USSR Hoax

13 THE CAPER

Even though no music played over the car radio, Tom tapped his fingers nervously on the steering wheel during his early morning drive to the Manned Spacecraft Center. Later that afternoon he would be attempting to pull off one of the greatest heists in America’s history, stealing some of the most sought-after treasures in the world. He barely slept through the night, tossing and turning as he replayed the plan in his head, trying to prepare for the unexpected. If he should be caught, this could be his last time driving to work as a NASA astronaut. He did his best to push that thought from his mind.

Spotting the sign of the local strip mall was like a slap in the face, reminding Tom he was supposed to pick up David at the tire shop and give him a ride to work. Darn it, I almost forgot! He looked down at the clock on the dash and was relieved to see it was only 7:20. Whew, it’s still early. David had requested 7:30 a.m. Tom quickly shoved the clutch peddle hard to the floor as he downshifted the ’69 Corvette. Tires screeched as he slowed the mighty car down before turning into the parking lot.

As Tom drove up to the tire shop he was puzzled to see Dusty sitting in his white ‘67 Plymouth as it idled out front. David was on the other side of the sedan putting something in the backseat. As Tom pulled up, David looked over in his direction with a surprised look. I know David asked me to pick him up. Tom wondered if his friend still needed a ride. If he did, he expected David to haul out whatever he had just put in the car. But instead, his neighbor closed the door and hit the roof, signaling Dusty to move on.

As Dusty drove away Tom pulled up next to David. His buddy eagerly opened the door and jumped in. “Hey, Tom.”

“So what was all that about?”

David raised both eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

“Why was Dusty here?”

David seemed flustered. “Oh, he saw me waiting and asked if I needed a ride. I told him you were picking me up.” He quickly changed the subject. Looking at Tom’s flight suit, he asked, “Are you flying today?”

“Yeah, Dick scheduled me for some training.”

“What for?”

“Don’t know, but it’s fine with me. It gets me out of the office for awhile.”

David asked anxiously, “Can you still get me back here after work?”

“Sure. I’ll be returning to the office later in the afternoon to escort a senator around.”

“Good, because you’re my excuse for leaving early. I promised Joan I’d finally attend one of Ashley’s piano recitals. Besides, the tire shop closes at 5:30.”

Though the timing was perfect for Tom to get out of the office soon after snagging the lunar sample, he still wondered why his friend was so adamant about the ride. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

Both men rode out the remainder of the drive in silence. As Tom pulled into the MSC parking lot, David spoke up. “I decided to cool it on messing around on Joan. You were right. I would hate to lose what I have.”

Tom was happy to hear his friend was going to change his ways, but it wouldn’t be easy. He knew of other astronauts who tried to stop cheating only to eventually fall back into their old ways. It seemed once that line had been crossed, it was that much tougher to resist the ever-present temptation of overly-friendly women. Tom thought back to Connie, glad he had resisted that temptation. He vowed he would never put himself in any future compromising situation, and he hoped his friend could sustain his resolve. “I think that’s a good call.”

THE MUGGY AUGUST weather was sucking the air out of Tom as he and Senator Olson approached the MSC-issued sedan. The late-afternoon sun that reflected off the car’s bright white exterior slashed at Tom’s eyes, making it difficult to make out the NASA emblems plastered on the front doors. Tom decided it was best to drive to the LRL building instead of walking the half mile trek in the draining sun. Entering the car was like stepping into an open blast furnace. As gobs of sweat developed in his flight suit, Tom looked desperately for relief and immediately rolled down his window. Unfortunately, the weak air conditioner wasn’t going to provide any immediate respite over the short jaunt. Instead of dealing with the blistering hot air that would initially be spitting out of the vents, Tom elected not to even bother turning on the AC.

After he started the car, Tom observed perspiration dripping down the senator’s forehead from his swept-back, greasy black hair down past his thick, black-rimmed eyeglasses. Tom felt he needed to apologize for the Texas attack. “Sorry that this car feels like a wet sauna. I figured walking would be even worse.”

The man removed his glasses and casually took a handkerchief from the pocket of his tailored suit. He wiped his face thoroughly. Without looking towards Tom, the senator said dismissively as if he was talking to some lower class functionary, “This is the weather I expected. I’ll be fine.”

Tom had done his best to give an entertaining tour of the grounds, but his heart hadn’t been in it. His mind had been racing over what he was about to do in Building 37, their next stop. An edge of anxiety crept into his voice as he informed the senator, “Our final stop is the Lunar Receiving Laboratory where the Apollo 11 astronauts were quarantined and all the lunar rocks are stored. You are about to be one of only a handful of people to actually see moon rocks up close.” And I can’t believe I’m about to steal some.

The senator was direct and harsh as his condescending voice cut through the musty air. “I’m very familiar with the building, and I don’t care about seeing rocks. What I do care about is seeing how your agency is protecting the world from the possible threat of a deadly organism being brought back from the moon. I expect to get a firsthand look at how those rocks are being handled, as well as ensuring their safeguard.”

Tom was done trying to be nice to the annoying and pompous senator. Besides, he had more pressing issues on his mind. Knowing the senator was going to be scrutinizing every aspect of the lunar material’s security meant the person not in on the plan would be keeping a close eye on the overall operation of the building, including the group being escorted. Since the senator wasn’t star-struck by the veteran spacewalker, Tom wouldn’t be cut any slack if caught. In fact, the senator would probably consider the foiled crime as another notch on his belt of protecting America’s interests.

After the short, quiet drive to the unassuming, university-like concrete building, Tom threw the car into park and sat staring at the front door. He cringed at the thought of possibly walking out of the structure in handcuffs, his career over. Everything he had worked so hard for over the last five years was riding on what would happen during the next thirty minutes, and it scared the hell out of him. What are you doing, Tom? You’re not some secret agent man. He drew in a calming breath and bowed his head. He then forcibly hit the steering wheel with his balled-up fist. You can do this, Tom.

“Is this the building?”

Breaking out of his trance, Tom wondered how long they had been sitting in the idling car. He turned off the motor. He noticed it was four o’clock. “It is. Let’s get on inside where there’s air conditioning.”

Neither man bothered rolling up his window. The unbearable heat appeared to be taking its toll on the senator, who got out of the car lethargically, gradually working his way to the main entrance. A gush of welcoming, cool air greeted them when Tom opened the glass door. He stepped aside, allowing the senator to enter the freshly painted lobby first. Tom followed and directed them toward the receptionist. Their steps echoing off the linoleum floor got the attention of three men huddled together in white lab coats. The men looked over. Right away Tom recognized the weathered face of Gerald White, who oversaw the operation and security of the building.

Gerald’s eyes widened. He instantly parted from the other men and marched directly toward Tom and the senator.

Tom halted in his tracks, surprised the head of the building’s security was there. Is Gerald one of our escorts?

“Hey, Tom.” Gerald looked toward the senator as he extended his hand and said in his gruff voice, “You must be Senator Olson. Welcome to the LRL building. I’m the Chief Operations Manager, Gerald White.”

As the senator shook Gerald’s hand and introduced himself, Tom eyed with trepidation the other two men walking over. There was only supposed to be two men showing them around, not three. I sure hope one of these guys is just visiting with the others.

The white haired man with wiry glasses extended his hand toward Tom. “Hello, Tom, I am Dr. Lloyd Brooks, the Director of Medical Research and Operations.”

Tom grasped the hand. Lloyd was the MSC administrator in charge of the containment program. As Lloyd moved aside to introduce himself to the senator, the third man with a full face stepped up. Tom shook his hand.

“Hi, Tom, I’m Walter Coleman. I’m on the Biological Advisory Committee. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The BAC was responsible for making sure the containment program was adequately designed. “Nice to meet you, too.” Tom shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to the other. “Are all three of you escorting us through the building?”

Dr. Brooks answered as Walter turned to shake the senator’s hand. “We are. We wanted to ensure the senator’s questions were answered by the right people and that he was given a top-notch tour.”

Tom’s stomach muscles tightened as he cracked a half smile. “Oh, great.” What was he going to do now, especially considering all three men were upper management?

From the introductions, Tom was unable to tell who was in on the plan, and whoever it was must have known Tom was confused by the number of them. He had to determine who his co-conspirator was and verify if he should still proceed with the theft.

After signing in and being provided lab coats and badges, Tom and the senator were given a detailed walkthrough of the crew quarters and operations area. Tom was too focused on trying to pick out his collaborator to hear anything being said. With his hands deep in his lab coat pockets, he fidgeted with the loose threads inside as he walked behind the group, studying the body language of each NASA man. After twenty minutes, Tom still had no idea who his accomplice was. His gut told him it was Gerald, but that was purely a guess. Since the manager had been leading the tour, Tom had been unable to get any kind of a signal from the man. With their final stop coming up, Tom was starting to get cold feet.

Once they had put on clean room gloves and caps, they climbed the last stairwell to the vault. Tom felt a sudden chill as they entered the short, empty hallway that dead-ended at the entrance to the sample area. Tom froze for a second as he stared down the well-lit corridor at the gleaming door that led into the inner sanctum of the building, the home of the moon rocks. It was coming down to the moment of truth. He took in a tense, sharp breath before catching up with the men, whose voices bounced off the walls, mixing with the sounds of their footsteps.

When they reached the door, Gerald turned around, rubbing his hands together. “Gentlemen, you are about to see something amazing and special—moon rocks brought back by Apollo 11. Please check that your caps and gloves are on properly.”

Tensely, Tom adjusted his cap as he tried to figure out what he should do. The senator suddenly piped up with a question about the containment procedures. Both Lloyd and Walter moved toward the senator to address the query. This was Tom’s chance to get a private moment with Gerald. Tom shuffled over and looked both ways before leaning in close. Without saying a word, he wiggled his eyebrows up and down before flashing a thumbs-up sign.

Gerald tilted his head slightly before nodding with a grin. He put a firm hand on Tom’s shoulder and whispered, “You’re right, all is going to plan.” The manager pulled away with a quick wink.

Tom let out a sigh of relief, having found his accomplice. He took the comment as a statement that everything was still a go. He was about to quietly confirm his assumption and ask if he should go through with the heist when, surprisingly, Gerald followed up his comment with, “The senator does look happy.”

Tom jerked his head back. What? Did Gerald think my signal was about the tour and what the senator thought? Tom was back to square one. Damn! He forced a smile as he disappointedly stepped back and double-checked that his gloves were secure. Once everyone was ready, Gerald typed in the code on the door keypad. Hearing the loud opening sound of the latch echoing down the empty hallway caused Tom to shudder. He still had no idea what he was going to do. He stepped aside to let the others enter, looking each in the eye in his last-ditch effort to establish who was in on the plan. After they all passed, he shook his head in disappointment. He had no clue. As he followed dejectedly, he figured if any workers were in the lab, the caper was off. If not, then he would make his decision when the senator was escorted out for the phone call.

Tom passed through a small work area before entering the lab, getting his first look at the gleaming, round-the-clock, sterile room. His heart skipped a beat when he saw no scientists inside. He maintained his composure as he scanned the area filled with white surfaces, cold metal, glass panels and the unearthly presence of nitrogen tanks. As nonchalantly as he could, he searched for the black safe.

Dr. Brooks, in front of Tom, pointed proudly to one of the clear glove boxes filled with protective nitrogen that had a moon rock sitting inside. “This laboratory conducted the preliminary testing of the Apollo 11 rocks, verifying they were free of any contamination. We of course will be doing more detailed testing and research later in the operations room. I should point out that this facility had to go through a rugged three-month trial period before it was certified by the ICBC. I’m pleased to say we passed that rigorous inspection with flying colors.”

The doctor was embellishing a bit. Casually, Tom looked along the perimeter of the room trying to spot the safe.

The senator stared at the glove box and said, with a sense of authority, “What if a deadly organism is brought back from one of the other missions?”

Dr. Brooks answered calmly, “We’re positive that won’t happen, especially after the astronauts and lunar material from the Apollo 11 mission were tested and cleared. However, we will still take the same precautionary measures on all future missions until otherwise advised.”

The senator persisted, wanting an answer to his question. “What if something deadly is found on a later mission?”

The doctor folded his arms as he shot the senator a frustrated look. Bluntly, he said, “In the worst case scenario, this building would be buried under dirt, sacrificing all the lives inside.”

Hearing that harsh reality from the director caused Tom to stop for a moment. Wow, kill the returning astronauts. Though Tom was convinced no such deadly organism existed, being exterminated to avoid spreading contagion from outer space was still a scary thought. He shook his head as he resumed his search. He peered around the side of the last glove box. He swallowed hard when he saw the black safe sitting on the floor in a well-lit corner of the room. It was about the size of a small refrigerator. It seemed to be summoning him. There you are, you little rascal. While the men continued talking, Tom studied the surrounding area, trying to figure out the best way to carry out the heist. He discreetly undid a few buttons on his lab coat, allowing easy access to one of the large pockets of his flight suit.

Tom snapped to attention hearing a crackling voice blare out of the intercom speakers above. “Dr. Brooks, there is an urgent call for Senator Olson. He can take it in room 33.”

The cue gave Tom goose bumps. He looked over to see who was going to escort the senator out, eliminating him as his accomplice.

Surprisingly, Gerald spoke up. “Senator, follow me. I’ll take you over to where the phone is.”

The senator looked peeved. As he turned to follow Gerald, he said, “Damn it. Sorry about this, gentlemen.”

As the men left, Tom looked over to the doctor and Walter, both standing in awkward silence, staring right back at Tom. He did his best to flash a relaxed smile even though his heart was practically pounding out of his chest. With the clock started, his ride to the moon hung in the balance. He needed to make a move, but he couldn’t with two men in the room.

Finally, Dr. Brooks broke the stillness as he rubbed his gloved finger along one of the white counter tops. “Walter, are there any sterile gloves in here?”

Walter pointed toward the entrance. “I think there are some in the other room.”

Tom darted his gaze nervously back and forth between the two men, trying to figure out who was working with him.

Without saying another word, Dr. Brooks turned and exited.

Was Walter his man? He was the last one Tom would have suspected. With the senator returning soon, Tom had to know. He wiggled his eyebrows in Walter’s direction hoping for some kind of a signal. The man looked amused as he simply smiled before wheeling around on the heels of his shoes, positioning his back toward Tom.

Wow, he turned around. Maybe he is in on the plan. Tom shifted nervously on the balls of his feet. It was now or never if he wanted to walk on the moon. I’m doing this. As he turned toward the safe, Dr. Brooks called out from the other room.

“Walter, can you come in here a second?”

Tom abruptly halted. Is it Dr. Brooks? He was now totally confused.

Walter answered, “Sure.” He left the room, never looking back.

It didn’t matter who was in on the plan, the room was empty and this was Tom’s only shot. He leaped to the floor in front of the safe and clutched the handle, yanking down hard. The damn thing didn’t budge.

Shit! Not this. If the safe didn’t open, his moon mission was lost.

Tom held his breath as he rotated the lever in the other direction. A deep sigh of relief escaped him when the handle easily turned, unlocking the safe. He hurriedly opened the metal door, frantically searching through the various shelves for the small, silver metal cylinder. Within seconds he located the one labeled RD and snatched it. The senator’s voice in the other room indicated the men would soon be returning. He hastily pushed the heavy door closed and sprang back to his feet. He took a few steps away, turning his back toward the entrance. He bent over, and ripped open the Velcro flap of a large pocket on his left leg and quickly slipped in the canister before sealing the pouch. As he straightened up, he heard footsteps entering. Not having enough time to button his coat, he instead coolly slipped his hands into the pockets and moved his hands together, covering up the unbuttoned portion of the coat. He turned casually as Dr. Brooks led the group back into the room.

The doctor said excitedly, “Senator, let me show you where we store the rocks.”

Tom smiled in their direction, realizing they were coming over to inspect the safe. When he looked over to the black box, he went into a sudden state of shock seeing the small door was slightly ajar.

Damn it! I didn’t close it all the way!

The open safe was a security breech. The standard procedure for such an incident was to put the whole building into lockdown mode, requiring everyone, no matter who they were, to be physically searched. Somehow he had to close that door before it was noticed, or he was doomed—but how?

He looked back over to see the men less than eight feet away trucking right at him. He fought the impulse to panic as his mind began spinning, trying to figure out what to do. Suddenly it hit him. As Dr. Brooks approached, Tom shuffled his feet backward to get out of their way then purposely tripped over his own feet, appearing to fall awkwardly backward toward the safe. He intentionally extended his arm behind him to make it look like he was trying to soften the blow. But instead, as his body hit the ground hard, his arm slammed onto the vault door, closing it shut tight. He brushed the handle with his arm as he fell past, re-latching it.

Dr. Brooks and Gerald rushed around the corner to help Tom up. “Are you okay?”

Though Tom felt a little dazed, he couldn’t have been happier. “I’m fine, just a little embarrassed, I guess.”

As Gerald helped Tom up, he overheard the senator saying in a patronizing voice. “That’s one of our astronauts?”

Tom just smiled.

TOM LET OUT a deep sigh as he reached his desk, relieved to have the lunar sample safely in his pocket and to be free of the senator. He looked at his watch. It was 5:10. Taking David to the tire shop was the perfect excuse to leave the office and put the stolen container securely in his home safe. He figured he would return later to meet with Dick and inform his boss of the successful heist.

Tom’s best shot at sneaking the metal canister off the grounds was putting it in his briefcase, but he first had to get it in there without being seen. He scanned the other desks to check if anyone was looking in his direction. Satisfied the coast was clear, he set his briefcase on his desk and lifted the lid. He then opened his desk drawer and grabbed some paperwork to help cover up the container when he removed it from his pocket. He took a final look around before bending down and pulling open his pants pocket flap. He slowly pulled out the canister, ensuring it stayed hidden behind the paper. As he slowly rose, he was startled by David’s voice from behind.

“What’s ya doing, Tom?”

Without thinking, Tom set the container in his desk drawer with the paperwork on top and quickly closed the drawer. He spun around with a determined look. “Getting ready to go. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten I’ve got to get you to the tire shop.”

David appeared irritated. “Where have you been?”

Tom didn’t blink as he looked David squarely in the eyes. “I told you this morning, I had to show a senator around. But I’ll be ready to leave in a second.”

“Stu has a quick question for you about his spacewalk. Do you have a moment?”

Stu Bailey was the CMP on the same backup crew as David. Since their crew was probably rotating into an “I” mission, Stu would be required to do a deep space EVA to retrieve the scientific cameras on the outside of their spacecraft. Since Tom was one of the few astronauts to have done a spacewalk, Stu probably felt Tom could answer his question. Frustrated, Tom had to close his briefcase without the canister in it. He took a quick glance down at his desk drawer ensuring it was shut tight. “Sure.” He would try transferring the canister again when he finished with Stu. Tom followed David down the hallway.

When Tom returned to his desk ten minutes later, he was anxious to get the container into his briefcase and get the stolen property off NASA grounds. David had walked over to his own desk to retrieve his belongings so the two could leave together. Tom whisked through the exercise again. He opened his briefcase and took a quick glimpse around to verify it was safe to transfer the container. Certain no one was looking, he opened his drawer.

Tom’s heart stopped as he froze in shock. No lump lay under the paperwork.

Frantically he lifted the paper, which only substantiated his fears. The canister was gone. What! Where the hell is it?