Paul Gillebaard - USSR Hoax

She licked her lips provocatively. “Far out.”

Tom escorted the head-turner through the hotel, but once they reached the doorway of his room he started to question his decision. Connie had pressed her body up against him during their elevator ride, and he did nothing to stop her. As he fiddled with the key in the door lock, Connie again pressed up against him. After opening the door, she playfully ran her soft hand along his arm as she entered, keeping her eyes locked on his for the whole time. Tom cautiously followed close behind before turning to close the door. He was surprised to see Chris across the hallway poking his head and arm out of his room hanging a Do Not Disturb sign. Chris flashed a mischievous wink before closing his door.

Shoot! Not him.

The frustration of Chris seeing Tom with Connie was instantly washed away when he saw the blonde comfortably propped up against the pillows on the king-sized bed. Her dress had conveniently slipped high up her tan legs, the boots crossed at the ankles. Her arms were up with her fingers interlocked behind her head, causing her breasts to protrude. She purred, “So where’s that drink, honey?”

Tom held onto the doorknob, like a struggling swimmer clutching a life preserver. He had to make a decision. If he took another step into the room, there was no turning back. He either had to end the evening right then, or make a couple of drinks and enjoy an intimate encounter with this lovely creature. He took a long hard look at the enticing sight lying in front of him while debating the pros and cons in his head. This time no angels appeared to guide him. Finally, he shook his head. Damn it. I can’t.

Not moving, he said discouragingly, “Sweetheart, I hate to do this, but I have to call it a night. I’m so sorry to have dragged you up here, but to be honest, I was confused. Other than my wife, I have never been in the company of such a beautiful lady. Bottom line, I’m happily married with a wonderful family.”

Connie acted as if it was no big deal, swinging her legs over the side of the bed before letting them drop to the floor. She stood up, straightening her dress. “That’s groovy, honey. No hard feelings. And thanks for the far out compliment.” She crossed over to him and gave him a soft peck on the cheek. “You’re a gentleman. Your wife is lucky.”

As she left, sashaying down the hallway, Tom took one final look at his one-night-stand that could have been. And I’m one lucky-frustrated-husband.

Intensity was evident in the chiseled lines and creases of Dick’s face. Tom slowly took a seat across from his boss. He had no idea why he was called to the office, especially while the Apollo 10 mission was still going on. Before he could say hi, Dick rose abruptly and walked past him without saying a word.

Curious, Tom turned and saw Dick locking the door, something he rarely did. As his boss circled back to his desk Tom broke the silence. “So what’s up?”

Falling heavily down into his chair, Dick placed both elbows on his desk, clasping his hands tightly together. Small beads of sweat materialized on the director’s forehead.

Tom tapped his fingers nervously on the armrest.

Dick leaned forward, piercing Tom with a cold, calculating stare. Dick spoke in a soft, yet intense, tone, “What I’m about to tell you can never leave this room. This is serious top-secret shit.”

Tom pushed back in his seat, preparing himself for whatever might come. “Got it.”

“Apparently we made a secret deal with the Soviets. They supplied us with a part for the F-1 engine and in return we promised them lunar core samples from two missions to be passed on in secret.”

The words hit Tom like a blast of cold air, pushing him even deeper into his chair. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. We’re working with the Communists? With his mouth slightly agape, he shook his head. “Are you serious?”

Intently, never blinking, Dick answered, “Yes, I couldn’t believe it myself.”

Tom immediately thought of the markings he saw on the F-1 engine, convinced they were somehow relevant. He looked out the window, wondering why his boss was telling him this.

Dick’s voice stayed intense. “The Soviets insisted on getting material from the first mission. Apparently they’re having problems returning a Luna craft with samples from the moon. If we’re successful with Apollo 11, the material we pass on will be used by the Soviets to pull off a hoax involving a future Luna mission. They will allege that it landed safely on the lunar surface, successfully drilled out a core sample and returned it to earth.”

The Soviets had been trying to upstage the Americans with unmanned spacecraft over the last few years, even trying to be the first to return lunar samples to Earth. Now Americans were going to pass on some of their precious cargo so the Soviets could fool the world and claim a minor victory? “Why in the world would we promise them any of the lunar material we bring back?”

“Good question, and I wish I had an answer. All I know is we were having stability issues with the Saturn V during development and apparently the Soviets have the technology to solve the problem. Somehow a deal was made.”

Tom nodded his head, giving the impression he knew something.

Dick jumped in before Tom could speak. “I know what you’re thinking, and yes, I agree. What you saw at Michoud is probably somehow related. If I were you, I would forget about that. This is so top-secret, it can be dangerous to know too much. I’m not even sure who is aware of the agreement. I’m told it goes high up, but not to the top. If this information ever leaked out, it could ruin America’s credibility and probably end funding for the space program. With so much at stake, I feel the powers that be would go to great lengths to ensure the truth never got out.”

“So why are you telling me this?”

“You’ve always been my ace-in-the-hole. After I passed along the pictures you took at Michoud, I started to get wind of a covert operation linked to the Soviets and the need for one of our astronauts to be involved. With your experience and the fact that you already knew about the markings in the F-1 engine, I immediately considered you. That’s why I never assigned you to a mission. I wanted you available.” With an amused glint, Dick’s eyes widened. “How would you like to command Apollo 16?”

Tom was now baffled. Why was his boss offering him the commander’s seat on 16? “What are you talking about?”

“I only want one astronaut involved in this operation. He will steal an Apollo 11 lunar sample from the LRL vault and pass it on to the Russians. Since the deal includes material from Apollo 11 and a future mission, I need a veteran astronaut I can place in command of a future moon flight so he can embezzle a soil sample during one of his moonwalks.”

Tom sat up. “You’re kidding me. You want me to steal a lunar sample from the LRL vault and the moon?” The Lunar Receiving Laboratory was a top security-building that would house the lunar material in storage vaults as well as research laboratories and quarantine quarters. The world was concerned about a deadly organism possibly being brought back from the moon, and the LRL building was designed to safeguard against such a possibility. Stealing anything from that building would be like taking gold from Fort Knox.

Dick shook his head. “I know. It all sounds crazy. I don’t have the details yet on how it will all go down. I’ve heard there is someone in the know who works in the LRL building who will make it possible for you to snag a premeasured sample from the vault.”

“Won’t the material be noticed missing?”