Paul Gillebaard - USSR Hoax

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.