Space Madness – Chapter 10
Former astronaut Nancy Line returns from exile after a public nervous breakdown to assist NASA in faking a moon landing.
Chapter Ten – I Thought About You
“What were you thinking? Were you thinking?”
NASA director Josef Morrow is pacing up and down the North Hollywood sound-stage as astronauts Tony Graziani & Nancy Line are fitting into their spacesuits.
Nancy looks up at Josef as she fastens her boots, “We didn’t think anyone would see us. We wore disguises.”
“You wore a hat.”
“Well, I don’t normally wear hats. Ergo, disguised.”
Josef sees Tony’s lips moving and removes the astronaut’s helmet. “–and it’s been all but dismissed by the mainstream media. It’s a blurry photo in a mall on TMZ and a few conspiracy theory sites. No one’s taking it seriously.”
“Well, I am. No more leaving this stage until the mission’s over. I’m not the enemy here. I’m trying to protect you.”
Nancy tucks her helmet under her arm, “Protect us from what?”
French movie director Arrendise Marche claps his hands over near the lunar surface set, “Allons y! Allons y! Si vou plait.”
Josef shakes his head, “It’s nothing.”
Nancy pushes, “Protect us from what, Josef?”
Josef begins to open his mouth, when he’s interrupted by Tony. “Ahh, it’s such a relief we can go to the bathroom without having to take off our spacesuits.”
Nancy squints at her partner’s ever-moistening suit, “We…can’t.”
Across the street from the sound-stage, LAPD Detectives Ricky Faulk & Harry Schette are staked out in Ricky’s Audi Cabriolet again.
Harry, reading his laptop. “TMZ says those drug dealers we were following yesterday were the astronauts.”
Ricky, staring out the window, “Can’t be. Those astronauts are in space. TMZ’s always wrong. But there was something fishy about them. There’s something fishy about this whole case.”
“Fish thieves, maybe?” Harry puts forth, trying to be helpful.
“I think we’re only left with one option, partner.”
“What’s that, Rick?”
“We gotta infiltrate that drug warehouse.”
“Oh, cool! We can pretend to be spies!”
“How ’bout we pretend to be cops.”
“That could be fun, too.”
On a military base in Northern Virginia, White House Chief of Staff Jeremy Wolfe and First Lady Mabel Wayne are watching soldiers in black jumpsuits, armed to the teeth, load onto a dual-rotor helicopter.
“I still don’t see why we have to eliminate everybody,” the First Lady frets.
“Morrow has gone off the reservation. Any one of them could squeal after this is all over. We do the moonwalk tomorrow, wipe them out and the next day President Wayne breaks the news to his adoring public that those brave astronauts died upon reentry and their stoic NASA director took his own life, unable to deal with the pain.”
“What about the movie director.”
“I dunno, drug overdose. Yup, Mabel. The only good conspirator is a dead conspirator.”
“Heh, you’re not gonna knock me off next, are you?”
Jeremy smiles and stares straight ahead, “Of course not, Madame First Lady.”
Mabel Wayne glances nervously at her husband’s Chief of Staff.
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