A Year to Forget (The Accidental Time Travellers Book 2) (3 page)

“What do you want me to do?”

“It is not I that want you to do anything Mr Oswald.  Your country needs you to go on television and make a statement saying that J. Edgar Hoover and Bobby Stinson were behind the plot to kill JFK.  You will also state that the current President is aware of that fact.  It would also be excellent if you mention that Apollo 8 was blown up by the Soviet Union.”

“Why?”

“Well Mr Oswald, it will save your life.  Your children need a father.”

“But what is it you want?”

“I desire nothing.  I am just a little anxious Mr Oswald.  There is a war coming and it is imperative that the men walking the corridors of power will do everything they can to win it.”

Oswald had no idea what the man was talking about.  But what choice did he have?  He didn’t want to turn on the two men that had saved his life, but if he didn’t he would die anyway.

“If I say what you want, you’ll let me go?”

The man laughed.  “You have my word Mr Oswald.”

Chapter 4

The atmosphere in the Oval Office was tense.  President Kennedy had thus far not set a foot wrong during his Presidency.  The public trusted him to do what was right for the country and thus far he had done exactly that.  Bobby Stinson had been asked to sit in on the meeting by the President.  This only ever happened if the President was worried.  He seemed to think that Bobby was a good sounding board. 

The President was sat behind the desk.  To the left of Bobby, sat Abaddon and to his left sat the two men that knew more about technology than the rest of the world put together, Howard Hughes and Wernher Von Braun. 

Howard Hughes was without a doubt the most intelligent man that Bobby had ever met, he was also the richest.  He had made his fortune primarily through aviation, he had also directed films.  It was the first time Bobby had seen Howard looking so dishevelled, he had heard rumour of Howard’s OCD and various episodes in which he did not put on clothes or bathe himself.  He was dressed immaculately in a grey suit and a white shirt, but his hair looked long and unkempt, it was wiry and grey, as was his beard.  His nails were similar to a dogs claws and they seemed to stretch almost as far as his fingers did.  Howard did not seem to be particularly with it, his attention seemed to focus on certain objects for minutes at a time.  Howard was certainly a man of extremes, on a good day he was excellent, he was a man with drive, passion and an incredible intellect.  On a bad day he struggled to function, unfortunately for Howard, the times that they lived in were not quite as enlightened as the time that Bobby had been born in.  People still didn’t really understand how debilitating mental illness can be, in essence it is like any other illness, although no one can see what is going on inside another person’s head, which in some ways makes it a more difficult.  On the other hand Howard was so rich, that he had employees that were specifically hired in order to carry out tasks that helped his OCD. 

Wernher was a German that had moved to America at the end of World War Two.  Bobby did not particularly like him, he wasn’t sure if it was down to the latest member of his department, Will Carter.  Will had survived the hell that was Auschwitz and the stories he told had certainly affected Bobby’s opinion of Germans.  He knew that not all Germans were Nazis, but he could not understand how a country could have elected Adolf Hitler, he had outlined what he wanted to do in Mein Kampf, which had been released in the twenties.  Yet apparently the German people did not know what was going on with the expulsion of the Jews.  Previously he had always believed that the Nazis were as much of an enemy to Germany as they were the rest of the world.  But since meeting Will he had changed his opinion.  The stories Will had told about Auschwitz had been hard to believe initially, Bobby had no idea how humans could treat other humans the way that the Nazis had.  Every time he heard Wernher speak he wanted to get up and punch him in the face.  He had fortunately not been forced to spend much time in his company.  Bobby found himself resenting the man, he had been informed by the President that Wernher was never a member of the Nazi party, but Hoover had told him the exact opposite.  Although Bobby had never managed to completely understand Hoover’s motives for anything he did, he believed him.  Hoover was almost a friend to Bobby now, if it wasn’t for him Bobby would probably be dead.  But that certainly didn’t mean he trusted him.  Bobby realised that he hadn’t been paying any attention to what was being said and decided to focus.

“So what you’re telling me is that nothing went wrong with the rocket?”  Kennedy asked.

“Correct.  Everything was working perfectly well, we have no reason to believe something went wrong on Apollo 8.” Wernher replied.

“Then why did it explode?  What do I tell the people?”  Kennedy asked.

“I do not know.  It was certainly not a fault with the ship.  It could only have been something we did not account for in the atmosphere, or a deliberate act of sabotage.  I do not believe it was the atmosphere, the ship had already orbited the Moon a number of times without issue.”

“So you’re saying someone blew up the rocket?”  Kennedy asked.

“It is the only logical explanation.”

“Well only NASA had access to it.  So who did it?”  Kennedy asked, raising his voice slightly.

“Mr President, I must interject, there is no way that this was done by someone within NASA.”  Abaddon stated.

“Well who then?”

“It must have been the Soviets.”

“How could they destroy Apollo 8?”

“We don’t know how far along they are sir, not with any degree of certainty, perhaps they had a ship nearby.”

Kennedy looked shell shocked.  “Is that what you think Wernher?”

Bobby watched as Werner shifted uncomfortably, he noticed Abaddon nodding at Wernher.  “I think it is a possibility.” 

“What about you Howard?”  Kennedy asked.

“You have dirt on your table.”

“Sorry?”

“There is dirt on your table.”  Howard repeated.  He then pulled a tissue from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and began to wipe the desk.  “Do you have a dustbin?”

“I’ll take that.”  Abaddon interjected with a smile.

“Where is the nearest bathroom?  I need to wash my hands.”

“I’ll take you.”  Abaddon again replied.  The two men left the Oval Office and left the two Bobby’s and Werner alone.

“So what do I tell the public Wernher?”

“I’m sorry Mr President, but I do not know.  There was no fault with the ship.”

“Bobby?”  Kennedy asked.

“Well you don’t want to cause panic.  Perhaps just say that you are looking into what happened.”

“But what do we do about it?”

“This isn’t really my area of expertise.”  Bobby replied.

“Well if this was an attack on the ship, then I’m afraid it is your area Bobby.”

“So what do you want me to do sir?”

“Well I want you to do your job.”  Kennedy replied bluntly.

“I know nothing about rockets.”

“Well Wernher and Howard do.  If they say this was an attack on the US, then you need to find out who was behind it.”

Bobby sighed, if the two people who knew the most about the space race didn’t know, then what chance did he have?

Howard and Abaddon entered the room, once they had taken their seats Kennedy spoke again.

“Howard what is your take on this?”

“Well I don’t know what to tell you.  The Apollo rockets aren’t designed by Hughes Aerospace, we design the Surveyor rockets.  None of our ships have ever had technical difficulties.”

“Well perhaps you should be designing the Apollo rockets.”  Kennedy replied, almost shouting.

“We could certainly do that.”  Hughes said with a smile.

“I don’t want any more accidents.”

“I think Hughes Aerospace is the right choice Mr President.”  Abaddon interjected.

“Well, alright then.”  Hughes replied in his Texan accident.

“Good.  I need to call a press conference.  Bobby I want you to go with Wernher and Abaddon to look into this further.  If this was a Russian attack we need to know.”

Chapter 5

David was sitting at the dining table alone.  How he wished he could sleep, just to escape his thoughts for a little while.  It had been eight years since he had last slept, with the exception of a few minutes when he had been knocked unconscious after the assassination of JFK.  He lit a cigarette and took a long pull.

He replayed the shooting again in his mind’s eye.  He felt like he couldn’t go on like this anymore, but he had to stay alive to save Sharon.  She needed him, if he could last until then he might be reunited with her.  But what would Sharon see in him?  His personality felt nonexistent and by the time he would meet her, he would be an old man.  He took another pull on the cigarette and could feel his hand shaking as he did so. 

He needed to confess to the murder, surely that would be the best way to relieve his guilt, but what would happen to him?  He could get the death penalty, what good would he be to Sharon then?  He had come close to telling Bobby what had happened on a number of occasions, but he had never managed to utter the words.  He knew it had been an accident but that wouldn’t bring the dead man back.  He knew he had been trying to do the right thing but that wouldn’t bring the dead man back either.  If only he had told the truth in the immediate aftermath, he would have been able to explain exactly what had happened, he would probably have received a Presidential Pardon like Bobby had.  But it was too late for that now, you can’t murder someone and stay quiet for five years before admitting to the crime.

He took another long pull on his cigarette and began to wonder whether Sharon really needed him.  The others would be able to stop her death without him, they knew as much about it as he did.  He considered this for a moment.  He could end his suffering and Sharon could still survive.  Bobby would make sure of that, he could count on Bobby to save her.  But how would he end it all, what would be the most effective way.  He didn’t want to end up being saved and having to explain himself to a Psychiatrist.  He rose to his feet and wandered over to the kitchen sink, he smiled for what felt like the first time in five years, the carving knife was lying on the draining board.  He picked it up and went back over to the table, retaking his seat.

He looked down at the knife in his hands and pressed his finger against the point, it pierced his skin.  It was perfect.  David felt the happiest he had been in years, he would be away from the guilt at last.  He used the knife with his left hand and pushed it hard into his right wrist, before pulling it up his forearm.  He watched as the blood began to ooze from the wound, he had expected it to be painful, but it wasn’t, he just felt numb.  As the blood continued to ooze from the wound, David closed his eyes for what he hoped would be the last time.

Chapter 6

Faraday was awoken by the piercing ring of the telephone, it was on Jane’s side of the bed so he left her to answer it.

“Hello.”  She managed sleepily as she picked up the phone.

“I’ve found him.”  Will Carter said eagerly.

“Will?  Do you know what time it is?”

“Yes sorry to call so late but I’ve found him, we need to get moving.”

“Who?”

“Josef Mengele.”  Will replied.

Jane breathed in stunned.  Josef Mengele was one of the Nazi war criminals that they had been trying to track down for months.  He was one of the most evil human beings on the face of the earth.  He had worked at Auschwitz and had been carrying out experiments on the prisoners there.  Will had never had a direct encounter with him but he knew many people that had not been quite so fortunate.

“Where is he?”

“He has just flown in on a private plane, from Cuba to New York.”

“He’s in New York!”

“We need to move fast, should I come over?”

“Yes, we’ll just get ready and we can go.”

“I’m on my way.”  Will said, before the line went dead.

“Faraday we’ve got him.”

“Who?”

“Mengele.”

Faraday smiled, he had been looking forward to catching that bastard.  They both leapt out of bed and hurriedly dressed.  They walked down the stairs and through to the dining room, where they both saw David with blood oozing from his wrist.