The grainy, black and white picture on the TV flashed in and out and Peter was having a hard time seeing anything clearly. However, since one of his favorite toys was a Lunar Lander model, he knew exactly what he was looking at. On the screen was a portion of the Lander, with nothing else going on.
Someone behind Peter called out. “Okay, everybody, it looks like Tom is getting ready to open the hatch. He should be coming out very soon.”
Everyone stared at the television closely. Peter was surprised how quiet the room was as he turned and looked back at his mom. She was fidgeting with her hands. She made eye contact with him and blew him a kiss. Peter turned back to the TV, excited and happy.
His dad’s foot slowly appeared on the TV screen to come down the ladder. Opa yelled excitedly, “There he is!”
Full of pride, Peter straightened up when he heard his dad’s voice come out of the TV. “Houston, I am on the ladder, heading down.”
“We copy that, Tom,” answered CAPCOM at Mission Control.
Peter looked over at the blue ribbon he won in swimming that hung off the mantle over the fireplace. He was feeling the same joy as he felt when he received the award. Beaming, he looked back at the TV rubbing his hands on his legs. For as long as he could recall, his dad talked about one day walking on the moon, and here he was reaching his dream.
“Houston, I am ready to step off the ladder.”
“Roger, Tom, good luck,” replied Mission Control.
Peter watched as his dad jumped off the ladder. He seemed to float in slow motion forever before finally touching down on the lunar surface. “Houston, you have one happy astronaut here. The ground is covered with a few inches of gray dust and all is okay.”
“Roger, Tom. Congratulations, and try not to get too dirty,” responded CAPCOM.
Everyone started hooting and hollering in celebration. Opa glanced at his watch and yelled out, “My son first stepped on the moon at 9:45 p.m., a time I will always remember.”
Peter’s mom walked directly through the celebration straight to him and bent down to gave him the biggest hug she could. To Peter the hug seemed to last forever. Finally as she released him slightly, he looked up to see she was crying, which confused him. “Mom, why are you crying? Daddy’s okay.”
Anne looked down into her son’s eyes and put her hand on his face, lightly stroking it. “Sweetie, I am just so happy for your daddy, you have no idea how hard he worked to get to this moment.”
FORTUNATELY, Peter was able to get a good six hour rest on the flight to D.C., and the hour long taxi ride to CIA headquarters allowed Peter a chance to wake up. It was always easier traveling west. He was still groggy as he went through a couple of security check points and walked down the corridor of the CIA building toward Gavin’s office. The long walk was starting to get his blood pumping. Peter glanced at his watch; 11:25 a.m. Having a few spare minutes, he hoped to get a cup of coffee to energize him.
As Peter came around the corner he was surprised to see Chris Riddick walking toward him. Peter wondered what that asshole was doing here. Peter never got a seat on the Shuttle because of Chris. As director of flight crew operations at NASA, Chris was Peter’s boss and had the authority to decide who flew and who didn’t. Peter was always considered one of the top astronauts by both his peers and management, but for years he saw fellow astronauts with lower scores, or credentials, fly before him. Though Chris could be overruled on any selection he made, it rarely happened. Peter could have had his dad contact Chris’s boss at the time, Stu Bailey, and probably have gotten a ride. Stu and Peter’s dad were in the same group when they joined NASA and subsequently trained together. However, Peter never wanted to get the nod because he was a moonwalker’s son.
He always suspected Chris had some sort of vendetta toward his dad and took it out on him. Chris was on the support crew of the U.S.-USSR joint mission, behind his dad who was on the backup crew. His dad later mentioned that Chris felt he should have been on the prime crew or worse case, the backup crew, and believed Tom had a hand in preventing him from getting a spot on either crew, which was never the case. According to his dad, there were more deserving astronauts who warranted those seats.
As the two approached each other in the hallway, Chris smiled and slowed up, apparently wanting to chat. “Hello, Peter. What are you doing here?”
Peter clinched both fists low by his hips and said nothing as he walked on past.
Behind him Chris said, “Well, same to you.”
Peter smiled as he continued walking, satisfied his brush-off bothered Chris.
He turned the last corner and saw Gavin’s assistant, Lola Peterson, at her desk. She was a 60-year-old grandmother who Peter always assumed was part of the hippy movement of the late sixties, the time of free love. In past conversations she often spoke of being sorry she missed out on going to Woodstock. She had a good body for a woman her age and always dressed a little sexy. Peter knew she loved being a grandmother, but hated thinking she was actually old enough to be one.
“Hello, beautiful,” Peter said with a smile as he approached her desk.
Lola looked up and immediately smiled as she straightened her dress. “Welcome back, handsome. Right on time as usual.”
“So how’s boss man today?” Peter leaned on her desk.
“He’s in a good mood, considering everything that has been going on. Can I get you anything before you go in?” She flashed a flirtatious grin.
“I can think of quite of few things you could do for me, but I think we might get in trouble,” he whispered with a wink. She blushed as Peter continued, “But if we insist on being a good boy and girl, then a cup of strong coffee would be nice. I’m trying to shake this jet lag.”
Looking up at him with a sly smirk, she responded, “Peter, you know I am always a good girl.”
She got up to get his coffee, walking over to the counter and pouring it with her back to him. He couldn’t help but check her out. Damn, not bad for a grandmother. She looked back, catching him staring. He just smiled.
She handed him his cup of coffee. “You better get on in there before we both get in trouble.”
Peter winked and gently took the hot cup from her hand making sure not to spill any, and kindly thanked her. He always practiced his manners.
Before stepping into Gavin’s office, he took a few sips. The caffeine gave him the quick jolt he needed. Gavin’s door was already open. Peter entered, giving a slight knock as he walked in.
Gavin was noticeably tense as he looked up from his desk. He immediately smiled and walked over to welcome Peter back. He shook Peter’s hand, closing the door behind him. “Welcome home, Peter, how was your flight?” The director motioned for him to have a seat in the leather chair at the front of his desk.
“It was fine,” Peter said.
Gavin walked back around his desk to sit. Gavin was a quiet guy, which some people took as arrogance. Peter assumed Gavin came across that way at first because he was sizing you up, but once he got to know you, he was actually a great guy. He was the kind of boss who if you put in a good effort and were honest with him, he would back you up 110 percent. Gavin was someone he could trust and be himself around. He was actually one of the reasons why Peter came to SID from NASA. Gavin was able to put him at ease about the new CIA division; convincing him it would be a great opportunity and probably catapult him into space sooner rather than later. The director had complete confidence in Peter’s astronaut skills and let him know it. In fact, he said Peter was by far the best candidate to be the first agent of the division.