The Animal Inside-Amaya Jiwe

Moonshot...

Manhattan, 1965...

"I don't see him." Nate commented, looking around frantically for his grandfather.

"That is odd." Rip admitted, looking as frantically as Nate was. "I dropped him off right here a minute ago. Where could he have gone? Henry!" Rip followed after a man wearing a charcoal gray coat. He turned around, revealing that he was not Henry Heywood. "Oh, I'm sorry, my mistake."

"Where is he?"

"We used to call Henry 'the Chameleon.'" Amaya informed the men. "He speaks seven languages like a local and he's a master in the art of camouflage and concealment. If you told him to disappear, that's exactly what he did."

"Don't worry, if it's hard for us to find your grandfather, it's hard for the legion." Sara said, trying to comfort Nate.

XXX

"1965 was a bust." Sara announced to Ray as we all, excluding Rip, walked back onto the bridge, defeated.

Ray looked at his best friend. "Oh, sorry, buddy."

"It's all right. Rip said he dropped my grandfather off in 1965 New York and told him to assume a new identity.

"Well, he'd need to find work." Jax pointed out.

"Why?" Mick asked him, clearly not caring.

"Henry was a military man." Amaya recalled. "He wouldn't have become an accountant. He would have wanted a job that still offers adventure, and yet was still somehow patriotic."

"FBI, CIA?" Ray looked at Amaya for answers.
"He was a fighter pilot before he was recruited for the JSA."

"In the '60's, the fledgling National Aeronautics and Space Admission used to call upon test pilots to apply to be astronauts." My father informed us.

"Exactly, what could be more patriotic, more adventurous than exploring space?" Ray asked rhetorically, agreeing with my father.

"Nice, Gideon. Pull up anything you can. Press clippings, newspaper articles, re: NASA circa 1965." Sara instructed the AI.

"Certainly, Captain."

"Okay, okay, okay. Come on, come on." Nate muttered, quickly going through the results of the search. Something caught his eye. "Wait, wait, stop, stop. Right there." He enlarged a photo. "I'd recognize that Heywood jawline anywhere."

"April 13th, 1970." Ray read off the scans. "'Mission Control works to save Apollo 13.' Come on, could your grandfather get any cooler?"

Just then, Rip wandered onto the bridge, clueless of what we had just found. "I think I may have found a way to track Commander Heywood."

"No need, Rip." I looked at the man, almost sympathetically. "We already found him."

"You did?" He asked, clearly shocked.

"We're headed to Houston, 1970." Jax added.

"Elvis at the Astrodome." Mick held up his beer.

"And then we're going to rescue my grandfather."

"Then Elvis." Mick added immediately after.

"We still need to figure out a way of contacting Commander Heywood without arousing suspicion." Rip reminded us. It definitely seemed like he was trying to take charge of the situation, step in as captain. "To that end, I suggest that we-" Sara cut him off.

"It's simple. We infiltrate NASA." We all nodded in agreement, leaving Rip with a shaken look across his face.

XXX