Title: Saving Jackie KGenre: Historical Fiction/Thriller/Action
Author: L.D.C. Fitzgerald
Publisher: Ursa Minor Publishing
Purchase at AMAZON
The First Lady in Danger?
Jump into the past to save her!
Enter an upside-down world where Soviet henchmen botched their mission to eliminate John F. Kennedy fifty years ago, slaying his wife Jackie instead. The unthinkable crime incites Americans and triggers an unending war with
In present day, as the two superpowers teeter on the brink of mutual destruction, a team of outlaws discovers a way to jump through time. The wisecracking felons decide to take matters into their own hands by traveling back to 1963 to save Jackie K. To fix the future, they must right the wrongs of the past.
But, their mission may go awry . . .Book Excerpt:
Dee corralled the team around the diorama on the workbench. “First, some background for context. Let’s travel to the past to November 1963. President Kennedy has embarked on a tour of five cities, including Texas , San Antonio , Houston , Fort Worth , and Dallas . Tragically, he’ll never make it to his final destination. The tour’s objective is to garner support for his ’64 reelection campaign, which is already heating up. Although JFK won the Austin in 1960, his popularity as a Democrat in the South is waning. Thus, various speeches, appearances, and motorcades are planned in each location to give the incumbent maximum exposure to the population. No one could fathom the tragic outcome in Lone Star State .” Dallas
“Note that we show only half of the park. A mirror image exists to the south, with
“Now, let’s time travel to
“Wait.” Jay held up an index finger. “Your grandfather was in the motorcade, right?”
“Unfortunately, no. The detail primarily included city officers, and granddad’s beat was in the suburbs. He would have loved to be part of it, though. He had voted for Kennedy and admired him, at least up until then.”
“Okay, so a phalanx of
“What the hell were they thinking?” Bick thumped his fist on the table, causing the models to quiver. “It’s inconceivable that the president was out in the open like a sitting duck. Today’s agents would never permit it.”
“I know. It’s not like presidents hadn’t been targeted before.”
“Wait a cotton-pickin’ minute.” Quin emphasized his drawl. “How does some fancy southern belle wind up with the name Lady Bird?”
“Nickname, to be exact. She was born Claudia Alta Taylor, after her Uncle Claud. When she was a baby, her nursemaid proclaimed her ‘purty as a ladybird’ and it stuck. No one seems to remember her birth name. Doubly unlucky for Mrs. Johnson, a ladybird is more commonly called a ladybug.”
“Sheesh. An insect.”
“Official party bus?” Sera scoffed.
“Yes, believe it or not. I’m led to believe the designation was fairly accurate, too, with a lot of drinking and smoking going on.”
“Mr. Zapruder simply wanted to record a piece of history.” Jay scratched his head. “He had no idea his eight millimeter camera would capture the most sensational assassination of the century. We’re fortunate
“Now, the KGB. There are three operatives: Ivan Grekovich, Dmitriy Sokolov, and Viktor Vladimirsky. They used American aliases for documents, of course, but we will use their proper Russian names for simplicity. I’ll provide you with their photos and dossiers later. Ivan is prowling in front of the Pergola to the right of Zapruder. Dmitriy and Viktor are skulking on the other side of
Frank hefted up the Dmitriy figure in his palm. “You mean they were standing out in the open in the middle of all those people? I thought KGB spies were supposed to be the best-trained covert assassins in the world. But these guys don’t sound too bright to me.”
“Frank, you make an excellent point.” Iggy held out her hand for Dmitriy. “From what I recall there was a lot of speculation as to why they blatantly tried to gun down the president in public. Many concluded the three spies were patsies who were meant to be caught. That way, the
“Let’s concentrate on the key cars involved.”
Dee pushed the other vehicles aside. “It’s in the afternoon when the entourage heads north on and makes a sharp left onto Elm, passing the gathering crowds on both sides.” She started rolling the matchbox presidential limo on the diorama and butted the motorcycles up behind it. “Fewer onlookers show up in Dealey than elsewhere; they line the curb only one person deep. Perhaps that helps explain the KGB’s brazenness.” She glanced up, astonished to see the whole crew riveted to her narrative. Houston
“At , the open-top black sedan nears Viktor on the infield. He is supposed to shoot the driver to slow the vehicle. But he draws early and misses, the bullet lodging in Agent Greer’s door. Governor Connally hears the deafening crack, sees the shiny weapon, and cries, ‘My God, they’re gonna kill us all!’ In heroic fashion, this former Navy lieutenant commander—who won a Bronze Star for bravery in World War II—turns to the president, tackles him, and tries to wrestle him to the floor. Obviously, he assumes JFK is in danger. By the Pergola, Ivan concurrently aims at Kennedy, but by now Connally is in the direct line of fire. His shot goes through the governor’s neck and lodges in the president’s shoulder. Neither wound is fatal. The noise and chaos cause driver Greer to brake in confusion, giving the KGB more opportunity. Witnessing Connally’s actions, a terrified Jackie turns toward her husband as Dmitriy pulls the trigger from further down the infield. The bullet rips into Mrs. Kennedy’s back, shattering a lung.” Swallowing with a gulp,
Sam took advantage of the hesitation. “What a colossal screw-up. I can’t believe the ineptitude of the KGB. A single target and they missed? I’ll wager it shouldn’t be too hard to stop these clowns.”
“One step at a time, Sam.”
Dee turned back to the model. “Secret Service members in the follow-up car react immediately. Clinton J. Hill races toward the convertible and mounts the bumper footstep. George W. Hickey Jr. cocks his rifle from the rear seat, while the other agents simultaneously draw their weapons. Right after the third shot, Special Agent John D. Ready leaps off the passenger side running board, and gallops up to the Pergola, where Ivan aims back at him. Ready shoots the commie in the head, killing him instantly. Meanwhile, Greer accelerates out of Dealey through the Triple Underpass with Agent Hill lying across the top of the back seat as a shield. Bobby Hargis, a motorcycle cop who flanked the driver’s side of the president’s car, guns his bike and jumps the curb onto the infield, chasing Viktor as he sprints after Dmitriy. While steering one-handed, Hargis manages to pull his gun with his free hand and nails Viktor in the behind as he tries to escape.” Lincoln
Quin exclaimed, “He shot him in the ass?”
Dee smiled shyly. “Although wounded, Viktor continues to lope ahead, so Hargis hops off the bike to give chase. He catches up and body slams Viktor. Dmitriy bolts to the getaway car they left on Main Street and peels away. As you can predict, pandemonium reigns in the plaza as citizens duck and cover or flee for their lives.” She pantomimed her fingers running up the staircase next to the Pergola toward the railway parking lot.
“With sirens wailing, the motorcade races to
, where JFK and Connally are treated. With severe injuries, the governor needs six hours of surgery to repair the damage, while the president is patched up with minimal intervention. Sadly, the First Lady is pronounced dead on arrival.” Parkland Memorial Hospital Dee sniffed.
“A Roman Catholic, the slain mother is given a public viewing in the rotunda of the
in DC on Sunday. On Monday, she is laid to rest in Capitol Building . I’m sure you remember the disturbing photo of daughter Caroline placing her teddy bear on the casket at the gravesite.” Arlington National Cemetery Dee dabbed the corner of her eyes with a tissue.
Iggy patted her shoulder. “I watched the coverage live. Seven years old, I sat in front of the TV playing with my dolls, mesmerized and frightened. Every station broadcast the footage; you couldn’t escape it. I identified with Caroline, who was just shy of her sixth birthday. I worried that someone would hurt my mommy as well.”
Sam interjected, “And that’s when Kennedy makes his notorious speech threatening the Soviets with retaliation. He unashamedly cries for his loss and parades his motherless children before the media.”
No one spoke for a few moments.
Bick finally stated the obvious. “Okay. We know what happened. How do we prevent it?”
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About the Author:
L.D.C. Fitzgerald is the author of SAVING JACKIE K, a thrilling adventure to rescue the First Lady. In writing a story with an unexpected twist on the Kennedy Conspiracy, Fitzgerald relentlessly researched the facts regarding the JFK assassination, and wove them into a fictional world.
The author name L.D.C. Fitzgerald is, in fact, a pseudonym representing the combined talents of two writers: Lisa D. and Dave C. Lisa is a recovering Marketing Executive, having spent two decades researching consumer insights. Dave, a self-educated computer geek, has been selling his soul to corporate
for over a quarter century. America
You can visit their book's website at www.savingjackiek.com.
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