The Men Who Killed Kennedy & Other Lies Sold To The Sheep

By T. Wolfe III

It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you.

 

Teddy Cruz has always pursued the capital 'T' Truth regardless of the cost that knowledge came with. After discovering a crucial clue in the failed assassination attempt of conspiracy theorist, Samuel Tamez. Teddy finds himself thrust further into a world of conspiracies and half-truths where no one is to be trusted and everything he has ever known is a lie.

 

Stalked by mysterious men in black and questioning everything he's ever known, Teddy seeks to discover the truth or die trying.

 

In this thrilling new short story by T. Wolfe III, (the author of short story collection The Devil Hates Sundays) the reader must ask themselves what happens when the pursuit of the truth goes too far?

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brakenport Apocryphal Publishing
• Release date: Feb 9, 2024
• ISBN: 9798223276425

T. Wolfe III

Thaddeus “T.” Wolfe III is a would-be writer, part-time game master and full time slacker. He is the author of the short story collection, The Devil Hates Sundays. A fan of horror, fantasy, sci-fi, and romance, T was initially introduced to reading by his parents who had no clue that their eldest child would be more than happy to get lost in the worlds between the covers of a book rather than going outside. He is at his happiest in used bookstores, his wallet is generally at its most miserable.

Book preview

Also By T. Wolfe III

The Devil Hates Sundays - A Short Story Collection

Listen to everyone, read everything, believe nothing unless you can prove it in your own research.

Bill Cooper

I

Teddy had watched the clip over a dozen times already. Sixteen going on seventeen but who was counting? He could practically recite the entire thing from memory. From the jazzy opening number the band played to the shocked ‘Call the police!’ from one of the staffers before the footage cut out.

What's the definition of insanity, Teddy? He tapped his fingers on the edge of his desk while the video struggled to load on his shitty wifi. It was probably his favorite perk of being unemployed. Doing the same thing over and over and over, Teddy. Why do you ask? Oh, no reason. No reason at all. He laughed to himself, scratching his shaggy beard.

The jazzy back from commercial break intro from the band began to play suddenly. Fumbling to get his notes ready, he nearly missed the camera zooming in on the show's set. A plain wood desk, littered with papers, pencils, and a clearly empty mug that the anchor pretended to drink from. The words, Lone Star Tonight, emblazoned in block letters on the side. Behind the desk was a photo of a Texan farmstead. He'd done his due diligence but was unable to find the farm's exact location.

Goddammit, Teddy. Get your head in the game.

Thom Rutherford—the host—was an older white gentleman with slicked back gray hair, dressed in a tan suit. He welcomed back the audience, made idle chit-chat with the band leader before taking his papers and tapping them on the desk. It was time for him to get serious.

"Now Mr. Tamez, you recently responded to the claims that an intelligence agency would have you assassinated for revealing the quote unquote truth in your book, He stifled a laugh at the word the truth before flashing the audience a wide smile. Clearing his throat, he continued, The Men Who Killed Kennedy & Other Lies Sold To The Sheep." He held up a copy of the book, a near blinding glare coming off the red and black dust jacket. Pausing the video, Teddy flipped through his notes.

At 1:15 mark he gives the first signal.

Book jacket catches the light.

Unpausing the video, Thom continued, "You said and I quote verbatim, ‘While the FBI, CIA, KGB and other global intelligence agencies have most certainly assassinated and discredited political agitators, whistle blowers, and so-called dissidents,’" he paused and mouthed the word Wow! As if on cue, the crowd laughed. Clearing his throat again—another signal perhaps—he continued, ‘my life is not in danger. Any threat I pose to powers that be, will be met with less flashy methods to discredit me.’

The second man, Samuel Tamez, nodded. He was a Hispanic man in his early thirties with gray streaks in his black hair. He was dressed in a plain blue suit with a pair of plain black dress shoes. He was living proof that even an everyman could learn the capital ‘T’ truth. He had peeked behind the curtain and seen Oz, the Great and Terrible, for who he truly was.

Smiling, he said, Yeah, those are my words. They're quite the mouthful, aren't they? The