CHAPTER SEVEN
zapruder and frankel

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IF SOMEONE WERE to claim that Nadine Vidal had a problem with guns, it would be an understatement. After the plethora of traumatizing events that had featured guns—being shot by Hazel and Cha-Cha at eighteen, army-crawling through the Umbrella Academy to avoid their bullets at twenty-nine, and evading Commission agents who sought her death in a bowling alley and theatre—Nadine didn't just have a problem with guns; she had a debilitating phobia. A week after she'd been launched into 1961, Nadine hadn't even been able to hear a balloon pop without reliving grinning cartoon faces and heavy-duty gas masks. Two years later, and she still sometimes flinched whenever the weapons showed up on television.

So when she arrived at Morty's Television to be greeted by a barrel of a rifle staring her down, it was safe to say that it almost sent her into a breakdown.

She'd spent the car ride there catching up with Diego, interested to see what he'd been doing since his arrival. It turned out that being locked up in an asylum made for some pretty boring stories—at least, right until he brought up the night of his escape. He'd been so determined to free himself from his straitjacket (and yes, they really did have straitjackets in the 1960s) that he'd dislocated his own shoulder, and clawed his way along the wall until he'd met up with Lila. There, they'd been confronted with three gun-toting maniacs who had attempted to take them down. It was only through their combined efforts—and the idea to unlock all of the cell doors—that kept them alive that night.

Nadine did notice the way Five tensed when Diego mentioned his attackers, but quickly forgot about it. She was too focused on Diego's thrilling adventure, and how he'd met up with Five again.

"Who do you think they were?" she asked, accepting a piece of spearmint gum Lila offered her. Diego shrugged.

"Dunno. Probably your average crazies. This place is a warzone, you know."

Then he'd asked Nadine what she'd been doing, and the bubble she'd been blowing popped. Flattening the piece with her tongue again, she gave a furtive glance at Lila. "I'm not sure I should say."

"Don't worry, you can trust her," said Diego. "She's spent the past few months with me at the asylum. I don't think anything fazes her."

"It's true," Lila said, giving Nadine a pearl-toothed grin.

So Nadine had obliged. She told them all about the aquarium and her sexist ex-boss, as well as the whole debacle with Thomas Clarkson and his infuriating marriage proposal. Lila—who Nadine was already beginning to like—burst into cackles when Nadine explained how she'd slammed him against the wall and seriously bruised his masculinity. Diego just shook his head.

"And Five says I'm impulsive."

"You two are made for each other," Five shot back, staring out the window. He was—understandably—not too focused on this conversation, as there were likely more pressing matters on his mind. But Nadine found that talking helped smother the persistent worries about the end of the world bouncing around her mind.

Plus, this Diego seemed to have learned a thing or two about anger management while locked away, as he hadn't snapped at her at all yet. Perhaps they might actually become friends now.

Of course, the reality of the situation hit them all in the face as soon as they arrived at the television store. It was one of the buildings that sandwiched the alleyway she'd dropped into two years ago. Nadine averted her eyes when she walked past it.

She was walking upstairs with Diego, Lila, and Five, recalling the first apocalypse and wondering if it was even possible to stop the second, when she came face to face with a rifle. It pointed right at her chest, quivering slightly, a murderer waiting to strike her down. And, just like she had when she'd reunited with Hazel and Cha-Cha again, Nadine froze.

"Where did you get the film?" the man on the other end of the weapon demanded. "The 'Frankel Footage.' The truth, this time."

Lila's hands immediately raised in surrender, but Diego and Five barely flinched, even when their attacker drew closer. Nadine, on the other hand, couldn't even breathe. She'd told herself she wasn't going to do this again—she'd taken too many self-defense classes to become a useless rock when she was actually faced with danger—yet here she was again, her body encased in stone.

For a moment, all she could see was the pink dog and blue bear masks of Hazel and Cha-Cha. The way they'd cornered her. The way she'd backed up until there was nowhere to back to. And then she remembered that they were gone. Dead, or back at Commission Headquarters. They weren't on the prowl for her anymore.

The stone cracked, and Nadine shot back into herself. She took her first real glimpse at the man, noting his neat blazer and pants. He was probably in his mid-forties, and he had a wild look on his face, an expression that was almost feral. She took a note of the way he was holding the gun—loose and awkwardly, as if he'd never picked one up before. She calculated how fast she could wrangle it out of his hands. And she realized that this guy—unlike Hazel and Cha-Cha or the other Commission agents—wasn't a threat.

Finally, her breath came back. Her body trembled.

"You know this lunatic?" Diego asked, unconcerned. He hadn't frozen. He'd known, from the beginning, that this man posed no real danger to them. A surge of jealousy boiled up in Nadine. If only she wasn't still a prisoner to her own mind.

Five let out a sigh. "New acquaintance. He's harmless."

Lila blinked. "Are you sure about that?"

Nadine stared down the face of the gun. If her attacker's finger moved even a millimeter closer to the trigger, she could be there, wrestling it out of his hands and training it back on him. She'd knock him over the head with it and send him to the ground, and that would be it.

She didn't have to die today.

"Are you or are you not an enemy of the people?" the man shrieked.

There was a beat, and then Diego muttered, "That's such an open-ended question."

"Really depends on the people," said Five at the same time.

Nadine could've said something, too, but she decided to focus on readying herself. Her feet shifted slightly, her hands balled into fists, and her jaw clenched. Don't even try me, old man, she told him silently.

"You move one more muscle, I will blow your brains out," their attacker warned. Nadine took in another deep breath. Go ahead and try it.

"You want to take this or should I?" Diego asked. Nadine didn't think he was talking to her or Lila.

"No, I got him," Five replied. Just as Nadine had suspected.

Diego turned to the woman beside him. "Hey, Lila..." he began. Right as she turned her head to look at him, Five disappeared, reappearing right in front of their attacker. He shoved the gun's barrel up to the ceiling, and it went off with a bang that rattled Nadine's teeth. As dust rained down on their heads, Diego stepped forward, seizing the weapon and unloading it with ease. As the rounds clattered to the floor, the man stepped back. That was when Nadine made her move.

Springing forward, she delivered a spinning kick to the attacker's chest. He wasn't nearly as good as Hazel and Cha-Cha, and made no move to block it. It hit him right in the sternum, and he crumbled like a sack of potatoes.

Nadine's knees buckled, and she sank to the floor. She'd done it. She'd actually done it.

Maybe she hadn't lost her touch, after all.

"What the hell just happened?"

Lila's voice dragged Nadine out of her thoughts. She turned, and found the woman still standing by the stairwell, hands half-raised into the air. Her eyes were blown wide, and she was looking from Nadine to Five to Diego with her mouth open.

No one really had an explanation for that one.

"Well, that was a warm welcome," said Diego. "This is the guy you're staying with?"

Five eyed the now unconscious man with contempt. "His name's Elliott," he said. "Conspiracy theorist extraordinaire. But he's been tracking all of us since we've gotten here, and he had the technology needed to develop some footage I picked up. Whatever he saw must have freaked him out, which means we're on the right track."

"Is this something about the—" Diego glanced at Lila, "—the you-know-what?"

"There's a strong possibility," said Five. "I'll go set it up. The three of you, deal with him. It should only take a few minutes."

Nadine slowly clambered to her feet, her heart still racing. Adrenaline had kicked in when she'd taken the man—Elliott—out, but now that it was all over, exhaustion swept through her. She expected to be shaking, but she wasn't. Maybe because she'd finally proved to herself that she could do it.

Diego looked like he was going to argue about being given orders by someone who appeared as if he'd barely started puberty, but Nadine quieted him with a look. "C'mon," she said quietly. "Let's just do this."

Diego sighed heavily but complied. As a unit, he, Nadine, and Lila (who seemed to be coping exceptionally well given what she'd been thrown into) bound and gagged their attacker. Neither Diego nor Nadine bothered to be gentle, given that he'd just threatened to shoot their brains out, and Nadine knew that when Elliott woke up, he was going to be exceptionally uncomfortable.

Good.

Once that was done, Nadine decided to take a look around the apartment. Just looking around, you could already tell that Five's assessment of him of a conspiracy theorist extraordinaire was accurate. The walls were covered in papers, and there was a certain section of it that seemed devoted to grainy photos. Nadine stepped closer, curious, and was in for a shock when she found that they were all pictures of the Umbrella Academy.

He's been tracking us, Five had said. This, apparently, was what he had meant; pictures of each and every one of them the day they fell into the '60s. There was a two-year-old picture of Nadine, wearing her polka-dotted dress and covered in grime. In the few pixels that made up her hair, a white bandage peeked out. When she squinted, she could even make out those shitty bowling shoes.

And there were the other members: Klaus, Vanya, Diego, Luther, and Allison. It was such a relief to see them all—even Luther. Knowing that they were alive, that they were here, loosened something in Nadine's chest. She reached out and touched Vanya's photo. In it, she was still in the white suit she'd worn at her concert, though her eyes appeared to have returned to normal. She was okay. And Nadine was going to find her soon.

She was just looking over Allison's photo—where she could distinctly see the bandage on her throat—when Five called her over. Nadine cast one more glance at the collection of photos and headed over, anxious to see what Five had found.

Elliott was beginning to stir, now, and Lila was sitting beside him, unscrewing a bottle of rather ugly green nail polish. Nadine sat on his other side, biting her lip in anticipation.

The projector shuttered on, and the film began to reel. The first thing that played on-screen was a close-up of an older woman's face. A pair of black glasses perched on her nose, and a scarf wound around her head. A few deep wrinkles were carved into her skin, though Nadine speculated she was likely only in her late sixties.

"Is it on?" she asked the person behind the camera, who turned out to be an older man. Considering the way the camera was shaking, it was clear he had no idea what he was doing—which was further evidenced by the argument that soon occurred between the both of them, in which they went back and forth about the buttons.

Nadine furrowed her eyebrows, leaning forward. What was this about?

Lila, who was currently painting Elliott's big toe, smiled. "They're so cute," she remarked. "I love old couples. I'm always so proud of them for not murdering each other."

Diego, who was propped up on the counter, fiddling with his knife, turned to Five. "Why are we watching this?"

"Shush," snapped Five, eyes locked on the screen.

Nadine looked back to the film just in time to see that the man behind the camera had evidently passed it over to his wife, as he was now in view. "Yeah, I—I'm Dan Frankel," he began. "And..."

"I'm Edna Frankel," said the woman.

He gestured outside the frame. "Edna Frankel. And... oh, there she is."

A new voice cut into the tape. Though the sound quality wasn't as crisp as it would've been if the tape was from 2019, the voice was still recognizable enough that Nadine was sitting up straight. "You two started without me?"

When the camera panned, there she was. Molly Hamasaki, wearing a teal shift and red heels, walked towards them, a bright grin on her face. She was lovely as ever, and even the grainy quality of the video managed to capture it.

Nadine stood up immediately, and moved closer to the projected film. "Molly?" she shook her head in disbelief, staring at her girlfriend's face. "What is she—what is she doing here?"

"You know her?" Diego asked, as on-screen, Dan Frankel laughed and slung an arm around Molly's shoulder.

"Yeah," said Nadine breathlessly. "She's... she's my..."

She cut herself off. Her eyes darted to Lila, who was still painting Elliott's toes, and Elliott himself, who was now awake and writhing in his restraints. Both of them were from the sixties, which meant they were both products of the rampant homophobia of this time. Even though Lila didn't seem like someone who'd care if Nadine preferred women over men, and Elliott was currently tied up, Nadine didn't want to risk it.

"She's my friend," she finished. "She's the one I've been staying with for the past two years."

"And you've never seen this film before?" Diego asked. Nadine shook her head.

She stepped even closer to the screen, completely engrossed, just as Dan Frankel said, "And this is Molly Hamasaki, our granddaughter. We are in Dallas, Texas, to see the president."

"And Molly, of course," added Edna fondly. Molly let out a laugh, which, as usual, made Nadine's insides feel warm.

"Today's date is November 22nd, 1963," said Dan. Lila paused from her toe-painting and looked up to the screen.

"Well, that's six days from now."

"Holy shit. This is it," said Diego. Now it was his turn to lean forward. "The grassy knoll. Kennedy's about to get shot." He turned to Five. "How do you have this?"

"Hazel died to get me this footage," Five replied casually. "It must be the key to stopping doomsday."

It took Nadine a second to process this, but when she did, she whirled around. "Hazel? You mean the assassin in the blue bear mask that tried to kill me?"

"That's the one," said Five. "It's kind of a long story."

"What's doomsday?" Lila asked.

"Longer story."

"Wait, wait," Nadine's chest tightened. "You said... you said he died?"

Five nodded. "Likely Cha-Cha is, too. I don't think she even managed to get out of the 2019 apocalypse."

Nadine finally managed to step away from the screen to shoot a glare at him. "And you didn't think to tell me?"

"I'm telling you now, aren't I?" Five still didn't look at her. Nadine bunched her hands into fists, a muscle ticking in her jaw, but kept her mouth shut. Perhaps she should be focusing more on the film—the film Five had made sure they all knew was supremely, incredibly important, the film that, impossibly, contained Molly Hamasaki—but she couldn't help but instead think of Hazel and Cha-Cha. So they were dead. The assassins who had caused her so much trauma... gone.

It really is over.

"I'm sorry, can someone catch me up to speed?" Lila asked. "Who are Hazel and Cha-Cha?"

"Not now," Five snapped. Even though Nadine's mind continued to whirl, Five's continuous dismissal of everyone made her want to punch his face in.

Diego furrowed his brow. "What exactly did Hazel say to you?"

"Well, he was killed before he could explain," began Five casually. "But whatever he wanted us to see, it's on this film."

"This is very exciting," said Dan on-screen, full of anticipation for the president's arrival. Molly, who was squeezing her grandfather's arm, nodded enthusiastically. She was just opening her mouth to say something to the camera when gunshots rang out, slightly muffled by the poor audio of the film. The camera dropped away from Dan and Molly—it seemed that Edna had let it fall in her surprise. Immediately, a chorus of screaming rang out—Nadine could recognize Molly's voice among the others. As her heart squeezed for her girlfriend, Diego leaned closer.

"Oswald," he said.

The camera flipped over again, righting itself, and showed a shaky image of the grassy knoll. "Oh, no," Five breathed, and went over to the projector. With a click of a button, the film rewound, the screams echoing back to Nadine. She saw a flash of Molly's hair, a glimpse of her terrified eyes, and wished she could reach through the screen to get to her.

Five pressed another button, and the film stopped. Then his eyes widened. He moved the cart with the projector on it backwards, attempting to get a clearer image. At first, Nadine wondered what he'd seen, but then she realized who the man in the frame was. She'd never seen him in person, but she'd watched enough interviews and read enough magazines to know exactly who they were looking at.

"This can't be," said Five, joining Nadine closer to the screen. Lila looked to the three of them, completely bewildered.

"Okay, you gonna fill me in now, guys? What the hell is this shit we're watching?"

Both Diego and Five's noses were nearly touching the screen now, casting their shadows over the blurred figure. "No, that's impossible," murmured Diego.

A muscle jumped in Five's jaw. "Clearly, it's not."

Nadine just blinked. "But how... but why... why would he...?" her voice trailed off. First Molly, and now this. Reginald Hargreeves, in Dallas, Texas, 1963, the very day President Kennedy was shot.

"What... what it is?" Elliott attempted to ask through his gag. Nadine turned to him. A crease had appeared between her brows.

"It's... well..." she began, but Five and Diego finished for her.

"Dad."

THE LAST TIME Nadine had seen Five so shaken, he was standing in the ruins of what had been the Umbrella Academy. Everyone was shaken-up after losing both Pogo and Grace and nearly their own lives, and then Five had made it worse by announcing that the apocalypse was still on. He'd been nearly feral, waving that newspaper around, practically ripping his hair out. Now, the appearance of his father in the Frankel Footage was giving him a nearly identical reaction.

He paced back and forth, face haloed by the glow of the screen, one hand tangled into his hair. Nadine, standing at his left, could see that his eyes had gone so wide his pupils were entirely circled with white, and his mouth seemed perpetually locked into a gape. It made sense. Five hadn't seen his father since he was really a thirteen-year-old boy, which meant that it had been forty-five years. And now he was face-to-face with him, even if it was on tape... Nadine couldn't imagine the extent of the emotions that were definitely running through him right now. Especially since he'd found him on footage of the assassination of John F. Kennedy.

"Of course Dad would be involved in the assassination," said Diego, who had sat back down in his own surprise. "I should've known."

Nadine, whose fingers were laced together so tightly her knuckles had become white starbursts, turned to him. "You should've known?" she repeated. "Was—or, I suppose, is—your father really the type to do such a thing?"

It seemed every day she was with the Umbrella Academy, she learned another unhinged fact about their father. He was certainly a far cry from the man headlined on news channels and magazines—there, he had been called eccentric instead of bat-shit insane. If Diego, who had lived with Reginald Hargreeves for seventeen years of his life, thought it was obvious he had something to do with the Kennedy assassination, then there must have been a reason. What exactly had Reggie gotten up to in his youth?

Five shook his head. "No, he's just jumping to conclusions."

Diego got to his feet. "What the hell else is he doing standing on the grassy knoll, holding an open black umbrella on a sunny day in Dallas the exact same moment the president got shot?" As he spoke, he gestured wildly to the captured image on-screen, his voice growing more and more heated. Nadine glanced at Lila and Elliott, momentarily concerned they were revealing too much about the future, but she supposed that ship had sailed. And although Elliott's eyes were practically bulging from his head, Lila was slumped in her heat, propping her head up with her hand.

"It doesn't look good, I admit," said Five.

"No, he's the signalman for the whole goddamn thing," Diego theorized, looking to the screen again. Nadine stepped forward, about to try and cool him down, but before she could, Five interrupted her.

"Easy, Diego. Seriously."

"No, no, it makes sense. This is what Hazel was obviously trying to tell you. We have to stop Dad from killing the president."

"Diego, calm down, all right? Dad was no Boy Scout, but presidential assassination? It's never been his thing."

"Yeah," said Nadine. "And I thought... wasn't it Lee Harvey Oswald who killed the President? Not Reginald? It just... it doesn't make sense."

"How you would you two know?" Diego asked bluntly. "You—" he gestured to Nadine, "—have never even met him. And you—" now, he spoke to Five, "—skipped out on his golden years."

"I mean, that's fair," murmured Nadine.

"Skipped out?" Five repeated incredulously. "You think I had it easy, Diego?" He stepped forward, his mouth contorting into a snarl. Nadine figured he was trying to be intimidating, but it really didn't work. Not when he appeared so young, and was still wearing the Umbrella Academy uniform. "I was alone for forty-five years." He looked as if he wanted to say more, but he cut himself off. "You know what? We don't have the time for this right now. Dad's clearly in Dallas, right? Let's just go talk to him. Maybe he can help us fix the timeline."

Nadine's eyebrows immediately raised. "You can do that?" she asked. Five nodded.

"It's been done before."

"But wouldn't that... I don't know, mess things up? Talking to your father before he even knows he's your father?"

Five breathed out an impatient sigh. "Don't you get it? The timeline is already messed up. The world's about to end. But our father... maybe he knows a way to fix it. At this point, the pros outweigh the cons."

"Dallas is a big place," said Diego skeptically. "We'd need to find him first."

Five rolled his eyes. "Gee, if only we had some magical, old-timey way of finding people and their addresses."

He meant the phonebook.

In a matter of minutes, the three of them—Nadine, Five, and Diego—were bent over the phonebook, their eyes scanning the tiny words for any mention of a Reginald Hargreeves. Nadine wasn't sure if Five and Diego actually wanted her to come with them, but it wasn't like she was just going to stay behind. Especially not when this mission might prove to be the first step in saving the world. Especially not when it might provide her an opportunity to meet Reginald Hargreeves for the very first time. Sure, Nadine may have known now how much of a jackass he was, but she couldn't help herself. She'd met all of the living Hargreeves siblings. She'd been saved by the dead one. And if she met Reginald, then she could safely say she'd at least seen all of the Umbrella Academy in person.

Plus, she'd thought this out already. Maybe if she spoke to Reginald first, she could find a way to ease him into the news that he had children—and children from the future, at that. Sure, she may not have been the most eloquent woman alive—and Reginald Hargreeves both dressed and acted like he was the President of the United States of America—but it didn't matter. She'd find the words.

"Let's start simple," Five said now, watching Diego flip through the pages. "His name."

Diego found the section with all of the H names, and narrowed it down to Har. "Hargreeves... Hargreeves... Hargreeves..." he murmured, scanning past Harden and Hargrove and Harrington. "Shit, nothing here."

"Try his company," Five suggested, "D.S. Umbrella Manufacturing Co."

Diego shot his brother a look. "Yeah, I know the name. Thanks."

While he flipped through more pages, Nadine turned to the third member of their impromptu trio. "So, Five..." she began. "About the woman in the film, Molly... do you think she has... do you think she has anything to do with the apocalypse, or is it just a coincidence that she and her family were there?"

"Coincidence," said Five immediately. His eyes never left the pages of the phonebook. "Have you heard of the Zapruder Film?"

Nadine shook her head.

Five exhaled. "It was a film shot by a Ukrainian clothing manufacturer that also captured the assassination of the President," he explained. "Zapruder himself only wanted to capture Kennedy's drive through Dealey Plaza, but ended up unexpectedly capturing his death. It's the same thing here. Another home movie that happened to catch my father on it." He furrowed his brow. "It is strange that you are staying with her, though."

Before Nadine could say anything to that, Diego spoke up. "Holy shit."

There it was: the address for Reginald's umbrella company, written in bold. A mixture of anxiety and anticipation curdled through Nadine.

They'd found it.

"Let's go," said Diego, already moving to gather his things. Nadine stared down at the address for a moment more, memorizing the street number, and then hastened to follow. Before she left the room completely, though, she took out a knife from Elliott's block. It was probably unnecessary, but given that Nadine's abilities were not ones that could be used offensively, it felt good to have a weapon on her. She moved to slide it into the pockets of her dress, then remembered there were none. Curse women's clothing. Finally, she had to settle with pushing it into her sock. It was only then that she caught up with Diego and Five.

On the way out, they passed Elliott, who was still bound and gagged. Lila had disappeared, which was a real shame. They hadn't known each other for long, but already, Lila brought such life to what may have been sheer dreariness.

Plus, her presence meant that Nadine didn't have to be around men all day. That was always a positive.

"He okay to leave here like that?" Diego asked about Elliott, ignoring his muffled pleas for help.

Five shrugged him off. "Yeah, he's fine. What about the girl?"

"Woman," Nadine corrected. It was likely Five wasn't trying to infantilize her, but whenever men referred to adult women as girls, it felt like a tick was burrowing under her skin.

Diego turned, and seemed to just now realize that Lila had disappeared. "Shit," he breathed, and went off to go find her. That, unfortunately, meant that Nadine was left with Five.

She cleared her throat. "I'm going to call Molly," she said. "She's probably wondering why I'm not back by now. I'll have to tell her I'm coming home late."

Five sighed, then nodded. "Go ahead."

Nadine tossed him a two-finger salute, then headed to the phone. This, unfortunately, meant she had to pass Elliott again. He was still writhing in his bonds, his toenails swamp-green, a cloth gag stretched tightly over his lips. Despite this, and despite the fact he seemed to believe Nadine was some kind of alien, he cried out for her. "Help... me."

Nadine stopped in front of him. Her hand twitched at her side, anxious to free him from his confines, but she remembered that he'd held a gun to her face. "I can't," she said, anyway. Despite everything, she really did feel for him. "I'm sorry. I bet Lila will untie you when we're gone, though. Just hang on."

Before Elliott attempted to make any more pleads, Nadine quickly turned, walking away from him. She could feel adrenaline swirling through her veins like blood. Her heart was pounding.

Today might be the day I meet the Umbrella Academy's founder. Dear ol' daddy himself. 

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