Prologue
Star Witness
Star Witness
Jason McFarland stared at the metal grid above him,
supporting the mattress atop it.
This was a new experience for Jason. He had never slept in a bunk bed until a week ago, when his newly adopted brother, Jake, had come.
Jason had been staring at the grid for hours, willing himself to go to sleep, even though he dreaded it. Images haunted his dreams - things he couldn’t forget. The most prevalent of them was the image of a man, lying in a pool of blood, the tip of a knife sticking through his chest, two men standing nearby, their backs turned.
The stabbed man’s name was Thomas Reynolds. He was Jake’s father. Jason had been there, had watched him die, while the two men, Professor Julius Hammack and Charles Sabinski, his murderers, turned their backs in a kind of twisted respect.
The image woke Jason up every time, his heart racing. But this one night, Jason was willing to face that image, along with the other nightmares he experienced on a regular basis - anything to make tomorrow come faster.
Because tomorrow, Jason would fly to Washington, D.C. for the professor’s trial. Hammack would pay for his crimes.
And there was certainly more than just the murder of Reynolds.
The professor had invented a teleportation device, kidnapped the world’s leaders, and set an impossible ransom - the world. He had kidnapped Jason too.
Jason shivered as he remembered the days he spent in that cage, watching the professor work, the days he spent without food or water. He sighed. He couldn’t sleep. Not yet, at least. He slipped out of bed and walked to the window.
The street was dimly lit, a single streetlamp standing over the green sign that read “Mockingbird Lane”.
An unmarked car sat across the street from Jason’s house. Jason could faintly see two silhouettes inside, one taking a sip from a large thermos.
The men were FBI agents, Jason knew. They were here to protect him. He was the star witness of Hammack’s trial. This was likely their last night here, sitting in that car all night, sipping their coffee. After the trial, Jason would most likely be safe. The only threat was Sabinski. He had escaped at the last second using the professor’s teleportation device.
It was doubtful Sabinski would show up, though. He had what he wanted. He had stolen the second edition of the teleportation device - the teleportation gun. It was a truly deadly weapon, capable of teleporting anything anywhere just by firing at it.
Jason shivered again, remembering the first time he’d been teleported. It had felt like he was being torn apart, bit by bit. And in fact, he had been.
Hammack’s version of teleportation involved making an exact replica of the object to be teleported… and destroying the original. Jason shivered yet again. Technically, he wasn’t himself. He was a copy of himself. It was a truly horrifying thought.
Jason turned away from the window and climbed back into bed. He stared up once again at the metal grid. Soon, things will be different. Soon, I’ll be free. Just one more week…
Jason watched the man in the orange jumpsuit as he entered, with his frazzled white hair and neat beard. Hammack just didn’t look the same without his stained white lab coat.
The professor sat down, nervously twiddling his thumbs. He began to bite his fingernails. The judge banged his gavel and the jurors came in, one at a time, taking their seats.
“Has the jury reached a verdict?” the judge asked.
The foreman rose. “We, the jury,” the foreman said “find the defendant...” There was a pause, “not guilty.”
The foreman’s voice echoed in Jason’s head.
How? How could the jury have found the professor not guilty? The evidence was painfully clear. How could this have happened?
Jason watched as the professor turned and shook his lawyer’s hand. He was free. Free…
Jason awoke with a start. A dream… It had all been a dream. The professor wasn’t free. Jason sighed in relief.
He glanced at his alarm clock. It was 7 AM.
Jason quickly decided he couldn’t sleep. He slipped downstairs, where he found his father already awake, a coffee mug in one hand and a newspaper in the other.
“Hi, Jason,” he said, surprised. “I didn’t expect you up so early.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Jason grunted.
“Understandable,” his father replied. “You ready?”
Jason sighed. “I suppose.”
“Good,” his father said. “Want some coffee?”
“No, thanks.” Jason replied. He had never cared much for coffee. He sat down and politely asked for the daily crossword. He had yet to solve one, but he still tried nearly every morning. His father pulled out the page and handed it to Jason. Jason grabbed a pencil from a cup on the table and began filling in the words he knew. He glanced up at his father.
Jonathon McFarland had changed. Jason had never caught him reading a paper or drinking coffee before the events of the past weeks. Before, he was always either in his office or already gone by the time Jason was up. But now he had retired from the FBI and he spent a lot more time at home. Sometimes, Jason wondered if his father was bored, tired of the daily routine, the lack of excitement and intrigue.
He looked back down at his crossword. 13 down: Unexciting. B_R_ _ _. Boring. Jason quickly wrote it in. An appropriate word.
They sat there for an hour, each absorbed in their morning activities. Jason eventually gave up on the crossword, and moved on to the Sudoku puzzle. Jonathon refilled his coffee once or twice.
At around 8’o’clock, Jake came downstairs.
Right on time. Jason thought.
Jonathon pulled out the comics page without Jake even having to ask. Jake grabbed it and began to read.
Jason frowned. Jake rarely laughed at any of the comics. Occasionally, Jason heard a slight chuckle, but nothing more. It was obvious Jake missed his father. He walked around rather gloomily, a sad expression on his face. It felt like forever since Jake had last played a prank. It felt wrong for Jake to be so gloomy. His lively personality and constant pranking was what had made him and Jason friends in the first place. His grief alone made Jason want to bring the professor to justice.
Jason’s mother, Emily, walked into the dining room where the three sat. Knowing her, she had probably been up hours ago, reading a book in bed. She set about making some breakfast - scrambled eggs and hash browns.
When the food was ready, Jason served himself up, and quickly cleaned his plate. The others did the same.
It was a tense morning, to say the least.
Jason glanced at the clock. It was 9:15. Jonathon noticed it too. Their flight left at 11, and they were supposed to arrive an hour early.
“We’d better get going.” Jonathon said.
Jason readily agreed. He rushed upstairs with Jake to grab their luggage.
Fifteen minutes later, the car pulled out of the driveway.
Emily was driving while Jonathon sat in the front seat, looking over some papers. Jason and Jake sat in the back, Jake’s backpack on the middle seat in between them. It looked heavy, loaded down with several thick books. Jason had no carry-on; he had just stuffed a few things in Jake’s backpack.
It was a relatively short drive to the airport, and it took them only about twenty minutes. They checked their bags, went through security, and waited to board.
Jason pulled a pencil and a Sudoku book out of Jake’s bag, and sat down on a bench to wait.
This was a new experience for Jason. He had never slept in a bunk bed until a week ago, when his newly adopted brother, Jake, had come.
Jason had been staring at the grid for hours, willing himself to go to sleep, even though he dreaded it. Images haunted his dreams - things he couldn’t forget. The most prevalent of them was the image of a man, lying in a pool of blood, the tip of a knife sticking through his chest, two men standing nearby, their backs turned.
The stabbed man’s name was Thomas Reynolds. He was Jake’s father. Jason had been there, had watched him die, while the two men, Professor Julius Hammack and Charles Sabinski, his murderers, turned their backs in a kind of twisted respect.
The image woke Jason up every time, his heart racing. But this one night, Jason was willing to face that image, along with the other nightmares he experienced on a regular basis - anything to make tomorrow come faster.
Because tomorrow, Jason would fly to Washington, D.C. for the professor’s trial. Hammack would pay for his crimes.
And there was certainly more than just the murder of Reynolds.
The professor had invented a teleportation device, kidnapped the world’s leaders, and set an impossible ransom - the world. He had kidnapped Jason too.
Jason shivered as he remembered the days he spent in that cage, watching the professor work, the days he spent without food or water. He sighed. He couldn’t sleep. Not yet, at least. He slipped out of bed and walked to the window.
The street was dimly lit, a single streetlamp standing over the green sign that read “Mockingbird Lane”.
An unmarked car sat across the street from Jason’s house. Jason could faintly see two silhouettes inside, one taking a sip from a large thermos.
The men were FBI agents, Jason knew. They were here to protect him. He was the star witness of Hammack’s trial. This was likely their last night here, sitting in that car all night, sipping their coffee. After the trial, Jason would most likely be safe. The only threat was Sabinski. He had escaped at the last second using the professor’s teleportation device.
It was doubtful Sabinski would show up, though. He had what he wanted. He had stolen the second edition of the teleportation device - the teleportation gun. It was a truly deadly weapon, capable of teleporting anything anywhere just by firing at it.
Jason shivered again, remembering the first time he’d been teleported. It had felt like he was being torn apart, bit by bit. And in fact, he had been.
Hammack’s version of teleportation involved making an exact replica of the object to be teleported… and destroying the original. Jason shivered yet again. Technically, he wasn’t himself. He was a copy of himself. It was a truly horrifying thought.
Jason turned away from the window and climbed back into bed. He stared up once again at the metal grid. Soon, things will be different. Soon, I’ll be free. Just one more week…
Jason watched the man in the orange jumpsuit as he entered, with his frazzled white hair and neat beard. Hammack just didn’t look the same without his stained white lab coat.
The professor sat down, nervously twiddling his thumbs. He began to bite his fingernails. The judge banged his gavel and the jurors came in, one at a time, taking their seats.
“Has the jury reached a verdict?” the judge asked.
The foreman rose. “We, the jury,” the foreman said “find the defendant...” There was a pause, “not guilty.”
The foreman’s voice echoed in Jason’s head.
How? How could the jury have found the professor not guilty? The evidence was painfully clear. How could this have happened?
Jason watched as the professor turned and shook his lawyer’s hand. He was free. Free…
Jason awoke with a start. A dream… It had all been a dream. The professor wasn’t free. Jason sighed in relief.
He glanced at his alarm clock. It was 7 AM.
Jason quickly decided he couldn’t sleep. He slipped downstairs, where he found his father already awake, a coffee mug in one hand and a newspaper in the other.
“Hi, Jason,” he said, surprised. “I didn’t expect you up so early.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Jason grunted.
“Understandable,” his father replied. “You ready?”
Jason sighed. “I suppose.”
“Good,” his father said. “Want some coffee?”
“No, thanks.” Jason replied. He had never cared much for coffee. He sat down and politely asked for the daily crossword. He had yet to solve one, but he still tried nearly every morning. His father pulled out the page and handed it to Jason. Jason grabbed a pencil from a cup on the table and began filling in the words he knew. He glanced up at his father.
Jonathon McFarland had changed. Jason had never caught him reading a paper or drinking coffee before the events of the past weeks. Before, he was always either in his office or already gone by the time Jason was up. But now he had retired from the FBI and he spent a lot more time at home. Sometimes, Jason wondered if his father was bored, tired of the daily routine, the lack of excitement and intrigue.
He looked back down at his crossword. 13 down: Unexciting. B_R_ _ _. Boring. Jason quickly wrote it in. An appropriate word.
They sat there for an hour, each absorbed in their morning activities. Jason eventually gave up on the crossword, and moved on to the Sudoku puzzle. Jonathon refilled his coffee once or twice.
At around 8’o’clock, Jake came downstairs.
Right on time. Jason thought.
Jonathon pulled out the comics page without Jake even having to ask. Jake grabbed it and began to read.
Jason frowned. Jake rarely laughed at any of the comics. Occasionally, Jason heard a slight chuckle, but nothing more. It was obvious Jake missed his father. He walked around rather gloomily, a sad expression on his face. It felt like forever since Jake had last played a prank. It felt wrong for Jake to be so gloomy. His lively personality and constant pranking was what had made him and Jason friends in the first place. His grief alone made Jason want to bring the professor to justice.
Jason’s mother, Emily, walked into the dining room where the three sat. Knowing her, she had probably been up hours ago, reading a book in bed. She set about making some breakfast - scrambled eggs and hash browns.
When the food was ready, Jason served himself up, and quickly cleaned his plate. The others did the same.
It was a tense morning, to say the least.
Jason glanced at the clock. It was 9:15. Jonathon noticed it too. Their flight left at 11, and they were supposed to arrive an hour early.
“We’d better get going.” Jonathon said.
Jason readily agreed. He rushed upstairs with Jake to grab their luggage.
Fifteen minutes later, the car pulled out of the driveway.
Emily was driving while Jonathon sat in the front seat, looking over some papers. Jason and Jake sat in the back, Jake’s backpack on the middle seat in between them. It looked heavy, loaded down with several thick books. Jason had no carry-on; he had just stuffed a few things in Jake’s backpack.
It was a relatively short drive to the airport, and it took them only about twenty minutes. They checked their bags, went through security, and waited to board.
Jason pulled a pencil and a Sudoku book out of Jake’s bag, and sat down on a bench to wait.