Flashback NNL 2100 hrs November 11, 1970

“Sir, we have the subject.” The unmemorable NSA agent opened Isaac Mentnor's office door without knocking. A female agent walked in with a sleeping, three month old infant. Blue satin trimmed the pale yellow blanket wrapped around the child. He lay peacefully against the agent's arm arm and chest.

“It isn't a subject, it's a baby.” Mentnor shot up from his roller chair, angry and amazed. The Panel had discussed isolating a chrononaut as an infant, but Isaac hadn't thought they'd actually go through with it. The concerned doctor had written several letters of complaint to the Panel.

“Just doing as the Panel told us, Sir.” The nondescript agent shrugged, swallowing nervously. Mentnor escorted the female agent to the comfortable, arm chair in the corner of his office.

“What am I supposed to do with an infant?” Isaac thought to himself. There had to be a way to do the right thing; to give the child a normal life.

“Here are the director's instructions, Dr. Mentnor.” The male agent handed him a manilla envelope. Isaac tore it open, his eyes racing over the neatly typed pages. What he read made him sick. The child was to be raised in a sterile environment, free of other children, distractions and popular culture. As soon as Mentnor read the instructions he knew their source-the Centre. Isaac had observed the Centre team reverse engineering crash debris. The young boy called Jarod had made short work of the ship's control panel. His intelligence was amazing, but Isaac wondered how happy he was living at the Centre. Jarod's big, dark eyes had kept Sydney, his mentor, in sight at all times. Everything about the Centre had disturbed Dr. Mentnor. He had gone along with the Panel's decision to allow the Centre and Mr. Parker's team to consult, for the good of the project. Taking a child from it's biological parents, whether by fair means or foul, was entirely too much. Disgusted and overwhelmed, Dr. Mentnor left his office. He had to get away, somewhere quiet.

Around the clock, NNL crawled with people working on Project Backstep. Welders, electrical engineers, and workers of all kinds moved about the complex. Mentnor worked his way up, towards fresh air. The number of employees thinned out as Isaac walked out into the parking lot. Lights overhead created pools of garish, yellow light, circles of shadow banishing iridescence. Stars twinkled overhead as Isaac leaned against his Chevy Impala.

“Dr. Mentnor.” The voice came out of a deep pool of shadow. Isaac jumped at the sound. He'd been a million miles away, thinking about the child. “Oh, doctor, my apologies, I didn't intend to startle you.” A worn pair of brown eyes and a half smile showed beneath the other man's military hat. Mentnor chuckled dryly.

“It's quite alright, Major.” He wondered why the military officer was walking through the civilian parking structure.

“I'm looking for Mr. Parker, I had a message for him.” The major looked off towards the desert before looking at Isaac. The scientist narrowed his gaze, measuring the man standing before him. Something gnawed at him, wearing the very marrow of his bones to a frazzle.

“Major, you don't have a message for Mr. Parker any more than I have purple polka dots, why are you actually looking for him?” Mentnor gambled that the major wouldn't shoot him right there in the parking lot.

“This is why I'm looking for the SOB.” With one, quick motion the major pulled a photo from his shirt pocket and handed it to Dr. Mentnor. Two young boys sat together on a wooden porch swing. The oldest smiled, his front tooth missing.

“The little one is Kyle and the older one is Jarod. The Centre took Jarod six years ago and Kyle five.” Tears formed in the major's eyes. “When I found out Mr. Parker and the Centre were involved with Project Backstep, I saw an opportunity to get my boys back.” Major Charles wiped away the tears and pulled himself together. Mentnor could only imagine the pain this man felt. He had a family and knew the need to protect them-at all costs.

“I saw Mr. Parker a few hours ago.” Mentnor handed back the photograph.

“If I could get my hands on Mr. Parker I could use him as a hostage, to get my boys back.” The major clenched his fist until the knuckles turned white.

“I doubt that would work, Major, his organization would most likely dispose of the both of you without a second thought.” The doctor understood how fragile those in authority actually were. They were replaceable, like tires or a fan belt on a Ford.

“I have to try, Dr. Mentnor.” Major Charles shrugged. Both men went quiet for a while; full of their own thoughts.

“Would you like the opportunity to help someone else, Major, to save a child from living a life devoid of feeling or normalcy?” Isaac spoke, a plan forming from the back of his mind as he did.

“If my sons are beyond my reach, yes, the Centre has done enough damage.” Major Charles perked up, willing to tell them where to stick his indignation.

Mentnor drove Major Charles to a small bar where they could talk. He filled him in on the situation with the child the Panel had abducted. Base regulars frequented the metal, hangar shaped liquor barn. Neon lights overhead advertised two or three of the most popular beers around. Baskets of peanuts sat on all the tables. Mentnor could see the haunting guilt on the major's face as they sat down at a table. As the man of the house he was supposed to protect his children, to take care of them and guide them. Major Charles looked out into the smokey haze around him, instead seeing his boys playing in the yard, flying a kite together.

“What do we do about this boy the panel has abducted, does he have parents looking for him?” Major Charles roused out of his guilty haze.

“The Panel will search for you if you choose to help me, Major, are you certain you want another pursuer?” For his answer Mentnor got a steady gaze and a 'bring it on' smile. “There has to be a distraction in order to rescue the child, in a few days there will be a weather balloon launch, base security will patrol the perimeter extensively. The weather balloon is actually a cover for a Backstep test. It may be the only opportunity available to us to save the child.” For over two hours the pair devised a plan for Major Charles to escape the base with the baby boy. Eventually the bar tender asked them to leave so he could close up.

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NNL Hangar 1300 Hrs February 9

Two MP's followed Jarod and Mentnor around as the younger man worked on the Sphere's fuel system. Miss Parker stayed as close on his heels as she could manage. The hunter wasn't about to let her prey escape again. Jarod could see the frustration in her face; having him so close but not being able to lock him up. What would Miss Parker have done with him if she had been able to box Jarod up and drag him to the Centre? His quest for his parents and Miss Parker's hunt for him were the sole motivation in her life.

“I take it you've known Jarod a long time, Miss Parker.” Dr. Mentnor asked. His grandfatherly demeanor put her in mind of Sydney.

“Yes, since we were children.” She answered, her lips pursed in mild annoyance. The old doctor wondered how she would categorize the relationship she and Jarod shared; perhaps a mix between a brother and a lover? Miss Parker would never tell, Mentnor knew.

“Has he always been so passionate in his hatred for the Centre?” From the corner of his eye, Mentnor saw Sydney edging toward where he and the lady stood.

“Until the last few years Jarod didn't know any other environment but the Centre. Since he found out that his simulations were sold and used against civilians he's been nothing but passionate and my life has been a living hell ever since.” Her frustration crackled like static.

“You don't share Jarod's moral conviction, Miss Parker?” Mentnor adjusted one of the controls, watching the young lady in his peripheral vision.

“No, Jarod is alone in his Superman syndrome.” A smirk pulled one side of Miss Parker's cinnamon lips.

“If he's Superman, then what is his Kryptonite?” Sydney took a turn asking a question. Miss Parker shot him a hateful look. She couldn't answer. Jarod hadn't encountered anything that brought him completely to his knees or stopped him in his tracks. Even after his brother's death, Jarod only mustered his resolve and kept going.

“Even Jarod has his weakness.” Miss Parker answered vaguely. She knew where her defenses were weak- her mother. Catherine Parker's past and even the time she spent with her daughter were a mystery to Miss Parker.

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