Chapter 12 - THE WOMAN WHO CALLED HERSELF MY MOTHER
The woman in the security footage was not old enough to be my mother.
That should have made the message meaningless.
It didn’t.
Nothing in my life was meaningless anymore.
Not names.
Not birth certificates.
Not coffins.
Not DNA.
Especially not people who were supposed to be dead.
Elena replayed the footage.
“Your mother is alive.”
Again.
“And if Jonathan Vale finds her before you do, she won’t be for long.”
Caleb stood behind us.
“So who is she talking about?”
“Rebecca.”
I answered.
“But Richard said that isn’t Rebecca.”
Elena nodded.
“The woman used Rebecca Shaw’s identity when I investigated her disappearance.”
“Why?”
“No idea.”
Marcus entered with another folder.
“We have more.”
I looked at him.
“What now?”
“The hospital pulled Colonel Ward’s personal effects.”
“And?”
“He had this taped inside his wallet.”
A photograph.
Two women.
One was the woman from the security footage.
The other was older.
Maybe late fifties.
Same dark eyes.
Same narrow face.
On the back, Ward had written:
REBECCA SHAW / SARAH SHAW.
I looked at Elena.
“Sisters?”
“Could be.”
Marcus handed us a second item.
A handwritten address.
No city.
Just coordinates.
Elena entered them.
A map appeared.
Remote property.
Two hours east.
Mountain road.
Registered owner?
Northstar Strategic Research.
My stomach tightened.
“We go.”
Emily entered carrying Thomas.
“No.”
I stared at her.
“No?”
“You haven’t slept.”
“Neither have you.”
“You’ve been drugged, shot at, gassed, and lied to for twelve hours.”
“I wasn’t shot.”
“Details.”
I almost smiled.
Then she stepped closer.
“Daniel.”
Her voice softened.
“You’re starting to move faster than you’re thinking.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“That’s what you said before the cabin.”
She was right.
Again.
I hated how often that happened.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Eat.”
I stared.
“What?”
“Food.”
“Remember it?”
“Emily.”
“Ten minutes.”
“Then you can go chase another dead relative.”
Caleb laughed.
I looked at him.
“Something funny?”
“A little.”
Emily handed Thomas to me.
The argument ended.
Thomas opened his eyes.
I looked down at him.
My son.
No experiment.
No dataset.
No cohort.
Just Thomas.
He yawned.
I kissed his forehead.
“Ten minutes.”
Emily nodded.
“Good.”
We ate vending-machine sandwiches in a police conference room.
Worst meal of my life.
Best ten minutes of the night.
Then we moved.
Emily stayed with Thomas under protection.
Caleb stayed too.
He didn’t argue.
The unidentified baby had become attached to him.
Or maybe Caleb had become attached to the baby.
Either way, he wasn’t leaving.
Elena came with me.
Marcus drove.
Richard insisted on coming.
“No.”
I said it immediately.
“You need me.”
“For what?”
“I know Northstar facilities.”
“You haven’t seen one in seven years.”
“I designed some of them.”
I stared.
“You what?”
“Before I understood the program.”
That sentence again.
Before I understood.
Everyone had participated before they understood.
Then stayed after they did.
“You come.”
I said.
“But one lie and you’re done.”
Richard nodded.
The mountain property looked like an abandoned research station.
Concrete.
Steel.
No signs.
No visible vehicles.
We approached at 11:18 a.m.
State tactical units covered the perimeter.
The front door was unlocked.
That bothered me.
Inside, dust covered everything.
Except the floor.
Fresh footprints.
Two people.
Maybe three.
Elena crouched.
“One heavy.”
“One lighter.”
“Third?”
“Possible.”
We followed.
Down a corridor.
Laboratory rooms.
Empty.
Then music.
Soft.
Classical.
Coming from somewhere below.
Richard froze.
“What?”
“He always played Bach.”
“Vale?”
“Yes.”
My skin crawled.
We found stairs.
Descending.
At the bottom was a living space.
Not laboratory.
Home.
Kitchen.
Books.
Couch.
Photographs.
One photograph stopped me.
Me.
Age five.
Birthday cake.
Margaret beside me.
Richard behind me.
And in the background, through the window, a woman stood outside.
Watching.
I picked up the photograph.
Richard looked.
“Rebecca.”
My chest tightened.
“She was there?”
“I never saw this.”
Another photograph.
My high school graduation.
Same woman.
Older.
Standing near the parking lot.
Another.
Basic training graduation.
Same woman.
Far behind the crowd.
Another.
My wedding.
Emily and me leaving the church.
The woman stood across the street.
My biological mother had been watching my entire life.
A voice came from behind us.
“You look like her when you’re angry.”
I turned.
The woman from Ward’s photograph stood in the doorway.
Older one.
Rebecca.
Gun in her hand.
Elena raised hers.
Rebecca smiled.
“Elena Vasquez.”
“You know me?”
“I knew your mother.”
Elena’s expression hardened.
“Put the gun down.”
Rebecca looked at me.
“Daniel.”
My body wouldn’t move.
She studied my face.
Tears filled her eyes.
“My boy.”
I felt nothing.
Then too much.
“You don’t get to call me that.”
She nodded.
“I know.”
“Put the weapon down.”
She did.
Slowly.
Elena kicked it away.
I stared at Rebecca.
“Are you my mother?”
“Yes.”
“DNA?”
“I have records.”
“Records lie.”
A sad smile.
“You learned quickly.”
“DNA.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll give you whatever you need.”
“Why did you leave me?”
Her face broke.
“I didn’t.”
Of course.
Nobody abandoned anyone in this story.
Everyone had been told someone else was dead.
“What happened?”
“Vale took you.”
“Richard raised me.”
“Vale placed you with Richard and Margaret.”
“Why?”
“Because Richard was your father.”
I looked at him.
He looked devastated.
Rebecca continued.
“I tried to get you back.”
“Mercer stopped me.”
“How?”
“He arrested me.”
“For what?”
“Kidnapping my own child.”
“Vale had records saying Margaret was your biological mother.”
“I had nothing.”
“No money.”
“No lawyer.”
“No proof.”
“What happened?”
“They put me in a psychiatric hospital.”
My stomach turned.
“For how long?”
“Eleven years.”
Elena whispered.
“Jesus.”
Rebecca nodded.
“When I got out, you were twelve.”
“Why didn’t you come for me then?”
“I did.”
Richard looked up.
“What?”
Rebecca stared at him.
“You remember the woman outside Daniel’s school?”
His face changed.
“You.”
“Yes.”
“You told me you were a reporter.”
“I knew if I told you who I was, you would call Mercer.”
Richard looked ashamed.
“She was right.”
Rebecca continued.
“I watched.”
“I waited.”
“I gathered evidence.”
“Then Vale found me again.”
“What did he do?”
“I disappeared before he could take me.”
“You left me again.”
“I stayed close.”
She pointed to the photographs.
“I watched every milestone I could.”
“That isn’t being a mother.”
The words hurt her.
I meant them to.
“No.”
She whispered.
“It isn’t.”
“Why Ward?”
“He found me.”
“When?”
“Eight years ago.”
“He was investigating Northstar.”
“Did he know who I was?”
“Yes.”
My anger returned.
“Ward knew?”
“Yes.”
“He looked me in the face every day.”
“He ordered me into combat.”
“He knew my mother was alive?”
“He was trying to protect you.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Everybody protects me by lying.”
Rebecca looked down.
“You’re right.”
The simplicity of it stopped me.
No excuse.
No justification.
Just right.
Elena asked.
“Who was the woman using your identity?”
Rebecca’s face hardened.
“Sarah.”
“Your sister?”
“Yes.”
“Why did she use your name?”
“She was trying to reach Ward.”
“Why?”
“Because she infiltrated Vale’s second program.”
Richard stepped forward.
“What second program?”
Rebecca looked at him.
“The one you never knew about.”
“Children weren’t the final stage.”
“What was?”
“Institutions.”
Elena frowned.
“Explain.”
“Vale stopped trying to shape individual children.”
“He started placing people around them.”
“Teachers.”
“Recruiters.”
“Commanders.”
“Employers.”
“Spouses?”
I asked.
Rebecca looked at me.
“He tried.”
I thought of Elena.
Our engineered assignment.
Then Emily.
“Was Emily planned?”
“No.”
Relief hit harder than expected.
Rebecca smiled faintly.
“Emily was the mistake Vale couldn’t control.”
I almost smiled too.
That sounded like my wife.
“What does Vale want now?”
“Thomas.”
“Why?”
“Not for genetics.”
“Then why?”
“Because you chose him over the experiment.”
I frowned.
“That makes no sense.”
“To Vale it does.”
Rebecca stepped closer.
“He has spent decades proving environment can manipulate loyalty.”
“You proved something he hates.”
“What?”
“That attachment can override conditioning.”
I stared.
“He wants to understand why.”
“He can wonder from prison.”
Rebecca shook her head.
“He won’t go to prison.”
“Why?”
“Because he has an exit plan.”
“Where?”
Before she answered, a shot cracked.
Rebecca jerked.
Blood appeared on her shoulder.
I caught her.
“DOWN!”
Elena fired toward the upper walkway.
A figure ran.
Sarah.
The younger woman.
“Sarah!”
Rebecca shouted.
Her sister stopped.
Turned.
Gun raised.
Then another shot came from behind her.
Sarah fell.
A man stepped from the shadows.
Old.
Tall despite his age.
White hair.
Jonathan Vale.
He held a pistol.
May you like
And smiled at me.
“Finally.”
