Chapter 9 - THE MAN WHO CREATED US
I wanted the screen to be fake.
A trick.
A photograph altered to break me.
But Richard’s face told me otherwise.
“You knew.”
He shook his head.
“Not until later.”
“How much later?”
“Years.”
“How many?”
“Daniel.”
“How many?”
“Twelve.”
I laughed once.
“You learned when I was twelve years old that I wasn’t your biological son.”
“Yes.”
“And said nothing.”
“I was your father.”
“You were also financing the man who created me.”
Richard flinched.
“That’s not how it happened.”
“Then explain it.”
“We couldn’t have children.”
I looked at him.
“Mom and you?”
“Yes.”
“Margaret had multiple miscarriages.”
“We went to Vale.”
“He offered experimental treatment.”
“Using donor material?”
“That’s what we believed.”
“But it was his.”
Richard looked down.
“Yes.”
I felt dirty.
Not because of my biology.
Because someone had decided my existence in a laboratory without consent.
“Did Margaret know?”
“Not initially.”
“When did she find out?”
“Before you were five.”
“And she stayed?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she loved you.”
I stared at him.
“Don’t use that word tonight.”
He fell silent.
Emily touched my arm.
I looked at her.
Thomas.
Focus.
I turned to Elena.
“We go in.”
Tactical officers entered through the maternity wing.
I went with them despite Elena’s argument.
Emily argued harder.
Eventually Elena compromised.
I stayed behind the first team.
Caleb came too.
The old chapel smelled like dust.
Broken pews.
Faded stained glass.
Behind the altar, a door led downward.
Code.
My birthday.
Green light.
Click.
The stairwell descended.
Level one.
Storage.
Level two.
Medical.
The difference was immediate.
Clean walls.
Bright lights.
Air conditioning.
The facility beneath the abandoned clinic was fully operational.
We passed locked rooms.
Laboratory equipment.
Cryogenic storage.
Computers.
Thousands of labeled files.
Then we found photographs.
Children.
Hundreds.
School pictures.
Graduations.
Military portraits.
Wedding photographs.
My photograph was there.
Basic training.
Afghanistan.
My wedding.
Emily’s pregnancy announcement.
Someone had watched me for decades.
Caleb found his own board.
College.
First job.
Traffic arrest.
A photograph of him sleeping in a hospital after a motorcycle crash.
He stared.
“They were everywhere.”
Richard’s words came back.
Vale built systems.
People protected him without understanding what they protected.
We moved deeper.
Then a baby cried.
Emily heard it through the radio from outside.
“Daniel!”
“I hear him.”
I ran toward the sound.
Elena grabbed my vest.
“Slow.”
“That’s Thomas.”
“Could be bait.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
She moved ahead.
Door.
Room 214.
Locked.
Tactical officer opened it.
Empty crib.
Speaker beneath the mattress.
Recorded crying.
I wanted to smash it.
Then the lights shut off.
Emergency red illuminated the corridor.
A voice came over the intercom.
“Daniel.”
Vale.
“Your pulse is approximately one hundred forty.”
I stared at the camera.
“Come out.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to see what kind of man hides behind babies.”
He laughed.
“Provocation.”
“What?”
“Interesting.”
“Daniel.”
Elena warned.
Richard had told me.
Don’t answer questions.
Vale was testing.
I shut my mouth.
“Good.”
Vale sounded pleased.
“You learn quickly.”
Caleb raised his middle finger toward the camera.
“Measure that.”
For the first time all night, I almost laughed.
Vale did not.
“Caleb.”
His voice changed.
“Your impulsivity remains disappointing.”
Caleb stared.
“You don’t get to be disappointed in me.”
“I am your father.”
“No.”
“You are genetically—”
“No.”
Caleb stepped toward the camera.
“A father changes diapers.”
“A father teaches you to ride a bike.”
“A father shows up when you’re scared.”
“You’re a man whose DNA ended up in a room where it had no right to be.”
He looked directly into the lens.
“That’s all.”
Silence.
Vale’s voice returned colder.
“Your emotional dependency on Daniel remains unusually high.”
Caleb smiled.
“Yeah.”
“He’s my brother.”
I looked at him.
Something tightened in my throat.
The lights came back.
A door at the end of the corridor unlocked.
Click.
Elena stared.
“He wants us going that direction.”
“Then that’s where Thomas is.”
“Or where he wants us trapped.”
“Same destination for now.”
We moved.
Room after room.
Then we reached a nursery.
Six bassinets.
Five empty.
One occupied.
My heart stopped.
Baby.
Blue blanket.
I ran forward.
Elena stopped me.
“Wait.”
She checked the room.
No wires.
No obvious devices.
I approached.
The baby slept.
Dark hair.
Tiny nose.
I pulled the blanket back.
Left shoulder.
Red birthmark.
Star-shaped.
My knees nearly failed.
“Thomas.”
I lifted him.
He woke.
Cried once.
Then his tiny hand closed around my finger.
Exactly as Emily described.
I broke.
“Hey, buddy.”
Tears blurred my vision.
“I found you.”
I pressed my forehead to his.
“I found you.”
Emily’s voice came through Elena’s radio.
“Is it him?”
I couldn’t speak.
Elena answered.
“Birthmark confirmed.”
Emily sobbed through the radio.
“Bring him to me.”
“We’re coming.”
Then the nursery door slammed shut.
Locks engaged.
Gas began hissing from the vents.
Again.
Elena swore.
“Not this time.”
She shot the electronic lock.
Nothing.
Caleb grabbed a chair.
Hit the glass.
Reinforced.
Thomas began crying.
I covered his face with my shirt.
“Vale!”
His voice came through the speaker.
“Now we measure paternal sacrifice.”
I looked at the camera.
“You want me?”
“Yes.”
“Open the door.”
“Put Thomas back.”
“No.”
“Put him in the crib.”
“No.”
“Daniel.”
“No.”
“Your oxygen will become insufficient within approximately four minutes.”
I looked at Elena.
She shook her head.
“Could be bluffing.”
I was already getting dizzy.
Not bluffing.
Vale continued.
“There is an oxygen supply beneath the crib.”
“For one.”
I stared.
One mask.
One person.
He wanted to see who used it.
Me.
Caleb.
Elena.
Or Thomas.
I pulled the mask free.
Placed it near Thomas’s face.
Vale laughed softly.
“Predictable.”
I looked at Caleb.
He understood.
“Camera.”
Elena understood too.
We had been thinking like prisoners.
Vale needed to observe.
Which meant cameras.
Which meant wiring.
Elena followed the camera cable into the wall.
“Behind that panel.”
Caleb ripped it open.
Electrical conduit.
Vent control.
Elena pulled a connector.
The gas stopped.
Vale’s voice disappeared.
Then an alarm sounded.
Facility lockdown.
Caleb grinned.
“Disappointing enough for you?”
We broke the door mechanism from inside.
The corridor beyond was empty.
But somewhere deeper in the facility, doors began opening.
People were running.
Elena’s radio came alive.
“Movement at west exit.”
“Multiple suspects.”
Then another voice.
“We have a vehicle leaving underground garage.”
I looked at Thomas.
“Vale.”
We ran.
The underground garage door was closing.
A black SUV disappeared up the ramp.
Elena radioed the perimeter.
“Stop that vehicle.”
No response.
Then static.
Something had disabled communications.
We reached the surface.
The SUV was gone.
Emily ran toward me.
Paramedics shouted at her.
She ignored them.
I placed Thomas in her arms.
She collapsed against me.
“My baby.”
She kissed his forehead.
His cheeks.
His tiny hands.
“I’m here.”
She sobbed.
“Mommy’s here.”
I wrapped both of them in my arms.
For several seconds, nothing else existed.
Then Elena approached.
Her expression ruined the moment.
“What?”
She held up a tablet recovered from the nursery.
“One file was left open.”
“What file?”
“Thomas.”
My chest tightened.
“What about him?”
She turned the screen.
DNA profile.
Maternal markers.
Paternal markers.
Emily read first.
Her face went blank.
“No.”
I looked.
PATERNAL SOURCE: D. HALE.
Me.
99.99%.
Relief hit.
Thomas was biologically mine.
Then I saw the next line.
MATERNAL SOURCE: R.M.
Not Emily.
My stomach dropped.
“What does R.M. mean?”
Nobody answered.
Caleb looked toward Rachel’s photograph on Elena’s laptop.
“Rachel Mercer.”
Emily stared at Thomas.
“No.”
“That’s impossible.”
Rachel had been in her fifties.
But stored genetic material could last decades.
Elena scrolled.
An egg retrieval record.
Rachel Mercer.
Frozen oocytes.
Stored without documented consent.
Emily whispered.
“They implanted her egg.”
“Fertilized with Daniel’s sample.”
I felt sick.
Thomas was my biological son.
But Rachel was his biological mother.
Caleb’s mother.
And possibly mine.
Then another result appeared.
RELATIONSHIP ANALYSIS.
THOMAS HALE / CALEB HALE.
ESTIMATED RELATIONSHIP: HALF-UNCLE.
Caleb stared.
“If Rachel is my mother…”
He looked at me.
“And Thomas’s biological mother…”
“He’s my half-brother.”
Emily whispered.
“And your son.”
The relationships had become grotesquely tangled.
Then Elena scrolled farther.
A second relationship result.
DANIEL HALE / RACHEL MERCER.
PROBABILITY OF MATERNAL RELATIONSHIP: 0%.
I froze.
Rachel wasn’t my mother.
Which meant Subject R-12 had nothing to do with her.
Vale was apparently my biological father.
But my biological mother remained unknown.
A final field appeared.
MATERNAL SOURCE: E.V.
Elena went completely still.
I noticed.
“What?”
She didn’t answer.
“Elena.”
Her face had gone pale.
“What does E.V. mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“You reacted.”
“No.”
“You did.”
Caleb looked at her.
“Elena.”
She stared at the screen.
May you like
Then whispered.
“My mother’s name was Eva Vasquez.”
