Chapter 12 - The Elevator Going Down
Garrison stared at the empty operating room.
"Where is she?"
Voss pointed toward the service corridor.
"They took her."
"Who?"
"Two men. Hospital transport uniforms."
Ross arrived.
"Security footage shows them entering a restricted elevator."
"Which floor?"
Ross looked at the panel.
"Sublevel four."
Garrison froze.
"There is no sublevel four."
"There is tonight."
The elevator descended.
B1.
B2.
B3.
Then continued.
Garrison's face turned white.
Blackwood Memorial had been built over an older research facility.
One his father had supposedly demolished.
The doors opened into a concrete corridor lined with obsolete laboratory symbols.
Two intersecting circles.
Conrad had preserved the original project beneath Garrison's own hospital.
Emily woke strapped to a medical bed.
Her contractions were less than two minutes apart.
Conrad Blackwood stood nearby.
He resembled Garrison enough to be unsettling.
Same silver hair.
Same height.
Different eyes.
Cold.
Observant.
"Emily."
She pulled against the straps.
"Go to hell."
Conrad smiled.
"You sound like Evelyn."
"My great-grandmother?"
"She was difficult too."
Another contraction tore through Emily.
She cried out.
Conrad checked a monitor.
"Your children are almost ready."
"They are not yours."
"Biologically, no."
"Then why?"
"Because blood is only useful when properly placed."
Emily spat toward him.
It struck his tuxedo sleeve.
Conrad looked down.
Then laughed.
"I understand why Julian failed to control you."
"Julian couldn't control a houseplant."
Conrad pulled a chair beside her.
"He did quite well for many years."
"You murdered my babies."
"Julian handled those pregnancies."
"You ordered them."
"I authorized corrections."
Emily's eyes filled with fury.
"They were children."
"They were genetic dead ends."
"You don't deserve to breathe the same air they did."
Conrad's smile disappeared.
"You are alive because I permitted it."
"No."
Emily looked toward the door.
"I am alive because men like you always mistake patience for weakness."
Conrad leaned closer.
"No one knows you're here."
A voice answered from the corridor.
"I do."
Conrad turned.
Chloe stood in the doorway holding a security officer's gun.
Her hands trembled violently.
Emily stared.
"Chloe?"
Conrad remained calm.
"You don't know how to use that."
"I don't need to."
"Put it down."
"Where is my daughter?"
Conrad tilted his head.
"Rebecca's daughter."
Chloe's face collapsed.
"She grew inside me."
"Incubators also hold children. We do not call them mothers."
Emily shouted, "Chloe, don't listen to him."
Conrad stepped toward her.
Chloe raised the gun.
"Stop."
He continued.
She fired.
The bullet struck the wall.
Conrad lunged.
Emily pulled violently against one restraint.
The weakened buckle snapped.
She grabbed a metal instrument tray and hurled it.
It struck Conrad's shoulder.
Chloe ran.
Conrad caught her gown.
Fabric tore.
Then Garrison entered.
The brothers faced one another across the laboratory.
For thirty-one years, secrets had separated them.
Now there was nowhere left to hide.
Garrison looked at Emily.
"Are you hurt?"
"Get me out."
Conrad laughed.
"You always choose strangers over blood."
Garrison turned.
"Emily is blood."
Conrad's expression changed.
"So you know."
"I know enough."
"No, brother."
Conrad stepped backward toward a computer terminal.
"You know what I allowed you to find."
Garrison's eyes narrowed.
"What does that mean?"
Conrad pressed one key.
Screens across the laboratory illuminated.
Dozens of names appeared.
Photographs.
Children.
Adults.
Locations.
Emily stared.
One image showed Julian.
Another showed Rebecca.
Another showed Emily as a child.
And another showed Garrison himself.
Under his photograph was a code.
B-17.
Emily stopped breathing.
"Garrison."
He looked at the screen.
Conrad smiled.
"Did you truly think you were the donor?"
Garrison stared.
May you like
"What are you saying?"
Conrad whispered, "You were the experiment."
