Chapter 6 - The Oregon Retrieval
Forty-eight hours later, a private medical transport jet touched down on the tarmac at a small airfield outside Portland, Oregon.
Accompanied by Kenneth Boyd, an official representative from the State Health Department, and a team of specialized embryologists from St. Jude’s Hospital, I walked into the sleek, quiet lobby of the Pacific Northwest Reproductive Center—the satellite facility that Dr. Sterling had operated in secret.
Federal agents had raided the building twenty-four hours prior following the evidence provided in Melinda’s notebook. The facility was under legal quarantine, its primary cryogenic vaults secured under federal court order.
We walked down a long, white corridor into the deep cryogenic storage room. The air was cold, smelling faintly of liquid nitrogen and sterile steel. Dozens of tall, silver cylindrical tanks lined the room, humming with heavy industrial refrigeration units.
The lead embryologist, Dr. Helen Vance (no relation), walked over to Tank 04, holding the serial numbers from Melinda’s notebook against a digital manifest tablet.
"Dr. Vance," Helen called out, gesturing to a silver cylinder in the corner. "Serial numbers match. Tank 04, Rack B, Canister 12."
I stepped up to the tank, my breath forming pale clouds in the cold air.
Helen entered the security override code provided by the court order. The heavy steel lid clicked open with a soft hiss, releasing a plume of white nitrogen vapor into the room. Using specialized long-handled forceps, Helen carefully lifted a small, metallic storage cane from the freezing liquid.
Attached to the cane were two small, clear plastic straws labeled in clear, black ink:
VANCE, KIRSTEN / VANCE, CONNOR - EMBRYO #2 (MALE) VANCE, KIRSTEN / VANCE, CONNOR - EMBRYO #3 (FEMALE)
A boy and a girl.
Two tiny, miraculous lives—frozen in time, forgotten in a secret vault by a man who saw them as nothing more than bargaining chips and financial assets.
Tears welled up in my eyes, but they were tears of pure, overwhelming awe. I reached out with a gloved hand, gently touching the frozen metal cane holding my children.
"We’re taking them home, Dr. Vance," Helen said softly, placing the cane into a temperature-controlled portable transport incubator. "They’re safe now."
Kenneth walked up beside me, laying a warm hand on my shoulder as we watched the transport unit seal shut with a green indicator light.
"Connor thought he was playing god, Kirsten," Kenneth said quietly. "He thought he could control life, control people, and buy his way out of his own brokenness. But he lost everything."
"He didn't just lose, Kenneth," I replied, looking at the incubator. "He built a trap for himself, and he walked right into it."
"What are you going to do with the embryos?" Kenneth asked.
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I turned to look at him, a warm, confident smile spreading across my face—a smile that carried no fear, no regret, and no shame.
"I’m going to bring them home," I said firmly. "I’m going to raise Leo, and when the time is right, I’m going to give him his brother and sister. I’m going to build the real family Connor tried so hard to steal from me."
