Desmond cried when he read the doctor’s notes. They had expected the infant to die, but at each turn, he had defied the odds. By the time Conner was well enough to leave, Desmond had long since gone to Oklahoma to live with Orville. The doctors called the boy’s uncle, but Orville refused to take Conner. Desmond had no doubt that part of the report was true: the roughneck had been in no shape to take Desmond, even at age five; he couldn’t have cared for an infant.
Conner was remanded to the foster system. Desmond couldn’t imagine what it had been like for Conner growing up, so badly injured—physically and mentally. He imagined the would-be parents touring the facility, gazing upon the young boys and girls they might take home, averting their eyes when they came to Conner.
Desmond was surprised to learn that the boy had been placed with adoptive parents in 1995 at the age of twelve. The records stopped there. Both McClain parents were deceased by 2003. Conner had dropped out of school at age seventeen and was unmarried and lived alone.
There was only one thing left for Desmond to do.
On an overcast day in June of 2003, he parked outside Conner’s apartment building and waited, rehearsing what he would say. That morning, he saw his brother for the first time in twenty years. The sight broke his heart. Not with joy, but with sorrow. Conner McClain had long, grungy hair and wore baggy, dirty clothes. Track marks ran down his right arm. He lit a cigarette and set off on foot for his back-breaking job on the docks.
Sitting in the rental car, watching his younger brother, Desmond’s life changed. From that point forward, he dedicated himself to helping Conner turn his life around. He bought a company in Australia and directed the HR department to hire Conner. He subtly found out the young man’s strengths and weaknesses, and insisted Conner’s supervisor challenge him. He watched him grow over the course of a few years. Conner moved out of the run-down apartment and left drugs behind, but he could never chase away the demons inside of him. He was the shell of the person he wanted to be. Desmond knew that feeling all too well; more than anyone else, he understood exactly how his younger brother felt.
The night when he revealed to Conner who he truly was—that they were brothers—the two of them hugged and promised to never keep another secret from each other. Desmond told him the full truth then, about the Citium, and the Looking Glass, a device that would change the world and allow both of them to be healed, to start over, to literally rewrite the past if they wanted. He saw what he had hoped to see since the moment Conner had walked out of that run-down apartment: true transformation. Hope. Faith. Belief that a happy life was possible for him.
Peyton had been right: Desmond did need someone to save. Helping Conner gave purpose to his life. The Looking Glass took on a whole new meaning for him. It became their project, their obsession. The two brothers, along with Yuri, became the trinity guiding the project, each with their own component: Desmond oversaw the creation of Rendition, Yuri created Rapture, and Conner completed Rook.
And then everything changed. Desmond learned the truth about what Yuri intended to do. He learned about the pandemic, and he was horrified.
But Conner wasn’t; he insisted that it was the only way. He was willing to do anything for the Looking Glass; Desmond wasn’t.
In the conference room on the Kentaro Maru, they fought over it, said things they both regretted. A bridge officer opened the door and informed them that an American expedition had found the Beagle, the Citium research submarine that had conducted advanced research in the early years of the Looking Glass. It was a tomb at the bottom of the ocean that held secrets they wanted to keep buried—secrets that might compromise everything they were doing.
Conner ordered a strike on the American ship. Desmond pleaded for him not to, but it was no use. Conner and Yuri were going forward with the pandemic, and there was nothing Desmond could say to convince them not to. So he created a plan to stop them.
Desmond contacted Garin Meyer, an investigative journalist in Berlin who had unknowingly stumbled upon the Citium conspiracy. Desmond tried and failed to expose the Citium before the pandemic began, but Conner and Yuri acted too quickly.
Yet Desmond had also created a backup plan: hiding Rendition and erasing his own memories. In doing so, he prevented Conner and Yuri from completing the Looking Glass and ensured they couldn’t kill him. He hid clues to himself in the hotel room in Berlin and in the Labyrinth Reality app. His backup plan had led him to Peyton; to William; and now here, to the Isle. Behind him, Avery held the tablet with the list of sites with the cure. If they could transmit the data to Rubicon, the information could save countless lives.
Desmond saw the same thing on Conner’s face that he had seen there a week ago, in the holding cell on the Kentaro Maru: hurt. Desmond understood now. His betrayal had wounded Conner in a way the man had never thought possible.
Desmond expected Conner to threaten him, but he didn’t. His tone was soft, pleading.
“Please, Des. End this. We’ll forget about it.”
“You know we can’t.”
“We’ve won, brother. The world is ours. The Looking Glass will be completed within days. We’ve done it. The hard part’s over. Please, Desmond. Please.”
His little brother needed him. In some ways, the fire that had almost claimed Conner’s life had never stopped hurting him. But now his pain could end. The Looking Glass could save him. And Desmond alone held the key to the final piece: Rendition. With it, he held the power to heal his brother.
Soldiers peeked around the door frame behind Conner and trained rifles on Desmond and Avery, the red dots moving over their bodies like crawling insects.
Avery leaned forward, hiding her head behind Desmond.
Her voice was a very nervous whisper. “What are you thinking here, Des?”
Chapter 122