Sword of God(11)

“Good Lord,” Payne said. “What in the world is that smell?”

The driver answered coyly. “It’s the reason you’re here.”





7


Fifteen feet from the cave entrance, each member of Payne’s team was given three things: a surgical mask, surgical gloves, and crime-scene booties to be slipped over their shoes. Yet no instructions or details were provided.

Jones eyed the driver. “Are you worried we’ll contaminate the scene?”

“Just the opposite. We’re worried about the scene getting on you.”

“What does that mean?”

The driver inched backward. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Kia frowned. “You’re not coming with us?”

“Not a chance. I saw it once and that was enough for me.”

Confused, she turned toward Payne. “Sir, what’s going on here? What is this place?”

He shrugged while sliding his mask over his nose and mouth. “We’re about to find out.”

In the summertime the six-foot crack in the stone mountain would have been covered by leaves and vines that dangled from the overhead cliff. Now the only thing protecting it was the team of snipers who hid in the trees. Payne studied the natural opening, looking for clues as to what might lie ahead. The only thing that stood out was the stench that seeped through his mask. It was a smell he recognized, one that foreshadowed a change in their assignment.

This wasn’t going to be a rescue mission. It was something far worse.

Turning on his flashlight, Payne took a few steps inside and let his eyes adjust to the gloom. Jones and Kia followed closely. The breeze that had been prevalent on the outside had relented, replaced by dampness in the air that made the stone floor slick and the walls seep. The year-round temperature in the caves on Jeju was roughly fifty degrees, but the high humidity made it feel colder. Moisture clung to their clothes, their hair, their skin. So did the ghastly stench. It was far worse than a sewer. It was like walking into an autopsy.

Payne focused on Kia. “Are you squeamish? If so, I need to know right now.”

“No, sir. I’m not squeamish. Why?”

“Because this is going to be bad. Worse than anything you’ve seen before.”

Kia grimaced. “How do you know?”

“Experience.”

“You used to investigate crime scenes?”

Jones answered for him. “No, we used to cause them.”

Payne said nothing as he turned from Kia. He knew she was aware of their background with the MANIACs and the types of missions they used to run. Still, for a split second, he was embarrassed. Not for his actions—he was quite proud of his military record—but the way his past had been framed. Kia was a new member of his team, and he didn’t want her to get the wrong impression. He wasn’t a killer or a criminal. He was a soldier. Nothing more, nothing less.

Up ahead a shadow danced on the cave wall. Payne spotted it and headed toward the source of the light. It was a faint glow deep within the bowels of the mountain, yet he knew its intensity would increase tenfold when he reached the scene. Each step brought new sensations that he noted. The rumble of a portable generator. The artificial heat from overhead lights. The echoing drip of seeping liquid. And a stagnant cloud of that god-awful stench. It was inescapable. Unforgettable.

“Don’t touch anything,” he stressed to Kia. “And if you feel nauseous—”

“I won’t feel nauseous.”

Payne stopped and put his hand on her shoulder. “But if you feel nauseous, just leave the scene. Don’t ask for permission. Just go. Get some fresh air, collect your thoughts, whatever you need to do. Just don’t get sick at the scene. That’s very important.”

“I’ll be fine, sir.”

“Thankfully,” Jones joked, “if she does vomit, this place will smell better.”

“I’m not going to vomit,” she insisted. “I’m not the least bit squeamish.”

Payne nodded, hoping she was right. “Well, we’ll find out soon enough.”



Kia lasted less than ten seconds before she bolted toward the entrance. But Payne and Jones didn’t stop her. Or blame her. During their time in the military, they had never witnessed anything like the scene inside the cave. It was beyond gruesome. It was barbaric.

Blood covered everything. The ceiling. The walls. The floors. Crevices in the stone were filled with sticky red puddles. Cracks looked like surging rivers, the liquid flowing from one point to the next, as if the cave had been drenched with a crimson rain, the downpour searching for a way to escape. Only there was nowhere for it to go because the entire chamber was saturated with fluid. Like a giant heart had exploded and coated everything in its wake.