A generator purred in the gloom while Jones tried to grasp what he saw. The first image that leaped to mind was the interior of an anaconda. Recognized as the largest snake in the world, it often bit its prey with its sharp teeth before squeezing it to death with its muscular coils. Afterward it swallowed its meal whole, sometimes unhinging its own jaw to engulf the entire carcass. Larger victims, such as sheep or deer, could often be seen through the snake’s flesh, slowly dissolving inside.
In Jones’s mind, he had just walked through the mouth, a gruesome cavity filled with blood and gore. Now he was staring at the belly, the place where the bodies were disposed.
The cave stretched farther than his eyes could see, fading to black somewhere in the depths of the mountain. Thick metal bars were anchored at irregular intervals on each side of the expanse, makeshift cages that were part man-made, part geology. Computer lights blinked in the distance, the glow of technology in an otherwise archaic world.
To him, none of it made any sense.
Like pieces from several jigsaw puzzles all mixed together.
Payne noticed the confusion on Jones’s face and came forward to investigate. Seconds later, he was just as bewildered. “What is this place?”
“I have no idea.”
Dr. Sheldon heard the comment and asked, “Have either of you heard of Roh Tae-woo, the former president of South Korea? In the early nineties, a large cave was discovered on Jeju that housed the remains of several islanders slaughtered just after World War II. Instead of announcing the discovery to the world, Roh sealed the cave, hoping to keep it quiet. Eventually word of his cover-up was unearthed and he was imprisoned for his actions.”
Jones considered the information. “And this is his cave?”
“No. That cave is on Mount Halla. This cave is still a secret.”
“Whose secret?”
“Ahhh, now we’re getting somewhere. Whose secret indeed?!”
Sheldon squeezed past the duo and walked toward the small table that sat in a natural nook along the right-hand wall. He clicked on a desk lamp and rummaged through a large stack of folders. Each of them classified. Each of them critical. Yet in his mind there was no need for a locked safe, since the front door was being guarded by snipers.
“Here you go,” Sheldon said. “Who wants to read it first?”
Jones took the file while Payne held the flashlight. No arguing. No bickering. No ego of any kind. Both men knew mat Jones was better at analyzing information. It was his specialty. He had an innate ability to spot important facts and incongruities faster than anyone Payne had ever met. So Payne did the smart thing and let Jones decipher the data.
According to the folder, they were standing in a lava tube that was discovered by locals in 1824. It measured 1.2 miles in length. Parts of it were narrow, less than 4 feet wide, while other sections were spacious. One gallery soared to more than 22 feet in height and was originally used as storage space for smugglers, who valued the constant cool temperature and natural protection of the black stone. Decades ago smuggling was the main source of income on the island, so the exact location of the cave was a fiercely guarded secret. Villagers protected it with their lives and were rewarded for their efforts.
Unfortunately, their loyalty was used against them in the aftermath of World War II.
In an attempt to establish control on Jeju, the South Korean government labeled everyone who was associated with smuggling as Communists and demanded their capture. This set off a chain of events that led to the bloodiest event in the island’s history: the Jeju Massacre.
On April 3,1948, rebels from Jeju’s “people’s army” attacked police stations and government offices on Jeju, causing the death of an estimated fifty people while freeing many islanders who they felt had been wrongly accused. They kept control of the island until June 25, when the South Korean government invaded from the mainland and overwhelmed Jeju forces. Thousands of islanders were detained and sorted into four groups (labeled A, B, C, and D), based on their supposed security risk. Unfortunately, the South Korean Navy realized they didn’t have the manpower to guard that many people in captivity. So they did the unthinkable. Instead of letting people go, they ordered the local police to execute everyone in groups C and D.
No trials. No appeals. Just bloodshed.
Thousands of innocents were slaughtered. Bodies were stacked in the streets.
Yet this brutality didn’t stop the rebellion. Over the next six years, a reported eighty thousand islanders were killed— nearly a quarter of Jeju’s population.
Jones glanced up from the file. “How accurate are these numbers?”
“Very,” Sheldon answered. “They’re based on firsthand accounts of American troops.”