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."
Payne interrupted. "You mean we watched the executions?"
Sheldon nodded. "We were summoned to South Korea after World War II to help set up a provisional government. Unfortunately, we had no authority to intervene in an internal conflict. All we could do was keep meticulous records and pray the violence stopped on its own."
Payne scowled because he knew that was bullshit. The U.S. military had a long-standing tradition of butting into battles where they didn't belong. Not that he had a problem with that. Sometimes the biggest kid on the block needed to flex his muscles to protect the weakest. Yet for some reason mat wasn't the case on Jeju. The only question was, why?
Jones wondered the same tiling. "What was our real reason for doing nothing?"
Sheldon smiled under his mask. "Take a wild guess."
"Because we had more to gain by staying out of it."
"Such as?"
"Damning information against the new government."
"And why was that important?"
Jones gave it some thought. "Because Jeju is an island in the Korea Strait. The perfect place for Americans to spy on Japan, Russia, China, and North Korea."
Sheldon nodded, then signaled for them to follow him deeper into the cave. "Smugglers used this facility until 1951. That's three years after the revolt started, which goes to show how secret this place actually was. Outside of locals, no one knew about it. Not the police. Not the government. Not even us. At least until much later."
He stopped in front of the first cell and admired its simplicity. Iron bars were anchored in the volcanic rock, creating a series of jail cells that stretched deep into the darkness. "Local villagers were held here by the South Korean government. Young, old, men, women. It didn't matter. Everyone was locked in this cave for weeks. Then, one by one, they were tortured for information about the rebel army that most of them knew nothing about. To this day, the unlucky ones are still buried in the deepest sections of this cave. Hidden behind piles of rock."
Payne hated stories like this-especially ones that happened so long ago-because no matter how good a soldier he was, there was nothing he could do about tragedies from the 1950s. Of course, there was something he could do about the present-that is, if he was given all the facts. Yet for some reason he sensed that Sheldon was hiding something important from them. He wasn't sure what it was, but his patience was wearing thin.
"Not to be rude, but can we fast-forward to recent history?"
Sheldon glanced at Payne. "Of course we can. What would you like to know?"
"Everything you're keeping from us."
The smile faded under his mask, the crinkles disappearing from the corners of his eyes. "Nothing like cutting to the chase."
"Actually, the chase started two days ago, when we first got on a plane. Yet for one reason or another, you've been stonewalling ever since. First by proxy, now in person."
"What do you mean?"
Payne pointed at him. "There you go! A perfect example. Most people respond to questions with answers, not other questions."
"Jon," Jones whispered, trying to calm him down.
But Payne brushed him aside. "Seriously, Doc, it's time for some straight facts. No more history lessons. No more bullshit. Why the hell are we here?"
"To find a missing person. Actually, several missing people."
Payne rolled his hand in front of him, urging Sheldon to go on. "Some names would help."
"Before I continue, I need to give you some more background info on-"
"Holy hell! Give me a fuckin' break!"
"Seriously. This is important information."
Payne shook his head, unwilling to listen further. "D.J., I swear to God, if he starts talking about the Korean War, I'm going to kick him in the balls."
"Jon!" Jones shouted, thankful his mask covered his smile. "Let the guy talk."
"Talk? All he does is talk. Ten minutes ago I asked him about this facility, and he started blabbing about the effects of molten lava…. Seriously, who the hell does that?" He pointed at Sheldon. "Why would you do that? Do I look like I give a damn about molten anything?"
Jones stepped between the two, knowing full well that Payne wasn't really mad or the least bit out of control. But when it came to acquiring information, they realized fear often went a long way toward lessening someone's reluctance to speak-especially someone like Dr. Sheldon, who was holding his cards much tighter than he should have been. Thankfully, when someone as large as Payne started to roar, people usually did whatever they could to calm him down.
This was their version of good cop/bad cop.
They called it Payne in the ass.
"Jon," Jones said, "calm down. Let me talk to him for a minute. Alone."
"Fine! Maybe you two can discuss the history of molten liquor."
Jones rolled his eyes. "It's called malt liquor. And my guess is he doesn't drink Colt .45."
"Okay, Billy D. Discuss whatever you want. But I'm going outside to make a call." He pulled out his cell phone and fiddled with the buttons. "If you learn any news about this century, you know where to find me."
Payne stormed off, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the cave like rolling thunder. Jones waited for the rumble to pass, then apologized for his friend's behavior, blaming it on jet lag and his close connection to Trevor Schmidt.
"You have to understand," Jones said, "Jon is very protective of his proteges. Two days ago Colonel Harrington told us that Trevor was missing and asked for our help, but that's the last we've heard about it. No updates. No progress reports. No nothing. That's tough for us to take."
Sheldon nodded. 'Trust me, I'm empathetic to your situation. I truly am. But there's a reason why I've been rambling on and on about this cave's background and answering all of your questions with questions of my own. I know you think I'm playing games with you, but I swear that's not the case."
"Then what is the case?"
Sheldon fidgeted with his gloves, trying to delay his answer. "Honestly, we've been on Jeju for several days now, and in all that time we've only learned one thing."
"Which is?"
"None of us have any idea what happened here."
11
Payne smiled as he walked outside. The smell of blood still lingered in the air, yet compared to the interior of the cave, he felt like he was standing in a daisy-fresh meadow. His mood brightened further when he scrolled through the picture gallery in his cell phone and saw the clarity of his latest image: Dr. Ernie Sheldon, the unwitting star of a sneak attack.
Laughing to himself, Payne typed an encrypted text message to Randy Raskin, one of his best contacts at the Pentagon, asking him for basic intel on the man in the photo. He gave him Sheldon's name but stressed it might be an alias. At this point it was too early to tell.
After hitting send, he returned his attention to his current surroundings. With a quick glance he scanned the rocky path that sliced through the trees toward the road. No sign of Kia. She'd fled the scene several minutes earlier, but he fully expected to see her sitting there. Her head between her knees. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Several excuses ready to spring from her lips to explain her actions. But none of them was necessary, since it wasn't her fault.