Sword of God

'Sorry, but I didn't get that sense in Pittsburgh. He seemed pretty perceptive.'

'Fine. Then maybe it's something else.'

'Like what?'

Jones paused, trying to think of an alternative. 'Maybe he's in the dark, too.'

'In what sense?'

'Well, we used to run black ops. How often did we report to our superiors?'

Payne smiled. 'Not as often as we were supposed to.'

'Exactly! So maybe the same thing happened here.

Maybe Schmidt followed our example and failed to tell his boss what was going on. Days go by and Harrington finally sends someone to check up on him. And when he got there, he found the cave covered in blood.'

'You know, that's not half bad.'

Jones nodded, impressed with his own theory. 'Actually, it would explain a lot. Early on I asked Harrington when Schmidt was last seen, and he said he didn't know. Then I asked him where, and he didn't know that either. That sounds like a soldier who didn't report very often. Just like us back in the day.'

'Which might explain Harrington's comment about the MANIACs. He said we were being brought in because we thought differently than normal soldiers. He must've figured we'd be able to piece together Schmidt's final mission, maybe shed some light on what happened here.'

'If that's the case,' Jones added, 'he probably didn't know Schmidt was dead until he got the blood results. For all we know, he might've thought this was actually a rescue mission. Just like he told us in the very beginning.'

'Crap!' Payne said. 'Maybe I pegged the guy wrong.'

Suddenly confused, he walked out of the bedroom and went straight to the small kitchen, where a small basket of tangerines sat in the corner, adorned with a sign that said Grown Fresh on Jeju. Payne grabbed two and tossed one to Jones, who caught it like a wide receiver. Whenever Payne got hungry, he found it difficult to think clearly. And right now, he was famished, his stomach grumbling like a bad muffler.

Payne started peeling his fruit. 'So what you're telling me is that Harrington might not be messing with us?'

'Maybe not.' Jones took a bite and quickly regretted it, realizing that toothpaste and tangerine didn't mix. 'He still should've told us about the Arabic. If he felt it was an important skill for our translator, we should've known about it.'

'Agreed.'

.lust then the electric lock on the suite started to beep. Someone was entering.

Most likely Kia and Mr. Lee.

'Speak of the devil,' Jones said as he lowered his voice to a whisper. 'If you don't mind, I'll let you handle Mr. Lee. He wants to kiss your ass, not mine.'

Payne walked into the kitchen and rinsed the tangerine pulp from his fingers, realizing that nothing ruined a meeting quicker than a sticky handshake. Kia walked in first, followed by Mr. Lee, who glanced around the suite, making sure everything met his high standards. He said a quick hello to Jones before he spotted Payne in the kitchen. 'Good evening, Mr. Lee. Would you like a drink? I make a mean glass of water.'

The smile on Mr. Lee's face grew wider than normal, honored that Payne had remembered his name and respected him enough to offer him a beverage. He politely declined, then walked over to the couches where he stood patiently until everyone was ready to be seated. Payne and Kia sat on one couch, he and Jones on the other.

Payne said, 'I know you're a busy man, so I'd like to thank you for coming here on such short notice. All of us appreciate your time.'

Mr. Lee bowed slightly, his way of showing respect.

'The three of us came to Jeju on a personal quest, one that's left us puzzled. We are searching for a boy who lives in a tiny village near the base of Mount Halla. We found his home with little difficulty, yet he wasn't there. One of his neighbors heard the young boy speak of the Black Stone on the day that he disappeared with his father. However, the opulence of your resort leads us to believe that he was mistaken. These are poor people with limited means.'

Jones handed Mr. Lee the photograph of Yong-Su Park and his father, Chung-Ho. He studied their faces but recognized neither.

'None of us are experts on Jeju or its customs. Therefore, we're hesitant to take our search public, afraid mat our questions might be perceived as a nuisance. Kia can speak the language-she was actually born in South Korea- but we need some guidance with our journey.'

Mr. Lee nodded, grasping the situation. 'I would be honored to help you with your quest… If it's appropriate, may I ask a question?'

'Of course,' Payne said. 'Ask whatever you'd like.'

'I would imagine a man of your stature is here on a fruitful mission, one that would bring no harm to the father or son.'

Payne met his gaze, assuring him of his decency. 'We are here to help, not harm.'

'Yet you're unwilling to involve the authorities?'

'At this point, we think the Parks are hiding from the authorities.'

Mr. Lee frowned at the mention of their name. 'Their name is Park?'

Payne nodded. 'Is that a problem?'

'Possibly. Ten percent of all South Koreans are named Park.'

'Really?' Jones blurted. 'That's a lot of Parks.'

'Still, it could have been worse. Twenty percent of us are named Kim.'

Payne laughed at the comment, glad that Mr. Lee was an optimist. 'If you'd like, we'd be happy to write down everything we have. Names, addresses, and everything else we can think of. Plus you're welcome to make a photocopy of their picture if you think it would help.'

Mr. Lee stood and gave him a slight bow. 'I shall do it at once.'

'And if there's any expense to you-'

He held up his hand to cut him off. 'There will be no expense. I am honored to help.'

'Are you sure? Because-'

'Yes,' he said firmly. 'I am sure.'

Then, before Payne could say another word, Mr. Lee took the photograph and hustled out of the suite-the safety of the father and son suddenly in his hands.

24

Sunday, December 31

Early in Payne's military career, these were the moments that drove him crazy. Not the training or the long hours or the constant threat of dying, but the waiting. The time during missions when all he could do was sit on his ass and stare at his watch. It contradicted everything he believed in.

Payne's grandfather was the hardest-working man he had ever met, someone who used to work double shifts in the steel mills of Pittsburgh, trying to earn enough money to open his own business and give his family the chance of a better life. Then, once his small investment paid off and Payne Industries blossomed into one of the biggest names in the world of manufacturing, he still set his alarm clock for 4:00 a.m. because there was no way in hell he was ever going to be outworked by anyone. In his mind, laziness was a mortal sin.

Growing up, that's the work ethic that was instilled in Payne. The creed he lived by. It enabled him to become a top student, a better athlete, and one of the best soldiers in the world. Yet the reality of military life was nothing like the movies or the recruiting commercials he saw on TV- especially the one that bragged, We do more before 6:00 a.m. than most people do all day. Payne liked to joke that was true but only because they spent all night drinking and beating off.

Eventually, once he was given his own command, he started to view things differently. That's when he realized how much time and preparation went into a mission. How long it took to acquire foreign intelligence. To