Sword of God

26

Yesterday, Kia had warned Payne and Jones about the threat of speeding tickets. Traffic cameras and detection units were spread evenly across Route 12. But on this day it wasn't a concern, not as long as they followed the old man and his truck, which smoked and wheezed more often than a fire-breathing dragon with asthma. It was simply unable to speed.

Jones drove, once again, while Payne studied a road map of the island. Kia hovered over his shoulder, answering questions and explaining the significance of certain areas, including the Jungmun Tourist Complex, which sprawled for several miles along the southwestern coast of Jeju. It featured several dozen attractions-including Cheonjaeyeon Falls, where they had stopped the day before-with Americanized names that he could barely read let alone pronounce.

Yeomiji Botanical Garden was reputed to be the largest in Asia, growing more than 2,000 varieties of tropical and subtropical plants in 150,000 square yards of indoor and outdoor fields, all of it centered around an observation deck that stood more than 125 feet high. Down the road was Jusangjeolli Cliff, a series of 60-foot stone pillars that formed when lava from Mount Halla poured into the raging sea. Jungmun Beach lined the nearby shore, filled with white sand that contrasted sharply with the surrounding black hillside, home to Haesikgul Cave, a natural sea cave featured in dozens of movies because of its scenic beauty.

Unfortunately, none of these sites could be seen from the highway; they were blocked from view by parasitic volcanoes and thick blankets of trees, a surreal mix of pines and palms sprouting up through the black core of the island. Payne followed their progress by watching road signs, tracing their route with his finger, looking for auxiliary routes in case they needed to escape.

They continued their journey along Route 12 until the old man approached the exit for Daeyu Hunting Ground. He eased his truck onto a secondary road and started driving north to the base of Mount Halla, its snowcapped peak rising six thousand feet above the rocky shore.

Jones stared at the mountain and sighed. 'Bet you ten bucks he doesn't make it.'

Payne laughed, even though it contradicted the anxiety he felt for the first time since they'd left the resort. To him, hunting grounds meant guns. Lots of guns. People legally armed, carrying weapons in full view. And there was nothing he could do about it. No time for advanced scouting. No way to secure the perimeter. It was three of them against an entire lodge of potential threats. Never knowing where a fatal shot might come from.

He turned toward Kia. 'What do you know about this place?'

'Not much. I've never been here before.' She flipped through her tour book, hoping to find something useful. 'It says it's the only official hunting range in all of Asia. There's bird hunting, clay shooting, target ranges for pistols and rifles. You can rent guns. And guides. And even bird dogs. Plus there's a breeding farm with more than fifty thousand pheasants.'

'Damn!' Jones said. 'That's a lot of birds.'

'I'm more concerned with the guns.'

'Me, too. But still, that's a lot of birds. I'm talking Hitchcock?

Payne ignored him. 'What kind of restrictions?'

She scanned the information. 'None. It's a private resort. Beginners are welcomed.'

'No licenses or permits?'

'Not according to this.'

'Good.'

'Why's that good?'

Payne smiled. 'Because we don't have any.'

The main facility was straight ahead, at least according to the road sign. But instead of continuing forward, the old man turned onto a narrow dirt path that curved to the right and disappeared into the surrounding trees. The old truck rumbled and shook as it left the pavement, its bald tires struggling for traction in the mud and fallen leaves. Yet the damn thing never stopped. Not once. It just kept chugging along.

As Jones made the turn, Payne rolled down his window and listened to the cacophony of gunshots that filled the air. Rifle blasts to the left. Handguns to the right. All of them too close for comfort. Discreetly, he tilted his side-view mirror and made sure no one had turned in behind them, a sure sign of an upcoming ambush. Thankfully, the path remained clear.

A quarter mile later, a large hunting cabin came into view, nestled among a grove of pines that towered above it. A Korean man dressed in khakis and a plaid shirt stood in the doorway. He smiled and waved at his father, who pulled into the driveway, did a three-point turn, then drove back toward Payne and Jones. They slowed to a stop, expecting the old man to pull alongside of them to deliver further instructions, but the old man just waved and kept going. Late for another day of fishing.

Payne shrugged. 'Guess he was busy.'

'When you're that old, you don't have time to waste,' Jones joked as he backed into a parking spot. Just in case there was trouble. 'How do you want to play this?'

'I'll talk, you snoop. Kia stays near me.'

The three of them exited the SUV and walked onto the front porch, where they were greeted by Chi-Gon Jung, who was in his midforties and spoke perfect English. He was the owner of a hunting and fishing service that worked closely with the resorts on the island, providing tourists with boats, guides, and whatever else they needed. He handled logistics from the cabin, taking advantage of its proximity to Mount Halla and the Daeyu lodge, but mentioned that customers rarely stopped by. This was his personal office, nothing more. Most of his employees were scattered around the island, manning booths in hotel lobbies or guiding tours in the field.

Jung led Payne and Kia inside his spacious cabin, which was decorated with an assortment of mounted animal heads that would have looked at home in any hunting lodge in the States. Meanwhile, Jones opted to stay outdoors, claiming he needed some fresh air after their long drive from the Black Stone. In actuality, he wanted to snoop around and make sure they were alone. To warn them of potential danger. To protect them from interlopers.

'How did you meet Mr. Lee?' Payne asked as he took his seat in front of Jung's desk. 'Was it through your business?'

'Yes,' Jung said with a smile. 'Mr. Lee is a wonderful man who takes care of his guests. We've been helping each other for years. Referring clients and so on.'

'And he called you about me?'

Jung nodded, his grin quickly fading. 'He called me late last night, asking for my help. Hoping I would fax the photo of the Parks to all of my guides. So we could keep an eye out for them in all our locations.' He paused, measuring what he was going to say next. 'But I told him it wasn't necessary. I already knew where they were.'

'You do? How is that possible?'

'They came to me earlier in the week, looking for a guide.'

'A guide? Why did they want a guide?'

'Honestly,' Jung said, 'they wanted to disappear.'

'And you could help them with that?'

There was a long delay. 'Yes.'

Payne nodded, noticing the stress in Jung's face. The tension in his voice. The indecision in his eyes. In a heartbeat he had gone from a cordial host to a nervous one, a metamorphosis that concerned Payne. If Jung got spooked, there was a chance he would lie and give them bad information about the boy. In the long run, that could prove disastrous.

So Payne did what he was trained to do when dealing with an anxious witness. It was a simple trick, but one that worked quite well. He made him feel comfortable by talking about something less threatening. Something to brighten his mood. And in this case, it was the first innocuous thing that popped into Payne's mind. Something he knew would make him laugh.

'Out of curiosity,' Payne asked, 'what's the deal with your father's truck?'

Jung's smile returned. 'He's married to that thing. It's much older than I am.'

'That's what I figured. Honestly, I didn't know what to think when I saw him pull into the Black Stone this morning. Especially after his phone call. That made me so jumpy.'