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“These guys aren’t hacks,” frowned Cam. “They’re professionals. What do we have back on the dead guy?”
“I’m working on it. Coroner found an implant at the base of the brain. Whoever was on the other end of the phone had a neural trigger. When they depressed it while on the phone with the individual, it sent electrical impulses into the brain, causing massive hemorrhaging. Poor bastard was in a shit-ton of pain when it was happening.”
“This shit is sophisticated,” frowned Luke. “We’ve got guys with incredible fighting ability, stealth capabilities, advanced trackers, and now this. What about ID? Did we get facial recognition?”
“It’s going to take us a while. The impulses cause the nerves of the face and neck to contort, forcing the victim’s face into a mask of pain and disfigurement. We’re working on it. That’s all we can say.”
“I’ve got him!” yelled Hayes. They all turned to the young man, smiling at his enthusiasm.
“How in the fuck did you do that?” grinned Pigsty.
“Okay, hear me out. I tracked the impressions of his eyes. Iris recognition.” They all stared at him, waiting for more. “It’s different than retinal identification, which we use in our security systems. Iris recognitionis an automated method ofbiometricidentification that uses mathematical pattern-recognition techniques on video images of one or both of theirisesof an individual'seyes. Our eyes have complex patterns that are unique, stable, and can be seen from some distance.”
“Kid, you’re giving me a headache,” frowned Hex.
“Sorry, sir. Anyone who has ever used an iris recognition has their ID logged into a major database of users. Most don’t even know it. Like your smartphone,” he grinned. The men all looked down at their phones, then back toward the comms team.
“We’ve removed tracing on our own phones. Give us some credit,” smiled Pigsty.
“Anyway, sirs, I followed that trail, combined it with DNA from a hair sample…”
“How the fuck did you get a hair sample?” asked Luke. Hayes started to speak, but Luke held up his hand. “You know what? Never mind.”
“Anyway, this guy is interesting, and not in a good way. He was once part of the Supreme Guard Command, or Unit 963.”
“Shit. He’s part of the personal bodyguard task force to protect the ruler. But if the ruler is dead, and there is no ruler, who in the hell is he protecting?” asked Hex.
“That I don’t know yet. I have a feeling there are other children or grandchildren out there belonging to either Park or Wi-Kym Chuen. I’ve found the village where Sun-Jeo and Jae Hua Yoon are living. I think we need to send someone to speak with them.”
“You do, do you?” grinned Luke.
“Well, I mean, yes, sir. It makes sense, right?”
“It does,” laughed Eric. “You did good, Hayes. Is there anything that would tell us who this bodyguard was partnered with?”
“Oh, no. But he’s not part of Unit 963 any longer. He left almost six months ago. It’s unheard of. Most men stay until retirement, or until they don’t have the skills any longer to be in the role. His name was Keoyong Moon. I’m trying to find another guard that may have left at the same time.”
“You’re doing great work, Hayes,” said Luke. “Are you happy?”
“Sir?” he frowned with a questioning look.
“I want you to enjoy life, Hayes. I want you to attend college, do the things you want to do. I love that you’re helping us. You’ve been invaluable, but your happiness is far more important.”
“Thank you, sir,” he smiled. “But I am happy. I’m taking college classes towards my master’s degree right now.”
“Wait. Your master’s degree? You’re only seventeen.”
“Just turned eighteen, sir,” he smiled. “But yeah. My master’s.”
“Outstanding,” said the leadership team at the same time. Hayes laughed, going back to his work.
“Hayes, where are the Yoon’s?”
“Yushu.”
“Great,” frowned Cam. “They’re in the fucking north. It won’t be easy to get to. Who should we send?”
“May,” said Hex. “I know what you’re going to say, but she speaks fluent Mandarin.”
