The rain hammered Seoul's streets like bullets on sheet metal, but it was the silence that told Detective Kade Rivers that he was walking into a trap.
No sirens. No backup. Just a text from an unknown number with coordinates to this alley behind the Gangnam nightclub, and the promise: "Come alone or the truth dies with him."
Kade's hand rested on the Glock 19 under his jacket as he stepped over the threshold where neon light gave way to shadow. The body was there, exactly where the message said it would be. Arranged like a work of art.
Or a warning.
The victim lay perfectly straight—arms at precise forty-five-degree angles, legs military rigid, eyes wide open and staring upward through the rain. One gunshot to the temple. Clean. Professional. But those eyes—Christ, those eyes held no fear. Only recognition, like the man had been waiting for death and finally shaken its hand.
Kade had seen a lot of corpses in his eight years with Seoul Metro. This was different.
"You actually came."
Kade spun, weapon drawn, rain streaming down his face. A figure stood at the alley's mouth—female, mid-thirties, sharp suit under a black umbrella. She held up empty hands.
"Easy, Detective Rivers. I'm the one who sent you the message. I'm also the only person keeping you alive right now."
"Who the hell are you?"
"Someone who made the mistake of caring about the truth." She stepped closer, and the streetlight caught her face—Asian features, scar cutting through her left eyebrow, eyes that had seen things that changed a person. "That body at your feet? Park Min-jun. Software engineer at Nexus Technologies. Third employee to 'commit suicide' in two weeks. Except he didn't kill himself any more than the first two did."
Kade kept his weapon trained on her. "You could've called this in."
"To who? Your captain? Captain Ryu signed off on all three suicide reports before the bodies were cold. Your department's medical examiner? She altered the autopsy findings on victim number two." The woman's voice was acid. "The system's compromised, Rivers. Top to bottom. Which means either you're dirty too, or you're about to become a very inconvenient problem for some very dangerous people."
"I'm listening."
"Wrong answer. You should be running." She tossed something—Kade caught it reflexively. A USB drive, wrapped in plastic. "Min-jun died getting this to me. He was trying to blow the whistle on something that'll make your skin crawl. Neural programming. Mind control. Forty dead test subjects across three countries."
Kade's blood went cold. "That's insane."
"Check his forearm. Left side."
Kade knelt, keeping one eye on the woman. He pulled back the victim's sleeve, and his stomach dropped.
Carved into the flesh, crude but deliberate: 41.8781° N, 87.6298° W
"Chicago coordinates," the woman said. "Same as victim two. Min-jun was leaving breadcrumbs, Detective. The question is whether you're smart enough to follow them, or stupid enough to trust your chain of command."
"What's your name?"
"Dr. Sarah Chen. Neuroscientist. Former Nexus Technologies researcher. And as of four hours ago, a dead woman walking." She pulled out her phone, showed him a screenshot. It was a kill order, encrypted but clear: Chen, Sarah. Termination authorized. Make it look accidental.
"Jesus Christ."
"He's not taking my calls." Chen glanced over her shoulder. "You've got maybe ten minutes before your captain's cleanup crew arrives. They'll sanitize this scene, disappear the body, and if you're still here asking questions, you'll disappear too. So here's what happens next: you take that drive, you dig into what's really happening, and you meet me tomorrow at the coordinates I'm about to send you. Or you play it safe, file the suicide report, and spend the rest of your life wondering how many people died because you chose your pension over the truth."
Kade's jaw tightened. "Why me?"
"Because three weeks ago, you filed a complaint about evidence tampering in the Jung case. Because you've got a reputation for not letting things go. Because Min-jun's last words before they put a bullet in him were, 'Find Rivers. He's the only one who'll care.'" Chen's eyes locked onto his. "Was he right?"
Before Kade could answer, headlights swept across the alley entrance. Black SUVs, three of them, moving with tactical precision.
Chen swore. "That's my exit. Samseong Station, locker 447. You've got two hours." She turned to run, then stopped. "One more thing—you're half-American, right? Father was US military?"
"How did you—"
"Because this doesn't start in Seoul, Detective. It starts in Chicago, at a black site where your father's old unit ran wetwork operations." She disappeared into the shadows. "They didn't just kill Min-jun. They killed Patient Zero. And Patient Zero was one of your father's men."
Then she was gone.
Kade stood frozen as the SUVs pulled up, doors opening. Men in tactical gear, faces covered. Not police. Not official anything.
His phone buzzed: The helmet behind you. Put it on. Camera's recording. Only thing keeping them from shooting you right now is that everything's going live.
Kade turned. A motorcycle helmet sat on a dumpster, small camera mounted on the side, red light blinking.
He grabbed it, put it on.
The tactical team stopped advancing.
"Detective Rivers." The lead operator's voice was distorted through a voice modulator. "We'll need you to hand over anything the woman gave you. Evidence in an ongoing investigation."
"What investigation? Far as I know, this is a suicide."
"Don't make this difficult."
Kade's mind raced. The USB drive was in his pocket. Chen was running. His father—dead fifteen years—was somehow connected to all this. And these men would kill him the moment the camera stopped recording.
"Tell Captain Ryu I'll have my report on his desk by morning." Kade started walking toward the alley exit, pulse hammering.
"I said don't move."
"And I said I'll have my report ready." Kade kept walking, every muscle screaming at him to run. "Unless you want to explain to the news outlets monitoring this live feed why tactical operators are threatening a Seoul detective at a crime scene."
Bluff. Complete bluff. But the operator hesitated.
Kade made it to the street, to his unmarked Hyundai. He climbed in, started the engine, and pulled into traffic with hands shaking so hard he could barely grip the wheel.
His phone buzzed again. New message, unknown number:
*Samseong Station. One hour forty-five minutes. The truth about your father is on that drive. The reason he really died. And the reason they're going to kill you too if you don't move faster.*
*Welcome to the Protocol, Detective Rivers.*
*Try not to die in the next two hours.*
Kade looked in his rearview mirror. The black SUVs were following, three car lengths back. Professional tail.
He smiled grimly and punched the accelerator.
His father had been Delta Force, killed in action in Afghanistan in 2011. That's what the letter said. That's what Kade had believed for fifteen years.
But if Chen was telling the truth, everything he knew was a lie.
And somewhere in this rain-soaked city, people were dying to keep that lie buried.
The dashboard clock read 23:47.
Kade Rivers had 113 minutes to uncover a conspiracy. And a lifetime of truth to unlearn.
The Manchurian Protocol had him now.
And it was just getting started.