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wanted to back away but there was nowhere to go in his mind. He was trapped there, just as he’d been in those dark days of his nine-year-old life, when the beast took him over and turned him inside out.
    “Walker!”
    He felt a blow to his face.
    Another supernova evaporated his being, but on the other side of this one was light instead of darkness.
    He saw the hand descending and managed to block it with his own. He was on his back on the floor. Holmes knelt over him. Fratty, Ruiz, and Laws stared at him with worry and just a little fear in their eyes.
    “What…” A single flash of his own red nine-year-old eyes shot through him.
    “Walker!” Holmes called to him, somewhere between a hiss and a shout. The word was amplified through the MBITR and echoed through the now empty space of his mind.
    Then, suddenly, he knew.
    “It’s down there,” he said, pointing toward the wall. “Something … wrong  … is down there. Through the wall.”
    He started to get up. Holmes grabbed him and helped him to his feet.
    “You okay, SEAL?”
    “Yes, sir.” Walker wiped sweat from his face.
    “Billings said this might happen. Chalk one up to her and her people.”
    Walker stared at the SEAL team leader. The woman from the Senate had mentioned that this might happen? How could she have known? How could anyone have known? But there was no time to contemplate. Now that he was back on his feet, he was once again a gear in the SEAL machine. Laws ran the TWR, and though it didn’t show any evidence of a staircase down, it did show a room that was roughly five feet square and empty on the other side of the wall.
    Ruiz pulled a line of detonation cord that had been salted with Semtex from his satchel. He attached it to the wall, creating the outline of a four-foot-high doorway. The rest of the SEALs stacked against the same wall, but several feet away. Ruiz attached an electrical lead, backed up to where the other SEALs were waiting, then depressed the contact button. Halfway between a zipping sound and a muted explosion, the cord went off, explosively sawing through the wall, but not completely obliterating it.
    The SEALs moved quickly to the spot.
    Ruiz pushed against the wall and the new doorway fell free to the floor on the other side.
    Hoover was through first, followed by Fratty, Holmes, Walker, Laws, and then Ruiz.
    The room was little more than a large landing for the set of descending stairs. From below, an unbelievable stench was joined by the sounds of clicking like the claws of a thousand crabs and the susurrations of Chinese voices. But all eyes were on the set of shackles bolted to the middle of the floor on the landing. Illuminated by a single dangling bulb, blood and claw marks surrounded the shackles. A broken piece of fingernail lay absurdly next to the metal bolt.
    The SEALs looked at each other. In their eyes was the recognition that they’d just entered the Land of Fucked-Up.
    Holmes grabbed Laws and pointed down the stairs. “You first. Translate.”
    Laws moved down the stairs in a crouch. When he’d gotten halfway down, he paused and listened. After a moment, he said softly through his MBITR, “Mostly from Fujian Province from the sound of it. The noise is sewing machines, I think. Sweatshop.”
    “And this is the center of the illegal tech transfer?” Fratty asked.
    “We’ll see what we’ll see.” Holmes glanced at the dog. “Hoover?”
    The dog looked up.
    Fratty shrugged. “Dog doesn’t care about the state of illegal shirtmaking.”
    “Laws, take a look.”
    Laws crept down several more stairs. He pulled a thin metal cable from his side pocket and snaked it around the corner.
    Fratty dialed it in on his tablet and they all watched as a dark and cluttered space sprang into a fish-eye view. Women of all ages sat in front of aged machines, spindles of thread twisting in the art of creation. Here and there, flames from candles in the background lit the women in a strange orange light, casting