“What the hell did they do to this guy?” Sam moved slightly to the side of the crate and leaned closer.

The body was heavily scarified, with swirls and script carved straight into the flesh. The wounds were still open.

“Fresh cuts, but no blood.” Adira said. “I think this mutilation was done after death.” She touched the skin and pulled her hand back, rubbing thumb and forefinger together. “Feels like wax.”

“A Traveler,” Alex said. “Just like the thing that strolled into the International Zone.”

“Big fucker. This one must have died before it got its orders.” Casey grimaced as Alex reached into the crate, turning the massive head one way, then the next. Then he grabbed the shawl and ripped it away.

The flowing script was covering its body, but that wasn’t what riveted them. Zippering the body were masses of surgical scars knitting together a patchwork of different skin types. There was darker olive skin sewn to fair, and one huge hairy pectoral, not matching the smooth dark one on the other side of the chest, and a third in the center.

“Notice anything missing?”

“Besides my sanity?” Casey immediately responded. She pointed with her gun. “No belly button.”

“Keep going,” Adira said.

Casey scoffed. “Holy shit, where’s the freaking cock?” She craned her head. “There’s nothing down there. Hey, maybe its not a man after all.”

“What the hell is going on here?” Sam couldn’t hide the disgust in his voice.

Alex reached into the crate to turn the head again. “It’s not a man, not a woman, not an anything. Mary Shelley, eat your heart out.” He felt an odd sensation under his fingertips. “No pulse, but there’s … something.”

Adira held up a strip of material she had kept from the table. “This cloth, I believe it’s a headband. Terrorists carry a prayer, or a plea to enter paradise when about to go into battle. Perhaps this, this thing, was meant to carry the name of its target – Al-Rûm.”

“Giant pack mules. The damned Iranians are loading them up here, and then setting them loose. But …” Sam rubbed a hand up through his hair. “But this one is dead, if it ever was alive.”

Adira turned the strip of material over. “More words.” She frowned, trying to make sense of the ancient script. She spoke them softly, halting and starting again until she had the translation right.

Alex felt a tingle run up his spine to his scalp, as if static electricity had filled the room. “Jesus.” The lump of flesh beneath his hand quivered, and the thing’s eyes opened. Alex went to jump back, but one huge hand shot up to grab him by the throat.