Lightning World's Divide Book 1

by Ryan Hartung

  “So, Colt Andrews or I guess Sir Colt Andrews found a staff that can shoot lightning somewhere in Peru.”

  The president stuck his head out of the bathroom door. “This staff, it really can shoot lightning?” he asked in disbelief.

  “From what I’ve been told sir,” Jerry replied.

  “Hmm, no wonder the Prime Minister wants it back so much,” the president postulated and ducked his head back into the bathroom. He still wasn’t convinced such a thing existed, but he was growing eager to hear where the story was leading.

  “Anyway, the rest of the details are kind of sketchy but apparently the staff will only work for Mr. Andrews since he was the first one to touch it after the staff was discovered. Well, the Brits wanted the staff and Mr. Andrews didn’t want to give it to them so they tried to take it by force.”

  “So, obviously they didn’t get it.” The president surmised. He opened the bathroom door, fully dressed and ready to go. His secretary fell in behind him and continued with the update.

  “No, Mr. Andrews still has it in his possession. It appears he electrocuted about a hundred British soldiers as he and his friends fled.”

  “Dear God! How many of them died?” the president gasped.

  “Actually none, sir. Two of the soldiers needed defibrillators, but everyone was else was okay. The electrocution was really more like a mass tasing.”

  “Whew,” the president whistled. “I’m surprised Tony didn’t demand the staff and Mr. Andrews in handcuffs after an incident like that. Where are they now?”

  “Last I heard they were about two hours out from Joint Base Andrews,” Jerry dutifully replied.

  “Good. Get my car ready. I want to be there when they land.”

  “Yes sir,” his secretary responded and scurried away.

  * * *

  The phone rang five times and each time Roger tried to ignore its beckoning call. He pulled his overly stuffed pillow over his head, trying to muffle the sound. The phone was quiet for a minute and then began ringing again; such was the life of a reporter. After the fourth ring Roger finally gave up and answered the blasted device.

  “Roger Smith speaking,” he yawned. “What can I do for you?”

  “Hey Roger old chap, sorry to wake you but I think you’re going to want to hear this,” Reginald spoke excitedly into the phone. Reginald had been a British CNN correspondent for nearly thirteen years and was still waiting for his golden story, as he called it. What he’d seen and heard only a few hours ago was a golden story, but unfortunately his story had just hopped on a plane back to the United States. His only hope now was to share a piece of his golden pie with his American counterpart Roger Smith.

  “Yeah, yeah. This better be good buddy. I’ve got another three hours of sleep in me.”

  “Oh, its golden buddy,” Reginald replied. “I called you first since you’re my best American friend in the business.” He was more excited that he’d been in years and Roger could hear it in his voice.

  “Alright, I knew you were serious when you called it golden. You don’t need to lay it on so thick though. Just tell me what’s up.” Roger sat up in his bed and scratched an itch on his side. He flipped on the lamp sitting on his end table and grabbed the pencil and paper, which were always waiting for a call just like this. “I’ve got a pencil and paper so shoot.”

  “The details are kind of sketchy, but there was a fight on one of our military bases.”

  “So, what’s so special about that?” Roger asked.

  “Stop interrupting and I’ll tell you. One of you yanks electrocuted close to a hundred of our military men, then hopped on a plane across the pond back to your neck of the woods. Now, I’ve got a few guys in the military unit that was involved and they give me tidbits of information now and then and one of them just happened to be at this little soiree. He said the Yankee used some sort of a staff that created a bolt of lightning out of nowhere and shocked all of them at once! He also said they’ve heard American chatter that he’s now heading to Andrews Air Force Base or Joint Andrews Base or whatever you Yanks are calling it now. If I were you I’d get one of your guys to get a high powered camera lens, get over there and take some pictures.”

  “Any idea when they’re supposed to get in?” Roger asked already out of bed and pulling on a pair of pants.

  “We’re guessing six or seven o’clock your time this morning. So go get some shots and call me back. I’ve got another piece of information, but I’m not going to let you have it until I see you’ve got some good quality pictures. Remember Roger old chum, we’re in this fifty-fifty. You help me out and I’ll help you out.”

  “Don’t worry I’m not going to try and screw you. I just hope you didn’t get me out of bed for nothing, but I guess we’ll know in a few hours,” Roger replied. He had never known Reginald to lie to him and he had no reason to believe this was going to be his first time.

  “Go get those picture and we’ll break this story together,” Reginald said.

  “Okay, talk to you in a few,” Roger said and hung up the phone. He quickly gathered the rest of his belongings and rushed out the door.

  Twenty minutes later and outside one of his closest friend’s house; a friend who also happened to be one of the best people he knew to wield a gigantic telephoto lens, he was knocking on his front door.

  THUMP, THUMP, THUMP

  Roger banged on his friend’s front door, but there was no response. He rapped another set of knocks on the door’s wooden frame harder than the last, but still didn’t see any lights being turned on or hear any sounds from his friend stirring inside.

  Roger left the house’s front porch and traversed the maze of hedges and prickly rose bushes to the rear of the house where Bill’s bedroom was located. Roger stood on his tiptoes and peered inside through the darkened window. He thought he could see a lump in the middle of Bill’s bed, but the lack of contrast between the dark bedroom and the early morning sky made it difficult to tell for sure.

  Still watching the presumed lump of his friend on the bed, Roger banged on the bedroom window. Sure enough the lump moved and then stopped. Roger banged again, harder and longer than before.

  “Bill, it’s Roger,” he yelled while pounding against the window’s aluminum frame. This time the lump moved and grew larger as his friend Bill sat up and eventually lumbered to the closed window.

  “What do you want? I’m trying to sleep one off here,” Bill replied grouchily.

  “I need you and your camera for a few hours’ worth of work,” Roger yelled back through the pane of glass.

  Bill, annoyed and not afraid to show it, shoed Roger away from the window and towards the back door. Roger smiled in understanding and was waiting for Bill on the back door’s landing when the light flicked on a few minutes later. As Bill unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door, Roger noticed he was already fully dressed. Roger was fairly certain they were the same clothes he’d seen Bill wearing the day before. The wrinkled creases on his friend’s shirt and a light red ketchup stain were a dead giveaway.

  Roger had felt sorry for his friend the last couple of months ever since his wife of ten years had left him. He knew Bill was probably drinking a little too much all alone in his empty house. As his friend he tried to come over as often as he could; which wasn’t all that much. But this early morning Roger felt he could actually do some good. He could spend some time with his hurting friend while giving him a job at the same time.

  Bill didn’t let Roger in the house, but ushered him off the steps following close behind. Roger could smell the night’s booze on Bill’s breath and clothes. In Bill’s right hand was a bottle Roger hoped was filled with water and not alcohol. In his left was a bottle of Excedrin. Before Bill said a word he popped three pills in his mouth and chased them with a large gulp of the clear liquid.

  “So you got some pictures you need taken, huh? Must be pretty important to be rushing over here in the middle of the night,” Bill said while massaging his aching temp
les.

  “If what Reginald told me is true, this story could be golden,” Roger said with a smile.

  Bill caught the joke and tried to fight back a grin. “I should’ve known that blowhard had something to do with this. I tell you though, if he got you to get me out of bed for nothing I’m going to fly over there and kick his butt. I was in the middle of a perfectly good hangover,” Bill replied as his smile faded. “Well let’s go. What are we waiting for and where are we heading?” Bill said as he headed to his car’s front door.

  “Whoa man, you’re not driving. Not the state you’re in. Just get your gear and I’ll get us to Andrews.”

  “The Air Force base huh? Sure, you can drive if you think I can’t. I can sleep on the way there anyway.”

  Bill grabbed his gear from his car’s back seat and emerged from the back of his house a few minutes later. Roger was already waiting in his car with the trunk’s hood open. After stowing his gear in the trunk and slamming it shut, Bill gently sat down in the car’s passenger seat.

  “So what’re we looking for?” Bill asked, taking another drink of the clear liquid.

  “Um, we’re looking for lightning,” Roger replied, preoccupied by the questionable clear liquid. “Hey Bill, I just have to ask, what’s in the bottle. It’s not more alcohol is it?”

  Bill responded to his friend’s question with a look of indignation. “No, it’s not alcohol. You need a drink to see for yourself?” he said handing him the bottle.

  “No. I believe you,” Roger quickly replied. Although not completely convinced, his worries did subside for the most part.

  “So, about the lightning?” Bill asked, now even a little more confused about their secret trip than before.

  “All I know is Reginald said someone’s going to be flying into Andrews with some sort of device that can produce bolts of lightning. He said this guy has already used it against a bunch of soldiers in England.

  “And you’re hoping I can get some pictures to prove this thing’s existence, right?” Bill asked for clarification.

  “Bingo. I’m guessing we’re only going to get a few shots of it leaving the plane. So, do you have any ideas where you can get the money shot?”

  “Yeah, I think I know a spot or two where we could get a few pictures. There are a couple of locations along the highways where my lens could get some clear pictures, if they have this cloak and dagger thing of yours out in the open.”

  “Excellent,” Roger replied. He shifted the car into drive and sped along the early morning deserted streets as the sun’s first rays started appearing on the horizon.

  Chapter

  9

  As the plane slowly descended towards Andrews Air Force base, which was only thirty minutes by car from the center of Washington D.C., the morning sun was just beginning to peak its head over the horizon.

  Hillary stirred as a ray of sun shone through one of the airplane’s rounded windows and onto her face. Still strapped into her seat, Hillary jerked trying to move while not remembering exactly where she was. The thick canvas straps tightened against her seizing muscles and kept her clamped in her seat. Opening her eyes, the previous night’s memories came flooding back.

  She looked over at Colt, still asleep and tightly fastened to his chair. She smiled seeing both of his hands still firmly gripping the methodically pulsing staff.

  Hillary reached over and placed one of her warm hands on his arm and gently shook. The staff sensed her coming closer and tried to warn its master by pulsing harder and faster. Hillary marveled at the ancient artifact, but wasn’t afraid. She was only touching her boyfriend, not trying to take the staff.

  Colt stirred at the soft human contact and thrust his legs and arms out into the air, stretching all four at the same time. He let out an overly loud yawn and pulled his extended appendages back to his body. Colt looked over at Hillary’s smiling face and leaned over to kiss her forehead as she leaned in to give him a morning hug.

  “What’s with all the ruckus?” Dominic asked while stirring in his seat. He too yawned and gazed out of the airplane’s window. The sun had risen further and now appeared as a flaming ball sitting on the horizon. Dominic arched his head to get a better angle and saw land approaching from the west. The United States had never looked so good.

  The plane then started its decent into Joint Base Andrews. “Make sure your straps are tight. We’re going to be landing in a few minutes,” the captain’s voice projected over the loud speakers.

  A few dips of turbulence and a soft bounce off the hard tarmac later, Colt and the others started unclipping their harnesses. Alone in the rear of the massive aircraft, they were anxious to put their feet on solid ground. Before long a grinding whine sounded from the rear of the plane as the tail’s ramp began lowering.

  The morning’s early light flooded into the cargo hold. Colt and the others shielded their eyes momentarily as their eyes adjusted to the incoming light. Two armed servicemen stepped onto the ramp once it reached the ground, blocking their path.

  “What’s this all about?” Colt questioned and took a menacing step forward. Colt wasn’t a pacifist but he didn’t normally go around searching for fights either. The last few days however had frayed his nerves and he was currently in no mood for games. He felt the staff’s power radiating through him; ready for its use at any moment.

  A third more highly decorated officer strode in between the two armed service men and looked Colt and his companions up and down.

  “The president of the United States is outside of this aircraft and would like to meet the three of you. Is that going to be a problem?” he asked Colt directly.

  Colt glanced back and forth between Hillary and Dominic who both bore curious expressions at the news.

  “I guess we might as well,” Hillary agreed.

  “Why not? If they were going to arrest us there’d be no need for the president to be here,” Dominic added with a shrug.

  “I was thinking the same thing Dom,” Colt replied. He turned his attention back to the waiting officer. “Sure, that would be fine with us,” he replied. “No trouble here.”

  The officer motioned for them to follow him down the ramp. The rising sun cast long shadows of Colt, Hillary and Dominic against the cracked tarmac as they exited the large aircraft and into the morning’s light. Colt wasn’t sure about the other two, but finally placing his feet solidly on familiar American soil gave him an extreme amount of relief.

  Colt scanned the expansive landing strip. Maybe thirty yards from the from the plane’s rear ramp was waiting for them the president of the United States. Colt recognized him almost instantly from his picture on T.V. Having never met the man before, he was unsure how this first meeting was going to progress. In Europe, his having been knighted by the queen of England, combined with the numerous priceless artifacts he’d discovered over the years, had given him a sort of rock star like status. But in his home country where he’d spent relatively a small amount of time, except for the occasional lecture or exhibition, he was rather unknown.

  “So, you’ve caused a bit of trouble for me across the ocean young man,” the president half joking and half seriously chided Colt and the others as they approached before exchanging pleasantries. The president then held out his hand for Colt to shake.

  “Sorry about that Mr. President. I know why they wanted this and I couldn’t allow that to happen,” Colt replied and patted the lightning staff. Each singular pat sent a ripple of light through the staff beginning from where it was touched and ending at the opposite ends. The president stared in awe at the flowing waves of light, having never seen anything like it before.

  Completely forgetting politics for the moment, the president asked to see a demonstration of the device.

  “Sir, we don’t know anything about this thing. I’m not sure it’s wise to ask for a demonstration before it has been thoroughly studied,” a member of his high-ranking military attaché advised.

  “Your concern in noted admiral,
but if Mr. Andrews hasn’t been bothered by the staff after having direct contact with it for days now, then I’m sure we’ll all be fine,” the president replied as fact. Colt watched the president out of the corner of his eye and could tell he was almost giddy with excitement. The situation reminded him of exactly how the staff’s presence had been greeted in England; it was déjà vu all over again. The question was how would it turn out this time?

  “Son, if it’s alright with you I’d like to see this staff of yours in action” the president asked, turning his attention back to Colt.

  “Sure thing Mr. President. What do you want me to do?”

  The president scanned the area for something close by, whose destruction would not raise any eyebrows. “How about those three blue barrels way over there,” the president suggested.

  “Okay. If you don’t mind giving me a bit of room that shouldn’t be a problem.” Colt took a step forward as those closest to him took a few steps backwards. As before he held the staff out in front of him and cocked it at a fifteen degree angle for effect.

  Colt visualized the blue fifty gallon drums within his mind and imagined a singular bolt of white-hot lightning erupting from the sky and striking them. The staff began pulsating with an increasing brightness of golden light, while overhead the blackest of small rain clouds formed out of thin air. A lightning bolt shot out of the cloud with such an intensity all of those present could hear it sizzling through the air.

  The bolt struck the three plastic barrels, melting them instantly and revealing they were each filled with sand. As the blue containers’ plastic melted, bubbling to the ground, then sand inside was immediately turned into a large hump of yellowish-clear glass.

  “Holy cow!” the president cheered. “No wonder the Brits wanted the staff!”

  “Yep, now you can see why I wanted to keep it in my possession. In fact we’ve figured out since I was the first person to touch it, for some reason I’m the only one who can actually use it. This staff Mr. President would be essentially useless to anyone else, which is why I’d like to keep it with me for further studying.”