by Ryan Hartung
Colt took a step forward while everyone who had initially been behind him scurried from their positions towards his rotating rear. He waited for everyone to find a new spot safely behind him before raising the staff one final time. The staff pulsed with energy. Initially one small black cloud formed out of nothingness over the top of the first car, then another one formed over the second and then the third and all the way to the last car. As each cloud formed, it produced a massive white bolt of energy, destroying the car underneath. The bolts of destruction continued in succession until each car was melted to a smoldering pile of plastic and metal.
“Again, simply amazing,” the Secretary responded in awe. “Did you guys get all of that?” he asked turning to his cameramen. Three of the four gave a thumbs up, with the forth nodding in return. “How about the Geiger counter, anything?”
“Nope, clean as a whistle,” a man holding a square box with a handle replied.
“Nice work Colt,” Dominic congratulated his friend. He loved watching Colt blow up the cars and trucks as if they were small little firecrackers. Dominic assumed everyone else was as thrilled as he was to see the cars obliterated into nothingness. Who didn’t enjoy a good explosion?
“Is there anything else sir?” Hillary asked from Colt’s side. “I’d really like to spend some time searching the databases on the other possible artifacts’ locations before we reconvene with the president later today if that’s possible.”
“That’s exactly what I had in mind my dear. I’ll have one of my men drop the three of you off wherever you want to goand they’ll pick you up at the same location at 3:00 this afternoon. I’d suggest the three of you get some lunch and then get to work. We only have a couple of hours until we report back to the White House.”
Colt, Hillary and Dominic shook the Secretary of Defense’s hand for a quick goodbye. They were then whisked away to the Library of Congress where Hillary and Colt would have every bit of knowledge the United States possessed at their fingertips and Dominic could lazily surf the internet.
* * *
Three hours of constant studying and a large supreme pizza later, Colt, Hillary and Dominic were standing outside the Library of Congress along with the ever pulsing lightning staff waiting for their ride to arrive. The Secretary of Defense had offered to keep the staff in his possession and even though Colt had no reason to believe the Secretary’s offer was nothing but that, he declined, opting to keep the staff himself. Although as he continued receiving many odd gawking stares from the library’s patrons and other Washingtonians throughout the afternoon, he began to wonder if he should have reconsidered the general’s offer.
“You know you’re lucky you already have a girlfriend,” Dominic stated as they watched their ride pull up to the curb. “If you keep carrying that staff around everywhere you go all of the ladies are going to think you’re a big dork.”
Hillary laughed. “Good thing I already know you’re a big dork,” she said. She grabbed a hold of his arm not holding the staff and gave it a tight loving squeeze. The staff glowed brighter in anger at its master being touched but did nothing more.
Fifteen minutes after piling into their jet black SUV along with the same military escorts who had watched over them at the library, Colt’s team arrived at the White House. The president was awaiting their arrival in the Oval Office along with other select personnel he had deemed essential to finding out if other similar artifacts really existed and what should be done about them.
All eyes were upon Colt and his glowing staff as he entered the room followed by Hillary and Dominic. Although no one, not even the famous Sir Colt Andrews knew the staff’s origin, not one person seemed bothered by a sense of fear at its inclusion in the packed room.
“There he is,” the president warmly welcomed his guests. “Before we get started I just want to personally tell you this is the find of the century Mr. Andrews that you and your team has made. You’ve made your country very proud today.”
“Thank you Mr. President,” Colt humbly said. For the first time in days he set the lightning staff down along one of the walls and felt comfortable walking away from it. With a room packed with so many people and important ones at that, Colt was worried about accidentally shocking one of them to death if they happened to bump into him. For this type of close quarter’s situation it was better just to let the staff remain dormant.
Colt caught Hillary’s smile as he walked away from the staff and her silent mouthing of the word dork with a grin.
“Now that every one’s here let’s get started,” the president ordered. The president didn’t sit with the rest, but leaned against the front of the Resolute Desk.
“Jim, how did the tests of this lightning staff go this morning?” President Davis asked the Secretary of Defense.
“About as perfect as they could have been. That staff is probably the most perfect weapon I’ve ever seen. It’s deadly accurate, never needs to be charged and in Mr. Andrews’s words it’s a piece of cake to use,” the Secretary responded.
President Davis walked over to the now bronze, but unlit staff. “Do you mind if I take a closer look at it?” he asked Colt.
“Sure. Now that I’m not holding it I don’t think it should pose any risk to you.”
The president carefully picked up the dormant artifact and studiously looked it up and down. Once he was finished he asked if anyone else wanted to hold it, to which almost everyone said yes.
As the staff was passed around from person to person, the president tried to keep the meeting on track. “So what I really need to know is are there more of these devices out there?”
Hillary, standing next to Colt cleared her throat. “I’m not sure we can answer that right now. Until a few days ago as far as we knew no one in the world knew this artifact existed. Right now it’s just too early to tell. However, that being said, out of the five additional locations that were mentioned on the bottom of the staff’s pedestal, two of them were listed by name; Atlantis and Mount Vesuvius.
Of course we all know that the city of Atlantis is fictional, but Mount Vesuvius is definitely real. Until we start digging around any of these veiled locations I don’t think we can make any real informed decisions. I’d suggest we start searching Mount Vesuvius before any of the other locations.”
President Davis pondered the answer for a moment before asking, “Mr. Andrews, do you agree?”
Hillary gave the president a disapproving look for second guessing her opinion. Was it because she was a woman? She turned her attention to Colt, starring him up and down, thinking if he knew what was good for him he’d back her up.
Colt felt Hillary’s judging eyes, but whole-heartedly agreed with her assessment. “Yes Mr. President, she’s right. I think we need to get a team together to scour the inside of Vesuvius’ cone for traces of Hades’ temple. It might be the hardest to get to, but it could also be the easiest to find.”
“Okay, then how can the United States help?” the president responded.
“Well, from what I know about volcanoes, they can get pretty darn hot,” Colt joked. “We could use any technology that’s available to keep us cool like personal A.C. units and some of those fancy reflective silver jumpsuits that can withstand the heat.”
“Hmm,” the president thought, “I think we might be able to help you out.” He pushed the intercom button on his desk’s phone. “Jerry, can you get us some sandwiches in here. I think we’re going to be awhile. How’s pastrami and ham sound to all of you?”
Chapter
12
At 6:02 that evening the president’s secretary barged into the closed door meeting while supper was being had. Looks of indignation and annoyance greeted Jerry after bursting into the room, but he failed to notice. He was only focused on the president.
“Mr. President, I’m sorry to interrupt, but you need to turn on the news.”
President Davis searched his secretary’s trusted eyes for a brief second and then waved his hand giving the
go ahead. Jerry hopped from one side of the room to the other and flipped on the television. He quickly changed from ESPN, which was almost always on stemming from the president’s strong love of sports, to CNN.
The broadcast was already in progress, but its content was clear to everyone. Plastered on the entire screen was Bill’s magnificent shot of Colt destroying the blue barrels after their arrival at Joint Base Andrews.
“Wow, you look pretty buff in that picture,” Dominic whispered in Colt’s ear, which earned a disapproving scowl from the closest official.
After a while the picture of Colt using the lightning staff was replaced with the photograph of the pedestal Hillary had taken in Peru.
“Hey, that’s my picture,” Hillary complained. The picture’s eerie coloring from the lightning staff’s glow along with Dominic’s knee sticking out into the photograph’s corner left her with little doubt the photo was hers.
“Did you send that picture to anyone else?” Colt asked.
“No, just George, that’s it,” she replied, clearly annoyed.
“It doesn’t matter now,” President Davis stated. He turned off the T.V. once the segment was finished. “Now the whole world knows what we have and that there might be more of them out there. It’s going to be like the California gold rush, but this time on a global scale.”
“We need to put all of our resources into finding those other sites before anyone else does,” one of the generals advised.
“Yes, nothing has changed on that front,” President Davis replied. “Nothing with what we’ve discussed has changed. Colt, you and your team will have any resources you require. We need to find the remainder of these artifacts before the rest of the world does. We’re counting on you Mr. Andrews.”
Sir Colt Andrews looked the president squarely in the eyes and excitedly nodded in agreement. However enthused he and his team were in that moment, they didn’t have a clue to how much their discovery of the Lightning Staff would change their lives and that of the entire world in the months to come.
Thank you for reading.
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Find out about upcoming stories and new releases from Ryan Hartung at www.ryanhartung.com
Please enjoy the following excerpt from Death Book 2 in the World’s Divide series.
Available at your favorite E Book retailer
Death
World's Divide Book 2
Chapter
1
Russian President Boris Aleksandrov watched the final clip of the Russian news version of CNN, which was currently detailing ad nauseam the Americans’ miraculous find of the ancient Peruvian artifact. The piece however, was devoid of any mention of England first having the remarkable artifact and then allowing it to slip through their hands. In actuality it mattered little to Boris who currently possessed the Lightning Staff as the reporters had dubbed the artifact. What mattered to Boris was the possibility that more relics like it might actually exist.
“Have we taken to napping this early in the morning?” Anatoly Lipov, his aging mentor questioned from the open door at seeing the Russian president silently staring out his large office’s window. Anatoly’s unkempt greying hair was roughly pushed to one side of his head, which meshed well with his rather drab communist styled clothing of dark blues and grey. Only his bright blue ever watching eyes led credence to the brilliant and calculating mind hidden under the unimpressive exterior.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I was only pondering this morning’s world news report,” Boris replied. Anatoly had taught him much over the years, but his mentor’s judgmental character at times was a difficult pill to swallow, such as today where a simple good morning would have sufficed.
“Ahh, I see you’ve heard about the American’s discovery then. Have you any thoughts on the matter?” Anatoly questioned.
Boris studied the aging communist legend, knowing he believed there was only one correct answer to the question. “I was thinking Russia would benefit greatly from a device such as that. To control the lightning, what a weapon,” Boris thoughtfully said, while at the same time eyeing his mentor and seeking his approval.
“Yes, powerful indeed Boris. But not necessarily just as a weapon. Perhaps as a source of electricity or even more than that,” Anatoly returned. “But we shouldn’t waste our time deliberating the would haves and could haves. What we should be discussing is that there are potentially five remaining artifacts.”
“If they even exist,” Boris blurted out, unconvinced.
“Are you really that naïve to believe they don’t? The whole world has seen what the Lightning Staff can do. Do you really believe the others have been destroyed by the passage of time? Humans used to think the world was flat and that the earth was the center of the universe. Is it really that ridiculous that we might have been wrong about this too?”
“What do you want me to do old man?” Boris demanded, sick of Anatoly’s game of questions. “Tell me!”
“You are the Russian president. You must decide for yourself what must be done. I can only offer advice. But in a situation such as this, as the Americans say, it’s the early bird that gets the worm. I do not believe it would be wise to wait in the shadows while the rest of the world is hunting for these magnificent treasures.”
“You would hunt for the relics then?”
“I would,” Anatoly replied matter-of-factly.
“Well, I know you have a plan so spit it out. I’m not a mind reader.”
“If I were Russia’s president I would send a small reconnaissance team to search for the only artifact whose location was explicitly defined. I’d send them to Mount Vesuvius in Naples, Italy.”
“What type of team? Military or scientific?”
“That would be up you to decide, but I believe a team comprised of both trades would be most advantageous. My daughter Natalya has made quite a name for herself in Russian archeological circles. Plus, her views are staunchly in line with the communist party. There would be no unsettling concerns that she’d use the artifact for personal gain or citizenship to another country. To her Russia comes first.”
“Yes, I have watched her grow quite strong in many circles of influence lately, much like her older father,” Boris replied to his mentor and saw a brief burst of pride in the old man’s eyes. “I believe one scientific mind should be sufficient however for a mission such as this. The other members should all come from our military elite.”
“Agreed. And there is one commander above all else who is perfectly suited for the task at hand.”
“Vladimir Pavlov?” Boris Aleksandrov asked, certain he already knew the answer.
“Exactly.” Anatoly confirmed. “Let him pick his team. Two or three more soldiers along with Natalya will form a small group that can quickly enter and exit Italy without drawing very much attention. They should be able to ascertain if there is any validity to the treasure’s existence or if it’s a ruse.”
“Yes, that is a good plan. I’ll send Vladimir his orders. I’ll inform him we want him and his team ready to go and out of the country within a day’s time. His efficiency is well known. I wouldn’t be surprised if within another forty-eight hours after their departure we will know if the purported treasure of Hades actually exists.”
“And with it, whether Russia will once again be able to control its own destiny,” Anatoly added with optimism.
* * *
“Get a move on Dmitry, President Aleksandrov wanted us in the air two hours ago!” Vladimir Pavlov gruffly ordered his subordinate. Two hours earlier their first plane, on attempting to leave the Smolensk North Airport just outside of Moscow, had blown one of its engines. As Vladimir and his crew of three had been boarding the plane, the two pilots were dutifully following their normal checklists before takeoff. Out of nowhere, while the pilots were lastly checking each engine in turn, one of the engines caught fire and had to be extinguished by the airp
ort’s ground crew. Their flight was scrapped.
Although an inconvenience, the situation was not out of the ordinary for Russia’s aging fleet of military vehicles and aircraft. Vladimir had then quickly radioed his superiors requesting another plane, which was finally ready.
“Alright, on the plane everyone,” Vladimir ordered his small team. Natalya and Pavel dutifully boarded the waiting aircraft, but their third companion was nowhere to be seen. Now, two hours later and behind schedule, Dmitry had somehow found a way to unready himself from the boarding process.
“So help me Dmitry, if you don’t get your white Russian butt on that plane in the next five minutes I’ll shoot you myself!” Vladimir yelled, getting no response from Dmitry concerning his previous order. Vladimir’s second threat, being much harsher than the first, finally found Dmitry’s attention. Within well under five minutes, Dmitry was on the plane, strapped in his seat with his military gear stowed underneath.
Having worked for Vladimir in the past, Dmitry was quite aware of his leader’s ability to make good on his threats. As Vladimir himself boarded the plane, Dmitry along with Pavel and Natalya Lipov stared back at him with expressionless faces, waiting their orders.
Before addressing his small commando unit, Vladimir stuck his head into the pilot’s cockpit and ordered, “Take off now.” He didn’t elaborate because he didn’t need to. As his words were being spoken, the tone in his voice let the pilots know he meant now.
Without delay the pilots hurried the last part of their checklist. Before Vladimir had his seat belt buckled the plane was already beginning to hurl itself down the cracked runway. He didn’t smile or feel pleased at his orders being followed with such speed and veracity; he expected them to be.
