by Ryan Hartung
“So, are we getting out of here tonight?” Hillary asked.
“Can’t say. George just told us to sit tight,” Colt replied.
Ten hours later after spending the night in a crude inn that only saw a few travelers a month, Colt, Hillary, Dominic and the lightning staff were stowed aboard a British jet black military helicopter and heading for the closest airport. At the airport was waiting a fully fueled Royal Air Force cargo plane ready to ferry them and their treasure back to England. Another fifteen hours and a few stops for refueling later, Colt and the others stepped off of the large military transport and onto British soil.
During the trip Colt had spoken with select members of the British military and secret services pertaining to the artifact he now held. Immediately after he’d done so however, he regretted his decision not keeping at least a couple of his cards closer to his chest. Namely, Colt regretted sending Hillary’s picture of the pedestal, which listed the cryptic locations of up to five additional artifacts. But what was done was done as his father used to say. For now he’d have to cross his fingers and hope for the best.
Upon their arrival Colt, Hillary and Dominic were greeted to a hero’s welcome of sorts by not only the head of MI-6, but the Admiral of the Fleet, the Marshal of the Royal Air Force and the newly appointed Chief of the Defense Staff. His friend George Stonewall was there too, beaming in the background. A slew of armored black cars with tinted windows waited in the background, which had surrounded their plane soon after landing. While shaking the high ranking officials’ hands, Colt scanned the perimeter for other security forces.
“Has there been a threat against the throne or something?” Dominic joked observing the unnecessary military precautions.
“We’re not taking any chances,” the Chief curtly replied, not finding his joke funny. “If this staff you three found can do half of what we’ve been told then I would have suggested the entire area be locked down.”
Dominic shrank back from the harsh rebuke and Hillary inched closer to Colt, uneasy around the military personnel. They were then marched to a black unmarked SUV and told to get inside. Colt’s hands held Hillary’s nervous palm in one and the still wrapped lightning staff in the other. Even though not an inch of the staff touched his skin through the heavy blanket, it continued to glow in Colt’s presence. In the afternoon sun, the blanket had muted the staff’s glow to where it was almost unnoticeable, but now inside the heavily tinted government vehicle the glowing was again unmistakable.
After twenty minutes the motorcade comprised of black cars and SUVs had left London behind and were driving through the hilly countryside to a more secluded base outside of town.
“Alright, show us what it can do,” the chief ordered once they were out of the car at the more secure location. To their rear was a large unused army barrack. To their front and sides were large swaths of concrete interlaced with weeds growing through the cracks. In many places where evidence of concrete still remained a patch of grass or dandelions were trying hard to take over. Over two football fields in the distance sat a rusty tank Colt guessed was leftover from the Second World War
Even from so far away, Colt could tell the tank had been used for extensive target practice in the past. Round circles of paint were gone, replaced with rust colored divots, where past bullets had undoubtedly hit.
“What can you do to that tank?” the Chief asked. Colt looked at him and smiled. Carefully he unraveled the green cloak from around the lightning staff. He heard gasps from the military leaders standing behind him as he exposed the pale-yellow glowing metal.
As before, he held the staff in front of his body. Unlike before however, the target this time was thankfully far off in the distance. Far enough he hoped any shrapnel that escaped the immediate blast radius would hit the ground long before making it to their position.
Not uncommon for England, the earlier sunny day had quickly become overcast since their arrival at the military airport. Nonetheless, as Colt raised the staff and imagined a gigantic bolt of lightning striking the aging tank, a smaller almost black dark cloud formed below the grayish sky. A fiery bolt of pure electricity shot down from the miniature cloud in the sky, vaporizing the rusty hunk of metal exactly as it had the scraggly tree.
Everyone except Colt covered their eyes against the blinding brilliance of the lightning strike. By the time they opened their eyelids and lowered their hands only a ball of orange-red molten metal remained where the obsolete tank had previously sat.
“Bloody hell,” one of the military officials whistled at the awesome display of power.
“That staff will be a welcome addition to her majesty’s arsenal,” the Chief added. “Hank, why don’t you take the staff from Sir Colt. I don’t believe he’ll be needing it anymore.”
“That’s not a good idea,” Colt advised as the staff’s pulsing light brightened in intensity as Hank approached.
“And why is that?” the chief asked not used to having his orders questioned, especially by someone with zero understanding of military matters.
“For some reason the staff only responds to my touch. If anyone tries to take it from me they get a wicked shock,” Colt replied.
“You better trust him on that one,” Dominic added and held up his bandaged hand. “Unfortunately I learned that lesson the hard way when I tried to take it from him in Peru.”
“Well just set it on the ground and my man will retrieve it then,” the chief responded growing annoyed.
“That won’t work either,” Hillary chimed in.
“And why is that?” the chief asked with a huff.
“There was a transcription on one of the room’s walls that stated that there could be only one Zeus. We believe that means that until Colt dies, only he can operate the staff,” Hillary added.
“And what if he dies?”
“I can’t say for sure, but my opinion is the next person to pick up the staff would then be in control,” Colt answered.
“Hmm. Very interesting,” the chief replied. The way the chief said interesting sent chills down Colt’s spine. The chief then ordered Colt, Hillary and Dominic to stay put while he conferred with his top advisors. In a couple of minutes he returned and ordered them back into the vehicle they had arrived in moments ago.
“I’d watch my back if I were you,” Dominic quietly whispered in his friend’s ear.
“I’m sending the three of you to a secure facility for the night while we figure out what to do about this staff of yours.” The chief shut the rear door and slapped the car’s top, signaling the driver to go. Colt, Hillary and Dominic exchanged worried glances, wanting to discuss what had just transpired, but were afraid to speak in front of their military escorts. They sat in eerie silence as the SUV whisked them away to an undisclosed location.
Chapter
6
“What was a British military helicopter doing in my airspace?” Peru’s president Emilio Basar demanded. An hour earlier he’d received the unexpected report detailing the uninvited incursion into his country’s sovereign airspace.
“Our reports indicate they picked up three archeologists from El Tingo,” the Minister of Defense meekly responded. The Minister of Defense cursed the reports that had reached president Basar before his military wing was able to confirm or deny the intrusion. It was his department’s job to provide the exact details of the British helicopter’s quick arrival and departure, not the local airports, which were now over asserting their authority.
“Well, what were they doing in El Tingo and why did they need a secret military escort out of my country?” the president shouted. He slammed his hand on his desk, rattling pens and trinkets in anger. President Basar stared down his military commander, making one of the most powerful people in Peru feel like a small disobedient child.
“The locals say the archeologists had been to the Chachapoya citadel where those American tourists found some sort of new underground passageway a few weeks ago. They didn’t use credit cards in
El Tingo, but from the town’s residents it sounds like it was Sir Colt Andrews and his crew.”
“Oh yes, I remember signing a request from the Ministry of Foreign Commerce and Tourism allowing his team to enter the country. But, the only reason they’d have needed a military escort out is if they stole something belonging to Peru,” president Basar surmised. Emilio Basar loved his country of Peru more than life itself. If this Colt Andrews did indeed steal an artifact from the ancient site, Emilio would waste no resources to bring the artifact back to Peruvian soil.
“I agree sir; that was our assessment as well,” the Minister of Defense responded, trying to gain the irritated president’s favor. President Basar rolled his eyes at the blatant plea for forgiveness. He felt the country’s Minister of Defense should be at least three steps ahead of him with regards to matters of this nature; not two steps behind.
“Have any of our archeologists been to the sight?”
“No. After you signed the agreement letting Colt Andrews’s people have first crack at the dig, as a manner of respect for his expertise none of our researchers wanted to step on his toes. But we have a team there as we speak searching the ruins for clues,” the Minister of Defense proudly responded. His military might have dropped the ball earlier in the game, but now the situation was being dealt with the utmost seriousness and haste.
At that moment the president’s secretary barged through his office’s closed doors unannounced. “Mr. President there’s an urgent call for the Minister of Defense. They’ve found something,” he said breathlessly. President Basar commanded his trusted secretary, one of the only people allowed to enter his office without knocking, to put the phone on speaker.
“This is president Basar and the Minister of Defense, what have you found?”
“Sirs, this is General Bellido. I’m standing not two feet from the newly discovered opening where I believe the British archeologists were digging. Our team of Peruvian archeologists has found Greek writing on the walls labeling the underground rooms as the final resting place of Zeus.”
“You mean the Greek god?” the Minister of Defense chimed in. “What in the world would anything relating to Greek mythology be doing buried in the middle of the Andes mountains?” he asked in disbelief.
“That’s exactly what I asked our team. But they said the Incas that used to live here also believed in a god of lightning themselves. I’m guessing you’ve both heard stories of Illapa, the Incan god of lightning? Just from what we’ve discovered today our experts here think there has to be a connection of some sort between the two extinct deities.”
“Okay, so they’ve found an old temple that has writing about Zeus. That still doesn’t explain why they fled the country.”
“Yes president Basar, that doesn’t, but after interviewing some of the locals from El Tingo a few of them that saw the Brits reported seeing Colt Andrews carrying something long like sort of staff, wrapped under a blanket. And get this, it was glowing.”
“Hmm, that is interesting,” the president responded.
“And, in the furthest room of the temple there is a pedestal that has had whatever it was holding removed,” the general added. “Oh, and there’s something else too. Inscribed on the bottom of the pedestal are vague locations purportedly of Zeus’ five brothers and sisters. If I had to guess, I’d bet each of their resting places also has a similar treasure,” General Bellido finished.
After a moment of quiet insight, president Basar responded. “Here’s what I want you to do general. I want where you are sealed as tight as a bottle of Coke. No one but our team of archeologists gets in or out and I mean no one. Secondly I want those other sites found. I don’t care who you have to work with or what it costs, but I want the other treasures found and brought back to Peru. And lastly I want to know what Colt Andrews stole from that temple and why it was glowing.”
The president hung up the phone and turned to his Minister of Defense. “For some reason I have a feeling there’s more to the Incan god of lightning than we thought. What if this Andrews character discovered something that could create lightning itself? That would at least explain why whatever he had was glowing. Wouldn’t that necessitate a military extraction for him back to England?”
President Basar knew what he had just said sounded completely ridiculous, but for the moment it was the most logical reason he could come up with. Hopefully soon his semi-inept military would either prove him right or wrong.
* * *
Tony Wilson, England’s Prime Minister paced back and forth in a large open office. He had traveled to MI-6’s headquarters at Vauxhall Cross, after being showed footage of Colt Andrews’s demonstration of the lightning staff’s destructive powers.
“For lack of a better word, the video of that lightning staff in action was awesome!” the Prime Minister exclaimed.
“Yes sir, it was pretty spectacular. We only tried the staff that one time though. Based on that result, I’m not sure if there’s a limit to what it can destroy. If you want my opinion, we need to get that device out of his hands and into British possession,” the Minister of Defense replied.
“Yes, I’ve been wrangling with that very idea. The problem is twofold. Sir Colt Andrews was just knighted by the queen, so he’s highly revered by Her Majesty, but at the same time he’s an American citizen. If push comes to shove can we really count on him giving us the staff and not his native country?”
“Sir, we’ve taken him and the two others with him to a secure location. I have a team that that’s ready to take the device by force if necessary.”
“Are you sure that’s needed? I don’t want to have to explain to the queen why we attacked one of the nation’s most revered researchers,” the Prime Minister responded.
“I’m sorry but Sir Colt Andrews’s standing in British society really shouldn’t be a factor. We’ve both seen the destructive power of that staff. And right now it’s in the hands of a non-militarily trained American scientist on British soil. We would be derelict in our duty as British soldiers if we didn’t take it by any means necessary,” the Minister of Defense replied heatedly.
“He’s right. Something like this could go for millions on the black market. If this Colt character for some reason decides he wants to cash in, once the staff leaves the country it would become virtually untraceable,” the head of MI-6 stated from her cushy black office chair.
“Have any of you just asked him for the bloody staff?” Tony Wilson asked.
“We have and he is reluctant to hand it over. Plus, if anyone tries to take it by force they get electrocuted and for some reason it only works in his hands. Not that I’m suggesting this, but it appears that as long as he’s alive the staff only responds to his touch. If he was to die however…” the Minister of Defense said trailing off.
“If he was to die, we’d have to find someone trustworthy who could control the staff’s powers for us. That’s what you’re saying, right?” Tony Wilson asked.
“Yes sir,” the Minister of Defense confirmed. “But as of now I’m not suggesting we kill him. I just think we should have the device in our hands. However, accidents in a military exercise of this type have been known to happen,” he added.
“There’s still another issue that we haven’t discussed,” the head of MI-6 interjected.
“And that is?” Tony Wilson replied.
“Once we received the call from our head of museums Mr. George Stonewall, asking for a military rescue of Colt’s team, we’ve been tracking all of their communications ever since. One of Sir Andrews’s messages included a photo from where the staff was found. Based on our translation of the old style Greek script, there are possibly five more of these types of devices hidden around the world,” the MI-6 director added.
“Tell me you know where the other five are hidden,” Tony Wilson charged.
“Unfortunately no. Each of Zeus’ five mythological brothers’ and sisters’ names are only listed alongside a crude location of where their burial temple
might be. Based on the existence of Colt’s lightning staff, I believe we need to pool all of our resources in finding the other five locations,” she finished.
“What a day,” the Prime Minister said rubbing his tense forehead. “Mythological gods leaving behind real treasures and now we’re discussing stealing one of them from Sir Andrews or even worse, maybe having to kill one of our national heroes, all for the sake of national security.”
The Minister of Defense and the head of MI-6 exchanged looks while the Prime Minister paced the room thinking. Eventually he stopped with a decision in mind. “I want that staff taken no matter the cost. We can’t risk it being sold, taken to America or worse. Do it tonight while they’re asleep and be careful. I don’t want Colt or any of his team harmed if possible. Are we all on the same page?”
The Minister of Defense and the head of MI-6 nodded in agreement and began planning the midnight incursion to gain ownership of the lightning staff.
Chapter
7
“This doesn’t feel right Colt,” Dominic flatly stated.
“What part? The part where we’ve been shoved in this empty room with guards outside the door or the part where we’re in possession of what the Brits think could be another weapon in their arsenal? You know they weren’t very pleased when I basically told them they weren’t getting their hands on it.” Colt returned.
“I wish there was a better way to spin the situation we’re in, but I don’t think this ends well for us,” Hillary added. She looked over at the fully unsheathed lightning staff, which was leaning against the bed Colt was sitting on. From the moment the guards had gruffly escorted them into the large bunk room filled with over twenty empty beds, Colt had not let the staff rest more than ten inches away from his reach.
Hillary sighed at their mundane accommodations as she took in the room’s complete lack of color. In only a slight deviance from the bland white concrete walls and asbestos tilled floor, there was a green door at the far end of the bunk room. The door led into a community bathroom equipped with multiple toilets, showers and sinks, all in various shades of white and grey.