by Ryan Hartung
“What did you do, Vlad?” Pavel asked, while bending down to scoop up one of the Chinese soldier’s rifles.
“I imagined them being infected with the Bubonic plague,” he thoughtfully responded.
Pavel stopped examining the Chinese rifle in his hands and looked up at his leader. “How’d you know how to do that?” he asked.
“I, I don’t know. I just sort of did. It felt natural,” Vladimir answered, unsure himself.
During the entire exchange of words between the Russians and Chinese along with the actions leading up to it, Cliff Barns had been waiting for his chance to be of use. With only one Russian holding a weapon, Cliff felt this might be his only possibility. Slick as water on ice, he pulled the gun from the back of his pants and leveled it directly at Pavel.
“Hands up, Russian!” Cliff yelled with bravado. The Colonel caught Pavel off guard, once again engrossed in examining the Chinese manufactured gun, and dropped the rifle as commanded. The gun clicked as its metal barrel bounced on the marble floor and came to a rest less than a foot from Pavel’s boot.
“Now kick it away,” he commanded. Pavel did as commanded and kicked the gun across the floor. Vladimir and Natalya watched as Cliff then ordered Dmitry to the same corner with Pavel, while kicking the remaining guns closest to them across the room.
“Did you not see what I did to the Chinese, Mr. American hero? Put down your silly weapon, or I will unfortunately have to do the same to you,” Vladimir weakly said. If he hadn’t been so sick, he would have spoken with a bit more humor in his voice, but simply getting the words out was hard enough.
“You’re not going to do anything of the sort,” Colt said as he up stood behind him. Natalya turned herself and Vladimir, so they could see the defiant voice to their rear. As they turned, they saw Colt standing with Hillary’s aid. It was almost like looking in a mirror. Hillary stared at Natalya while Colt locked eyes with Vladimir. Just like the Russian, Colt had one arm draped around Hillary’s neck while the other was clutching the again deeply purple glowing lightning staff.
“So, one ancient weapon against another?” he said, raising a questioning eyebrow.
“Nope, I understand you’re a little out of it, and you obviously haven’t been paying much attention to your surroundings, but you should look at your own artifact,” Colt said with a smile.
Curious at the American’s words, Vladimir and Natalya both looked down at the artifact hanging around his neck. Sure enough, the ebony sphere was no longer glowing its normal emerald green hue, but was instead throbbing a deep almost black purple just like the Lightning Staff.
“Why?” Vladimir mouthed in between another fit of coughing. His back seized up and down as he searched for air, growing sicker by the minute.
“I’m guessing that for whatever reason when two or more of these artifacts are in the same proximity, there’s some sort of mechanism that stops them from being used against each other. I saw the staff changing colors the closer I brought it to the chain you are now wearing. When I’m holding the staff, it’s normally a bright golden yellow, but as we marched down the steps outside and into this room the color changed to orange, then red, then blue, and finally this dark purple. I’d guess if we put them within a millimeter of each other, their unnatural coloring would all but disappear,” Colt informed the sickly Russian.
“Well, it appears that we are at a standoff then,” Vladimir wheezed. “What is it that you propose?”
“Drop the artifact back on the pedestal, and we’ll let you walk out of here,” Cliff said from the other side of the room, without taking his hands off the Russian prisoners. “Obviously you’re in strong need of medical attention, so just give us what we want and be on your way. We won’t stop you.”
“I believe you, but this artifact is just as important to us as it is you. You will have to take it from me, but I think we both know you won’t do that,” Vladimir hoarsely scraped and tapped the corpse of the Chinese commander with his foot for emphasis.
Colonel Cliff Barns was about to give a rebuttal to the Russian’s uncooperative nature, when he received out of the blue a quick punch to his torso from his Chinese captive, sending him to the floor. The kick drove the gun out of his hands and to the ground by Pavel’s feet. Pavel speedily reached for the gun, while at the same time from the floor, Cliff pulled his smaller spare pistol from the holster on his ankle.
Both Cliff and Pavel leveled their weapons and pointed them at the other simultaneously.
“What we have here is what you Americans call a Mexican standoff,” Pavel said in thickly Russian accented English.
“It looks like we will be going now,” Vladimir said with finality to Colt. He took a small step toward the door with Natalya’s help then another and another. Colt could tell from the heaving of the Russian’s back that each step was excruciatingly painful and was taking him a tremendous amount of energy and effort.
While the Russians assisted their leader to the massive stone slab door, Cliff and Pavel continued their standoff. Eventually Vladimir and Natalya disappeared around the other side of the white marble door. Dmitry, still unarmed followed after them. Once he knew his countrymen were on the other side of the doorway, Pavel slowly began walking backward, still locked in a visual duel with Cliff.
“Looks like we win this round,” Pavel taunted as he reached the marble door.
“Maybe this time, but I guarantee you we’ll meet again,” Cliff responded.
Pavel grunted a laugh before he too disappeared behind the marble slab. At the other end of the corridor, where the outside’s afternoon light was shining down the marble stairs, Dmitry, Natalya, and Vladimir were waiting for him.
“We cannot allow them to follow us,” Vladimir rasped. He glanced down at the ancient relic. A brighter aqua blue had now replaced the ancient artifact’s dark purple glow, its power returning, as the distance between him and Colt grew. Not wanting to kill the Americans, who had not tried to kill them, Vladimir envisioned Colt covered with painful boils, unable to move.
In the adjoining room, Colt and the others watched the Lightning Staff grow brighter, as the Russians moved further away.
“Aren’t you going after them?” Leonardo asked Colt.
“It’s two against one,” Cliff replied. “In case you failed to notice, all three of those boys were military. I’m not going to stick my head out of here just to get it blown off. You only fight the battles you know you can win.” He ignored the Italian’s glare and started attending to the deathly ill Chinese soldiers lying on the floor; only if they were all dead would he think about going after the Russians alone.
Before any of them beside Cliff had a chance to move, an emerald green mist raced around the door, heading straight for Colt. While he was in a crouched position over one of the sick Chinese soldiers, Cliff watched as the snake-like trail of bright green vapor covered Colt’s body. The vapor curled around his body, but then just as quickly as the vapor had appeared it was gone.
Colt fingered along his clothes and face, and felt relief that nothing appeared out of the ordinary.
“What was that?” Dominic exclaimed.
“I think that Russian was trying to infect me with something,” Colt replied.
“Are they trying to get your staff?” Hillary wondered aloud.
“I’d bet not,” Cliff interjected. “My guess is they’re worried about us trying to follow them, and they’re just trying to slow us down. Too bad, they picked Colt as their target though. I think that staff of his just canceled out their attack.”
On the other side of the door, Pavel listened for evidence that Vladimir had infected Colt as he’d intended.
“Nothing happened,” Pavel whispered to the others. “They think his staff blocked your sphere.”
“Fine. One last try and then we have to find help. I feel I’m getting sicker every minute,” Vladimir uttered barely above a whisper. He thought again of the boils, but this time he envisioned everybody in the room bein
g infected, both the Americans and the Chinese. As before, within the depths of the black orb hanging from his neck, an emerald green cloudy haze began to swirl before shooting out of the sphere and toward the marble slab.
Inside the room, Colt noticed the green haze before anyone else and yelled, “Grab on to me everyone!” Instinctively and without pause Dominic, Cliff, and Leonardo all jumped at the order toward Colt’s body. Hillary, still at his side, clutched his arm even harder as the mist approached and devoured the room.
Immediately, they heard a scream of pain before the green vapor disappeared back into nothingness. They each turned toward the scream and saw Leonardo thrashing on the ground in pain, covered by boils.
“It’s boils,” Leonardo screamed in agony as large painful red sores began covering his body. “I didn’t get to you quick enough,” he lamented through clenched teeth.
Seeing Leonardo in such pain, Hillary instinctively left Colt’s side to see if she could help. For the moment, Leonardo needed her assistance more than her boyfriend did.
“Is everybody else okay?” Colt asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine I guess,” Dominic said and then coughed. “Maybe I feel a little under the weather, but I’ll live.”
“I’ve felt better,” Cliff sniffed, feeling slightly rundown himself. “Thanks for warning us. I think we would’ve been like Leonardo if we hadn’t been hanging on to you and your staff had helped protected us.”
On the other side of the marble slab, the Russians heard Leonardo’s painful screams and knew it was time to leave.
Chapter
10
“Dmitry, grab my other side and help me up the stairs,” Vladimir ordered, although it sounded more like a plea for help than an actual command. With Natalya holding one side and Dmitry holding the other, they carried Vladimir to the top of the long staircase. Pavel covered their rear with the team’s only gun left in his possession, watching with an eagle eye in case the Americans chose to follow.
“Set me down, I need to rest,” Vladimir wheezed after reaching the summit of the stairs. Natalya and Dmitry carefully set their leader on the hard ground, where he immediately lay on the solidified volcanic rock to catch his breath. His labored breathing was weak but steady. Vladimir instinctively wanted to roll his head back and forth to survey his surroundings, but his body said no.
“We can’t carry him all of the way out of here,” Pavel said to Dmitry and Natalya. “One of us needs to go find some help.”
Dmitry scanned the area, remembering seeing the American’s digging machine before they had initially descended the stairs. Sure enough, about a hundred yards to their left sat the idled Bobcat. Dmitry jogged over to the small vehicle and was pleased to find the key was still in the ignition. He jumped into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. Instantly the Bobcat sprang to life. With a full tank of gas and the vehicle seemingly in brand new condition, Dmitry knew they had found their answer.
Spraying dust and debris behind him, Dmitry sped the small four-wheeled digging machine toward the others. “Put him in the scoop,” he said in reference to Vladimir. “We can drive him to the top of the rim and then to our car in this.”
“Good work, Dmitry,” Vladimir whispered. For all of the times Dmitry had caused him headache after headache, he had made up for it in one fell swoop. Gently, Dmitry and Pavel lifted their disease-ridden commander and set him in the scoop. Dmitry repositioned himself behind the wheel and started speeding the small digger across the bumpy landscape.
Vladimir groaned in pain as the Bobcat hit each bump and divot on the rocky ground but knew the rough ride was the only way out. Eventually the Bobcat found a crude path to the top of the crater, where the terrain was noticeably smoother. As Dmitry drove Vladimir up the volcano’s rim, the speed of the Bobcat forced Natalya and Pavel to jog behind it. Each of them knew the quicker they retreated out of the foreign country the better. Between the Americans down below, their intrusion on Italian soil and the declining health of Vladimir, time was not a luxury they could afford to waste.
After reaching the crest of the volcano, the Russians drove the Bobcat to where the rocky ledge was hiding their supplies underneath its darkened recesses. They softly laid their packs around Vladimir’s wretched looking body in the Bobcat’s scoop before driving down the mountain. Unlike before, when they had scaled the volcano’s less visible side without a path to follow, this time with the Bobcat and Vladimir unable to walk, they were forced to follow the manmade road with the Italian checkpoint waiting up ahead.
***
Cliff moved back and forth from one Chinese soldier to the next, checking for a pulse or other signs of life. As if the Bubonic plague’s infection wasn’t horrible enough, the painful boils were covering each plague-ridden Chinese soldier the same as Leonardo.
“This one’s dead,” Cliff announced as he moved to the next victim. So far, out of the five Chinese soldiers, Cliff had found two who were barely alive and two who were dead. He crawled to the last soldier’s side and felt for a pulse, nothing. He then laid his head on the soldier’s chest and listened for a heartbeat or shallow breathing, but to his sorrow this soldier was dead too.
“Alright, we’ve got two Chinese soldiers barely alive and Leonardo who can barely move. We’re going to need some medical help in here for all three of them,” Cliff said summing up their situation.
“Maybe we can use the walkie-talkie the Italians gave to Leonardo to call for help,” Dominic suggested.
Leonardo heard the suggestion and grunted in agreement. He tried reaching into his belt buckle to undo the walkie-talkie’s belt clip, but the pain from one extremity rubbing against the other was more than he could bear.
Dominic bent down, seeing the Italian struggling to move, gently removing the device for him. Dominic depressed the button, but there was only static.
“You’re going to have to go outside if you want any reception,” Cliff advised while checking on one of the still living Chinese soldiers. Dominic took his advice and left the room with Colt following close behind with the Lightning Staff. While the Russians continued their retreat from the area, Colt had watched the staff morph from its unusual darker colors to the lighter shades of pink and orange before resuming its normal pulsating golden-yellow radiance.
Once outside of the dimly lit corridor and even darker rear chamber, Colt and Dominic both inhaled deep breaths of fresh air. Neither of them had realized how much the lower chambers smelled like death until breathing in the refreshing smells of Mother Nature.
“Try it now,” Colt advised. They were still only at the landing of the bottom of the long marble staircase, but now outside, Colt was hopeful the radio waves could reach its intended target without them having to trudge up the five story’s worth of hard steps.
“Hello, can anyone hear me?” Dominic asked into the radio while depressing the button. The speaker crackled with interference before a clear reply was received.
“Yes, we can year you. Who is this?” someone asked from the other end in Italian accented English.
“This is Dominic. I’m with Leonardo Sava. We need medical attention here. We have two Chinese soldiers that are very sick, and Leonardo is barely able to move. Please send help,” Dominic repeated again. He let go of the transmitting button and waited for a response. Hopefully the Italians would be quick in sending aid. If not, Dominic and Colt feared the two Chinese soldiers, who were dangerously close to death, would not last the day.
***
Through a mess of tangled trees and bushes, the Russian contingent was just now able to see the Italian checkpoint. Although forging a path through the trees and other foliage had been discussed, they agreed that time was of the essence. They had to go through the Italians.
Dmitry quietly drove the Bobcat into a secluded opening out of view of the main road.
“Natalya, you stay here with Vladimir. Dmitry and I will take out the guards at the checkpoint. When you hear me call your name, drive the Bobc
at down to the checkpoint and we’ll meet up there,” Pavel ordered the only non-military person in their small team.
Leaving Vladimir and Natalya hidden amongst the leaves, Pavel and Dmitry straddled the roadside, using the plants as coverage as they approached the crude checkpoint. From their vantage point it appeared only three Italian soldiers were on duty. Since there were only three soldiers and the Russians had the element of surprise on their side, Pavel and Dmitry knew they had the upper hand.
In the distance, they could see two of the guards were standing on one side of the road, while the third was talking to someone on a shortwave radio. Pavel motioned for Dmitry to join him on his side of the road, so they could take out the two guards standing next to each other at the same time.
Dmitry waited for the guards to turn toward the direction of the city and then sprinted across the road and into the bushes on the other side. The two Russians moved silently from bush to bush and tree to tree as they snuck up behind the unsuspecting Italians.
The third Italian soldier was still talking on the shortwave radio, his back for the moment turned to the other two. Pavel and Dmitry, without words using only hand gestures, sprang out and grabbed the two soldiers in tight sleeper holds. The veins in their arms bulged as the Italians squirmed in futility, eventually falling asleep in the Russians’ thick arms.
They gently set the sleeping Italians on the weathered pavement and approached the only soldier left. Pavel pulled their lone weapon from the side of his belt, aiming at the Italian’s head as he approached. From the bits of English the Italian was speaking, Pavel knew he was talking to the Americans, who were no doubt informing the now lone soldier of their wounded and the Russian’s involvement in the attack.
Once Pavel was three feet from the back of the Italian’s head, he loudly cleared his throat. The Italian slowly turned, assuming it was one of his countrymen. Pavel watched as the soldier’s expressionless face morphed into that of shock as he saw the pistol pointed inches from his head. The moment he raised his hands in the air, Dmitry grabbed him from behind and began applying a steely sleeper hold. Soon the last Italian soldier was also fast asleep. As his arms went limp, he dropped the radio to the ground, and his consciousness faded into nothingness.