Righteous Sacrifice

by Timothy Van Sickel

  Chapter 26, Chaffed

  West side of Laurel Mountain

  10/11

  Trapped in their safe quarters, the Chaffe family tries to put on a good face. They own thousands of acres on the western side of Laurel Ridge and control thousands of more acres through their non-profit conservancy. Their private club has hosted the who’s who of politics and business over the years, their fortune dating all the way back to the heyday of the Pittsburgh Steel empires. They are the descendants of the Lemmon banking family.

  Within a few days of the EMP event, all Chaffe family member in the United States had been gathered to their mountain retreat through prearranged systems. Some of those travels had been chaotic, but over seventy people were brought to the estate. Almost a dozen members of the family were overseas, some on business, a few traveling, a few in European universities. Plans are still in action to bring them home. But there may not be a safe home for them to come to.

  The Chaffes are a long time member of the upper echelons of society and politics. They have been part of the establishment that has influenced the United States government and its policies for years. Through their lobbyists and sometimes with a phone call to the right person, tax law and regulations are tweaked to ensure their power and influence continues. A bill that could have been one-hundred pages long turns into a two-thousand page quagmire because of people like the Chaffes.

  And because they have billions in assets, and lawyers beckoning to their every call, they have grown richer at the expense of the country that made them rich to begin with. Their foundation actually owns more land than they do, but because it is a nonprofit foundation, that land is their own tax free playground. They helped write the laws, so everything they have done is legal. A lot of these laws and regulations have deprived new businesses and small banks with the ability to compete, but has kept the Chaffes and the other elites wealthy.

  The Chaffes saw that a societal collapse was coming. Like Paul and Eve, they figured an economic meltdown was most probable. They figured out that the lower classes would not be content with handouts and stagnant wages forever. So they hired people to build them a safe place, just in case it all came crumbling down.

  The Chaffes are not just part of the one percenters. They are the top one percent of the one percenters. The elite of the elite. And they prepared in the way an elite would prepare. Contractors were hired to excavate and build an intricate underground complex, deep into the hillside.

  Water supply systems, air purification systems, power systems, remote cameras, EMP proof systems, remote access tunnels and escape hatches were all built in, with redundancy backup systems. Food, water and medical supplies were all stockpiled. They even had made contracts with two well-known doctors and additional medical staff as well as an elite chef and her staff to be housed in their bug out shelter. Their Laurel Mountain complex is the best and most elaborate complex, but they also have homes in Belize, Switzerland and New Zealand, all prepped for disaster too.

  Within hours of the EMP attack, their security people knew what had happened and began moving people and preparing the bugout complex. Anything burned out was replaced and anyone that could be brought in was gathered. Their people were well paid to do what they were asked to do. Most people on their security team are decorated veterans. For the first few weeks things ran smoothly. The extended family actually remained in the main house, nestled in the heavily forested mountains.

  By the end of September true emergency protocols needed to be implemented. The farms around them that helped supply meat, vegetables and milk, as well as feed for their small beef, pig and sheep herds started to come under siege from people coming out of Pittsburgh. Their security people won an hours long debate and got them all moved into the underground shelter.

  The next day, the remote cams started to show people on their property. At first they saw some of their neighbors, people they know casually, walking about, checking in the barns and out buildings, eventually knocking on the massive front door of the palatial home. Some of the Chaffes wanted to let them in. But that is against the protocol system that had been set up. They are to hunker down, let it all blow over.

  Three days later the Chaffes are deep underground in their elaborate safe space when they watch on the remote cams as their beloved home is deliberately attacked by marauders. It is not a large group, scavenging to survive. It is a small group of maybe two dozen people. Many are tactically dressed, and move like trained soldiers. At one point, one of the security cams catches a good view of one of their leaders. He is recognized as the owner of a firm that did a lot of excavation work for the bugout bunker.

  Five minutes later, through remote accesses, hidden across the property, sniper teams are in place. Moments later five members of the attackers are dead, including their leader. Back in the compound, some cheer, some gasp, as they watch it all on remote cameras.

  Another five minutes pass and a serious discussion is taking place in a remote area of the underground compound. “One of those guys was a contractor on this job,” one of the security specialists states. “We can expect more attacks to come. I recommend that we restrict the remote feed to the control room. It won’t be good for our clients to see the results of those attacks. It will be very disturbing to them.”

  “People are going to realize we have food. The people who worked for the Chaffes, they will figure it out. It doesn’t matter how much they paid them back then to keep it quiet. What matters to them now is what we have, what they know we have.”

  Major Jeffers, a forty five year old retired Special Forces officer agrees. The psychological effects on their protectees will be a detriment to their mission. He has been with the Chaffes for three years. He is a loyal man. He was hired at a great wage to protect the Chaffes. He will do what he needs to accomplish that mission. Allowing his employers to see what he actually may need to do could compromise his ability to carry out his mission.

  After a brief talk with the family leader, all live feeds accessible to the protectees are cut. The once elite family, that had their hand in major decisions made around the world, are now captives in their own palace, with no idea of what is even happening on their own land. The biggest complaint from the family is about their precious horses. A few horses are quartered in the bugout complex, for patrolling and communicating. The rest of their prized steeds, the jumpers and the prancers, are sent to pasture to fend for themselves.

  As more people come onto the Chaffes land, their animals are killed and eaten, a few of their prized horses end up in the stew pot; some are kept as steeds for the invading looters.

  * * *

  Three days ago, thing turned really bad. Another band of people showed up on the complex. This was not a band trying to feed itself, like most of the others. This was a band determined to get in and take what the Chaffes have.

  Several hundred people set up camp on one of their fields and occupied a large barn complex. They sent out scouts who find remote cameras and snip the feed. Major Jeffers sends out men to snipe at this group; he does not have the man power to move them out.

  Over two days, the maraudering group expands it’s scouting, despite losses from Major Jeffers’ sniper teams. The Major knows the end game is near. This group knows they are on the Chaffe property and that there is something worth taking here. Why else would they be seeking out remote cameras and access points? One of his last cams show a group digging in on the front lawn of the mansion. His men kill three men trying to disable the house cams.

  At three AM a rush by the siege crew catches him unprepared. His men kill many of the looters, but there are too many, they breach the defenses and cut the last of the security cameras mounted on the house itself. Major Jeffers and his twenty man security detail are now blind as to what is happening on the grounds they are to protect. Four of the eight remote access ports have been discovered. The tunnels leading to those sally doors had to be blown to keep out the marauders. With only four means of egress remaining
, and the siege crew outside bearing down, the major is seriously worried if they should stay in the bunker. He sends out two of his best men. One to scout in the local area, to see what’s happening on some of the neighboring estates. The other he sends to scout the resorts on the east side of Laurel Mountain.

  In the meantime, he meets with the heads of the family. He shows them some of the final recordings from the security cameras and details to them the seriousness of the situation. “As you can see there are hundreds of people camped out on the estate who are bent on getting in. As I showed you, this morning they finally overwhelmed our defenses of the main house. As we speak your home is being occupied by these looters.

  “What concerns me most is the methodical way they have done it. Will they be satisfied with just taking the house, or do they know about this bunker? We already know one of the contractors who helped build this place tried to attack us. Did some of those people recruit a bigger force? Are they after the bunker, not the house? I don’t know the answers to those questions. If they know about the bunker, and that is their goal, then we need to explore our options.”

  Dean Chaffe is flabbergasted. “This bunker is impenetrable! We invested several million dollars in this fortress. We used the same specifications that were used to build Weather Mountain in West Virginia. You can’t tell me some locals will be able to get in here. That’s preposterous!”

  “This bunker is quite impressive,” the Major responds. “But no fort is impenetrable. Especially when the people who built the fort are the ones trying to overrun it. Given time, they will get in.”

  One of the Chaffe daughters begins to sob hysterically. After she had seen the violence on the video files and now hearing that their safe space may not hold, she breaks under the pressure. Dean consoles her for a bit, but she will have nothing to do with him. Major Jeffers eventually has to have the hysterical woman removed from the room.

  A discussion ensues as to the viability of their bunker. The main thing that is pointed out, is that Mount Weather has a full battalion of men assigned to protect it, five hundred soldiers. The major only has twenty soldiers.

  “But your men are supposed to be the elite,” Dean Chaffe responds. “Army Rangers and such. I say you get out there and kick these locals in the ass. Take them out! Kick them the hell off our land. That is what you were hired to do Major! Do your job! Get these peasants out of my house and off my land. Do it now!”

  The majors begins to respond but is cut off. “Your job, Major is to protect us. You need to kick these looters off our land. End of discussion.” Dean Chaffe escorts the three other senior family members out of the command center.

  Major Jeffers looks at his XO and senior NCO. “Well, we have our orders people,” he says lowly.

  “We can take these looters out boss, you know that,” states his XO.

  “I know, but these aren’t Muslim extremists that want to kill because their version of God tells them to. These are American citizens trying to survive.”

  “And so are the Chaffes. And they are who hired us,” she replies

  The Major sits quietly for several moments. He is sick to his stomach at either choice. Go against his word to his employer or fire on his fellow Americans.

  “Set it up XO. We have it all planned out and rehearsed. Execute it. We were hired to protect the Chaffes. Like the man said, we need to do our job. Maybe that will scare off anyone else that tries to breech this property.

  At four in the morning eighteen highly skilled soldiers exit the bunker and set up positions around the Chaffe property. By five AM two refugee outposts have been silently eliminated and the teams have moved into position. The senses of the eighteen soldiers are on edge as the ambush is about to take place.

  Four explosions begin the start of the massacre. Four grenades are rolled into the looters main defensive positions. As soon as the first grenade explodes, two teams of SAW gunners begin firing on any armed responders. People from a few of the squatters tents roll out and begin to return fire. Two designated snipers start to return fire on this slim resistance. They try to avoid firing on women and children, but anyone bearing arms is deemed a fair target, even armed combatants fleeing the encampment

  As the four explosions rock through the heavily wooded valley, the six man team assigned to clear the main house begin their assault. The four looters assigned as security had been eliminated before the assault began. Six highly trained soldiers quickly take down the remaining two dozen men and a few woman occupying the main house. Most looters are caught flat footed in the main living room. The rest are brought down or captured in the room to room search that follows. A man and woman in the Chaffe’s master bedroom put up a fierce resistance but are killed by two fragment grenades, which also destroys the ornate boudoir.

  Within minutes the main assault team is retreating back to the Chaffe’s mansion. Two men are left behind to report back later. Those same two men have spare cams and tools to repair as much of the security system on the grounds as they can on their retreat.

  Once the team has rallied back at the main house, security is set up and serious defenses are laid in. One team sets to replacing more security cams while another begins setting up claymore mines and other defensive measures. The line of Americans fighting Americans has been crossed. Major Jeffers and his team are now willing to take extreme measures to protect the Chaffes, and themselves. But there is still a sickening pit in their stomachs as they routinely do what they are trained to do. The next assault on the main house will be very costly to the attackers.

  At midmorning, Major Jeffers’ local scout that he sent out the day before returns, and her news is grim. Ligonier is in shambles; looted, occupied and half burned down. The old frontier fort was actually used as a fort by the locals. It too is also burned to the ground. The scavengers, refugees and looters from Pittsburgh and its suburbs are everywhere. Small battles are taking place at a few defended homes and farms, but for the most part, the locals, including the wealthy landowners are either allowing the looters to do what they want, or have fled.

  She does report of hearing that a safe trading area has been established in Donegal, but reports are that it is extremely bizarre and may fall into anarchy any day as more people show up. She also reports that the chaos spreads all the way back to Pittsburgh as people flee a burning and chaotic city. A few small towns have been red flagged with typhoid and cholera and even the looters avoid them.

  “Any word of the military or the government setting up a safe area?” the Major asks.

  “Not that I saw. There are no bases in the area and the Guard and Reserve units have been overrun or have blended into the community. Major, it is worse than Iraq after Saddam fell. There is no government, no controlling authority. What people told me is horrifying. We are only just seeing the start of the chaos, Major. We need to hunker down or get out.”

  “We hunkered down this morning. We took back the main house as you see, but we probably killed over a hundred people doing it.” The major shakes his head, the thought of killing Americans still turning his stomach.

  “Those hundred you killed this morning will be replaced tenfold within two days,” the scout responds. “From what I’ve heard, everyone around here knows the Chaffes have a well-supplied bunker. There is a big X on this spot marking it as a treasure trove.”

  “And there is nowhere to run to. Take a hundred people into the hills to live off the land and survive through the winter with no shelter? Trek over the mountain into the Laurel Highlands? There’s nothing there.”

  “You may be wrong in that supposition, major,” the scout responds. “Have you heard back from Red?”

  “Nothing yet, why?”

  “Rumors are floating that the Laurel Highlands have established some kind of mini-state. The information is sketchy. Some say it’s a commune run by militant farmers, others say it’s cult following of a one legged dictator. Better yet, some say the military and FEMA still has control of the area, because
of the Flight 93 memorial and all the military posts in Johnstown. But none of that is solid, major. It’s all hushed rumor.”

  The major looks at his trusted scout as questions run through his head. Complete chaos and a lack of information is a commander’s worst situation. He turns his attention back to what he can control, the Chaffe’s property. He takes in reports from his XO on how the perimeter has been reinforced. Still, his mind wonders, because he knows they will need to bug out.

  Chapter 27, Over There

  Laurel Mountain Ridge

  10/12

  Red has probed the position four times, and each time he knows, if he continues on horseback, he would be discovered. He could ditch the horse and go by foot, but he would never cover as much ground as he needs to cover. ‘Who is watching this mountain, this friggin dirt road?’ he asks himself. He decides to walk up and find out.

  Now, at two AM, back on Hickory Flats road, a dirt road that crests Laurel Ridge in the middle of nowhere, he walks his horse towards a roadblock he can’t see. His senses tell him that he is being watched. He has dealt with worse in the Kashmir province in the Himalayans. Americans are way more predictable and understanding than Kashmir separatists. So he plods on.

  Red gets his nickname from his skin color, not his hair color. He is a thirty-two year old Indian immigrant with six years in the Indian army, then another four years with the American army because of his linguistic skills, and the opportunity for US citizenship. A year ago he took his citizenship oath, brought his wife and two kids to America and then joined up with Major Jeffers. His wife serves as part of the wait staff for the Chaffes, even though she has a PHD in child psychology.

  Red keeps his horse moving forward. They will stop him when they are ready to.

  “Stop there, stranger. Dismount and hold your hands high,” a voice calls out.