Finally, he has two hundred men only fifty yards from the big sprawling house. Even though they are still under sporadic yet effective gunfire, he issues the order for the final assault. What he witnesses astounds him. As previously planned, from their close positions, the assault troops are to rush the mansion and overwhelm the defenders. Mac watches as several hundred people rush the large imposing building.
He is filled with enthusiasm by the men around him as their people make their final rush at victory. Then several loud explosions are heard. Mac sees dozens of his men mowed down with each explosion. He hears more explosions from all around the house. The elation of victory turns to horror as they watch dozens of their men fall with each blast.
But the people sieging the Chaffe compound are desperate. They know of the chaos, starvation and disease that is ravaging the countryside. They are desperate to take the mansion, so they press on, through the carnage caused by the claymore mines, and make it to the walls of the Chaffe citadel. Gunfire and explosions continue to ring out around the mansion as Mac’s people begin to pour in through blown out doors and windows.
His entourage begins to cheer and the one hundred man occupying team rushes up with concrete saws and other breaching equipment to break into the vast underground complex. His flunkies are high fiving Mac as the final breach is about to begin. Mac has a distinct foul taste in his mouth and a clearly unsettled stomach. He knows what is going on is wrong, but he is still caught up in the enthusiasm of his lieutenants.
He turns his eye up the hill to watch the last of his breaching team enter the Chaffe mansion to begin looting the house and searching for the entrance to the vast underground complex. He is blinded by a massive explosion. The entire left wing of the house disintegrates in a ball of fire. While still staring at the colorful balloons in his eyes, the shockwave knocks him off his feet. He hears several more explosions as the massive home implodes, killing most of the men and women inside. Unknown to Mac, his ears start to bleed, and he begins to convulse due to the concussion from the massive blasts.
Mac’s vision begins to return as he stares at what used to be a twenty thousand square foot mansion. He realizes that the estate has been imploded. Rather than let its riches fall into someone else’s hands, the owners have blown it up. It quickly runs through his head how many people have died. They died because of him; his wife, his daughter, and now countless more. He finds his pistol, puts it to his temple, and pulls the trigger.
Chapter 39 Contacts
Bakersville
10/17
At the outpost on top of Laurel Mountain, the elderly, the sick and the young, along with a few escorts, are loaded into the back of a few trucks and driven the last five miles to the Bakersville Fire Hall. The rest of the Chaffe household and their armed escort, along with their horses and supplies are left to walk to the fire hall. They are escorted by four armed locals.
As they make their way slowly down the mountain, going in the other direction are two well-armed trucks and a couple of tractors pulling sand bagged farm wagons loaded with armed men and women. Major Jeffers only knows what Red told him about this community, this safe area, but he is already impressed. They are not going to allow their firefight to attract unwanted marauders.
The two farm tractors return from the mountain top just as the major and his entourage are passing another small roadblock at a bridge over the Pennsylvania Turn Pike. The major is astonished to see all the abandoned cars along the four lane highway. He sees a few haggard looking crews slowly moving both east and west along the interstate. Two dozen of these straggles are grouped up at the roadblock, waiting for permission to be escorted through the Laurel Highland safe area. He asks one of the guards about the travelers. Everyone who enters their territory is assigned an escort until they reach their destination, is the prompt response.
The two farm tractors with the sandbagged wagons stop and pick up fifty more of his people. A month ago, these people rode in limousines and private jets, even the chef was driven to town to pick up supplies. Now, they are grateful for a ride in a sand bagged hay wagon pulled by a 1957 Ferguson farm tractor.
As he starts off again with the last of his crew and the most fit of the Chaffe household, he hears a distant rolling rumble. Even though his trained ear knows it is a series of large explosions, he looks to the sky, hoping that it might be thunder, but he knows better. He knows Dean Chaffe just imploded his beloved homestead. The major has seen too much violence in his life to be a praying man, but he says a prayer for Dean and his wife. He also realizes that he is going to have to do a lot of talking when he gets to the fire hall they are headed towards.
* * *
Just before noon Major Jeffers and his crew turn down the road leading to the Bakersville fire hall. What he sees is almost pandemonium, with over two hundred refugees lined up at various tents, many of them loudly proclaiming their displeasure at being treated like cattle. Those complaining the loudest are members of the Chaffe family, he notes, and smirks a bit. There are many armed militia around that keep the crowd under control.
A woman from the first group of militia he passes stops him. “Sergeant Mostoller, sir, of the Laurel Highlands Militia. You are Major Jeffers sir, correct?” the woman asks professionally. The majors smiles at her and nods. She continues, “I am to escort you and Carl Chaffe directly to the command post. I am told you may have sensitive equipment with you. You are to bring that with you. You are to be allowed two additional men to come with you, as security.”
Carl, with the encoded satellite communications systems is not far behind him with two of his best men. The major sends for them. Five minutes later they all are in front of an agitated medic as he checks them all over for obvious signs of illness or disease. “Sorry for the inconvenience, sir. Everyone must be checked before we let them in. Cholera and tuberculosis have started to become problems elsewhere. We don’t want to deal with that here so everyone gets screened.”
Sergeant Mostoller turns to Carl. “All of your people will have to go through a complete screening before they can come in, especially since they will be coming in to settle, rather than passing through. Please don’t ask for special treatment, that won’t go well.”
Carl looks at her a bit bewildered, not expecting such a formal screening process. He begins to object, but the sergeant cuts him off quickly but politely. “You’re great, great, grandfather was an Irish immigrant, right?” Carl, a bit befuddled, nods. “He came through Ellis island. This is no different. Follow me Mr. Chaffe, Major. There are people here that want to meet you.”
They follow her past the lines of people and enter the large fire hall. They are handed plates of food and quart mason jars full of water as they are led down a hallway to a large office. They are met by a gregarious man who welcomes them warmly. He shakes all of their hands as he introduces himself. “Derrick Durant” he says, as he shakes their hands. When shaking Carl’s hand he adds, “I met your father, I helped out on the big conversion back in 08. How are Dean and Chelsea holding up?”
“They stayed behind,” Carl states grimly.
“I am not surprised,” Derrick replies softly. “Your dad was a tough man. He would not have wanted to leave the land he loved. But there is a time for everything. We’re all glad you’re here. We’ll do our best to make you all comfortable. Let me introduce you to my brother-in-law, General Mark Mays.”
* * *
Larson hands me a crutch as I stand to shake their hands. I lurch up from my seat on a large couch to ensure that I greet everyone. As they take notice my decapitated leg the room grows silent. I look down at the stump, now almost four weeks healed, and laugh. “We have all suffered hardships, gentlemen,” I state. “God took my leg, but he left me with many blessings. I like to count my blessings instead of dwelling on my losses. I have lost a brother and sister-in-law. My farm has been the site of several battles. But we have survived. And so have you. God is not done with us yet! So we should embrace as fellow sur
vivors!” I hobble about on my crutches and embrace all four of Carl’s team.
A few eyes get teary at this warm reception. These people have been through hell, and to walk into a group that welcomes them warmly was not expected, but is true to Red’s report.
Derrick, sitting down in his chair behind his big desk asks, “Where is Handele?”
“Red is dead,” the major states remorsefully. The room is respectfully quiet for a minute. The major continues, “He tried to talk down some locals from ambushing us. A bullet found a crease in his body armor, he bled out.” The major is weeping as he tells the story. “He could have just had our team take down the ambush, but the big hearted guy tried to negotiate. I told him we needed to stop the killing, so he tried to negotiate. It got him killed. I got him killed.”
The major weeps openly. As a Special Forces officer, he has led men in combat many times, and has lost men before. But the remorse of the loss of life always comes once the team has reached safety. The major replays everything in his mind and still feels guilty, but as he raises his head, he sees Carl and then he pictures the people he helped save; the ornery cook and his crew, the house servants, the Chaffes and their children and grandchildren. He wipes the last tear from his eyes. “Red did a good thing, he tried to stop the killing. It didn’t work. But he tried. ‘No greater sacrifice can a man make, but to lay down his life.’” Major Jeffers looks upward. “He laid down his life for his brothers, God. No greater sacrifice…”
The room stays quiet as the emotion and passion of the major overwhelms us all. He has lost a soldier and a good man. But only the Lord knows Red’s heart. We cannot judge. I pray that Red knew Jesus as his savior. He certainly emulated him in his deeds.
Major Jeffers breaks the silence. “Sorry to unload on you all, but Red was a good man. He told us we needed to come here. Let’s not let his work be in vain.”
I look up from my silent prayers. “Red did not lead you astray. You are safe here, for now. There is a societal collapse going on that will change the world. You experienced it. Hordes of people desperate to take what you have. We have established stability here, but sooner or later, people are going to try and take what we have.”
Derrick Durant chimes in at this point. “Carl, how are the other elite’s faring? We need to know if we can band with them or expect help from them.”
Carl looks to the major, he motions for him to tell what he knows.
Chapter 40, Mountain Top
Sideling Hill
10/17
The quiet stillness of the deep woods is eerie. The only sounds that can be heard are the rustling of the leaves in the gentle fall breeze. The turnpike is only a mile away, which would normally provide a background hum from the cars and trucks passing over the mountain crest. A flock of geese pass overhead, their honking heard while they are just specks on the horizon.
Zach leads a strong patrol of soldiers to the crest of Sideling Hill on old route 30. They have moved the last two miles on foot, knowing their trucks may alert any unfriendly patrols of their approach. One of his scouts returns to his command group.
“Just over the crest of the ridge are at least three men guarding the road. They have a makeshift road block and at least one farm truck. They are vigilant and alert.”
“Do they look like soldiers, are any of them in uniform?” Captain White asks.
“No sir, they look like locals,” the scout responds.
Sideling Hill is the ridge that separates Bedford County from the next county to the east. It rises to twenty eight hundred feet. It is the last major summit before hitting the smaller ridges of the eastern Allegheny Mountains. The Letterkenny depot is only thirty miles away. Controlling this mountain top is crucial. It will be the command and control point for the final operation and will be the communications hub as well, having direct line of site to White Mountain to the west.
Zach turns to Colonel Adkins. “Here is my suggestion, Ma’am. We send out two snipers crews on the flanks, then I’ll walk up there with a six man team, including a SAW team. After I make contact, I’ll signal for you to come up. You come up in the hummer with the deuce following you. We’ll set right here as a rally point in case it goes south.”
Colonel Adkins had never seen combat until she led the revolt against martial law in Bedford County. As a G4 staff member, she knows divisional tactics, not platoon and company tactics. She has to rely on the experienced but newly promoted Captain White. She works the plan through in her mind and it seems logical enough. “Okay, captain,” she replies. ”But let’s have our people start digging in here now, if this is our rally point.”
“That is already happening, Colonel. These soldiers have all been in combat. They started digging in as soon as we stopped here,” Zach responds.
She looks around and sees that the men and woman are all setting up positions, moving logs and rocks, or literally dig in. She is impressed. “Okay, captain, I approve of your plan.”
Twenty minutes later, with the snipers in place on his flanks, Zach and his team walk straight up the road towards the roadblock. Movement is clearly seen as they approach the broken down cars emplaced across the roadway. From a hundred yards away Zach hollers. “Hail to the roadblock, we come in peace. We bring news from Bedford.”
They see some scurrying of people and an old quad takes off down the mountain, away from them to the east.
After a long silence, a woman responds from the roadblock. “You got a lot of firepower to just be delivering news. What news do you have, soldier?”
“Bedford County is stable. We wish to reach out to Fulton County as friends. As for the arms, the world is a dangerous place now,” Zach responds.
The roadblock is quiet for a bit. Finally the woman calls out again. “You look to be military. What unit are you from?”
“We are all Reservists, National Guard or Ready Reserve. We are our own unit.” Zach replies. He knows his response may start a fire fight, or it may make a new alliance.
“Some of the Guard are trying to institute martial law,” the woman responds.
Zach ponders this vague response. Time to declare sides. “We are members of the Laurel Highlands Militia. We have fought against those who want martial law. Can we approach your gate to negotiate passage?”
“Why do you wish to pass this way if you have already beat down the martial law? Why travel to the east?”
“We seek new allies and new friends. That is why we came this way,” Captain White responds. He tells his radio man to have Colonel Adkins move forward.
“We are an emissary from Bedford and Somerset counties. We would like to meet with your leaders. Divided, we fall. If we unite, we can stand free. Bring up one of your captains so we can talk.” As Zach finishes this comment, Colonel Adkins pulls up in her hummer with the well-armed two ton truck in trail.
She steps out of her hummer and walks over to Zach. “What’s the hold up, Captain White?” She turns to the road block and addresses the woman in charge.
“We are looking to establish an alliance with Fulton County. I am Colonel Adkins, representing the Laurel Highlands Militia. Sergeant, please relay to your people that we are here and have them send a representative. We will make an encampment here until we hear from your leadership. Is that okay with you?”
The twenty something woman, who thought she was a hard ass, stands with her jaw agape as Colonel Adkins begins to take charge. “Give me an hour Ma’am, and I will have a guard captain here. You all do what you need to until he gets here, Okay?”
“You hungry, miss?” the colonel asks nonchalantly.
Meanwhile Zach calls the rest of his heavy platoon forward while relaying back to Bedford for an additional food truck and an aid truck to be sent forward.
“We are good on food, Colonel,” the woman responds. “But we could use some medical supplies.”
“We have a food team and a medical team on the way, Sergeant,” The colonel responds. “Let’s stop hollering from a hundred
yards apart. With your permission I will approach your team with a small security detail. Would that be okay?”
The young NCO nods, and Colonel Adkins moves up to the roadblock with her old hummer and six experienced soldiers. Zach organizes the rest of their team in a strong perimeter defense, before joining the two women.
Colonel Adkins has befriended the young woman while waiting for Zach to join her. This has put the woman and her two security people at ease. The colonel reassures them all that they are not taking orders from the National Guard and Fort Indiantown Gap.
“Those bastards demanded we give them food and supplies, saying they would be back to help us.” the colonel states. “That was three weeks ago. We haven’t heard a thing since then. We have rallied our own militia together, with the help of the people from Somerset. Since they helped us out, we want to see if we can help out you guys. What’s the situation around here?”
“Those same bastards are bleeding us dry. They have been here three times demanding cattle, hogs and other food items. The last time through they didn’t even ask, they just raided farms and took the sausages, hams and other dried meats our people have started curing.
“This EMP thing has knocked everything down,” the woman continues. ”Our farmers, along with some old timers, started prepping our meats for winter storage. The biggest demand right now is for carpenters and wood to build smoke houses. Then the bastards roll in with two heavy convoys and take our food. They say it is needed to feed the troops trying to stop the anarchy in Harrisburg and in the counties outside of Philadelphia. Apparently it is complete anarchy in a lot of areas and the Guard is trying to quash the mayhem by imposing martial law.”
Righteous Sacrifice Page 24
