Righteous Sacrifice

by Timothy Van Sickel

  “Have they imposed martial law here?” Zach asks.

  “Yes and no. We are technically under martial law, but we ain’t buyin’ it. This is a farming community. And the farmers’ don’t like being told what to do. If the guard comes to raid our farms again, they will not be treated kindly, if you know what I mean.”

  “As a Colonel, I was on the general staff of the 28th division. I probably know the people who have been harassing you. We will help you fight them off,” Colonel Adkins responds.

  Zach returns to their perimeter, having a bad feeling, he wants to make sure they are ready for anything short of an active duty battalion. After checking the rally point, he relays back to Central City that they are firmly in positon on top of Sideling Hill. He sees movement at the roadblock and heads out that way.

  “Captain White, meet Mr. Zearfoss and Captain Warfield. Mr. Zearfoss is a county commissioner, like Miss Hodges. And the captain here is in charge of the security on the western ridge that we now occupy.” Handshakes and greetings are exchanged stoically.

  The first to open the conversation is Captain Warfield. “You got a fortified position on my hilltop! What gives you the right to set up a rally point with fifty heavily armed men on my hilltop?”

  Zach notices the First Calvary insignia on his right arm, indicating service in Iraq. He looks directly at the Captain. “You have been in the shit sir, when in the shit you always set up security everywhere you go. My men are just doing what they are trained to do. Those men are not a bunch of ragtag jokers, they are all experienced soldiers. And the shit we have seen over the last four weeks is worse than anything I saw in the sandbox. As long as you are not a threat to us, we are not a threat to you.”

  Captain Warfield eyes up Zach, then looks over to where the strong position is being further fortified. He grows a bit misty eyed as he turns back to address Zach. “I have grown so cold over the last few weeks, my friend. I have seen members of my own division turn into looters with a badge.” He reaches out to embrace Zach. ”I see that you are not one of those sanctioned looters. Are you an Oath Keeper?”

  “No, I am not. But if I had truly known then, what that meant, I would have been. Consider me one now,” Zach responds. Oath Keepers are a group of officers and HCO’s that have sworn allegiance to the constitution and each other in the event that they were given unconstitutional orders in a civil unrest event.

  “That is good enough for me,” Captain Zearfoss responds. “Your actions make you one more than words ever could.”

  Just then the support trucks arrive. Zach asks that they be given fifteen minutes to set up. During that time they all exchanges news and an informal alliance is begun. No word of the ultimate destination is breached by the Laurel Highland Militia. Their mission for the day is to make friendly contact. After a filling meal of sausages, cabbage and stewed apples, that mission is a success.

  As a sign of good faith, the aid truck with two skilled EMTs and an ER doctor, along with a security truck, are sent forward to Claysburg, the county seat. Meanwhile, the Laurel Highland Militia establishes a vital post for the move on the Letterkenny depot. Before night falls, the rally point is turned into a fortified position. By daylight, the fortified position is being turned into a forward combat base.

  Chapter 41, Move it now!

  UPJ Campus, Johnstown PA

  10/17

  For two days engineering professors and their students have studied the crane with its payload hanging seventy feet in the air. They all know the theory of the hydraulics and the dynamics of the load, but none of them have operated or worked on any heavy machinery. Meanwhile, Paul has explained the problem to a few strip mine operators. They put a massive tracked dozer in place to roll the twenty miles to the campus. They are supplied with ample diesel fuel from a trade worked out with big Paulie.

  Once on scene, the heavy machine operators then begin to figure out how to bypass the electronics on the massive crane. They swarm over the large crane, opening various hoods and compartments to investigate its internal mechanisms. Most of the electronic systems are for safety, and they can be easily bypassed. Other electronic systems are to make the crane operate more efficiently. Bypassing those systems is a harder challenge

  The engineers and the operators are now congregated around the massive crane. After their initial investigation of the machine, much to the dismay of the academic engineers, the operators decide to power up the hydraulic system. “Once we get pressure into the hydraulic system, then we can see if any of the controls work,” Paul explains

  The big diesel dozer pulls in place next to the crane. The students and engineering professors watch as the operators bypass the cranes engine and apply power to the crane’s hydraulic pumps from the big dozer. A strip mine operator climbs in the cab of the big crane. Everyone is moved back from the construction site. If the large beam falls, it will land on the partially built structure and potentially collapse it.

  “Test one,” the operator calls out, indicating he is going try a vertical movement of the payload. Nothing happens. “Test two,” The operator hollers as he tries to lower the bean. Again, nothing happens.

  Several designated people swarm the crane. For two hours they discuss what needs to be done. The final consensus is that the crane needs to be stripped of electronics, and its diesel engine fired up. After that, all the electronics from the hydraulics need to be stripped. A list is made of what is needed. Converting the crane from joystick operation to pedal and lever operation will be a huge task. They will need to do more than just find parts, they will need to make parts.

  With means of fabricating parts at a standstill, the situation looks grim. Paul resolves himself to helping restore a manufacturing base, even if it is blacksmiths and waterwheel driven machinery. America was built on innovation, it can be rebuilt on innovation, he vows. Later that evening, he lets the brain squad know they have a new problem to solve, kick starting small manufacturing.

  Chapter 42, The World

  Bakersville Fire hall

  10/17

  “How many people have one of these?” I ask Carl, holding the encrypted satellite phone in my hand.

  “A couple thousand to begin with,” Carl states. “I know, from our monitoring of transmissions, that many are now dead or inactive. The nuclear blasts that we know of wiped out half of the people on the system. Hell, New York and Washington being nuked took about five hundred of our people off the system. With the attacks on the other major cities around the world, I’d say less than five hundred people are still alive that are capable to communicate on this system.”

  “What about Weather Mountain and some of the other bug out locations for our government?” Derrick asks.

  “This system didn’t make them a priority, as we controlled them, but we do have one active node at Weather Mountain, and two at Cheyenne Mountain.”

  “Where else do you have these communications systems,” I ask.

  “All over the world!” Carl exclaims. “I thought I made that clear.”

  “Russia? China? South America? Australia?” I ask.

  “Yes, yes, yes and yes.” Carl states, getting a bit agitated. “That is a hardened sat-phone with the encryption to talk with the surviving elite around the world.”

  I look at my brother-in-law, Derrick, and nod.

  “We are going to move you and your family to a nice home just outside of Somerset,” Derrick states. “We will do our best to take care of your household. Captain Anders, our communications officer, will be visiting you to discuss monitoring your sat phone. Go and join your family in the mess hall. We’ll arrange transportation to your new home.”

  “Major, accompany Carl and his family through our mess line, then please return to this office for a full debrief,” I state. ”We’ll take over full responsibility for their safety.”

  The major nods to me. “I’ll be back here within the hour, sir.”

  * * *

  In the mess hall, Colonel Fisher is s
iting with a group of the major’s men, talking and listening to their stories. Captain Hutchins makes sure he finds a seat nearby another group of the major’s operators. The loss of Handele, Red, concerns them the most. But many cheer him for leading them to this place

  “These are good people, I could fight for these people,” is a direct quote that Captain Hutchin’s hears. “I’d fight to have that sweet young thing serve me more eggs and sausage’” proclaims another man. Captain Hutchins smiles, as the same sweet young girl takes his plate away.

  Captain Anders, after having been briefed on this great breakthrough in communications, meets up with Carl Chaffe and makes arrangements to begin cataloguing all communications over his satellite radio link.

  * * *

  Both Captain Hutchins and Colonel Fisher report back to Derrick and me that Major Jeffers and his men are legit and would be a valuable asset to our team. We discuss a recruiting strategy, and how to best use his team as we wait for the major to finish up his duties with the Chaffes.

  Almost exactly an hour after leaving our meeting, Major Jeffers returns with two wizened and hardened men. He notices our glances at his two extra men. As he calmly takes a seat, he answers our quizzical looks. “I have brought two of my senior men with me. You are going to recruit us to join your militia. These men deserve to know what’s going on. We operate as a team, but these are unusual circumstances. Some of my men are married with families and may wish to go their own way, or we may find it best to stick together, maybe with you, maybe strike out on our own.”

  The room is tense as everyone knows life changing decisions are about to be made. The major’s team is skilled enough and well enough equipped to head off on their own. They would be gladly welcomed into some other armed group, or they could hook up with a regular army unit, and help with the martial law decree. All these options go through my head as I try to decide how to open the conversation. But Colonel Fisher is not going to wait for me to process my thoughts

  “Your best bet, Major, is to stay right here,” Colonel Fisher states. “And I’ll tell you why. God is moving in this community. This community is moving with God. I don’t know if you believe in God, but if you do. There is no better ally than God. Two weeks ago, I would have scoffed at the statement I just made. But I know God now, I know Jesus as my savior. So does the General. I have seen things happen that are truly miracles. Look around you, you are being fed and cared for, the Chaffe’s are being looked after. The world is in turmoil, but here we are at peace.

  “The general is building an army to fend off the marauders and the martial law so people can live free. We saw martial law crush people’s spirits within days. The general has a plan. I am willing to follow it. I believe it is a good plan. God brought you here for a reason. I believe it was for you to put your skills to use in protecting these good men and women around you.”

  Major Jeffers looks Colonel Fisher up and down. The Colonel is an impressive man, fifty four years old, yet very fit. Tall and thin, but wiry, with eyes that penetrate the soul. He is a born leader and a natural soldier. His tours in Afghanistan and Iraq have hardened him, but his dedication to serve has only grown since America was attacked.

  The major’s eyes turn to me and he studies me closely. Just then, there is a knock at the door. Captain Huchtins opens the door and lets in two more of Major Jeffers men. A bit skeptically, the major states, “report what you have seen men.”

  “This is a good place, major. Like the colonel was telling us at breakfast. They are harvesting the fields and storing the crops. We travelled fast, and covered several miles. Everyone we talked to was working diligently, and at their own free will. The only gunfire we heard came from over the hill. This land is remarkably organized and peaceful.

  The major turns to me, a blank look on his face. I can tell he is trying to process what he has heard. “We are not an exclusive community of Bible belt Jesus freaks, major. We are an inclusive community of free thinkers. But we govern on biblical principles. Many of our group are pacifists, but we would be honored if your group joined us. Even the pacifists understand the need for self-defense.”

  The room goes quiet again. The major looks to his men. They give a slight nod. The major leans back in his seat and ponders for a few more seconds. He moves forward, to the edge of his sit. “How will my men be fed and equipped?” he asks.

  “Everything you brought with you is yours, whether you stay or go. With that said, our community supports our militia. They know that without the militia, they would be looking at anarchy or martial law. We saved them from that bleak experience. They gladly supply us with food and other needs.

  “We also have set up our own communications system, you will be briefed on that by Captain Anders, our S2. Our motor pool will be open to you, as well as our stables, missions permitting. Captain Hutchins here is my S3 in charge of operations, and Colonel Fisher is my Executive Officer. Anything you do will need to be coordinated with them. I make myself available as much as possible. I don’t move as fast as I used to, so you can probably catch me if you need to.” I chuckle a bit at the self-deprecating remark.

  “That all sounds good, but you didn’t mention ammunition. What about ammunition?” the major asks.

  “Save your brass, if you can,” Captain Hutchins responds. “We have a reloading system in place and are scavenging the scrap yards for lead. But ammunition will become scarce. That is a major concern.”

  “I guess that will be a concern no matter what path we choose,” the major states.

  He turns and looks at his men, then turns back to me. “I don’t run my unit as a democracy, but we do discuss major decisions amongst ourselves. You will have our decision within the hour.”

  “Fair enough, you can have the class room across the hall so your people can have some privacy to discuss your options.”

  The discussion does not take long. The major and his two lieutenants come back into our office. “You have the most persuasive negotiating tactics my men have ever seen. I do believe there is a God, and my men are convinced that He is on your side. Even so, two of my men, actually a man and a woman, have family in Fort Bragg, North Carolina. They are going to set out in that direction. They only ask for one weeks food supply, a HAM radio, ammunition and three horses. In return, you will have the commitment of my men to follow your orders for the next six months. We want the option to regroup in the spring.

  “We always operate by contract, General, I hope that does not offend you. We have written down our expectations and our obligations in return. We understand this is a new world, and we don’t expect to get rich helping you, we just hope to survive. The Chaffes’ had a good thing, but they got compromised. You have the best thing going that we have seen. The fact that you helped to stamp out the martial law decree here and in Bedford too, was the winning argument for us. We are Oath Keepers, we understand your actions, General.”

  “So if a regular army column rolls over the ridge, you will stand with us?” I ask pointedly.

  “If they are Oath keepers, they will join us. If they are not, they will be stopped,” the major states definitively.

  Derrick has been reading over the one page hand written contract. He looks to me. “It’s good Mark. They ask for room and board and arms as available. They also ask to be kept together as a unit unless there is prior consultation. I’ll put my name to it as a civilian official.”

  I grasp the side of the desk and stand, reaching for my crutch. I hobble from behind the large desk. For just a second the major’s eyes go wide as he sees my stump leg. He recovers quickly. “That’s a fresh wound, general,” he states.

  “Some wanna-be dictator, a bad ass drug dealer, needed to be taken out.” I remember the fight at the farmhouse and frown. “I lost a brother and several good people that day. Losing my leg was the least of our losses.

  “But we turned some of their gang to our side, and we won the battle. God was truly with us that night major! We saved our family, and
the community, from a well-equipped crazy man. I am sure you will hear that tale, and many others with a glass of whiskey in your hand on some peaceful evening.

  “But for now, let’s bring you and your men into our militia. Raise your right hand.” The major does so. “Do you pledge to follow all orders of the Laurel Highlands Militia so long as those orders are moral and just?” I ask.

  The major looks at me, as if expecting more. “That’s it major,” I respond. “Follow moral and just orders. That is all we ask. I like simplicity.”

  “I do pledge that my unit and I will follow all moral and just orders of the Laurel Highlands Militia,” the major states boldly.

  I reach out and shake his hand and we exchange salutes. He smiles. “I am not sure of what we just signed on for General, but for some odd reason, I feel really good about it.” I glance at Colonel Fisher and he winks at me knowingly.

  “You just joined a good team, major, you joined a good team,” I state. Turning to Captain Hutchins, I begin to make good on our end of the contract. “Make sure these men are well fed and rested. Find them a home they can make as their headquarters, maybe one of the big resort cabins.

  “We also need to make sure their team mates heading south are well stocked. They are to be considered part of our militia, an advanced scouting team. They should be fully equipped to move in two days, with a strong escort at least to Frostburg. We need to know what’s going on down there anyways. Make setting up a strong position and communications hub on top of Negro Mountain part of that mission. We helped those Amish folks out of a jamb in Bedford, they were heading to Springs, so maybe they can return the favor and supply our folks down there.”

  For several minutes I issues directives on troop movements and supply needs. After I stop, Colonel Fisher looks at me seriously. “You are spreading us thin, Mark. If hordes come over the mountain from Westmoreland County, what are we supposed to do?”