All right, all right. Lets get on with it. This is some good stuff, keep it coming.
All right, all right. Lets get on with it. This is some good stuff, keep it coming.
No worries chief! Their "turf" these days resides on the backside of the moon. Completely lost control of anything feasibly close to resembling a prepping site these days.Originally Posted by The Stig
I had to go back a little to catch up...love how this is turning out.
Sorry for the delay in updates. We spent all of Easter weekend visiting family which cut into my story writin' time. Updates should resume tonight.
If you think that come SHTF you are gonna jock up in all your kit and be a death-dealing one man army, you're an idiot - izzyscout
Just whenever you get to it. We'll wait,
“It’s about time for our part in this. Think we ought to get to work?” Clarissa asked of Klepper.
Although she had been lounging around the house, the day had suddenly slipped by and it was time for her to bait the hook via the magic of Klepper’s toys.
Setting his iced tea down and heaving himself from the chair, Klepper responded, “Yea, I suppose you are right. Come on”. Motioning to her to follow, he led her to a different room in the basement.
As she turned the corner and saw the array of radio equipment jammed into the small room she couldn’t help but blurt out, “holy crap, what is all this stuff?”
The stuff to which she referred was a mountain of radio and computer equipment that Klepper had acquired over the years. From radios with tubes to more sophisticated devices he had communication equipment of every imaginable type at his disposal. Tying this pile of radios together was a mass of cables of all sorts. Thick. Thin. Black. Yellow. Braided. Cat5. They all wove together like an octopus with hundreds of tentacles.
“Most of this stuff is no good since Donovan jams so many frequencies and the Internet, but I figured out a way around that” beamed the clearly proud Klepper. “Can’t use it all that often or else we’ll get traced, but it does come in handy from time to time.
“Don’t the Troopers know about this?” asked Clarissa.
Fiddling with some dials, and moving several items around Klepper continued his narrative. “Oh yea. They know about my standard frequency stuff but they figured they’ve got it all jammed out anyway. Plus I have the cleaning contract at City Hall. I’ve been able to figure out several…..work arounds….that have allowed me to access what we need to work our magic.”
Clarissa, impressed, said, “Miller must love this.”
“Here hold this,” he said as he handed an unknown device to Clarissa. “Like I said. It’s comes in handy. Makes me nervous as hell but he’s crafty about when he taps me for certain….favors.” It was clear that Klepper served as more than just a radio operator for Miller.
Clearing a pile of equipment off a chair in the corner she sat down and rehearsed what she planned to say. Several minutes went by and she was startled back to reality by Klepper’s gentle touch.
“It’s time” was all he said.
****
“Clarrisa, what he hell is going on?” asked the Senator as he paced in Lehman’s office at Shelton’s City Hall.
“Was going to ask you the same thing Miles” came the reply through the phone.
Motioning Lehman out of his chair the Senator sat down and leaned back. “Sweetheart, something’s clearly gone horribly wrong here. Where are you? I’ll send my men to bring you to the capital and we can talk this out.”
Letting the statement stand for a few seconds Clarissa finally said, “Miles, I need to see you. Alone.” There was a certain something in her tone.
“Give me a second dear,” he said with a greasy smile. After motioning Lehman and his aides out of the office he waited for the door to shut to say, “Ok. Let’s figure this thing out.”
“Look” she paused. “Look, this whole thing is sideways. I need to tell you my side.”
“I agree.”
Forging ahead she said, “I think it best we be alone. That way if there’s any confusion we can iron it out between us. As adults.”
Donovan was a man used to stepping on people and crushing them under his boot-heel, but ultimately he was a man. And one very enamored with Clarissa Donner. “There are some things you need to share with me, to clear up any misunderstanding, you see. A lot of people think you’ve gotten yourself mixed up with the wrong crowd.”
“Yes” she said. “I know Miles. I can understand why people would think that, but I have something that will persuade you to see otherwise. I can’t describe it over the phone, but I’m ready to give it to you if it will help clear things up.”
Her verbal fencing had always proved itself a powerful aphrodisiac to the man used to getting whatever he wanted.
“That would be good,” he said with unnerving tone of curiosity and lust. “I’m sure if you can give me your side I’ll be able to speak on your behalf and get this matter cleared up right away.”
Continuing on he said, “Where are you?”
“I’ve already made arrangements for a friend to fly me into the airport near Shelton. You’ll have to come over from the capital and meet me there. We can fly back from there. I’m sure by the time we land we will have started to work things out.”
Trying to keep his thoughts rational the Senator said, “Clarisa, that isn’t going to work.”
“I’m in no position to ask for special treatment Miles, but I need to do it this way. I’m afraid if your men bring me in something will go haywire and you won’t get what you need..to clear things up”.
He could have sworn there was a slight pause in her voice after the word need.
“Yes. I agree. When should I expect to meet you?”
“Tomorrow night at 10:00pm” she said.
“I’ll be there” was all he could muster.
****
As the phone went dead Miles Donovan sat back and mulled over this sudden change in events.
After summoning his aids and Lehman back in he said, “I’ll be staying on in Shelton through tomorrow night.” To his aides he said, “Rearrange everything. Work with the communications people here to do that phone conference.”
As the aides scurried out of the room Donovan told Lehman about his planned meeting with Clarissa the following night.
“Sir” interjected Lehman cautiously. “My teams will be leading the raid on the insurgents at that time. The intel about a rendezvous of their core group came in earlier tonight. We’ve been using information from this source to destroy the smaller groups first, but it’s time to haul in the main ring. It would appear they are trying to escape the Southern Zone.”
Angrily Donovan said, “You halfwit, you should have hammered the main group from the get go.”
Lehman figured it wouldn’t be wise to point out to the Senator that the source had ensured his safety by withholding information about ClarMar. It wasn’t until Julie Dawson uttered the name of the farm that the true nature of ClarMar was revealed.
He also figured it would be very unwise to remind the Senator that his protection of ClarMar had prevented rooting out the insurgents any sooner.
Lehman looked at the floor like a schoolboy and mumbled, “Yes sir”.
Turning his attention back to the situation at hand, Donovan said, “Lehman you take my men with you on this raid. I want no screw-ups. Whatever resources you need take them. I don’t care if you take every last man in this post, just end this mess.”
If you think that come SHTF you are gonna jock up in all your kit and be a death-dealing one man army, you're an idiot - izzyscout
Miller finally arrived a few hours before dawn. Sneaking quietly into Klepper’s house from his well worn path through the woods to the back of his home, Miller made a small sandwich and went into the den in the basement.
No sense being seen by a nosey neighbor.
He found Clarissa asleep on the couch, her dirty gear, still smelling of the previous nights battle, stacked in the corner.
Sinking into the big comfy chair in the corner, Miller ate his modest meal and mulled over the plans for the next day.
He was startled when Clarissa’s sleepy voice interrupted his thoughts, “The prodigal son returns. Been busy?”
“Something like that,” he replied tiredly. “How did your phone call go?”
“I had to take a couple Silkwood showers to rinse the ick off.”
Chuckling, Miller nibbled on his sandwich and drifted back into his thoughts.
He was again stirred from his reverie by Clarissa’s question. “This is going to be really dangerous isn’t it?”
Never one to pull punches Miller replied. “Yea. It is. About a thousand things could go wrong and we’ll end up dead or in one of Donovan’s camps. But it’s our only play right now.”
Continuing on. “It’s all going to come down to timing and luck really. As long as we keep our heads on straight, and think on our feet, we’ve got a shot at pulling this off.”
“Do you think it will work?”
Pausing for a few seconds, Miller said, “Of course it will. Who could resist you in a cocktail dress?”
He was soon fast asleep as exhaustion overtook him.
Awake now and worried Clarissa was restless. Playing with the wedding band in her pocket she suddenly missed her husband very much.
****
Before dawn the lead elements of Crutchfield’s armored forces began heading south out of Lexington. The roar of engines and whine of turbines shattered the calm morning air as small units began marshaling at prearranged markers.
The lead elements would travel out but be closely followed by the main forces. They would drive south along Interstate 75 to Richmond before turning on a westerly heading. Going southward first would circumvent the Kentucky River and it’s deep gorges and winding bends to the immediate southwest of Lexington.
As the hours ticked by vehicles whirred and buzzed as the frantic pace to resume the headlong charge into Kentucky pulsed through the air.
Lead elements were somewhat startled by sporadic, but light, resistance. On occasion a tow missile would burst out of hidden post on a hillside, or random group of men would attempt to engage Humvees. But as the column gained momentum, these attacks represented irritants more than obstacles. If anything, they bolstered the invaders confidence and pushed them to drive harder.
Overall the high-ranking commander’s mood had bounced between concerned, to near hysteria when the attacks on Lexington intensified, to calm when their main force pulled into town. Now they were feeling the worst thing a military commander could allow himself to feel: overconfident.
****
As the morning turned to mid-afternoon the bulk of Crutchfield’s men were scattered across the countryside between Lexington and Richmond, with much of the advanced elements and leading edge of the main force already heading Westward.
The force that had held Lexington had been reduced to slightly below the original number that captured the city. Many men had been siphoned off from the cities defense to augment the main force and replace the men lost to the fiasco in Cincinnati.
Throughout the events that had torn the country apart, President Alan had often been accused of pulling his punches, of not being aggressive enough, of not going for the killing blow. Many times his detractors were right; his sluggishness had allowed Crutchfield’s movement to grow and Senator Donovan to hold the Southern District hostage.
But the President’s military advisors failed to recognize was that the President was more interested in strategy than tactics. He had been promoting restraint to marshal his strength for when it was truly needed. It was Crutchfield who was under pressure to act quickly. The President quickly grasped that large losses of his forces, from haphazard actions, would only secede momentum and popularity to Crutchfield’s cause. Painting Crutchfield as the traitor and invader, versus the noble resistance of Patriots, was far more appealing when it wasn’t tarnished by horrific defeats in battle.
So he had preached holding back his strength until the time was right.
He was also blessed by combat seasoned advice from his top military commanders. Many of the military men who had sided with the Liberal cause had skirted combat tours or spent much of their carriers crafting policy. While they excelled at position papers and PowerPoint presentations, they were lacking when it came to leading men. The President’s fighting men, by contrast, had been hardened by nearly ten years of constant conflict in the Middle East. From Private to General, the men who served him had been forged by fire and steel.
The forces funneled in southern Kentucky were massive and represented the cream of the President’s fighting forces. Troops were pared from all over the remainder of the country to give the President a sledgehammer blow when it was most needed. Restraint and reserve gave way to bold action.
****
Taking a page from tactics in mid-twenty century European theaters, the President’s field commanders had painstakingly staged their men and material in such a way to promote swift maneuver and deep thrusts across territory. One could almost envision Guderian’s Panzer’s poised to strike across the Russian steppe.
In a nearly simultaneous wave, combined artillery, MLRS rockets and airstrikes washed over the length of Crutchfield’s forces. Like a surfer caught in a heavy wake, Crutchfield’s forces were caught off-guard. Nearly a thousand men and a hundred vehicles simply disappeared in the onslaught.
The avalanche erupted all along the length of Crutchfield’s column from the President’s men who had been rushed into position over the course of the last few days. Like the Katyusha rockets of old, the Multiple Launch Rocket Systems rained death in five-minute intervals as unmanned drones corrected their fire via the power of the internet. Artillery batteries responded to the call by peppering their sectors with earth shattering barrage of explosives that killed, maimed and destroyed. From above F15s and F16s poured a seemingly constant stream of cluster munitions into the masses of vehicles in their assigned areas.
From the lead elements back to just north of Richmond, this massive bombardment both shattered the nerve of Crutchfield’s men and disrupted their forward advance.
****
The truly inspired action however, was to be lighting strikes by armored forces around Richmond that aimed to swing far east of the I75 corridor in the direction of Paris, Kentucky and then loop back towards the west. Ultimately their goal was the rolling hills north of Lexington. In concert, another powerful force began it’s move north from Danville, Kentucky utilizing US Route 127. As they headed straight north, they would race to move around the west side of Lexington to Frankfort before turning eastward.
The two forces would meet somewhere around Georgetown and fully encircle Crutchfield’s forces.
Crutchfield’s generals, while talented at enforcing rules at garrisons and training posts, had forgotten the most classic of military attacks: the pincher movement.
****
From mid-afternoon into the early evening, The Presidents men maneuvered around Crutchfield’s flanks while his main force was pinned in place by constant rocket, artillery and cluster bomb attack. In between bombardments, small unit engagements flared to add to the disruption in the center.
Because Crutchfield’s forces had formed a pronounced bulge in the lines, with undefended flanks, the President’s men were able to move with lightening speed. Striker armored vehicles, MRAPs and Humvee’s raced at breakneck pace while the only slightly slower Abrams tanks and Bradley fighting vehicles followed closely behind.
Before midnight both armored columns had reached their assigned objectives with enough men, vehicles and supplies to withstand any counter attack. Pausing before making the swing back towards the north of Lexington, additional units were moved into position to reinforce them. All the while, the center of the Presidents forces, stretching from west of Richmond to just east of it, continued to hold despite various attempts by Crutchfield’s forces to mount a counter attack. There had been some concern that the support artillery and rocket units might be compromised by a strong attack. They had infantry and armored support, but it had been kept to an absolute minimum to add strength to the main advances.
The leaders shouldn’t have worried; the wave of death from the air simply snuffed any attack out before it had a chance to develop.
If you think that come SHTF you are gonna jock up in all your kit and be a death-dealing one man army, you're an idiot - izzyscout
Senator Donovan shifted nervously in the front seat of his SUV as his driver and sole protector drove onto the Shelton airport property. Sensing the opportunity to crush the rebellion he had lent his small security contingent to Lehman to augment his force.
And for what he hoped was about to happen he didn’t particularly want too many people around anyway.
“Just pull over there,” he said to the driver as he pointed at a spot just outside the main hanger. His plane, tucked neatly in the back of the hanger, was visible. A maintenance man peered intently into one of the engine cowlings and was the only sign of life at the airport other than the slight glow emanating from the small control tower.
The two men sat in silence as they awaited the arrival of Clarissa’s plane. The occasional notification would ring as Donovan’s cell phone received a text message, but other than that electronically produced noise all else was quiet. For some reason Donovan felt like a schoolboy waiting for his date to the prom.
“Sir, it’s ten after,” said the driver.
Glancing over angrily Donovan said, “You got plans?” and effectively silenced the man.
Another five minutes ticked by before the faint sound of an airplane engine began piercing the night. Soon after red and green lights were seen growing in the distance as the plane entered its final approach into the small county airport. As the plane leveled out it’s landing light suddenly snapped on, illuminating the ground before the plane. Donovan watched as the pilot touched the plane down with a gentle bump and rolled out from his landing.
“I’m going to confirm this is kosher, then you split. Fly back with the plane in the morning,” instructed Donovan as he watched the twin-engine aircraft leave the runway and turn towards the hanger. His eyes remained glued on the plane.
****
In the 1960’s the Iverson Grain Company was a thriving company that supported the town of Kienstra. Like many rural areas the massive grain silo complex towered over the entire town. The elevator consisted of eight towers in all, all joined together like crayons in a box. Smaller individual silos dotted the property as well. The proximity to the river and size of the mill propelled the company from small operation to thriving business concern that received wheat and other grains from a large multi-state area.
Time and changing economies lead the eventual downfall of the company. They still operated but the company was a fraction of its size in the glory years. Through shear will of the employees kept the business running despite the economic hardships and challenges imposed by Senator Donovan.
Lehman and the individual unit commanders reviewed their plans one last time before getting into their SUV’s. They planned to storm the complex from all sides at once, like police might do when apprehending a suspect. Calculating the insurgents were hiding in place awaiting the boat that would never arrive Lehman would use speed, surprise and numbers to overwhelm the small group before they could react.
“All right men, we go in five” was the simple announcement. Some men performed last minute checks on their weapons while others reviewed the direction from which they’d storm the compound.
****
As the propellers stopped spinning and the door to the small plane opened, Donovan was somewhat shocked to see the shapely figure of Clarissa Donner appear. The plane had parked on the tarmac and was some distance from his SUV prompting the older man to walk forward towards her.
Meeting him at the bottom of the stairs Clarissa greeted the Senator with a kiss. “Miles. I don’t know how things got so messed up but I’m sure I can convince you of my innocence,” she said looking up at him with eyes that captivated.
With his arm still around her he responded, “I’ve got a feeling you’ve got exactly what I need to be convinced.” A devilish smile crossed his face as he prompted her to climb back into the airplane.
He didn’t attempt to disguise his leering as he visually inspected her backside as she ascended the stairs.
Pulling himself into the plane after her he attempted some vestige of security by ensuring nobody else was present. An ambush was impossible inside the confines of the tiny aircraft and his quick glance confirmed the only other occupant of the plane was the pilot.
Turning back towards his driver he gave the thumbs up signal and began closing the door. After fumbling with it a few times he was finally able to secure the latch. The Senator maneuvered himself into a seat next to Clarissa. They were separated by the small isle but were as close as the limited space would allow.
“Go ahead pilot,” she said softly as she turned back to the impossibly tan Senator. “I’m sorry I couldn’t have been more presentable, but I did my best.”
Even in a simple button down shirt and jeans she was still beautiful. She had frantically done her hair and makeup as best she could to appear somewhat attractive and Klepper had been kind enough to iron her jeans and loan her a button down. “Damn, I don’t have any jewelry,” she thought as she primped her hair on final approach but thinking quickly she had opened two extra buttons of her blouse. Her ample feminine charms more than compensated for the lack of necklace and bracelet.
Leaning closer Donovan, with a slight tremble in his voice, said, “Darling you look fine.” As the engines turned over and the pilot ran them up to speed, Donovan leaned in to resume kissing her.
“Forgive me Mark,” was the only thing she thought.
Neither of them heard the pilot confirm his confirmation to takeoff and begin pushing the throttles forward.
If you think that come SHTF you are gonna jock up in all your kit and be a death-dealing one man army, you're an idiot - izzyscout
To ensure they weren’t walking into an ambush, Lehman had a man sneak into the building complex of the grain silos. The main force would still converge at the given time, but Lehman wanted a set of eyes to review the situation and change the plans if needed.
As he crept into the constellation of small buildings he was awed by the shear massiveness of the main grain elevator. It towered over the small office building at its base. He only had a few minutes left before the raid would commence so moving quickly he sprinted into a position twenty-five yards away from the office building.
Crouched behind a small truck he could clearly see the flickering lights inside the office buildings. It was clear that someone was inside and trying to use a flashlight. It was their attempt to shield most of the light that produced the flickering lights against the impossibly dirty office windows. Listening intently the Trooper could also hear feint voices emanating from within the structure. Straining to make out words he decided to move closer in the remaining minutes before the raid. Checking his watch he moved to within five yards of the side of the office building.
“Echo-one, this is Raven, come in?” asked the plaintive voice. After a slight pause the voice continued, “Sir, I can’t raise them”.
A different voice continued, “Keep trying. We’ll stay put another one zero then move out.”
A third voice chimed in, “ten minutes, we can’t stay here that long. Not all of us cooped up in here.”
The second voice harshly interjected, “I’m in command here. We’re waiting.”
“Echo-one, this is Raven, come in……”
Whispering into the microphone affixed to his ballistic vest the Trooper said, “green light, go. Converge on office building at foot of main elevator.”
****
“Miss Donner” said the pilot loudly as he tried to crane is head around towards the rear of the plane. “Miss Donner!”
He had tried, in vain, to interrupt the passionate embrace of his passengers but he had a problem. The left engine was malfunctioning and it wasn’t going to get any better. They had to return to the airport.
It wasn’t until the plane steeply banked and the loud clank of the landing gear being extended interrupted them that Donovan realized something was happening.
“What the hell is going on?” asked the Senator.
“No problems sir,” yelled the pilot as he coaxed the plane back to earth. “A mechanical issue with the engine. We’re landing. Once we’re on the ground we’ll get it fixed and back in the air in no time.” While he was distracted by his amorous activities with Clarissa, he was somewhat alarmed at the change in plans. He was a man used to things happening as he directed and controlled.
“Miles,” cooed Clarissa, “don’t worry. We’ll be on the ground in no time. And besides….the pilot will have to leave the plane and we’ll be all alone.”
Looking back at her already disheveled hair and nearly unbuttoned blouse his fears were suddenly outweighed by other, more primal emotions.
****
In a nearly perfect synchronicity the various SUVs and trucks of Lehman’s force of nearly forty men converged on the grain elevator from all sides. Tires screeched as they skidded to a halt on the gravel driveway. Directing his men towards the office complex, several vehicles actually collided as they pulled into position.
A dust cloud, obscured by the night air, erupted while the men poured from their vehicles. Like a well-rehearsed ballet, they rolled out of their seats, trained their rifles on the office complex and locked onto it with unwavering attention. While some men moved forward, several stayed back to form somewhat of a perimeter. The men who arrived on the rear of the massive elevator began working their way around the building to ensure nobody was escaping out the back.
Lehman sprang from his vehicle, pistol in hand and prepared to follow his men into the office building to apprehend the insurgents.
He was about to restore his good standing with the Senator.
If you think that come SHTF you are gonna jock up in all your kit and be a death-dealing one man army, you're an idiot - izzyscout
I think it's fixin to get interesting!
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