The Retreat Read online

  Twenty minutes after the end of the President’s capitulation, the States of Idaho, Montana, Wyoming and Utah declared independence and the entire old South also declared its independence. Devin came into Mitch’s office and shook his hand.

  “It was a good run, Mitch, and you were right. Thank you for getting me and the rest of our people out,” Devin said with gratitude.

  “Look on the bright side, Devin, you’re still rich; we’ll get you in the woods and work some of that excess weight off. We’re going to need some ambassadors out there shaking hands and kissing babies. You never know, you could be the next President of the United States,” Mitch laughed.

  “Keep the money, Mitch and put it towards the Retreat. I have been here for a couple of days and these people have all their shit in one bag, literally. I thought you had turned into some kind of doomsday end of the world whacko but I see now I was wrong and you were right. I love that virtual office and your place is magnificent. The chalet you built us is the absolute bomb, things will be tight for a while but I think we can make it,” Devin said.

  “Devin, I love you like a brother and you have a choice to make. You can go hide in a hole under the chalet or you can do the work and learn to live free. You and the Olympus folks have an opportunity. You helped make this place a reality, even if all you said was yes. There are 36 chalets like yours on the property. We call the loop Beverly Hills and it is not a term of affection for the rest of the permanent population. I won’t think any worse of you if you head over there and shut the doors and don’t come back out for the next five years but I have a family and I want my kids to live free as I have chosen to do,” Mitch explained. “All we offer is an opportunity to join, learn and contribute to the best of your abilities.”

  “Do I get a gun?” Devin asked.

  “It is not a thing, a piece or a gun, Devin, it is a rifle and I’ll give you a heads up; if it is found more than six feet away from you then you will be charged a bottle of scotch,” Mitch laughed. “I am heading outside the wire in a couple of hours and would be happy if you came along, just grab your go bag and we’ll handle the rest.”

  “Any more hot blonde CPAs with an MBA and a JD hanging around the center, Mitch?” Devin said with a smile.

  “Nope and I would not suggest making any passes until you are high expert in hand to hand because you’ll get handed your lunch for a grope and then sent to the judge,” Mitch laughed. “You also better schedule your medical and dental with Father Timothy, you’d better floss and brush well before your appointment.”

  The power was shut off to the State of Idaho the next day as well as all news feeds, radio programs and the internet. The State went dark. Central Idaho is the area between I -90 which runs from Coeur D’Alene to Seattle and I-84 which runs from the State Capital of Boise to Portland. There is nothing of strategic importance in Central Idaho; it is a place of logging, fishing and hunting, wash, rinse repeat. It has one of the largest populations of off grid preppers while the northern part of Idaho, on the panhandle, trends more to the survivalist outdoor groups. There was not a lot of anarchy in the small towns in central Idaho because there are a few life truisms in the world; don’t play poker or pool with a person with a State in their name and don’t ever pick a fight with a logger. You will lose; even the hand-to-hand instructors from the Retreat do not mess with loggers. They say it is dangerous because the only way to keep them down, no matter how many times you hit them, is to choke them out because a logger will keep getting up no matter how hard or how many times you put them down. Loggers spend their lives in the woods; they can hunt, fish and shoot with the best of them. The town of Bovill immediately closed the roads into town by dropping so many large trees that it would take an excavator a month to clear them. The town soon had a palisade of logs built around it. Hunting parties were sent out daily to bring home fresh fish, game and edibles. The Retreat kept sending produce and food to Bovill. The rule was simple; the food keeps coming so long as the palisade stays guarded and mouths stay shut. Bovill and the Retreat had a symbiotic relationship.

  The great migration east from the West Coast was already happening as food became scarce. The average family had three weeks’ worth of food in their houses and the average grocery store had three days’ worth of stock on hand. Everything was delivered by trucks. After a month, the West Coast started to go hungry and none of them had access to money to buy food anyway. The concrete jungle coastal cities had too dense of a population to grow food or have livestock and soon the strong started preying on the weak. Gangs started to form in the second month and mega gangs formed in the third. The only cities that had a chance were the remote ones that had physical barriers to entry to them like Gig Harbor, the Key Peninsula and the Puget Sound Islands. Life at the Retreat continued as normal, patrols were increased and hunters were intercepted and firmly told to go elsewhere. The city folk that came east of the mountains tried to work for food and water and many farmers tried to help but it was to no avail; many of the city people had never done manual labor and soon grew bitter and full of resentment. City people were used to having their every desire immediately fulfilled. There were arguments and fights and many unwary farmers were killed but ties of community and blood run deep in eastern Washington, Idaho and Montana and eventually outsiders were driven out, killed or told to move on by. Families banded together, towns blocked passage and rifles were cleaned and zeroed. Country boys can survive, until the UN forces arrived. The Chinese-led contingent landed in Seattle, Tacoma, Portland and Olympia. They took possession of their military gear at the joint base Lewis McChord just south of Tacoma. Deals were quickly struck with the mega gangs of the cities. The UN forces now had their scouts, cannon fodder and terror squads. The gangs were liberally armed with .50 caliber Ma Deuce machine guns AKA “The mother of all machine guns” and mortars. The Chinese Stryker brigades cleared a path through the mountain passes, seized the locks in Lewiston on the Columbia River and set up bases of operations for the marauders. The States of Washington and Oregon were pacified within six months and the two Interstate freeways and rail lines were in the hands of the Chinese UN forces. Winter was setting into Idaho and all the crops were harvested and the dehydrating plant kept humming away, cranking out the prepackaged meals in the Homestead brand.

  Chapter 9

  Mitch, Melanie and Duncan were getting worried. They knew the marauder hoard would be heading in their direction come Spring. The gangs were holed up in Spokane and Walla Walla, Washington for the winter. Refugees were streaming out of Washington and Oregon and many were hiding out in the Idaho woods, hunting game and accidentally starting forest fires. Thousands of acres were on fire in the Idaho forests but the group was confident that the winter snow and rains would put the fires out. The people who started the forest fires were not going to make it through winter anyway.

  Mitch and Duncan felt it was time to get into the fight. The marauders were too well equipped for hunters with deer rifles to compete with. The people of Eastern Washington were no slouches but they lacked the forested cover of Idaho. If Ma Deuce didn’t work at a barricade, the marauders tossed mortars at them; if the mortars didn’t work the Chinese liaison officers called in artillery and if arty didn’t get it done then airstrikes finished the job. The remaining population, after being raped and pillaged was forced to work on the collective farms sending produce to the coasts to feed the remaining industrial workers and the UN troops.

  Duncan knew that fixed fortifications were monuments to the stupidity of man and had not worked since Roman times. Barricades, fortifications and roadblocks were immolated by superior firepower. Small cell sniper groups only got a few shots off before artillery landed on their heads. One day they received a call from Bovill on the dedicated single wire field phone. There was a US military officer that wanted to meet with the people of Bovill and the Mayor of Bovill was hoping someone from the Retreat would come. The Retreat had closed the entry road. Mikey had dug up a mile of asphalt and
turned it into forest by planting huge trees. They would fool anyone walking or driving by but Duncan knew that it was only a matter of time before the Retreat was found either by drone, overhead flight or satellite. They had to fight away from the Retreat and prepare the population to bug out when necessary. Provisions and supplies were already cached in hundreds of locations in the forest and every resident had a squad and bug out plan.

  Mitch, Melanie, Duncan, Mikey and Angus put on their “Bovill togs” and took ATVs to the one-mile line and walked into Bovill. Angus supplied them with bolt action guns, shotguns and .45s. The Mayor met them at the local watering hole where Duncan’s private stock of scotch was still available. Soon a small squad of five soldiers came in to speak to the Mayor. The soldiers look tired, dirty and their uniforms were torn and disheveled. The Mayor welcomed the soldiers to sit and all five slumped into their chairs. The senior most was a Lieutenant Colonel who came right to the point.

  “Hello, Mr. Mayor,” the Colonel began, “thanks for seeing us. I am Colonel O’Malley of the Idaho National Guard. We come seeking aid. The marauders are coming into Idaho and I am recruiting able bodied people to help come stop them. We need food, water and anything else you can provide. We stood against them in Spokane and were rolled back. We are going to try and bottle them up in Boise and Coeur D’Alene but there are thousands of them and they are better armed and better supported than we are. Your town won’t even act as a speed bump when they come through. I’d be happy to address your town and apprise them of the situation, Mr. Mayor, if you need an expert to give the briefing.”

  The Mayor looked at Duncan and Mitch. Duncan stepped forward to speak to the Colonel.

  “Hi, Colonel, I’m Duncan. We are sure glad to see you,” Duncan said in his usual offhand manner. “I guess I’d have to ask what exactly your mission is, what your support looks like and how you intend to go about accomplishing your mission?”

  “Well, Duncan, I won’t bore you with the details because you would not understand but with some help from the locals, we intend to stop the marauder’s advance in Boise and Coeur D’Alene and turn them back to Washington. We will be acting as a blocking force with dug in, prepared fortifications on each Interstate,” the Colonel explained.

  “No offense intended, Colonel, but that might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard and I can’t endorse a program that sends our people to go play cannon fodder to buy time for the State of Idaho to get all its shit in one bag to defend useless real estate,” Duncan said. “Now let’s get down to brass tacks; how many effectives do you have in the field today?”

  “That’s classified,” the Colonel replied.

  “How are you supplied and what type of ordinance and armor are available?” Duncan asked.

  “That’s classified,” the Colonel replied.

  “Who can declassify it and where are they?” Duncan asked.

  “General Fitsimmons is the commander of the Idaho National Guard but his location is classified,” the Colonel replied.

  Duncan looked at Angus who nodded. Duncan said, “Well, Colonel, I need you to get word to the General or get one of my people to him so we can talk.”

  “The General is far too busy to talk to every Podunk town in Idaho, that’s why he sent me,” the Colonel said indignantly.

  “Are you in radio contact with the General, Colonel?” Duncan asked.

  “Yes,” the Colonel replied. “The General is aware of my mission and I am speaking to you with his complete authority.”

  “Humor me, Colonel, and please let one of my people talk to the General on the radio,” Duncan asked.

  The two had a stare down until the Colonel turned to the Lieutenant next to him who turned to a Corporal while making a wind it up gesture. The Corporal broke out the radio and made the call. “This is Foxtrot 2 niner calling Delta 10, come in please Delta 10.”

  “Delta 10 copies, we read you 5X5 Foxtrot 2 niner, hold for Delta 10, over.”

  “Copy Delta 10, over.”

  The Corporal handed the handset to the Colonel and a few seconds later the General came on the line.

  “What is it, Irish?” the General sounded perturbed.

  “Sir, I am at location X-ray Tango 649 and the locals would like a word, over,” the Colonel said hesitantly.

  “Put them on if they can work a radio,” the General growled.

  The Colonel pushed the mike towards Duncan who shook his head and pointed at Angus. Angus took the mike and simply said, “Fitz, it’s Angus; need a face to face, over.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line then the General’s voice came over the speaker. “Irish, please bring HVT (High Value Target), ASAP to, hold a sec, Zulu Sierra 212, over.”

  “Copy that Delta 10, Foxtrot 2 niner, out,” the Colonel said.

  The Colonel turned to Angus and asked him point blank who the hell he was. Angus just shrugged and gave his signature “Humpf.” Mitch had known Angus for a decade and had heard more words said into the microphone just now than he had heard in all their previous time together. Angus pointed at the Corporal and snapped his fingers. It sounded like a gunshot had gone off. The Corporal immediately stopped what he was doing and produced a map. Angus looked at it, showed it to Duncan and pointed to an area near Orofino. The two exchanged a few hand signals and Angus pointed down and then up. Duncan put his hand over his eyes and pointed up. Angus nodded, slung his deer rifle over his shoulder and followed the soldiers out of the room.

  “What was that?” Mitch asked.

  Duncan just shrugged. “Thanks for the invite, Mr. Mayor, we’ll be in touch.” The four Retreat executives left and walked back to the ATVs.

  “OK, what was that?” Melanie asked.

  “The General wants to talk to Angus and Angus is going to bring him to the Retreat.” Duncan signaled to the tree line and one of the hidden security sentries walked out of the woods. “Get on the horn and let everyone know Angus and a couple of soldiers will be coming in a couple of hours. Tell them they better have nice wheels here and the cab warm when he arrives.”

  “Who exactly is Angus, other than a gifted conversationalist?” Mitch asked.

  “Angus was a Command Sergeant Major in the Army before he retired and came out here; it is the top non-commissioned grade in the Army other than like one single dude. He likes the peace and solitude and you better not tell anyone or he’ll kick my ass for telling you after he kicks your ass for running off at the mouth. Angus knows just about everyone in the Army and Angus is not a man to be trifled with,” Duncan said. “He’ll bring the General here and we’ll tell the General how to win the war.”

  Two hours later, a regular Army Brigadier General and a full bird Colonel walked into the Welcome Center with Angus. The General looked around with keen interest, taking in the surroundings. Angus excused himself and motioned the Colonel to come with him. The Colonel looked at the General who nodded and the Colonel left. Angus must have liked the Colonel because he started talking to him on the way out.

  “Can I get you a steak or a scotch, General,” Duncan said. “Oh, sorry, welcome to our little Alamo.”

  “With thanks on the first two, Duncan, and I must say, your center might be the only place with lights on in the entire State,” the General said. “When Angus said I had better pull my head out of my ass and go see the boss, I hopped to. I’ve known Angus since I was a shave tail and he was a Corporal in my platoon so I’ll skip the bullshit and tell you that his word is golden with me and anyone he vouches for is good too. Angus said the Scotsman was good people, which is about the highest praise there is in Angus’ book. The trader, who I assume is this gentleman here, I’m told is the richest man in the world right now and he also said don’t let the blonde fool you, she’s smarter than you are; she must be the lady over here. They call me Fitz but you may call me General or sir.”

  “As I said, General, on behalf of myself, named Duncan by the way, Mitch and Melanie, we would like to welcome you to the Retreat. Mela
nie can give you a run down on what we are prepared to offer you in terms of material. I must say though, it comes with conditions,” Duncan said.

  “Conditions? Really? Are we haggling now?” the General asked just as Duncan handed him a scotch in a glass with ice.

  “Yes, General,” Melanie began with a smile. “Here is a list of material we can supply you with and the monthly supply after that.” Melanie’s list flashed on a big screen display at the end of the conference room. The General’s eyes bugged out of his head. “But as Duncan said, there are a few conditions that come with our aid.”

  “We need this material now just to keep our army in the field and ready for action, you guys. This isn’t time to play hide the salami,” the General said.