Black Dawn

I will finally attempt something I've been wanting to do my whole life: a fictional, full-fledged story. I'm a lazy fuck, so I've never gotten anything done, but this finally feels like the time. I've been creating this in my head for the past few months, and felt that using Steemit as the publishing platform makes the most sense. So, apologies to people who want non-fictional blogging, but I will try to stick with this until the end. This doesn't mean I won't be writing about other stuff, as well, though. I have no idea what to expect as far as reception goes, but I'd like to get comments if anyone finds the story engaging.

Any and all artwork is done by one of my best friends, Annika Takkala, who volunteered to do it, and whose blog you can find here

Introduction

The end of 2017 marked the end of an era. Nations worldwide agreed to the first global scale ceasefire, the first in recorded history. War not only changed, it stopped. This era has since become known as the Post War. Information had become readily available and easy to digest. News, stories, articles, content.. they all found their way to people in a millisecond from the time they were published. Truth was no longer scarce; there was an abundance of it. Everybody had their own. The pen had finally become mightier than the sword. But what the wise men who first said that never accounted for was the control held by whoever held the pen. When truth was no longer scarce, no one seaked it. The pen is mightier than the sword, and whoever writes the past, writes the future.

May 22nd, 2022. 7:34am - Somewhere in Mexico.

The porch of a small house in the Mexican countryside is the scene for a man who has prepared for it to be his very last scene. The rugged, ageing man approaching his 40s is holding a gun, which is something he has been familiar with his whole life. Only this time he is not pointing it at other people. Today is the day, he feels, that he will finally point the gun at himself.

The man is Adam Black, though Black is not his real name.

It is a codename given to him by the United States Special Forces, due to his past success as a soldier and black ops operapative. And it wasn't just success; Adam was the best. The very best at what he did. Some say there has never been a soldier like Adam Black. Hero to some, even. A trained killer to others. The only other man to ever receive the codename Black was his father, and it was then passed on to Adam after his passing.

Ironically, that was not the only thing passed on from father to son.

Adam's father died a traitor to the United States. Branded a war criminal, which would become the faith of Adam, as well. Five years ago, almost to the day.

Of course, what really happened on that day does differ from the official story.

Thrown away like yesterday's garbage by the very country he sacrificed everything to fight for, and one that could never begin to repay him for all he's done, the presumed dead Adam Black became a myth. A story passed on in numerous different ways, depending on the circles. Whether he was celebrated or vilified, the Legend of Adam Black became bigger than the man. A lifeform completely on its own.

Escaping the United States government and retreating to a life in Mexico was something that only a man of his skillset and perseverance could pull off.

Even though he doesn't own a television, or a computer, nor does he keep in touch with the outside world, Adam knows, or at least feels, that the world is not a world for him anymore. As he grasps on to his weapon, Adam tries to think of reasons to keep going. The physical wars he's been through have been so much easier than the spiritual one he's in the middle of right now.

One that about meaning, purpose. And will.

But Adam is not quite ready to go. Not just yet.

The only thing that is more of a trusty friend to Adam than his weapon, is his lighter, which he decides to use one last time to light one last Lucky Strike. It's not like he has his health to worry about, he feels.

One cigarette then turns to two. Two turn to three.

What does he have left, he wonders. Why is this such a struggle. There's even a glimmer of not quite happiness, but something akin to that, as Adam finds himself rejecting the thought of placing the gun in his mouth - even though he's done it in his head for hundreds, if not thousands of times, during the past five years.

But the optimism is soon crushed under the weight of all the reasons Adam finds to finally do it. It always happens.

Though perhaps it's not so much the reasons to do it, but rather the lack of reasons to not do it.

As the three cigarettes have finally turned into half a pack, Adam loads his weapon, and after pondering an 11th cigarette for a passing moment, he finally drops down to his knees and slowly but surely moves the gun to his mouth. As Adam closes his eyes, thinking it's the last time, his failures, disappointments, expectations, betrayals and tears rush through his mind, all the way from childhood to adulthood to the present day. The day he was betrayed by his brother. The moment he realized he's father was a traitor to the country he himself used to love. When he fell in love. And when he was forced to leave it all behind after his government turned on him, all because he opted to follow his conscious during war.

When his own friends and team members were given the kill order.

It hasn't been the life Adam envisioned for himself.

Just as he's about to end it, with his finger hugging the trigger, tighter and tighter, there is an intervention Adam could never have prepared for.

He had heard the helicopter from afar, but it never occurred to him that it could have something to do with him. But as Adam could hear the sound get closer and closer, it started to seem like it would, in fact, have something to do with him. Adam recognized the model. Ironically, it was a Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawk, a model used by the US army. This was not a social call.

Adam slowly gets to a standing position, as he sees a familiar figure get out of the helicopter, which landed in front of his home, to a large grassy field, surrounded by little else than more grassy field. Adam has never been a people person.

The aged man who gets out of the helicopter is Bruce Miller. He is wearing army gear that he used to wear years ago when he worked as Adam's commander in the forces. Back in Adam's former life. Adam has no love for the government, or the military, but Bruce has remained a close friend. In fact, Bruce's contributions were a big reason why Adam was able to go undercover and be presumed dead after the incident five years ago. To Adam's knowledge, Bruce has been the only person from Adam's former life to know about his whereabouts.

There is a moment where the two men simply look at each other.

They share a strong bond, the kind of love that can form between two people only in life threatening situations. Those that have never been in war would never understand.

They both see a different man than the one they knew years ago. They both see a man who is older, weaker, and clearly more sad.

But Bruce is not the only man getting out of the helicopter; three men, armed with rifles and in clear battle stances get out, with their weapons pointed Adam, clearly as a way to prevent Adam from escaping. From what, Adam has no idea.

Adam clutches at his weapon, as Bruce takes steps towards him.

"Adam", Bruce finally utters out. "We need to talk."

It's been weeks since Adam has said a single word. He is filled with conflicting thoughts and confusion. He trusts Bruce. Bruce has never let him down during the 15 year friendship the two have shared. But he is now standing in front of him, protected by armed men with their guns pointed directly at Adam, waiting for any sudden movements. Adam doesn't say anything. He is waiting for Bruce to makes his move, instead.

"Maybe we should go inside", Bruce continues and basically invites himself in. The front door is open, and Bruce carefully walks across the porch and steps inside, trusting that his friend won't shoot him in the back of his head.

It's only because of their friendship that Adam doesn't do just that. Were this anyone but Bruce Miller, their head would be splattered across the walls of Adam's modest housing right now.

"I'm busy." Adam lets out in a raspy voice, and almost fails to finish the sentence due to the fact that he hasn't let out a sound in so long. It hurts to speak.

But there is a familiar sarcastic tone in Adam's words, one that Bruce recognizes and feels comfortable with. He is older, but this is still Adam Black. Bruce did notice the gun, and he did notice Bruce kneeling down on his porch, and Bruce knows Adam wasn't shooting rats. He's been around, he knows what's going on.

"I think you want to hear this." Bruce has a tone of his own, and it's a tone that he has when he's serious. It's the tone he had during mission briefings with Adam. Adam instantly recognizes it.

Bruce waits for a response for a few seconds, but it quickly becomes clear that he's not going to get one. He spends another moment thinking of ways to say what he's about to say, until finally opting for the official way. It's the way they've always communicated with each other.

"About 7 hours ago, the United States government received trusted intel of a terrorist group in possession of a biochemical weapon. One that they are capable to launch."

"You came here to tell me that?" Adam finds the situation absurd. Adam is a wanted war criminal, and a few minutes ago he was preparing to blow his brains out. Now he's stuck in a time warp, and is receiving what seems like a mission briefing from decade ago. But Adam's not a stupid man. "I'm sure you're not here just to gossip."

"No. In addition to the biochemical threat, they have hostages. We received their demands seven hours ago in a crypted message, we have no information on their whereabouts." Bruce realizes how Adam must feel right now, but he wants to get to the point.

"Since when did you guys negotiate with terrorists, anyway? What are the demands?"

Bruce looks Adam dead in the eye before taking a deep breath.

"You."

"Me?" This fills Adam's head with a thousand questions. He's made his share of enemies in his line of work, but he had lived the past five years under the assumption that no one knew that he was alive. Not only did someone clearly know that he's still alive, apparently that someone wants his head.

"They asked for Adam Black in exchange for the hostages, and the biochemical strike. Their demands are that you are delivered to them to a location where they will exchange you for selected hostages. The rest will be freed once you arrive to their base of operations. And the strike will be called off. They -- will do this in exchange for your life." Bruce's voice weighs heavy, as even though he has had this conversation in his head several times during the past seven hours, actually saying is fat more terrifying than anything he had envisioned.

Adam, however, has been in this particular game before. He is not an easy person to lie to.

"What are you not telling me? You know these people can't be trusted. What are they holding over your head, Bruce?"

"The government is not holding anything over my head, Adam. Not this time. It's.."

"What?"

Bruce knows the ramifications of what he's about to say, and hesitates for a little. But he also knows that Adam will then understand.

"One of the hostages is Maria."

That name hits Adam harder than anything in the past five years. The fact that he feels something is like an electric shock going through his body. Feeling has become so foreign. But the mention of Bruce's daughter, Maria, who Adam was deeply in love with, and was going to marry, right before everything went to hell, is something that finally makes Adam care. For the first time since the last time he saw Maria.

"Maria?! How? Bruce!" Adam raises his voice and his calm demeanor completely breaks down, as he demands to know what his former fiancée has to do with this.

Bruce hands Adam a phone, and on the phone is a picture of a woman, bloodied and tied up, scared for her life.

"I received this the same time the government received the demands. It hasn't been doctored, and it's recent. We -- couldn't decipher the sender."

Adam simply stares at the picture. There are so many things in his head that can't formulate a single clear thought, as Bruce continues his briefing.

"It's clear that someone wants to lure you out. Someone who knows you're still alive. I simply had no choice, Adam. I had to reveal your location. I'm sorry."

"No, it's.. it's okay, Bruce. How do you we.. how do we know we can trust them?"

"We don't. But we have no other choice. Adam, I.. there's no one I respect more as a man than you. No one. I know you don't believe in the government I work for, but I always believed in you. I think you did the right thing five years ago, you know that. I would never betray your trust for anything, and we both know this is a trap. We've both been in this game for long enough. But I can't take a risk, not with Maria. Not with my daughter."

"I understand." Adam also realizes that it's a trap. I'm sure whoever laid down the trap also knew that Adam would realize it. But they clearly also knew that Adam couldn't, and wouldn't, risk Maria, either. This makes Adam wonder. Who could it be? Who could know Adam was alive, who could know Adam this well, and why would he want Adam dead. For real, this time.

Adam takes a look at the gun in his hand, the gun that just a few moments ago occupied his mouth, and he realizes that at least he can die for something, instead of dying for nothing.

"Take me to her."

Adam and Bruce step outside, as Bruce regrets to tell Adam to leave his gun behind.

"Adam, I'm sorry. The gun."

Adam hesitates, but lets go of his gun and places it on a table. As he does this, he is approached by the soldiers, who tell him to reach out his hands in order to be handcuffed. Adam doesn't feel that this is necessary, but won't fight it out of respect for Bruce. He does take offense to a bunch of what are clearly rookies pointing their guns at him. Especially since Adam knows full well that if he wanted to kill them on the spot, he could.

"Tell these kids to stop pointing those things at me."

Bruce doesn't say anything, but he nods at the soldiers who lower their weapons in compliance.

The men step inside the helicopter, and as Bruce sits next to the handcuffed Adam, he lays his hand on top of his shoulder.

"My country owes you more than I can say. I just.."

"Save it."

The helicopter takes off, and Adam is being transported to what he clearly understands is a trap, and a surefire death sentence. But he can't help but wonder why.