Hitman

This is the story of a man named Adal. Adal was a good man at heart, however most people would not think that by looking at him. Adal was a Hitman. Most people would call him Murderer, Serial Killer, or something of that sort. In reality he was killing people because he had to. He would rather not kill people if he didn’t have to. Then again he would rather the world be at peace and war had never been invented, just like everyone else. Adal killed people for the greater good. He would take one life in order to spare millions.

In this particular story Adal was after a man named Anastas. A Russian Communist Advocate who was trying to bring communism to America. Thirty years and people still believed in communism. Adal was getting dressed for the morning. Adal usually like to wear nice clothes, however it was a shame that they were usually ruined from being bled on, torn, shot through, burned, or damaged from the many dangers he faced every day. Adal buttoned up the shirt he was wearing.

After all, his job was very dangerous. And that was an understatement. His missions were perilous, suicidal even. He did things that many people would never consider doing.  Sometimes he had to fight dirty though. He could not use techniques that would send people to the afterlife in as peaceful a way as possible. He had to send them to their deaths as quickly, quietly, and efficient as possible. He could not risk being discovered. He spent almost his entire life undercover.

As he took the tie around his neck and tied it into a double Windsor, Adal thought back to the day he had joined the Hitman program. He had traded friends for secrecy. He had traded a wife, for a gun. He had traded a house, for travelling. He had traded kids, for razor sharp technique, and ruthless efficiency. He traded a normal life, for the life of a hitman. And he was damn near unstoppable. He could run three miles in less than 15 minutes. He had a black belt in six martial arts. He had more training and experience than a navy seal. He had the marksmanship of a sniper. However he knew he was not invincible. A single bullet could end his life if he was not careful.

Adal put on his jacket and buttoned the cuff links. His train of thought continued onward. He had to be careful. He had become too valuable of a hitman to die. Adal wasn’t afraid to die, he was more afraid of what would happen if he did. He knew that if he didn’t take out Anastas, then the Russian man would be able to gather enough troops and support to take over America. He wouldn’t kill any Americans. No, just the ones that stood in his way. He would convert the world to communism, starting with America, which was absolutely unacceptable.

Adal stopped to think about his history. He sat on the edge of the bed in his hotel room. He rested his bald head on his hands. He thought first about his parents. He wondered where they were, or if they were thinking about him. He thought about his name. He was mostly white but his family did at one point come from Germany. He had a bunch of different races in his blood. He was mostly German though, A lot of people said he looked like Walter from Breaking Bad. His name was Adal. German for Justice. That was part of what convinced him to serve his country. He wanted to serve justice to those who deserved it. To people like Anastas. Adal made a silent vow to kill Anastas.

Adal operated differently from most people. He would spend days, weeks, months, even years searching for the same target so that he could eliminate him. He once spent six years searching for the same man. But that is a different story for a different time.