The Hated Hero
I was recruited in my junior year of college by an unknown Government agency. Merely mentioning the name was considered treason, so, obviously, I can’t divulge it. If I had known then the tragedy that would befall me, I would have been more hesitant to join.
“You will be doing your country a great service if you join, Mr. Fields.” My recruiter said smoothly. He was a tall, older fellow. His hair was a silvery grey, speckled with bits of stubborn black. This, instead of making him seem old and useless, gave him a wizened look. He had an air about him that made you want to obey.
“What exactly does this entail sir?” I questioned cautiously.
“Besides a sizable seven figure salary?” He said as he smiled his winning smile. “We need someone to track down and infiltrate a suspected terrorist group located here in America. You will have access to any asset you need: passports, private air transport, all of the latest tech and weapons, and the best training this country can offer.
I was still apprehensive so I inquired one more thing.
“But why do you want me sir? I’m just a nobody.”
“Exactly.” He mysteriously replied. “You are no one; you would be the last person someone would think was a spy. Also, you’re good kid.
“Good sir?” I said questioningly.
“Yeah, good, moral. You “walk the straight and narrow.”We don’t have many people like you in this business. It would be refreshing. So, what do you say?”
“Well...”I said slowly. “I accept. When do I start sir?”
“Next week. You will meet your trainer here (he handed me a small black card embroidered with golden type) next Monday at five A.M. Goodbye Nathaniel” With that he began to walk away.
“But sir! You haven’t given me your name!”
“It’s ‘Smith’ kid, but you probably could have guessed that.”And he strolled off leaving me utterly perplexed.
Fast-forward a few years and I have never stopped being confused. I never saw this ‘Mr. Smith’ again. My training lasted three cruel years, years spent becoming a hardened Government agent capable of taking down almost any foe. As soon as my training was complete I was assigned the mission that was the reason I joined.
The U.S. government believed that there was a steadily rising terrorist threat in our country. They had intercepted information that alluded to nuclear weapons being placed all over America. If the information was correct, all of America was in danger of extinction. It took me two years to find this terrorist sanction, and another year to gain their trust. After living with them for six months, I learned the locations of each of the explosives. The list was frightening! There were no less than thirty nuclear weapons placed at strategic U. S. cities!
I still had time however; I learned that they were still waiting a year and a half before detonation. I knew what I had to do. I had to go deeper into the inner sanctum than ever before. There were consequences to this though. I had to cut off all communication with my government handlers and abandon my friends and family. I knew what they would think of me. My family would feel as though I had disowned them and the United States Government would think that I had gone rouge. They had no idea how much I was sacrificing for them. Neither did I.
For the next year and a half I went deeper and deeper trying to learn where the launch codes were. I was running out of time! The launch day was growing nearer and nearer and I was beginning to become frantic! Finally, with two days until Judgment Day (as they were calling it), I found it. I was able to take out all terrorist threats and seal myself in the room with the codes inside. It was then that I realized an ominous ticking noise. The codes had already been emplaced and the missiles were set to launch in less than 48 hours! I ran to the computer terminal and began putting my computer hacking skills to work. I knew that with over thirty missiles in place I didn’t have much time. Hour after hour I worked while the timer mocked me. With ten hours to go I only had eight more missiles to disarm. Six hours: five to go. Three hours: only two more! Two hours: twenty-nine down, one left. An hour, half hour, twenty minutes, only ten minutes left until launch! Five, four, three two, NOOOOOOOO!!!!
I had failed, one nuclear weapon had still launched. I learned afterward that it that it struck ground along the San Andreas Fault, causing a massive earthquake that broke the hold that California had on the U.S. It was so devastating that all of California sank to a watery grave, killing millions of people. The fallout and radiation continued to spread until the West Coast was blanketed in deadly toxins.
I don’t know when the United States Government broke into the launching room and captured me. I was too devastated. I didn’t even protest and try to let them know that I was one of them.
Two days later I awoke to darkness, a sharp pain in my wrists and shoulders. All I knew of my surroundings was what I could hear and smell. There was a steady dripping somewhere to my left. The room smelled damp and moldy. Suddenly, a door opened in front of me and I was blinded by bright light. I received a sharp blow to my head and once again conceded to unconsciousness.
I awoke once again, this time after a bucket of ice water was dumped on my head. I was then forced to endure beating after relentless beating. My captors only paused to question why I had done it.
“I’m sorry!” I gasped again and again. “I couldn’t stop it! I tried so hard!”
They never believed me. Finally, I was shot, pointblank and never spoke again.
It wasn’t until after they killed me that they realized how wrong they were. In their defense, they found me passed out from exhaustion and grief over the launch controls. All evidence pointed to me being the guilty party. After my death, they discovered the truth about the true gravity of what could have happened and they were immediately humbled. The damage to my reputation, however, had already been done. The story of my traitorous ways had gone out, and I was now more despised than Adolf Hitler. It was difficult to get the truth out. Even after my corpse was awarded the Medal of Honor and laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery, people still thought I was behind the attack. Once tarnished, my name was never again clean. This is what it takes to be a hero. I died to save the lives of billions of people. I’m satisfied with that. Now I rest eternally in God’s arm. I am the Hated Hero.
Good story. You could use this as the basis for a novel.
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