Near a small cabin on the edge of the Canadian/US boarder:
The phone in the corner of the cabin kept ringing, over and over again. He had ignored it more than once as he stood on the river bank fishing pole in hand. The cigar smoke blew from his lips as he spoke to his wolf. "When will they learn to leave me alone Sheba?" He pet her on the head and cast another line. He had been long retired, leaving the life of a solider, mercenary..... killer behind him. He was content to let the world destroy it'self without his hand on the blade, but they never seemed done with him. Long ago he had given up the mace, the blade, the Mohawk. He was now just an part time crab fisher, full time recluse. The sun was setting and he began to pack up his gear when Sheba gave out a low growl. The thumbing sound of heli blades was slight in the distance and he knew they were coming for him.
In his drive parked next to his old Bronco was a new state of the art fast attack heli. Slowing walking up the trail he saw a group of black ops soldiers standing at alert around the heli. Once again Sheba let out a low growl. Seeing him walking up in jeans and a flannel shirt with his long hair pulled back didn't stop the men from hitting a strong salute as he approached. "Major Anderson sir." Shaking his head Hawk threw his pole into the back of his truck and walked into his cabin. Sitting next to his fireplace with her feet on the coffee table, smoking one of his cigars was a woman in her early 30's. Her long blonde hair was pulled back with military precision, but she wore black slacks and a white blouse and black high heels. She didn't stand as he entered the cabin, just took another long drag of his cigar and blew the smoke high into the air. "So I have been promoted?" He asked sarcastically. She just nodded as he poured himself and her a glass of bourbon. She accepted the glass with a nod and without saying a word turned her ipad and hit play before handing it to him and getting up and walking out the door. Only stopping to pet Sheba on her head on the way out. Sheba wagging her tail looked over to Hawk as he studied the scene on the ipad.
"He is in." She said into her phone before stepping into the helicopter. The voice on the other side returned, "Good. What did you say to him to convince him?" With a slight smile "Not a word."
He stood looking on from a distance. A bottle of Jack hanging loose in his hand, taking swigs as he watched horseman work their deeds. He stood studying their movements and showing off their abilities, each possessing some form of power. Finishing off the bottle he threw it shattering on the ground before starting his slow walk forward. His long hair lay across his shoulders as the dew wet it. His eyes focused on the scene in front of him. Every step was intentional, every move as he made his way was purposed. Slowly he unsheathed his sword, which was tinted red with the blood of those who had fallen under it. This wings remained hidden, ready to explode into action at any moment. He continued to walk.
The smell of burning flesh and hair filled the air. The decay was already around him but he continued the long walk to what could be his final death. He mouthed his favorite poem.
On a dark night,
Kindled in love with yearnings–oh, happy chance!–
I went forth without being observed,
My house being now at rest.
In darkness and secure,
By the secret ladder, disguised–oh, happy chance!–
In darkness and in concealment,
My house being now at rest.
In the happy night,
In secret, when none saw me,
Nor I beheld aught,
Without light or guide, save that which burned in my
This light guided me
More surely than the light of noonday
To the place where he (well I knew who!) was awaiting me–