Hermit on the run

Prologue

Mature content: viewer discretion is advised
John
Crack! I dodged the shot, ducking into the trees beside me, and continued to run through the dark woods. I could still hear the people yelling behind me.
Now I know what you're thinking: Why are people hunting me down?

Let me rewind to about ten years ago, in the middle of May. I was serving in the Canadian Special Operations. I had been ordered to eliminate some high profile targets who were the leaders of a terrorist organization in Brazil. We were working together with the Brazilian government to eliminate this group. My team and I had eliminated the primary target and were ordered to leave no survivors. My commanding officer didn't care that it was against the Geneva convention; he threatened to court-martial me if I defied the order. I followed through with it. After that mission, I was changed by the things I had to do and see, so I quit while receiving an honorable discharge.

Not wanting to keep anything to remind me of that life apart from my sidearm and knife, I became a lawyer. Luckily I had attended law school before joining the forces. I bought roughly four hundred and eighty acres of land and worked until it was paid off.

In the meantime, I lived frugally, keeping in contact with one of my buddies in the air force through letters. Eventually, I moved to the land. It was mostly pine forest with some poplars spread throughout. I built a small cabin and did what I could to ensure it was self-sufficient. Solar power, modern plumbing (with a well), and a few other things. There was a lake there with great fishing and plentiful game. I also bought a horse to help haul things and travel quickly through the woods.