It's impossible to stay out of it. Once you dedicate your life to the military, make a name for yourself, you can never get out. United States army for a short time. Showed some promise and then selected for a different division of the government's strong-arm. The "Capture and Detainment of Powered Individuals" division. That's where I made a name for myself, and let me tell you: the names you make never leave.
I’m the man I was raised to be, a tough guy. I don’t get hurt easy, and that’s just a part of who I am. I don’t worry about myself, I don’t care about the consequences of my actions. Since I was a boy, I’ve been made to do the job I was given. My dad would tell me what to do, chop the wood, go to the store, clean the house. I did a lot of work and he spent most of his time drinking, but that’s what happens when you’re a broken man. I forgive him, not having a wife around to look after me, not having much of a job to feed me. But he always did. So he could get mean at times, he could yell and hit, but he did love me.
But anyway, government sets up this group of specially picked people like myself to go out and hunt the people that nature picked specially. I’ve been up against some nasty stuff, guys who can throw fire, laser eyes, one dude could turn into water. Nasty stuff. It’s just the world we live in, I guess, and not everybody is so great at tuning out those mean thoughts, even when they’re handed the tools to make a difference. So we hunted these men and women, down on their luck and doing wrong to make ends meet, and either took them in, or killed them like animals.
A lot of them come up with ridiculous names for themselves, something to do with whatever ability they have in them. I remember every last one that I heard or read. Something about it appeals to me, I don’t know. The idea that somebody can be their own person, not named just because, or because of what they’re supposed to be. A name that you choose.
The nickname that you earn, that’s the one that defines you. I always got the job done, always made sure that there was absolutely no chance for failure. Buildings could be destroyed, casualties could pile up, lives could be ruined, but the mission would not fail. There was an incident in Alaska, really small town called Quinhagak. I got my name there, that’s when they started calling my “Colonel Overkill.”
And I couldn’t shake the name, couldn’t shake what I was raised to be. I’d run in, guns going off and resulting in death, and the name would just get stronger. In a way, the name made me this way. I had the reputation, and got the name, and so I grew to fit my clothes. I quit a few years later, failure in Lucerne, and I moved back into my old house.
They never stopped knocking at the door, sending me letters and e-mails, or calling during dinner. I ignored just about every one of them, until the end. Promised me a new job, new location. Hell, I’d even lead the damn team. I could do things my way. Well, not quite. They wanted things to get done “Overkill’s” way. A national hero, somebody who had medals and fatigues and a reputation. And see, that’s how they pulled me back in, and I probably won’t get a chance to leave again. The job suits me fine now, but when it comes time to put on the fatigues and kill somebody trying to live up to their own name, we’ll just see how content I am.
