Character Name: Major Jonas H. Coolwater, US Army, Ret.
Character Gender: Male
Prime Motivator: Justifiable Homicide

Narrative:
Civil Affairs Division.
There didn't turn out to be much civility in Alaska, did there?
Not that the Canadian Pacification Program was particularly civil, either, but at least I got to do the job I was trained for.
Alaska went tits-up fast.
I was there when the ye---... when the Chinese invaded. R&R at a little hunting camp/brothel about 100 miles inland from Anchorage.
80-odd officers from 40-odd units, none of us below Major, and 100 or so support staff and another 100 or so ... hostesses.
General Fontaine was convinced that after 33 years riding a succession of ever-larger desks his moment had finally come and did his best to organize us into a behind the lines resistance and sabotage cell.
His best wasn't very good.

There were only twenty-seven of us left by the time we hooked up with the survivors of the commando team.
Their mission was spectacularly FUBARed, and they were every bit as cut off from support as we were, but Genius Jonas here decided that we could salvage their mission.
And we did. In a fashion.
Because by then I had discovered I had a gift for violence. And ruthlessness.
I could make sacrifices and still face myself in the mirror when I shaved.
So I made some sacrifices.
The goo-- the Chinese lost their supply dump, and I slunk back to the camp with three remaining commandos and the two Trixies.

The High Brass was really pleased with me at first.
There were medals, press conferences, even a photo with the President.
Then someone dug up Col. Tillerman's journals, and they learned what happened to Fontaine.
Having made me a hero, they could hardly turn around and prosecute me, so they had me diagnosed with severe battle fatigue and sent me to Parsons for "treatment."

Parsons was not fun. I'll just leave it at that.
But Alaska didn't break me, so neither did that place.
I'm not sure how she found out about me, but some hotshot young lawyer took up my case and got me released with a clean record.
Then I found out what her fee was.
Turned out she was knocked up and needed to get married in a hurry if her hopes for a political career were gonna survive.

So we settled down in Sanctuary Hills, and pretended to be a happy little family.
I was almost able to fool myself that I actually was happy. Sometimes for weeks at a time.
Then the anger would build up to the point I needed to hurt someone.
I didn't love Nora, but I was grateful to her, so I kept things away from the neighborhood, despite how much I would have loved to kick the crap out of that kid across the street.
I'd usually go somewhere in Southie to cut loose. Play drunk at some dive, wait 'til somebody tried to roll me, then take them out.
I'm not sure how long I'd have gotten away with it, but somebody pushed the big red button and I became the coldest cold case ever.

--to be continued--