Alone as Always

John Doe had always been alone.

It all started with his birth in 1935, when he lost his mother during childbirth and earned the eternal aversion of his father, a brute Army man with little regard for sentimentality. Since the moment he was born, John Doe was alone.

As a military brat, John spent most of his childhood life moving to different states or countries whenever his father was transferred to new assignments. Because of that, John never had the time or opportunity to make friends or create strong bonds. While growing up, he remained alone.

In 1941, World War II broke out. Just one year later, John's father died in combat, leaving the young 6-year-old boy behind to fend for himself. He had no friends, no parents, and no family. With no one else in the world, John was now utterly and completely alone.

That is, until she came into his life.

The year was 1950. The Korean War had just started, and John Doe was eager to prove his worth. As such, he lied about his age and enlisted in the military. After all, the Army life was all he had ever known. The camaraderie he witnessed between soldiers was the closest thing to true bonds of companionship he had ever seen or experienced. The closest thing he could achieve to end his loneliness.

Soon after enlisting, John Doe became a private of the United States Army and was among the American troops sent to South Korea to provide military assistance in the war. It was there, in the middle of the battlefield, that he met her.

John could still remember it as if it had happened yesterday.

Right after the liberation of Seoul from North Korean invading forces in September 25th of 1950, the soldiers of the U.S. Army decided to celebrate. Most considered the battle won, though gunfire could still be heard coming from the outskirts of the city. John wanted to help in those last moments of the fight, but his fellow infantrymen weren't so keen on the idea.

"Shut up, Doe, we already did our part!" protested one of his companions, while another remarked, "We're just infantry, man. House-to-house combat is for the Marines. Dangerous stuff."

The men around agreed in unison. Everyone was tired and covered in dirt and blood. When it came down to it, they were just glad to have survived to live another day. And who could possibly blame them? John could understand that sentiment, but he didn't care.

"Those Marines could die out there!" he snapped in frustration, his M1 Carbine rifle dangling to his side. "Our help could save lives! Can't the General see that?"

"Nah man," chuckled a smug-looking fellow sitting nearby, "He's too busy boasting about how he took Seoul exactly in the third-month anniversary of the war!"

John snorted. "The man's a complete buffoon," he said, feeling at least a bit of satisfaction from his comrades' laughs.

"And what would you have us do instead?" asked a stoic female voice from behind him.

John turned to see a white woman in her mid-thirties approaching. She had neck-length blonde hair secured by a bandana that matched the dark green color of her fatigues. Her diamond shaped face bore a cold expression made more menacing by a subtle but stern look coming from her grayish blue eyes.

All the guys around were mesmerized by her, including John, who took a while to remember he should answer her question.

"Well..." he started, his eyes darting to his fellow soldiers before settling on the newcomer, "I'd send the Infantry Division to help the Marines fight off the remaining foes. They shouldn't be out there alone."

"Such a simple mind," the woman responded with a severe tone, looking away from John and towards the combat-filled suburbs. "You should listen to your friend. House-to-house combat is way too dangerous for infantry, it's nothing like firing your gun from the safety of cover. Death can be waiting at every corner. One must be proficient in close quarters combat to have a chance of survival."

John was taken aback by the woman's condescending manner. He glanced at the surrounding men, and while some were amused by the situation, others seemed to actually stop and reflect on her words. But John wasn't having it.

"We can handle it," he said in a cocky way. The woman stared at him with challenging cold eyes.

"Can you, now?"

John snorted, turning to his companions with a smug expression. Though there were hesitant faces, the guys that seemed entertained smirked and nodded in agreement with him. That didn't impress the woman.

"Then disarm me," she demanded, pulling her M1911 pistol from her holster.

"What?" John asked, not knowing whether to show amusement or perplexity.

"Prove you can handle yourself," she said, removing the magazine from her pistol. "Use your close quarters skills to disarm me."

Still baffled, John tried laughing it off, but knew by the woman's expression that she was dead serious. Looking around to his fellow soldiers, he could see that they were all either worried or excited, waiting in anticipation of what was about to happen.

"Alright then," he said, knowing he didn't have the choice to back down anymore, at least not without looking like a coward. "But don't complain if I hurt you."

The woman gave him a menacing smile as she pointed her unloaded gun at his face.

"I'll do my best," she said.

John took a stance and waited, studying the stranger in an attempt to figure her out. But he couldn't read her. The woman's face was a total blank, and her body was completely motionless. There was nothing else he could do but to just go for it. He made a sudden movement, trying to catch his challenger by surprise, but she was faster. And then everything happened way too quickly.

The woman's hand was on his before he could even touch her pistol. She used his own momentum to spin him around and lock his arm behind his back, causing an uncomfortable pain that soon became even worse when she kicked his heels and threw him back-first onto the ground, holding him at point-blank with his own Carbine rifle.

"If you were there with the Marines and I was an enemy, you would've been dead right now," she said in a harsh voice. "No cover to save you from my bullet."

John was still recovering from the impact, his vision blurry and trembling, the sounds muffled. He didn't even see at what point she holstered her weapon and took his rifle away from him. Her moves and technique were unreal.

As his senses came back to normal, John could see that everyone around was thinking the same thing: this woman was no regular soldier. Even the infantrymen who weren't part of the previous interaction stopped to look at the commotion. And, weirdly enough, no one was moving a finger to stop it. Even though the woman was clearly holding an ally at gunpoint.

"Wait a minute..." one of John's companions mumbled suddenly, "Those moves... Guys, I think... I think that's The Boss!"

The man immediately saluted her as he came into that realization, and the other soldiers looked at him and then at her, all unmoving due to either perplexity or cluelessness. One of them took a step back. He was trembling.

"You mean The Boss? The Mother of Special Forces?!" he asked, eyes open wide.

They had all heard the stories about her. Tales of a legendary soldier, leader of a small unit of amazing individuals who drove the Allies into victory during World War II. And it was rumored that this legendary soldier was among them now, fighting in the Korean War. Could this woman really be her? Could this be The Boss herself?

"No way!" said someone in the crowd, followed by several other remarks of bewilderment. After a buzz of whispers and gasps, one by one the men started to believe she was indeed The Boss. Soon enough they were all saluting her.

John, still on the ground, watched all this unfold and then turned his gaze to the woman, meeting her eyes. She still had a severe expression on her face, but it wasn't one of anger or dominance. It felt almost like a mother reprimanding her child after he had made a stupid mistake. The two stared at each other for a few seconds, until she finally seemed fed up with the turmoil around them.

"What are you all looking at?" she turned around and yelled for all to hear. "There is nothing to see here. Back to your posts! Leave!"

No one dared question her. Everyone took that as an order and immediately the crowd began to disperse. The men who had been celebrating their victory with John earlier gave him a quick worried look as they walked away, before proceeding to discuss excitedly among themselves.

After everyone was far enough away, the woman turned to John once again and extended her arm. He sat up on the ground and, after a moment of hesitation, figured it was best to make peace and accept her help to get back on his feet.

"Those were some impressive moves..." he stated as he shook the dust off his fatigues.

"Excuse me, private?" the woman said, defiantly.

John realized he was being way too informal and quickly stood at attention as he would with any superior officer. "Sorry ma'am! I was just... impressed, that's all."

She studied him briefly before asking, "What's your name, soldier?"

"John Doe, ma'am."

"John Doe...?" she rose an eyebrow, clearly skeptical and probably thinking he was playing tricks.

"It's an unusual name, I know," John said with an air of impatience, as he had to deal with that sort of reaction often, "But it's the name I was given."

The woman pondered for a few seconds, still suspicious, but soon enough she seemed to accept it. "Very well, John Doe. At ease."

John let himself relax a bit, then took his Carbine when she offered it back to him. He put the sling back on, letting the rifle hang to his side. While doing that, John felt his every move was being meticulously analyzed by the woman.

"The others seemed to know who I am," she said. "Do you?"

"I've... heard rumors."

"Such as?"

"The men tell stories," John started, trying to avoid the woman's gaze as he felt silly talking about such tales. "They talk about a legendary soldier. One who won World War II for us."

"Well, I didn't do it alone," the woman said in a nonchalantly way, her eyes moving to the horizon.

"So it's true?" asked John, barely able to hide his curiosity now that she basically confirmed who she was, "The legends about you and your secret unit?"

"The truth is never as beautiful as the legends," The Boss stated coldly, almost as if ashamed of the subject. Noticing that John was staring at her expectantly, she turned to him again. "But yes. I was the leader of the Cobra Unit, and we did help in bringing the Allies to victory. There's no use keeping it a secret by now."

"Amazing..." was all John could say. Official information on The Boss or on this Cobra Unit of hers was scarce, but all the tales were phenomenal and awe-inspiring. They told of a group of soldiers with supernatural abilities, capable of accomplishing the most impossible of missions. And most extraordinary of them was their leader, The Boss. To think she was standing there, right in front of him...

"Very well," she said, getting closer and letting her cunning eyes pierce through him. "Now that you've confirmed who I am, it's my turn to learn more about you. So tell me. What are you doing here?"

"Me?" John asked, not sure what answer he could possibly give to satisfy such an amazing individual. "I'm... just fighting for my country. Fulfilling my duty as an American soldier."

"You misunderstand me," The Boss' tone made John's hair stand. "What I ask is... What are you, at your age, doing in the middle of the battlefield?"

What? How could she know? John thought immediately, realizing too late he should've hidden his reaction to the question a bit better.

"I'm sorry ma'am," he babbled, "I'm not sure I under–"

"Don't lie to me!" she was so close now their noses were almost touching. "I knew the moment I put my eyes on you that you were too green. Your juvenile ideals and inflated ego just served to confirm it."

John was speechless. The Boss saw right through him and he knew nothing he said would convince her of his lie. Perhaps perceiving his discomfort, she took a step back, but didn't take her eyes off him.

"How old are you?" she asked. "Sixteen?"

"I'm... fifteen." John answered. There was no point in lying to her.

The Boss' expression shifted at the mention of his age and, for the first time, she didn't seem so strong or menacing anymore. In fact, for a split-second John could've sworn he saw deep sadness and melancholy and her eyes, right before she spoke in a trembling voice, "You're just a child."

Probably realizing she wasn't able to maintain her hardened façade, The Boss quickly turned her back to John. "You shouldn't be here," she said. "This is not a place for you. Go home!"

"What?! I'm sorry, but I won't–"

"If you don't go home," she snapped, staring him again and this time with a furious look on her face, "I'll report you for insubordination! Better to be shunned than to die a meaningless death!"

"No, you can't!" John yelled.

"I can, and I will. Think, child! What will your parents do if you don't return?"

He looked at her with an air of frustration and confusion. From the tone of her voice, this wasn't just about him breaking the rules. She seemed genuinely sad about his presence there. But why was she so worried about him? Why did she care how young he was?

"I don't have any parents," John said finally, looking away. "They've been dead for quite some time now."

Since The Boss didn't respond immediately, he looked at her again. This time the sorrow in her eyes could not be mistaken. For some reason, John knew she could relate to him somehow.

"Look, this," he motioned at the battlefield, "is my life. It's all I have."

"Why?" she was almost pleading now. "You are young. Your life could be anything else."

"It's all I've ever known," John sighed and shrugged. "And I don't mean just the military life. But fighting. Fighting for myself, and for my country. That's all I know how to do. All I'm good for."

She remained in silence, apparently in deep thought. So he continued, "You said this was not a place for me, but I disagree. I say it's the only place for me."

The Boss studied him for a long time, during which all they could hear was the sound of soldiers talking and laughing nearby, with some few and far between gunshots in the distance. Their eyes met, and John could see, as plain as day, that in addition to the melancholy there was also empathy.

"I see," she said at last, closing her eyes and letting out a short laugh. "I'm growing soft."

John wasn't sure how to react. That was certainly not how he was expecting this to go after she caught him on his lie.

"Listen to me," The Boss' expression was once again stern, her eyes giving him a steely gaze. "If you are to remain fighting in this war, then you will not leave my side. Do you understand?"

"What?" John made a face, clearly offended. "Look, I appreciate it, but I don't need protection."

"You do not have a say in how this goes," the woman said, pacing in front of him like a drill sergeant. "You either stay and keep close to me, or you go home. These are your only choices."

Well, these are some crappy choices, he thought. Of course, he would not abandon the war, that was out of the question. But to stay and have a babysitter? What would his fellow soldiers think? And if the stories were in fact real, he had no chance of slipping past her to join the rest of the infantry. It was unacceptable!

Not wanting to listen to his protests, The Boss kept going. "You will not leave my side, and you will do whatever I tell you to do. Even if it means disobeying a direct order from your commanding officer. Are we clear?"

John knew he didn't have much choice, so he would have to work with what he was given. Besides, she might be an incredibly capable soldier, but maybe in the chaos of battle he could have a chance of sneaking out of her sight. Maybe he would have to put up with her for just a few days, until the next battle. Considering the other option, this was definitely worth a shot.

"Are we clear?!" she repeated, getting impatient with his silence.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, in spite of himself.

The two of them stared at each other for a few seconds, and then The Boss smiled.

"Good," she said, and suddenly there was no more tension in the air. It was almost like a spell had been lifted. "Now come, John. Let's work on those sloppy close quarters skills of yours. You're gonna need them from now on."

Then again, John thought as she turned around and motioned for him to follow, maybe I could learn a thing or two while I'm at it.

And so he followed her.

John had no way of knowing at the time, but after that first exchange, he and The Boss would become completely inseparable. During the days of the Korean War, they would wake up at the same time, go to sleep at the same time, walk the same routes, and share all duties – except, of course, for when The Boss had to accomplish extra dangerous objectives such as infiltrating enemy territory, in which case John had no choice but to stay behind and join his fellow infantry men in simpler tasks.

While the war was still going, there was one particular moment the duo had to split up. It was around November 1951 when The Boss was called for a secret mission back at the U.S. When she returned a few weeks later, she revealed to John what she saw: the detonation of an atomic bomb. She didn't go into details of the test, but John could tell she was disturbed by it. The Boss was a strong woman, though, and not much changed in their routine after that.

By the end of the Korean War in 1953, John and The Boss had grown attached to each other. He saw so much wisdom in her, so much he could learn, and also a type of affection and care he didn't even think possible. What she saw in him, he didn't know. Maybe she was just worried he wouldn't last without her, or maybe she wanted to pass down her knowledge to someone else. Whatever the reason, both of them found it hard to part ways after the conflict was over. But John had a duty to the U.S. Army, and The Boss was a secret agent who worked for the CIA. It just wasn't meant to be.

Nevertheless, John couldn't let go. The Boss completed him, that was the simple truth. Without her, he went back to being alone in the world. And when he learned the Army was looking for subjects for a hydrogen bomb test, he remembered The Boss' experience back in '51, and decided to volunteer. Best case scenario, he would come to understand The Boss better, even if they couldn't be together anymore; worst case, he wouldn't survive the test and wouldn't need to be alone anymore. And so, in March 1st of 1954 John Doe took part in Operation Castle on Bikini Atoll.

Soon afterwards, The Boss learned about his little experiment and was furious. She contacted him, saying he was throwing his life away again. And then she realized that what happened could be turned into an opportunity for them to remain together. Using her connections in the government, The Boss had John Doe be declared dead on the Bikini Atoll test. With a new identity, John was placed on loan to the CIA in order to train under The Boss. That's when the two became officially master and pupil.

John and The Boss went on to spend six more years as an inseparable duo. In total, they spent nearly a decade together, during which The Boss taught John technique, strategy, philosophy and even different languages. After everything, she became more than just his mentor. She became his comrade and his best friend. She was the mother he never had. And, most importantly: with her by his side, John never felt alone.

Unfortunately, their relationship didn't last forever. In 1959, The Boss vanished without a trace or an explanation. John simply woke up one day to find her quarters completely empty, as if no one had ever lived there. He waited for her to come back, like he did the other times she had to leave on urgent matters. However, he knew deep down it was different this time. And he was right. She never returned. She was gone.

And once again, John Doe was alone.