Looking like an infamous holo-screen star has it's advantages. So it was for the man known as Crossfire. Sure his uncanny likeness facilitated his ability to "entertain" impressionable ladies, but more usefully, the sheer necessity of avoiding the crowds notice required the perfection of an art, the art of stealth.

When the war started Crossfire was no different from any other unschooled but patriotic youth, he enlisted as such youths have always done and unwittingly did the bidding of older, richer men.

The Marines took the likeable mischievous lad and went to work on him, they trained him and put him to work on the enemy. Eventually there was nothing left of the lad, just the killing machine Crossfire had become.

In those days mutations were never considered, never tested. No-one guessed at the subtle, quiet powers at work within Crossfire, indeed he had no idea himself what made him tick, what made him so very deadly at his job.