This one goes back to the early days of the Sunbow Joes and features two of my favorite mis-matched Joes: Lady Jaye and Shipwreck. Throughout most of the series, Lady Jaye and Shipwreck carried on a sort of "love-hate" friendship. But what did Lady Jaye really think about Shipwreck?
I've always wanted to write a story from Lady Jaye's POV. This is my attempt.
As always, thank you for reading and reviewing. :)
I read people pretty quickly, always have. It's just something I do. Even as a small child, I was keenly aware of signals nearly invisible to everyone else. I could see things—minute details or inconsistencies. It might be a small displacement of hair, an odd expression on the face, or even a slight bend in the shoulders—but I'd see it and know something was wrong. Then, like a game, I'd do my best to figure out why—even when it came with a price.
I remember a conversation I had with my father one time when he'd found me curled up on my bed, crying. I'd just caught my best friend in a bold-faced lie.
"Allie, what you do is a gift," he told me gently as he sat down. "I know it's hard for you now, but someday you'll grow into it."
"How do you know?" I asked, rising to my knees.
"I just do," he said softly, pulling me onto his lap and kissing the top of my head. "I think I know you better than I know myself sometimes," he whispered.
I snuggled against his chest, breathing in the spicy wood scent of his aftershave and more faintly, the sweetness of mother's perfume. A heavy sigh rose up and out of me. Somehow, I didn't think he'd still call it a gift if he knew I was aware of his arguments with mother, even when they were careful not to do it in front of me. They pretended it never happened. I pretended I didn't know.
I had already become very good at acting.
As I grew older, though, I came to realize that my father had been right. I did grow into my ability, more or less. I learned to hone it and put it to better uses. For example, I learned to recognize truth as opposed to when someone was lying or trying to hide something. I also learned to recognize when someone was bluffing, or intending real harm. And with the type of work I now do—dealing with some of the most dangerous terrorists of our day—it's become an ability that serves me well, an ability I've learned to use in whatever situation I find myself.
But my reading of people isn't just limited to the missions I go on, or to my enemies. I also use it in my daily life—to tell me who I can trust, who is genuine, and who is a potential friend. And being a Joe, constantly interacting with other Joes, this has become especially useful.
It's well-known fact that we Joes are an eclectic group made-up of individual personalities ranging from the extremely outgoing to the ultra-private, don't-talk-to-me crowd. This isn't surprising though, when you factor in our various backgrounds and specialities. And even though we may be the best of the best when it comes to being soldiers, that doesn't automatically mean we all get along. Some Joes are easier to like than others and all friendships take effort. But, there are those few Joes you find yourself drawn to almost instantly: Dusty, Ripcord and Roadblock, for instance. And there are those that grow on you and become good friends over time: Mainframe, Cover Girl, Lifeline and Alpine. Others, you can't help but respect, almost from the moment you meet them: Hawk, Duke, Snake Eyes and Scarlett. And then there are those Joes—Beach Head, Lowlight, and Clutch—so completely unapproachable that you have to accept them just as they are, and from a safe distance. Most of the Joes fall neatly into these four groups, or some combination of them—even Flint, who's a little bit of everything all thrown together. And so much more.
But defying all classification, a man whose courage, loyalty and complete lack of tact I find myself puzzling over even to this day, is Shipwreck.
I still remember the first time we met. Our introductions came quite unexpectedly, with the return of lost friends I had nearly convinced myself I'd never see again.
I suppose I'd better explain.
We Joes were transporting a powerful energy source called the Laser Core when Cobra attacked. They overpowered us and managed to get away with the Core. In the process, Duke and Snake Eyes were taken as prisoners.
True to our motto, though, we didn't give up. While I led the majority of the Joes back to base to regroup, Flint and Scarlett gave chase with two squadrons of Skystrikers backing them. But 40,000 feet up and going nearly Mach 1, they were hit suddenly by a massive storm—a storm, we later learned, that was part of an elaborate trap designed by Destro.
Back at the Pitt, though, we had no clue what was happening. First, we lost all radio contact. Then, Flint's team disappeared from radar. We didn't know whether they were alive or dead. Scarlett told us later that the last thing she saw was Flint falling in a slow spiral before disappearing into the clouds, her own having just barely escaped.
Cobra had us by the throat and they knew it. They had Duke and Snake Eyes—and the Laser Core. And they had set in motion a plan so devastating that if left unchecked, it would destroy the world. Our priority was clear. So, for all intents and purposes, Mutt, Junkyard, Roadblock and Flint were on their own—if they were still alive.
And I truly hoped with all my heart, they were.
At the time, Flint and I were both still fairly new to the team. Flint had recently joined the ranks as second in command behind Duke. Apparently, the two had worked together in the past and Duke had asked him personally. Flint had jumped at the chance, or so I heard. I joined around the same time—signing up with the Joes in a lesser role as Intel and Covert Ops. Like always, though, I was determined to prove myself—just like I had done for my Airborne and Ranger qualifiers. It wasn't long before I found myself being handed more and more responsibility. I began heading out on missions—sometimes even co-leading them—as well as training new recruits. From there, my leadership roles expanded and before I knew it, I was sitting in on leaders' meetings.
Right away, I found Duke and Scarlett easy to work with. And despite all the mixed words and warnings I had been given about General Hawk, I found him easy to work with, too. Beneath the General's stern exterior, we—I guess I can't say it any other way—connected. It turned out that my upbringing and family experiences shared similarities with his own. We understood one another on many levels. But more than that, my ability to read people confirmed it—I knew I could trust the man with my life.
Flint, however, remained an enigma.
From the very beginning, Duke and Hawk paired us up. Flint was an amazing tactician and military strategist. That was obvious. And he was more than ready to let me, and everyone else, know it. But despite his bloated confidence, we worked well together. We fed off of each other, pushing each other, working as if by instinct. We were good together—very good—and everyone else saw it, too. And the more time we spent together, the better we got. I learned to trust him implicitly. And he, me. As a result, our friendship deepened quickly and was soon threatening to become something—more. Not that either one of us were ready to make that move. I, for one, was not about to jeopardize everything I had worked for on the off-chance of a relationship. But even I had to admit that I was feeling something new for the man. Then, I began catching glimpses of something else beneath his arrogant exterior, something entirely different—a man with not only a brilliant mind, but the soul of a poet—a man that intrigued me. I decided do a little digging to figure out why.
"So, I noticed you attended Oxford," I began carefully.
"Yeah."
"What did you study?"
"Why?" he glared at me.
I shrugged. "No reason. Just trying to make conversation."
He frowned.
"I mean it," I insisted. "I'm just trying to get to know you better. That's all." I pouted slightly. "Please?"
He gazed at me and then sighed. "Fine. If you must know, it was English Lit."
"English Lit?" My eyes widened in interest. "Really? That's hardly a military major," I quipped.
"Military wasn't my only interest."
"Oh, and literature was?"
"At the time, yes."
I thought back to my own college days and smiled. I could understand that. I had had my own interests, not so very different from his, it seemed. "O for a life of sensations rather than thoughts—" I whispered softly.
"John Keats," he said automatically.
Our eyes met.
"So, you do know!" I exclaimed.
He smiled. "Of course I do." He began to speak, his voice deepening into a rich baritone. "What the imagination seizes as beauty must be truth."
"Keats, again," I said faintly. I could hardly believing what I was hearing. I didn't even care that I was staring.
"Correct." The corners of his mouth lifted. "And since you're so smart, how about trying this one?" His grin widened. "The intellectual power, through words and things, Went sounding on, a dim and perilous way!"
I frowned, wracking my memory. "Wordsworth?" I finally ventured.
A deep chuckle rose out from his throat. "That's it. You got it."
"So, you really are a lit major," I said in awe.
"Yeah." He grinned sheepishly. "Don't let it get around, though."
"Why not?"
"Why do you think, Lady Jaye?" He tapped me playfully on the forehead. "Do you really think I can rally the troops by quoting Shakespeare?"
I shook my head and laughed softly. He had a point.
"Now it's your turn." He slid nearer, till our knees were just touching. His voice lowered. "How do you know Keats?"
I felt my cheeks heating. I was more than aware of his closeness. "I went to Trinity," I stammered.
"I'm listening."
And so, I proceeded to tell him my story.
It became the beginning of that something "more."
I was by that time a full-fledged member of Hawk's tight, inner circle of leadership alongside Duke, Flint and Scarlett. So, when my opportunity came at last and Scarlett put me in charge of my first mission, I didn't hesitate. I simply accepted.
Which brings me back to Flint—and Shipwreck.
Flint had disappeared and it looked like he was gone—possibly forever. And there was nothing I could do. Worse, I'd never even told him how I really felt, and I couldn't, of course, tell anyone else about it, either. So, I buried it. Deep down inside my heart. Then, masking my worry and grief, I did what I had always done—I acted. It was the performance of lifetime, a performance my drama professors would have been proud of.
Leaving Flint and his team to fend for themselves was probably the hardest thing I'd ever had to do.
But against all odds, Flint and Mutt survived and managed their own escape—and they made it safely back to us.
I'll never forget the moment he stepped through the supply doors with that wonderful, lopsided grin on his face. A lump rose into my throat and I just barely choked out the words. "We all kept hoping you'd make it back, Flint."
"Thanks," Flint said, clearing his own throat. His eyes locked onto mine. "That means a lot. Knowing that your buddies miss you, I mean."
I smiled, though my insides felt like they were melting into a messy puddle of goo.
Then Shipwreck spoke. "You're his buddy?"
Startled, I jumped and turned toward the unfamiliar voice, tearing my gaze from Flint.
A broad shouldered man had pushed his way forward. He was wearing an open-collared, short-sleeved blue shirt, blue wide-legged pants and black gloves. On his right arm, I noticed the tattoo of an anchor. A white sailor hat was pulled down over a head of thick brown hair. He was Navy—but not exactly. A non-regulation scruffy beard covered the lower half of his face, but it didn't even come close to hiding his grin.
I looked at him in utter confusion.
"This guy helped me out, Lady Jaye," Flint explained. He was acting like he'd just brought home a stray pup. "Saved my neck, too." He broke into an idiotic grin.
"I'd rather save yours," the man took a step closer, his grin widening as he slowly looked me up and down.
My smile withered on my lips. To say I didn't like the man would have been an understatement, but I couldn't have said why. I didn't pick up on any of the usual warning signals. Despite his all his brashness, I knew he wasn't a threat—it was just him. I steadied my gaze. "Um, thanks," I said.
"The name's Shipwreck." He stretched out a hand. "Yours?"
"Lady Jaye. Pleasure to meet you," I lied. I took his hand and gave him a carefully measured smile.
"The pleasure is all mine, doll."
"Doll?" I yanked back my hand. My voice became hard, like ice. "I'm not a toy," I said.
Suddenly, I became aware of the silence around the room, the eyes of all the Joes on us. I took a deep breath and turned toward Scarlett. "With your permission, my team will be leaving."
"Permission granted."
"—Team? What team?" Flint pushed aside Shipwreck, looking quickly from Scarlett to me.
"A team to retrieve one of the pieces of Destro's Weather Dominator," Scarlett said impatiently.
"What?"
"It's a long story, Flint," I said quickly. "Basically, Destro's weather gizmo thing shot into orbit and came down in three pieces—"
Joes around the room were nodding their heads.
"—And now we've gotta race against Cobra to retrieve them," Recondo broke in.
"—And put 'em back together," Gung Ho added.
"—So we can fix the weather," Scarlett finished. "Torpedo and Wild Bill have already gone after the first fragment. Lady Jaye's leading another team after the second.
Flint scratched at the heavy stubble on his chin and frowned. "I guess I missed a few things while we were gone."
"A few." I smiled and then turned back to Scarlett. "Now?"
"Now." She nodded.
It was time to go. Grabbing my javelin pack, I slung it over my shoulder and looked around at my first Joe team. Grim determination was written on each face, the same determination I knew was on mine. A fierceness broke over me. This was my team and we were not done yet—not by a long shot. "Come on, gang. We've got a world to save!" I shouted. "Yo Joe!"
"Yo Joe!" Answering cries rose up from all corners of the room as we ran for the exit.
"Go get 'em Joes!" Scarlett's voice carried after us. "Good luck!"
End notes: This chapter refers to Sunbow's "The Revenge of Cobra," parts 1 and 2.