August 8th

Ok…I’m back in Trans Carpathia again.

Protecting Destro…again….

Never a dull moment on this team.

I got the call while Red and I were munching on pizza and watching some old movies. Dial Tone had patched through a call directly to my quarters, and Hawk voice blasted though the line. He wanted me by his side again, asap.

I slept on the transport plane out…which I have to tell you is far from comfortable…but you learn to get whatever rest you can in the weirdest places you can imagine…all so that you are alert when the battle finally comes.

I remember once falling asleep curled up in a tree with Flint. I couldn’t tell if he was amused or pissed that he had to stay up the whole time to make sure I didn’t roll off the branch and end up tumbling to the ground.

I just heard my name…hold on…

…Sorry, Stalker and Dusty just arrived with the Brawler and some other heavy equipment. I had to help off load.

When I mentioned that I heard them call my name, I should point out that out that out here I am not known as Alison.

I’m Lady Jaye.

Each and every member of the team is given a code name when they join GIJOE. Some… like Flint, Duke and Roadblock…brought their nicknames from their days in reg force with them when they joined. Most, however, are given them on their first day with the team.

Usually, the names are to chosen reflect the soldier’s specialty - Rip Cord is a paratrooper, Mutt is a dog Handler, Ace is a pilot…you get the picture. Others have code names that reflect some obvious part of their personality, look or history that is unique…like Scarlett whose code name came from both her long red hair and last name (O’Hara).

As for myself…mine is a bit harder to pinpoint if you don’t know me. Most people think that Jaye is like the letter ‘J’ for the javelins I am so fond of using…a fancier way of saying Javelin Woman.

Not so simple…

‘Lady’ actually is taken from my full name as it is on paper. Yes, that’s right…I am Lady Alison Hart-Burnett.

You see, the Harts had pretty much everything they could ever dream of. Money, power, prestige…but they were missing one thing to make their lives complete…one thing that my grandmother and great grandmother spent their lives yearning for.

A title. A ‘Noble’ title.

Sure, for some crazy amount you can purchase a title quite easily these days…and needless to say my family certainly had the funds. However, that was too ‘vulgar’ for the Harts. They wanted things done the old fashioned way.

That’s where my father came in. Lord Andrew Burnett…

It was an arranged marriage if there ever was one…my father was quite a bit older than my mother and she had only met him on a few social occasions before the announcement was made. It was a business arrangement. The Harts got their title and the Burnett’s were tapped into to a financial mother- load. Enough to maintain their estates for a long time to come…

Can you believe it? In this day and age?

That also explains why my name is hyphenated…Hart had to be associated with my title…so it wouldn’t be lost when my mother passed on. I cannot TELL you how many ‘heart-burn’ jokes I put up with as a kid. Despite the official name on all my files…if you ask me my name I will always say simply Alison Burnett…

Anyhow, I was brought up in what certainly amounts to a “quasi-Victorian” household. So ‘Lady’ means so much more than just the title. I was trained from day one to be the epitome of one. My grandmother was the worst when it came to this stuff…

How to dress like a lady, eat like a lady, converse like a lady…etiquette was the order of the day. Posture, table manners, you name it…I know it…

Is it any wonder I rebelled so early in life? It was like living in a time warp.

Thank god my father was on my side, let me be a kid…run in the mud puddles and skin my knee…my mother was not as tough as Grandmonster Hart, but she expected me to behave properly.

Boarding school was a WELCOME escape.

Admittedly it was not all bad. I did get to attend some very good schools, and I never wanted for anything. I made some very good friends among the children of family friends. My father and I had some great adventures, traveling to many parts of the world at an early age. My mother was as sharp as a tack. She ran the household, volunteered at several charities, played the cut throat high society game like a pro, and ran her division of the family business like a well oiled machine…and basically was a pretty good example of a strong/liberated woman even with the antiquated thinking thrust upon by her upbringing.

Too bad we were always at each other’s throats.

Very few people know about this side of me. I tried to keep it a secret from the other Joes but unfortunately, because of my grandmother’s sneaky ways a few of the Joes clued in early on.

I had told her I would meet her at the restaurant…but no, she insisted on having the driver come pick me up. I walked out of barracks to find quite a few of my teammates surrounding the Bentley. Before I could escape, the full liveried chauffer spotted me…and with a flourish opened the door with nod and a curt ‘m’Lady’.

It was so embarrassing. It was a while before the guys stopped bowing every time I walked into the room.

Anyhow…so in spite of the ‘cheeky’ soldier you see today, in spite of the path my life has taken…what I learned early in life is still there. It probably permeates all I do, and I can really turn it on at a moments notice…

The snob switch!

And of course it comes on a hundred fold when I loose my temper with Flint and go, how does he put it, all ‘hoity-toity’ on him.

Looking back now, I can honestly say that all those lessons I so hated have been pretty helpful. They lend you an air of dignity and grace despite what might be going on about you. It helps you remain in control under duress…and as my mother used to say…good manners never go out of style.

So…you are probably wondering what the Jaye stands for?

It was actually my original nickname from the army, and I have to tell you I was mortified when it was given to me.

Remember how I have mentioned how unprepared for Boot Camp I was? Well, I wasn’t kidding. The worse part was dealing with the rude and very loud Drill instructors. I had no idea how to react when these big men started shouting in my face…I had spent the good part of my life first among ‘polite’ society and then quiet academics.

It made me very nervous…

And in those days, when I got very nervous…I babbled.

One day, one of the drill sergeants…Blake I think…had had enough of it and screamed at the top of his lungs in front of the entire company…

“BURNETT…IF YOU DON’T STOP JABBERING LIKE A DEMENTED BLUE JAYE I AM GOING TO TAPE YOUR MOUTH SHUT!”

From that day forward, everyone called me Jaye.

I don’t think I ever babbled again.

Stalker is calling me again. I had better go.

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