Collaboration with @silmarilz1701
Svetlana knew how to play the game. She'd been caught in the political drama of Stalin's inner circle since birth. The only child of one of Stalin's closest friends, she grew up in the limelight, scrutinized by frie...
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Sveta's body ached. Even with the few hours rest they'd been given, she could feel a headache creeping in, just at the base of her skull, squeezing at her brain. Lipton sat in the aid station now, Sveta just returned from getting him to the medics. And now, as she sat in a shadowed corner of Carentan, Sveta closed her eyes. Her head lay against brick. It shouldn't have been comfortable. It should've been uncomfortable, painful even. But from this dark spot of solitude, she could think in peace.
"You look miserable."
Sveta opened her eyes. Harry Welsh stood in front of her, smile gone but eyes as bright as ever. He took a drink. The way he half grimaced, she guessed that like hers, it wasn't water in his canteen. "We're at war, Harry."
"Really? Could've fooled me," he said. "Ready to go?"
"Are we moving out, then?"
He nodded. Gesturing back to his left, he continued, "Dick's talking to Strayer right now. Sounds like we're moving further south. We're supposed to expect a counterattack."
"Of course," she agreed. "I could've told you that. They're not going to give this up."
With a small grunt, he agreed with her. Sveta soon stood up and looked at the men meandering about the central square of Carentan. They'd lost Tipper, Lipton, and a few others to the initial assault. But it seemed that most of the men were in high spirits. It wouldn't last. It never did.
Zhanna sat with the mortar squad of Malarkey, Muck, and Penkala. More had joined them too, and for a moment a bit of anger flared up in her chest. More had been the perpetrator of many fierce insults during training. But as Zhanna just sat with them quietly, working away to clean her rifle, it faded. More didn't seem to object to her presence. So she shoved down the anger.
Sveta watched as Speirs moved through the courtyard, every so often talking to an enlisted soldier he passed. When he stopped by Zhanna's group, she tensed. The men all froze as well, but Zhanna just watched him closely. He said something, they just shook their heads, and then he moved to leave. But someone said something, and Speirs turned back around. He pulled out some cigarettes.
The next thing Sveta knew, Zhanna had taken the entire pack of cigarettes that Speirs had stolen from Compton, nodded with a small smile, and sat back down. Everyone froze. The mortar squad looked on in horror. More's eyes widened. All Sveta could see of Speirs was his lack of movement. Then he turned around.
Harry had started getting the men in order. "First Platoon, start getting your stuff together."
But Sveta met Speirs' gaze. He moved over to her straight away, a look between a pout and a frown on his face. As the enlisted men moved about gearing up and chatting, he joined her.
"Casmirovna just took my whole pack," he said.
Sveta shook her head, releasing a small breath. She'd very rarely, maybe never, seen Zhanna act like that. Based on the way Zhanna stood dwarfed by the enlisted, listening to them go on and on frantically about something, she guessed it had been an actual joke. She never joked.
