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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For all her dislike of Nixon, Zhanna couldn't deny he could keep a secret. When the Vat 69 had left her body and the desperation for numbness had likewise departed, she realized how much she had told. The puzzle was half completed and she had just handed Lewis Nixon the rest of the pieces. It wouldn't take long for him to put them into place and she hadn't been too convinced of his ability to shut his mouth. Much to her surprise and relief, not a word was said, even when they moved from The Island to Mourmelon.
Before the whiskey had left her system, she did tell a bloody-knuckled Sveta, of her parents' death. Zhanna didn't have to live with any ill feelings for her secrecy for long. Sveta and Speirs, out on patrol one night, were shot and sent to a hospital in France. While Sveta had been sympathetic to Zhanna, there was an underlying feeling of hurt.
Zhanna hadn't told her about Janusz until after it was discussed with Nixon and Winters. Zhanna, again, hadn't told Sveta about Casimir and Agata until Winters and Nixon had been informed. It wasn't intentional. Zhanna would rather have told Liebgott about her losses in life than share it with Nixon but when the moment had come and the news had burst from her chest, Sveta wasn't there and Winters and Nixon were.
If Nixon had put two and two together he didn't let on, and for that small mercy, Zhanna was grateful. She was also grateful that she saw very little of Winters as they settled into their new position. He was much too busy with the new CO. In their final days in Holland, Moose Heyliger was caught in friendly fire and had been taken to France for recovery. They hadn't heard much news, none had reached Zhanna, and all they knew was the outlook wasn't good. They had lost one CO and they had received another in his stead, a man named Dike. Zhanna's opinion of him wasn't kind. As first impressions went, she thought their introduction a sad excuse.
He had seen her from behind, not participating in the formation marches that had filled Easy Company's days now that they were off the line and were activities that Zhanna had never taken part in. She was a First Lieutenant and there was no platoon in her charge. She had stood near Winters, and then Heyliger when such drills were performed. Zhanna had last marched with Sobel, a miserable memory that she tried to forget.
"Soldier, why are you not in formation?"
"Sir?" Zhanna turned, her helmet had covered her cropped blonde hair and from the back, her small frame concealed her as a very thin soldier. Liebgott was slighter than she was so Zhanna had never cared but coming face to face with First Lieutenant Norman Dike, she couldn't be denied for what she was: a woman, and a woman of the same rank as Easy's new CO. She narrowed her eyes, warning Dike but he plunged onward, not caring or recognizing who she was.
Zhanna had come to assume the same kind of power Sveta had possessed in Stalingrad but hers had a different weight to it. Zhanna's power came from the calluses on her hands and the rifle on her back. Soldiers knew who she was. They knew that she was one of the Russians, the sniper, the one who had broken Liebgott's nose, and had turned an outfit of Germans on their tail during the battle for Carentan. They knew who Lieutenant Casmirovna was and what she did. That kind of power was addicting and she devoured it. Would it last after the war? Unlikely but in the space left by the hope for her parent's safety, Zhanna stored up the giddiness and the strength that the men's respect gave her. Dike would learn too, what a Polyakov was capable of.
