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 had no luck in life. Or, her luck had run out sometime around the defense of Island. In fact, since Winters' transfer to Battalion XO, she'd had nothing but bad luck. First, she'd been shot in the abdomen. As if having her insides ripped by a bullet hadn't been bad enough, she'd been stuck in the corner of a hospital room that included Sergeant Guarnere. Moe Alley's presence made it a little better; at least she got along with him these days. But she wondered where Ron had been placed. Maybe with Compton?
She'd seen Heyliger's arrival two days before. He'd looked like a mess. The rumors claimed friendly fire. Bullets didn't discriminate between friend or foe, they had one purpose and that was to take life.
Like her mother's.
At just after dinner, the large room that contained about a dozen soldiers still buzzed with activity. Nurses, rushing here and there with dressings and bedpans and clipboards, reminded her of the workers in the estate she'd grown up in. Their gentle smiles at the patients seemed genuine, even when many of the men returned the kindness with vulgarity and flirts.
The medication kept her pain down. She'd woken up a few days after arriving in France, taken off the morphine and sleeping pills that had kept her quiet and still. The surgeon said she'd recover, but it would take time.
Sveta didn't have time to sit in a hospital surrounded by men she didn't know, or didn't like.
Alley had the bed next to her. He sat up, the wounds on his chest healing well, and dealt a hand of cards to Guarnere on the cot to his other side. Guarnere could barely walk; the broken leg and wound to his ass made him all sorts of grumbly. Not that she expected anything different.
"You fucking kidding me, Alley? These?" Guarnere scoffed at the cards in his hand. "I mean Jesus Christ, I know you like to win, but be more subtle 'bout your cheating."
Alley just laughed. "Keep thinking that, Gonorrhea. It'll make you feel better when you lose."
About half of the usual dozen full beds were empty. The pleasant weather meant those capable of and allowed to walk had left the confines of the recovery ward. She'd been cleared for walking the day before as long as she took it slow and stopped at any sign of increased damage to the wound. But she didn't want to go alone.
Then again, as Guarnere and Alley droned on in their card game, she didn't want to listen to them either. The spinning ceiling fans could only keep her occupied for so long. She yawned.
"Hey, Captain, you want in on a game?"
The question came from Alley. Still on her back, she rolled onto her healthy side and looked at them. Guarnere frowned from beyond Alley. She felt much the same. But the prospect of laying there, trying to follow a single blade of a ceiling fan as it went round and round in circles, seemed somehow even less appealing.
"What game?" she asked.
Alley shrugged. "What do you know?"
Sveta pushed herself up. A bit of pain shot through her left side, but she stifled it with a bite to her cheek. Stuff down the pain. "Five-card draw and Blackjack."
