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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"Why are there goddamn Russian broads?"
"Where are they staying?"
"Why are they here?"
The men of Easy Company kept a steady stream of whispers through their first week of training. Sure, they didn't whistle like Dog or Fox companies, both Zhanna had learned to avoid but they were still vocal at their confusion and most of all, displeasure.
They separated the pair. Again. Zhanna would have thought being welcomed into the program meant that she would be allowed to stay with her friend but it seemed friendships didn't mean anything to Sobel.
He had taken it upon himself, prior to morning muster on their first week of training, to find Zhanna and let her know exactly what she would be expected to do. She had to keep up with the men. She had to train just as hard as the other men. He had given Sveta a similar speech it seemed, but the entire regiment regarded Zhanna with apprehension.
"Jesus, she's tiny," A private had whispered as Zhanna passed to take her place in formation. They didn't seem to believe that she had made it through the sniper program. She had, though. A flush of pride warmed her chest, as she rested the rifle against her shoulder, the weight comfortable and familiar. She had worked hard to be a sniper and she would work harder to earn those little wings that would allow her flight home.
Zhanna was used to needing to establish herself. She had been forced to, holding herself at a higher standard in training and now, she would bring that competition and drive here.
"How are your chances, you think? The blonde or the brunette?" A Corporal behind Zhanna snickered as she straightened her spine. Walk tall, stand proud. She had earned this rifle, this place and now, because of her skills in the field, she had the chance to earn her place in Easy Company.
"The brunette looks like she could give Sobel a run for his money," Someone whispered. Zhanna's blood ran cold. No one talked about Sveta like that. These men didn't know who she was. "But the blonde is cute, for a Ruski."
"Pole," Zhanna silently corrected. Tata had always corrected people under his breath. Maybe that's why they had been forced to run, because he carried too much pride for his old homeland. She glanced over at Sveta, who shook her head. She didn't need to get into a fight with Americans after only 24 hours in Fort Benning.
She had finally remembered the name of the camp. Benning. She would remember it for more than its name.
Their platoon leaders let out a guttural jumble of words that escaped Zhanna but, she straightened, following the other men around her by standing at attention. Stiff as a board and emotionless.
She drew herself to her fullest height as Catain Sobel stalked among the ranks, inspecting their uniforms and every pore on their faces for any regulation-breaking grounds.
