A/N: I think even Nixon underestimated the hurricane heading his way.


Chapter Thirty-Eight


Her entire body ached as Alice clawed her way back to consciousness. It took a moment for her to understand why. Shifting in her bunk away from the side of the ship to face the rows of paratroopers, she hissed when moving her wrist.

Alice stopped breathing. Memories crashed back in, confusing amalgamations of her last day in Paris and her first day on the Samaria. She remembered blood, she remembered cold hands on her skin, and she remembered her terror. Her head spun. Releasing the tension in her chest, she forced a breath.

To her surprise, Gene didn't occupy the bunk to her right. It had taken longer than it should've to recognize Talbert sitting with his back against a pole, just to the right of her head. He was working on a crossword puzzle in a newspaper he must've picked up in New York City. Various soldiers of Easy occupied nearly all the other bunks. George's voice floated from the one beneath her, along with Skip, Alex, and Don's laughter.

"What are you doing here, Tab?" Alice asked. Her voice sounded rough, and slightly painful, as she spoke. Her hand flew to her neck as she sat up. Instantly, Alice regretted it. The sudden pressure to her windpipe area caused pain to shoot through her skin.

Floyd Talbert looked over. "Alice! You're up." He put down the crossword.

She eyed him carefully. His frown, and the way his gaze flickered over her made her uneasy. Rumors spread like wildfire in the 506th. The last thing she needed was for the entire battalion to know she'd stood by and let men grope her.

"What, not calling me Lieutenant, anymore? It's Alice now?" At his visible flinch, she regretted her harsh tone. But an apology stuck in her throat. "It's clear you know something. Who told you, Guarnere? George?"

Talbert shook his head. "Lieutenant Winters. He told some of the NCOs what happened and ordered us to stop the rumors and uh, keep you company."

"Nice way of saying you're my bodyguard." Alice shook her head and looked around. No one else had realized she'd woken up, or else they'd all decided to act like nothing happened. She had a feeling that would be too good to be true, though. "How bad is the bruise on my throat?"

He hadn't meant to hesitate. But as he looked at the deep red splotches on and to the left of her windpipe, he didn't know what exactly to say. Alice's sigh told him she guessed his thoughts.

"Who knows?"

Shifting in his cot, Talbert shrugged. "Besides the guys who found you? Me, Lip, Martin, and Randleman."

"No one else?"

He shook his head. "Winters said that anyone who wouldn't accept the explanation of them not needing to know should be sent his way. So far that's kept everyone quiet."

Alice fumbled around her pocket. The jackasses from H company must've stolen her cigarettes, because where the pack had been, now she found only her picture of herself and her brothers. She cursed under her breath in German. "You got any cigarettes?"

"Not on me." Talbert leaned over the other side of the bunk. "George, gimme a smoke."

She heard the man scoff, but soon Talbert straightened back up and handed over a white cigarette. Not a moment later, George himself scrambled up into Talbert's cot, much to the man's annoyance. It barely had enough room for both of them sitting cross legged.

"Figured it'd be for you." George flashed her a smile. It dropped ever so slightly as he looked her over. "Shit, you've looked better."

"Subtle."

He smirked, popping a cigarette into his own mouth. After passing her a light, he lit his own. "Tab drew the short straw and had to sit here while you were asleep."

"Short straw?"

George chuckled as Talbert rolled his eyes. With a nod, he pointed at Tab and then her. "You don't talk much when you're asleep."

She raised her eyebrows. With a small shake of her head, she glanced around. The area felt quieter than usual, but all the cots looked full. Glancing back at George, her breath caught again. Unbidden memories of the day before, his face being the first thing she could picture beyond snapshots of her days in Paris, reminded her of the attack.

George stopped smiling. "You good?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course." But Alice looked away from both of them, glancing down the wall of the ship, pretending to be extremely interested in something else. Her heart pounded. Still averting her gaze, Alice hesitated before speaking again. "Uh. Thanks, George."

"Yeah, what for?" He glanced across at Talbert in confusion.

"Yesterday."

"Oh." After a long pause, he shrugged. "Joe and Bill smashed the guys up pretty good too."

Alice snapped back to look at him. Suddenly the memories of what had led to her being in the wrong part of the ship alone flooded back in. Mocky. Jewboy. Alice could feel the anger pulsing through her yet again. It must've been obvious, too, because George took the cigarette out of his mouth, and Talbert straightened in his seat.

"I know you've got no reason to listen to me, but Guarnere didn't mean to piss you off." George hesitated to see if she'd blow up at him. When she stayed quiet, he took it as a good sign. "He's an idiot, and a jackass, but he cares."

"You're right on two counts. He's an idiot, and he's a jackass. I've told him enough about life back in France for him to know not to speak that way." Alice bit her cheek. "He deserved the broken nose."

"You ain't wrong."

"Now that he knows about your brother, maybe he'll keep his mouth shut," Talbert muttered. He realized what he'd said immediately, and locked eyes with George. The other man gave a tiny shake of his head and pulled his cigarette out of his mouth.

Alice didn't respond immediately. It took a moment for her to register what Talbert had said. But as the words sank in, she glanced at him. "What?" The fact that he didn't respond immediately made her turn to face them instead of straight ahead. "Do you... you mean Marc?" Alice didn't know whether to be angry or hurt. "How?"

"It was just to give the NCOs some context," George ventured. "For what happened yesterday."

"Who?"

"Just the guys who they told-"

Alice cut him off. "No, who told you? Who the hell..." She didn't even wait for an answer. They'd never say, she knew it by their already obvious hesitance. Her mind began working overtime. Who had known? She'd mentioned her brother's death offhand to most of Easy but she'd never gone into the details of that night.

Maybe Colonel Sink had known? If he'd known, maybe Strayer? But neither Tab nor George had any reason to defend either of them. So it had to be someone else.

As she went to ask again, Alice froze. She closed her mouth. Her gaze darted between them. Alice felt chills. "No. He wouldn't."

Lewis Nixon was the only person they all knew with access to the information who they all knew well enough to care about. Based on the hesitant expression on both the men's faces, they knew she knew. Alice felt her hands trembling as she pulled on her jacket from where it had bunched up. "Come with me, or get out of my way." She didn't even wait for them as she clambered onto the empty bunk in front of her and across the one to its right.

Several people tried to talk to her as she scrambled down the bunks to the floor. She didn't respond. Anger, shock had replaced her hurt. The company that bunked after them had left for lunch, so she easily made her way to the deck access.

"Alice!"

Evidently at least George had decided to follow her. Taking the steps two at a time, Alice emerged into the sunlight. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the brightness. A hand touched her arm. With a gasp, Alice jerked away.

George looked like he'd been burned. "Sorry, I didn't..."

"Where are they quartered?" He hesitated again, and she stepped a half step closer. "That's an order."

"Room 219."

Alice nodded. She spun on her heels. Passing several groups of paratroopers, she found the nearest door into the levels where the officers had their quarters. It didn't take long to locate a stairwell. With George behind her all the way, she sped through the well decorated halls on the Samaria until she stopped before a door labeled 219. With half a mind to open the door unannounced, she stood silent.

The door opened and Lieutenant Heyliger stood in the doorway. He smiled, then glanced down at the bruise on her throat, and moved past her without saying much. He just let his pitying half smile do the talking instead. She stopped the door from closing. Harry and Nixon sat inside, a table pulled between the beds, playing poker. Dick sat at a desk in a corner, facing away from the door. They didn't notice her.

Turning to face George, she glared at him. He hesitated, but got the message, and headed down the hall. She turned back to where the officers sat enjoying themselves. Words escaped her. How they, especially Nixon, dared to sit there after betraying her trust made her sick.

As she stood there contemplating what to say, what to do, Harry glanced over. He put down the glass of whiskey he'd been drinking. Immediately, Nixon followed his gaze. She heard him curse under his breath.

"Nice to see you up," Harry ventured.

Dick turned around to look at her. She still stood in the doorway, debating how to start, how to convey her thoughts to these three men. Nixon, of course, was the only one who could've gotten the information about her previous assault. Only he could've known how she'd been the cause of Marc's death. But the other two hadn't stopped him from making it public.

Finally, she stepped inside and shut the door. "How?" She glared at Nixon while she spoke.

"How what?" he tried.

Alice half laughed. "Stupidity isn't a good look on you." After a brief pause she shook her head again. "Did... You read my file? And don't act stupid again. That's the only way you could've known... When?"

Nixon took a sip of his whiskey. "A few months ago."

"You fucking bastard."

Dick sighed. He got up from the desk and walked around to sit on the bed near Harry. He shook his head. "Alice-"

"Where the hell do you get off going through that information?" she snapped again, completely ignoring Dick.

"He never should've gone through that," Dick agreed. He watched her. When she finally locked eyes with him, Dick shook his head. "He was wrong."

"Wrong? He is so far past wrong right now, he's lucky I don't punch him the same way I punched Guarnere."

Dick raised an eyebrow but didn't comment on her admission to punching Guarnere. He just sighed. "Alice take a breath."

"I looked into your file after Lipton had to march you to the showers to help you get sober." Nixon pointed at her. "Your drinking was getting out of control. Doc was concerned, so I figured I'd do some digging."

"You want to lecture me on drinking?" Alice stepped closer into the room. "You? The one who stashes alcohol in your friend's footlocker so the brass can't take it?" She reached forward and grabbed the flask from the table in front of him. Unscrewing it, she took a whiff. "Oh, my mistake, this is water not whiskey."

"At least I know how to hold my alcohol," Nixon snapped, standing up. "You don't see me throwing up from too much wine."

Dick glanced at Harry first before standing up as well. "Ok. Both of you, that's enough. Nixon, reading her file was wrong. But Alice, he only told us about the night in Paris to stop the enlisted from spreading rumors about why you froze instead of fighting back. Marc's death-"

"You don't get to say his name," she snapped.

Harry sighed. "Alice, only five NCOs and the men who helped you know what happened. And they're not going to tell anyone."

Alice glanced between them. Her body tensed. They were all standing up now, Nixon with his flask in one hand after picking it up off the ground from where she'd tossed it. Dick stood next to Harry beside the poker table, slightly closer to her. They'd surrounded her. A pit formed in her stomach. She backed up.

Part of her, a small part, knew Dick was right. The men needed context. But the sheer betrayal she felt from Nixon's snooping buried that. Instead she felt herself growing cold, almost numb.

"I trusted you, I trusted this company. Twice in as many days I've been shown how that trust gets rewarded. And you know what? I was right. I never should've let myself think of any of you as more than the way we free Europe." Alice felt tears trying to form. She forced herself to stop, the lump in her throat growing the more she stifled the crying. But the tears never fell. With a last shake of her head, she left the room, leaving it silent behind her as the door slammed.

It barely surprised her to find George standing next to the door, smoking. He looked at her warily. Neither of them spoke. So far, George was the only one she didn't want to punch. With a deep breath, she crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head.

"C'mon." He gestured down the hall with his head. "It's nicer outside anyways."

With her throat still stinging from repressed tears, she just nodded. In silence, Alice following George Luz, they walked down the hall and past a couple officers. After taking the stairs, they walked out on deck. Brilliant blue skies with barely a cloud to be seen stretched as far as the equally blue ocean. The gentle waves rose and fell. Alice went to the front of the ship. She sat on the boxes Gene had used to treat the seasick men of Easy. Closing her eyes, she tried to tune into the gentle movement of the troopship. George didn't leave her side.