Page 14 of Silent Dust
When Flora woke again, the exhaustion was bone-deep. She ached in every muscle, her head throbbed, her body screamed for relief. She needed to talk. She couldn’t carry it alone.
“Lindsey,” she croaked, her voice raw. “I… need to tell you… everything. You’ve seen… I’ve changed…”
Taking a shaky breath, she closed her eyes, bracing herself for the memories that awaited her.
Lindsey nodded, her eyes softening with understanding. “I know, Flora. It’s okay. Just tell me what happened.”
Flora closed her eyes. “It started at the conference… Walter Reed. Networking, that’s all it was supposed to be. Then…there was…outside the center. I was mugged.”
Lindsey’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, Flora. I had no idea.”
Flora swallowed hard, a wave of shame washing over her as her eyelids fluttered with exhaustion. Her voice came out hoarse and uneven, edged with confusion. “I was… stupid. I just ran. Didn’t… report it.” She paused, blinking as if trying to focus. “I was terrified. Thought I could… handle it. But things… got worse.” Her head felt heavy, thoughts moving sluggishly.
Lindsey’s steady voice cut through the haze. “What do you mean?”
Flora took a shaky breath, struggling to gather the fractured pieces. “The texts…” Her voice trembled. “I started… getting messages. Texts, pictures… of Bear… threatening to kill him. Or… have him die in action if I… if I told anyone, or went to the police. They… they knew who I was, where I… lived.” Her words slowed, confusion flickering in her gaze. “I felt trapped. Like no way out.”
Lindsey’s face tightened. “That’s horrific, Flora. The police? Commander Michaels?”
Flora’s nod was slow, her expression blank for a moment before the weight of fear pulled her down. “No,” she whispered,the word heavy like a stone. “I was scared. Thought I could protect him by being quiet. That... if I kept my head down…”
“You can’t keep this to yourself, Flora.” Lindsey’s concern deepened. “He’s a SEAL. He understands risk. And he deserves to know what you’re facing.”
Flora’s voice cracked, the exhaustion and guilt mingling into a delicate edge. “If they’re targeting me… what about him? He’s already… in the Middle East. A target the second he… puts on his uniform.” She swallowed again, voice barely more than a breath. “How... how can I live with myself?”
“Stephan saw the papers, Flora. He thinks you want out. He needs you. He needs you to tell him the truth.”
Tears blurred Flora’s vision, exhaustion making each blink a small struggle. “I… I can’t do that to him.”
“Flora,” Lindsey repeated softly, steadying her. “Rhys found the divorce papers on your desk.” She paused, watching as recognition flickered, mingling with guilt and confusion. “He’s been really affected these last two days while you’ve been in the hospital. I can see it—in how he’s acting. He’s worried. He needs to know everything will be okay.”
The mention of Rhys jolted a fresh wave of guilt through Flora’s tired frame. “Didn’t want him to see… didn’t want him… to worry.”
“I know,” Lindsey said gently, voice softening. “But he’s just a kid, Flora. And he’s picking up on this tension. With Stephan on a mission, Greg and I have to figure out who’s threatening you. We can’t let this keep happening.”
Between naps and over the course of eight hours, Lindsey stayed by Flora’s side, gently coaxing the details of the attack and the threats from her. With each question, Flora felt the weight of her experiences spill out, and despite the heaviness in her chest, she knew it was necessary. When she finally gave Lindsey permission to involve Greg and reach out toCommander Michaels to start investigating, relief washed over her. It felt like a small step toward regaining control over her life.
Lindsey moved closer and, almost awkwardly, wrapped her arms around Flora’s frail frame in a gentle hug. The warmth of her embrace was steady, grounding against the whirl of exhaustion and fear swirling inside Flora. For a moment, the tightness in her chest eased.
“Focus on getting well, Flora,” Lindsey murmured softly, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes with a steady, reassuring gaze. “We’ll figure this out together. I promise.”
8 - BEAR
A chorusof bird calls erupted outside as Nova, perched silently in the trees, pinpointed each member of Charlie Team. Her sharp eyes tracked their movements, and with a quiet whisper into the comms, she relayed their arrival to Bear. Seconds later, Moose stepped out of the trees to greet their friends.
Inside, the team’s arrival was a quiet storm. Moose opened the door, giving way for Elena "Raven" Torres to slip through with the swagger of someone used to calling the shots. She stood tall against the fading light, sharp eyes focused beneath her Dodgers cap—an irreverent touch Raven had deliberately thrown in just to get under Bear’s skin. Behind her, Charlie Team moved in like a whirlwind, all clad in desert camo uniforms, dust and grit settled into their sleeves and boots, every one ready to stir the pot.
“Welcome, Charlie Team,” Bear said, his gravelly voice steady as he extended a firm, no-nonsense hand. “We’ve got a lot to cover. And some of this will get messy.” As he shook hands with Raven, he reached up with a smirk and knocked her Dodgers cap off. “Not in here… you wore that just to get under my skin, didn’t you?”
Amidst a flurry of man hugs and back-slaps, the two teams exchanged greetings, their camaraderie spilling over in a burst of noise and good-natured banter. Bear and Raven, as team leaders, watched patiently, waiting for the initial chaos to die down before taking charge. Once some semblance of order returned—and the gear was sorted amidst jokes and chuckles—they prepared to lay out the plan, the humor a welcome relief in the tense moment before the operation.
Blast and Dog slipped back out the door after the quick meet and greet, each disappearing into the trees.
Nine SEALs occupied the scant space, spread out in a loosely formed circle around the interior. Some sat cross-legged on crates, loosening stiff limbs after long hours of travel and tension, while others leaned against the walls, arms crossed or hands resting on their knees.
Moose, positioned near the window, kept a watchful eye on the entrance, scanning their surroundings while tapping a cautious rhythm on his thigh. Mato “Panther” Monahan crouched behind a crate, subtly adjusting his gear. Mia “Cobra” Chen and Jake “Havoc” Harris sat on crates, joking softly, their conversation punctuated by glances around the room.
In the corner, Link hunched over the comm equipment he had set up on an old wooden box. Samir, who had latched onto Link as his lifeline, sat close, watching the others in the room nervously.
