Page 19 of Silent Dust
“Hey,” he whispered softly, his breath warm against her skin. “I love you.” The words felt like a promise, a reassurance that no matter what was happening in the world around them, they had each other.
She turned slightly, her eyes still heavy with sleep. “I love you too, Greg,” she murmured, her voice thick with drowsiness. He could feel her smile against his cheek, a small spark of joy that lit up the darkness of the room.
As they lay there, the silence enveloping them like a soft blanket, Hawk let his fingers trace the curve of her shoulder, a gentle reminder of the bond they shared. In that moment, the worries of the day faded into the background—the threats, the fears, the chaos—all of it seemed to dissolve in the warmth of their connection.
Slowly, their tired bodies began to drift off into an exhausted sleep, the kind that comes only after a day filled with anxiety and responsibility. Hawk felt Lindsey’s breathing steady, her body relaxing against his as she surrendered to the pull of sleep. He followed suit, letting the exhaustion wash over him like a tide, pulling him under into a deep, dreamless slumber.
10 - BEAR
The first lightof dawn barely kissed the horizon as Alpha and Charlie teams edged silently out of their hiding spots, moving with coordinated precision toward the warehouse that held Al-Harb’s deadly chemical stockpile. Every sound seemed amplified: the distant chirp of birds, the faint ripple of wind through broken windows. The air hung heavy, thick with the weight of anticipation.
Bear adjusted the straps of his gear, feeling the firm weight of his protective suit—an NBC-level chemical suit, sealed tight at the wrists and ankles, designed to keep any toxic fumes at bay. Over his torso, his lightweight tactical vest hugged close, loaded with spare magazines, a communications module, and a small decontamination kit clipped to the front.
He checked his equipment, goggles down, visor tinted but clear, then flicked the mask’s valve open briefly, inhaling a controlled, filtered breath. His gloves felt firm and responsive, sealing tight around his sleeves, ensuring no chemical vapors could seep in during their mission.
“Warden, you’re on point,” Bear’s voice came steady and commanding through the thin comms loop clipped near his ear..“Nova, you’re on overwatch. Link, establish comms with Charlie Team and keep us updated on their status.”
“Copy,” Warden’s voice replied softly. His own gear was identical—an NBC suit, helmet with integrated comms, and a rifle slung low, ready.
As the team moved, each member was locked into their protective kit—gear designed for quick movement but resilient enough to withstand toxic exposure. Moose’s face was covered by his airtight mask, small ventilators hissing softly as he checked his lock-pick kit, ready to breach if necessary. Blast’s explosives were secured in a custom-fit pouch, ready for the final steps. Nova’s scope shimmered faintly through her goggles, her sniper hide prepped.
Bear stood at the edge of the warehouse compound, his senses heightened as he prepared for the next phase of their operation. The tension in the air was palpable, a mix of anticipation and the weight of responsibility resting heavily on his shoulders. He was acutely aware of the stakes involved, not just for them but for Flora and the kids.
Behind him, the sound of Samir’s excited voice crackled over the comms, breaking through the seriousness of the moment. “They ready. Say go, and kids go.” Bear couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiasm in Samir’s tone. The twelve-year-old’s eagerness was infectious.
Link had found an extra set of comms earlier in the day and had taken the time to teach Samir how to use them. The street kid from Basra had been eager to learn, soaking up every bit of information like a sponge. Link’s willingness to include him had fostered a sense of acceptance and trust that was crucial in their line of work. Samir had gone from being an outsider to someone who felt valued and trusted by the SEALs, and Bear could see the pride in his eyes as he communicated with the team.
“Copy that, Samir,” Bear replied, his voice steady. “Hold tight until we give the signal. We need to make sure everything is in place before we move.”
As he spoke, Bear glanced at Link, who was crouched nearby, adjusting his gear. There was a softness in Link’s demeanor that hadn’t been there before, a growing attachment to the young boy who had quickly become a part of their operation. “You did good with him,” Bear said, nodding toward Samir. “He’s really coming into his own.”
Link shrugged, a modest smile on his face, but Bear could see the warmth in his eyes. “Just needed a little guidance. He’s got potential, and he’s eager to prove himself. That’s half the battle.” There was a protective edge to Link’s tone, a hint that he had taken on a mentor’s role, and Bear couldn’t help but admire the bond that was forming between them.
Samir’s laughter echoed through the comms as he chatted with the others, his youthful exuberance a reminder of the innocence that still existed in the world, even amidst the chaos. Bear felt a pang of protectiveness for the boy. He had seen too many young lives shattered by violence and despair, and he was determined to ensure that Samir wouldn’t become another casualty of their harsh reality.
“Just keep an eye on him,” Bear said, his voice low but firm. “He’s still a kid.”
Link nodded, his expression serious. “I got this. He’s got a good head on his shoulders, but I’ll make sure he doesn’t bite off more than he can chew.”
Bear felt a sense of relief. With Link looking out for Samir, the boy was in good hands.
“On my mark,” Bear said quietly, catching sight of Raven across the perimeter, Charlie Team leading from the opposite flank. His eyes flicked briefly toward her, assessingher readiness. Each member carried their loadout: weapons, explosive charges, and essential gear, all secured and ready.
His fingers brushed the strap of his radio. “Three… two… one… GO!”
Instantly, from behind their positions, the street kids erupted into action. They kicked over trash cans to produce disturbing clangs, set off firecrackers, and shouted at the rooftops—small, chaotic disruptions engineered to distract the guards. The noise blossomed into a cacophony that echoed through the quiet streets, a calculated diversion designed to pull patrols away from their posts.
“Guards are moving towards the front gate,” Link’s voice crackled through Bear’s earpiece. “Approximately two minutes before they realize it’s a setup.”
Bear kept his breathing even, eyes scanning his surroundings. “Move out,” he ordered under his breath. No hesitation. His team responded instinctively, slipping into a drainage tunnel embedded in the alleyway’s concrete. They crawled forward, cramped and damp, the smell of mold and decay filling their nostrils, every inch a challenge of stealth and discipline.
Minutes felt like hours as they navigated the tight, muddy corridor. When they finally emerged on the other side, the warehouse loomed ahead—dark, foreboding, protected by layers of security.
Bear raised a hand, signaling for quiet. The team paused, listening in the shadows behind the building.
“Raven,” Bear whispered over the comm, “you and Charlie take the east side. We’ll breach from the rear. Handle any runners, especially Al-Harb. We’ve got the chemicals, you get terrorists.”
“Understood,” Raven responded, her voice steady, eyes gleaming with resolve. “Let’s get it done.”
