Page 30 of Silent Dust
Ahead of them, silhouettes of ships loomed—escort vessels, likely alerted to the blast. Bear monitored the horizon for pursuit, heart pounding in time with the engine’s roar.
Suddenly, a single cigarette boat surged from the wreckage, engines roaring as it tore through the water toward them. Bear’sstomach clenched. “We’ve got company,” he barked. “Engage evasive maneuvers!”
Link immediately relayed GPS data and called in air support. Nova kept her rifle at the ready, eyes flicking between water and sky. Moose spun the boat, skimming low over the restless waves, desperately trying to maximize distance from the pursuing vessel.
Overhead, two F/A-18 Hornets streaked into the night sky, engines pounding, preparing for a high-speed attack run. One pilot’s voice crackled over the radio: “SEAL RIB, this is VFA-143. You are HOT. Maintain evasive maneuvers—friendly air support is en route. Engaging targets now.”
The jets unleashed a coordinated barrage of gunfire—strikes ripping through foam and spray behind the boat. Explosions erupted, shredding the pursuit vessel’s hull and sinking it in a maelstrom of debris.
Nova was the first to shout: “Splash one!”
But barely had she spoken when Bear’s sharp eyes caught movement — a ripple, then two boats, moving faster than the previous one, shot from behind the nearby sister vessel of the cargo ship. The enemy’s second wave had launched at the right moment, trying to take advantage of the chaos.
The boats gained ground rapidly, engines screaming as they surged forward to cut them off. Bear cursed under his breath. “Damn it, they’re closing faster!”
Nova, instincts sharp, spun around while keeping her rifle trained on the water. She fired a quick shot, her sniper rifle just a subtle crack in the night. “Tango target—moving fast. Firing on the move!” she called out.
Moose’s eyes flashed. “Hostiles closing! Two vessels—bearing fast and gaining ground!”
Link’s fingers flew over the radio. “This is RIB team, requesting immediate air support. Multiple hostilesapproaching—bearing 045—closing fast. I say again, immediate air support needed! Danger close!”
From directly above, the pilots responded—one blast of the radio: “Roger, VFA-143. Targets in sight. Engaging now.” Almost immediately, a thunderous burst of gunfire streaked overhead, tearing through the darkness with streaks of bright tracers. The sound echoed across the water as shells found their marks, detonating on the enemy vessels. Flames flared along their hulls, flickering wildly before dying out. Thick plumes of black smoke billowed upward, drifting lazily as both boats lost power and began to list—slowly tipping forward and sinking rapidly into the dark depths.
The immediate threat was now suppressed, the enemy vessels having been neutralized. Moose kept the throttle at maximum, the engine’s roar echoing across the water as they surged toward the carrier’s safety zone. The boat sliced through the choppy waves, spray flying in their wake, every second bringing them closer to safety. The faint glow of the carrier’s silhouette emerged ahead, its blinking lights cutting through the gloom—a stark contrast to the chaos of moments before, now shifting into readiness.
Bear, adrenaline still firing through his veins, kept a tight grip on the console, eyes flicking between the water and the distant shape of the ship. “Keep your eyes peeled,” he barked. “They might regroup or send other assets—got to make it before more show up.”
Overhead, the roar of Hornets streaking past faded into the night sky, their afterburners flickering and then disappearing into the darkness. Behind the jets, scattered smoke trails and broken vessels marked where the enemy had been overwhelmed. The churned-up water calmed briefly, a tense silence settling over them for a heartbeat.
“Almost there,” Moose said quietly, his voice calmer now that the action had diminished.
Finally the RIB came into the safety zone and a voice boomed from the carrier’s bridge, “Identify yourselves!”
“RIB Alpha, this is SEAL Team Alpha—mission accomplished. Returning with explosives, chemical verification, and compromised targets,” Bear answered.
“Roger that, team. Stand by. We’re securing the lines,” came the reply.
They approached quickly, deckhands throwing lines and pulling them tight. Within moments, personnel moved with practiced efficiency, lines secured, personnel ready to transfer. A crew member approached with a harness line, swiftly looping it over the side.
“RIB, secure and ready for extraction,” someone announced.
“Thanks,” Bear called out, exhaling as the team prepared to board. The adrenaline was still coursing, but now with a sense of relief—mission successful.
As they climbed aboard, Bear found a moment to take in the chaos behind him—the destroyed cargo ship, the flames still smoldering in the distance, the jet trails fading into the night. For a brief second, he felt a bittersweet mix of exhaustion and pride.
But his mind was already drifting, plagued by worries beyond the operation. Standing on the deck, he watched the swift, efficient movements of the crew and command team. A moment of silence washed over him as he closed his eyes, praying silently—for Flora’s safety, for the team, for the unknown threats still lurking.
His thoughts slipped away to love and loss, duty and the costs of war. Was it finally time to consider a different path? To find peace away from this relentless life? The temptation flickeredbriefly in his mind, but just as quickly, he pushed it aside. Duty called.
“Bear,” Moose’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Time to head in for debrief. You good?”
Bear nodded slowly, shaking off the lingering doubts. “Yeah. Let’s go. I want to know what’s happening back home.”
With that, they turned toward the hatch, ready to face whatever came next—knowing their sacrifice had made a difference, even as the shadows of doubt and hope intertwined.
15 - CHARLOTTE
Charlotte always believedshe was the star of her own show. From childhood, she had excelled at everything—academics, sports, social games—each victory building her conviction that perfection was her birthright. The daughter of a renowned surgeon, she carried the weight of expectations without question, convinced she was destined for greatness. In her mind, she was meant to command admiration, to be revered. Outwardly effortless confidence masked an inner tempest, where every flaw became a failure she refused to accept.
