Page 34 of Silent Dust
“Wally,” Hank pressed, his voice calm but firm, “you need to understand the severity of what you’re saying. If Charlotte orchestrated this, she’s a dangerous individual. But you still went along with it. You put Flora in harm’s way.”
“I know! I know!” Wally cried, his voice rising in pitch. “But I couldn’t do it! I just wanted Bear to look at me like he looks at Flora! I didn’t think it would go this far!”
Hawk felt a surge of frustration at how easily Wally had been led astray. What kind of hold did Charlotte have over him? What kind of person could twist another’s affection into a weapon?
Hank leaned in closer, urgency pressing down on him. “Wally, listen to me. If you help us find Charlotte and provide everything you know about her, I might be able to help you. Instead of facing a court martial for what you’ve done, I could potentially get you an Article 15 hearing. But you need to cooperate fully. This is your chance to make things right.”
Wally’s eyes widened, a flicker of hope igniting within him. “You really think so?”
“Yes,” Hawk replied, his tone steady, “but only if you’re honest and forthcoming with us. We need to find Charlotte.”
Wally bit his lip, his brow furrowing as he recalled the chaotic night at the hospital. “Well, she likes disguises,” he began, his voice trembling slightly. “Sometimes, I don’t even know it’s her. Like when we were at the hospital the other night. We were both dressed like doctors, you know, scrubs and everything. I thought we looked pretty convincing.”
Hawk leaned in, intrigued. “Go on.”
Wally continued, his eyes darting around the room as if he were reliving the moment. “She went into the bathroom while I went to Flora’s room. I was supposed to inject something into Flora’s IV. I was nervous, but I thought I could do it. Then, when that lady yelled at me, I ran. I didn’t know where Charlotte went, but then I saw her again—this time, she was dressed as a security guard. I almost didn’t recognize her!”
Hawk jumped up and knocked on the door for the MP’s, “That’s why we haven’t found her on facial recognition. We need to get this information back to Swede.”
18 - BEAR
Bear settledinto one of the jump seats along the side of the C-130 Hercules, already feeling the familiar ache creeping into his muscles. The plane was a far cry from any comfort—utilitarian to the core, built for function over luxury. The cargo hold was cavernous, with rows of hard, narrow jump seats lining the walls and a wide open space in the center cluttered with canvas bags and weapon racks. The air was cool but stale, carrying the faint scent of sweat and machine oil. The constant rumble and vibration of the engines thrummed through the floor and seats, a relentless reminder of the long flight ahead.
Fourteen hours stretched before them, and every minute promised to test their patience and endurance. The hard seats offered little relief, their thin padding doing nothing to ease the soreness in Bear’s back and legs. The cramped quarters made shifting positions difficult, and the cold metal beneath his boots seeped through his tactical gear. Despite the discomfort, the atmosphere inside was a strange mix of relief and excitement—after the mission’s intensity, the team was finally able to exhale.
Blast broke the silence, pulling out a deck of cards with a grin. “Who’s up for a game of poker?” he asked, shuffling deftly. Samir, already half-asleep in a jump seat, barely stirred. Mooseand Nova exchanged a quick glance and nodded, eager for the distraction. Bear allowed himself a small smile, grateful for the brief respite the game would bring from the long hours ahead.
Amidst friendly wagers and playful teasing, stories flowed freely, filling the cargo hold with laughter and warmth.
Warden huffs out a laugh, "Remember that time little Amelia threw a fit about having a tea party with her stuffed animals, and Moose, the big tough guy, actually got down on the floor and played along? Wore that ridiculous pink jeweled crown she made him wear like it was a Medal of Honor—and I swear, he looked way more comfortable in that crown than half of us in combat. Classic Moose—biggest softie in the room, when it counts."
Nova’s laugh was light and sincere, eyes sparkling. “And don’t forget Kenzi’s paper airplane missions. I swear, the way she maps out those routes and sets up her little battles—she’s already got the makings of a killer strategist. No doubt about it, that kid’s got brains to match her fire.”
Link grinned, joining in. “Don’t forget Rhys’s tech support. No matter how tricky the problem, Rhys got it covered. His mind for code is seriously next level for someone his age.”
Blast shook his head with amused admiration. “And his ability to keep those two girls under control! Honestly, that boy is way too mature for his years, gotta say.”
The stories wove together, a tapestry of shared history and affection that eased the long flight ahead.
Dog, ever practical, chimed in, his voice laced with quiet empathy. “Let’s not forget the times Flora would come out to the garage to bring us fresh-baked cookies and hot coffee,” he said softly. “She was always so worried about us, making sure that we were safe and taken care of.”
Warden chimed in, “Hey Bear, remember the party you tried to plan when she earned her doctorate… and she didn’t show up?”
Bear laughed at the memory, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over him. “She ended up going to work, and we partied without her. It was a hell of a party, too!”
Flora’s motherly concern and the way she had seamlessly welcomed each of them into her family home—the quiet moments of shared warmth and acceptance—were vivid reminders of the life they were fighting to protect.
Meanwhile, in a quieter corner, Samir leaned closer to Link, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you,” he said, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. “For help.”
Link nodded, his gaze softening. “You’ve been through a lot, kid,” he said quietly. “Don’t worry. You’re going to my home now. Safe.”
Samir hesitated, then continued, his voice even lower. “My mother… she in Basra. Hiding. I… I don’t know if she safe. I worry.”
Link’s eyes darkened, a sudden flash of concern crossing his face. He clenched his jaw slightly, muscles tense with determination. Surprised by Samir’s mention of a mother, something he had never brought up before, Link’s voice grew firm. “We’ll figure something out. We’ll find her,” he said steadily. “You’re safe now, and we’re going to do everything we can to get her back.” His gaze softened, offering a reassuring presence amid the tension. “But for now, rest. You’re safe, I promised.”
The transport plane rumbled to a halt on the tarmac at Norfolk, its engines winding down to a weary sigh that mirrored the team’s own exhaustion. The ramp lowered with a groan of metal protesting the weight of the long journey, the fourteen hours a stark reminder of the distance that had separated Bearfrom Flora, from his family. Alpha Team emerged, moving slowly, their bodies stiff and achy, their faces etched with fatigue. They were a sight—dusty, sweat-soaked, and bearing the unmistakable marks of a grueling mission.
Commander Michaels stood at the edge of the tarmac, his sharp gaze taking in the weary figures shuffling toward him, yet a flicker of amusement—and something akin to grudging respect—danced in his eyes. “Well,” Michaels said, his voice carrying just enough humor to cut through their exhaustion. “I’d say you all look like hell, but that might be insulting to hell itself.”
