Page 24 of Silent Dust
She prided herself on control — yet sometimes, thoughts of Wally’s quiet suffering stirred something unexpected: pity? No. Weakness. She shoved it down firmly, reminding herself that his fragility was her weapon.
Charlotte stormed out, pulling her phone from her pocket with fingers brushing the screen.
“Meet me at the coffee shop near the beach—the one with the flickering neon sign. You know the place.”
Her mind flashed back: Wally’s wide eyes, hesitant smile, the way he tried to hide trembling hands. Still vulnerable. Perfect.
At the coffee shop, Wally sat hunched, plucking nervously at the edge of a frayed napkin. He tapped a slow, steady rhythm. a nervous tick that betrayed his restless mind. Usually, he noticed the smallest details others missed: supply records that didn’t add up, subtle shifts among the teams. But now, his attention was torn—caught between fear, longing, and the weight of Charlotte’s expectations.
Charlotte stepped inside and caught the flicker of hope tangled with fear in his eyes.
He wanted to please her—but part of him wanted to flee.
“Everything’s packed,” she said softly, voice low and sure. “Scrubs, mask, syringe. All ready. Slip in, inject Flora’s IV, leave no trace. Simple.”
Wally’s face drained. But instead of swallowing fear immediately, he lifted his gaze, and for a flicker of seconds, his voice sounded firmer than she expected.
“I don’t want to be just your pawn, Charlotte. I need my reasons to mean something. But this plan—it's dangerous. I’m not sure I can do it.”
Charlotte’s eyes sharpened, the predator unmasked. “You forget how serious this is, Wally. Sitting here talking about backing out won’t save you. But I have those pictures you took of Bear. Unauthorized photos on secure military property. A federal offense.”
Her voice dropped, deadly calm. “If that leaks, you won’t just lose your job. You’ll face legal consequences. Jail time. Maybe worse, with the kind of scrutiny you’re under. You are my pawn, Wally. And you will do exactly what I say. Or I’ll expose everything—your obsession, your recklessness.”
The weight of her words crushed his brief defiance. His breath hitched; the fire in his eyes dimmed to fear.
“I… I’ll do it,” he whispered, broken.
Charlotte’s thin smile was merciless. “Good. No more excuses. Tonight, you finish this—or you collapse, exposed and alone.”
She stood, adjusting her bag. Hesitating, she glanced back once. In his eyes flickered panic—the desperate search for escape. Maybe he already considered calling the police. Betraying her before the plan even started.
Her smile tightened. No chance.
Turning away, she thought she heard him whisper under his breath, barely clear: “She should tell someone…”
Had he said it aloud? Or was it the echo of her own doubt? She crushed the thought and walked out.
Outside, the salty breeze bit at her cheeks. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Her fingers trembled as she pulled her phone and dialed again.
“Wally. Listen.”
“Charlotte? I…”
“No excuses.” Ice coated her words, but beneath, raw exhaustion glimmered—the toll this was taking. “If you back out, I’ll expose your crush on Bear. Everyone will know.”
Silence. Then a shaky breath. “You wouldn’t…”
Charlotte’s smile was cold steel, though inside, something tightened—a mix of triumph and something darker.
“Oh, but I would. You told me about that moment in the supply room—the touch you can’t forget. I keep it close. So should you.”
His voice cracked. “Please, Charlotte…”
“Don’t beg. Focus.” A bitterness rose in her throat. “Flora’s loose lips are the weak link. Tonight, you end this—or I end you.”
The fight drained out of him. “I’ll do it.”
“Good.” Her voice was final, unforgiving. “Now go. Don’t look back.”
