Page 75 of Falling for the Firefighter
Before I can respond, Parker clears her throat. "Cap, we need to get back out there. Fire's not going to contain itself."
"Five-minute equipment check. Water, medical supplies, communications." Mac straightens, command mode reasserting itself. "Then we redeploy."
As he coordinates with his team, he watches me with that dangerous intensity. Our reunion will be explosive when this crisis ends.
Sheriff Donovan approaches, radio in hand. "Fire's jumped another ridge line. Moving faster than predicted. We need to deploy now if we're going to establish positions before it hits."
"All teams move out. Follow your assigned leaders to staging areas." Mac’s voice carries without shouting, his command presence filling the room. "Radio check-ins every fifteen minutes. If conditions change, fall back to designated safety zones. No heroics."
The room empties as teams move toward vehicles and equipment caches. Within minutes, only the core command staff remains—Mac, Parker, Sheriff Donovan, Noah Morgan, and me.
"I'll coordinate from here." Sheriff Donovan indicates the communications setup. "Direct link to state emergency services and evacuation centers."
"I'm with Alpha Team at the northern gap." Mac turns to me. "You're staying at command. We need your terrain knowledge centralized where all teams can access it."
The logical assignment still strikes like a blow. "I should be in the field."
"You're more valuable here." His tone leaves no room for argument. "Every team needs your expertise. That only works if you're at the communication hub."
I want to protest and demand a place on the front line, but the strategic logic is unassailable. My knowledge serves more people from the command center than it would at any single location.
"Fine." I concede with poor grace. "But I'm monitoring all positions. Any terrain questions, any route adjustments, I need immediate notification."
Mac nods, already moving toward the door. "Parker, you've got Beta Team at the central position. Work with Chief Morgan's crew on containment lines."
"Copy that, Cap." Parker grabs her gear.
"Communications test at position, then every fifteen minutes thereafter." Mac pauses at the door, eyes finding mine one last time. Something passes between us—unspoken but undeniable. Then he's gone, striding into smoke-tinged daylight with the confidence of a man who's faced fire before and expects to do so again.
Scout follows Mac to the door, her brown eyes tracking his movement with the focused attention she reserves for important departures. She knows the difference between him leaving for routine business and leaving for danger—her posture tense, ears forward, tail still.
When the door closes behind him, she returns to my side, settling beneath the command table with a soft whine. Her eyes remain fixed on the entrance, as if willing him to return safely through sheer canine determination.
The next hours pass in controlled chaos. I remain at the command table, surrounded by maps and communication equipment, fielding questions from team leaders and tracking the fire's advance through periodic reports. The blaze moves likea living thing, accelerating through canyons, climbing slopes, creating its own weather systems as it consumes everything in its path.
Eleanor Morgan joins me, her calm presence a counterpoint to the tension thrumming through the command center. She organizes supply chains for those on the ground, ensuring water, food, and equipment flow steadily to the defensive positions.
"You care deeply for him." She says it without preamble as we study updated fire projections.
I don't pretend to misunderstand. "Is this really the time for that conversation?"
Her smile holds the wisdom of decades. "Crisis has a way of clarifying what matters, child."
Before I can respond, Mac's voice cuts through the radio chatter: "Command, this is Alpha Leader. Fire front advancing on northern position. Estimated contact in fifteen minutes. Containment lines established."
"Copy, Alpha Leader." Sheriff Donovan responds. "Status of personnel?"
"All in position. Weather conditions deteriorating rapidly. Wind speed increasing, shifting easterly."
I grab the radio. "Mac, easterly wind will funnel directly through the canyon to your west. Expect accelerated spread and possible spot fires behind your position."
"Copy that."His voice remains steady despite the implications."Adjusting defensive line to accommodate."
The radio falls silent as teams prepare for imminent contact with the fire front. I stare at the tactical display, watching icon markers that represent real people—Mac, Parker, dozens of Angel's Peak residents standing against an inferno engineered for maximum destruction.
"They're well-prepared." Eleanor's voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. "Every person on that line knows these mountains and respects fire's power."
"It may not be enough." I trace the fire's projected path. "If the wind continues to shift east..."
