by Kay Gordon
It was Owens who restated the chain of events and by the time he was done, my captain’s face was almost purple with anger. He turned to look at one of the guys next to him and shook his head.
“I want that prick out of here, Turner.”
Captain Turner nodded his head and glared at the crotch-grabber. “Go home, Forges. You’re suspended.”
I didn’t wait to see what happened. I grabbed my backpack, spit my name to the person holding the clipboard, and went right for the jet that was waiting for us.
Luckily we were taking one that belonged to the city of New Hope so I wouldn’t have to worry about seeing any of the LVFR guys onboard. I was embarrassed and just wanted to be alone.
I took a seat near the back and buckled myself in. Without thinking, I grabbed my phone and pressed Evan’s name. He answered after two rings and his voice was instantly soothing.
“Miss me already?”
Even though he was obviously teasing, I nodded and swallowed around the lump in my throat. “I really do.”
“Victoria?” His tone was instantly softer. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m better now. What are you doing?”
He told me about some report he was writing and I just listened to him talk while others filed onto the plane.
No one tried to talk to me, not even Lennox from my immediate right, as Evan spoke. It was like he knew I just needed to hear him because he continued on about something mundane. When the seats were full and they were getting ready to close the doors, I sighed.
“Thanks, Ev.”
“Of course. Be careful out there, okay?”
“I always am. I’ll text you when I can.” I ended the call and powered down my phone just as the doors slammed shut. I closed my eyes and let out a long breath.
“Fuck ‘em, Tor.”
I lifted my brows and cracked open an eye so I could see my friend. “I think that’s what he wanted, Ty.”
The shocked looked on his face at my joke was comical all in itself. It took about fifteen seconds before Lennox burst into loud laughter, causing my own to bubble up. I laughed until tears were streaming down my cheeks and when it finally tapered off, my friend shook his head and squeezed my hand.
“Yeah. You’re probably right.”
–––
“I’m beat,” Owens groaned as took a seat in the dirt.
I nodded and dropped my helmet to the ground next to me, along with my gloves, before ripping open the meal tray I’d been given. It wasn’t fancy, just two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, two yogurt tubes, mixed vegetables, and mixed fruits, but I was so hungry that I couldn’t care. We were eating about six meals a day in order to keep our caloric intake up but even then I was starving.
I scarfed down a sandwich in three bites and watched as Owens, Christos, and Trujillo did the same. The four of us were assigned to a mop-up crew and had been running hoses all night in an attempt to stop the fire from spreading. It was sometime in the mid-afternoon but I wasn’t sure how many days we’d been in California.
The second we arrived Monday, we’d been briefed and assigned units before being sent to work. Since then we worked sixteen hours shifts while eating and sleeping the other eight. I hadn’t had a shower in days unless I counted the few times I poured a jug of water over my clothed body.
I was paired up with Owens, Christos, and Trujillo for the most part, which was fine with me. I saw the rest of our company throughout the day but we didn’t do more than grunt at each other.
“What day is it?” Trujillo asked after he sucked down half of the sports drink he’d been given. I shrugged my shoulders as Owens said, “Friday.”
I’d managed to send a text off to Evan before we started our shifts earlier that morning. It was just a quick one letting him know I was okay but there wasn’t time for anything more. I’d been going out on the wildfires for years with no one to really check in with. Neither Vincent nor my father worried too much and even if they did, Vincent could get a status update right from dispatch. Keeping Evan in the loop was something completely new to me.
Christos ate his yogurt and used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. “How’s your head, Jones?”
Earlier that morning, I’d dodged a dead tree that a crew was taking down with chainsaws. The dead tree, which we called a snag, had been weaker at the trunk than they estimated and it fell my way rather that where they wanted it to go. I managed to jump out of the way but my face met the butt of my hose on the way down.
“Hurts like a motherfucker,” I admitted while swallowing more of the ibuprofen the medics had given me. My head was throbbing and I was told I had a black eye, although I hadn’t seen it. I was cleared for duty, though, and that was all that mattered.
“Did they hold the line at that residential area?” I asked Owens and he nodded before crumpling up his garbage.
“Sounds like the threat there is almost completely gone. They’re estimating we’ll have containment to thirty by tonight if the winds don’t pick back up.”
“Good.” Trujillo stood up and started throwing all of our trash away. “The crew we were working with last night was a bunch of slugs. If we have any hope of getting out of here in the next ten days, we need people to actually carry their weight.”
Two helicopters flew over us at that moment, buckets suspended below them that were probably holding water from the nearby reservoir. Helicopters and air tankers had been doing flybys all week to try and drop flame suppressants down for us.
“Let’s get back to it,” Owens ordered as he moved to his feet. I finished the rest of my drink and tossed it in the garbage before grabbing my helmet and gloves. I resituated my gear, including my bottle and my mask, and followed my teammates back to our stations.
We worked for hours, stopping only to refuel, and the sun eventually started to go down. The adrenaline in my body was waning and the aches were starting to kick in slowly but surely. Anytime now, someone would call for us to stop for the day and we would be allowed to head back to our tents. The cots we had in there weren’t anything special but after a long day on the mountain, they might as well have been clouds.
I was sharing my small space with three other females that had come from various parts of California. Two of them were city fighters like I was but one of them was a dedicated wildland fighter. Unfortunately we were all so tired that none of us had had a chance to get to know one another but they seemed cool for the most part.
“I can’t get this candlestick out,” Trujillo said over the com in my ear. A candlestick was a tree that was still standing and engulfed in flames. They weren’t quite as unstable as snags were but you didn’t want to be too close if one fell over.
“I’m coming.” I pulled away from where I was hosing down some smoldering brush with Christos and dragged my hose towards Trujillo. We focused on the twenty-foot tall tree until the flames were out. He turned off his hose, pulled off his helmet, and game a smile.
“Thanks. Fucking stubborn tree.”
I dropped my own helmet and nodded as I grabbed for the water bottle that was strapped to my belt. We both stood there for a moment, rehydrating, before we put our gear back on to go back to the line. We’d just taken two steps when a loud noise could be heard.
“Shit! The snag’s tipping!” Owens screamed in my ear and both Trujillo and I turned to look at the tree. Sure enough, it was falling right where we were standing. The two of us glanced at each other and began to run.
I’d only taken three steps when pain exploded all over my body.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Evan
“Ready to move on my signal,” Lt. Messer said through the earwig in my ear. No one responded but our compliance was assumed.
I stood in the alley behind the dilapidated warehouse with Dom and a few other members of the New Hope task force. All of us were wearing our vests and guns were drawn, ready to take on whatever we found inside.
/> In the four days since Victoria had left for Southern California, one of our informants had come through for us big time. We’d taken his information and followed a few leads and were now standing outside the warehouse where the heroin was supposedly stored, separated, and packaged for distribution.
Making this bust would be huge, potentially cutting off a huge supply route for the lower half of Nevada. And if we could turn whoever was inside to help us move further up the chain or if Zero was actually in there… I was almost giddy thinking about the possibilities.
“Blue team, go!”
Almost instantly, the sounds of the warehouse being infiltrated could be heard. SWAT members yelled for people to put their hands above their heads and move to their knees. About sixty seconds passed before my radio sounded again.
“All teams, move in!”
The six of us went in a side entrance and the smell was the first thing I registered once we were through the door. It smelled like chemicals and corpses- never a good combination.
The small room we entered was dark and empty, with two doors. Dom went to the first one with me on his heels. After sticking his head out quickly and looking around, he moved through the doorway but two quick gunshots rang out in succession.
“Dominic!” I grabbed him by the back of the vest and jerked him backwards, back into the room, just as more gunshots sounded.
“Suspect down. Scene’s clear,” someone said into the radio and I immediately crouched down to inspect my best friend. His face was contorted up in pain and he just shook his head.
“I’m good. One shot got my vest, right in the side. Hurts like a mother fucker.”
I helped him inspect the vest and shook my head as he moved to his feet. “Jesus, don’t do that shit. If you died, Becca would kill me.”
“Yeah, she definitely would. She’ll be mad as hell at you if my rib’s cracked.” He grinned at me and rubbed his chest just as someone said our names. “Let’s go see what we have.”
Over one hundred pounds of heroin, what we assumed was Vitratrope, and eight people who’d been working hard to get it processed and packaged is what we had.
Dom and I spent hours on the scene and even longer at the station, interrogating those we’d brought in and identifying the two who’d been killed during the exchange of gunfire. Other than Dom’s hit to the vest, none of our guys had been touched.
Most of the suspects were eager to give up other people but we were still missing Zero. No one seemed to actually know who he was except for one guy, the second in command who’d been in the warehouse overseeing operations. And he wasn’t talking.
“Clayton Jarvis. Thirty-six-years-old, multiple drug and assault charges. Looks like one more possession and intent charge and you’ve hit your three strikes. Here in Nevada that means life in prison.” I dropped the file onto the table and took a seat in front of where Clayton was currently restrained.
Dom was leaning against the wall and he chuckled quietly. “Won’t just be state lock up, either. You’ll be going someplace federal, Clay boy. Someplace where you don’t have friends.”
Clayton looked completely blasé and continued picking at his dirty fingernails the best he could with his wrists in cuffs. I tapped the table to get his attention.
“The bribery and other bullshit you’ve used to get yourself out of things before won’t work this time, Jarvis. You were overseeing the production of over one hundred pounds of heroin and most of your employees have gladly pointed the finger at you. Give us the names of your bosses and see if you can’t make your life a little easier.”
“What a beautiful speech,” he said as he finally looked at me. His blue eyes were sunken in, probably because he did his fair share of sampling the product. His blonde hair was greasy and balding on top of his head, and his face was full of pockmarks. When he sneered at me, his teeth were rotting in his mouth. “I think I’ll take my chances, though. Good luck, guys.”
Dom kicked Clay’s chair, causing him to fall to the ground, and turned to head out of the interrogation room. I stayed in my seat and watched as the dealer in front of me attempted to get off the floor.
“If you change your mind, let us know,” I told him before calmly picking up the file and turning to follow Dom. Once the door was closed, I rolled my eyes at my oldest friend.
“That was a temper tantrum that your kids would be proud of.”
He held up his hand, showing me his middle finger, before running that same hand through his hair in frustration. “There are more players and we’re not going to catch them all until we have this Zero.”
“We’ll get him.” I thumped my friend on the back and jerked my chin to one of the patrol officers next to me. “Transport will be here for him in about an hour.”
The phone was ringing when we made it back to our desk and Dom picked it up. He took notes as he listened and then nodded at me when he hung up the receiver.
“The lab verified that the other ingredient was Vitratrope. It’s definitely Sludge. It looks like they were getting shipments of the pure and doing the processing in that warehouse.”
“Jesus.” I shook my head and fell into my chair. “I didn’t want to believe it but that shit was being made right here in New Hope all this time.”
Dom nodded and let out a long yawn. “I’ll do my report at home. If I hurry, I can catch Bec before she goes to bed. You sticking around?”
“For a bit longer.” I grinned at my best friend and waved when he exited out small cubicle. Once he as gone, I pulled out my phone and sighed when I saw that I didn’t have any missed calls or texts from Victoria.
I missed the fuck out of that woman. I missed sleeping next to her, eating meals with her, hearing her talk about the most random things. I just missed her.
I also regretted not telling her I loved her before she left. Even though she was completely capable out there doing her job, I still worried about her constantly. All of the news sources about the fire told me everything was okay, though. Besides, Megan Owens and Kelly Christos had taken it upon themselves to add me to a group text. They told me that the firewives had to stick together.
It was a good thing I was comfortable in my masculinity or that shit might have sucked.
It was nice to be included on any communication the two of them had with the other members of Victoria’s company. Anytime Simon or Nick contacted one of the two, they let me know and it eased my worries even more.
The private investigator was having a hard time with proving Tristan had sent the video. Apparently it had originated and been sent from Las Vegas while Tristan was in Phoenix. His alibi was solid because he’d been charged with a DUI while he was there.
That made no difference to me. My brother wasn’t smart enough to get it out to all of the fire departments without help anyway. I knew if we found who actually hit send, we would be able to trace it back to Tristan. The department PI was working with Victoria’s independent PI and I just hoped one of them could figure it out.
It was around ten when I finally decided to pack it in. I saved the document on my computer and grabbed my shit before standing up. I waved to those working the nightshift and was just stepping out to the parking lot when my phone vibrated in my pocket.
I didn’t recognize the number when I touched the screen and brought it to my ear. “Evan Coleman.”
“Evan. It’s Warren Jones.” The frantic tone in his voice had my steps faltering.
“What’s wrong? Is she okay?”
“Someone with shitty reception called but I was told I needed to get to Cedars-Sinai in Los Angeles. Something about an emergency and an airlift.” He paused and I could tell he was trying to keep it together. “Vincent was supposed to be heading out there to join them but I can’t get ahold of him either.”
I forced my feet to move and rushed towards the parking lot. “I’ll be over in ten minutes. We’ll go in my truck.”
A beat of silence passed betwee
n us on the phone before Warren spoke. “Thank you, Evan.”
It only took me nine minutes before I was pulling up in front of his house and he was rushing down the front steps before I was even parked in the driveway. He got into the passenger door and glanced over at me, his face full of worry and fatigue.
“She’s okay.”
“Of course she is,” I agreed, glancing over my shoulder as we pulled back out into the street. “Victoria is tough.”
Not much was said during our three and a half hour drive. Warren kept trying to get in touch with Vincent but without any luck. When he called the hospital, they refused to divulge any information over the phone, much to our frustration.
It was two o’clock in the morning when I parked in front of the emergency department at the hospital and we were both out the second I was stopped.
There wasn’t anyone at the reception desk and both Warren and I looked around frantically, trying to find anyone who could help us. I finally spotted someone who was pushing an empty wheelchair and I crossed over to him in three long strides.
“My girlfriend is a firefighter. If she was airlifted here, where would she be?”
“Uh, without looking her up I can tell you that all of our trauma is on the second floor, along with the burn unit. Elevator’s that way.”
We both nodded and I spit out a quick word of thanks before heading in that direction quickly. When I hit the button for the elevator, Warren shook his head and opened the door to the stairwell.
“Let’s go this way.”
I ran up the stairs behind him until we were both walking out onto the trauma floor. There was an information desk right outside the elevator and we headed right to it. Warren immediately began talking to the person behind it, demanding information about his daughter, and I turned to look around. My eyes caught sight of a woman talking to a doctor down the hallway and I immediately headed in that direction.
