Page 5 of Burn Protocol

We crouch low, trying to avoid most of the heat, until we reach the staircase. It still looks solid, so I glance over to my crew member. He nods and up we go.

It takes us about two minutes to reach the third floor, carefully testing the steps on our way. I take an immediate left and see all doors are open but one. 302.

Díaz doesn’t need an order. He rushes forward and brings his shoulder down to the wood. Compromised by the heat and flames, the door shatters open on impact.

We enter the apartment that so far seems to have been spared from the flames, although there is no way these ladies will walk out without smoke inhalation.

The first body lies near the kitchen. I sink down to check her pulse. It’s there but weak. I hoist her over my shoulder while Díaz enters the bedroom.

The other woman sits slumped down against the bed. Her eyes are open but dazed. He says something to her, and she wraps her arms around his neck.

Together we work our way back to the stairs, holding both women safely against our bodies. We don’t run—we can’t—but we move fast with big and certain strides. We are down faster than it took us to get up, and I am relieved when my boots hit the ground floor. Stairs crumble way too easily and I always dread having to rely on them.

We push our way back to the threshold and are greeted with EMTs who take the occupants from our hands. I release a sigh of relief and turn toward Díaz, who has the same glint in his eyes I must show right now. We got them out. No casualties on our watch today.

***

I hoist the heavy hose onto my shoulder, before putting it back snugly into its place in the truck. Sweat trickles down my face, drawing streaks in the soot that’s still smudging it. The smell of burned hair, plastic, and wood smoke is still sharp in my nose and clinging to my body. I can’t wait to take a nice hot shower to flush it away.

Right as I am about to turn on my heels to make my way to the locker room, a deep voice cuts through the hall.

“Gonzales, in here. Now.”

Rodriques raises an eyebrow at me, but I simply shrug. I have no idea either. The extraction went according to plan, there were no hiccups during the operation, and everyone walked away safely. It was really just another day at the office.

My boots thud against the tiles as I follow the Chief. He left the door ajar, so I slip in without knocking. Salisar is already back behind his desk, so I sink into the worn leather chair on the other side. He glances up from his paperwork and I see the corners of his lips curl slightly before he speaks.

“Good work out there, Gonzales.”

“Thanks, sir. The crew did an amazing job.”

“Under your instructions.”

I huff, nearly insulted by his statement. “They would’ve done the same on their own,” I retort, and now he really smiles.

The Chief shuffles around some more papers on his desk and then leans back, his gaze finally fully on me.

“How long have you been a bomber now, Elena?”

“About six years, sir.”

“And look at how far you have come.”

I shuffle uncomfortably in my chair. It did take me a while to get used to this place, to get over my own ego of being stationed elsewhere, but now I believe it was the best thing that ever could have happened to me. Right now, I am finally finding joy and satisfaction in my work again, and I guess it is starting to show.

I swallow, because suddenly a cold fear grips my heart. They aren’t going to send me back, are they? Or worse… promote me?

Fernando Salisar seems to notice the shift in my demeanor and he raises his hands, open palms facing me.

“Don’t worry, kiddo. You’re not going anywhere. Just letting you know I am proud of your progress.”

“Thank you, sir,” I say, not being able to keep the caution from lacing my voice.

“Elena, you are a decorated firefighter. People notice your work.”

I grunt an uncommitted reply as he holds my gaze. He seems to bite back a chuckle and softly shakes his head. Then his eyes dart back to the paperwork in front of him again.

“You’ll meet with a reporter from Woman at the Front tomorrow morning at nine AM sharp. I expect you to be accommodating.”