Page 35 of Flash Freeze

“No, wait!” Flash braced the hose behind her butt and turned the spray on the door, wetting it down and shooting water under the crack. “No one’s getting barbequed.”

“Right,” Waylon agreed, positioning his tool to pry the door when she gave the OK. “Good call.”

“Woods, stay on the ceiling,” she instructed. As the smoke dissipated, Flash gave Waylon a nod. “Now.”

His muscles met with little resistance as he forced the door. Sure enough, flames leaped within, engulfing the bed, curtains, and furniture. One interior wall was fully consumed. Waylon took hold of the line, and Flash aimed her stream at the wall of fire. It spat, sputtered, and hissed as the water tamed it.

“Lieutenant!” called Flores, his voice choked.

Flash looked around, noticing that Flores and Woods had moved down the hallway into the heart of the fire. Then she heard a desperate scream cutting through the rumble of the beast. Ahead, several doors down the hallway, stood a woman holding a small child. Between her and the firefighters, a section of burning ceiling had collapsed, blocking her path. Beyond, the full inferno blazed. She stood in a sea of smoke on a tiny island of wet carpet, her hair and clothes drenched from the sprinklers as the flames closed in.

Time stopped. Flash’s first instinct was to dash over the burning ceiling tiles to rescue the woman and child, carrying them to safety before the ceiling above them fell in as well. Captain O’Riley’s words rang in her brain. You’re a lieutenant now, and I’ll have no cowboy heroics out of you. You’ve got more than your own life on the line from now on.

In a split second, she assessed the situation. Fire shot up from the burning rubble before her, a wall of twisting flames behind the woman, the ceiling tiles breaking up, wires dangling, water ineffectively sprinkling from spigots, and a trapped civilian holding a toddler. She ground her jaw, her muscles tensing. This was all on her: saving the trapped victims, protecting her team, demonstrating decisive leadership, obeying her captain’s instructions.

“Woods, stay on the ceiling. Adams, take the floor.” She passed the nozzle to him and dashed, vaulting the burning debris. The heat seared up her legs for an instant before her boots hit the floor, nearly slipping in a steaming puddle. She whipped off her turnout coat and wrapped it around the coughing woman, her eyes red and running, her tears mingling with the sprinkler droplets. She held the hem of her shirt over her child’s face.

“Thank God!”

“This way,” Flash ordered, shuffling her toward the still-burning pile between them and safety.

“What?” Frightened eyes locked with Flash’s. There wasn’t time for explanations.

Flash lifted the child from the mother’s arms, tucked him or her close to her chest, and sprang over the burning rubble still being attacked by the firehoses. She passed the coughing, crying toddler to Woods and raced back for the woman. “Run fast, straight through!” she told her, grabbing her arm. Waylon braced the hose between his knees and reached across the smoldering debris to grab the woman’s other arm.

Settling her a few feet down the hall, Flash retrieved her turnout coat and hit her radio. “Smoke inhalation victims, woman and child, coming down from ninth.”

“Roger that,” came Captain Jake’s voice.

“What about the girl in the window?” Flash hadn’t forgotten her and worried she might have jumped.

“We got her.”

The tightness in Flash’s chest eased, and she allowed a smile. “Woods, take our mother and tot down.”

“Sure thing.” Balancing the toddler on one hip, he wrapped an arm around the woman’s waist. “I’ll take the kid. You hold the railing. It’s all right now.”

Flash joined Flores on his line, trusting Waylon could handle the whipping pressure on his own. They continued down the hall, dousing walls and ceiling, pushing the fire back, encountering no other victims. When nine was out, they moved up to ten, where the fire surrendered without much of a fight. The aerial had done the rest. Jackson’s squad had helped a dozen stranded or fearful civilians from the hotel. The guy in the towel had been in the shower and didn’t hear the alarm, the fire, or the rescue squad. The woman with the child had been asleep. No casualties other than minor burns and smoke inhalation—which could itself be serious. Nita and Al Luis took the mother and child to the hospital.

Flash was soaking wet and smoky when she and her team brought their rolled hoses down and outside to the blessedly cooler air, surprised to see Assistant Chief Velasquez standing with Captain O’Riley. She turned her head, her expression lighting with admiration when she saw Flash. Jake waved her over.

“Allison Johnston told everyone what you did,” Velasquez said.

“Cash.” The captain scowled at her, his arms crossed. “I specifically ordered you to follow protocol to the letter.”

“I know, sir,” she said, nerves squeezing her chest. “But you know I can jump a fire line. I had a clear view of the other side and—”

“And you weren’t risking anyone’s life but your own,” he finished in a stern voice.

Flash was hot, tired, and frustrated. She propped one hand on her hip and gestured with the other. “There wasn’t time to completely suppress the debris pile. The woman and her baby were right there, flames closing in, smoke everywhere. What was I supposed to do? What would you have done?”

O’Riley’s jaw quirked. He cast his gaze to the ground, rubbing the back of his neck. “Exactly what you did, even if I’d catch hell for it.”

The tension in Flash’s shoulders relaxed, and she exhaled, nodding without further discussion.

“It’s tough to make the right call with only split seconds to decide,” said Velasquez. “Your judgment might have been that of a nineteen-year-old, not of an officer ten years older, but you sure don’t lack courage. I know Ms. Johnston and her little one are glad you acted on your instincts rather than regulations. I’ll excuse it, Cash, but you need to follow your captain’s instructions. If things go wrong, he’ll be the one to blame.”

Flash met her gaze honestly. “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but if I had to watch them burn to death when the ceiling fell in on them, I’d find no comfort in blaming Captain Jake. I was the lieutenant on scene. It was my call, and I stand by it. It wasn’t my intent to deviate from safety protocols or disobey my superior. I just did what I had to, and it wasn’t reckless when I knew without a doubt I could do it.”