Page 112 of Falling for the Playboy Pilot

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DALTON

Ididn’t have time to think about Janna and her hurtful words. I knew I had wounded her with my own first. I got it. She was throwing my words back at me. She wanted me to feel like shit the way I had made her feel.

My natural reaction was to protect myself from people. People got hurt. People died. I couldn’t stop the hurting and dying, but I could protect myself from feeling that pain. And guilt.

Keeping myself from forming relationships allowed me to be the best at my job. I was about to fly into Satan’s inferno and I was thinking about her. That was exactly why I couldn’t be involved in relationships. And she may not admit it, but she was thinking about me. We were both putting ourselves and everyone counting on us at risk because we were both dealing with feelings.

I fucking hate feelings.

I snatched the rest of the gear and made my way over to Chief. I spotted my S-2 on the tarmac and knew it was already loaded with retardant. Judging by the activity, the fire was as bad as it got.

I walked up to Chief while keeping my cool. Panicking and acting like a lunatic helped no one. “Sir.”

He looked at me and I saw it. I’d been working with Chief long enough to know when we were dealing with the real deal. Chief didn’t get rattled. He handled fire operations like someone might take your order for dinner or run a kitchen. He didn’t sweat. He was never concerned. I sometimes felt jealous over his ability to completely detach. I was a cocky, confident son of a bitch but Chief’s confidence was different. It was calm. Quiet. And no one questioned it.

Everyone knew Chief had it. He knew the right answers. He knew what to do in every situation.

And the man standing in front of me looked shook.

“Dalton, this one’s not just another containment run,” he said. “This is Hollow Gorge. That fire is marching on the town.” There was a vein on the side of his head throbbing. And the way his hand clenched the large marker in his hand, I could see his fear. I could feel it. “These people feed us, take care of us. We owe them everything. And right now, we need to give them everything we have. We don’t stop until we’ve drained every resource. And then we dig deep and keep trying.”

“Understood,” I said.

He tapped the board. “I need you to lay retardant lines around the east flank. Slow it down, reroute it away from homes. We’re sending in tankers for support. I’ve warned you about your cocky flying and taking chances, I’m not telling you not to do that now. You do whatever you have to do to save those people. Save that town.”

“Understood.”

Chief pointed to the map marked with red lines and circled areas. “We’re focusing on a defensive perimeter around the town center. Everything outside that—the farms, the outlying properties—we can’t protect them all. Not with what we have.”

I studied the map, tracing the fire’s projected path with my finger. “What about the airfield? Is Reddington safe?”

Chief’s jaw tightened. “Hard to say. The fire line around the airfield is solid for now, but if the wind shifts?” He shrugged. “We’ll have time to drop retardant if it comes to that. But right now, the town takes priority. We need to get everyone out before evac routes get cut off completely.”

I nodded, understanding the seriousness of the situation. In a fire this size, you couldn’t save everything. You had to make choices. Hard ones. It was unfair. I couldn’t do Chief’s job. Or the other leaders that had to decide whose property got saved and which ones were sacrificed for the greater good. That was a lot of pressure. But reality was a bitch and there was just no way to save all of them. Especially in a rural area where they were so spread out.

“Your primary drop zone is here,” Chief continued, pointing to a ridge east of town. “Create a barrier between the fire and the residential area. Secondary drops along this creek bed if you can manage it. Use the natural firebreak. Laser’s spotting from above. She’ll guide you to the hottest spots.”

“Copy that.” I memorized the coordinates, the landmarks, the escape routes. I knew that once I was up there, I would basically be blind. It was going to be thick, black smoke and it would be easy to get lost. I couldn’t afford to drop my load in the wrong place or on top of hotshots on the ground.

“What about the choppers? Janna’s out there with Pickle.” I knew it wasn’t my concern but I told myself I asked because I was concerned for my team. And when we were doing these heavy flight operations, I didn’t want a helicopter getting doused. Air traffic control was a bitch when no one could see anything. It was a choreographed dance. A dance partner stepped on your toes up there and it was lights out for a whole lot of people.

“They’re handling evacuations. Hospital first, then assisted living. They’ll be in and out before the fire reaches town center.”

I wanted to ask more, wanted to know exactly where she’d be at all times, but I caught myself. That was exactly the kind of thinking that would get people killed. I had to trust that Pickle knew what he was doing.

“Anything else I need to know?”

“Yeah.” Chief’s voice dropped. “The fire’s moving faster than our models predicted. Wind’s erratic. What looks safe one minute could be a death trap the next. You stay sharp out there, Herc. We need you focused.”

Focused. Right. The same word Janna had thrown at me minutes ago. I pushed the thought away and grabbed my helmet.

“I’ll do my best, Chief.”

“I know you will.”

I headed toward my aircraft, forcing myself not to look toward the horizon where Janna’s chopper had disappeared. The air was thick with the smell of the fire. The horizon was a grotesque orange and black. Fire was a fucking beast.