“None of us did. She’s the only person who likes him, other than me because he folds shirts,” Kevin admitted.
“What does it matter if Chief Baker knows? Once Soto didn’t recommend me, it showed I didn’t have my captain’s confidence. The probie was the final nail in the coffin. With more staff, he’d have transferred me. Now, he’ll pick someone else,” Aiden sighed.
“We don’t want anyone else, but at least whoever it is will be another body and may actually know firefighting,” Vanessa said. They heard the downstairs door by the reception desk open and a low murmur of Luna’s and another man’s voices.
“I’d better go check on Carver and Rodriguez. Otherwise, our probie will learn zilch, especially if Interim-Captain is busy sucking face with the cop,” Aiden put on his best sourpuss expression and headed downstairs.
Erin hated this. She lived for the team—any team. Her high school basketball team had supported her through her parent’s divorce and her mother’s sudden death from a fluke blood clot. When her dad moved back to Haiti, she’d stayed in community college for almost three years just to play on the basketball team. Then, as a Starbucks barista, she’d ended up a manager because she excelled at keeping everyone on speaking terms. Hell, after that, she’d been the lead singer in a band she’d formed from the day shift at the men’s clothing store.
Teams attracted her to firefighting in Seattle, too. Battalion Chief McClunis’s sales pitch about a team of female firefighters was appealing enough for Erin to move to Cleveland. She and Theo had gotten along great as sort-of probies and replaced a couple of other retirees. Everything was going smoothly until December when Soto split the team down the middle.
The rest of the team crept to the top of the stairway and eavesdropped. Aiden exchanged some terse comments with Luna and Elias. Two doors slammed.
“I’ve got fifteen bucks riding on the probie learning zero and cop-man giving Luna another hickey.” Kevin held up the cash.
Nobody took him up on it.
Everyone worked together to clean up the kitchen and headed back to their bunkrooms around nine p.m. for a quiet night. Erin wondered briefly what the Chief was doing… or who. Good-looking guys didn’t stay single.
Chapter 5
Working fire reported at 1300 West 9th Street,Noah blearily read when his phone went off with the pre-programmed shriek of a major incident.
Sleep forgotten, he sat straight up on the couch. That wasn’t just any fire. That address was Downtown Cleveland, right in the center of the high-rise buildings.Smoke reported 25th floor. First alarm being called.
Noah sprang into action. He had a file on all the high-rise buildings in the municipal area at home. The Chief SUV, aka the Chief Car, had electronic wireless access to the pre-plan blueprints, but it still didn’t beat the dependability and portability of paper.
The building appeared to be primarily apartments, nineteen on each floor. The intent was to have a Lobby Sector Command Post and an outside staging area to direct resources. The building had sprinklers, but those often only slowed well-entrenched fires.
Second, third, and fourth alarm. His phone informed him.
Whoever was in command of the scene had done a very serious risk assessment. The fire had to be legit.
He shrugged into his black jacket, grabbed his keys, and sprinted down the hall to his garage. His turnouts were in the back with his SCBA since they weren’t easy to wear behind the wheel. Even with the sirens on, it still took him fifteen minutes from his home on the West Side to get to the heart of Downtown.
When he got there, the scene was in progress with the staging area and triage set up outside the building. Assistant Chief Eric Cordova was directing resources from the outside with the Incident Commander headset attached to his Chief Car and his aide and safety officer monitoring all radio traffic.
“You come to relieve me?” Cordova asked with an edge of frustration. Noah knew that was partially due to the seriousness of the scene and partially his unease with handing the scene to his superior, who was over twenty years his junior. Their relationship was uneasy since Cordova had been Chief Pegg’s heir apparent before being circumnavigated.
“No. This is your scene. You stay Incident Commander. I’ll assist. Give me a brief rundown,” Noah answered while reviewing the tactical board. It contained Cordova’s organization of the different floors (Sectors), firefighting companies, and chiefs with his aide and safety officer monitoring each resource’s utilization. Noah was already marked on the board as FC1 for Fire Chief 1.
“Fire floor is Sector 25 of 30. We’re in Battalion 2’s service area, so the whole battalion is roused, and help is coming from Battalions 1 and 3. Teams from 9, 10, and 11 are on Sector 25 and Engine 12 is their back-up. BC8 Haskell has Lobby Control with teams from 7 and 8. BC3 Leary’s on Rehab at Sector 22 with the supply team, and BC2 McClunis is up on Operations at Sector 24 with teams from 15 and 16.” Cordova sounded annoyed about McClunis’s presence.
“Can’t keep her away, even when she’s not on call,” Noah observed wryly, donning his turnout jacket and white fire helmet. She had the largest and busiest battalion in the city, and she naturally showed up to command her own people. “Stairways?”
“Clear so far. Stairwell A’s designated for attack and Stairwell B’s for evacuations. Civilian evac is ongoing for the fire floor on Sector 25 and the floor above. Not sure the status yet, but I should know soon. Firehouses 1 through 6 are being assigned to civilian evac instruction on different floors as they arrive.”
Cordova turned his radio to Command Channel to contact Haskell. “Where are we with containment?”
A voice sounded far away. “I’ve got abuzz buzz buzz buzz buzz…”
Noah keyed on his radio. “Lobby Sector, FC1 Baker to BC8 Haskell?” Unlike Cordova, he got through. Heat and building materials often made radio contact inconsistent, and each radio received and boosted the signal individually.
“Lobby sector BC8 Haskell copy FC1 Baker.” Haskell sounded slightly breathless. “High-rise protocols initiated. Ventilation fans are in the stairways, AC is off, elevators controlled and limited to sector twenty-two travel.”
On the surface, Haskell had things in hand. He was playing it safe to stop the elevators at Rehab on Sector 22 instead of Sector 23. However, control could be an illusion. A steady stream of civilians exited the building and were directed to the flashing lights of numerous ambulances at the triage area. Noah did a brief resource count and didn’t like his numbers. “How many fatalities?”
“Don’t know yet. Lots of burns and smoke inhalation on the civies. It was burning for a while before the call came in.” Cordova’s voice dropped a pitch. “We had at least one jumper.”
