"Don't you all have equipment to check?" I shot back.
"Already done, Lieutenant. We were being hospitable to a member of our community," Evan stated.
"Very hospitable. Now, get back to work. All of you," I demanded.
As they dispersed, Connor looked at me. "What?"
"Nothing. Not a damn thing, Blaze." Connor smirked.
I stalked toward my office, irritated at my crew but mostly at myself for the way my heart beat faster than normal.
I entered my office and dropped the reports on my desk just as the alarm rang. In the span of a heartbeat, my mindshifted from Gisselle to work. The siren triggered a shift in my brain from man to firefighter. My crew snapped into action, conversations forgotten, and expressions sobered as we moved toward our gear.
I pulled on my turnout pants over my uniform. Boots, pants, jacket, and helmet. The ritual was comforting and familiar.
"Routine drill at the Eastside warehouse. Engine 791 and Ladder 791 respond for a training exercise,"the dispatcher's voice announced over the speaker.
The tension eased in my shoulders slightly. It wasn't a real call, but a drill. Still, my crew moved with the same urgency they would in an actual emergency. That was what made 791 the best damn company in the district. We trained as if it were real, every single time.
"Drill or not, I want full gear and standard protocol," I announced, swinging into the captain's seat of Engine 791.
"Yes, sir," the crew responded, taking their positions.
As we pulled out of the bay, I looked for Gisselle, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, knowing she'd been long gone. I forced my attention back to the task at hand. As we drove, the warehouse came into view. A brick structure had fallen from an industrial truck, blocking the main entrance.
"Alright, listen up. The scenario is a search-and-rescue operation with the primary entrance compromised. Smoke conditions throughout. Dane, Connor, you're on primary search. Evan and Jaxon secure a water supply and run a line to the east entrance. I'll get a secondary line through the loading dock."
We pulled up at the warehouse, and the team deployed, each man knowing his role without needing additional instruction. With critical eyes, I noted the smooth coordination and silent communication that came from hours of training together.
"Evan, grab the second line. We need to be ready to provide backup if the primary team encounters heavy fire," I ordered, pointing to the hose.
"Yes, sir!" Evan ran toward the engine with more energy than finesse, yanking the hose so hard it tangled around itself.
"Easy. It's not a race. Do it right," I cautioned.
Evan nodded, slowing down as he pulled the hose toward the hydrant. I followed as he attempted to connect the water source. His gloved hands fumbled with the connection, missing the threading.
"Come on, Rookie. You've done this a hundred times in training," I reminded him.
"Sorry, Lieutenant," he muttered, as the connection slipped again.
Something inside me snapped. The building frustration from the budget meeting, Gisselle's unexpected appearance, Jaxon's flirting, and my confusion about it targeted Evan's innocent mistake.
"Focus. That mistake costs lives! A victim is trapped in a burning building, and you're fumbling around like it's your first day on the job."
Evan froze, and his eagerness fell from my outburst.
"I-I'm sorry, Lieutenant," he stammered.
I was on the warpath, and I knew I'd gone too far. It wasn't about Evan at all. It was a storm brewing inside of me that I couldn't control.
"Continue the drill. Primary team proceed with the search. Evan, get the line and follow me to the position."
We continued the drill, but my team lacked its usual enthusiasm. The guilt sat heavily in my chest.
"Pack it up. Good work today. We'll debrief at the station," I ordered.
As the others loaded the equipment, I approached Evan, who was securing the hose in the compartment. He straightened when he saw me coming, his posture stiffened for another verbal assault.
