"So who's pissing off serial arsonists this time?" One of the newer guys—Henderson, maybe three months on the job—askedwith the bravado of someone who'd only heard the stories, never lived them.
"Check with Torres," Martinez said. "His wife has a talent for making powerful enemies."
Brian flipped him off without looking up from his folder.
I stayed quiet. Watched the crew joke and deflect the way firefighters always did when the job got heavy.
But my mind was already running patterns. Serial arson. Targeted buildings.
I knew those buildings.
I'd been documenting them for seven years.
Rodriguez called us into his office after the briefing. Shane, Brian, and me.
The senior crew.
He closed the door behind us. The click of the latch sounded heavier than it should have.
"I got word from the brass this morning." He didn't sit down.
That was the first sign this was bad. Rodriguez always sat for difficult conversations—said it put people at ease. Standing meant he was too wound up to pretend.
"The department is looking at budget cuts. Consolidating resources. Closing firehouses."
My gut tightened before he said the next words.
"Engine 295 is on the shortlist."
Silence.
The kind that fills a room when something unthinkable has been spoken out loud. I could hear the clock on Rodriguez's wall, the distant rumble of traffic outside, and the creak of the building settling around us.
"That's bullshit." Shane's voice was flat. Controlled in a way that meant he was furious. "We have the best response times in Queens. We've trained half the probies in the borough?—"
"I know." Rodriguez held up a hand. "I'm fighting it. But the pressure is coming from high up. Higher than I've ever seen for a routine budget review."
"What can we do?" Brian asked.
"Your jobs." Rodriguez's jaw was tight—I could see the muscle jumping. "Be the best. Document everything. Give them no ammunition."
A pause.
"And hope that's enough."
Shane started asking about timelines, appeals, and union involvement. Brian was already strategizing about which council members might be sympathetic.
I stayed quiet.
I didn't believe it. Not for a second.
Budget cuts. Consolidation. Routine review.
Engine 295 asked too many questions. Reported too many violations. Pushed back when inspectors tried to sign off on buildings that should have been condemned. We were inconvenient to people who profited from cutting corners.
This wasn't random.
And I was going to prove it.
