Page 16 of Burn Protocol

Rosa gives me a quick wink as Rodriques and Rivera step in. They repeat the exact same steps as her, with the same fluidity. Nobody speaks, but by the time they finally sink down in their seats, I can feel the release of breaths they have been holding. They must be running on pure adrenaline.

I peek out of the truck to see where Elena is. Not that I am looking forward to the confrontation. She is speaking into her radio, and lifts her head just in time to meet my gaze. I instantly hold my breath as if I am caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Her eyes narrow slightly. Apparently she is done talking over the radio, as she grabs her red bag and strides towards me. I scramble back into my corner while her heavy boots climb onto the metal step. She glances at me once, her dark eyes stormy. Then she tosses the bag, closes the compartment, replaces the cylinder, and sinks into her chair.

Fernandes closes the doors and Díaz makes the engine jump to life. Immediately the crew lets all the windows down. The fresh air floods in and I take deep thankful breaths, trying to push away the nausea. I never knew that the smell of burned plastic could be so pungent.

I consider asking some questions while we are still in the heat of the moment, but when I look at the crew, I see they are all tapped out. White faces, strained muscles, and glassy eyes. There is a certain aura around it, as if this moment is sacred. So, I sink back into my seat, breathe deeply, and hold my tongue.

When I glance over at Elena, I see that she is staring at me. Her face is softer than before, but there is a small line between her brows. I blink once, before she turns her head and stares out the window. What is she thinking about?

***

The crew remains quiet, even as we return to the station. They silently clean the truck, their equipment, and eventually their gear. All while still being covered in soot and grime. They waste no time and spare no effort to have the Engine ready to roll out again.

Elena’s the last to leave the truck, but she moves swiftly. I almost have to run to keep up with her. Is it the adrenaline still pumping through her veins, or is this something personal? She’s still angry with you. But why? I only wanted to help. And why the hell am I allowing anyone to treat me like this?

She pauses at the end of the bay where two washing machines are thumping relentlessly. She hangs her red bag in a sealed cabinet with a haphazard sign on the door. I frown, but I am too tense to ask her about it right now.

Elena turns slowly and tosses me an empty plastic bag. I frown again.

“It’s for your clothes.”

“My clothes?”

“Yes. Follow me.”

She doesn’t explain any further but marches back through the hallways. After two turns I start to recognize it. She is taking me to the locker rooms.

Elena holds the door open for me and tilts her head. Her eyes roam over my body again, sending a shiver down my spine before she pulls open one of the lockers. A few seconds later she tosses me a shirt and pants.

“What is this?”

The muscle in her jaw rolls as her eyes meet mine. I can see her eyes blazing again and I shuffle uncomfortably, but refuse to look away. She sighs.

“You stepped out of the truck. You are contaminated.”

“Wh…what?”

Elena’s eyes soften for a moment, and she swallows. Her hand trembles as if she wants to reach out to me, but then she curls her fingers inward. She runs her other hand over her face, trying to compose herself. Something she does a lot, I’ve noticed.

“When you came to ‘help,’” she makes air quotes, “you exposed yourself to toxic particles.”

She turns away from me and starts taking off her shirt, revealing the muscles underneath. I gulp.

“That grimy feeling on your skin right now, that’s soot laced with chemicals. It causes cancer.” She glances over her shoulder, her eyes dark and stormy. “So, strip.”

Her order sends another shiver down my spine and makes heat pool low in my belly. Get a fucking grip, Maya. She is your subject! I curse at my bodily response and unprofessional attitude, but as Elena turns her face away from me, I catch the corner of her lip curling up. She did it on purpose.

After our shower, Elena guides me back to the breakroom. Díaz and Fernandes are lounging on the couches, and two other men sit in the chairs. They eye me up and down without even trying to hide it.

“New rookie, Gonzales?”

“Mind your own business, Torres.”

Rosa lets out a snort from the couch.

“Lighten up, lieutenant. The girl isn’t that bad.”

I feel my cheeks turn crimson at those words. So, Elena did think I was a pain in the ass. On my first day nonetheless. She didn’t even take her time to get to know me but apparently, she already has opinions. Great. Just fucking great.