“God fucking damn it!”

The angry voice rang out over the rest of the men, who stood silent, their faces ashen.

Captain Phillips paced the ground, cursing under his breath. “How could this have happened and where the hell is your captain?” He jerked to a stop and glared at Moose, his face indignant.

“He’s on his way,” Moose insisted yet he kept his voice low. “We had everything checked. The accident shouldn’t have happened.”

“This is fucking bullshit!” Steel tossed down his equipment and stormed away. “I’m done with this. Done!”

“Well, it fucking did. What the hell precautions were taken with these chutes? Did anyone actually test them before we placed all our men’s lives in danger?” Captain Phillips confronted Moose, his voice strained.

“What in the hell happened up there?” Riker asked as he flanked Garcia’s side.

Garcia looked up at the larger man and swallowed hard. “I don’t know. We jumped. His chute wouldn’t open. That’s all I know.” He’d never been around a jump like this. He was shaking from adrenaline and rage. Clenching his fist, he looked around at the other jumpers. Every man and woman bore the pain of losing one of their own.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Antonio spat as he joined the group.

Stoker shook his head and looked up toward the mountain. They could all see flashing lights from the emergency vehicles. “I can’t believe this.”

“When your captain gets here, I need to know. Do you understand?” Captain Phillips pointed his finger at Moose and walked off, heading in the direction of the team. When he approached, he softened his expression. “Puevos, Hansen, are you guys okay?”

“Yeah,” Stoker answered first.

His eyes never leaving the mountain, Garcia finally nodded. “I swear to God, it was as if he didn’t care he was going to die. He didn’t react. He didn’t flail. He didn’t fight. He just dropped.”

The captain patted him on the back. “Some men know when their time is up. Sad but true.”

“That’s bullshit. The chute should have worked,” Moose insisted.

“Yes, it should have. You were responsible for making certain they worked,” Antonio snapped.

“Fighting isn’t going to help anything,” Zane said as he glared at every man.

Garcia gave his captain a sideways glance. “There was nothing we could do. Nothing.” He watched Cooper talking with the Wildland Commissioner, able to tell Cooper was more than pissed.

“He fell off the mountain. The goddamn mountain.” Stoker’s voice was barely audible.

Cooper lumbered over, his face pinched. “They don’t know a damn thing. But I can tell you this, those chutes came from China. China! The county ordered them, and Wildland didn’t check them out. Not once.”

“There will be a huge lawsuit,” Riker piped in.

“And there should be,” Landen half whispered.

The captain grimaced. “Okay, I’m going to be here a while. Antonio, take the crew back. We are done here and no, there’s nothing you can do. You both did your best.”

“Doesn’t seem like it, Cap’n,” Stoker said as he kicked his heel into the dirt.

Boone wrapped his arm around Stoker’s shoulders. “Tough when this shit happens, but it does.”

“Especially when corners are cut,” Riker snarled.

“Okay. Enough. Go back to the hangar. Go out and have a drink. Get your mind off this. I’ll get as much information as I can, so we can figure out next steps.” Captain Phillips had a faraway look.

“What the hell are the next steps?” Garcia whispered. He exhaled when the captain looked at him, his eyes holding such sorrow.

“All right. Let’s get out of here.” Antonio backed away, beckoning for the team.

Stoker and Garcia stood behind as the others climbed onto the bus. There was nothing left to say, no words that would calm an aching spirit. “Did he have a family?” Garcia finally asked.

“I don’t know. I’m sure they’ll take care of his family if he has one. Come on, buddy. Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Stoker gave him a smile. “I know it’s hard.”

“Seeing a man die or knowing it could have been one of us?”

“Both.”

As they climbed onto the bus, Garcia took one last look at the mountain. No matter what anyone thought, smokejumping was a dangerous profession.

The team sat quietly as the bus rolled, passing by several of the Rattlesnake team. Not one of them waved or even reacted. They were all shell shocked.

“You can bet the captain will find out what went wrong,” Sawyer finally said.

“If anyone will tell the truth,” Landen stated.

“You can’t think like that,” Cooper piped up.

“And why the hell not? Our jobs are already in jeopardy and sub-par equipment was purchased. I think we all need to understand that no one in this town gives a fuck about what we do.” Sawyer’s voice rang out.

Everyone looked at him, the usually quiet man who never bucked against the profession or anyone in charge.

Riker held up his arm, his fist clenched. “Prevent. Protect. Preserve.”

“Yeah. Well, we tried,” Landen said, sadness in his tone.

“Prevent. Protect. Preserve,” Cooper stated. “We can do this.”

They all slumped against their seats, the usual rowdy bunch squelched by the occurrence.

Garcia had no doubt. None of them would ever be the same. They all remained in a zone, quiet and un-talkative.

“So, this girl,” Stoker said after several minutes.

“Laney Cavanaugh,” Garcia whispered. He clenched his fist, unable to get the fall out of his mind.

“She’s the right one?” The question was matter of fact.

“Yeah. I think she is.”

Stoker bumped his arm. “Then you need to make certain she understands what you do.”

Garcia exhaled. “Yeah, I know.” He looked out the window, studying the terrain, his mind racing.

“The clandestine comment from before. What’s wrong?” Stoker continued.

“I just think she has a past that’s coming back to haunt her. She’s afraid and worried about getting involved. It’s not about what I do.” Garcia issued the words carefully. He could tell the others were paying way too close of attention.

“Then you both need to be honest with each other, but give her time. Trust is very tough. You know I get it.” Stoker laughed. “Every day with Jessica is new and usually challenging.”

“I get it. I really do, but I’m not looking for marriage or kids or anything like it.” Garcia continued to look out the window.

Landen snorted. “Sorry, guy. Not trying to listen in but you’re absolutely looking for a relationship. You were built for one.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Garcia moved to the edge of his seat.

“You’re just ready. That’s all.”

Stoker chuckled. “I think Landen is right. You are.”

“Like fuckin’ hell.” As soon as Garcia said the words, he huffed, his heart racing. Why lie to himself? He was a lonely man.

A buzz sounded, coming from the radio at the front of the bus.

“What the hell?” Antonio moved up, grabbing the pole.

“This is Captain Banyon of the Fire Department. Units 12, 15 and 16 are looking for any available units. We have a three-alarm fire coming from the base of the Bitterroot Mountains. Several ranches are involved. We are surrounded by fire. I repeat. We are surrounded by fire.”

“Fuck!” Riker hissed. “That’s not far from here.”

Antonio shook his head and grabbed the receiver. “Captain Banyon. This is Antonio Giovanni of the Jackal smokejumping team. We hear your position and we’re on our way.”

“Thank God, Giovanni. We’re boxed in.”

The words rang in the bus and had every man rising to their feet.

“We’ll have your back,” Antonio stated. “Our ETA is six minutes.”

“Come in on the south side. That’s the only way to try and stop this. And Giovanni, the fire is threatening at least a couple of the larger ranches.”

Garcia gripped the back of the seat, sweat beading down both sides of his face. “We have to help them.”

“Bitterroot. Some of the largest ranches are there,” Riker said as he looked at Boone.

“Ranches worth millions of dollars,” Sawyer said under his breath.

“Let’s roll, gentlemen. We have a fire to tend to.” Antonio remained on his feet.

As the bus driver accelerated, taking the twisting turns at excessive speed, Garcia said a silent prayer. This shit couldn’t happen again. Not again.

“Don’t worry. We can do this,” Stoker said so only Garcia could hear.

Garcia turned to look at his friend and for the first time since joining the team, he was terrified.

“Suit up. We need to be ready,” Antonio directed. “I’ll contact Tyler and see what we’re dealing with.”

“If they’re boxed in, the damn fire is hot. Too hot,” Cooper nodded to Stoker.

“What are you thinking?” Stoker asked as he leaned forward.

Cooper shrugged. “All those fires at expensive ranches and businesses.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions, boys,” Antonio hissed. “We have no details. Tyler, we have a situation.”

“I heard,” Tyler said through the speaker. “We have two other engine companies going in, trying to save various structures. Wildroot Ranch looks like it’s the hardest hit and smack in the middle.”

“All right. We’ll go in there.” Antonio rubbed his eyes.

“From what I’ve heard, the owners are away for two months,” Tyler added. “And before you ask, no idea what started the fire; however, several hundred acres have already been consumed.”

The men looked back and forth at each other. For a fire to consume any amount of land during this season, and especially after several recent rains and snowstorms, there was more to this than a careless fire.

They all knew it. They all understood.

“Keep us informed. We’ll be there in five.” Antonio ended the call.

“Wildroot? I know the place. Used to go there as a kid,” Boone offered. “They store a hell of a lot of oil in underground containers for equipment.”

“Didn’t hear any explosions,” Sawyer said, his eyes open wide.

“If they’re underground and leaked then blew, the fresh snow would have muffled the noise.” Riker glanced up at Antonio. “Shit I know from the past.”

Antonio nodded. “Whatever the case. Our goal is to keep the fire from spreading and get the firefighters a way out. That’s it.” He looked out the window. “Okay, this is Wildroot Ranch. Eight thousand prime acres of burnable land.”

Five minutes later the bus pulled up on a sparse piece of land and even from where they were sitting, they could see at least three sets of fires blazing, threatening to crawl up the mountain.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Landen hissed as he jumped off the bus, dragging his gear.

“Okay. Hansen, Puevos and Martin, you’re coming with me straight in from the south side.” Antonio looked up at the mountains. “We don’t have much time given the brisk wind. “Sheffield, Weaver, Lincoln, you guys go around to the left but curve around to meet us. See if we can cut this fucker off. And don’t do anything stupid.”

“You can’t break up the team.” Cooper’s voice was gruff.

“We don’t have a choice,” Antonio huffed.

Cooper moved closer as he buttoned his jacket. “You know protocol. You can’t break up the team.”

The tension was palpable.

Garcia glanced at Stoker, not surprised his friend’s face held a smugness. Stoker would never be friends with Antonio, let alone the hatchet being buried.

“You’re not in charge here,” Antonio hissed.

Cooper closed the distance. “If you break up this team, you could sign all our death warrants.”

Antonio seemed to hesitate, as if debating. “We don’t have a choice. I’m making the call.”

“We need to get going,” Riker hissed.

Shooting Riker a nasty look, Antonio nodded. “Follow my orders.”

“Then I’m coming with you,” Cooper stated as he buttoned his jacket.

Antonio opened his mouth to retort then nodded. “We need every man we can get. Let’s go.”

Cooper grabbed Antonio’s shoulder. “If this goes badly, I’ll hand your ass to the captain on a silver platter. Do you understand?”

Antonio jerked away, a sneer on his face. “Get moving. Now!”

The teams took off, moving quickly and in a straight line. Antonio led and within thirty seconds, they were overtaken by smoke.

“Christ. That smells like oil,” Boone said as he slapped down his mask.

“I agree with Cooper. It would be stupid to break up the team,” Landen said as he pointed toward the tops of the trees. We’re going to have a crown fire on our hands soon as it is.”

Ignoring him, Antonio pointed. “Puevos, Hansen, take the saws over there. Boone and I will dig trenches.” He clicked on the radio. “Captain Banyon, this is Giovanni. We are in position. Any change?”

They heard a series of clicks. “Giovanni, we’re making some headway but come in straight and to the left.”

“Will do.” Antonio motioned.

“The man is going to get us killed,” Stoker said under his breath. “Fuckin’ hotdogger.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Garcia said, his tone even.

Stoker rolled his eyes and shoved an ax into the belt loop of his jacket. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Yeah.” Garcia pulled the cord for the chainsaw and followed beside Stoker as they began cutting thin underbrush at first, then moving to larger trees. The entire area in front of them was covered with various pines, kindling for wildfires. The smoke rolled in the upper areas of the trees, giant puffs of acrid smelling blackness. While the air had a distinct and sickening stench, he couldn’t decipher oil.

“Over here.” Stoker directed, and they cut side by side, moving forward then swinging their arc out to the side. Within a few minutes, they lost sight of Antonio and Boone. “Shit. This is too massive. We’re not going to make any headway.”

“Keep cutting. Riker and Landen will curve around at some point.”

“What if it’s too late?” Stoker asked.

The words sent a chill down Garcia’s spine.

They moved continuously, cutting until the trees easily fell then kicking them aside. The smoke continued to thicken as the wind swirled, whipping around them.

Every man dug in.

After three hours, Stoker stopped. “Giovanni. Where the hell are you guys?”

“The fire is turning over here. I can hear firefighters in the distance. Stay the course until you’re told otherwise,” Antonio commanded.

Stoker took his hand away from the radio and surveyed the area. “That man is insane. We’re not going to be able to do enough to make a damn difference.”

“Christ. Look.” Garcia trudged through a small opening in the trees. “There’s the ranch house.”

Stoker rubbed soot from his face and flanked his side. “That has to be oil. Look at the scorched earth, the even pattern.”

“Yeah, I don’t know.”

“Everything isn’t about arson. Come on. Today is not a good day to die.”

Garcia wiped sweat from his eyes before he revved the chainsaw. Not only were the firefighters boxed in from the fire, but by the water source itself. The nearby river provided water, but the area had difficult terrain surrounding it.

They worked side by side, cutting and chipping away at the snarled underbrush, the area thick with briars.

“Giovanni, where are you? We need help over here,” Stoker screamed into the radio.

“I can see some of the firefighters.” Garcia pointed through a small clearing. “It’s going to be dark soon. This isn’t the best place to be.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know. Damn it, Giovanni.”

A moment of static was followed by clicks. “Stoker. We can hear the saws.”

Stoker shook his head. “Riker, how close?”

“Two minutes from what I can guess. Fire is rolling hot here but turning toward the river.” Riker’s voice was exasperated. “Fuck this.”

Through the radio, they heard a tremendous cracking sound.

Boom!

Even the earth where Stoker and Garcia stood shook, a thunderous reverberation followed by a cackling from some animal.

“Are you hurt?” Stoker demanded.

Crack! Snap!

Garcia took long strides toward him. “What the hell?”

“Riker. Are you hurt? What is your status?”

“No. The damn tree took out one of our chainsaws but we’re fine,” Riker snarled.

“We’re headed in your direction.” Stoker shook his head. “This is insane.”

“Let’s go. We’re close enough.” Garcia moved to the left, carving out and cutting, Stoker following behind.

In what seemed like thirty minutes, they noticed Sawyer leaning against a tree. Garcia pointed.

“Lincoln. Where are Riker and Landen?” Stoker asked as he trudged through underbrush and over several fallen trees.

“Just over there. We can see a group of firefighters. I think we’ve made a difference,” Sawyer huffed. “Let me borrow that ax of yours.”

Garcia looked down at Sawyer’s leg. “You’re injured.”

“A tree limb hit me on the way down,” Sawyer said as he tented his pants. “I’m fine.”

Stoker moved closer, yanking and handing him the ax. He looked up at the trees and took a deep whiff. “I don’t like this. The air is rancid.”

“Yeah. Look at the smoke. Thick with oil.” Garcia held out his hand, rubbing his fingers together.

“This shit is far too combustible. Come on.” Stoker moved past.

Sawyer swung the ax, cutting at the closest pines. As he walked ahead, he did so with a distinct limp.

“Damn it, Sawyer.”

“I’m fine,” Sawyer retorted.

Garcia remained by his side as they continued on their path. Hitting a tree stump, his saw jammed. “Shit.” He yanked and wiggled the blade, trying to remove the chain from the dense tree. “Fuckin’ thing is stuck.”

“Easy. Slow and easy. Don’t jerk it or you’ll lose the chain,” Sawyer directed.

Just then, they heard a sound, a rustling in the trees. “Shh. Listen for a second.” Garcia held out his arm and turned in a circle.

Landen popped through the trees, followed by Riker. “There you guys are.”

“Quiet. What the hell is that noise?” Stoker took several steps in the direction of the sound.

Riker flanked his side, looking into the shadows. “I don’t hear a damn thing.”

Roar!

“Jesus mother of God.” Sawyer took a giant step backwards, almost tripping over a fallen tree.

“That’s an animal,” Garcia whispered.

“One pissed off animal,” Riker added.

Crack! Whoosh!

Within seconds, the crackling of the underbrush was mixed with a rush of wild howling, savage growls.

“Oh shit!” Stoker pointed.

“A bear? Are you—” Garcia was cut off as the beast charged toward them.

“Get the hell out of the way,” Riker directed as he hunkered down, holding the ax in his hands.

Landen reacted, dropping the chainsaw and walking in the direction of the bear.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Stoker screamed. “Get back here.”

The bear continued charging, his look wild and full of terror.

Garcia moved to the side and noticed Landen pulling a knife from his pocket. “Shit. You aren’t—”

Wham!

Eeerrr!

The bear went down with a hard thump.

“What just happened?” Sawyer managed after a few seconds.

“Jesus!” Garcia exclaimed.

Landen remained where he was then inched closer when the bear didn’t try to get to its feet. “The bear was in the goddamn fire. He was just trying to get away. Poor defenseless creature.” Yanking the knife, he stood watching the bear move, shifting then remaining quiet.

The others clamored around him.

“Wow,” Sawyer whistled.

“Nice fucking shot. Remind me never to get into a bar fight with you, buddy.” Riker inched closer. “Look at his hind legs. Burned.”

“He’s dead. A hell of a better way to die,” Landen stated with conviction.

Garcia held the still running saw by his side as he closed the distance. Let’s finish this.” As they heard another sound they remained frozen until two firefighters moved out of the smoke.

“Come on, it’s almost dark.” The tone of Riker’s voice was one of bitter anger.

* * *

Troy glared at the restaurant before getting out of his car. He’d promised his little boy a pizza for dinner and instead, he’d been summoned for a meeting. Why couldn’t it have waited until Monday at the office? He grabbed his briefcase and yanked the keys from the ignition, easing out of the car then slamming the door. After hitting the lock on the key fob, he shoved the keys into his pocket and kept his head down as he walked to the restaurant’s entrance.

Once inside, he was seated almost immediately. He’d requested a table in back, away from prying eyes. He had a feeling this meeting, albeit casual in nature, would be a veiled threat. Why else choose a popular restaurant smack in the middle of town. He sat back and waited, his nerves on edge. He was a corporation attorney for God’s sake. How his life had been turned upside down, keeping the wealthy from going to prison for extortion and various other horrific crimes was beyond him.

Yeah, he knew the answer. Money. He was tapped. Broke. To say he was living paycheck to paycheck was a stretch. He ordered a bourbon neat and tapped his fingers on the table, wiping sweat from his brow. He had no idea even who he was meeting with. His contact had merely told him two men from the corporate headquarters. A sickening feeling remained in the pit of his stomach.

It seemed to take an exorbitant amount of time before the drink arrived. “Go ahead and bring me another one.” He glared up at the waiter, who seemed to have no idea why a man dressed in a suit would crave guzzling more than one drink. The moment he reached for the fine leaded crystal, he almost knocked it over. Exhaling, he grabbed the glass with both hands, counting to five before taking a sip. Then a gulp.

The smooth liquor did little to calm his ragged nerves. He’d go through with the meeting then they’d be gone. He’d figure out what else to do to get his client out of jail then all would be back to normal. As he waited, he tried to relax, studying everyone else in the restaurant. He recognized no one. Thank God, for simple things. He’d worked so hard to achieve his status and now…

“Mr. Bruester?”

The voice was dark, laced with what Troy would call an edge hinting of danger. He stood, again almost knocking over his drink. He looked at both men, forcing a smile.

One looked at the other, a quiet expression shared between the two. “I’m Anthony Vinchenzo and this is my partner, Michael Tavish. Sorry we’re late. The flight in was rough.”

“I just arrived. Sit down, gentlemen. I know we have business to discuss. I have a family to get back to.” Troy kept his voice even, nonchalant as he studied both men. Well dressed and wearing Rolexes, he could also see what appeared to be gun holsters under their jackets. How the hell did they get those through airport security? He plastered on a smile and flagged the waiter.

“A drink sounds excellent. We can get to know each other better,” Anthony chuckled and leaned over the table. “And what we say here stays at this table. Do you understand exactly what I’m saying?”

“Absolutely.” He understood all right.

When the man leaned over, Troy had a clear shot of the pistol. Sweat began to bead across his forehead, strings already sliding down the back of his neck. He wasn’t cut out for this shit.

* * *

Laney stood just outside the restaurant, searching the parking lot for Garcia’s truck. The majority of vehicles nestled in the small lot were expensive cars, Mercedes and Lexus. She patted the hood of her Honda and grimaced. The dress had cost far too much for her salary, but she wanted to look beautiful, feminine. Beguiling. She sighed and held her clutch to her chest as she studied the few people entering the massive set of wooden doors. Why Garcia had selected Toro’s, the swankiest restaurant in town was beyond her.

She managed to see the time given the bright overhead lights and shivered. She was five minutes early. Men were barely on time. He wasn’t late. She glanced around the parking lot again then decided to go inside. She could wait just as easily at a nice table, maybe indulging in a glass of wine before his arrival. You bet she was nervous.

Very carefully she walked toward the entrance, cognizant of her heels clipping on the asphalt. Even given the one hundred fifty dollars spent on the silk dress, she felt underdressed. Every woman seemed to have on a fur coat and one that no doubt cost more than a year, two years of salary. She wrinkled her nose and placed her hand on her very fake costume jewelry necklace. At least in dim lighting no one would be able to tell they weren’t diamonds and rubies.

The moment she walked inside, her mouth watered. The restaurant was well known for serving the finest Wagyu steaks in all of Montana. At least so she’d heard.

“Can I help you?” the hostess asked.

The wooden paneling and gothic art seemed too formal, even out of place. “I’m not certain if there’s a reservation for Puevos?”

“How do you spell that?” she asked tartly.

Laney resisted giving a nasty retort. “P. U. E.V. O. S. Does that help?”

The girl nodded and checked her list. “Yes. Is your husband with you?”

Surprised at the faux pas, she offered the pimply faced girl her best alluring smile. “Oh, he’s just my lover, a man so good in bed that he needs a raw steak in order to keep up his strength.”

Sputtering, the girl jerked her head, her eyes open wide. “Well. I. Um.”

“Is our table ready?”

“Yes, of course. Right this way.” Jerking two menus from the stand, she took short but quick steps into the dining room.

Laney resisted giggling and while she’d never done anything so ridiculous, the act felt damn good. Maybe Garcia was helping her come out of her shell. As she walked through the crowded dining room, she kept her head high and could tell several men were undressing her with their eyes, nodding in appreciation. One even lifted his glass of wine.

The moment she was seated, she slunk against the high back wooden chair. The table was covered in white linen, polished silver and crystal glasses. This wasn’t her in any manner. She was a jeans and boots kind of girl. Why would he pick this kind of place after his comment regarding her usual attire? He’s testing you. That’s what it is. But why? Was he trying to pick her apart?

Grumbling under her breath, she would find out. Oh, yes, she would. In fact, he’d hear a piece of her mind. The light of the flickering candle drew her attention. She had to admit, the setting was very sensual. The table nestled against a floor to ceiling window, she could see an impressive garden, trees covered in twinkling white lighting.

“What am I doing here?”

“May I offer you a drink?”

Jumping, she looked at the waiter and nodded. “A large glass of merlot.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

Now, she was a ma’am. She waited, doing her best to try and act nonchalant, even comfortable. Her thoughts drifted to Garcia, including his profession. Could she really date a smokejumper? Closing her eyes, she could see the fire, the blaze ripping through the small house, taking away everything she’d ever cared about. She held her breath as the images flowed, moving at a rapid speed. There’d been nothing she could do, not a damn thing. Her world and all her belongings lost in a blast that had rattled the entire neighborhood. The only saving grace? She hadn’t been inside.

“Here you are.”

Jumping at the sound of the deep voice, she shook the table. “I…”

The waiter eased the wine on the table, his eyes narrowing.

“Thank you,” she half whispered and gave him a slight smile. Why was she thinking about the fire now? That had been a lifetime ago. Still, the images of her pictures and knickknacks, her treasured pieces she’d acquired over the years came into her mind. Every book, every special blanket and the dishes from her grandmother, even the special cutting board her father had made her one Christmas. All gone.

She swirled the wine and took a nervous sip then checked her watch. Garcia was now late. She hated anyone who was late. She glanced at her phone, thinking about texting him. No, this wasn’t high school. After taking a sip, she chastised her impatience. He was a busy man. She turned her attention back to the lights, falling into a mesmerizing moment of reflection.

“You need to come with us.”

She looked up at the detective and shook her head. “Why bother? They found me. They thought I was inside.”

“Because we can keep you safe. There are ways.”

“Protection? How are you going to be able to protect me? How? Look at that. Look!” She wailed as she glared at the remains of her home, the only home she’d ever known.

The detective touched her arm. “I know this is tough, but you need to trust me. The department can help you.”

Help. They could only help if she lost herself.

“Hey there. What a wonderful surprise.”

Laney opened her eyes and in the reflection, she saw him standing by the table, his smile so genuine. “Troy.” She turned her head and for a moment, a fleeting yet chilling yank on the fear nestled inside, she saw nothing but images from before.

“Are you meeting someone?”

She nodded and quickly looked at the time. How had almost twenty minutes gone by? Her mouth remained dry, her skin prickling. She tried to smile. “Yes. He’s running late.”

“He?” Troy’s smile disappeared for a few seconds as if the understanding settling in. “I’m sorry to interrupt. You were just sitting all alone. A beautiful woman should never be alone.”

“He’ll be here soon. What are you doing here?” She searched the room, looking for his date. There was no jealousy, merely curiosity.

“Just clients. Their treat,” Troy said as he laughed. When she didn’t respond, he patted her shoulder. “Why don’t you bring your glass of wine. When he arrives, I’ll certainly let you go. We’re just over there.”

She followed where he was pointing and could see two men, animated in their conversations. One thing was for certain, she hated being all alone. “I guess that would be all right.”

“Good. Excellent. Come on. I’ll introduce you.” He waited until she stood, then gripped her arm.

The touch was possessive, controlling yet she allowed herself to be pulled toward the table, to men she’d never seen. The moment she was presented, she shrunk back into another moment from the past.

“Michael Tavish, Anthony Vinchenzo, I’d like you to meet Laney Cavanaugh.”

As she shook their hands, a powerful memory grabbed every ounce of her breath. Unable to focus, she was pulled into the damning series of visions.

* * *

Garcia hung his head in the shower, allowing the water to cascade over his shoulders. He continued to suck in air, doing everything he could to calm the fuck down.

“You all right?” Stoker eased into the shower next to him, turning on the water.

“Hell no. Are you?”

“We survived. That’s something.”

Lifting his head, he could tell Stoker continued to fume. “We shouldn’t have been there. Not like that,” Garcia said.

“What about the bear? Huh? The way Landen handled the blade. Awesome.”

Garcia washed off the remainder of the soap and turned around, tipping his head back and gurgling water. After he spit, he turned off the water and slapped his hand against the tile. “You know what I’m talking about, Stoker.” The thudding noise echoed. “That was ridiculous. The chutes should have been tested long before we were slapped into that plane. We won’t talk about Antonio’s bullshit. He has far too much regard for his fake position.”

“Look, I agree with you. The parachutes no one had a way of knowing. Not until they were put into action. And you know Riker and Cooper are in there right now, telling the captain everything. Antonio did what he thought he should do.”

“Antonio is a hothead bucking for Captain Phillips’ job.” Garcia walked toward the towels. As he passed by Boone he stopped and controlled his anger. “How’s Sawyer?”

“He’s fine. Refused to stay at the hospital, the old fart. They patched him up and he’s no doubt headed to grab a cold one. Maybe what we all should do.” Boone exhaled. “I know I need something tonight.”

Garcia hissed and clenched his fist. This couldn’t be happening. Laney would never believe the story, or she’d run further away. “Oh shit.”

“What, hot date?” Stoker teased.

“Actually, yes. What the hell time is it?” Garcia dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist.

“After ten.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! I left her there. Oh my God. She’ll never forgive me.” Garcia raced into the locker room, grabbing his phone. The single text was telling.

You never showed.

“I’m an idiot.” He paced back and forth as he texted her. I’m sorry. Can I give you a call? Something came up. Something. Yeah, that was exactly the right thing to say.

“Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?” Boone called.

Garcia jerked on his jeans, yanking his shirt out of the locker. She wouldn’t forgive him. There was no way.

Stoker walked into the locker room, a grin on his face. “A date with Laney.”

“Yeah, well I doubt she’ll ever talk to me again. I’m a dumb fuck.”

“Just out of curiosity. Where were you taking her?”

“Toro’s.”

Coughing, Stoker opened his locker. “Did someone die and leave you money? Wait, do you have a huge bank account hidden?”

“Whoa, the man has good taste. Who knew?” Boone teased.

“All of you. Get away from me! I wanted to take her far away from the lot of you.” Garcia dialed her number. The call went immediately to voice mail. “Laney. I’m sorry. Are you still there? I’m on my way. Please call me back.”

The sound of loud voices floated into the room.

“What the hell?” Boone walked toward the doorway. “Uh-oh. Antonio and Riker are getting into it.”

Stoker struggled into his pants and followed the others out into the hangar. “That doesn’t look good.”

The door was open, and the angry voices floated toward them. Cooper shook his head and walked out of the captain’s office, slamming the door.

“Ugly. Fantastic,” Garcia mumbled.

“I’d stay back if I were you,” Cooper said as he walked toward them. “Ain’t nothing you need to be involved in.” He eased beside Garcia. “Just a manner of discussion.”

“Some discussion,” Landen huffed.

Garcia looked over his shoulder, studying the body language of all three men. “The captain looks pissed.”

“Yeah, well he should be.” Stoker folded his arms.

“Been a shit day,” Landen said under his breath.

“You can say that again. What about Jimmy Martin. Any news?” Garcia asked.

“Haven’t heard anything new. Whoa, look busy,” Cooper stated.

The door was flung open and the captain stormed out into the hangar, looking at every man. “I’m only going to say this once. We are a team. Period. I don’t give a shit about anyone’s hidden agenda. We saw what could happen today. A man died. We aren’t going to allow that on our team. I’m trying to save your jobs. All of you. That doesn’t mean you can handle a fire situation any way you want to, including killing a damn bear.” He waited as if anyone was going to challenge.

The entire group remained quiet.

Garcia could see the look of fury on Antonio’s face.

“Good. I’ll expect you all in here tomorrow at six am.”

“On a Sunday?” Stoker shot off.

The captain snapped his head in Stoker’s direction then took two strides toward him.

Riker stormed out of the captain’s office, moving directly toward the team. Antonio followed, only he remained with his hands in his pockets, leaning against the far wall.

“Wow,” Garcia muttered under his breath. He’d never seen this kind of expression on Antonio before. Nothing bothered the flamboyant Italian. Until now.

“On a goddamn Sunday. It appears that everyone needs some additional retraining and this time, I’m gonna be the one to do it. Are we clear?” Captain Phillips’ voice rocketed throughout the hangar.

“Yes, sir,” they answered collectively.

“And one more thing. Until further notice, Cooper is the second in charge and Sawyer will be the lead in the field. He is the senior smokejumper.” The captain closed his eyes before speaking again. “I don’t know any of the details yet, but there is going to be a service for Jimmy Martin and we are all going to honor this man. Every one of us. No excuses.”

“Of course not, sir. He was one of us,” Landen said, his voice strained. “We have to remember him as a hero.”

Captain Phillips nodded and looked at each man in the eyes. “We are all family.”

Garcia slumped, tears in his eyes. “Family. Yes, sir.”

“Family,” Riker whispered.

“Family,” Stoker said.

The captain wiped his eyes. “I’ll let you know when I have the details. Are there any questions?”

“No, sir,” Landen answered for all of them.

“Then get the hell out of here. Except for you, Garcia. In my office.”

“But, sir, I’m late for a date.” Garcia knew his excuse wouldn’t fly. Not now.

Captain Phillips inhaled and eased back his head. “Puevos, this has been a long ass day. In my office. Please.” He turned on his heel and strode past Antonio without giving him a look.

“Never seen him this rattled.” Stoker turned to face the rest of the group.

“He has good reason,” Boone said under his breath.

“Not like that. This isn’t just about Jimmy Martin being killed. Whatever is going on Tuesday at that meeting with the mayor is worrying him to death.” Riker kept his voice low.

“Shit day. Just a shit ass day,” Boone said as he paced.

“What the hell did the captain say to Antonio?” Landen asked as he darted a look over his shoulder.

Antonio walked their way and without saying a word, he walked out, slamming the main door.

“That good, huh?” Garcia asked as he looked back at the group.

“Ain’t my place to say a thing. Maybe I’m sorry we said a word to the captain in the first place. Never expected him to react this way.” Riker shook his head. “I’m going for a bottle of tequila. You guys wanna come?”

“I’m coming,” Boone offered. “I’m sure Sawyer is two or three ahead of us.”

“Can’t.” Garcia took backwards steps toward the captain’s office.

“That’s right. Big date.” Landen grinned. “Have to tell us all about it.”

“Over your dead ass body,” Garcia teased then nodded to Stoker. Maybe his head was going to be on a chopping block.

Stoker held his hand up to the side of his head, miming the ‘call me’ sign.

Garcia blew out a deep breath before walking into the captain’s office. “You wanted to see me.”

“Yeah, and this won’t take long.” The captain remained tense, sweat beading along his forehead. “Garcia, I know you think there is a connection to the recent fires with the one at the Wildroot Ranch.”

“Who the hell told you that?”

“Don’t get upset. With the various cases of extortion we’ve had over the last year, easy to believe we have another situation, but there is no connection.”

Garcia narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know that yet. There hasn’t been a full investigation on Wildroot.”

“True, but there are some extenuating circumstances with regards to Mr. Hatcher and his family. Now, I’m not privy to say anything cause its personal, but I assure you, there is no connection.” Captain Phillips offered a waning smile.

“In other words, you don’t want rumors spreading around right now.”

“I’m not going to lie to you. That’s part of my concern, but the situation with the Hatcher family is difficult enough.”

Garcia sniffed and took a step back. What about the bed and breakfast that burned?”

“Ruled accidental. Kitchen fire set by grease left in a hot pan.”

Nodding he glanced out the window at the dark night. “I get it. I’ll leave everything alone.”

“I’m sure Fire Investigator Nelson will make certain nothing criminal went on at Wildroot, but with all the oil they had stored on that property, I’m surprised there haven’t been issues before.”

“Fine. Maybe I’m just drawing at straws.”

“Happens in this line of work.” Captain Phillips walked closer. “Glad we have that settled. There’s something else too. I know everyone is concerned about my meeting with the mayor and the truth is, you all should be. I don’t think I’m going to like what she has to say so I need a favor.”

“Anything.”

“You’re one of the few level-headed smokejumpers I have. I need you to keep the others calm right now until I can figure out what’s going on. This team is becoming far too frazzled. I can’t have that. Your lives, as well as civilians are at stake. That jumper dying affected all of us, every single one. There needs to be an investigation of the parachutes, the other equipment and the procedures. However, if that happens, it puts us all under a microscope. If anyone finds out that the team was split today, that might just be the last black mark they need. I don’t know what Antonio was thinking. I just don’t know.”

“I’m not level headed. Not really.” Garcia was surprised. “What I do know is that Antonio reacted to the situation, not because he was pissed about whatever is going on or because of Jimmy Martin being killed. You don’t know Antonio very well. He takes this shit hard. We all do.”

“I understand, son. More than you know. Just do what you can. I need to be able to count on you.” When Garcia remained quiet, he gave an attempt at a smile. “I’m worried, Puevos. I’m not going to lie or sugarcoat anything here. At minimum, I think we’re going to be absorbed into the other team and if that’s the case, that might mean not everyone’s job will remain.”

“That would kill the team. They eat and sleep smokejumping.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” The captain dropped the file he was holding on top of his desk. The subtle thump made them both look down, their thoughts drifting to the various possibilities. “What’s really troubling you?”

“What do you mean?” Garcia managed.

“You’ve been distant in the past month, quiet and far too reflective.” He smiled then choked out a strangled laugh. “Maybe we all have.”

“I don’t know if I want to do this any longer.”

The words surprised the captain. He narrowed his eyes and gave Garcia a thoughtful look, yet his face was ashen, more troubled than any of the preceding months. “You’re good at what you do. Responsible and well liked. You’re a valuable team member. You have to know that.”

“I’m not certain of anything any longer.” From the moment he’d blurted out the words, he felt a sense of relief, a caustic knowing.

“Just take a few days for yourself. Certain decisions are life changing, a forever we can never get back.”

The words resonated in a manner Garcia hadn’t anticipated, but he knew he was doing the right thing. “I understand but I know what I’m doing. I’ll volunteer, sir.”

“Volunteer? For what, Puevos?”

Garcia thought about his life, the reason he’d become a firefighter then a smokejumper. His mind drifted to the smokejumper who’d saved his life on a hot day in Arizona. He’d never forget the man’s face or his bravery. He wasn’t that kind of man. “Captain Phillips, I’m offering my resignation from the team.”