Radclyffe - Firestorm

“Ready, Emilio?”

“All set.” Emilio gestured to the group of rookies gathered around one of the forty-foot-long tables in the center of the room where a chute was laid out ready to be prepared. “You want me to do the demo first?”

“Yes. Then while I take half over the obstacle course, you can have the rest for rigging practice.”

“Sure thing, Ice.”

Mallory walked around to the far side of the table and pointed to the chute. “After today, the only person who should ever touch your jump pack is you or Emilio. I shouldn’t have to tell you that you can never check your chute enough times. During boot camp, you’ll clear the chute with Emilio before every jump.”

She stopped, judging their reactions. This was the point when rookies sometimes came to the realization that jumping out of an airplane with nothing but a bit of flimsy-looking nylon to break their fall was a lot less glamorous and a lot more daunting than they’d been willing to admit. No one spoke. “How many of you have ever jumped?”

Hooker was the only one of the six rookies to raise his hand.

“Where?”

“Skydiving,” he said.

Mallory nodded. “You’ll discover pretty quickly that we jump differently. Our landing zones are much smaller, our chutes are designed to float differently, the draft on your body when you’re fully loaded will be different, your landing will be different.” She smiled at him. “What I’m saying is, you’re going to have to unlearn what you know.”

He grunted and shrugged. Mallory held his gaze for a few seconds, then swept the rest of the group. “Those of you who have never jumped are not at a disadvantage. In fact, we generally prefer that you have no experience. No bad habits to unlearn.”

A couple of the guys laughed.

“Every day for the next week will break down like this—morning run and classroom work before lunch. After, you’ll run the obstacle course—standard setup. Rope climbing, clearing obstacles, climbing barricades. At the end of the course, you’ll be climbing the jump tower for a series of simulated drops.” Mallory checked her watch. Right on time. “Fit in your gym workouts when you can. Minimum requirement is forty-five sit-ups, twenty-five push-ups, and seven pull-ups. Questions?”

“How high is the tower?” asked Stan Rubin, one of the few professional firefighters among the rookies.

“Fifty feet. The cable lift is a hundred at its highest point.”

“That’ll produce a little speed on the way down,” Anderson remarked.

“Because you’ll be on a pulley rather than using a chute, you’ll feel the landing impact much as you would when dropping from the aircraft,” Mallory said. “I’ll take Rubin and Russo on the course first. The rest of you stay here so Emilio can get you acquainted with your jump gear. Your partner assignments for the jump simulations are on the wall by the door.”

Mallory took stock of the rookies. Anderson, as usual, appeared thoughtful. Rubin stoic. Jac was intense and focused. Hooker rolled back on his heels, bored. Mallory tried not to let her gaze linger on Jac’s face, but it was hard. Hard not to look at her, even harder not to want to.

*

“Ready for this?” Sarah asked as she and Jac got into line at the foot of the jump tower.

Jac looked up to the top of the platform fifty feet above her head. It didn’t really look all that high off the ground. “Ought to be a piece of cake after the obstacle course.”

“It’s a bear, isn’t it?”

Jac stretched her shoulders. “Forty-five feet of rope never looked so long in my life.”

“Did Mallory offer to let you out of the rest of the course if you could beat her time up?”

Jac regarded the blisters on her palms. She could still feel the burn of the braided hemp rubbing on her wrists above her gloves. Mallory had gone up the rope like a monkey. Her legs had entwined with the rope as naturally as if it were a lover. The muscles in her arms and shoulders and back contracted and relaxed in the steady unbroken rhythm that propelled her to the top as effortlessly as if she were walking down the street. She would have been beautiful under any circumstances. Considering how Jac had been thinking about all that muscle moving over her, or under her, she’d been glorious. Jac swallowed hard, her throat so dry it stung. “I’m not dumb enough to bet against her. But Rubin was.”

“After he saw her climb?” Sarah laughed. “How bad did he lose?”

“I think the performance anxiety really got to him. He almost fell off.”

“What do you want to wager a few more give it a try next round?”

“Doesn’t she ever get tired?”

“Not that I’ve ever noticed,” Sarah said softly, glancing up to where Mallory was just a dark slash against the fading afternoon sun.

Sarah’s face softened as she watched Mallory move around above them, and Jac wondered if she was reliving some intimate personal moment. She wanted to ask but didn’t know how. It wasn’t any of her business what their relationship was. She’d just have to go slowly crazy trying not to speculate. “What about you? You ever beat her time?”

“Not on the rope,” Sarah said. “But I’m a mighty fine tree climber, if I do say so myself. I’ve never actually raced her up a pine, but I think I’d have a good shot.”

“I think I’d much rather climb a tree than a rope.”

“It’s awesome. One of the reasons I can’t wait to get back here every year.”

“What do you do in the off-season?”

Sarah smiled. “Spoken like a true smokejumper. Most people consider this the off-season and the rest of the year their real jobs.”

“What about you?”

“I guess I’d have to say this is what I really care about,” Sarah said pensively. “The rest of the year I teach riding and train horses at a ranch in New Mexico.”

“Sounds pretty interesting.”

“It is. But out here”—Sarah shrugged and swept her arm toward the mountains—“when I finish working a fire, I know I’ve done something worthwhile. Made a difference. No question in my mind.”

“And had fun doing it.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Sarah shot her a grin.

Mallory’s voice came over the radio. “Five-minute warning.”

“Okay,” Sarah said briskly. “Give me a run-through of the drop sequence.”

Jac repeated what Mallory had reviewed after they’d completed the obstacle course. “Jump, check the canopy, check the airspace, check the three rings, grab the toggles, disconnect the stevens, steer.”

“You listen good, rookie.”

Jac laughed. “I’d rather not fall on my ass first time out. I haven’t exactly had a great start.”

“Sounds like you did just fine,” Sarah said.

“All the same, I can do without any more attention,” Jac said. Especially not Mallory’s. And especially not for something she’d screwed up.

“You’re not actually jumping today, so you don’t have to worry about the landing. Just the same, run the jump sequence in your head every time.” Sarah looked Jac over. “You look good to go. The more times you do this, the easier it’s going to be going out the plane.”

The radio crackled again, and Mallory said, “Team one, climb up. Team two, on the approach.”

Jac looked at Sarah. “Here we go.”

Sarah grinned. “Remember to tuck your chin.”

Up on the platform, Mallory gave them a perfunctory nod, then checked everything Jac was wearing—her boots, her pants, her jump jacket, the parachute pack on her back, the reserve chute across her chest, her personal gear bag underneath. Jac was loaded exactly the way she would be if she were ready to climb onto the plane for a fire call. Then Mallory tugged on the harness that crisscrossed her body and ran between her legs.