Chapter 28
Jason loved his job as a retardant operator at the Air Attack Base.
With training, he became more fluid in his movements working in the retardant pit.
He was responsible for mixing the retardant and working the pump.
His muscles became more defined, and his confidence grew.
The times of action, when a large wildfire was being fought, alternated with periods of waiting for the next alert.
He stayed busy during the down times washing the sticky pink residue from the planes’ bellies or doing yard work around the base.
The only downside to the job was a newly hired seasonal firefighter, Shane, who had bullied him at school.
He was the captain of the football team and always had a group of buddies who had it out for Jason.
They talked smack and threw him in the garbage can on numerous occasions.
The bullying had gone on and on all year.
When he first spotted Shane strutting around like a rooster in his CalFire uniform, Jason’s heart sank.
This guy had it out for him. He knew this would be his nemesis, but he was determined not to let a glimmer of response show.
This job meant everything to him and his future with Tina.
He had a secret hope that if he demonstrated his worth, CalFire might consider him for a full-time position after graduation next year.
That thought and prayer was worth more than anything this dude could do or say to him. Sticks and stones. Sticks and stones.
Shane was constantly trying to make Jason look bad, but he was smart enough to do it out of the eyes of the boss.
Relentless petty things, like moving Jason’s gear and delaying his response time for an incident, to tossing his lunch in the trash.
Jason kept his head down and ignored him, only addressing him if absolutely necessary.
It was a long, hot afternoon, and Shane’s pals had come out to the base to bring lunch and check out the action.
Shane loved to act like the top dog in front of his friends and often arranged for them to bring him lunch or come by on some other errand.
Anything to prance around and act all official.
Usually, Jason was able to busy himself at some other point of the base from them.
A large fire in Foresthill, northeast of Sacramento, was blowing and going.
Hundreds of homes, properties, and lives were at stake.
The tankers were buzzing in and out of the base.
It was a critical situation; one they had trained for all summer long.
Tensions were high as they worked to keep the base operating smoothly and at full capacity.
This was a thick, hot fire in the Sierra Mountains, heavily wooded, with many areas not accessible by road.
The large grayish brown header was becoming more prominent as the winds picked up.
Jason was sweating in the retardant pit, mixing the retardant to maintain a continual supply, while also moving the slurry from the 25,000 gallon holding tanks through the pipes to the aircraft loading pits.
He needed to be situationally aware, ready to turn the pump on and off when the loaders gave the order.
Then Shane spotted him and sauntered his way. Jason recognized some of the other guys as Shane’s core group of friends from school. He steeled himself and kept his focus on his job, alert to the directions of the loader. They corralled him at the holding tank.
Shane spoke out first. “Hey loser. Looks like they gave you the right job. Cause you’re slow, aren’t you? One fry short of a Happy Meal.”
Loud guffaws followed his taunts. Jason ignored their heckling and concentrated on his job. The timing of the pumps was critical. They stepped in front of him, blocking his path. He tried to step around, but they kept hedging in front of him.
“What’s the matter, loser? Can’t handle your pity job?”
The loader whistled shrilly. “Hey, Jason. Pay attention, man. We need to load.”
“Get out of my way.” Jason snarled as he turned on the pump.
Shane gave him a push, knocking him off his feet. Another loud whistle from the loader erupted, followed by a shout. “Turn off the pumps!”
Jason jumped to his feet, quickly shutting off the pumps, but not before about twenty gallons of pink retardant had spilled out of the hose onto the runway.
The loader came running down the flight of stairs from the tarmac, swearing up a storm. “What is going on, Jason? Pay attention.”
“Yeah loser. Pay attention.” Shane made a mocking face behind the loader’s back.
“For the last time, get out of my way!”
“Or what? What Cha gonna do? Are you going to cry to your girlfriend?”
Jason’s face flushed. “You keep her out of this.”
“Oh, I’d be happy to keep her—away from you. She’s a nice piece… and way too good for you.”
Jason struggled to keep his emotions in check as the loader signaled again to turn on the pump. He turned the wheel, releasing the flow of retardant while Shane again blocked his way.
“I’m going to report you.”
Shane turned to his friends and theatrically covered his mouth.
“Oh, I’m scared. The orphan is going to report me.
He thinks he’s the chief’s pet—even after he almost killed him.
Why’d you hit and run, loser? Were you scared?
Scared your psycho daddy would beat you, or your mom would leave you? Oh, I guess she already did that.”
Jason reached to turn the pump off at the loader's order, but Shane again blocked his pathway. Jason shouldered him out of the way and grabbed the wheel. Shane body slammed him again, knocking him to the ground.
“Don’t you ever touch me, loser. I’ll smash you into nothing… and take your girl.”
The loader yelled again as more retardant spewed out of the hose at the loading dock. “Shut it off!”
Feet pounded toward the holding tank just as Shane took aim with his steel-toed boot and stomped Jason hard in the stomach, back, and sides while he was still on the ground.
“Hey! What’s going on?” Dan Tucker, the airbase engineer, reached over and slammed his meaty palm against the push switch, turning off the huge pumps. He glanced down at Jason for a second, then turned to face Shane, whose friends had vanished like ghosts.
“You’re fired. And I’m calling the police. I can’t believe what I just saw on the monitor in the dispatch office!”
“But I didn’t do anything.” Shane blubbered. “It’s the foster kid… I mean it’s his fault. He wasn’t doing his job.”
“Do you see these cameras?” Dan pointed to two separate black boxes with flashing red lights.
“You’ve been recorded, and I saw you on the monitor interfering with him doing his job.
” The engineer directed Shane to leave the pit and sit outside the base ready room.
Then he turned to Jason and assessed his injuries.
“I’ll be okay, sir.” He placed his hand on the ground in a failed attempt to sit up.
“Just stay still, Jason. You need to get checked out.” Dan pulled out his portable radio and contacted dispatch.
“Dispatch, contact the Unit Command Center. Request an ambulance and the sheriff to the air base for an altercation with injuries. Also have them advise the Unit Duty Officer.”
“Dispatch copies.”
Noah was the Air Tactical Officer on the Foresthill fire and was just landing at the Air Base after being relieved by another Air Tactical.
A puzzled expression crossed his face as he heard the Command Net traffic.
Altercation? Injuries? Sheriff? Four and a half hours of intense air traffic control and firefighting operations only to be thrust into another incident back at base.
When the propellers stopped turning, Noah opened the aircraft canopy door and slithered out, his flight suit drenched in sweat.
He was met by Dan, who promptly briefed him on what had transpired and the evidence he had.
Noah fumed but maintained his professional demeanor as he and the engineer headed to the retardant pit.
Another firefighter had grabbed the first aid kit and was rendering aid to Jason.
Noah kneeled down beside Jason, choking back emotion as he saw the wrenching pain he was in and the trail of tears on his dirty face.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you.” His voice broke.
“It wasn’t my fault, Chief. I tried my best to ignore him and do my job.”
Dan piped up. “Chief, he was doing his job. He was being harassed by Shane and his friends.”
Noah bit his lip as he fought the internal rage flooding his body. “I know you did, Jason. It’s all documented. Justice will be served.” He stood as the ambulance arrived and the paramedics came over with their equipment.
The sheriff pulled in behind them, blue lights flashing. Noah directed Dan to give a quick briefing as they prepared Jason for transport. Noah flagged the sheriff to the Base Ready Room, where Shane paced, wringing his hands.
“Chief. It wasn’t my fault,” he pleaded. “You’ve got to believe me. He egged me on! He’s been after me all year at school.”
“Sit down. Now!” Noah’s eyes shot fiery darts of fury. He clenched his hands to hold himself back from striking out.
The sheriff stood, feet spread, hand on his holster.
Noah spat out his words like bullets from a machine gun. “Your unprofessional and immature actions risked property and life by willfully interfering with aerial firefighting operations.”
“But…but. I…”
Noah continued rapid fire. “You also committed assault and battery. I’m having you arrested. Your future as a firefighter is over.”
As Shane continued to profess innocence, Noah turned to the Sheriff. “We have video documentation of the incident and will have written witness statements to you shortly.” Noah spoke in a steely, commanding voice.
Shane was read his Miranda rights and placed under arrest. He blubbered like a baby as he was cuffed and placed into the patrol car.
Shane called out one last threat as the door was closed. “You’re going to regret this. My family knows people.”
The sheriff and Noah exchanged a look.
Noah shook his head. “Nobody he or his family knows could get him out of this. It’s black and white.”