Chapter 16 Chimney Rock #2
The radio crackles with urgent voices—Rodriguez calling up to Williams, Burke reporting that the canyon floor is heating rapidly, Martinez coordinating the evacuation of personnel who haven't yet entered the chimney.
"Still stuck. Rodriguez got her pack cut free, but the loose rock is shifting. If it comes down..."
I imagine Rodriguez positioned just below Williams, trying to help stabilize the rockfall while she works to clear the passage, ten people waiting below as fire fills their refuge.
"Base Command, this is Alpha Leader." Mac's voice cuts through the chaos. "Fire's entered the canyon. Ground level becoming untenable."
I grab the radio, my mind racing through alternatives that don't exist. "Alpha Leader, status on Williams?"
Then Williams' voice cuts through, exhausted but triumphant: "Got it! I cleared the blockage!" A pause, then her voice drops with grim realization. "But Captain... the opening I made is only about eighteen inches wide. I can barely squeeze through myself."
"Shit." Mac's voice carries the weight of understanding. "How many of us can fit through that gap?"
"Maybe Parker, Flint, Burke if he sucks it in real good. But you, Rodriguez, Martinez, Nguyen—no way in hell. You're all too broad in the shoulders."
Static fills the radio as Mac processes this. Then his voice, calm and tactical. "Alright, here's what we're going to do. Rodriguez, climb back down. Williams, you continue up. Parker, Flint, Burke—you four get through that gap and climb to the top. The chimney opens up past the blockage, right?"
"Affirmative," I say. "Wide enough for normal climbing once you're past the squeeze."
"Good. Reach the summit and secure anchors. Drop belay lines down the exterior face of this formation. Rodriguez, Martinez, Nguyen, and I will climb the outside."
"Captain, that's suicide," Parker’s voice cuts through. "The exterior's fully exposed to the heat—"
"It's our only option. We've got maybe five minutes before this canyon floor becomes uninhabitable." Mac's voice hardens with command authority. "Parker, you're in charge of the top team. Get those anchors set."
Relief and terror war in my chest as the radio erupts with coordinated activity. Williams squeezing through the narrow gap. Parker following, her gear scraping against rock. Flint barely making it through. Burke cursing as he forces his larger frame past the blockage.
"Top team at the summit." Parker's voice reports. "Setting anchors for exterior belay."
Long minutes pass while I track their progress. Parker's team rigging solid anchors while Mac, Rodriguez, Martinez, and Nguyen prepare for the most dangerous climb of their lives—up the exterior face with fire licking at the rock below them.
"Two belay lines secured and deployed down the exterior face." Parker reports. "Beginning dual evacuation."
Two by two, the larger firefighters are hauled up the outside of the chimney formation—Rodriguez and Martinez on the first pull, their bodies silhouetted against the flames below. Then Nguyen paired with gear, leaving Mac alone on the superheated canyon floor.
"Alpha Leader, you're last up?"
"Affirmative. Exterior face fully engaged now. Heat extreme."
I track his ascent in my mind—sixty feet of vertical climbing up the exterior rock face, hauled by belay lines while superheated air and flames surround him like the breath of a dragon.
"Alpha Leader, halfway point."
Static.
"Alpha Leader, status?"
More static, then his voice, labored: "Exterior surface too hot. Can't maintain grip much longer."
My heart stops. The granite is absorbing heat from the fire below, turning the chimney into a vertical oven.
"Can you continue?"
"Have to." His breathing is labored, desperate. "No choice."
Long seconds pass. I imagine him pressed against burning stone, fingertips seeking purchase on rock hot enough to sear flesh, sixty feet of vertical hell between him and safety.
Finally: "Alpha Leader clear. All personnel accounted for and clear of immediate danger. We're at the lake—forty feet below us, crystal clear water. Beginning rappel operations now."
The relief nearly buckles my knees. I grip the edge of the table, breathing for what feels like the first time in an hour.
Scout seems to sense the shift in my emotional state before I fully process Mac's words. Her tail gives a tentative wag—the first sign of optimism she's shown all evening. She moves to my side as my knees threaten to give out, her solid body providing support as relief crashes through me.
When I reach down to pat her head with trembling fingers, she leans into the touch, sharing both my fear and my relief. Her brown eyes hold the same exhausted gratitude I feel—our pack leader is coming home.
"Roger that, Alpha Leader. Once you're across the lake, you'll be clear of the thermal column and in the green zone for evacuation. Status on injuries?"
"Minor burns and smoke inhalation. Nothing that won't heal." A pause, then his voice drops lower, intimate despite the open channel. "Outstanding work, Base Command. You just saved twelve lives with that route."
"Just bringing you home, Sir."
"On our way to you now."
As the radio goes quiet, I become aware of the silence around me. Every person in the command center is staring at me with expressions ranging from amazement to respect.
Sheriff Donovan breaks the silence first. "That was extraordinary."
I sink into a chair, the adrenaline finally catching up with me. My hands tremble as I roll up the map that just saved the man I love and eleven of his teammates.
But even as relief floods through me, this isn't over. Mac's team may be past this threat, but the main blaze still burns. Angel's Peak still faces destruction.
And somewhere in those flames, an arsonist watches his engineered disaster unfold, probably congratulating himself on a plan that's working exactly as intended.
The radio crackles one more time. Mac's voice, quiet but carrying clearly: "Josephine."
I grab the radio instantly. "Yes?"
"When I get back..." His voice drops to that dangerous whisper that makes my skin tighten with anticipation. "We're going to have a very thorough conversation about exactly what happens when you save my life."
Heat pools low in my belly despite everything. "Is that a threat or a promise?"
"Both." The single word carries weight that has nothing to do with fire suppression and everything to do with the way he's going to take me apart when this is over. "Now get back to saving our town. I have work to finish."
The radio goes quiet, leaving me staring at it while my pulse hammers against my throat. Around me, the command center returns to its controlled chaos, but I remain frozen by the promise in his voice.
Scout tilts her head at the sudden change in my scent—the shift from fear to something warmer, more anticipatory. She's learned to read the subtle changes that indicate when Mac and I are focused on each other rather than the crisis at hand.
Her tail thumps once against the floor, and I swear there's amusement in her brown eyes. Even she knows what's coming when this fire is finally out.
When this fire is out, when Angel's Peak is safe, when the adrenaline fades and we're alone, he's going to remind me exactly who I belong to.
But first, we have a town to save.