Page 32 of Igniting Her

Cassie did not praise her for following a basic command. That, too, felt correct.

Teak’s voice came over the channel. “Engine 12 Search, utilities controlled. Front and restroom clear. Continuing rear.”

“Engine 12 Attack, advance.”

Ellie and Jamie went in low. The smoke layer hung above their heads, warm rather than punishing. Emergency lights blinked through the haze. The rear dryer bank came into view as a line of steel circles, one pulsing orange behind cracked glass. Flame licked from the exhaust connection and disappeared into the metal chase above it.

“Mercado Command, Attack. Fire in dryer nine with extension into the exhaust duct. No extension to adjacent machines visible.”

“Copy. Engine 12 Search, confirm rear clear and check the exterior duct termination. Attack, isolate the involved unit and open the chase. Short application only.”

The instructions arrived in the same order Ellie’s mind had already placed them. Not because Cassie could read her. Because they were looking at the same fire and, somehow, had begun to see it together.

With the power and gas isolated, Jamie took the hook to the gypsum bulkhead above the dryers. Ellie opened the nozzle long enough to darken the fire behind the glass, shut down, and waited while Jamie pulled a narrow section of ceiling. Burning lint fell in a bright clump. Ellie caught it with another brief burst before it reached the tile.

“Rear clear,” Teak reported. “Heat at the exterior vent, no visible flame.”

Ellie swept the thermal camera along the chase. The highest reading sat three feet above the machine and began falling as Jamie exposed it. “Heat contained to the first section. We need the duct disconnected at the elbow.”

Cassie answered before the sentence had fully left the room. “Approved. Engine 12 Search will take the exterior connection. Attack, maintain the interior side.”

Jamie’s eyes creased behind her facepiece. Even without seeing her mouth, Ellie knew the expression.

They had the machine open, the smoldering lint removed, and the duct cold within eight minutes. Primary search was clear. No extension reached the roof or adjoining shop. Cassie called the fire under control and released the second-due engine from its water-supply assignment before the hydrant line was charged.

Back at Station 12, they restored the apparatus before the incident was allowed to become a story. Hose was drained and repacked. The thermal camera went back on charge. Masks were wiped down and the wet section of lint-caked ceiling hook was cleaned in the bay sink. Ellie handed it to Cassie for inspection. Cassie turned the shaft once, checked the head, and passed it to Jamie for the compartment.

“Clean work,” she said to both of them.

At the long-table debrief, Cassie moved through the call in order. Mo’s placement. The evacuation report. Utilities controlled before entry. The held line at the threshold. Coordinated interior and exterior access to the duct. She gave every decision its proper owner and did not give Ellie one ounce more attention than the work justified.

Ellie had never been so aroused by fairness in her life.

The rest of the shift settled around them. Teak argued that laundromat snacks should be deductible as protective equipment. Priya made her clean the medical refrigerator in punishment for the argument. Mo started dinner. Cassie returned to her office and closed the door halfway, leaving the apparatus bay visible through the interior window.

Ellie stood at the sink with her hands in warm water and watched Cassie bend over a report. The ice was back in place: neat hair, straight shoulders, face composed over the page. But Ellie knew how carefully that woman had dried her clothes. She knew the sound Cassie made when control stopped being abstract and became something Ellie had chosen to hand her. She knew Cassie watched every member of the crew closely enough to send them for water before they asked and trusted Ellie enough to hear her assessment before it was spoken.

She had wanted things before. A permanent bed at eight. A place at the academy at eighteen. The locked first seat on the engine, the clean rescue, the outcome everyone else said was impossible. Want had always been an engine: loud, useful, and pointed at the next thing she could earn.

This was different. She had never wanted anything the way she wanted the woman inside the ice. Cassie’s rules stood between them in a straight, defensible line. Rules, in Ellie’s experience, were just walls nobody had climbed yet.

10

CASSIE

Cassie sent the first message at 7:12 on Friday morning. Four o’clock. Not earlier.

Ellie answered at 7:13. Good morning, sunshine.

Cassie put the phone facedown on the kitchen counter. She made coffee, read the local incident summary, and went for a six-mile run along the harbor. When she returned, the message remained unanswered because Ellie had not asked her a question. This was how reasonable adults communicated.

At 9:06, the phone vibrated. Four is a hostile distance from now.

Cassie waited three minutes before replying. Eat breakfast.

Is that concern or operational planning?

Both. She received a photograph of a breakfast sandwich and did not respond.