Page 8 of Igniting Her

Ellie waited.

“Better,” Cassie said. “Jamie, you’re up.”

One word should not have felt like theft. Ellie stepped aside before her face could show that it had.

Teak took the ladder from her with open resentment. “I was going to put thirty-eight point four on my grave.”

“There’s still room underneath for beloved by many.”

“Not anymore.”

Ordinarily, breaking the record would have carried Ellie through the rest of the day. She had beaten people who doubted her often enough to make victory a familiar language. This one felt unfinished. Cassie had watched her correct every fault, offered one clipped word, and moved on. Ellie had wanted more from her. The realization was worse than the criticism was.

At eleven, Cassie gathered the crew at the long table for the Pier Four review.

She had already covered the immediate failures: Ellie advancing beyond her assignment, the gap between Attack and Search, the delay in her radio acknowledgment. This review should have dealt with the incident as a whole: Water supply, ventilation, HazMat, the protected solvent room. Ellie told herself that she could sit through it without reopening anything.

Then Cassie drew the building on the whiteboard and marked the ten-foot hold position in blue. “Our first tactical priority was life safety,” she said. “The security guard reported no occupants, but we had not completed a primary search. Our second was confinement. Exposure protection on the east side kept the fire from extending into the yard while Attack held here.”

Held here. Ellie’s chair creaked beneath her. Mo, seated beside her, looked down at the incident map with the concentration of a man attempting to become invisible. Cassie continued. “Once Search confirmed the overhead space and closed the distance, Attack advanced. That sequence cost us under ninety seconds and kept the company together.”

“It also gave the fire ninety seconds toward the solvent room,” Ellie said.

The quiet was immediate. Teak’s pen stopped halfway through a word. Jamie lowered her coffee without drinking. Even the refrigerator seemed to reconsider its hum.

Cassie capped the marker. “Do you have a question, Ridge?”

Ellie had meant to simply pose a question. She really had. Unfortunately, Cassie’s voice could turn a question into a dare without changing volume at all.

“I have a tactical disagreement.”

Mo closed his eyes.

Cassie set the marker on the tray. “Go ahead.”

That calm permission made retreat impossible. Ellie leaned forward. “We had a charged line, protected egress, and visible fire movement toward a known chemical load. The rated storage door bought time, but not much if the fire took the wall or overhead. An immediate push from the doorway could have cut it off before the windows failed.”

“Based on what information?”

“Conditions at the entry.”

“Which were?”

“High heat, rollover moving east, smoke under pressure,” Ellie answered confidently.

“And the roof construction,” Cassie asked.

“Lightweight steel.”

“Status at the time you advanced?”

Ellie knew where this was going and disliked that Cassie was making her walk there herself. “Not yet confirmed.”

“Water supply?”

“Established.”

“Backup company?”