I exhale slowly and stare ahead at the smoke thinning over the hills. My pulse is still racing, my hands tight on the stick. Flying is in my blood. But diplomacy?
Not exactly my airspace.
I swing the bird around again, one last drop to seal the edge. The flames break apart beneath me like they’re giving up.
It’s a win. Everyone’s safe. No injuries. Fire contained.
But now I’ve got to go kiss babies and apologize for doing my damn job. Smooth.
I wonder if the blonde likes coffee.
Or sarcasm.
Because I have a lot of both.
***
Back at the station, I bring the bird down smoothly, like always. Rotors kick up dust in the clearing as I set her down on the helipad. The moment the blades slow, I spot Danny standing off to the side, grinning like a damn idiot.
He’s not alone.
Three people in polo shirts with camera rigs and press badges hover behind him, one of them already prepping a mic like I’m about to give a State of the Union.
“What the hell is this?” I shout over the rotor’s dying noise.
Danny strolls up like he’s got all the time in the world, pulling off his cap and fanning himself. “Welcome home, Maverick. You’re trending.”
I climb out of the cockpit and slam the door shut behind me. “Is it that serious?”
“Oh yeah. You’ve gone viral, bro. The ‘Hotshot Who Rained On A Parade.’ Hashtag’s already got legs.”
I eye the camera crew with growing irritation. One of them lifts a mic toward me. “Mr. Pearson, can you give us a quick—?”
“Nope,” I cut in, holding up a hand.
Danny smirks, arms crossed. “Chief wasn’t joking about you giving a public apology. Broadcast, on record, make it look like a valve issue, not a testosterone-fueled dive bomb.”
I stare at him. “You’re kidding.”
He just nods toward the crew. “Afraid not. His words were, and I quote, ‘Make the man say sorry before someone tries to sue our asses off.’”
I run a hand through my hair and sigh. I don’t do camera work. I do fire lines and rescue runs. Still, I’m not looking to start trouble, just finish the day.
I step in front of the mic.
“My name is Jake Pearson,” I say, keeping my voice stiff and curt. “The water drop earlier today was meant for the fire line. Due to equipment misfire and wind shift, some of that payload hit parked vehicles. No one was injured. That’s the important part. I apologize for any inconvenience.”
I take a step back. “Are we done here?”
The reporter blinks. “Uh…that’s it?”
“That’s it.” I shoot a look at Danny. “You said public apology. There it is. Let me know when the award nominations come out.”
I start to walk toward the locker bay, peeling off my gloves and ready for a cold drink. I’m halfway to the door when Danny jogs up beside me.
“Not done yet, man.”
I stop, shooting him another glare. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
