Rowan considered the first round a knockout. Now that she felt a hundred percent human, and with Gull shaving off the scruff in her bathroom, she went out to dress.

She picked up the note someone must have shoved under her door in the last forty minutes.

FULL BRIEFING ALL CREW OPS THIRTEEN HUNDRED

"Oh, well. Round two's going to have to be postponed." She held the note up for Gull to read. "Maybe he has some answers."

"Or maybe he's just got a whole lot of questions. Either way, we'd better scramble if we're going to get any food before thirteen hundred." "Marg might know something."

"I'm thinking the same."

Since Marg liked him well enough, Gull went with Rowan to the kitchen.

Probably not the best timing, he realized as they walked into the heat and the rush. Marg, Lynn and the new cook-Sh.e.l.ley, he remembered- turned, hauled, chopped and scooped with a creative symmetry that made him think of a culinary Cirque du Soleil. "Hey." Lynn filled a tub with some sort of pasta medley. "Sh.e.l.ley, we need more rolls, and the chicken salad's getting low." "I'm all over it!"

"Bring the barbecue pan back when you come," Marg told Lynn while she swiped a cloth over her heat-flushed face. "They'll be ready for it by then. I know how they suck this stuff down.

"Briefing at one o'clock," she muttered, and wagged a spoon at Rowan. "Right in the middle of things, so they all storm this place before noon like Henry the Fifth stormed, wherever the h.e.l.l that was." "I could chop something," Rowan volunteered.

"Just stay clear. Once we get this second round of barbecue out to them, they'll hold awhile." "You were right." Lynn bustled back in with a near-empty pan. Together, she and Marg filled it. "This tops everything off but the dessert buffet. Sh.e.l.ley and I can get that."

"Good girl." Marg flipped out two plates, tossed the open rolls on them, dumped barbecue on the bottom, scooped the pasta medley beside it, added a serving of summer squash. Then pointed at Gull. "Get three beers and bring 'em out to my table. Take this." She shoved one of the plates at Rowan before grabbing up flatware setups.

She sailed outside and, after setting the plate and setups down, pressed her hands to her lower back. "G.o.d." "Sit down, Marg."

"I need to stretch this out some first. Go on and eat." "Aren't you going to?"

Marg just waved a hand in the negative. "That's what I'm after," she said, taking the beer Gull held out to her. "I've got the AC set to arctic blast, but by the time we're into the middle of the lunch shift, it's like Nairobi. Eat. And don't bolt it down." Gull lifted the sloppy sandwich, got in the first bite. Warm, tangy, with the pork melting into sauce and the combination melding into something like spiced bliss.

"Marg, what'll it take for you to come and live with me?" "A lot of s.e.x."

"I'm good for that," he said over another bite, pointing to Rowan for verification. "I'm good for that." "Everybody's got to be good for something,"

Rowan commented. "What's the word, Marg?"

"L.B.'s on a tear, that's for certain. You don't see that man get up a head of steam often. It's why he's good at the job. But he's been puffing it out the last couple days. He had every chute, every pack, every jumpsuit gone over. He'd have used microscopes on them if he could have. Every piece of equipment, every tool, every d.a.m.n thing. He's having the jeeps gone over, the Rolligons, the planes."

She took a long, slow sip of beer, set it aside, then surprised Gull by lowering smoothly into a yoga down dog. "G.o.d, that feels better. He called Quinniock out here." "He wants a police investigation?" Rowan asked.

"He's made up his mind Leo managed to do this. He may be right." She walked her feet up to a forward fold, hung there a moment, then straightened.

"Irene's leaving him. She's already packing up. The Brayners are taking the baby tomorrow, and I don't think she plans to be far behind. She's going to move into your daddy's place for a couple weeks, until she clears up her business."

"She's moving in with Dad?"

"No, into the house. He offered it to her. He'll be in Ella's." "Oh."

"Don't give me that WTF look. Talk to your father about it. Meanwhile, I hear they have Leo on suicide watch and he's clammed up tight. He wants to take a lie detector test. I think they're going to do that today or tomorrow.

"That's about it. I've got to get back."

Gull waited a moment, then scooped up some pasta. "All that, and I bet the only thing you're thinking is your father's going to be living with the hot redhead."

"Shut up. Besides, he's just doing a favor for Mrs. Brakeman." "Yeah, I bet it's a real sacrifice. You know what I'm thinking?" Deliberately she stared up at the sky. "I don't care."

"Yes, you do. I'm thinking, the way this is working out, I'll move in with you.

You're going to have the room, then I can be closer to Marg and get this barbecue on a regular basis."

"I don't think this is something to joke about."

"Babe, I never joke about barbecue." He licked some off his thumb. "I wonder how a Fun World would go over in Missoula." Rowan tried to squeeze out some stress by pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm losing my appet.i.te." "Too bad. Can I have the rest of your sandwich?"

The snort of laughter snuck up on her. "d.a.m.n it. Every time I should be annoyed with you, you manage to slide around it. And no." With a smirk, she stuffed the rest of her sandwich into her mouth.

"Just for that I'm going to get some pie. And I'm not bringing you any." "You don't have time." She tapped her watch. "Briefing."

"I'll take it to go."

He didn't get her any pie, but he did bring her a slab of chocolate cake. They ate dessert out of their palms on the way to Ops.

Jumpers poured out of the woodwork, heading in from the training field and track, striding out of the barracks, filing in from the loft. A grim-faced Cards, shoulders hunched, hands deep in his pockets, turned out of the ready room. Rowan nudged Gull's arm with her elbow and shifted direction to intersect.

"You look like somebody stole your last deck," she commented.

"Do you think I didn't do my job? Didn't pay attention to what I load?" "I know you did. You do."

"That equipment was inspected and checked. I've got the G.o.dd.a.m.n paperwork. I checked the G.o.dd.a.m.n manifest." "Are you taking heat on this?"

Rowan demanded.

"It's got to go up the chain, something like this, and when s.h.i.t goes up the chain, the hook drops on somebody. What're we supposed to do, check every valve, nozzle, cord and strap before we load it, when every d.a.m.n thing's been checked before it goes into rotation? Are we supposed to start everything up before we put it on the d.a.m.n plane?

"f.u.c.k it. Just f.u.c.k it. I don't know why I do this d.a.m.n job anyway." He stalked off, leaving Rowan looking after him with a handful of cake crumbs and smeared icing. "He shouldn't take a knock for this. This is n.o.body's fault except whoever messed up the equipment."

"He's right about the way things drop back down the chain. Even if they pin it on Brakeman, on anybody, Cards could take a hit."

"It's not right. L.B. will go to bat for him. It's bad enough, what we've been dealing with, without one of us getting dinged for it." She stared down at her chocolate-smeared hand. "h.e.l.l."

"Here." Gull dug a couple of wet naps out of his pocket. "Some problems have easy solutions."

"He's a d.a.m.n fine jumper." She swiped at the chocolate. "As good a spotter as they come. He can be annoying with the card games and tricks, but he puts a lot into this job. More than most of us."

Gull could have pointed out that putting more than most into it meant Cards had regular and easy access to all the equipment, and that as spotter he hadn't jumped the Alaska fire.

No point in it, he decided. Her attachment there ran deep. "He'll be all right."

They went into the building where people milled and muttered.

He saw Yangtree sitting, rubbing his knee, and Dobie leaning against a wall, eyes closed in a standing-up power nap. Libby played around with her iPhone while Gibbons sat with a hip hitched on a counter, his nose in a book.

Some drank coffee, some huddled in conversations, talking fire, sports, women-the three top categories-or speculating about the briefing to come.

Some zoned out, sitting on the floor, backs braced against the wall or a desk.

Every one of them had dropped weight since the start of the season, and plenty of them, like Yangtree, nursed aching knees. The smoke jumper's Achilles' heel. Strained shoulders, pulled hamstrings, burns, bruises. Some of the men had given up shaving, sporting beards in a variety of styles.

Every one of them understood true exhaustion, real hunger, intense fear. And every one of them would suit up if the siren called. Some would fight hurt, but they'd fight all the same.

He'd never known people so stubbornly resilient or so willing to put body, mind and life on the line, day after day. And more, to love it.

"L.B. hasn't started." Matt maneuvered in beside him. "I thought I'd be late."

"Not yet. I didn't expect to see you for a couple more days."

"I'm just in for this. L.B. wanted all of us, unless we caught a fire. What's the word?"

"As far as I know they're still inspecting. They found a few more pieces of equipment tampered with." "Son of a b.i.t.c.h."

"Did your parents get in all right?" Rowan asked him. "Yeah. They're over visiting with Shiloh. We're going to take her out for a couple hours later, so she gets used to being with us. She's already taken to my ma."

"How's Mrs. Brakeman doing?"

He lifted his shoulders, stared toward the Ops desk. "She's being real decent about it. It shows how much she loves the baby." He let out a little sigh. "She and my ma had a good cry together. L.B.'s getting ready to start."

"All right, settle down," L.B. called out. "I've got some things to say, so pay attention. Everybody knows about the equipment failures on the jumps in Alaska and Wyoming. I want to tell you all that we're continuing a full inspection, any equipment or gear not yet inspected and pa.s.sed doesn't go out. I called in a couple extra master riggers to help reinspect, clear, repack every chute on this base. I don't want anybody worrying about the safety of their gear."

He paused a moment.

"We've got a good system of checks on this base, and n.o.body cuts corners.

Everyone here knows it's not just important, it's f.u.c.king essential that every jumper have confidence the gear and equipment needed to jump and attack will be safe, meet the highest standards and be in good working order. That didn't happen on these jumps, and I take responsibility."

He hard-eyed the protests until they died off.

"I've been in touch with the Management Council so they're aware of what we're dealing with. The local police and the USFS are also aware and conducting their own investigations."

"They know d.a.m.n well Leo Brakeman did this," somebody shouted out and started everybody else up again. "He shouldn't have been able to." L.B. roared it over the rise of chatter, smashing it like a boot heel on an anthill. "He shouldn't have been able to get to us the way he did. The fact he's locked up is all fine and good, but we're going to be a lot more security-conscious around here. We're going to do spot checks, regular patrols. If I could suspend the tours, I would, but since that's not an option, two staff members will go with each group.

"Until the investigations and reviews are complete, and we know who and how, we're not taking any chances." He stopped again, took a breath. "And I'm recommending everybody toss a roll of duct tape into their PG bags." That got a laugh, succeeding in lowering the tension.

"I want you to know I've got your backs, on base, in the air and on a fire. I've posted a new jump list and a rotation of a.s.signments. If you don't like it, come see me in my office so I can kick your a.s.s. Anybody's got any questions, suggestions, public b.i.t.c.hing, now's the time."

"Can we get the feds to pay for the duct tape?" Dobie asked, and earned hoots and applause.

Gull sent his friend an appreciative look. The right att.i.tude, he thought. Keep it c.o.c.ky, keep it steady, maintain unity. Whether the sabotage had been an inside or outside job, unity equaled strength.

He had questions, but not the sort he wanted to ask here.

"I've got something I need to work on," he told Rowan over the cross talk.

"Catch up with you later."

He noted her disapproving frown, but slipped out and walked straight to his quarters. There, he booted up his laptop and got to work.

He shut down, pa.s.scoding his work when the siren sounded. He wasn't on the first or second loads, but he ran to the ready room to a.s.sist those who were. He loaded gear on speed racks, hefted already packed and strapped paracargo onto the electric cart.

He listened, and he observed.

With Rowan and Dobie, he watched the plane rise into the wide blue cup of the sky.

"It's good L.B. got that briefing in before the call." Rowan shaded her eyes from the sun with the flat of her hand. "The sky looks a little dicey to the east."

"Might be jumping ourselves before long."

Hearing the eagerness in his voice, Rowan angled her body toward Dobie.

"You've got jump fever. The best thing for you is to go sleep it off." "I got me an a.s.signment. I'm on PC," he said, using the shorthand for paracargo.

"Packing and strapping in the loadmaster's room. You, too, pal,"

he told Gull. "Swede pulled the loft."

"Yeah, I saw that, and that anybody on the Alaska jump could take a two-hour break first. But what the h.e.l.l." He leaned over, kissed Rowan. "We'll get back to our agenda later."

"Count on it."

"I don't see how it's right and fair you got a woman right on base," Dobie said as they walked toward the loadmaster's room together. "The rest of us have to hunt one up, if we're lucky and get a turn at a bar."

"Life's just full of not right and not fair. Otherwise I'd be stretched out on a white sand beach with that woman, drinking postcoital mai tais."

"Postcoital." Dobie snickered like a twelve-year-old. "You beat all, Gull. Beat all and back again."

SINCE HE DIDN'T FIND her in her quarters, Gull a.s.sumed he'd finished up his duties before her, and went back to his room to continue on his project.

He sat on the bed, left the door open in a casual, nothing-to-see-here mode.

People walked by now and then, but for the most part his section stayed quiet.

Since he'd left his window open as well, he caught snippets of conversation as people wandered outside. A small group not on the jump list made plans to go into town. Somebody muttered to himself about women as the shimmering afternoon light dimmed.

He took a moment to shift to look out, and saw Rowan had been right about the eastern sky. Clouds gathered now, sailing in like warships. A storm waiting to happen, he thought, toying with getting his run in before it did, then decided to wait for Rowan.