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Connections
A Long Day
First operation in three years.
Matt had been on the warehouse fire since Anderson called him in. He pulled permits, loaded the utility and infrastructure overlays. Cross-referenced the parcel data. Ran it again.
Dispatch confirmed the second alarm.
“Hartfield, you’re up.” Anderson turned to the room. “Watch and learn.”
“Activate EOC Level 1,” Matt announced.
“Copy.” Stations went active.
“Central to Command.” He keyed in on Command 3. “Confirm division assignments.”
“Copy, Central. Defensive Alpha through Charlie. Limited interior on Delta for attack.”
“Copy. Confirm water supply.”
“Five lines established. Pressure holding.”
The status board updated as each report came in.
“Division Delta to Command. Gas secured. Resuming interior.”
Matt checked the utility overlay. Second feed was still pressurized.
“Central to Command. Negative on Delta interior. Cross-parcel gas feed active on Delta exposure. Recommend withdrawal until gas isolation confirmed.”
“Command copies. Delta, withdraw interior and confirm gas isolation with utility on site.”
Three minutes later, the feed dropped off. He cleared the flag.
“He’s not even on the watch rotation,” Maya whispered.
“And Nolan’s fine with that?” Eric said.
“Apparently.”
Chris caught up late. “So every time there’s an activation, Anderson can just—”
“Give him the floor. Yes.”
“Central to Command. Permit flag on Bravo mezzanine. Acetone storage on site.” Hartfield went on.
“Command copies. All divisions, hazmat ventilation protocols.”
Chris was still logging the previous advisory.
The fire was holding. Defensive streams on Bravo and Delta, no new requests from the field. Matt rolled his shoulders. He could keep up with this pace.
“Command to Central. Begin resource verification for relief rotation.”
“Copy, Command. Initiating relief check.” Matt pulled the roster and switched to Tac 3. “Central to Ladder 31. Crew status for relief.”
“Ladder 31, three bottles remaining. Full crew on line.”
“Copy, Ladder 31. You’ve been on since first alarm. Flagged for rotation. Central to Engine 36. Crew status for relief.”
“Engine 36, two bottles remaining. Requesting rehab rotation. And Central—is that Captain Hartfield I’m hearing?”
His thumb stayed on the transmit key.
“Copy, Engine 36. Flagged for rotation.”
“Good to hear your voice, Captain. Welcome back.”
“Ladder 31 again—damn, it is you. Should’ve known.”
“Copy. Central to Ladder 33. Crew status for relief.”
“Ladder 33, one bottle out. Good to go for another cycle.” The voice warmed. “Missed you around the house, Cap.”
“Copy, Ladder 33. Central to Engine 34. Crew status for relief.”
“Engine 34, three bottles remaining. Holding on Bravo. It’s been a while, Captain.”
The relief check went on. So did the Captain Hartfields.
Matt had been briefing his relief for the last twenty minutes. His shoulders were tight and his focus was starting to thin. Two hours. About what he had.
“Command to Central. Fire under control. All companies accounted for.”
“Copy, Command. Central transferring to relief. Signing off.”
“And Hartfield? Good call on the gas feed. Saved us a mess on Delta. Welcome back.”
Not Command, too.
He needed a break. The paperwork could wait.
Ben heard the door open. Keys hit the dish. Wheels on hardwood.
“Captain Hartfield, back on the radio.”
“Shut up, Ralston.” Matt pulled his tie loose.
“Come on. Beer?”
“Can’t. Apparently I don’t work without medication anymore.”
“Good thing I have options.”
“You mean Josh has options.”
Ben went to the fridge and came back with two root beers. He handed one over and sat down.
“You should hear how they’re telling it.”
“I was there. I know how they’re telling it.”
“They meant it.”
“I know they meant it. That’s what makes it worse.”
“They just miss you, Matt.”
“I’m not who they think they’re talking to, Ben. Not anymore.”
Matt was wrong about that. But this wasn’t the time.
“I hear Nolan’s thrilled with the arrangement.”
“Nolan’s professional about it.”
“And you ran his EOC today. Don’t tell me you didn’t like that.”
“…Yeah. I did.”
The guest room door opened. Matt came out in the sweatpants and t-shirt he’d left here. Both hung wrong.
“No good?”
“Couldn’t get comfortable. Couch is better anyway.”
Ben got up from Matt’s spot, pushed the table out of the way, and put a throw pillow down. Matt wheeled in, transferred over, and worked himself flat. Ben dropped a blanket over his legs and moved to the other end.
“You should go to bed,” Matt said.
“I’m good.”
Matt closed his eyes. Shifted. Pulled the blanket up, pushed it back down. Turned his head toward the back of the couch, then turned it away.
“How bad is it?” Ben asked.
“What?”
“You, right now. How bad?”
“I’m fine. Just too much noise in my head.”
Ben knew what he meant.
“Want me to put Die Hard on?”
“…Yippie ki yay.”
The dead guy in the Santa hat was riding the elevator down. Matt hadn’t moved in ten minutes.
Ben reached for his phone.
gave him bruce and melatonin. he’s out on my couch now
He’s going to regret that. How was he?
overthinking as usual
So, Matt.
yeah
Don’t let him sleep past 9.
aye aye coach
Josh let himself in with muffins and a tray of coffees—one extra for Matt. Ben met him at the door, kissed him, and took the bag.
“Blueberry?”
“No. Never again. Lemon poppy seed.”
“Come on, it’s been a year.”
“It was a lifetime worth of berries.”
Matt was lying still on the couch. One arm over the edge, blanket bunched around his waist.
“He okay?” Josh lowered his voice.
“Yeah. Don’t worry about noise. He’s not waking up on his own.”
Josh had never seen him asleep before. It was like walking into a room that was supposed to be locked.
They talked about nothing. The Sailors game. How much more Josh needed for the convertible that Ben called “optimistic.” Whether Tonya was actually going to solo that route she’d been talking about.
“You want to do something Sunday?”
“Sure—” Ben checked his watch. “Hold on. I need to wake him up.”
“Why? Let the guy sleep.”
“Can’t. He’s only got one kidney. If he doesn’t hydrate on schedule the rest of his day goes sideways.”
“That sucks.” No wonder Matt was always drinking water.
“Yeah. Calls himself a houseplant sometimes.”
Ben put his coffee down and walked over.
“Matt.” Normal volume. Then again. “Matt. Wake up.”
A groan.
Matt Hartfield, groaning.
Josh filed that under “rare footage.”
“Hey, tough guy.” Ben patted his shoulder. “Miller time.”
Under the blanket, Matt’s legs twitched a few seconds, then settled. He mumbled something. Ben said something back. Too low for Josh to make out. Ben helped him up and back against the cushions, then straightened the blanket over his legs.
Matt blinked at the room. Ben filled a water bottle at the sink.
His eyes found Josh.
“Oh.” Rough. Barely awake. “Hey.”
“Morning,” Josh said.
Ben sat down next to him and put the bottle in his hands.
“Take your time, man.”
Matt stared at it for a moment, then drank.
“There’s muffins,” Josh said.
“Huh?”
Josh handed the bag to Ben. Ben pulled one out and unwrapped it for Matt.
“You’re welcome.”
Matt took a small bite. Slowly. Kind of adorable, actually. He was going to remember this.
“So what about Sunday?” Josh said.
“Still thinking,” Ben said.
“There’s that place Danny was talking about.”
“Which one?”
“The one with the patio.”
Matt drank more water. His eyes were more focused now. He pressed a hand into his lower back. That couch couldn’t have been good for him.
“We could do brunch,” Ben said.
“You hate brunch.”
“I hate waiting for brunch. If there’s no line I’m fine.”
“My knee brace is in the guest room,” Matt said. “On the bed, I think.”
Josh was already up. He found it where he said it would be, brought it back, and put it on the couch next to him.
“Thanks, kid.”
“Yeah.”
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