Wildfire at Dawn Read Online Free PDF

time,” that would be he and Tim as jump buddies, taking the risk and then preparing the area. “Then drop two, then three. The landing is small and pretty cluttered with alder saplings in the ten- to fifteen-foot range. Winds standard for a ridgeline, in other words a normal level of messy, out of the west at fifteen, probably twenty-five miles an hour close to the ground. So, Tim and I will punch a hole. Everyone else get in and clear the drop site to make space for the next team to hit it.” Then he thought about Henderson and his teambuilding.
    “No idea where the second jumper load is gonna drop in. The nearest decent zone is a mile down the hill. Anyone want to take a bet that’s where those slugs come in? At least I know my first-load team can hit it close and clean.”
    There was a cheer as they began pulling on their helmets and started double-checking each other’s gear. It didn’t matter that the roster rotated constantly and half of this team could be on the second plane for the next jump. For this moment, they were the best.
    Akbar strapped on his own helmet, tugged on gloves and then turned to trade buddy checks with Two-Tall. Once that was done, they both selected smaller chainsaws and clipped them to their cargo lines.
    “Race you down,” Tim yanked extra hard on Akbar’s harness to make sure it was well seated.
    “Loser buys first round at the Doghouse,” Akbar shook Tim’s light frame with an easy jerk back and forth on his chainsaw’s tie-off rope.
    “Only if I jump first,” Tim completed their ritual with a buddy-check-complete thumb’s up.
    They shared a laugh just as they did before each jump. Akbar was lead smokie. That meant he was first out of the plane and first on the ground.
    When DC lit the warning light he braced in the doorway, Tim huddled right behind him. At the green, Akbar jumped and relished the freefall for several seconds. He didn’t do a somersault, because he had a chainsaw dangling at his hip. Then he popped the chute and was jerked from a hundred-plus miles an hour to under twenty.
    Once he was stable under his chute and checked that Tim was as well, he let the saw hang down on the thirty-foot line. The saws would hit the ground behind his own landing point. The tank of gas in each would be plenty for what they needed until the cargo master could dump more supplies.
    The ride down was a little wild. Once, he was sure he was going to eat an eighty-foot Doug fir that was guarding the bluff, twice he was convinced he’d be downslope into the forest before he hit.
    But his saw landed on the soft grass and he nailed his spot right between a pair of alders, their thin branches whipping against his helmet’s mesh faceplate. He was quick enough to tug the chute closed without it collapsing over the top of some tree. Two-Tall was right beside him.
    They jammed their chutes into pack-out bags and fired up their saws. By the time Chas and Ox were coming in, they’d punched a fifty-foot clearing in the center of the alder grove. The other eight dropped in clean and soon the team was ready to get down to some serious work.
    Akbar stole a second to peek at his phone. Nope. They were deep in the Siskiyou National Forest. No cell reception on the ground here. No reply to beautiful brunette space lady, at least not until this was done.
    He jammed the phone away and did his best not to think about how to apologize for what was sure to be several days of silence.
    Right now they had a fire to fight.
    # # #
    Grayson Clyde Masterson was being a royal pain in her butt. For one thing, he actually was a skilled rider. It allowed him to constantly maneuver his mount to be closest to hers. For another, he’d appointed himself the assistant ride leader and had pretty much everyone convinced that he and Laura were a charming couple.
    At what point do you tell a paying tourist to back off and go to hell? Mom and Grandma had taught her that point came after they paid you. So she slapped on a