Double Trouble Hotshots -

Then, a whisper. “We’re… pinned. North draw. Fire’s circling.”

“Double Trouble, fall back to the black!” Incident Commander Reyes—Carlos, the older by seven minutes—barked into the radio. His voice was calm, the calm of a man who had stared down infernos for a decade. double trouble hotshots

He handed Carlos a folded piece of paper. It was a commendation for valor, already drafted. Then, a whisper

Carlos keyed the mic. “O’Brien One, O’Brien Two, status.” Fire’s circling

There was no time to run. The fire was too fast. Diego pointed to a spot where a previous backfire had created a narrow strip of dead, blackened earth. “There. Four shelters, one cluster. Now.”

“It’s a tactical delay,” Finn cut in, her tone identical to her sister’s. “We have the pulse. We’ll see you at the rendezvous.”

They slammed the metallic tents into the scorched soil. Four bodies, two sets of twins, huddled inside the shimmering heat-reflective fabric as the firestorm passed over them. The sound was apocalyptic—a freight train of rage. The air grew thin. The heat was a living thing, trying to pry the shelters open.