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WINGS OVER FIRE by Robert Nerbovig
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Expansion and Evolution The pre-dawn air at Los Angeles Fire Base in San Bernardino crackled with anticipation as Captain Danny Cordero completed his walk-around inspection of Tanker 1910. The massive DC-10 sat gleaming under the hangar lights, its red and white livery a stark contrast against the gray concrete. In the eighteen months since the events of their first major season, the fleet had grown from a handful of aircraft to a formidable aerial firefighting force. That's what made DC-10 AERIAL FIREFIGHTING SYSTEMS, LLC., the go-to resource for the most challenging fire situations. "Morning, Captain," called out Flight Engineer Dave Slater as he emerged from beneath the aircraft, wiping hydraulic fluid from his hands. "She's ready to fly. All systems green." Danny nodded, his weathered face creased with the kind of satisfaction that came from working with the best. "Thanks, Dave. Any word from dispatch?" "Radio's been quiet, but that never lasts long this time of year," he replied, glancing toward the communication center where amber lights flickered across multiple screens. The expansion had been remarkable. What started as an experimental program had evolved into the most sophisticated aerial firefighting operation in the world. Thirty DC-10s now formed the backbone of their fleet, supported by eight KC-46 Pegasus tankers capable of in-flight refueling operations. The Pegasus aircraft, with its 31,000-gallon capacity, could keep the DC-10s airborne for extended operations, revolutionizing how they approached large-scale fires. Co-pilot Rick Burdick approached with two steaming cups of coffee, his familiar grin unchanged despite the early hour. "Thought you might need this, Danny. Word is we might be getting a call soon." "Where?" "Utah. Something big is brewing near St. George." Danny accepted the coffee gratefully, the ceramic mug warm against his palms. "How big?" "Big enough that they're asking for 1910 specifically," Rick said, his tone shifting to the serious register Danny knew well. "You know what that means." Indeed he did. Tanker 1910 had earned a reputation as the lead aircraft for the most challenging fires. Danny's crew had developed an almost supernatural ability to read fire behavior, to find the vulnerable spots where a well-placed drop could turn the tide. Their success rate had made them legends in the firefighting community. "Captain Cordero to Operations," the radio crackled to life. Danny keyed his handheld radio. "This is Cordero, go ahead." "Report to briefing room immediately. We have a Code Red dispatch." The briefing room buzzed with activity. Operations Chief George Loya stood at the front, his no-nonsense demeanor commanding immediate attention. Behind him, a large digital display showed satellite imagery of a fire that looked like an orange cancer spreading across the Utah landscape. "Gentlemen, ladies," he began, his voice cutting through the chatter. "We have the Forsyth Fire, thirty miles north of St. George, Utah. Started six hours ago from a lightning strike. Current size: 2,500 acres and growing fast. Winds are gusting to 35 mph from the southwest, pushing the fire toward residential areas." Danny studied the imagery, his trained eye reading the fire's behavior patterns. "Terrain?" "Steep canyons, mixed brush and timber. Some structures at risk, but our main concern is the fire jumping Highway 15. If it crosses there, we're looking at a potential run toward the suburbs." "What's the ground situation?" asked Rick. "Local crews are establishing firebreaks, but they're understaffed and outgunned. That's why Utah Emergency Management specifically requested Tanker 1910 and support aircraft." Danny felt the familiar tightness in his chest that came before a big fire. "What's our package?" "1910 as lead, supported by Tankers 1911 and 1912. KC-46 Pegasus 2001 will provide in-flight refueling capability. Lead plane will be provided by Utah Division of Forestry – they're sending their King Air." "ETA to target?" "Wheels up in thirty minutes. Flight time to St. George is approximately two hours." As the briefing broke up, Danny gathered his crew. Besides Rick and Dave, they were joined by Fire Boss Steve Richardson, a former hotshot superintendent whose ground experience made him invaluable for coordinating with surface crews. "Steve, what's your read on this one?" Danny asked as they walked toward the aircraft. Steve consulted his tablet, studying the latest intelligence reports. "Classic interface fire. Wildland meeting urban. The wind's the killer here – if it maintains direction and speed, we're looking at a potential disaster. The good news is the terrain gives us some natural firebreaks if we can get retardant in the right places." "And the bad news?" "If we miss our window, this thing could make a run that we can't stop." The pre-flight checks proceeded with practiced efficiency. Danny had flown with this crew for over three years now, and they moved together like a well-oiled machine. Dave ran through his engineering checks while Rick handled navigation and communications. Steve coordinated with the incident command structure already being established in Utah. "Los Angeles Fire Base, this is Tanker 1910, ready for departure," Danny announced over the radio. "Tanker 1910, Los Angeles Fire Base, you are cleared for takeoff. Winds 240 at 8 knots. Contact SoCal Departure on 124.9." The DC-10 rolled down the runway, its three engines building to a thunderous roar. Danny felt the familiar lift as the massive aircraft rotated, the ground falling away beneath them. Within minutes, they were climbing through the marine layer that perpetually shrouded the Los Angeles basin. "Tankers 1911 and 1912, this is 1910. Form up for transit to Utah," Danny called. "1911, roger, forming up on your right." "1912, copy, taking left position." The three aircraft flew in a loose formation across the Mojave Desert, their shadows racing across the barren landscape below. Danny used the transit time to study the fire behavior models Steve had downloaded, trying to anticipate what they would find. "This is going to be a chess match," he told Rick. "We get one chance to set up a defensive line. If the fire jumps our retardant, we're playing catch-up." "What about the Pegasus?" "That's our ace in the hole. With in-flight refueling, we can maintain continuous operations. The question is whether we can establish an effective drop pattern before the fire makes its big run." As they approached Utah airspace, the radio crackled with activity. Ground crews were already engaged, but their reports painted a picture of a fire that was quickly outpacing their capabilities. "Tanker 1910, this is Utah Air Attack 01, do you copy?" "Utah Air Attack 01, Tanker 1910, loud and clear." "Roger, 1910. This is Lead Plane Pilot Tom Bradley in the King Air. We're already on station, beginning reconnaissance of the fire area. Be advised, conditions are deteriorating rapidly." Danny could hear the tension in Bradley's voice. Lead plane pilots were the quarterback of aerial firefighting operations, coordinating between air and ground resources while flying low and slow over active fires. "What's your assessment, Tom?" "Fire's making a significant run up McKenzie Canyon. We've got about a two-hour window before it reaches the ridge line. If it crowns there, we're looking at a potential catastrophic spread." "Copy that. What's our primary target?" "I'm going to have you lay down a line along the ridge road, approximately two miles east of the fire's current position. If we can establish a barrier there, the ground crews can use it as an anchor point for their operations." Danny banked the DC-10 toward the fire area, and the first thing that struck him was the smoke column – a towering pyrocumulus cloud that reached nearly 30,000 feet into the atmosphere. The fire was creating its own weather system, generating winds that could shift direction without warning. "Jesus," Rick muttered, staring at the massive smoke plume. "That's a big one." "And it's just getting started," Danny replied grimly. As they descended toward the fire area, the details became clearer. Orange flames raced up the canyon walls, consuming everything in their path. The fire moved with a life of its own, seeming to pulse and breathe as it devoured the landscape. "Tanker 1910, Utah Air Attack 01, I have you in sight. Follow me for a reconnaissance pass." The King Air led them along the fire's eastern flank, Tom Bradley's voice providing a running commentary on the fire's behavior and the proposed drop zones. "We're looking at a classic upslope fire run," he explained. "The canyon's acting like a chimney, accelerating the fire toward the ridge. Our primary drop zone is along this ridge road – you can see the dirt track running east-west." Danny studied the terrain through the DC-10's windows. The ridge road would indeed make an excellent anchor point for suppression efforts, but it would require precision flying to lay down an effective retardant line. "Tom, what's the clearance over the ridge?" "Minimum altitude for drops is 200 feet AGL. Be advised, we're seeing some significant turbulence over the fire area. Winds are gusting and variable." "Copy that. 1910 is ready for our first drop." "Roger, 1910. You're cleared for your drop run. I'll be monitoring from the north." Danny began his descent, the DC-10's engines throttling back as they approached the drop zone. The aircraft shuddered slightly as they encountered the turbulent air over the fire, invisible columns of superheated air rising from the flames below. "Retardant system armed," Dave announced from his engineer's station. "Drop zone in sight," Rick called out. "Winds are 35 knots from the southwest, gusting to 45." Danny made small adjustments to his approach, compensating for the crosswind that threatened to push their retardant drop off target. The ridge road appeared ahead, a thin brown line cutting across the green landscape. "Steady... steady..." Danny murmured, his hands firm on the controls. "Drop in ten seconds," Dave announced. The DC-10 thundered over the ridge at 200 feet, and Danny felt the aircraft lurch slightly as 9,000 gallons of red retardant cascaded from the belly tanks. The retardant spread in a wide swath along the ridge, creating a fire-resistant barrier that would hopefully stop the fire's advance. "Good drop, 1910!" Tom Bradley's voice crackled over the radio. "Excellent coverage along the ridge." Danny pulled the DC-10 into a climbing turn, already planning his next approach. "1911, you're cleared for your drop run. Same target, extend the line to the east." "1911, roger, beginning our approach." As the second DC-10 made its drop, Danny studied the fire's behavior. The flames were still advancing up the canyon, but their rate of spread had slowed slightly. The retardant was working, but would it be enough? "1912, you're up," Danny called. "Extend the line to the west, tie it into that rock outcropping." "1912, copy, we're inbound." After all three aircraft had completed their initial drops, Danny called for a damage assessment. The retardant line was holding, but the fire was testing it at several points. "Tom, how's it looking from your position?" "Good work, 1910. The line's holding for now, but we're seeing some spot fires starting to develop on the north side of the ridge. We might need some follow-up drops." Danny was already calculating fuel consumption and retardant capacity. "That's where the Pegasus comes in. Rick, contact KC-46 2001 and set up a refueling rendezvous." "KC-46 2001, this is Tanker 1910, requesting in-flight refueling." "Tanker 1910, KC-46 2001, roger. We're orbiting at 15,000 feet, 20 miles northeast of your position. Contact when ready for hookup." The in-flight refueling operation was a marvel of precision flying. The massive KC-46 Pegasus flew in a steady pattern while Danny maneuvered the DC-10 into position behind it. The boom operator on the Pegasus guided the connection, and within minutes, both fuel and retardant were flowing into the DC-10's tanks. "That's a good connection," came the voice from the Pegasus. "Transfer complete in fifteen minutes." While they refueled, Danny monitored the radio chatter from the ground crews. The retardant drops had bought them time, but the fire was far from contained. Ground crews were working to establish firebreaks and protect structures, but they needed continued air support. "Transfer complete," announced the Pegasus boom operator. "Tanker 1910, you're cleared to disconnect." With fresh fuel and a full load of retardant, Danny turned back toward the fire. The situation on the ground had evolved during their refueling operation. The fire had found a weakness in their retardant line and was beginning to probe toward a cluster of rural homes. "Utah Air Attack 01, this is 1910. What's our priority target?" "1910, we need immediate drops on the east side of the ridge. Fire's threatening the Mitchell Creek subdivision." Danny could see the homes below, their roofs glinting in the afternoon sun. Families lived there, people who were depending on his crew to protect what they had built. "Roger, Tom. 1910 is inbound for protective drops around the structures." This drop would be more challenging than the ridge line work. Flying between homes required absolute precision, and the margin for error was essentially zero. "Dave, give me a partial drop capability. I want to be able to make multiple passes with smaller quantities." "Roger, Captain. Retardant system configured for sequential drops." Danny lined up his approach, threading the DC-10 between a water tower and a cluster of pine trees. The first drop created a protective barrier around the most exposed homes, while subsequent passes extended the protection to cover the entire subdivision. "Beautiful work, 1910," Tom Bradley called. "That should hold them." As the afternoon wore on, the battle continued. The three DC-10s made multiple drops, constantly refueling from the Pegasus to maintain their operations. Ground crews worked in coordination with the air attacks, using the retardant lines as anchor points for their suppression efforts. By evening, the fire's advance had been stopped. The retardant drops had held, and ground crews had managed to establish control lines around the fire's perimeter. It wasn't contained yet, but it was no longer threatening to make a catastrophic run. "All aircraft, this is Utah Air Attack 01," Tom Bradley announced. "Excellent work today. The fire is showing decreased activity, and ground crews have established preliminary containment. Air operations are suspended for tonight, but be prepared for possible morning operations." Danny felt the familiar exhaustion that came after a long day of firefighting. His crew had performed flawlessly, but the fire was far from over. "1910, this is Operations," came the call from their base. "What's your status?" "Operations, 1910. We're RTB (Returning to Base). Fire is currently holding, but we expect continued operations tomorrow." "Roger, 1910. Good work today." As the DC-10 climbed away from the fire area, Danny looked back at the orange glow still visible on the horizon. They had won the first round, but forest fires were unpredictable beasts. Tomorrow would bring new challenges. "Rick, contact Los Angeles Fire Base and let them know we'll be operating out of St. George for the duration. Have them send the ground support crew." "Will do, Danny. Think we'll be here long?" Danny studied the weather forecasts Steve was showing him. High pressure was building, which meant continued hot, dry conditions with erratic winds. "Could be a while," he said. "This fire's not done with us yet." |
