Fighting For Calliope

  Fighting for Calliope (Police snd Fire: Operation Alpha)

  Badge of Honor: Tarpley VFD #3

  Haven Rose

  Contents

  Foreword

  Letter From The Authors

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  1. Calliope

  2. Tank

  3. Calliope

  4. Calliope

  5. Tank

  6. Calliope

  7. Calliope

  8. Calliope

  9. Tank

  10. Calliope

  11. Tank

  12. Calliope

  13. Calliope

  14. Calliope

  15. Tank

  16. Calliope

  17. Calliope

  18. Tank

  Epilogue

  Epilogue Two

  About the Author

  Books by Haven Rose

  More Special Forces: Operation Alpha World Books

  Books by Susan Stoker

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  © 2020 ACES PRESS, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this work may be used, stored, reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher except for brief quotations for review purposes as permitted by law.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy.

  Cover design: Buoni Amici Press

  Edited by Gregory Alan

  Dear Readers,

  Welcome to the Police and Fire: Operation Alpha Fan-Fiction world!

  If you are new to this amazing world, in a nutshell the author wrote a story using one or more of my characters in it. Sometimes that character has a major role in the story, and other times they are only mentioned briefly. This is perfectly legal and allowable because they are going through Aces Press to publish the story.

  This book is entirely the work of the author who wrote it. While I might have assisted with brainstorming and other ideas about which of my characters to use, I didn’t have any part in the process or writing or editing the story.

  I’m proud and excited that so many authors loved my characters enough that they wanted to write them into their own story. Thank you for supporting them, and me!

  READ ON!

  Xoxo

  Susan Stoker

  Letter From The Authors

  To our amazing readers:

  The Tarpley Volunteer Fire Department books have been a lot of fun for us to write, and we hope you enjoy them. Six talented authors came together to bring you these stories that take place in one small Texas town. With that in mind, please know that, although we tried very hard to consult with each other on details, there will be some minor differences in basic timelines, character portrayals, and storylines from book to book. While we take pride in our craft, it’s almost impossible to have all the details match in six different works by six different authors, and we hope that you’ll enjoy the uniqueness of each story rather than comparing them to each other. We ultimately wanted to bring you stories that you can enjoy, that will take you out of your world for a little while and drop you into another, and we know you'll appreciate them for the entertainment that they're intended to offer. Thanks for your support of us and happy reading!

  ~Silver, Deanndra, Haven, MJ, TL, and Nicole

  Acknowledgments

  Acknowledgment and Dedication

  My utmost thanks to Susan for inviting me to play in her world, and to Amy for being so helpful and willing to answer all the questions I asked of her.

  Deanndra, MJ, Nicole, Silver, and TL, it was a pleasure. I look forward to working with you again. Drue, thank you for the wonderful graphics. They’re gorgeous.

  Readers, I hope you enjoy getting to know Tank, Calliope, and the other characters as much as I did. Perhaps you’ll be seeing them again.

  About the book

  Their hearts aren’t the only thing in danger…

  Will Calliope break through Tank’s defenses?

  I hurt those I love, so I’ve closed myself off to all possibilities of finding it. That sounds dramatic, but my dad would be alive if it wasn’t for me. My mom didn’t get her HEA, so why should I? Twenty years later, dreams of that night still haunt me and let me know something bad is coming. With my history and position as a volunteer firefighter, I’m surrounded by tragedy. Then fate brings me Calliope, and I realize there’s still good in the world. But instead of fighting my fears, I might have to conquer nature to keep my soulmate.

  Can Tank protect Calliope from herself?

  After seeing the good my parents did while traveling the world as teachers, my dream was to do the same, but from a home base – something I never really had. However, I’ve learned adventure has its own appeal, and now, I chase storms. My family worries about the danger I’m in, yet they don’t know the secret I’m keeping. It’s not my job that may kill me. When I meet Tank, a man that makes me rethink everything I thought I knew about myself. Perhaps home isn’t a place after all.

  Suddenly, forever isn’t long enough…

  Prologue

  Tank

  March…

  I’m half-asleep, but quickly waking up. Then again, fire licking up the walls of your home can do that to you. Dad sounds calm, yet I can see the worry on his face. He’s trying to hide it, though, not wanting any of us to realize the danger we’re in. Carly and Bree come up behind me, their little hands shaking as they grip mine.

  “Sherman, get your sisters outside,” he commands as he wraps his arms around my mom and indicates for me and my siblings to go first. I know then how serious this is simply because he didn’t call me Tank. I’m not ashamed to admit I’m a bit scared by that fact, but I trust my dad to take care of us. He’s never let me down.

  We’re standing on the sidewalk, shivering in our pajamas as the temperature has dropped, when my brain fully starts functioning again and I remember what’s missing. Walking over to my dad, I nudge him to get his attention and tell him, “Sarah is inside,” referring to the cat Bree got for Christmas. She loves that thing, and, when I hear her sobbing, I know she just realized none of us have her.

  Dad tells me to watch over my mom and sisters, then goes back in. I want to beg him not to, something warning me I shouldn’t let him go, but then I look at my youngest sister’s face and her tears take the words right out of my mouth.

  I know it’s only been a few minutes since he walked away, though it feels like an eternity, but I’m so thankful when I hear the sirens getting closer. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out our place is well beyond saving by this point.

  We’re all staring at the fire devouring our home, the sound louder than you’d think possible. Maybe it’s because it’s so quiet being this late at night, or perhaps a hush has fallen upon the whole town, as if all the residents are holding their breath, somehow knowing one of their own is in danger.

  There’s a creak, the wood groaning perhaps? I’m not sure, but I do know I don’t like it. Sarah comes running out, headed in our direction, and I have to grab Bree as she starts to race forward. I make her stay there, promising I’ll get her cat, then do just that, gathering Sarah in my arms and petting her, needing to reassure both of us, and check for injuries. She seems okay, and I breathe a sigh of relief at that discovery, but it fades instantly when I
look at our door, and don’t see my dad trailing after her.

  Handing Sarah to Bree, I look at mom, then at the firefighters rushing to deal with the blaze, recognizing Dave, also a close friend of my dad’s, from his size and walk. He has a swagger to him that’s unmistakable, even now.

  They talk amongst themselves very quickly, then split up, some going for the structure, others to hook up the hose and start spraying it. Mom moves closer to me, her arms encircling Carly and Bree, who is clutching Sarah tight, so I wrap mine around her. A glance at her expression informs me she knows it’s bad, but hope hits nonetheless when Dave comes through the door, the shape of a man slung over his shoulder.

  Paramedics hurry forward and Dave lays dad on a stretcher, then removes his helmet, pain on his face, as they promptly place an oxygen mask on dad. He signals one of his men to join us, and, as if some kind of mental conversation passes between them, the firefighter leans close to mom and whispers in her ear.

  “Girls, stay here, okay? I need to talk to Dave.” They nod, the guy telling her he’ll take care of them, then she takes my hand and has me go with her. Dave shakes his head, sadness in his eyes, and moves back a step. We’re told it’s critical he get to the hospital asap, and mom climbs in with him, then glances at me.

  “Go,” I urge, not wanting her to worry about us. “Someone will drive us there.” And they do, though I can’t remember who it is with all that’s going on.

  When we arrive, I tell them we’re here for Otto Reardon and we’re ushered to a room. Mom is standing next to the bed, tears trailing down her cheeks, dad’s hand clasped in hers, her thumb stroking his wedding ring. She opens her mouth, and the words come at me as if we’re in a tunnel, but I hear them regardless. Devastating news always finds a way to get through any barrier you try to erect to keep it out. She’s telling us we need to let him go, that the doctors say he won’t, can’t, recover, his brain being deprived of oxygen too long, the smoke damage too severe.

  I hate that my little sisters are hearing this, that I’m failing at my job to always protect them, but I can’t from this. And I’m the reason our dad is gone. If I hadn’t mentioned the cat, he would’ve stayed with us. He’d be safe, making some lame joke to break the tension, to let us know it’ll be okay because we have each other.

  But it won’t be, not ever again. And then the machines start beeping, people come rushing in, and I’d give anything to be on that bed instead of him.

  When the doctor halts their efforts, my mom starts bawling, there’s no other description for it, and he softly says, “Time of death…”

  Gasping for breath, I shoot upright, my heart hammering in my chest as I wake. That was the worst night of my life, and whenever it haunts my sleep, I’ve learned it’s a foreshadowing of sorts, a warning that something bad is coming. At least, that’s been the case so far, a sign that things are about to change once again in some shape or form – Rosie’s passing, the revelation of Carly’s marriage and subsequent divorce, the fire we’d been called to assist with last month, and so on.

  I can’t help but question what it signifies now, not to mention wondering why the outcome is always the same, even though I know I’m dreaming and try to change it. I still lose my dad, still blame myself for it.

  The only answer I’ve been able to come up with is the reality of that devastating evening is nightmare enough.

  1

  Calliope

  Spending time with Jemma over the weekend was exactly what I needed. We met in college, both attending the University of Oklahoma, my home state actually, to become teachers. With me being a little older, our bond is more like that of sisters, and I feel lucky to have her in my life. While we each earned our degrees, Jemma is the only one currently working in the field.

  I, on the other hand, went in a completely opposite direction by chasing storms for a living. That might sound odd seeing as how I always expected to follow in my parents’ footsteps as I saw the impact they had on others. While I enjoyed visiting various countries as a child, as I got older, I wanted a home base.

  Which I found in college, and then one day between classes I met Brittney, who in turn introduced me to her friends – Lars, Oz, Shiro, and Wylder – and realized it was possible to have both a foundation and the adventure. It changed everything I thought I knew about myself, but I couldn’t fully let go of my childhood dream of being an educator. So, I continued with that path, and took the fork in the road Brittney offered me. It was a lot of work, and delayed my graduation as I’d added years to my studies, but it was so damn worth it. Then, when Brittney and I met up again, the devastation of what happened in Moore having such a deep impact on all of us, we all knew we wanted to do something to prevent that from happening to others.

  However, accomplishing your goals can come with a price, and I’m paying mine. Well, those who love me are. I know they worry about me, though none of them will outright ask me to stop doing this. But it’s getting to me. I haven’t been sleeping nor eating well. And my once rare migraines are coming on more frequently. I’m stressed over the secret I’m keeping from them, and I know it’s impacting my already compromised system.

  I could have, should have, shared this with Jemma when we were together, except I didn’t want to ruin girl time. We don’t get to do it often, but our schedules lined up thanks to a conference and we couldn’t pass it up.

  Plus, to be honest, her meeting that man at the bar, Short Shit, and yes, that made me giggle, also allowed me the opportunity to keep it to myself a little longer. It was a reprieve I gladly accepted. Besides, it’s obvious there’s something between them, the numerous back and forth glances proof of that. I finally pushed her to talk to him, dance with him. I don’t know if there’s anything to it other than a good time, but I’m hoping she’ll take the risk to find out.

  Now I’m back in Austin, in my room inside the antebellum we restored as a group. Again, another thing that took a lot of hours, curses, and learning, but, every time I see it, I know it was worth it.

  When my phone rings, I reach out to grab it, pleased to see my brother’s smiling face on the screen. “Little sis,” Slade greets me, despite the fact he’s not that much older than me. We’re very close. Perhaps growing up as we did may have a had a lot to do with that as we were always the new kids wherever we went. We’re both quiet, though he’s more so. I’ve often asked myself why seeing as how dad and mom are very sociable, neither ever meeting a stranger.

  “Big brother,” I reply. He, too, abandoned the wandering lifestyle, sort of as his is just now done on two wheels with former veterans like himself. A few years after he enlisted, Slade’s unit came under attack. He wasn’t the only one injured, but his resulted in permanent nerve damage that ended his military career. He’s a unique mix of badass and scholar, as we’ve termed him. His strength is not only physical, but mental as well, his brain capable of coming up with the great mysteries he publishes under the pen name Lawrence Slater. The last is close to Slade without being too obvious to hide his real identity. It was also my idea, so I might be partial to it.

  “What’s wrong?” He asks. How the hell does he always know? Trying to play it cool, I remind him I’m not one of his characters, but he calls me on my shit. “Cut it out.” Knowing if I don’t tell him, and somehow, he will know if I hold back, I tell him I’ve been debating resigning from the team, and that I know they’d like it if I did. “You have to do what makes you happy, not us. We’re going to be concerned about your safety no matter what field you’re in. It’s what family does.” With that reassurance, he drops the subject, promising to visit me soon. And reminding me to call dad and mom. They worry, you know. He’s worse than they are. Walter and Winnie Lawrence are wonderful parents, very loving and affectionate with each other and their children, but they’re also laid-back and prefer to go with the flow. You’d think that mindset would counteract their professions, but it makes them well-loved wherever they go.

  I’ve noticed the others watc
hing me with curiosity lately, as if they know I’m second-guessing myself. I don’t mean that to sound harsh or judgmental, but what we do…there’s a factor of strain involved, and if you don’t find a way to relieve it that works for you, it can take a toll.

  On the flip side, we can also do a lot of good. Our knowledge and focus on impending storms, keeping an eye on the potential path, and so much more can save lives by giving as much warning as possible.

  I’ve always loved that part of it, and being able to do so with people I’ve grown close to makes it even better. Surprisingly, our videos have become quite popular. You wouldn’t think so, or at least I wouldn’t, but reality shows are huge, and this is pretty much the same thing.

  I’m just not sure if this is the place for me anymore.

  2

  Tank

  “You look like shit,” Pops, or Dave as I knew him when I was younger, says as he steps into the bay where I’m currently reworking an engine. Otto Repairs, a play on my dad’s first name as he loved puns, was his dream, and it almost died with him, but the residents of Tarpley, my hometown, and Bandera, where the shop is located, banded together until I was old enough, and ready, to take over the business. There are pros and cons to living in a small-town, but the good far outweighs the bad.