Chapter 5 - The Investigation Begins
Two weeks passed in a blur of legal motions, packing boxes, and medical checkups. Dr. Vance confirmed that Lucy’s blood pressure had normalized and the baby was growing healthily despite the trauma of the elevator collapse. But while Lucy was finding her footing in her new sanctuary, Alex’s life was quietly beginning to unravel at the seams.
At the Chicago Fire Department's Engine 42 station, the atmosphere had grown frosty. Firehouse culture runs on trust, loyalty, and the unwritten code that when you step into a burning building or a compromised shaft, your brother watches your back—and your character matters outside the rig bay.
Mark, the rookie who had handed Lucy her ring, sat at the stainless-steel kitchen table cleaning his gear when Lieutenant Alex Davis walked in. The room went dead silent. The other three firefighters at the table—veterans with decades of service—suddenly found their coffee mugs deeply fascinating.
"Mark," Alex barked, his voice carrying an edge of manufactured authority. "In my office. Now."
Mark didn't flinch. He slowly set down his rag, stood up to his full height, and walked into the glass-walled office, leaving the door wide open so the rest of the crew could hear every word.
"You've been talking," Alex accused the second the door clicked shut, leaning over his desk with his palms flat against the wood. "Word around the battalion is floating around that you've been running your mouth about the department store rescue. About who I carried out first."
"I haven't been running my mouth, Lieutenant," Mark replied evenly, his voice remarkably steady for a rookie speaking to a superior officer. "People saw what happened. When you kick open an elevator door after seven hours of oxygen deprivation and walk past a pregnant woman slumped in the corner to scoop up an uninjured woman with a scraped knee, people tend to notice. Especially when that pregnant woman hands you her wedding ring and tells you she’s done."
Alex’s face flushed a dark, furious crimson. "She was having a medical emergency! Valerie was in a state of acute panic! As a firefighter, my job is to extract victims based on immediate danger—"
"Protocol says you triage, sir," Mark interrupted quietly, cutting straight through Alex's rehearsed excuse. "Rule one of confined-space extraction: assess the most vulnerable occupant first. An elderly man, a child, and a pregnant woman twenty-four weeks along take precedence over a civilian screaming for attention with a bruised ego. You didn't triage, Lieutenant. You played favorites."
"Watch your tone, rookie," Alex snarled, slamming a fist down on the desk. "You think you know how to run a rescue? You think you have the seniority to judge my calls?"
"I know what I saw," Mark said, holding his ground. "And more importantly, Internal Affairs wants to talk to you."
Alex froze. The angry color drained from his face in an instant. "What?"
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"An anonymous complaint was filed with the department's safety and ethics board regarding professional misconduct and conflict of interest during the downtown department store incident," Mark said smoothly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small official slip of paper. "They're reviewing the helmet-cam footage from the extraction team. They want your statement by tomorrow morning."
Before Alex could find his voice, Mark turned on his heel, walked out of the office, and left the lieutenant staring blankly at the empty doorway.
