Flash of Fire by M. L. Buchman

was one less person she needed to be pissed at.
    â€œPretty much the same latitude as Fairbanks, Alaska.”
    â€œMickey.” She managed to not go for his throat. He was clearly having too much fun, which she’d make him pay for later.
    â€œThe Arctic Circle is only a hundred and fifty miles that way.”
    The lightbulb went on for Jeannie.
    Now she was the only one who didn’t—“Wait a minute.”
    â€œDing!” Mickey called out, terribly pleased with himself. She shoved against his shoulder, but he was so stable in his squat that he merely rocked to the side and then re-centered.
    She recognized that type of training. When Mickey had joined so smoothly in her stretching routine, she’d figured him for having been a soldier or an athlete. Not a soldier, she’d decided. He didn’t have enough attitude.
    But now she could see by the way he let her shove ripple through him and the way he twisted that he too had martial arts training. For just a moment, she wondered what it might be like to spar with him. It also told her that frontal assaults were not going to affect him.
    â€œArctic Circle.” Robin spoke aloud to show that she wasn’t a total idiot. “Today is June 18th, four days to the summer solstice. So when the hell is sunset around here?”
    â€œTwelve forty-eight,” Steve read off one of his screens.
    â€œHold it! The sun doesn’t set until after midnight up here?”
    â€œAnd sunrise is just three hours later, shortly before four a.m.” Steve look amused. “Twilight in between. No true darkness.”
    â€œFour a.m. I’m going crazy.” Robin’s head hurt.
    â€œThen you’ll fit right in at MHA.” Mickey looked beyond amused.
    Robin surveyed the group of pilots crammed into the back of the Firehawk. They’d just done a punishing flight lasting a dozen hours and not a one of them was showing it.
    Not when there was a fire waiting.
    Not when their friends were already on the ground facing the beast.
    They were all watching her. Waiting for…what?
    For someone to take control. Robin suddenly wished that Emily Beale was here and she was still chasing tips at Phoebe’s Tucson Truck Stop.
    Well, Emily wasn’t here and she was.
    â€œMickey?” She did her best to make her voice all sweetness and light.
    â€œYes, Robin?”
    She leaned into the cargo bay until her face was mere inches from his. His easy and open expression almost invited her to lean in the last inch or so and kiss him. She would have if she thought it would shock him, but he’d been a step ahead of her since the MHA airfield back in Oregon and she’d had enough of that.
    Robin rested a palm against the center of his chest.
    Then she shoved fast and hard.
    He tumbled over backward and landed against the rear cargo net, snagging his foot high in the net and getting stuck there.
    â€œYou have five minutes to get that cute ass of yours in the air. People”—she turned back to the others—“get calories from Betsy’s cooler and double-check your safety gear. We’re going in.”
    There was no answering cheer.
    No calls of any kind.
    Instead, they scrambled out of the cargo bay, grabbed a couple of sandwiches out of the cooler, and hit the ground running. Carly shifted forward into the copilot’s seat and began setting up a laptop where it mostly blocked the woman’s access to the flight controls.
    Robin decided that Carly hadn’t been kidding when she’d told Robin not to have an emergency that required the copilot to fly.
    Mickey untangled himself from the cargo net and rolled out of the cargo bay, landing on his feet close beside her on the grass.
    â€œHow did I do?” she couldn’t help asking and then felt like an idiot for doing so. That wasn’t how leaders led.
    Mickey looked her up and down like a man suddenly turned greedy, but his big smile wasn’t a