Disclaimer- I don't own Planes of any type. I just fly in them.

Chapter 1- That Others Might Live

Piston Peak National Park was going up into flames, lives were at stake, and Blade Ranger was grounded. The waterlines were cut, the rest of the Piston Peaks Fire Attack Team were off making a dangerous night flight across the flames to try to rescue an unknown number of trapped visitors, and Blade Ranger was still grounded.

According to Maru he really should still be in his hanger trying to regain his strength after nearly bleeding on his hydraulics dry, but the big helicopter couldn't help but roll out to his favorite overlook to try to get a glimpse of what was going on. The sight wasn't pretty. Even through the dark and the smoke choked sky Blade could see just how quickly the fire was spreading.

Below him he could see Maru, nervously pacing and muttering under his breath. Blade knew that these types of missions stressed Maru out to no end. That every time they went out on a rare night mission their mechanic would nearly have a fit of worry convinced that one or more of them would clip a tree or get too close to the canyon's edge.

He could also see Patch in the control tower pulling out maps and switching between radio set ups. It was pretty clear that their communication's expert was rapidly reaching task saturation with all of the inputs and information coming in from around the park. Blade was starting to wonder if Maru would allow him to at least take a load off of Patch, by transferring some off the communication traffic down stairs to the main hanger, when the Piston Peak Fire Attack radio channel crackled to life.

"Windlifter, do you copy?*" Patch's stressed but calm voice came across loud and clear.

"Go ahead, Patch.*" The large helicopter's voice muffled by distance, but readable.

"We've got two old RV's trapped in Augerin Canyon.*"

"Two old RVs? Oh, no.*" Dusty's rapid fire voice followed, his words stumbling with stress as he spoke. "It's Harvey and Winnie, We met them earlier. They're looking for the place they had their first kiss.*"

"Augerin Canyon. That's at the other end of the park.*"

"I can get there the fastest.*" At Dusty's words, Blade couldn't keep his heart from sinking. Crophopper was a trainee and this was a mission that even a seasoned firefighter would struggle to complete without backup.

"The canyon will be engulfed in flames and you have no retardant.*" Windlifter was clearly trying to be a voice of reason.

"I'll scoop off the river.*" The little plane spoke and it was pretty clear at this point that Dusty wasn't going to change his mind, and Blade was already rolling down the tarmac. "There is a clear stretch of water. Windlifter I can do it.*"

"Go. And be safe.*" Windlifter's sounded completely resigned, but Blade swore that he could detect a note of worry in the helicopter's voice.

"Maru, fuel me up." Blade called out as he drove up to the fueling station.

"Blade…" Maru rolled out of the workshop with his 'I am on the war path' look on, but stopped short when he got a good look at Blade.

"We don't have time for this. Dusty's out there trying to rescue a pair of trapped RV's and I would prefer to have more than a half a tank when I head out."

Maru looked up at Blade, his eyes filled with both understanding and hurt. Then the mechanic hooked him up. Even though a lot of the equipment at their base of operation was old or cobbled together, their fueling and tank systems were top of the line. Everyone knew that they could survive leaks in their hangers, but when battling fires shaving a few seconds off the time when they were filling with avgas or load retardant could be the difference between life and death.

"Thank you." Blade sighed once his tanks were comfortable full.

"Just make sure that both of you come back in one piece."

"I will do my best." Then with the whine of rotors and the thunder of prop wash, Blade Ranger keyed his mike and took to the sky. "Patch, I am heading to support Champ at Augerin Canyon."

As Windlifter watched Dusty fly into the maelstrom of smoke and fire, the helicopter could help but have a sinking feeling in his drive shaft. Flying at night was dangerous enough. Flying at night over a fire was a downright death trap unless you have had decades of training. Still, Windlifter didn't have much time to worry little M-18 Dromader. He had his own mission to complete. Glancing back at the two companions he had left, he knew it was going to be a challenge.

Lil' Dipper seemed to be faring the best. Whether the modified Grumman G-21 Goose realized it or not, she was probably the aircraft that was best build for this particular mission. Her amphibious nature had gifted her with an abnormally strong frame and lift capability. Her time on choppy seas had given her a stomach of iron, and her air intake system allowed her to pull most of the air from the top of her structure which didn't do much about the smoke, but did slow the ash and ember accumulation on her filters.

Despite all of Dipper's specialized modifications, you could see that she was wheezing and the way she winced every time they were buffeted by another fire induced turbulent. Dipper was hurting, but she wasn't in any immediate danger. Cabbie, on the other hand was starting to look like he had just flown through a thunderstorm and Windlifter suspected that if he got closer the Fairchild C-119 Boxcar could would here the airplanes engine laboring.

"Cabbie, how are the winds treating you my friend?" Windlifter spoke fearing what he would hear.

"Been better." Cabbie coughed, which in Cabbie speak translated into I am in trouble get me on the ground as soon as possible. Sandwiched between the two other aircraft Dipper's engines whined indicated that she was choking on smoke once again.

Windlifter banked to the right and tried to gain them both time and altitude. Cabbie had to be his first priority. The cargo plane may have had been a firefighting aircraft for most of his post military life, but there was a reason why he was the last C-119 fighting fires anywhere in the world. They had a bad habit of falling out of the sky or pin wheeling across the tarmac upon landing after fighting a bad fire.

The Sikorsky S-64 Skycrane glanced back at Cabbie who was starting to lag farther and farther behind as they increased their rate of climb, then he looked over the burning park. As leader, there was no way that he was going to drag Cabbie back across the sea of flames. They were going to have to find another airport to land at. They needed a location that could not only handle Cabbies immense size but also clear their intake systems, there was only one airport in the vicinity that fit the bill.

"We turn south and make an emergency landing at Piston Flats Airstrip."

"What?" Dipper stammered. "But what about home?"

"Home will wait until morning. For now we need to get ourselves out of the smoke and on the ground." Windlifter spoke with the authority of Blade's second in command. "Dipper, you know the way to the Airstrip."

"Yes…but…" The Amphibious aircraft tried to argue, but was cut short.

"Then lead the way. Cabbie will take the center position and I will be at the rear." Windlifter knew that if either plane got into too much trouble and went down there was little that he could do to stop their descent, but he did have the power to hover over them and insure that their rescue was swift.

"Yes sir." Dipper aligned herself to the new heading and Windlifter turned his attention to the communication channels. He first informed Patches that they were diverting to the south, then he got Piston Flats Airstrip on the horn and made sure the runways were cleared and the local crash response team was mobilized just in case their cargo plane landed rough.

"I could have made it back…" Cabbie muttered under his breaths between sputtering coughs. Once they had left the roar of the fire behind it had become easier to hear just how labored the C-119's engine functions had become and Windlifter became more confident that he had made the correct choice diverting.

"It is observed that in any great endeavor it is not enough for a person to depend solely on himself." Windlifter replied as he ushered his fellow aircraft towards the safety of the alternate airstrip.

Dusty was pretty sure that he had only been this terrified once, and that was when he was trying to fly through a tropical storm. That said, when he had taken on the storm, he was at sea level with a healthy engine. This was a completely different situation. Now he was flying at 80 percent capacity through a firestorm, and to make things worse instead of just putting one life on the line three lives were currently relying on his flight skills.

The rest of the Air Attack team where chattering way on the radio but Dusty tuned them out. He needed to focus every fiber of his being on not being slammed into of the canyons by an unexpected draft or swatted out of the air by a falling flaming tree.

The former cropduster had spent pretty much powerless as he watched the bridge in front of him falling apart. The only reason the two RV's were still alive was the fact that the Chief had crested the ridge and used his host to prevent the two vehicles from plunging into the flaming canyon below. Blade had bought him a few precious seconds and Dusty was going to make the most of them.

Going vertical he flew up the fall skirting both water and death. Once he reached to top, he continued traveling to the sky until he completely stalled out and started plummeting back to earth. Dusty used that momentum. Capturing the precious energy he put himself into a dive that pushed him quicker to the edge of the bridge were he dumped the payload dead on target.

"Dusty." Blade caught the attention of the small aircraft that was currently circling to gain altitude. The big helicopter then gave his trainee the best complement he could think of. "Good move, partner."

With the RV's were safely sheltered in the tunnels and Windlifter supporting taking the lead of the rest of the team, Blade could finally relax and let his body admit just how off balance he felt. He was really going to enjoy going back to the hanger and getting a few hours of sleep before taking on the fire first thing…Chrysler!

One moment Dusty was sleepily trying to gain altitude so they could head home, the next his prop ceased up, his engine was smoking, and the kid was making an uncontrolled decent towards the trees. Blade tried to react, he screamed Dusty's name as soon as he realized what was happening but didn't have a chance to move before he started to hear the sickening crack of aircraft against pinion pine. In these types of situations there was only one thing that the Air Ops leader could do…call for help.

"Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. Champ is down. I repeat Champ is down. Our coordinates are…" Blade glanced down at his read out. "Tree Seven Dot Fife One North, One One Niner Dot Fife Eight Seven West. I repeat 37.751 N, 119.587 W. Mayday, Mayday, Mayday."

"Come on Dusty don't do this to my. Respond. Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. Champ is down. I repeat Champ is down. Our coordinates are Tree Seven..."

"Blade this is Patch. We hear both your distress call and Champ's ELT loud and clear. Your position has been plotted. Can you give us any more information about Champ's current condition?"

"Unknown." Blade's voice quavered as though he was trying to keep panic from completely overtaking him. "One moment we were completing the RV rescue and the next moment his rotor ceased up, his engine was smoking, and made an uncontrolled approach into the trees. He is currently not responding to radio or verbal communications."

"Do you have eyes on him? Can you tell us about what types of damage you can see?"

"You know I am not equipped for this!" Blades frustration was palpable and Patch couldn't help but wonder just how blind the helicopter was in the smoke and fire filled night.

"Calm down, I know you are not a night flyer but we are doing this by the protocol." Patch flipped open the binder and started at the top of the crash response checklist. "Do you have eyes on Crophopper 7?"

"No. If I squint I can see where I think he first hit the trees, but the forest is too thick for me to spot him." The Air Ops leader admitted. "But I saw him go down and his ELT across the emergency channels so I know he is in serious trouble."

"Based on that information I am going to give you two options Blade. The first return the base." Patch could hear a displeased grunt at the suggestion. "The other is for you to stay out there, but if you take option two you are going to need to find a safe place to land and stay on the ground until either morning hits or your location is threatened." There was a very long pause. "Blade I need you to give me a verbal response."

"I have located a place to land. I will remain on station until help arrives."

"Roger that, Blade Ranger. We will get help too you as quickly as we can."

Once Patch had completed her transition with Blade Ranger, she turned her attention to the next order of business, getting more help. At first she turned to the radio only to discover that the repeater that allowed her to reach out to her fellow dispatchers across the west was no longer functional. She reached for the phone instead and gave a call to the Interagency Fire Center in Idaho to let them know that they needed to bring in the big guns.

"Windlifter, we have to go back." Dipper had finally gotten to the point begged, but to her credit had not deviated from her course.

"We will remain as a team." Windlifter stated again.

"Then we can go back as a team." Dipper pleaded. "We need to go back to help Dusty."

Who might already be dead, Windlifter thought but didn't verbalize. As much as he would like to help, an aircraft close to 50 miles away couldn't be his priority. "We are…"

"If we go back now you will be scrapping two planes off the cliffs instead of one." Cabbie interjected from in between them. That comment shut down the argument rather quickly.

"Cabbie, please explain?" Windlifter rumbled trying to figure what else had gone wrong.

"I passed bingo on fuel about 5 minutes ago. So my current choices are straight ahead or straight in the ground." Cabbie wheezed. "Your pick."

"Why was this not communicated?"

"Would it have made any difference?" Cabbie sighed unhappily.

Windlifter thought for a few moments before replying. "No."

"Then why should I make a fuss about it. I did the math and the density altitude with all that smoke was killing me. So, I made sure that I had enough fuel to get back to either home or an alternate base while still being light enough carry the jumpers over the hot spots but not a pint more."

Ford, Windlifter thought to himself, he really didn't realize just how close to the razors edge that had taken on this rescue mission. He also hoped that Blade never intended to retire, because after tonight the flying crane was pretty sure he really didn't want to be Air Ops again.

Author's Note- Hi Everyone, I hope that you have enjoyed my first attempt at fanfiction. Any feedback you can give me would be greatly appreciated because while I am currently a search and rescue aerial photographer and have worked as a helicopter load master in the past, I still have a whole lot to learn about writing.

Okay, now that the pleasantries are done. I would like to create a place where I can bring in some of the cool science and logistical stuff that have managed to slip into this story. Today I would like to focus on density altitude.

Density altitude is basically altitude that an air craft and its engines think it is at. It calculated by looking your actual altitude above sea level, temperature, and humidity. As the temperature and humidity go up your density altitude goes up and your aircraft's ability to carry stuff goes down. In a fire situation smoke also plays major havoc on density altitude, which plays heavily in this story.

While most of the aircraft in this story have lift capacity to spare, Cabbie in particular seems to be dangerously close to having load issues. Based on my weight balance calculations, even with modified engines Cabbie can't take off fully loaded and fully fueled during the summer. Clearly he is flying, so the question is how? He reduces weight in the one way he can control, he reduces fuel load. I highly doubt that Cabbie has more than an 1/8 of a tank at any given time during the active fire season.

Well I hope you enjoyed learning a bit about density altitude. If there are any other aviation topics that you would like me to highlight please let me know. :)