A/N: Hello everyone! Thanks for making it past the rather strange prologue. Have a little faith in it because it will all hopefully make sense in the entirety of this fic! It will just take some time for some of those events to come to fruit and when they do, I will make sure to point them out. Think of it as a teaser/extended preview of what's to come.

Now we get to move forward and meet the protagonist of the story, Kennedy Fremont! Please note, this is set in 2008 at about the time Tony Stark is still in the cave and held hostage by the Ten Rings. His three months are nearly up with the forging of Iron Man.

Music for this chapter: Copperhead Road / / Steve Earle

PART ONE: The Girl With the Toe Tag

Kennedy Fremont feels like she messed up. All her life she stayed under the radar; stayed away from secret government agencies; and didn't get people too interested by having them look deep into who she is. But what can she do when a normal person would have died with the act she pulled? Especially when she apparently comes back from the dead.

Chapter I

Smokejumper

2008

August was always a dry month. Peak fire season mixed with the dry late summer turned the surrounding landscape of fresh summer greens to yellow, gray, and brown. The landscape was a shadow of its former self in desperate need of rain. On a small overlook, a white truck sat above the shallow valley. It was decked out with a large tool box in the back and on the side doors a decal of a rose on fire was visible beneath a grimy sheen of dirt.

The overlook was not quiet even with the secluded location. Planes buzzed overhead and the radio in the truck played rock music as it drifted through the open windows. On the truck's hood, two large maps were anchored by a shortwave radio. On them were the state lines of Washington and Oregon. Each one had the forested areas highlighted in green with red lines marked in sharpie. The radio cackled with calm and collected voices calling out plane formations, truck placements and quick response teams. It sounded like a tangled mess of jargon to the typical bystander. However that wasn't the case for Kennedy Fremont.

Wheat colored blond hair was pulled up in a pony tale and the wind softly tugged the long strands. A pair of sunglasses were perched on a tan nose and her brows were pinched with concern over hazel eyes. Her hands traced the maps with fingernails painted a nude pink and a layer of dirt caked beneath them. She folded out the fold lines and followed the strokes she had just put down to mark the places where the Wednesday wildfire was moving. The raging beast was beginning to turn troublesome she noted. She had spent enough years fighting them to understand a little bit how they behaved.

She picked up her water bottle and took a swig from it. Her face twinged in pain when her injured shoulder pulled in the wrong direction. She would be out there with her team if it weren't for the doctor benching her. She'd be out there hacking logs, setting ablaze control fires, and working through the sweat, dust, and ash with her fellow brothers. The cause of her injury was on her last jump her chute got caught in a nearby tree and it nearly dislocation her shoulder.

Her team was of little help as they attempted to get her out of the tree because they were laughing too hard. They thought she looked like an angry hat held by the scruff of her neck. She agreed with them and she knew wasn't going to live that one down. Yet, she still insisted she was fine but the doc threatened a restraining order if she didn't get at least couple days of rest.

However an injury wouldn't stop her from watching the fire from afar and keeping track of its progress. It was the least she could do and still feel like she was helping. She slid off the truck hood and opened the passenger door to grab her set of binoculars. An operator on the radio said another fire plane was coming in from the south and she wanted to see where it was going.

Towering smoke columns rose into view and they looked like something right out of an apocalyptic story. They were a pale, dead-fleshy pink mixed with orange and red; nothing like typical thunderclouds. Ash drifted on the wind to her location like radioactive fallout as the forest burned. In between the behemoth clouds, she saw red and white fire planes skirting above the mountain face; their bellies ladened with fire retardant meant to quench the hungry flames.

"They're not watching out for the gully," Kennedy muttered to herself. The plane was coming in from a different direction than what she was expecting. "Even though the maps says there isn't anything up that canyon, the rangers should know there's a couple buildings hidden up there."

A gush of red powder fell from the belly of the plane as it coasted above the trees on the north end of the slopes. However, the big plane pulled out of the canyon leaving it dust-free of retardant. Its tanks were empty and it banked between another column of smoke before heading south on the tails of a smaller aircraft to refuel.

On the other crest of the mountain, Kennedy saw the harsh glimmer of flames making their way down the canyon slopes. It looked like the fire chiefs were going to focus their attention elsewhere, preferably the small town a few miles south of the blaze, and let the canyon burn.

She pulled her binoculars away and thought. Something was nagging on her to remember why canyon was important. There were a couple buildings up there, but what were they again?

Going over to the passenger door of the truck, she dug into the glove box. She searched around until she found the area journal she had stashed there earlier. She thumbed through and looked at the hand-drawn maps she had created with notes of the surrounding areas. She kept track of sheds and smaller buildings not seen from aerial photographs and also the location of animal pastures, difficult terrain, and hiking trails.

She flipped to the pages of the particular canyon she was concerned about. She had noted that there was a long road leading up to a plateau where the surrounding trees had been cut down in a long strip wider than a fire break. Written below her account was: Radio tower on mountain top and tight security with chainlink fence. Long airfield as well. No records at the county office stating exactly what this is. The public does not know about this. Possible secret base.

She propped herself against the side door with her finger tapping against the pages as she watched the disaster unfold in front of her. Maybe the area had been evacuated, but it the county didn't know about it then they wouldn't have sent the police up to direct the evacuation. She knew alert systems were still limited since there wasn't a wide range message they could sent out to everyone on their personal devices when they all had landlines still. Especially here mountain communities where the service was bad.

She tucked a loose piece of blond hair behind her ear when the wind shifted. The flames on the mountain slope glowed brighter and the radio screeched again with new life. The fire crews in the planes had finally taken note of the buildings up the canyon. They were especially concerned when they saw a couple of vehicles leaving the compound as the blaze jumped across the canyon. They knew it to be a dead end and there still might be people up the there.

Kennedy watched the radio out of the corner of her eye as she listened. Come on, come on. Make the call. Please, make the call, she thought.

"I am calling it in! Codename: Blare Rose," the radio declared.

"No. No! We can't call her in, she's off duty. Recent injury report," replied another operator.

"That won't stop her. She'll be there if we need her. No one else can make the jump and get the job done."

"Rescue teams have been dispatched. They're having trouble making the trip up the canyon road. Recent evacuees say there may still be people caught up in the canyon," another operator supplied.

A beat of silence then another voice spoke. "We'll have to hope they made it out safely. There isn't much we can do. All forces need to focus on the fire line heading south. There is a level A alarm in…"

Immediately, her clunky cell phone rang from the console of the truck. Kennedy leaned in and picked it up before skirting around to the driver's side of the vehicle.

"JR! Yeah, I just heard the call. No, nothing will stop me. It sounds like this is just the mission for us."

JR asked her if she knew where they were going.

"I have an idea what may be up there," She tossed in the maps on the back seat and started the truck. "Ready the plane. I will be there in five minutes."

Seconds later, a white tuck peeled away from the overlook and sped down the dirt highway leaving a trail of dust to follow. Blare Rose was one the way without a moment to lose.

Not even twenty minutes later, Kennedy was up in the air in a small parachute plane. The small aircraft rattled and roared as they neared the Wednesday fire. JR Hatch was a friend and fellow pilot of Kennedy's and he was used to flying her for her missions — with or without her team. He piloted the white craft through the towering smoke columns and crowded airspace. His steeling cool fingers didn't even waver on the throttled when the violent updrafts pushed them around.

"Airspace control, this is Blare Rose reporting for duty. Our goal is not to get in the way of the fire planes. Let us know their paths and we will stay out of the way," radioed in JR over his headset.

Kennedy was behind his seat checking her gear half listening. She tightened her helmet chin strap and took one more look over her smokejumper gear before settling her goggles on her face. Everything was in order including the disassembled chainsaw and camel water pack. She was locked and loaded for fire and rescue operations.

"How we looking, JR?" she shouted over the prop of the plane.

"All is good! We've been given the clear and are nearing the drop zone," he said. He flipped a few more controls on the craft and brought the plane up to the adequate jumping height. "Scouting planes have noticed an airbase of some sort up the canyon. It still looks like there are some people caught up there. They can't fly in the choppers for rescue yet because they're still an hour or two out."

"Ok. We still have our window," she nodded and unclipped herself from the safety line. "You know the drill, Hatch. This will be a standard procedure for Blare Rose. I will radio in when I land and find the base. Channel 2," she instructed holding up two fingers.

JR threw a thumbs up over his shoulder and flipped on the jump light. Kennedy pulled open the sliding door and situated herself as the flaming mountain range came into view. In the distance, she could see the mysterious landing strip she was aiming for in the hazy sky.

"Ready for jump in three… two… one!"

She tumbled out of the plane with nothing below her except air. It was hot and sharp against her cheeks as it roared in her ears. Turning around on her back, she watched JR bank the plane as it got smaller and smaller as she fell. She tapped the altitude meter on her wrist and counted the seconds as righted herself to face the hellish landscape below her.

There were no words to describe it except the mountain range boiled and festered. Angry flames bled like wounds over the scorched flesh of once-green mountain forests. Smoke and haze covered the mountain like a shroud, dampening the sun's light and making everything look brown and red. She liked to think that this is what it would look like diving head first into a volcano, minus the explosions and molten rock.

The mountain range came up quicker than she expected. In no time, she pulled her chute and maneuvered along the forested slopes where the fire wasn't burning. Unexpectedly, the wind buffeted and nearly yanked the ropes of the chute out of her hands. It put her off course to not land directly on the air strip of the base and she had to quickly find an open clearing in the trees. It wasn't ideal but it was the best she could do in these conditions.

Landing this time wasn't a problem for her. There were no trees around in the wide meadow just downwind of the base. She touched down softly and immediately began to pack up for the hike. She dropped the heavy backpack attached to her front with all her gear and hastily started to fold her chute.

Already her gear was lighter than what she had done in previous times. She had jumped without the usual sleeping pack and food rations a normal smokejumper would have. Smokejumpers were expected to spend days in rough terrain fighting fires and preparing fire breakers where the usual crews couldn't reach. Sometimes that meant spending a night or two until the job was done before they would be picked up and redeployed.

Her mission today was to get in where the other crews could not and help the evacuees bunker down or fight their way out of the blaze. If there was no one there, she'd do her best to save what she could. Without a moment to lose, she packed up her parachute and slung the bag over her shoulders. She was dressed in her hotshot gear with her chainsaw and radio in hand.

"Channel 2, this is Blare Rose," said Kennedy into the shortwave radio. "I have made touchdown."

"Copy that, Blare Rose. Good luck out there," came JR's reply.

"Thanks, I'm going to need all the luck I can get," she radioed back. She clipped in the radio and was about to take off at a sprint when a great rumbling roar soared over head.

The only warning she got was a shadow before a plume of fire retardant poured over her. The world turned red for a moment and Kennedy was thankful she covered her face in time. When she blinked past the dust, the meadow and surrounding trees around her were covered in a fine red mist. The red stood out like a stroke of harsh paint on the dry plants and ground.

She coughed and fanned the annoying stuff away from her face. "Great, at least for sure I won't catch on fire," she stumbled past the red snow and grumbled at her soiled clothes. "I was hoping to not get dirty just yet."

She brushed off her arms, trying to dislodge the powder, but it only smeared it further into the fabric. She knew she looked like something out of a horror film with her tan uniform now red. She could even feel the powder in her ears and her hair. It was sneaking down the collar of her shirt.

However it didn't matter. She'd been through worst, she had a job to do. Kennedy slung the chainsaw over her shoulder with her arm looped around the covered blade to counter balance it. She took notice of her marker in the distance and headed off at a brisk jog over the rugged terrain.

~oOo~

SHIELD Agent Bennington was beginning to regret sending the planes away when they caught word of the Wednesday fire nearing their location. Most of the base's personnel had left on the planes while he and a few other men stayed back to finish locking everything down. He knew they could certainly have used an air evac right about now. Especially when the flames cresting the mountain peaks around them.

He had only about fourteen men left and they were at lost of what to do. Their only route of escape had been cut off in the canyon and they were instructed to leave with the rest of their gear incase the base burned down. The camera feeds showed the hellish wildfire making its way up the road and none of the fire crews were fighting it. They were trapped with no where to go.

Again, Bennington cursed SHIELDs desire keep this base off the county records. He knew if they had been warned a few hours earlier they wouldn't be in this position.

"Agent Bennington!" called another agent from across the tarmac. A man with a radio in hand jogged over to him and he looked a bit out of breath but excited nonetheless."The fire crews radioed in and said that something, or someone, codenamed Blare Rose is on the way. They are going to help evacuate us out of here!"

Well that was the best news he had heard in the last forty minutes.

"Where are they coming in from?" he asked. "No one can make it up the canyon and our quinjets are hours out."

"They are parachuting in, sir."

Bennington's brows shot up. "Well, it's not the air evac I wanted but we will take what we can get. Let's keep our eyes peeled then, right agent?"

Both men turned to look to the sky when they heard a prop plane fly overhead. It banked over the base and they followed its trajectory as it passed a yellow and black object dropping from the sky. For a moment, it looked like the parachute was coming this way, but the wind buffeted it in another direction. It dropped behind the trees about half a mile out.

"Agent Gomez, I want you to keep an eye out for that jumper. Let me know the moment they set foot on this base. And keep your eyes peeled for more chutes," instructed Agent Bennington. Agent Gomez nodded to his superior officer and took off towards the outlook tower with a radio in one hand and his eyes glued to the sky.

They just might make it out of here all right, Bennington thought. Bless the souls of those brave smokejumpers.

Now if he understood anything about fire fighting, he needed to find a snowplow and some chainsaws. Finally with a new task at hand, he had something to do. He could save his men and their base.

Edited: May 5, 2019