There was another pause.

“That’s a difficult thing to tell a mayor on a Saturday morning,” Elaine said.

“It would be more difficult to tell seventy families why we waited.”

The director took one breath. “Order approved. I’ll call the mayor myself. Get me status every ten minutes. No unsupervised work on that gate.”

Lena glanced at Frank, who nodded and was already reaching for his radio.

For one brief moment, she allowed herself to feel relief.

Then Tessa spoke again.

“Incident Command, we have a problem. West-district warning siren did not activate on the test command.”

Elaine answered immediately. “Try the backup.”

“No response.”

Lena closed her eyes.

The west-district siren sat atop the old volunteer firehouse, three blocks from Willow Court. People there knew its voice. It had sounded for tornado drills, chemical spills, and once when a high school student accidentally triggered the countywide test. An evacuation order could appear on a phone screen, but many residents still listened for that siren. Some did not own smartphones. Some slept with phones turned off. Some assumed any alert without the siren was a mistake.

“We can’t count on it,” Lena said. “Reverse 911 calls. Fire crews door to door. Sheriff’s loudspeaker vehicles on the west streets. Get the community shuttle companies moving.”

“Already calling,” Tessa said.

Elaine cut in. “Deputy Vale is at your location, correct?”

Vale stood near the doorway, his jacket dark with rain. He had been listening, not moving, his gaze fixed on a spot above the control room’s fire extinguisher.

“He’s here,” Lena said.

“Deputy, this is Director Rhodes. Your supervisor has been informed about the detention. Right now I need you assigned to the Willow Court evacuation. Coordinate with the fire captain. Do not make independent decisions about route safety. Is that understood?”

Vale reached for the radio Lena had handed back to him. “Yes, Director.”

“And Deputy?”

“Ma’am?”

“Your body camera footage gets preserved. Every second.”

“Understood.”

He looked at Lena. She did not look away.

“I’ll go,” he said.

“Good,” she answered. “Be useful.”

Outside, dawn had not yet broken. The rain fell harder. Lena watched Vale drive off toward the neighborhood she had once ridden through on a bicycle with a bent front wheel and a bell that worked only when it felt like it.