CHAPTER 52
RICK HAD PUT in six years as a Navy SEAL. He knew his way around the water in hazardous conditions and could drive a boat like he was born to it. He’d spent hours walking the marina, pondering the possibilities. Wrinkling his nose against the odoriferous cocktail of ozone, sulphur, and hot mud, he looked out over the debris-strewn water.
The lahars had dumped tons of mud, rock, and garbage into the Sound, dislodging whole trees, bridges, and lumberyards full of logs. Travel by boat would be a suicide mission and he knew it, but he had been trained to succeed at all costs and he was running out of options. His biggest problem now was that he didn’t own a boat and no one he’d spoken with was willing to loan theirs out.
He was contemplating theft when another thought occurred to
