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A stack of fuel drums shines in the low sun, and somebody has been looking for it.
Raiders come in off the water at Tinao and put a stick into the only fuel stack on Tolonga. Chief Doran's crew saves most of it, and Doran orders every drum rolled into the scrub and dug in singly so the beach never shows a target again. It makes the fuel safe and every gallon slow, on an island where the road is cut and the hospital and the squadron both run on gasoline.
Phelps, who runs the island's water, finds fuel soaking into the water table and knows what that means. Now Doran needs him to build a fuel line through the mangrove from pipe and hose made for water, on an island with no spare bearings, where any pump that stops stays stopped.
