Sly met the racing Peleliu before he ran out of fuel, but it was a close thing.
The high load and heavy wave action had combined to chew up almost nine thousand gallons of fuel. If Gail hadn’t connected that they could refuel at the airport, a real Duh! moment for him, and Michael hadn’t braved the mob to steal the fuel truck, it would have been a disaster. They’d have been ditched miles out to sea in weather bad enough to swamp them and possibly sink them.
As it was, he made it up the steel beach, inside the Peleliu, and managed to settle the hovercraft down. The buck and roll of the ship was enough to slap him side to side of the Well Deck, but they were home. The passengers were safe; at least the ones who’d survived the journey.
He collapsed back in his seat and peeled his helmet as
