Lost Voyage by Chris Tucker Page B

Island sat on the edge of the harbor and offered many spectacular views of the area. He had lived here for over five years now since he was assigned to his position as Head of Environmental Research for NESA.
    His office was located in downtown Seattle on pier sixty six, but he opted to work from home most of the time, making an appearance at his actual workplace maybe once or twice a week. He had everything he needed here for work and didn’t see the need to get up and make the ferry trip every morning when he could just roll out of bed and work from the comfort of his own dwelling.
    He would make the trip to the Emerald City when Hunt requested it, or if there was a mandatory meeting, but other than that, he had the blessings of his employer to take care of his workload wherever he saw fit to do so. He could access the computer mainframe from the office while in his own study, where he spent most of his day anyway, and he had never failed to deliver results up to this point.
    He had just finished reading an email from his employer discussing the events that had taken place in Nicaragua, informing him that Mercer and Vigil would be staying behind to finish gathering samples, when his phone rang.
    Dallas didn’t recognize the number on his caller ID, but decided to answer it anyway since it would most likely be work related at this time of day. He did, however, instantly identify the voice on the other end once he heard it.
    Dallas replied cheerfully, “Sean, my friend. I was just reading an email from the Colonel about your findings. How are you?”
    “I’m good, Dallas. Thank you. Pat and I are just wrapping up down here.”
    Dallas had a concerned tone in his voice. “Is everything okay down there? I hope you guys aren’t in any danger.”
    Mercer assured him, “We’re fine, old friend. Pat and I decided to stay behind and finish up. There was no sense in having anyone else here in case trouble started brewing. Besides, Pat’s a big boy. He can handle himself if need be.”
    Dallas’ tone became more playful after being guaranteed by his friend that all was well. “Well, I have no doubts you can take care of yourselves, but Pat still owes me fifty dollars from the last time we played poker. It would be a shame to not be able to collect.”
    They both shared a laugh before Dallas continued, “But in all seriousness, please take care of yourselves.”
    “Will do,” Mercer said, still laughing. “And I’ll make sure he personally delivers that fifty bucks. I actually have another reason for calling. I stumbled upon something down here and I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind doing a little research for me.”
    “Anything at all. Just name it.”
    Over the next few minutes, Mercer described the port log and the name of the ship which may have been lost during the volcanic eruption. Dallas told him he would get right on it, and that he should have some information by the end of the day.
     
    ***
     
    Mercer and Vigil arrived at Lake Managua in the early afternoon. They were in awe as they looked up at Mount Momotombo from the shore at such a short distance.
    There were a few people wading in the shallow waters on the edge of the lake. Some children were splashing water at each other, while others just sat in the sand and patchy grass on the shore.
    After talking to Mendoza for most of the morning, both men were eager to search for the original town of Tamarindo. Colonel Hunt had already sent a few members of the team to gather samples from the lake a few days earlier, so Mercer felt no need to collect any further data from the water at this spot.
    Mendoza had told them exactly where the old town was built, but Mercer wanted to come in from the river entrance to try and pinpoint the flow of the blast and follow the wave of its destruction. After taking in the beauty of the lake, they got back in the NESA Jeep and headed inland. It was a fairly quick five mile trip, which took them to the site where the