Anything that might've been left behind when the lighthouse blew is long gone by now. On the other hand, there's always the chance that hissing chowderhead will send one of us a mail bomb and do the hard work for us.

[He remarks, ever so dry.]

In the meantime, I'll scout around and see if I can make some guesses about what they might be using. Breakfast on me when you get back? It's the least I can do for sparing me forty-eight earplug-less hours in close proximity with Gordon.