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ramp was about a metre above the water and about four metres from the exposed sand of the beach. Alex undid his assault vest, took off his radio and pulled off his boots. He dived over the edge of the ramp into the water. Surfacing, he looked up at the towering beast above him. Its engine was stopped, but he could feel the vibrations of the ship’s generator in his body. He tried to stand. The water was less than half a metre above his head.
    Heinrich had jogged to the end of the ramp. He leaned over the edge and held out his hand, helping Alex back aboard.
    Alex picked up his radio and earpiece. ‘Mermaid Two, Mermaid Two. We need you down here. Now!’
    â€˜
Awesome
,’ cried the high-pitched female voice in his ear.
    Alex looked to the pass through two of the sandhills. The clatter of an old diesel engine and a cloud of black smoke told him Sarah was on her way. He pictured her, grinning madly behind the wheel of the old Series IIA Land Rover.
    Sarah Hoyland was the daughter of a mechanic and she’d had a love affair with engines and cars all her life. She handled a four-by-four in loose sand better than any of them and there was air under all four wheels as Sarah crested a dune, not even bothering with the pass. They were a wild bunch, all right, but Alex loved every one of them – Sarah and Danielle more than the guys, of course. Even Mitch had his moments.
    Danielle, red-haired and freckled, watched from the shelter of her sun tent. The old Land Rover landed with a cloud of sand and wincing creak of leaf springs and ageing shock absorbers. Alex saw Sarah’s dark curls streaming in the breeze. She and Kevin – another self-confessed petrol head – had removed the Land Rover’s hard top and the pair of them had welded to the body the weird-looking array of modifications that might just save the day.
    Behind Sarah was a stout roll bar of tubular steel and in front of her face was nothing, as she had folded the Land Rover’s windscreen down across the bonnet. Rising up from the rear of the open pick-up tray were four long lengths of flat steel ramp, strapped together in pairs, which she and Kevin had cut from a wrecked tilt-bed car-carrying trailer. They protruded forward and above her, like twin prongs. The other modification was a home-made snorkel of PVC water pipe which rose from the engine’s air intake, and out the side of the right front fender. Sarah had secured the towering two-metre extension to the right-hand steel ramp.
    Sarah hit the flat of the beach and gunned the engine. ‘Yee-hah!’ she screamed as she straightened and aimed for the rear of the ship, which loomed high in front of her, casting a shadow up the beach.
    â€˜She is mad that woman,’ Heinrich said.
    Alex nodded to the German, and held his breath.
    A bow wave flew up as the Land Rover entered the water. Sarah’sgreen eyes blazed and she looked up and flashed Alex a broad, wild smile as the vehicle, then her face, disappeared below the surface of the water.
    The leading edges of the steel ramps edged closer and closer to the lip of the drawbridge at the side of the ship. ‘Come on, come on. That’s my girl,’ Alex whispered.
    â€˜I thought Danielle was your girl this week?’ Heinrich winked, but Alex ignored the jibe.
    Heinrich took a step back as the ramps connected with the ship’s steel with an ear-piercing grate and clang. The Land Rover’s snorkel was still clear of the water and bubbles showed its engine was still running.
    Alex jumped in the water again and swam to the shallows. He unfastened a tie-down strap which held the pairs of ramps together. He slid one length free and when he pulled it towards the shoreline and locked it in place with its mate – via a simple peg and hole arrangement – the makeshift ramp nearly reached dry sand. He looked to where the front of the vehicle was, but there was no sign of Sarah.
    â€˜Shit,’ he