‘We’re running out of time,’ said the wiry youth as he looked out over an increasingly choppy incoming tide from his vantage point at the edge of the cliff. ‘I reckon we’ve less than ten minutes until the rendezvous.’ ‘We better get down there,’ Pedro instructed his three compatriots. They slung their weapons over their shoulders and, with the aid of a single head torch, squeezed into the narrow crevice in the rocks and into the tunnel below. Progress was slow as they followed the markings painted on the rock face.&...