"What about all the others in your team?"

"Jack and Tom have love affairs with whichever holiday reps are put on the island for the summer. These poor girls go back home after the season thinking they've found love or the right *one' only to find that the next time they ring they've been dumped."

"And what about you Natalie. Have you ever found the right one?"

"I've never really looked. I've had relationships. They've all ended. None ever really serious. My career has always gotten in the way."

Dennis looked out over the water.

"Mine too. I've never stayed in any one place long enough."

"There must have been someone, somewhere."

"Oh a few. Here, there, just casual flings like yourself, nothing serious."

Then suddenly, quite unexpectedly, he turned to her and said.

"I must admit Natalie I think I'm falling for you."

This came as a shock to her.

"What? What did you say?"

Dennis hadn't meant to say it. It had just slipped out.

"Ia.I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry. Please excuse me."

She reached out and touched his arm.

"No really, I'm glad you did."

Their eyes met. Then he was coming in. His lips slightly apart. His eyes on her lips. They were full, sensuous. Her heart was thumping. Her eyes closed. The kiss sent tingles down her spine. They were about to embrace when a voice from behind said.

"Now here we are."

It was Hutchinson. In his hands a tray of sandwiches, wraps and coffee. Natalie and Dennis smiled, embarrassed, at each other.

"I've bought us a selection of sandwiches. There is beef, chicken, cheese. I think that one on the end is turkey. Help yourselves. Natalie and Dennis thanked him and took a sandwich each.

"Grab yourselves a coffee too. George is bringing over bottles of water."

"Thank you Jim," Natalie said.

She looked out over the port at the various docked vessels. There was one Greek cruise ship, ferries for the island of Djerba, one very old naval vessel, a gift from the British government. It was in desperate need of a refit and repair. Tunisian naval vessels, much smaller than their British naval counterpart. Various fishing ships, having returned from night fishing, their crews working frantically to unload their catch for the early morning markets. Alone at the far end was a large ship painted white with Russian writing at its bow. At its stern a large crane.

"Our ship, the Volante, is the white one moored away from the others," Hutchinson told them. He had put the tray down and was now unrolling himself a wrap. He placed his coffee on the roof of the people carrier.

"We're just waiting for the port authorities to check our passports. They'll return them after photocopying and then we can move over to the ship. The crew are already on board. They all speak English but how well I don't know but they're there to assist you in any way they can so feel free to ask them for anything," Hutchinson stopped as he glanced around and saw a man in naval uniform approaching carrying a large white envelope, "If you'll excuse me for a moment," Hutchinson walked off to meet the customs man halfway.

Dennis whistled at the size of the research ship. It was easily over a hundred feet long.

"He doesn't do anything by halves does he. How much does that cost to hire a day?"

"Oh you mustn't worry yourself about things like that Mr Dennis," Natalie said "The institute pays for everything, even those sandwiches we've just had."

"I'm not worried. I'm justa.I guess I'm starting to realise for the first time just the scale of this venture."

"That surprises me considering you wrote that article on it."

"I know," he said feeling foolish, "I didn't mean that it's just," he was struggling to explain himself, standing there by the waters edge, "Do you realise that I could be standing in the very same spot my grandfather stood in with the German Colonel all those years ago."

He moved a few feet to his left.

"Or could it have been here or here or maybe where you're standing."

Dennis stopped talking. He tried to imagine the scene. His eyes closed. The sound of gunfire. The British storming the Medina. The final showdown. Johnny Larder there somewhere, where the warehouses now stood, on the ground next to Koenig. That madman Wurtz standing over them. Johnny and Koenig staring down the SS Major's gun barrel, staring into death. *Then miraculously my grandfather saving them with seconds to spare'

"I'm sorry what did you say?"

"I asked you if the German Colonel is still alive."

"No he's not. I was able to do some research on him. It was very brief. There were so many officers on both sides. It's only the really famous ones who can be found in search engines. The Colonel was a Hans Koenig serving directly under a General Von Brockhorst. There was lots of information on him, the General. He served a General Hans Jurgen Von Arnim. He was Field Marshall Rommel's number one. The leader of the archaeological team was a Werner Von Brest, Doctor Werner Von Brest. I found lots on him. He was Hitler's personal friend. The top archaeologist of his generation according to the internet. He is listed as being killed in the battle for Gabes, Tunisia. He actually went down with the ship we are looking for. The Colonel, Hans Koenig, I was surprisingly able to find some information on him also. He returned to Germany in 1947 after being held prisoner until the end of the war. He became a schoolteacher and then quickly became headmaster. Tragically his life was cut short in 1952 when he was killed in a car accident. The rest of the captured Germans knew nothing about the identity of the sarcophagus. After Koenig's death my grandfather was the only survivor to know. He told me on his death bed that he'd never spoken of it ever again. You see my grandfather wasn't interested in history. He didn't properly understand the importance of what the Germans had found. He told me he thought Alexander was a Roman or something."

Natalie giggled into her hand.

"Oh excuse me, I'm sorry, I don't mean to make fun."

"That's all right. He was quite naive about certain things. I guess this was one of them at the time."

"Bless him."

"Yes," Dennis said remembering Alf, "You know," he continued, "When someone special dies, at the time the pain can sometimes be unbearable and then as time goes by and the sorrow eases you find you just love them, that person, for who they really were."

For a moment Natalie thought she saw a tear in the corner of his eye.

"Hey," she said turning to face him, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you."

"You haven't. I didn't see him often in his last years. My work always got in my way. Journalism does that to family life. I spent some years as a war correspondent in the middle east."

"Wow. Did you see much fighting?"

Dennis undid his right shirt sleeve and rolled it up to reveal his elbow. A large surgical scar ran from his triceps to the start of his forearm. She gently touched the skin.

"Ouch!"

"Car bomb in Jerusalem ripped my arm open. I lost a lot of blood but I was luckya."

"Lucky?"

"Yes. My cameraman was killed in the attack. He inadvertently shielded me from the blast."

"That's terrible."

"Like I said," Dennis pulled the sleeve down and buttoned it up the wrist, "I was lucky."

"When did that happen?"

"Three years ago. Eight were killed in the blast. Fourteen more wounded."

"I think I remember seeing it on the news."

"After that I decided to get out. I convalesced back in England. When I fully recovered I achieved an ambition I'd had for a long time. My editor in London arranged for me to train with British special forces for a book we published together. I had a great four weeks with those men. I wasn't allowed to reveal names for obvious reasons. Four weeks in winter in Wales. They were the toughest men I've ever met."

"It sounds like you had fun."

"It was incredible. You sometimes had no food and you were told to go and find it."

"Like a McDonalds you mean," she said laughing.

Dennis chuckled with her.

"No. What they called real food."

"Like deer or rabbit."

"Yes and worse. Sometimes you had to turn over stones."

She looked at him in disgust now.

"Are you serious?"

"Yep," he said, "Worms."

She put her hand over her mouth.

"Worm omelettes," he said.

"Oh shut up! You're making me feel sick!"

Then a thought crossed her mind and she very nearly was sick.

'Oh God! I've just kissed him'

She had to stop herself from vomiting. When she could take her hand away she fanned her face with it.

"Seriously please, shut up! It's disgusting!"

"Not if you want to survive it's not."

"Really it is. I couldn't bring myself to do it."

"Oh it wasn't that bad. I must admit I've seen them wriggling about since and probably couldn't do it again. But when you're surrounded by tough, fighting, men who are laughing at you for hesitating, wella." He threw his arms out to the sides, "You've just got to do it. Still one thing they did do was teach me to fire every weapon they had. Turns out I'm quite a good shot too."

"George would keep a gun if I let him."

"I take it you don't approve."

"There is no need for them."

"Boys and their toys huh!"

"Yes. But as far as my work goes there is no use for them. Some of the sites I've worked on in Egypt have had armed guards but never near the archaeologists themselves."

"They must be man's worst invention right."

"No that would be cigarettes."

"Ah I thought I saw disapproval when George was smoking near you."

"To be honest I hate it. But most men in the Mediterranean world smoke and to be honest I can't make personal choices for him. He knows I don't like it and he does stay away from me when he smokes."

"You're his boss, surely you could forbid him."

"Sorry I don't believe I have the right."

"My grandfather used to smoke but of course most if not all soldiers during the second world war did. They didn't have much else in the way of luxuries. It would be almost another forty years before he would give up."

"What did he die of? Sorry if that's not personal. Well it isa.Ia.Sorry," Natalie fell silent, embarrassed.

"Many things, Emphysemia, Angina, taking a bullet through his shoulder probably didn't help bless him. They said at the time that his lungs weren't injured but he suffered with his breathing in old age. Did I mention he was ninety when he dieda."

She shook her head.

"a.And just old age. He worked hard all his life to provide for his wife and four children and many grandchildren. I am the second oldest. There are ten of us and now five great grandchildren," Dennis paused for a moment staring out to sea, "I only hope we make him proud," he continued looking up at the heavens, "Because we are so proud of him."

They both sensed Hutchinson returning.

"We've got our port clearances," he said handing back their passports. Natalie opened hers at the photo page, looked again as she recognised Dennis in the picture and offered it to him.

"I think this may be yours," she said.

He checked the one he was holding.

"My hair has never been that long," he said giving her hers.

"Are we leaving Tunisian waters Jim?"

"No Peter it's just routine that they check all on board have current passports. Everything is in order. Everyone to me please."