Read Online The Storytellers by Robert Mercer-Nairne - Free Book Online

succession of ‘depends’.”
    Marx looked concerned.
    Seeing that his companion was unimpressed by the odds, Peter Betsworth added, “I’m told that the lady who now heads up the Conservative Party is nothing if not steely, so that is one down.”
    â€œFatcher?”
    â€œYes, Margaret Thatcher.”
    â€œI’m worken fer a skirt then?”
    â€œIndirectly, I suppose you are – a skirt with an idea.”
    One of the few things Marx had remembered from school was the story of Joan of Arc. He even remembered having a fancy for her, so the idea of helping a woman fight for her nation’s honour against weak, self-interested countrymen rubbed him the right way.
    â€œFair enough,” he acknowledged, to his handler’s evident relief, and reaching inside the slim satchel he had brought along, extracted five handwritten pages.
    â€œHere’s me report. The brothers believe they yav capitalism on the run.”
    â€œOne can but hope!”
    â€œThat they does or that they fink they does?”
    Once again Peter Betsworth allowed himself to laugh. He was definitely warming to this agent.
    â€œNow turning from theory to practice,” he said, “there is someone we are interested in. You’ve mentioned him in your intelligence, Jack Pugh. Get close to him. Encourage him. Be his friend. I want to know every little thing about him.”
    * * *
    Marx left the Serpentine café energized. Matters had at last become clear. His mighty mission was to bring down a government – how about that? – and pave the way for a new style of management: everything the Trots, Commies and their assorted agitators were working for. He was on their side. The thought of it! He might even be able to talk to his dad again. As he boarded the train, he could hardly wait to file another report – and to fuck Stacy.

C HAPTER

    J ACK PUGH had never been more excited. He’d joined Militant Tendency in his last year at university and helped to deselect the moderate Labour MP, Reg Prentice, from his Newham North-East constituency: a coveted first scalp. Jack took the Tendency’s mission seriously: to infiltrate the Labour movement in order to promote the Marxist-Leninist agenda from within. While Militant’s control over the Labour Party Young Socialists was not as firm as it had been in 1972, its influence over the shop stewards inside the nation’s leading industries was at an all-time high.
    Finally it was happening. He was sure of it. The tanker drivers had been operating a go-slow since December and now lorry drivers as a whole were on strike and their union, the Transport and General Workers’ Union, had not even authorized it. The Labour Government and its partners in moderation, the union bosses, were in disarray. The potential to bring the nation to its knees had never been greater. There wasn’t a sector that didn’t depend on road transport for some of its supplies. This was the revolution he had dreamed about, the revolution that would bring him power.
    They arrived at the Kingsbury Oil Terminal at first light. Most ofthe fuel used in the Midlands was distributed from the depot, one of the largest in the country. As he approached the first group of pickets he rolled down his window and called across.
    â€œBrothers!”
    His greeting was met with a mixture of suspicious stares and grunts. It had been a cold night.
    â€œIs it tight?” he asked.
    â€œAs a tick’s arse,” came the reply.
    He and his two colleagues drove on to the small office the organizing committee were using and only found Ralf Drydon. The two knew one another and Ralf was pleased to have some company.
    â€œYou know Max, don’t you?” Jack asked.
    â€œWon’t be much for him here, I don’t think,” Ralf proffered, eyeing up the pugilist Jack had brought. “Running like clockwork. Some tea?”
    â€œYes please, while supplies