Chapter 33 in the serialisation of the book 'Insurrection' 4th book in the 'Corpalism' series

33

Leadership requires the courage to make decisions
that will benefit the next generation
Alan Autry


After Mackie left a general debate started.

"What in heaven’s name was that all about?" demanded Bill, his face a picture of incredulity, "And what on God’s good green earth are we meant to do with… him?" He gestured towards the slumped figure of the erstwhile Bob.

"Yes, what was that? Did that man just kill him?" said Val, her hand hovering near her mouth, she looked like she was about to cry.

"Of course he did," said Wilf, all matter of fact, "probably cyanide I shouldn't wonder," he added getting close enough to Bob to sniff the air around him, and nodding gently to himself.

"Who was he, Mags?" asked Ken, hastening to Val’s side, "How does he know you so well?"

Nobby, Gerry and Lenny were now bent over Bob's slumped body. Nobby poked him, "Shiiiit!" said Lenny, "this is for real."

"What was that all about?" said Dave, "I mean seriously did we just witness a murder?"

"I need a sit down," moaned Frank, struggling back to his seat.

"What are we meant to do now?" said Fiona, "We can't dig a hole here, the warden would notice. How are we going to get rid of Bob?"

"My thoughts exactly," said Pete, "But I can't dig a hole, not with my back. Who does that Mackie think he is? He comes here without a by your leave and murders someone right in front of us, that was....that was....."

"Goodness knows who he is," added Val, "or if he's really from MI6."

"Yes," agreed Ken, "how on earth are we to know if what he says is true."

"All right everyone, just calm down and take a seat," said Alb, "and we'll explain."

"Oh, it's alright for you, Albert Rayner," said Fiona, "you think you're in charge, well look where it's got us, accessories to murder."

"It wasn't murder," stated Mags, "it was self defence."

"Self defence," blurted Val, her voice rising, "self defence?"

"Self-defence. Because if we'd let Bob go then we'd all be dead within 24 hours, probably a fire or something. Oh, and don't worry about the body by the way, it's all in hand."

"All in hand?" repeated Val sarcastically, "Who do you think you are?"

"And why the hell did that Mackie fellow bring him here?" asked Dave.

"I asked Mackie to help us," said Mags.

"And who gave you that authority?" demanded Cynthia. "To go around inviting whomsoever you like to our little chats."

"They are not 'little chats'," Alb was getting fretful; he needed to think and plan and talking them through this sticky patch was taxing in the extreme, "this is for real, and stop bloody moaning about Bob everyone. What did you think Gerry and I were talking about, eh? Did you think it was just Rose Garden patter for old duffers? Well it wasn't, we're deadly serious."

"Deadly serious," added Gerry. He was secretly amazed to have survived the high drama, his blood pressure was falling and he felt quite good about himself.

"Well, we can see that now, although you had little enough to say in there," said Frank.

"Maybe it's for the best then," said Jonesey, "at least we all understand the stakes involved."

"Exactly," said Wilf, giving the faint hearts his most deathly stare.

"Now you all need to take a seat and we'll explain where we are," said Alb.

"I don't know that I want to be a part of this, this murder thing of yours, Albert," said Fiona.

"It's not a murder thing," Gerry retorted, "haven't you been listening? It's a last ditch attempt to save England from being overrun by foreigners."

"It actually sounded like he was saying that our leaders are busy dismantling the country," said Esmé, "that's not what he meant, is it?"

"Just take a seat everyone," said Mags, "and I'll try and explain."

"Take a seat," moaned Cynthia, to Val, "there she goes again, old Bossy socks herself, why doesn't someone tell her to take a seat."

"Sit down everyone," ordered Wilf as he filched the bottle of Scotch and Mackie's glass from the coffee table. He checked the bottle, still a fair bit left; he could have a lot of fun with that. He slowly made his way back to his seat and the eagerly waiting Jonesey, Harry and Dave. Only the one glass though, so not sure what they were looking so happy about.

"I need the toilet first," said Sticky.

"And me," added Lenny.

"Oh and me," said Esmé followed by a general chorus.

"Well, okay, okay," said Alb, wanting desperately to go himself but refusing to look weak. "everyone go to the toilet, then hurry back here."

"I'm not hurrying anywhere," said Cynthia, "and especially not for you."

"What say we meet back here in half hour?" said Wilf, dipping out the door, still clutching the bottle and closely followed by Dave, Jonesey, Harry and now Frank.

"What a good idea," said Val, "come on Ken, let's get some fresh air."

Ken beamed, he knew what 'fresh air' meant and he knew they wouldn't be going outside to get it.

"Okay then," said Alb to everyone's departing backs, "we'll have a half hour break and then meet back here, say at......" He glanced at his watch, then looked up. The room was empty.

∞

Forty five minutes later Alb, Gerry and Mags were still waiting, trying not to stare at the motionless Bob. Mackie had said he'd arrange the disposal but for the time being they'd draped the body in an old tablecloth. It still looked like what it was but it was more discreet.

"Do you think they got the time wrong?" asked Gerry.

"Either that or they found the whole thing too hot to handle," said Mags.

Alb and Gerry shared a nervous glance. "What if they've gone to the authorities?" asked Gerry.

"They wouldn't do that, they're in it as deep as we are," said Mags firmly.

"They might decide to have nothing more to do with us though," said Alb, "feelings might run a bit high or they might just be awkward for us to be around."

"I don't want to have to move out," moaned Gerry.

"Oh for Christ's sake," snapped Alb, "this is far more serious than that, this is about trying to save what's left of our country from the invading hordes."

Just then they heard chattering voices as everyone started milling back to their original seats. Alb and Gerry beamed at one another, it was all working out, they'd actually returned even though Bob had been killed in front of them, "Now we're cooking," said Alb.

When everyone was in their seats Mags took the floor, "Okay who's first?"

There was a general kerfuffle as everyone spoke at once but Mags raised her voice, "Okay, hands in the air and I'll go around the room. Bill, your question?"

"Who was that and was he really from MI6?"

"That was Mackie, Sir Robert Alexander MacDonald to give his full name and title, and yes he was at MI6, and very high up as well."

"How do you know him?" asked Frank, "Were you at MI6 as well?"

"Yes I was." She couldn't help puffing herself up slightly as she pointed to Wilf, "next question?"

"Forget all that bollocks," said Wilf, slurring happily, "just explain the Belch...Bilch...Bals the new world order rubbish."

"It's really simple, we tend to view the world as nations, as different countries, but to the rich elite these individual nations no longer exist, they no longer count. They see the world as an amorphous whole and they use the natural resources," at which point she indicated those present, "of the world to maintain their wealth."

"You mean that the rich in this country are part of this Bilder thing set up?" asked Harry.

"That's right, Harry, the richest people in the world act together, they control companies and governments and manipulate peoples to achieve more for themselves and their associates, they're like a royal mafia and they use the resources of nations to realise greater wealth for themselves."

"But what about our politicians?" asked Cynthia, "Don't they try and stop them?"

"Come on, Cynthia," said Mags, "our democracy has always been based on the premise that only those with a stake in the national wealth have a right to determine what the country does. Well, now that same premise is being applied on a global scale, that's all."

"That's true enough when you see how the Tories have treated us over the years," Ron's voice was bitter from personal experience.

"The rich manipulate the government to create policies that achieve their goals, like cutting taxes, exporting manufacturing to 3rd world countries."

"Running down the NHS," Doris called out.

"But that's not fair," said Ron, "what are we supposed to do about it?"

"You're meant to get on with your lives, watch rubbish on TV and not think about what's happening under your nose," Gerry chipped in, his face again bordering on puce.

"We're not doing that anymore," stated Alb, wobbling to his feet, "we're going on the attack."

"Attack who, you old fool?" said Fiona, "haven't you been listening, there's no-one to attack."

"Don't go saying we're going to attack the foreigners," said Val, "what difference would that make to all of this?"

"Yeah Alb," said Dave, "who can we attack? What can we do?"

"I still think we should attack the foreigners," said Wilf, "especially the Muslims."

"And what about the fast food chains?" demanded Dora and Cynthia together, "something should be done about them."

"I'm with Wilf," said Lenny, "the Muslims have to go; they aren't loyal to this country."

"How could they be?" said Harry, "Our history is Richard the Lion Heart and theirs is Saladin."

"What about Gordon of Khartoum," said Esmé, "my granddad was at Omdurman, you know."

"I had a great, great um...great uncle, I think," said Nobby, "he was killed at Gandamak fighting the Afghans, served with the 44th foot."

"That's right," said Johnno, quite riled up, "Muslim's have always been the enemies of Britain, what has really changed now? Nothing."

"I think we should clean up the streets," said Val, "there are too many yobs around these days."

"Let's not forget the bankers," said Ken, seeing his chance for vengeance slipping away, "they started a lot of today's problems."

"Bankers and politicians," said Sticky, "I've always thought of them as the snotty nosed little teachers pets at school who always wanted to be prefect so they could boss everyone around."

"I don't trust the Americans," said Dora, apropos of nothing, "and I think Bob was a horrid little man, it's jolly good he's dead."

"What about the druggies," said Pete, "something should be done about them, you know."

"Alright, alright," yelled Alb, "everyone just calm down, we can't deal with everything."

"Besides," said Mags, "Mackie said that these things are peripheral, not the source of the problem."

"We need to attack the people who are responsible for this mess, the politicians," said Alb.

"But how?" asked Harry.

"We have a plan," said Gerry, "Oh and by the way, we intend to take out the royals as well."

There was a general gasp followed by, "You can't do that," from Val, shocked almost to tears.

"Why not?" demanded Gerry, "Weren't you listening? The aristocracy and the royals are as much a part of selling us down the river as the bankers."

"And don't forget it all started under the Queen," stated Mags, a trifle wearily.

"I can't believe she would have involved herself with such a thing," said Val indignantly.

"Why not?" demanded Mags, "What makes you think she was any different? She was more concerned with her portfolio than with the wellbeing of this nation, and most royal families are sworn up Bilderberg members."

"Hey, we can sort details later," said Alb, "but first we need a name, so we can go down in history."

∞

The royalist versus republican argument raged for several hours, broken by the need for refreshment and toilet breaks. Part way through proceedings a van had turned up and two men had removed Bob, table cloth and all. This had had the effect of halting all conversation and a few had taken the opportunity to slip back to their apartments. By now, most of those still in the room were exhausted; several had fallen asleep in their chairs. However, Alb and Gerry were still going strong, supported ably by Mags and challenged intermittently by Val, Fiona and Bill.

"So that's settled then, we're going to attack Parliament," said Alb, "at the State Opening."

"We're going to execute every last politician," said Gerry, adding sotto voce, "and the Royals."

"Not the Royals," snapped Fiona and Val in unison.

"We'll get as many of them as we can in that one attack," said Alb.

"Well?" asked Gerry, "Any objections?"

There was silence, broken only by a few snores. They still had the majority in the room so technically it was a decision making forum.

"To the name then," said Alb.

"Can we come back to the name?" asked Fiona, "I'm too tired."

"Me too," said Val and Bill in unison.

"Tomorrow morning then, after breakfast, in here," said Alb. 

Cheers

Arun







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