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

moulded in his own image: fast, inventive, clandestine and invariably deadly. David Graham’s kinsman had become a legend in his lifetime.
    â€œIt can’t be allowed to happen.” His rasping voice, weakened by age, still had the power to arrest.
    Jazz and pleasure were abandoned and the eyes of the small group fixed on him.
    â€œWhat can’t, Archie?” Malcolm asked.
    â€œWe fought against the Nazis and we would have fought against the Soviets if we’d had any strength left. Now the commies are stirring up trouble right inside our own unions and this spineless government, utterly compromised by its socialist mumbo-jumbo, is watching the country fall apart around it.”
    Archibald did not expect any dissent, or interruption. He painstakingly prepared his cigar with the same care he had once applied to explosive charges, oblivious to everything but what he was doing. Satisfied, he drew it alight, savouring its rich incense.
    â€œYou see, the tactic is simple. First, you sow the seeds of confusion. In pre-revolutionary France and later, Russia, weak government was made to look even weaker by the covert actions of the revolutionaries. And as you know, I understand something about covert activities.”
    That was his cue to allow everyone some gentle comradely laughter and all willingly obliged as he filled his glass and passed the decanter on.
    â€œThe government of the Weimar Republic that took power in Germany after the First World War was, in many ways, highlycompetent. Even though the country was divided between a left pushing for full communism and a right wanting strong authoritarian leadership, the government managed to hold the ring. Between 1924 and 1929 things were even looking up. The brutal WWI peace terms had been renegotiated and with the help of American loans, the economy was growing again and extremism began to fade.”
    Reading their minds he then said with a twinkle, “You probably wonder how a soldier has come to know these things.”
    Indulgent nods and head shakes accompanied supportive mutterings as the decanter moved slowly from hand to hand.
    â€œWell you see covert activities are most effective when the circumstances are right. Who said that one flap of a butterfly’s wings could change history?” He paused briefly, not really expecting an answer. “I forget, but no matter. The point is that when conditions become unstable the impact of covert activities is magnified.”
    David Graham rose and collected the box of Romeo y Julietas from the sideboard and placed it on the table for anyone interested. Malcolm reached over and helped himself, having declined the butler’s offer initially, uncertain as to whether he really liked cigars or not.
    â€œBut back to the Weimar Republic,” Archibald continued. “As I said, after 1924 things started to go pretty well. Popular culture replaced street violence and the American-born singer, Josephine Baker, who I am pleased to report wore little more than some bananas for one memorable act, was declared an erotic goddess.”
    Too much history after dinner could be a burden and relieved approval greeted the image of the banana dancer. But the old soldier had lured them into an ambush. He brought the flat of his hand down on the table-top with a thump and a thunderous ‘Wham!’ that startled even the acerbic Frank, who was not prone to shows of emotion.
    â€œBut then came the stock market crash in America, the withdrawal of loans to Germany and the onset of the Great Depression. You all know the rest. Hitler’s hoodlums stirred it up something rotten,blaming the poor bloody Jews for everything and by 1933 he had been made Chancellor and his shell-shocked people had given him more or less absolute power.”
    Allowing all this to sink in, he took a little port and then drew on his cigar.
    â€œWe mustn’t let it happen here.” His stipulation seemed the more powerful