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“So this new group…” “New group?” “The English Liberation Front.” “Never heard of them, it sounds like a job for Exie 3-C.” “No, Exie 3-C handles left-wing extremism.” “It’s a ‘liberation front’—the lefties always have liberation fronts, right?” “For the most part, but the ELF is not leftie extremism.” “It’s a NatSoc job then—you need Charlie 4-D, they run all those groups; National Action, Combat-18—they’ve been MI5’s bailiwick forever, run ’em beautifully; total fronts—absolute piss take.” “No, not NatSoc.” “ELF—you realise that’s ‘elf’, right? ‘Elf’—Santa’s little helpers, elf and safety. Is it a joke, something like the Monster Raving Looney Party?” “It’s not a joke, Chalmers says it’s legit.” “Well, if Chalmers says Chalmers gets.” “What do we know about them?” “Not enough, that’s the problem.” The men moved from the canteen window towards the building’s doughnut-like centre—each carried a cappuccino from the staff room canteen, each drink was bitter.

“When did they pop up on your radar?” “Two months ago, we had a tip from an IR in the fuel protests.” “I see.” “Basic MO is ‘strategy of tension’.” “Oh yeah?” The men banged through a double door. “Hang on, I just need to get my pass.” The younger man fished about in his pocket for his lanyard, removed the ID and swiped it.

“Yeah, you remember Professor Nkrumah?” “Yeah. Oxford man, gunman shot him a few weeks ago. At, errr, Browns Restaurant I think.” “Right. Took my kids there once…You know why? Not why I took my kids…” “Yeah. Why?” “It’s the ELF, you see that Nkrumah wrote this book Bloody British Chains: White Supremacy and Empire.” “Jesus, sounds like something 4FF and Burton’s crew would come up with.” “Right. Well, my informant says it was an ELF job—they killed him.” “Why?” “So, unlike the NatSocs, these guys are smart. The book has all sorts of clever remarks about whites, white British right?” “All lowercase, I hope?” “Just a sec.” The man banged through a second set of security doors.

“Sure, all lowercase—all in line with the Allegra Strategy; second quarter.” “Ah, Allegra. That’s a bitch.” “Yeah, so they killed this guy—this Oxford prof—and now all the choice quotes are all over the tabloids.” “Okay, so the chavs on the council estates are riled.” “Yeah, more than that—think about the people with Barrett homes.” “Okay.” “You know, you have some middle-class stay-at-home-mum with two kids who’s like ‘look at this stuff they say about white people, look at this stuff at Oxford…it’s racist…’”.

“Okay, she doesn’t get it—it doesn’t work like that. Anyway, that’s how it’s meant to work. That’s Allegra.” “Yeah, problem is…errr…you know Bryan Maynard?” “Ah, Maynard I think I met him at New Pathways in 2017. Vaguely.” “Yeah, he says this is the wrong demographic for Allegra…” “And he knows the models?” “He knows his models, Maynard knows his models.” “So can we put a figure on it?” “It’s a 34.” “That’s…that’s…hang on a minute.” The men cleared a final set of security doors. “That’s not where we want those figures.” “No.” “Look, let’s just talk about it in…ahhh…in here.” The older man opened a door to a non-descript meeting room, No. 848.

“Er, I don’t think this is booked.” “System is down, actually.” “It’s always down. Um, yeah so…” “Yeah, it’s to meant to work this way from a modelling perspective…in fact, Maynard says the long-term projections on this strategy mean real problems from a fulfilment perspective.” “Real?” “Yeah, I mean, really, total non-fulfilment.” “Huh. Didn’t think we had that option.” “We didn’t. Maynard had to add another radio button to make it work.” “Huh.” “So…so ELF, the ELF is a problem…” “What have you got?” The younger man handed over a few photocopied pages. “This is…a bit on the sparse side. So…we have an insignia, Sherwood Forest—is that Robin Hood?” “Yeah.” “Hm. It’s a bit Disney.” “I guess.” The older man placed his half empty paper cup on the table, just beside the illuminated conference phone.

“Reminds me of when I took my daughter to see Frozen on Ice….ahh. I just don’t see these guys can be a real threat; it’s amateur hour, isn’t it?” “That’s not what Maynard says.” “But ‘ELF’, it’s just—well, this is what my son would say, ‘retarded’.” “Yeah, it is. But Maynard…” “Okay, I’m wool-gathering. I think based on what you’ve said, based on that rating from Maynard, we need to elevate this to D-20.” “Doesn’t that have some implications from an inter-departmental perspective?” “Sure, but in a case like this my hands are tied…” “Kick it upstairs?” “Yes, Paul.”

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