David Peace - GB84

‘— so that the Fascism of the present governments of the United States and the United Kingdom may soon be replaced by revolutionary Socialism. That Internationalism may replace Imperialism. That the paradise you have built here may one day be the paradise that all nations may build and hold as dear as you hold this –

‘Friends. Comrades. Brother Arabs. I salute you,’ said Terry. ‘And I thank you.’

There was loud applause again. There was the white spotlight. Terry blinked. Terry bowed. Terry waved goodbye as he was led through the tables to the front door.

Terry and Mohammed stepped out of the hotel. Terry and Mohammed stopped –

Dozens of military vehicles had encircled the front grounds of the seafront hotel. Soldiers stared at Terry and Mohammed. Helicopters flew overhead in the night sky –

Salem jumped down from a jeep. Salem said, ‘You wanted to meet the Leader?’

Terry looked at the jeeps. The personnel carriers. The guns. Terry nodded.

‘Well, the Leader of the Revolution wants to meet you too,’ said Salem. ‘Get in.’

*

Dixon pulls up opposite the pig shop. He opens the passenger door –

The Mechanic crosses the road. He gets into the Montego.

‘Not very fucking smart that, David,’ says Paul Dixon. ‘Not very smart at all.’

‘Put a fucking leash on them, then,’ the Mechanic says. ‘What I do with my dogs.’

‘You’re supposed to do me a favour,’ says Dixon. ‘Then I do you one.’

‘Exactly,’ the Mechanic tells him. ‘So you owe me a favour.’

Dixon turns. He grabs the Mechanic’s face. He pushes it against the side window and says, ‘Fuck you, Johnson. Fuck you. I could nick you like that —’

Dixon clicks his fingers in the Mechanic’s face –

‘Waltz you through the fucking courts. Watch them throw away the key.’

The Mechanic closes his eyes. He nods –

Dixon lets go of him. He sits back behind the wheel and says, ‘Now fuck off.’

‘You what?’ the Mechanic says. ‘You said —’

‘Them shotguns made you fucking deaf, have they?’ says Dixon. ‘Fuck off.’

‘You’ve got a name and address,’ the Mechanic says. ‘I want it. I need it.’ ‘Fuck off,’ repeats Dixon. ‘We’re through. You’re a fucking liability, you are.’

‘You promised me her name and address,’ the Mechanic says.

Dixon turns to the Mechanic. He points a.38 up at him. ‘I’ve changed my mind.’

The Mechanic stares down at the gun. The Mechanic nods –

He hates the police. Pigs. Fucking hates them. Cunts –

The Mechanic opens the passenger door. The Mechanic gets out —

The Mechanic slams the door on Paul Dixon, Special Branch.

Terry and Mohammed flew through the Libyan night in the back of Salem’s military jeep. The convoy of vehicles had long left behind the narrow alleys and the wide boulevards of Tripoli for the desert and the dark. Terry had watched Tripoli disappear in the dust and noise of the caravan. Now Terry stared up at the bright stars in the black sky. Terry Winters had never seen so many stars in his whole life. It was incredible. He had never seen any stars in the sky above Sheffield –

‘If people back home saw me here now,’ said Terry. ‘They’d never believe it.’

Mohammed leant forward and spoke first with Salem, then he sat back. Mohammed said, ‘Comrade, Libyan TV would like to film your meeting with the Leader, but Salem thinks it might cause embarrassment for your Union and yourself, if for any reason it was to be shown in the West.’

Terry shook his head. Terry said, ‘Embarrassment? I don’t see why.’

‘Then they can film the meeting?’ asked Mohammed. ‘You’re sure?’

‘I am not ashamed to be here,’ exclaimed Terry Winters. ‘I am honoured.’

Mohammed smiled. Mohammed leant forward and spoke with Salem again. Salem turned round to speak to Terry. Salem said, ‘If that is what you wish, Comrade.’

‘One thing,’ said Terry. ‘Please teach me the correct way to greet the Leader.’

Salem looked at Mohammed. Mohammed grabbed Terry by each shoulder. Mohammed whirled Terry round to face him –

Mohammed kissed Terry once on each cheek. Hard –

‘Now you try,’ said Mohammed.

Terry held Mohammed by his shoulders. Terry kissed Mohammed hard.

Salem clapped. Salem pointed out of the windscreen. Salem said, ‘Almost there.’

Terry strained to see ahead. Terry could see nothing. Nothing but desert and dark. Then the escort of jeeps and personnel carriers swept out of the desert and the dark and through the gates of a hidden fortress cloaked in walls of shadow –

Through the gates past rows of black tents and through another set of gates in another wall of shadows past more rows of black tents and through another set of gates in yet another wall of shadows to the biggest, blackest of the Bedouin tents –

The jeep stopped in the sand.

Salem opened the doors. Terry and Mohammed got out –

Salem went to speak with soldiers dressed in black fatigues.

It was cold out here and Terry wished he had brought his coat.

Salem came back over to the jeep. Salem said, ‘Follow me.’

Terry and Mohammed followed Salem inside the big, black Bedouin tent. Through dim doorways in black walls past bright rooms through more dim doorways in other black walls to a bigger, brighter room –

Salem stopped here. Salem turned to them and said, ‘Please wait.’

Terry and Mohammed waited among the cushions and the carpets. Terry stared at the walls and the floor. The shadows and the light. Terry waited for Salem –

For Salem and Colonel Muammar al-Gadhafi –

The Leader of the Revolution.

Salem came back inside. Men with guns followed him. Men with cameras –

The men stood to either side of the doorway with their guns and cameras –

Their guns and cameras trained on Terry. Pointed at Terry. Rolling –

Three. Two. One and, Action –

Colonel Muammar al-Gadhafi entered the room. He went over to Terry Winters. The Colonel put out his hand. Terry Winters shook the Colonel’s hand –

Terry Winters embraced the Colonel. Terry Winters kissed the Colonel –

The Colonel gestured to the cushions. The Colonel called for mint tea.

Terry sat down beside the Colonel. Terry drank mint tea with the Colonel.

The Colonel smiled at Terry Winters. The Colonel spoke to Terry Winters –

Salem translated. Terry listened. The cameras rolled again –

The Colonel had agreed to meet Terry. The Colonel was pleased to meet Terry. The Colonel was always pleased to meet fellow trade unionists. The Colonel had agreed to listen to Terry. The Colonel was pleased to listen to Terry. The Colonel was always pleased to listen to fellow trade unionists –

The Colonel stopped speaking. Salem stopped translating. Terry started speaking –

Salem started translating again. The Colonel listened –

Terry spoke of the strike. The threat to their jobs. Their pits. Their communities. The use of the police and the law. The brutality. The arrests. The beatings. The kidnap. The torture. The sieges. The suffering. The poverty. The hunger. The struggle –

Terry spoke of the hopes for his visit. That the trade unions of Libya support their struggle by any means necessary. That exports of oil to Britain for use in oil-fired power stations be banned. That attempts to improve British trade links with Libya be boycotted. That all trade and training with the National Coal Board be blacked. That the people of Libya and the Leader of their Revolution support the members of the National Union of Mineworkers and its president in their revolutionary struggle to defeat the Fascism of the Thatcher government. By any means necessary –