The

Silent
Majority
Matthew Whittle

Year One
I had first come across the Silent Majority as we all had during the May Day riots
nearly five years ago. Amidst all the CND, anticapitalist and V for Vendetta Guido
Fawkesism pantomime protest that we all witnessed on the wall-to-wall news
coverage, there emerged this new, malign and slightly worrying presence. Little did
we know what it would later become, but at the time there was a definite frisson and
more than a little support for what they did on that day.
You might not remember it, but during all the coverage, I was channel hopping
between Sky News, ITV and the BBC. They all had camera crews on the ground and
there were several drones feeding images to all networks. And at about 2.30 all the
channels started showing the same images. It's still not clear whether, even at this
early stage this was a move orchestrated by the hierarchy, but whatever the reason
the narrative that unfolded changed the game for direct protest.
As I watched, tapping away with my notes and coffee on the table, ignored, a column
of foot soldiers dressed head to foot in black combats and makeshift body armour
marched through the flotsam and jetsam of the madding crowds. By this point and at
this location, the first wave of angry protest had died down and the protestors were
milling, promenading down past the Ritz, ignoring the Royal Academy and
sightseeing the looting that was happening in and through the windows of Fortnum
and Mason. As the onlookers stood idly by and allowed the looting to happen, the
double line of foot soldiers emerged from Green Park tube station and literally
marched up Piccadilly towards the shop front. As they approached, the onlookers
seemed to sense that something was up, but in the absence of any law enforcement
on the street, and due to the calm approach of the troop, no-one predicted what was
to happen next.
As they approached Fortnum and Mason, the two lines snaked in front of the shop,
separating the looters from the onlookers. I remember thinking it was odd that they
would be condoning off the looters from any potential interruptions- the police just
weren't there, so that kind of protective human barrier just wasn't necessary. But
then, the leader stepped up and barked something through a megaphone, but oddly
he barked it into the shop front. Several of the looters paused and gave him a bit of a
look, but then carried on. He then appeared to say more stuff but the drone cameras
didn't pick it up. Various anonymous Twitter accounts and bloggers who claimed to
have been present suggest it was a demand to vacate the premises and desist from
looting, vandalism and all other illegal activity. And then a vague threat was issued.
This time they were completely ignored. Like who the fuck was going to stop them?
After a few seconds the leader turned around and each member of the two lines
simultaneously took out and extended those batons that the police carry while the
back line turned and faced streetside, batons raised to ward off any potential
interference, while, and I kid you not, the front line marched purposefully forward and
stared taking swipes at anyone they came into contact with.

The first few pavement hangers-on ran off pretty sharpish, but then the looters in the
windows began to take more notice and one or two began to gesticulate and throw
bits of wood and brick at the front rank. Which was a mistake. The leader used his
baton to point out the main protagonists and then in pairs the footsoldiers went in,
beat the shit out of individuals, dragged them out of the crowd and when they were
subdued enough, cabled tied their ankles and their hands behind their backs and
piled them in the gutter like rubbish bags to be picked up in the morning by the
council. One of the troop was also removing face masks and bandanas and taking
photographs of the perpetrators. @BritDog14 told me much later that they didn't
have any plan for them to be picked up by the police, but they wanted them to be
taken out of the equation for the day.
People on the ground caught snatches of exchanges between the troop and the
other protestors, by now keeping a very respectful distance. Phone videos show the
troop responding to questions with answers like "not in my name", "they were
warned". We learned later of course that this was the first step in their war against
mindless vandalism masquerading as direct protest. The get angry, protest but don't
cross the line mantra they unofficially kept got its first outing on that day.
What were they campaigning about? They agreed totally in the principles of direct
protest, but they abhorred the scumbags who used it as an excuse for their own
anarchist and illegal activities. They planned to give them a taste of their own
medicine. He called them scum of the earth and he was convinced that they wouldn't
see reason. He saw it as his personal mission to clean up direct protest bluntly and
viciously.
Now I don't know if they had a look out, or if one of them had an ear on the police
frequencies or if they just had excellent timing and discipline, but they cleared out
just as the police started rounding the corner from Piccadilly Circus. They reformed
the double line and marched in perfect formation back to the tube. Eyewitnesses say
that as they entered the tube, helmets and jackets were removed and large hold-alls
appeared, probably from accomplices secreted around the station. As the sirens
wailed at street level and the protestors scattered, the troop dissipated into the crowd
and melted away. As we now know they reappeared forty minutes later in Oxford
Street and then a third time in Covent Garden, each time appearing and then
retreating to the tube stations. @King&Cuntry told me later that they orchestrated the
whole thing from a lock up in Hackney. Three guys with multiple screens on the
news coverage, God knows how many phones and an agreed change of hashtag
every hour to avoid coming onto the radar of the authorities. He said they did have
two drone operators working for them that day, but he never said whether or not it
was their images that was streamed to the media.
@BritDog and @King&Cuntry were always vague about their impact and
connections with the media. I guessed that at least one had been involved with a
major news organisation at one point, but whether they did it through deep cover
contacts in the press, hacking their feeds or a combination I don't know, but they
were media savvy from the outset.
They took their name either from a Nixon speech or an episode of the Good Life.
Penelope Keith exercising her rights and her power as the moral middle class

referred to herself as the silent majority and it was this sense of being politically
ignored and powerless that motivated them. They never said it outright, they were
too careful for that, but they were angry that every political debate was dominated by
the powerful elite who were totally divorced from reality, or else it was muddied and
ruined by the mindless and thuggish underclass who hijacked legitimate protest with
their own ugly agendas. The vocal minority were running the show.
They believed totally in the right to direct action and angry, on-the-streets protest.
But they thought that legitimate marches were too safe and played by the
established rules. Their mission they said was to up the ante of direct protest and
really make their voices heard. Cause real and unpredictable chaos, but to do so
legally. Make a point but don't make enemies was another mantra I often heard
repeated at meetings or on Twitter feeds. To achieve this they needed people who
passionately had the courage of their convictions, who believed in their rights to
protest and who could be trusted to go to extremes without stepping over the line.
And for that level of commitment and coolness under pressure, the disillusioned exservices, ex-policeman (later some serving police too) and some of the more
hardcore doormen and construction workers. They were a formidable force: fiercely
intelligent as well as physically menacing. It was the kind of ideology that would
naturally attract the disparate and liminal, but even in the early days they were
attracting a few terror cell dropouts, hunt saboteurs chasing the next adrenaline rush,
home grown insurgents as well as some of the nationalists looking for a purer
ideology. By the time I joined, there were more than a few who were there looking for
an adrenaline rush and the buzz of pavement confrontation.
The riot high.

Year Two
After that, things died down a little and while the authorities and the media tried to
make sense of the scenes that they had witnessed, they all melted away back into
their normal lives. They avoided sharing numbers or email addresses, instead
staying in contact through Twitter and carefully orchestrated ever-changing
hashtags. They deleted much of what they posted and managed to evade the
authorities who sifted through social media for weeks after May Day.
Somewhere out in the country though, they were presiding over a steadily growing
membership, arsenal and ambition. The scale of their next public outing was a
considerable step up.
I don't know if they were inspired by the million man march in America, but the
numbers swelled greatly over 12 months. As all petty dictators do, they decided they
needed a uniform. The all black combats had worked well on May Day, but this relied
on 20-30 people having these items already. @QuartRmastr set about this onerous
task in a unique way. He knew people and had contacts in the ex-army and navy
business. But the problem was you couldn't walk into a store and buy kit for 400
people without attracting attention. E-bay and other internet outlets were faceless but
left a digital paper trail. So how to do it?
He was sketchy on the details, but he reverted to military type and enlisted some
specialist help from some guys who had been inside for bank jobs. In scenes
reminiscent of Jack Hawkins' League of Gentlemen, he would case army and navy
surplus shops and warehouses for weeks. Browsing, stock and buying small pieces
as samples all over the country. I checked with the Met afterwards, but that year
twenty three major army and navy outlets were broken into and robbed of all stock.
Completely cleaned out. Uniforms, small arms, survival kits and one or two vehicles.
With the precision of a bank heist and the leave-no-trace sensibilities of a master
magician, this bounty was whisked away to at least two confirmed, possibly as many
as five safe houses in the back of beyond.
What is clear is that in the lead up to May Day the robberies increased and a
suspicious number of vans and land rovers went off the radar in the Lake District and
Kent, but also in the Pennines, the Fens and Cornwall.
So what was all the kit for? As May Day that year unfolded it soon became clear that
the get angry, protest but don't cross over the line mantra had taken a step up. Just
as last year the first signs of something afoot was captured on CCTV. Within minutes
of each other, so much more carefully co-ordinated than the previous year, five
troops snaked out of tube stations across the capital. Marching in strict formation
they took a very similar approach to the one they had in front of Fortnum and Mason
the year before. But mobile.
Like a Roman phalanx they snaked through the crowds of protestors, when they
came across anyone engaging in illegal activity they would be directed by the leader
and groups of four would detach from the line, beat the shit out of the perpetrators,

two did the heavy work, one disabled them using cable ties, then unmasked and
photographed, while the fourth stood guard discouraging any interference.
After each 'rubbish dump' the photographer uploaded the mugshot to Twitter under a
joint account, @MayDayMajority with hashtags like #notinmyname, #criminal,
#vandal and so on.
Because of the Met's non-intervention policy and softly-softly policing, the decision
was made to observe and react. As a result the Silent Majority marched with the
crowd and joined in a largely peaceful protest as they gathered on Hyde Park. The
crowd kept a respectful distance and those that hadn't seen their actions last year
and who got too close were politely warned away with raised batons. It seemed from
the footage that they were joining in but not integrating with the masses.
The coup de grace came later.
As the people gathered in front of the stage in Hyde Park, the Silent Majority
gathered front and centre elbowing, sometimes literally, everyone else out of the
way. As the speeches carried on, those watching on TV saw a gradual swelling of a
tightly formed cohort in perfect military formation standing silently in front of the
crowd. Although there was much shouting and jeering at the exhortations from the
speakers, as the troop increased, so did the sense of unease. After all, a large, all
black army with a track record for mass vigilantism was not everyone's idea of direct
protest. Ironically.
But, last years Hackney lock-up HQ had graduated. The four torched transit vans
parked in Holland Park and billowing out smoke were the tell-tale origins of the four
heavily modified quad bikes that had appeared on the streets. Painted all black they
had speakers and screens mounted on the front and back panniers. Driven by one
trooper with a second riding pillion, they blared out a never ending stream of loud
and aggressive music, from Fight the Power and Don't Believe the Hype, to Ride of
the Valkyries and Dance of the Knights, high tempo and heart pounding was the aim.
All the while the screens were flashing up images of politicians, poverty stricken
citizens, foreign atrocities, newspaper headlines and news footage. Interspersed
between these images were brief slogans, white on a black background: NO SAY,
NO VOICE; ALL POLITICIANS ARE LIARS; GET ANGRY; DON'T ACCEPT;
CHALLENGE THE CORRUPTION and others. Each bike was guarded by an
entourage of 10 footsoldiers providing a protective cordon, but the incendiary cherry
on the top of the cake was the Land Rover that trundled 'round the corner.
All in black like everything else, it was driven by a trooper with a laptop holding
passenger, but in the flat bed stood a remarkable figure. Dressed, of course, in black
combats this one had a modified helmet that actually had a smaller LCD screen
positioned where his face should be. As everything was black it was hard to say
exactly how, but straps and duct tape seemed to be involved. On this screen there
flashed a never ending cycle of altered and demonic looking images of major world
leaders, interposed with slogans like 'MURDERER', 'LIAR', 'GUILTY', 'CROOK' and
'THIEF', this time red on a black background. And this one didn't hold a police grade
extendable baton. Instead he held aloft a huge, three pronged black trident. And to
top it all off he wore a cape. A fucking cape! He looked an arch villain from Marvel's

UK catalogue and he was clearly the master of ceremonies as far as the Silent
Majority were concerned.
Flanked by a further 20 shock troops, the Land Rover processed at the back of the
quad bike line and wended its way slowly through the crowds. It was oddly like a
Roman emperor making a triumphant return to the city after a campaign. As they
approached Hyde Park, they timed their arrival to coincide with the fag end of the
speeches and one cohort at a time the troops on parade at the rally marched out in
perfect synchronisation. The footage showed the passenger of the Land Rover
making repeated calls on the radio and this guy seemed to be the ringleader and
certainly there was long steady stream of tweets from @King&Cuntry throughout the
day. Now it is not clear what routes were planned by the marchers to begin with but
the Silent Majority at the head of the crowd marched the whole protest and seemed
to be dictating the pace and the route, despite having hijacked the event, they
seemed to be leading it effectively. Still not sensing a particular clear threat to public
order, the police, by now walking alongside the protestors and marshalling the event,
continued to keep their distance and let events unfold.
As the protest deviated and processed down Whitehall, things became tense. At the
same time a number of drones appeared in the air above the massed march. There
had been several zipping about all day, but their number seemed to swell
considerably at this point. It is also alleged, but not proved conclusively that official
media drones were taken out of the sky by the militant drones. Although the veracity
of this or even of the drones' provenance is still to be established.
In any case, as the bikes and Land Rover approached Downing St, a number of the
drones actually entered the air space over the gates and beyond. The police at the
gates didn't have a clue how to respond. Hands went to automatic rifles but paused,
awaiting instruction. Orders were asked for and presumably given, but at that
moment the great horde paused and in response to a drill Sargent's barked orders
came to attention facing the gates. Between the drones and the potential threat of a
small army on the doorstep the armed officers on duty were
understandably nervous. When the constables policing the March began to move in
to form 3 parallel lines in front of the gates, the Silent Majority acted quickly. A
battalion was dispatched from the Middle of the ranks and immediately moved to cut
off the police cordon. They created a square using troops as three sides and the
gates of Downing St as the fourth, effectively kettling the constables inside. Inner
and outer ranks with raised batons to keep the police in and out. It was a power play,
the Silent Majority baring its teeth in a contemptuous show of force literally on the
doorstep of the government.
And it seemed orchestrated, planned. The screens on the bikes and the trident guy
changed to 'YOUR MOVE'. After a few moments, the crowd who had pressed in
around took up the chant 'Your move! Your move! Your move!' Although more
excitable protestors were backed off with baton rounds from peripheral troops.
The police were visibly wavering, caught between a desire to act and stamp out this
affront to their authority, but also mindful of the need for clemency and restraint to
avoid a nasty situation. And all at once the trident was held aloft and the troops
withdrawn. The troops carefully stage managed the progress, marshalling the

crowds behind a human cordon. The Silent Majority would be leading this pilgrims
progress and the crowd now had a healthy respect, if not for the troops, then for the
hardware they were not shy about brandishing.
As the kettle was withdrawn and the army marched on, they set their sights on
Parliament. Bolder, more aggressive, they picked up their pace, perhaps anticipating
armed police reinforcements and more resistance than they had encountered so far.
And rightly so. A host of riot police confronted them as they turned into Parliament
Square, but they didn't flinch. As the bikes lined up in front of the police, with the
Land Rover behind, they immediately deployed troops on both flanks. Joined on the
back of the flat bed, two megaphone wielding commanders began to relay
instructions. Within two minutes upward of 200 shock troops faced down the police
lines and after a brief stand-off advanced.
Batons flew on both sides, but after brief exchanges the surge came. Another
battalion formed a v in front of the vehicles and rushed forward into the middle of
the police lines. As they beat back the authorities through sheer weight of numbers
the vehicles advanced. Once they penetrated the cordon they were surrounded by a
three layered protective human she'll and they didn't pause to advance on the
entrance to parliament. There was a huge rush from the authorities to cover the
charge but the speed and violence of the attack was overwhelming. They surged
forward, there were casualties on both sides, several police officers were trampled
underfoot and at least one was thrown underneath the bike tires, but the momentum
was unstoppable. They arrived at St Stephens Entrance and as a surprise to
everyone they just stopped. The three figures on the back of the Land Rover were
still bellowing orders as they had been throughout, but they were marshalling and
cajoling the troops to form in lines in front of parliament. About half their number
were engaged in fending off the riot police and keeping back the protestors who had
followed them through and now swamped parliament square. The screens had
switched and all now read SILENT PROTEST as the entire army, save the cordon,
just stood there facing parliament. 5 minutes they stood there. An eerie calm amidst
a see of violent discord. Holding their nerve. Waiting for orders.
The drone footage shows that 5 or 6 troops were working on boxes in the back of the
flat bed and transferring things between the Land Rover and the bikes during this
hiatus, but the next actions really lit the touch paper.
Mirroring nature, birds and drones alike, seemed to sense that something was afoot
and suddenly seeped away, disappearing from the skies.
After five minutes of frantic activity on the back of the Land Rover, the trident guy
was given a nod and then both megaphone operators counted down from 10. On
zero the back of the Land Rover exploded in a riot of spark and flame as a sizeable
firework display began. Almost immediately afterwards similar things happened on
the back of the quad bikes. As the police fell back a few paces and the armed
response teams behind them stepped up a few, there was a moment where it could
have gone horribly wrong. Before it actually seemed to.
There were five explosions in very quick succession as the vehicles were immolated,
probably with crude petrol bombs and there was suddenly a 10 yard space around

them. Although no-one really noticed at the time, thanks to the fireworks and cover of
the acrid black smoke pouring out from the vehicles, the troops began to disperse,
shedding black items of clothing and trailing into the crowds, faces covered
underneath the their black masks with the cowls and bandanas of the majority of the
protestors. Under this cover upwards of 400 shock troops disappeared into the
crowd. As the police panicked and surged forward to try and chase the black
uniformed troops, the crowd, fuelled and stoked by the incendiary madness they had
just witnessed immediately and viciously turned on them. Progress barred, the police
had no chance of pursuing them.
Forensic examinations of the vehicles later found the remnants of the screens,
laptops, several mobile phones and radios, but nothing was traceable, all evidence
of prints and data destroyed by the fire, all SIM cards removed in advance.
It took hours for the police to restore order after that and the cost of the clean up ran
into the millions. Protestors and police alike were injured and the St Thomas A&E
was overrun with casualties, some with major injuries.
Although they were roundly condemned by all political parties, there was never any
evidence of serious wrongdoing. From start to finish they had not attacked a police
officer until they were confronted in parliament square and even then, said many
commentators, they had remained disciplined, worryingly so, in the face of a
stressful and violent situation. They had been incisive and clinical. Their aims were
not clear and were much debated in the media and on social networks, but their
power and the flexing of their muscle was universally acknowledged. Everyone
waited for their press release, their statement. What could we expect? A terrorist
home video condemning the authorities and making demands? A radical political
manifesto? A UKIP style statement of political intent? But nothing came. The Silent
Majority had made their silent protest, seemingly and directly against the
government, but to what aim and to what end?
The mistake would have been to forget about it and let it all go quiet. But GCHQ
were not going to let this one go this time and started to put the feelers out.

Just over a year later and it would all come crashing down. Literally.

Year Three
To everyones great surprise, the Silent Majority failed to show up at the May Day
protests the following year. Despite an increased police presence in the area
surrounding the Houses of Parliament and Whitehall, the marches were largely
peaceful and there was no serious threat to public order or large scale corporate
property save a few isolated instances of vandalism.
Far from allaying fears this total absence of action made the authorities more twitchy
than they had been. And with good reason.
As May progressed rumours abounded about the movements of the group. Twitter
traffic began to increase around the #finalcountdown and #FAmajority hashtags but
the meaning was unclear until after the event.
As that years FA cup final began and the Duke of Cambridge was introduced to the
players, the assembled military were on parade as expected and ever vigilant. It only
emerged later that their vigilance was inward rather than outward. As the Prince and
his son, attending his first public event as a dignitary, were being escorted to the
royal box, the top brass were having kittens. Only a few people were present but
when someone noticed that none of the soldiers escorting the royal party were
recognisable serving military personnel, alarms were raised at the highest level and
the wheels were set in motion.
As the first half progressed and goals were scored at either end, stimulating the
Wembley crowd, no-one was too interested in the wellbeing of the Prince and his
son. Except for the soldiers surrounding the box. It is still unclear how they were
infiltrated in such a comprehensive manner, but the replacement of the royal security
was accomplished seamlessly. The royal guards were found bound with cable ties
and gagged in Heathrow warehouse later in the evening and their accounts centred
around an efficient hijacking of their troop van with tear gas and police issue tyre
stingers. Quick, efficient and precise. And probably an inside job.
On the half time whistle things happened quickly. The young prince was led down
the steps with a very close cordon, while the Duke was, according to spectators and
phone footage, more bundled than lead. Presumably as he knew, once they had
deviated from the schedule, he knew that things were out of control. The royal party
arrived pitch side for what the crowd assumed was going to be a half time event or
inspection. The stewards morphed simultaneously around the ground into black
robed shock troops as high vis was peeled off and discarded. As the stewards took
out and extended their batons, each section head emerged from the steps with a
large black holdall and distributed an assortment of assault rifles. The turnstyles and
emergency exits were locked and the now black uniformed stewards abandoned
their posts to join their comrades in the stands and pitch side, securing the stadium
from any outside police or military interference.

As the Princes crossed the white line, the whole crowd turned to see
@QuartRmastrs coup de grace Black Hawk helicopter appear over the top of the
stand and fly through the arch. One of the service doors behind the corner flag was
opened and where there should have been emergency ambulances or tractors, two
military troop carriers, several transit vans and a couple of minibuses with blacked
out windows drove in. As these snaked round the pitch and came to a stop in a
rough horseshoe configuration around the pitch mid-way between the sidelines and
the centre circle helicopter on the pitch, it was rapidly dawning on everyone that this
was seriously fucked up.
Purchased from a Texas dealer and shipped over in secretly in a container the exmilitary helicopter was an impressive sight as it circled and then settled in the centre
circle. Even when the military band were scattered unceremoniously in the down
draft of the helicopter blades, the majority of the crowd and the worldwide television
audience assumed it was part of the half time razzamatazz. The penny only dropped
for everyone when the shock troops from the previous years Mayday disgorged
themselves from the belly of the Hawk. As they stood guard at the corners, weapons
pointing outward, the royal party was stoop marched over to the helicopter and
bundled in with some force. The police were dumbstruck and hamstrung waiting for
orders from their superiors, who in turn were waiting for advice from senior figures in
Government or Kensington Palace. The genuine military personnel who were
present on the day were weaponless, but recognised the reality of dealing with men
with superior hardware who clearly knew what they were doing and appeared to
have the will to follow through with the apparent threat.
The steward troops werent hanging around. They started from the uppermost tiers
and slowly snaked down through the stands and emerged onto the pitch gradually
loading themselves into the transport provided. As they walked out onto the playing
surface some simply marched onwards, others provided a cordon at pitchside to
deter encroachment from anyone who wanted to intervene. It was a trademark slick
and efficient Silent Majority manoeuvre.
There was widespread disquiet and as the commentators spoke with panic-stricken
rapidity about the scenes that were unfolding, this disquiet manifested itself into
several scuffles on the terraces and more than a few people making a swift exit from
their seats. Most just looked on open-mouthed, not quite understanding or believing
what was going on.
As the final stewards entered the playing area, the helicopter began to rise as did the
level of panic in the crowd. Where were they taking the princes? The military
personnel on the ground were now beginning to run around and several were
pointing at doors and troops while talking rapidly into radios. The Silent Majority fed
off this atmosphere and began to speed up their retreat. They quickly filled up the
vehicles and the remaining foot soldiers marched out of the stadium at the side of
the motors.

As they exited the arena and closed the service doors, the collective paralysis was
broken as the army pursued the intruders, marshalled by the most senior military
figure there, mobile phone pressed continually to his ear. Then the encroachment
started. With no stewards to stop them, several hundred people vacated the stands
onto the pitch. Some were just moving in the absence of anything else to do, some
were trying to join the military in pursuit, but many took advantage of their lack of
shackles to attack the few police officers who were present or fight with opposition
fans. In short time it resembled the floor of the circus in Ancient Rome. The families
and non-mobile fans that remained in the stands were in obvious rabbit-in-theheadlights shock and the commentators that hadnt abandoned their posts or
tactically retreated to the hospitality suites were not very accurately describing
apocalyptic scenes. Below stairs the food counters were looted and vandalised and
the hospitality suites were barricaded as hooligans attempted, with variable success
around the ground to gain access.
All the while the Silent Majority, now outside the ground and having established a
perimeter were loading up all the remaining troops into a small blacked out fleet of
waiting coaches. As they got on their coaches like mercenary day-trippers, the
helicopter was already on its way to central London.
It was suggested later that they had intended to land on College Garden and leave
the princes tied symbolically to a lamppost with a statement ransom demand
attached to them, but despite their group expertise there was no way to guarantee
the maintenance of a second hand US helicopter. As they circled the capital fending
off the scrambled police helicopters, by now transmitting live pictures to News
channels, the black convoy began to arrive. In the lead coach the message had been
relayed that there were some issues with the helicopter but they reassured the pilot
that they would be in position shortly and they should circle on more time. Under no
circumstances should the helicopter land until the Silent Majority had established a
perimeter on College Garden.
As the helicopter made a final pass over the London Eye and began to descend
there was clearly something wrong. Smoke could be seen coming out of the engine
and there was a momentary loss of control as the tail wobbled in mid air. Just as it
looked as if they might land it, the rear rotor clipped a lamppost and the Hawk span
out of control completely. Live on air, accompanied by the stunned silence of the
news anchors, the helicopter tumbled to earth and sprayed bits of propeller across
Parliament Square, embedding some shrapnel in Winston Churchills plinth.
As the shock troops galloped up St Margaret St. it became clear that their plans, like
the helicopter had come crashing down. The helicopter mounted cameras zoomed in
on the crash site and while there was a small fire in the cockpit there was, crucially,
no discernible movement. As the troops arrived, moving gingerly forwards, cowering
from the heat of the flames, they smashed open the cockpit and dragged out the
pilot, attempting the same in the back. As they swarmed into the square and

dawdled on the gravel for the first time there appeared to be a collective lack of
direction. Was there no order? Was there a disturbance in the chain of command?
Small groups began to break away, seeping towards the tube station. Some began
to head to Birdcage Walk using the foliage in St James Park as cover, others
headed to Westminster Pier, boarding the small flotilla of river taxis moored there,
perhaps by prior arrangement. Others could be seen with hands on heads or heads
in hands, lamenting the disastrous end to the campaign and their hopes for change.
In the immediate aftermath the intended outcomes of their kidnap were unclear and
even now eighteen months later the real reasons for taking these hostages were
clouded in mystery and perhaps had more to do with the ego of the organisations
upper echelons. @King&Cuntry and @BritDog were unavailable for comment.
Perhaps permanently. Had they perhaps been caught up in the excitement of what
they could do if they really flexed their muscles, instead of what they could achieve.
It was a misguided stunt. Nothing more.
But as remaining members stood around looking at the smashed body of the
helicopter, that contained within it at least one of the architects of the Silent Majority
and the bodies of Prince William and Prince George, the news anchors awakened to
the gravity of the situation and were already making connections and drawing
parallels between this pile of twisted metal and a pile of twisted metal in a Parisian
underpass several decades before.
The authorities had made a similar connection already, as the full might of all the
military and police personnel that were available poured out of Horseguards,
charged down Birdcage Walk and converged on Parliament Square.
It is likely that one of the Silent Majority shot first, finally losing their nerve and
abandoning discipline after three years of sustained and calm campaigning, but the
full all-hell-breaks-loose gun battle that followed was desperate and chaotic.
Hemmed in on three sides by a combined team of the Mets Armed response units
and some army, sporadic gunfire was seen to be taking place across the square.
Many of the Silent Majority troops who were still making their way from College
Garden simply turned and melted away South and into the city. Many of the first
responders who were already in Parliament Square when the shooting started
decided to make a stand. For the large part this was a spontaneous decision by most
in the face of the catastrophic failure of the campaign objective. It was also clear that
for many their intended escape routes were the tube station, the assembled boats
from Westminster Pier and routes West across the bridge. They had to fight their
way through to escape according to their carefully laid plans, or else ditch everything
they believed in and desert.
Some sensed defeat early on and did just that, breaking ranks and resorting to a
personal plan B, but many stood their ground, perhaps egged on by the aggressive
stance taken by the combined armed and police forces. They had been on high alert

and were spoiling for a fight with the Silent Majority already and having been denied
the opportunity at the start of the month, were itching for some imagined payback.
The top brass were also acting blind. The proximity of events to Whitehall and
Downing St meant that any of the government not in attendance at the Cup Final had
been whisked away according to emergency protocols. In response to the
kidnapping of two of their own, the royal family had gone to ground shortly after the
initial incident had commenced at Wembley. In the absence of instruction from the
Government or the Monarchy, events on the ground were being run by the
Intelligence Agencies and being actioned by the military and the police. In full and
unrestrained use of counter terrorism powers, the heads of the Army and the police
were responding as if a terrorist invasion was happening on the streets of the capital.
So it passed that in front of the Houses of Parliament, on the gravel of Parliament
Square and in the surrounding streets, twenty three serving police officers and one
hundred and twelve Silent Majority protestors were shot dead.

Year Four

In the months that followed the surviving members went to ground as public opinion
turned bitterly against them. They had always been distrusted because of the sinister
black uniforms and their obvious power, but they had also gained support in the past
for their aggressive but zero tolerance approach to mindless vandals and nonpeaceful protestors. The government were a legitimate target and everyone got that.
Everyone enjoyed seeing them pilloried and enjoyed even more that the robin hood
outlaws had got away with it after cocking a snook at the establishment. No real
harm done.
But this was unforgiveable.
The collective grief at the killing of Prince William and especially Prince George, was
a step too far and the public anger at the perpetrators matched their mass
outpourings of grief at their passing. There were government inquiries and there was
large scale public condemnation of their actions. The police and military were
commended for their actions, despite it being a near massacre.
And the Silent Majority went to ground. There was barely a trace of them. The
coaches and other transport were abandoned and burned out at College Gardens.
Over a million hours of CCTV footage that tracked their retreat through the streets
and underground of London yielded little precious as, true to their MO, they
discarded their uniform in transit.
There were dawn raids and hundreds of arrests across the country as the
authorities, backed by the government in the strongest terms relentlessly pursued
the people who were guilt of this appalling and barbaric murder of the two princes.
There was discord and fear for months. People became suspicious of ex-military
personnel and other people who fit the profile as outlined by criminal psychologists
in the media and endlessly reprinted in the newspapers and shared on social media.
Neighbours grassed each other up and made unsubstantiated accusations.
Most people who were arrested were released after 48 or 72 hours, innocent victims
of spurious allegations from neighbours. Most of these received a kicking and had
their houses vandalised, their communities not believing their innocence or taking
the opportunity to exact revenge for past injustices using this as the excuse. The few
people who were arrested and detained for longer disappeared. Not formally
charged, but held indefinitely. Those that knew clearly werent for talking, but truth be
told, the majority were silent because they didnt know anything. They had been
contacted in cells and fed information as required. Basic outlines of how to act in
their unit were passed down, always through Twitter and never in person. When they
met they were told what to do and orchestrated by a new leader they joined on the

day. They followed his or her orders, never saw their face and disbanded as soon as
their job was done. No-one knew about any more than around fifteen to twenty
others and then only first names, twitter handles or scant information about previous
careers, time served with others or occasionally hinted at regiments. Information was
scarce. The surviving Silent Majority had gone to ground and were still there.
When the personnel were becoming elusive they decided to trace the hardware.
Their equipment must have been stored in locations around the country. Only two
were ever found, neither could be confirmed one hundred per cent as their property.
One was found in Cumbria, a disused agricultural shed. There was a warehouse in
Kent that items were traced back to. And there were rumours of old MoD buildings
sourced through mercenary ex-service connections, but with everyone dead or
disappeared it is nigh on impossible to say. Without following up every disused MoD
building it would be hard to rule any of these rumours out, but even eighteen months
on there's every possibility that cells are still storing kit in old grain silos or meeting in
disused military bunkers.
The intelligence services are still searching for the Silent Majority in case they return
and exact what revenge they can?
I dont think theyve got the stomach for that and I think they only ever meant to
cause disruption and not any real harm. But who am I to say.
Indeed who am I?