Episode Four: Agent Brons Addresses The Nation!
These were great days indeed for the Heroes of the Resistance. “Bertie” Berk – sidekick, general factotum and Chief of Technical Staff to Agent Arrow, had laboured long and hard, through many sleepless nights, to bring the hardy, but antiquated, crystal radio rig to a peak of finely-honed technological perfection.
Tonight was the night! The Resistance' Man in Brussels, Agent Brons, was to speak to the Nation. And he had chosen the humble radio set of Agents Arrow and Berk, isolated within the Nantyglo Safehouse, as the vehicle for his message of Hope and Defiance.
This was the night. Thousands of listeners – possibly millions – huddled around their radios across the Occupied Territories of Britain, ground down by years of toil beneath the merciless heel of the vile Searchlight Commissariat, would finally hear news of how the Great Struggle progressed beyond these benighted shores.
Arrow could only guess at the result of their State-Of-The-Art broadcast to the Nation.
In preparation for this momentous night, he and Berk had been laying in their supply of ammunition for the revolutionary chaos that would surely follow: The Gat Gun lay in wait with a fresh supply of .177 pellets, the catapult was newly-strung with fresh elastic, and a cache of deadly Brasso, Irn Bru and Turps Molotov Cocktails lay ready for action.
Nervously, Berk tweaked the Bakelite knob on the trusty crystal rig. A feint hissing grew louder. Deftly, as though one with the machine, Berk eased back on the tuner and lightly tapped the “Overdrive” button.
“Now!” He said to Agent Arrow, who followed the instruction to throw the switch marked “Broadcast Relay”.
This was it! Agent Brons was Live to the Nation! Circumventing the broadcast controls of the hated Gableite Regime!
“Sorry 'bout that...” mumbled Berk. “Had my finger on the “send” button all the time...”
Agent Arrow sank back into his seat. Berk tried to sound positive. “Never mind, eh?”
Arrow was unconvinced. “Next time! We'll get the buggers next time!”, continued Berk.
The radio crackled into life once again.
Berk flew to the dial and fine-tuned the delicate device as a familiar voice came through the ether.
“It's Agent Cyclops!” cried Berk; “He's through to the entire Nation!” Arrow sat up, electrified: His beloved Leader? Addressing the Nation? This was, indeed, victory snatched from the jaws of defeat!
“Turn it up, Kinsman!” he shouted; “Our Nation must hear the Leader's words!”
Berk, modulating the frequency like a great conductor controls an orchestra, reduced the crackling static to a bare minimum and allowed the Leader's lush, charismatic voice to be relayed across the airways to his starved, crushed People.
“Fellow Patriots”, he began, as Agent Arrow drew himself to a salute: “We need your donatio...”
As suddenly as it had appeared, the voice vanished.
“Bertie” Berk threw himself at the Rig, frantically checking to see what could possibly have gone wrong. “But I had it!” He exclaimed: “It was working perfectly!”
It was only then that Berk registered Agent Arrow, holding the plug in his trembling hand. There was an air of dejection around the Stalwart Resistance Fighter.
“Don't worry about it, Old Boy,” he said, pulling the rag from a Molotov Cocktail and drinking deeply from it: “It's a repeat...”