Doug, Janet and the group of protesters sat in a corner of the large eating area of a rundown transport cafe. A scattering of truckers occupied a few other tables. The two dowdy middle-aged women behind the counter showed no interest in anyone.
The group drank coffee laced with whisky from a flask that was passed around. They all had cuts and bruises.
Doug moved around the group shaking hands warmly with everyone.
"Tomorrow the people of this country will know what"s happening under their noses," he announced. "While the government"s cold war administration is safely ensconced underground the rest of us will be left above ground to fry. It"ll be a timely wake-up call to the country and a major embarrassment for the government."
"They"ll call us anarchists," Charles commented drily.
"A
