The Guardian ran a piece on 3/10/2014 which showed photos of the speech Margaret Thatcher had intended to deliver at the Tory conference in 1984:

 "In which she planned to accuse not only militant miners but the entire Labour party of being ‘the enemy within’ and part of an ‘insurrection’ against democracy".

However, the Brighton bomb exploded the previous night so that speech was never delivered.

I extracted part of that intended speech in this scene from Two Graves for the Bishop where Paddy the Brit Hamilton plays a recording of a meeting between Thatcher and British army agent provocateur Brian Nelson -

 "He clicked the audio file, nodded for me to wait, the audio hissed, then a calm and determined voice.

“I want to take this opportunity to express the sincere gratitude of Her Majesty’s Government for your courageous service. Your bravery is an inspiration to us all and continues to fortify our message to the IRA – all attempts to destroy our British democracy by terrorism will fail!”

I knew this voice. It was a weapon. It was the Iron Lady.

“Thank you, Ma’am. We are only soldiers doing our duty and it is our honor to serve Her Majesty and our country!”

He sounded weak and nervous in comparison to Thatcher.

“Indeed, Mr Nelson, I dearly wish I could acknowledge our gratitude to you in the most public way but I know you will understand our enemies within would seek to manufacture difficulties for us if we were to be seen in public together. These subversive civil liberties charlatans in the Labour Party and their acolytes in the BBC and press are really as much enemies of freedom and democracy as the IRA terrorists themselves! They are either too blind or too wicked to see that their road is the road to anarchy and tyranny!”

“I understand, Ma'am, and perhaps if your enemies on the mainland were confronted with the terrorists they would change their minds.”

A voice in the background makes a comment, Thatcher laughs.

“Yes, yes, Lieutenant-Colonel, there may well soon come a time when we will have no recourse but to root out the leftist extremists who threaten democracy here in Great Britain. When that time comes we will defend our British way of life against all enemies, from within or without, using all means necessary. In the meantime, you know you have our support for your sterling work in Northern Ireland, Mr Nelson, our fullest support. We are all agreed that the IRA terrorists have forfeited their own right to life and those who refuse to defend our British democracy are equally culpable. We must prevail! They will be eliminated!”

Hamilton clicked the button.

‘That’s Thatcher licking Brian Nelson’s arse in 1989. He was chief intelligence officer for the Loyalists in Belfast. Nelson was our agent, we fed him the intell, we directed the hit squads through him.’

‘Sure this isn’t a fake?’ I said.

‘I was there! It was me brought Nelson over to meet her. This is Thatcher in her own words, and I have hours more of it – going back to their deceit regarding the Belgrano in the Falklands War, the hit squad in Gibraltar, and not only Thatcher, I have the New Labour cover up of the WMD fiasco!!’

If this was genuine then it was Artie’s Holy conspiracy Grail, the endgame of his lifetime pursuit of a truth he needed.

‘The Brits will kill to keep this buried, of course. That’s what PJ and “Jimmy” have been tasked to do, they’re here to get the evidence and then shut you and me up for good.’

‘You’ll be in the US this time tomorrow, Hamilton. My advice is play nice at the debrief and you really won’t need to worry about the Brits or anyone else ever again.’

‘Don’t worry! Those MI5 bastards shafted me when my only crime was loyalty,’ he said, ‘so fuck the lot of them! And I have plenty more like that for the Yanks, if they have the money.’

He pulled the disk out and tossed it to me.

‘See McCooey gets that,’ he said, ‘although it breaks my heart to give that two-faced prick more than the skin of my shite. And there is a copy in that envelope over there addressed to a human rights group in Londonderry. I’ll get the concierge to post it after we are gone.’

‘It’ll be time to get moving soon,’ I said. ‘I could send Michael to get food. You hungry?’

‘Hungry? I’m so hungry I could eat a donkey’s arse through a five-bar gate!’"