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‘Yes!’ Not one usually given to show any emotion, Dan Esposito gave a full-fisted salute.

‘I suppose you’re going to claim that one, Dan,’ the President yelled.

‘It’s not how, Mr President, it’s how many. Whatever it takes.’ The campaign trail was not the only place Esposito adhered to his ruthless dictum.

Richard Halliwell fought to retain his composure as he watched his putt rim the hole and then stay out. Hitting off last on the next tee was not something he was going to enjoy.

‘Have you ever thought about running for office, Hal?’ President Harrison asked, as he drove their cart off the tee on the par 5 second.

‘I’ve sometimes toyed with the idea, Mr President, but when you leave office there will be a lot of challengers for the Republican nomination and it’s difficult to judge my support base,’ Halliwell replied enigmatically, leaving the President plenty of room to frame his reply.

‘You see that guy over there,’ the President said. Dan Esposito had parked his cart on the edge of the fairway and was once again searching for his ball among the trees. ‘He may not be the greatest golfer in the world but when it comes to getting people elected he knows every trick in the book and then some. This country is going to need a strong man to carry on the work we’ve started. Someone like you who can stand up for American Christian values. Someone who isn’t afraid to take the fight to our enemies and make sure they don’t succeed.’

As the three men shook hands at the end of their round and walked off the eighteenth green, Palmer Weinberger was waiting for them. ‘I hope you had a very good game, Mr President. It’s been an honour and a privilege to have you as our guest.’

‘Well, the result could have been better, Palmer,’ the President said, looking at Halliwell with a twisted grin, ‘but there’s always next time. Dan Esposito I think you know, and this is Richard Halliwell. ’

‘A very fine course, Palmer,’ Halliwell replied. ‘You and your committee are to be congratulated.’ His response was as calculated as it was insincere. Halliwell’s dossier on Weinberger and his committee had not revealed anything he could use in his quest to gain a membership invitation, but Halliwell was not one to give up easily. ‘Here’s my card. If ever you’re in Atlanta give me a call. I’d be happy to look after you.’

Weinberger smiled thinly and pocketed Halliwell’s card without looking at it. ‘The members were wondering, Mr President, now that they know you’re here,’ Palmer said, ‘if you might join them for a drink in the clubhouse? I know your schedule is tight but they would really appreciate meeting you.’

‘Well…’ The President was uncertain, and he turned towards Esposito.

‘Mr President, I’m sure that would be fine.’ Esposito moved closer to the President and spoke more quietly. ‘I think if you said a few words about being in California for a meeting with the Faith-based Policy Institute, and what better place than a country club like The Vineyard to take a little time out. A club that epitomises American values and success in the world, and,’ Esposito concluded, speaking a little more loudly, ‘how much we appreciate the club’s discretion at keeping a private visit in-house. Would that keep the members happy?’ Esposito looked inquiringly at Weinberger.

Richard Halliwell took in the nuances of the conversation immediately. Up until now his feelings towards the powerful little advisor had been ambivalent, but he decided that as long as he remained useful, Esposito was someone he could work with. Sharp and ruthless. Esposito’s emphasis of ‘a few words’ had not been lost on Halliwell either.

‘No questions though,’ Esposito stipulated, as if reading Halliwell’s mind. ‘While you’re greeting the members, Mr President, Richard and I will grab a quiet drink on the breezeway.’

‘I want to talk to you about the announcement of your campaign which I think we should do sooner rather than later,’ Esposito said, as they followed the President and the Club Chairman towards the historic clubhouse. ‘I’d also like to talk to you about the threat from Islam and get your views on how you’re going to handle the threat from China.’

‘I have some ideas,’ Halliwell replied, still smarting over Weinberger’s perfunctory response to his card and invitation, ‘but I think China is by far the most serious,’ he added, his thoughts turning momentarily to the defection of Dolinsky. If he could put his program in place, and then gain the White House at the next election, he mused, America’s dominance of the world would be unassailable.

The jaws of Kadeer’s trap were starting to close.

CHAPTER 35

THE VINEYARD RESORT, CALIFORNIA

‘H ow was your golf?’ Simone asked, giving Richard Halliwell a lingering kiss on the cheek.

‘Beat the b’Jesus out of both of them,’ Halliwell boasted, his words a little slurred after several Ancient Reserve Glenfiddichs. The President had been able to relax among like-minded Republican friends and the visit had lasted for quite a bit longer than Esposito had scheduled. The Lincoln Penthouse on the thirtieth floor of The Vineyard Resort boasted sweeping views, and out beyond San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate the fiery red rim of the sun was just disappearing below the horizon.

‘Is that wise, darling, to beat the b’Jesus out of the President of the United States?’ Simone asked, reverting to a term of endearment she only ever used when they were alone.

‘It is when he’s just asked you to run as the next one,’ Halliwell said, squeezing Simone’s bottom.

‘He’s going to back you?’ Simone felt a surge of excitement.

‘Wants me to throw my hat in the ring for the Republican nomination,’ Halliwell replied, careful not to mention the President’s other request for him to re-commence research into the dark world of biological warfare.

‘I had a private drink after the game with his advisor, Dan Esposito, and he thinks I’ve got all the right cards. Solid business credentials, runs on the board, good family background and not only that,’ Halliwell added enthusiastically, ‘Esposito has told me quietly that my links to Jerry Buffett and his church won’t do me any harm either. Buffett’s likely to get behind my nomination and he’ll bring thousands of other churches on board with him. And that,’ Halliwell said, helping himself to a large bourbon, ‘is a very big plus.’

‘I think this calls for champagne,’ Simone said. A little while later she emerged from the penthouse’s stylish kitchen with a bottle of Krug, vintage 1964.

‘To Richard Halliwell, the next President of the United States,’ Simone said, handing him a slender crystal flute and raising her own in a salute.

‘President Halliwell. I think the business world will get behind me, don’t you?’ he asked.

‘Of course, darling. They couldn’t wish for a better champion. Who’s going to run your campaign?’ she asked, already alert to any threats to her own position.

‘Esposito. There isn’t anyone better,’ Halliwell replied, raising his chin arrogantly and staring out over the hills. Around the foreshores lights were glimmering in the distance.

‘It would be good to meet this Dan Esposito,’ Simone said provocatively as she leaned against Halliwell. ‘What would you like for dinner? I thought we’d eat in tonight.’

‘You don’t want to eat in the restaurant?’

‘You’ve just had a game of golf with the President of the United States, Richard,’ Simone replied, immediately taking control of image and PR. ‘The golf club members know about it, so it won’t be long before the rest of the world does. As the next President of the United States, you have a reputation to protect,’ she said, adjusting the collar of his golf shirt and letting her hand slide over his chest. ‘Can you imagine what the Democrats would do with a photograph of you and I having an intimate dinner? That’s an ad campaign we don’t need, darling, even if I am going to be your private secretary in the White House. Besides, I thought a dinner with just the two of us would be rather nice.’