The Beijing conspiracy

CHAPTER 34

R ichard Halliwell watched in amusement as Dan Esposito duffed his third shot, but his smile soon vanished. Instead of disappearing into the creek, the ball hit the middle of the stone-arch bridge and bounced fiendishly, landing halfway up the middle of the fairway on the other side. Halliwell and the President reached the first green in the regulation three shots and while they were waiting in their cart for Dan Esposito to take his fourth, the President quietly raised his plans for research into biological weapons.

‘I think the Reverend Buffett is absolutely right, Mr President,’ Richard Halliwell responded. Halliwell had concluded some time ago that the shortest route to the inside circle of this White House was a biblical one. ‘These Muslims will not stop until they’ve achieved their goal of a pan-Islamic society, and we need to do everything we can to ensure that doesn’t happen. It would be an honour to take on the task, Mr President.’

‘You’d be doing this nation a great service, Hal. A great service.’

Dan Esposito wobbled his flabby arse and then swung his club like a baseball bat. Somehow the club connected with the ball, which sizzled off the fairway, along with a sizeable chunk of The Vineyard’s best turf. Had Esposito’s ball not immediately developed a vicious slice it would have finished up on the next fairway.

‘Oh shit!’ Esposito’s expletive carried across the course. If any of the members had been within earshot, there would have been an instant complaint of ‘ungentlemanly language’.

Halliwell smirked with satisfaction as he watched Esposito’s ball veer towards trouble among the tall pines on the right-hand side of the green, but his smirk faded as a resounding thwack reverberated across the course. Esposito’s ball had slammed into a large redwood, bounced back onto the green and into the hole.

‘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.