“Sort of, sir. The number we retrieved doesn’t belong to anyone in Argentina. The last call made on this phone was to an international number in America, placed to area code 415.”

“And what state might that be?”

Daniel grinned like a cat that had got the cream. “California, sir. San Francisco, to be precise.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

16 January 2012

Los Angeles

Studio City on Radford Avenue in Los Angeles was the setting for the first live television debate between the five remaining Republican presidential nominees. Inside Studio 7, a partisan audience bayed for blood as the contenders savaged each other’s policies and personal values. At times, it was hard to believe they were all members of the same party. Some of the exchanges were particularly brutal but it was obvious to those watching at home that one of them was enjoying the overwhelming support of the live crowd. Every time John Franklin went on the attack, he was backed by huge bursts of applause and raucous cheers and his four opponents were usually greeted with a cacophony of boos whenever they took him on directly.

His father stood in the corner of the green room, glued to one of the live monitor feeds. He loved the gladiatorial tone of the debate, and the crazy amount of money his team had spent on vetting the studio audience was evidently worth every dollar. As the host wound up the broadcast, Franklin made his way to his son’s dressing room. Ten minutes later, the two men were enjoying a cold glass of Dom Pérignon as they relived the best moments of the debate.

“John, you absolutely smashed it out of the park. I smell at least three dropouts in the morning. Trust me, they’ll all be angling to support you in the hope of a VP post down the line. And, because you’re so far ahead in the polls, my sources tell me the party grandees are working behind the scenes to orchestrate a coronation and bypass the primaries. They want to take advantage of your momentum and give you a clear run at the Oval Office.”

John was busy refilling his champagne glass. “Dad, that would be incredible. As we predicted, all the international stuff went down a storm – Iran, North Korea and China. That crowd hates the ayatollah more than we do. Plus, I was the only candidate out there arguing for reforming healthcare.”

Richard Franklin gave his son an enormous hug. As they separated, his voice dropped to a chilling whisper. “Remember, John, you’re the unifying candidate. We’re playing the long game here. For now, you offer everything to everybody. Just keep repeating the same message. Goebbels was a master politician and he created the golden rule, ‘If you tell a lie big enough and keep repeating it, people will eventually come to believe it.’”