More than one meeting had taken place at Franklin’s Sea Ranch estate after that eventful evening over a year previous. After Senator Turner left, Spackman, Cordoba, and Valdez made their excuses one by one and departed. Franklin was then joined in the library by Amelia and a tall, erect man in his early forties. Franklin greeted him with a broad smile.
“My dear Mr. Wolff. How good to see you again, Jean.”
“And you, John Henry.”
“So, what did you think of our little meeting?”
At just under six feet, lean and wiry, Jean Francois Wolff was of French and Algerian extraction. He possessed dark hair, an olive-skinned complexion, and deep brown eyes. Wolff had learned early in life that those eyes, along with a soft, understanding demeanor, made him irresistibly attractive to women. But it was an entirely different set of physical attributes-specifically a thin, colorless scar that ran from his left ear diagonally across his cheek nearly to his chin, and a piercing, unblinking stare-that gave him immediate psychological command over most men.
Following a largely unpublicized but impressive career in the service of third world leaders, Wolff had, for the past six years, surreptitiously been in Franklin’s employ. Experienced as a contract-for-hire agent for the American CIA, as well as the French
For the first four years of his association with Franklin, Wolff worked as a freelance soldier-of-fortune, checking his European postal drop and his bank account routinely, and responding from a distance to Franklin’s infrequent requests. Two years before, Franklin had brought Wolff closer to the center of action, naming him head of the intelligence division of the Franklin Group.
Wolff’s preferred method of operation was to work through other organizations, learning their objectives and feigning alliance with them. Unearthing, developing a familiarity with, and then becoming the covert source of funds for most of the militia units in California had consumed nearly a year of his time and over ten million of Franklin’s dollars.
Wolff moved across the room and took a seat near the fire. “Turner will come along, John Henry. You knew that before you invited him. Like most politicians, he probably heard only two words-blank check.”
“Yes, he’s predictable, isn’t he? He’s the first and most important step in our public airing of the plan. I’m directing you to coordinate the effective use of the remainder of our ‘friends’ and to see to their needs.”
Wolff leaned back in his chair and watched as John Henry paced the floor, refilled his drink, and moved to the French doors, stopping in the doorway leading from the room to the veranda.
“So, it all comes together now,” Wolff said.
Franklin turned and looked at Wolff silently for a moment, then returned his gaze to the horizon and the moon’s reflection off the ocean.
The Plan, as Franklin referred to his vision, had been formulated over a period of several years. Franklin had watched scores of American companies move their operations overseas, primarily to access the cheap labor available in underdeveloped nations. He himself had moved his entire computer consulting operation to India.
Through his various other holdings, Franklin had already captured a large share of the Asian market in rice, soybean, sorghum, and especially saffron, one of northern California’s largest exports, but he knew that American holdings overseas were always vulnerable to the political whims of the host nation.
In its democratic way, the United States had erected a labyrinth of restrictive labor laws and financial entitlements, even for illegal immigrants. Those entitlements, supported by excessive corporate and individual income taxes, made it impossible for American firms to compete in foreign markets. America, once the giant of the industrial world, had lost significant market share to this economic hegemony and was becoming a second-rate financial power-a trend Franklin was determined to reverse.
And, he envisioned, if he could not effect change for America as a whole, an objective even Franklin saw as beyond his initial capacity, then California was a great starting point. His vision, which he had never verbalized even to those he trusted to carry out his operations, went far beyond state lines. If California could show the way- effecting a true international marketplace, augmented by a free-flowing, cheap labor force-then other western states might reasonably be convinced to embrace the concept, and the westward expansion that had typified the growth of America would reverse itself. The movement to join the newly formed Republic of California-perhaps even the Republic of Western America-would grow, west to east, resulting eventually in a reunification of America, absent the bleeding-heart liberal laws that had hamstrung business and economic growth for so many decades.
But that was tomorrow. Today, the first step needed to be taken. Franklin turned back toward Wolff. “Are we ready?”
“We’ll do what needs to be done. The computer tech teams have already been assembled, and I’ve obtained access to the California Elections Office through the director, Kevin Phelps, who was every bit as helpful as you said he’d be.”
“Well, then, it seems we’re ready,” Franklin said.
“The elections office is under control, but are the politicians ready?” Wolff asked.
“Ah, well,” Franklin mused, “that’s another kettle of fish. The Mexicans are certainly on board and pleased with their ‘return-on-investment’ from immigration so far. As to the Malaysians and Koreans,” he paused, “only time will tell. I’ve been putting this together for a long time now, and there’s a lot riding on the outcome. If we’re to realize our dream of bringing all this together in an independent California, each of these groups has to see what’s in it for them.”
“That’s not the hard part,” Wolff said, rising to fill his glass. “The key challenge is getting the spineless politicians to stand by their word when the going gets tough. Will they have what it takes to go the distance?”
“Money, Jean,” Franklin laughed. “Money gives men a steel spine, or at least makes them think they are courageous. We’ve sweetened the pot sufficiently, and they’ve seen the potential.”
“And after you pull it off?” Wolff asked.
Franklin grasped the opportunity to preach his gospel. “Can you fathom it, Jean? The resources here, the transportation and manufacturing capabilities are unlimited. Combined with cheap labor from underdeveloped areas of the world? The potential is limitless, and we won’t have to worry about some tinhorn dictator in Camel-hump, Egypt, coming along and demanding half the profit to allow it to continue.”
“Sort of a restructuring of the Old South?”
Franklin threw a quick glare at Wolff. “That’s a poor analogy. We’re not after slavery. These imported workers will be paid a fair wage, far in excess of what they could make at home. What I am proposing is common practice in the Middle East. They import workers from Pakistan and the subcontinent to perform menial work at cheap labor costs. We can do the same thing, and everyone profits.”
Wolff changed the subject. “Well, we’re ready. What are your orders,
“It’s time to get our operation in gear,” Franklin stated, putting aside his brief anger at Wolff’s “restructuring of the south” comment and regaining his enthusiasm. “Alert our erstwhile CIA friend, Grant Sully. Tell him you’ll be activating the ‘tech teams’ again and returning to the Sacramento elections office. I’ll transfer another twenty-five million into your Cayman account. And I want the Shasta Brigade put on alert. Then develop a plan to put the other militia units under a single command, as we discussed. Do you still think this Shaw fellow can handle it?”
“As you instructed, I’ve not met with him in person, but I’ve communicated instructions with each donation. I believe he can handle command of combined movement, but the other units won’t like it,” Wolff said, shaking his head. “They each have their own agenda and think they’re autonomous. Besides, Sully likes to keep them at odds so he can play them against each other.”
“I don’t care a whit what Sully likes,” Franklin said, warming to his directive role. “I’ve used these wannabe militia groups many times over the past few years and spent a lot of money on their training and equipment in the process. This is too important. I want to personally know what’s happening. Tell Shaw we’ll be very selective in our targets, both political and ‘action.’ I want them alerted, training increased, and recruitment up, especially among, shall we say, ‘expendable assets.’ Let them continue to rob a few banks to cover the real source of their financing.
