Exile Hunter (64 page)

“Amazing,” Linder
commented, shaking his head. “But how did you happen to be waiting
here today, of all days?” Are you really that lucky or did you know
I was coming?”

“It was a little bit
of luck and a lot of patience,” Yost answered. “I thought you
might try to reach Patricia Kendall if you survived the trip, so I
did some digging to track her down at the Kamas camp. But she’d
already been released and, before I could reach her, I learned that
you had fled Utah with Caroline and that Roger and Patricia were
dead.”

“Patricia dead?”
The news staggered Linder. “How?”

“She and Roger died
in a car crash near Coalville a day or two after the camp fell,”
Yost answered. “Earlier that morning, Roger had called someone in
Cleveland to say that he and Patricia would be leaving for
Switzerland soon to claim what remained of the Eaton trusts. That’s
all I know.”

“But Roger was behind
the wire at Kamas when they leveled the place,” Linder protested.
“It doesn’t make sense that he could have gotten out.”

“As it turns out,
they released him just before the attack on the camp, so he could
make one last pass at his wife’s money.”

Linder’s mind reeled
at the news.

“But why even
bother?” Linder asked. “Roger must have known that Philip had
spent nearly all he owned on the insurgency.”

“Unless you count the
money Philip left in Ohio.”

“You mean to say the
story about hiding a portion of what he took from the Cleveland banks
is really true?”

“If you didn’t
believe me when I told you about it the first time, why did you
bother coming here?” Yost asked.

“Hope springs
eternal, I suppose,” Linder answered with a shrug. “I had to see
for myself.”

“And maybe take some
of it with you?” Yost asked.

“A little travel
money would come in handy right about now,” Linder confessed.

“Come along, then,
partner,” Yost beckoned as he took a step toward the barn. “We’ll
do a quick inspection of the cache and then I’ll tell you how we’re
going to get it out of here. There’s lots to be done and not much
time to do it.”

* * *

It was early
afternoon by the time they left the farm in Linder’s minivan,
turned back toward the city, and stopped for sandwiches. To Linder,
Charlie Yost’s reappearance was nothing short of a miracle. Only a
few hours earlier, he had only the vaguest idea of how he might
escape the country. Now, Yost had shared with him a fully developed
plan, complete with all the resources necessary to carry it out. If
it succeeded, not only he and Yost, but also Caroline, April and Jay
would be steaming east toward Lake Ontario and the St. Lawrence River
by bedtime of the following day.

Twenty minutes after
finishing their lunch, the two men drove past the old DSS office at
Hopkins Airport where Linder and Denniston had met on the eve of the
Battle of Cleveland. Spotting the building from the highway, Linder
felt a chill at the thought that someone might be watching him now
from the same window where he and Denniston had stood drinking
coffee.

“Pull off here,”
Yost instructed Linder after they passed the airport. “Let’s find
us a coffee shop.”

“But we just ate,”
Linder objected.

“It’s not for the
food,” Yost replied. “We need a pay phone. You’re going to
place a phone call to your old employer.”

“I’m what?”
Linder exclaimed.

“Stop right there, by
the fried chicken joint. I’ll fill you in on you all you need to
know.”

Once Yost explained his
plan, Linder could not help marveling at its simplicity and how
effectively it exploited weaknesses inherent in the DSS mentality. A
phone call from him to Denniston would present an irresistible
attraction to anyone in the DSS who still followed the case of the
missing Cleveland bank loot.

A few minutes later,
Linder left the minivan and walked into the coffee shop. The pay
phones were at the front, off to the side of the waiting area. He
dialed a toll-free number in northern Virginia and after several
recorded prompts was connected with a live operator.

“I’d like to leave
a message for one of your officers by the name of Neil Denniston,”
Linder said without introducing himself. “Please tell him Warren
Linder called. He’ll know the name. Tell him I have a proposition
for him. I’ll call back tomorrow between noon and one. If he’s
not available, have him leave a message as to when he’ll be free.
Thank you.”

Linder returned to the
car and gave Yost a nod.

“Do you think he’ll
call?” Yost inquired.

“Oh, he’ll call,”
Linder answered, restarting the engine. “There’s no way in the
world the bosses would let Neil miss an opening like that.”

“And do you think
he’ll come?”

“He’ll sure want
to,” Linder replied. “If they don’t send Neil, they’ll send
somebody else.” He paused and gave Yost a searching look. “Here’s
my question to you,” Linder added. “Do you think the plan will
work?”

“I expect some of it
will,” Yost said. “But as they say, no battle plan survives the
first contact with the enemy.”

They drove back onto
the highway and continued south to an industrial area off West 117th
Street, with a variety of electrical, plumbing, and building supply
stores. Moving from one store to another, they purchased an innocuous
assortment of tools and supplies. When they were finished, Yost
looked at his watch.

“All right, that’s
enough for one day. Now, if you don’t mind dropping me at the farm,
you’re free till tomorrow morning.”

“Where do you want to
meet?” Linder asked.

“Meet me at eleven
outside the dollar store on Brookpark. And make sure your people will
be ready to go the moment you come back for them tomorrow afternoon.”

* * *

That evening, Jay
Becker arrived in a 22-foot moving van and settled into a motel a
quarter mile from where April and Caroline had spent the day. Linder
located the hotel and then made a detour to pick up some take-out
Chinese food before heading to Jay’s room. Once inside, the two men
greeted each other warmly and shared stories of their separate travel
to Cleveland. Though Jay expressed suspicion on hearing of Yost’s
appearance at the Medina farm, before long he warmed to the plan that
Linder laid out for the following day and became satisfied with
Linder’s answers to his concerns.

On leaving Jay’s
motel room, Linder returned to April and Caroline with more take-out
food, a sack of magazines and paperback books and a fresh deck of
playing cards. While the day’s activities had left him exhausted
and he was anxious to recover his stamina for the next day’s work,
dinner conversation in the room’s tiny kitchenette soon became
tense, since April and Caroline were eager to learn what Linder had
done all day while they had remained cooped up indoors. At the same
time, Linder was unwilling to confide much about plans for the
morrow, except that April and Caroline could expect him or Jay to
pick them up shortly after dark.

“And then what?”
April challenged as she unpacked the food and laid it out on the
table. “Where are we going? Do you really have a plan for taking us
out of the country or are you just making it up as you go along?”

Caroline looked on
silently from across the table, sharing April’s impatience but
showing in her eyes a desperate will to believe. In a sane world, now
would be the time to inform her of her mother’s death. But Linder
could not bring himself to do it.

“I’m sorry, April,”
Linder said, taking his sister’s hands in his. “I understand how
stressful the waiting must be. But there is a plan, and it’s a good
one. Now that Jay is here, we’ll be setting up everything for
tomorrow night.”

“Setting what up?”
she demanded, pulling her hands free of his. “Where are we going?”

“It’s better if I
don’t tell you,” he replied, because if either of you were caught
and forced to talk, I’d lose any leverage I might have to get you
released.”

“And you really think
you can pull this off, Warren? I need to know, because you’re all
we have to believe in right now, and I need to know that you still
believe in yourself.”

“April, all I can say
is this,” he answered, gripping the back of the chair before him.
“I escaped from a strict-regime camp in the Yukon and walked over a
thousand miles to get here. I’ll find a way where there is no way.
Whoever or whatever has protected me so far, I have faith that it
won’t let me down now.”

And without another
word, he gathered both April and Caroline into his arms and held them
tight, as if he could etch the moment and the feeling of them into
his mind forever.

* * *

Linder spent the
night with April and Caroline in their motel room and rose early. He
found Yost waiting for him at eleven A.M., as planned, outside the
dollar store in the pickup truck that Yost had left at the farm the
previous day. On seeing the minivan approach, Yost parked the pickup
behind the dollar store and left it to join Linder. They role-played
the impending telephone call in the parking lot for nearly an hour
before taking the minivan another mile down the highway to a truck
stop, where a row of pay phones awaited them.

At noon, Linder exited
the van, approached the phone furthest from the gas pumps, and
dialed. He followed the automated prompts until at last he connected
with a live operator.

“Neil Denniston,
please,” he said.

“I’ll connect you
right away,” the operator replied after a brief pause.

“Denniston here,”
came the man’s familiar voice and, for a moment, Linder nearly
forgot his script.

“Hi, Neil, it’s
Warren. Did you get the message I left?”

“Yes,” Denniston
replied with a mix of caution and false bonhomie. “I’m so glad
you’ve decided to be sensible and give yourself up. Where are you
now?”

“You’ll find out
soon enough,” Linder answered. “After we come to terms.”

“You know I can’t
make any promises without getting approval first.”

“I’ve allowed for
that,” Linder said. “Now, here’s what I want from you. I’m
offering you the same deal that Philip Eaton proposed to the
government last year. I’ll surrender, provided that the Department
guarantees amnesty and safe passage for my sister April, Caroline
Kendall and my business partner, Jay Becker, none of whom has
committed any crime other than associating with me.”

“Why should we give
you that when we’re going to capture you all, anyway?” Denniston
boasted. “Besides, Caroline Kendall can leave the country with her
mother and stepfather any time she pleases. They’ve already agreed
to sign over the Eaton trust funds in exchange for exit visas and a
finder’s fee. So you’re not doing the girl any favors by holding
her hostage like this.”

“Patricia and Roger
are dead, Neil, and you know it. Without Caroline, you can’t get at
the trusts. So, cut the crap. Now, what if I were able offer you
something better than the Eaton family trusts? Would a room full of
gold and art objects be enough to change your mind?”

“Ahh, Eaton’s
legendary bank treasure,” Denniston mocked.

“Don’t try that on
me,” Linder snapped. “You and I know it’s real because we both
saw the empty vaults. Now, how would you like to be the one who
finally brings the treasure home to Uncle Sugar?”

“How do I know you’re
not bluffing? We’d need to see it first,” Denniston demanded.

“Understood,”
Linder agreed. “But how do I know you won’t welsh on your side of
the deal once I show it to you?”

“You don’t,”
Denniston answered. “But you ought to know more than anyone that
the DSS couldn’t function if it didn’t make good on its deals
with informants and collaborators. If you lead us to Eaton’s gold
cache, I’ll personally escort you and your people onto the next
commercial flight to wherever you want to go. Why would we need to
keep you once we had the gold?”

Why does a scorpion
sting?
Linder wanted to ask, but held his tongue.

“All right then, meet
me tonight in Cleveland,” Linder said after a pause. “Give me a
dial-in number and I’ll call you when I’m ready. Can you be at
Hopkins Airport by seven with a new passport and exit visa for each
of us?”

“The documents will
be a stretch. Better make it eight o’clock,” Denniston proposed
before giving Linder the phone number where he could be reached on
arrival in Cleveland.

“One last thing,”
Linder added. “Feel free to bring as many goons as you please. I
figured you would, anyway.”

Linder hung up the
phone and returned to the car.

“Let’s get out of
here,” he said to Yost on closing the car door.

“Did he take the
bait?” Yost asked.

“All the way,”
Linder replied with a grim smile.

“Fine. Then let’s
rendezvous with your man Jay and head over to the farm,” Yost
responded. “If all goes as planned, we’ll all be steaming
blissfully toward Buffalo by bedtime tonight.”

But Linder felt far
from blissful. While prepared to sacrifice himself, if necessary, to
save the others, he did not feel comfortable with a plan that relied
even indirectly on promises from a professional liar like Denniston.
While Yost’s plan had taken into account a number of ways in which
their deal with the DSS might go awry, Linder knew that Denniston’s
capacity for deceit knew no limits.

The pair linked up with
Jay and his truck in the bedroom community of Brunswick and motored
on through Medina to Yost’s farm, where they spent the entire
afternoon making use of the tools and supplies Linder and Yost had
purchased the day before. As the sun sank toward the horizon, Linder
removed his work gloves and sat on an upturned bucket inside the
barn.

“My God, Charlie,”
he told Yost. “I haven’t worked so hard since I was on your
logging crew in the Yukon. I’m getting too old for this.”