Exile Hunter by Preston Fleming Read Free Book Online

had become
so troubled over what America was becoming that he began moving his
family’s wealth offshore. During the summer before the President’s
reelection, Philip decamped for London and devoted his full energy
and most of his personal fortune to opposing Unionism. Two years
later, in the final months of the civil war, the Unionists accused
him of having organized the looting of Cleveland’s downtown banks
and spiriting hundreds of millions in stolen property out of the
country to fund the rebel militias. They’ve been after him ever
since.”
    “You say ‘accused,’”
Linder interrupted with a curious smile. “Are you saying that he
played no role in looting the banks?” Having worked under cover
against the Cleveland militias, Linder knew very well that Eaton had
engineered the robbery. And from any perspective, it had been a
masterstroke.
    Kendall gave a gentle
laugh. He was clearly warming to his visitor now, and Linder laughed
with him.
    “I’ll let Philip
answer that for himself,” Kendall answered. “The point is, there
have been no fewer than three documented assassination attempts
against my father-in-law, two of them in Britain and another in
Switzerland, before Philip decided to drop out of sight. He came to
Beirut earlier this year, only after the President-for-Life died and
the DSS Chief who signed Philip’s death warrant was purged.”
    “I’m not sure it’s
a good bet that the next DSS Chief will be kinder and gentler than
the last,” Linder commented, taking a leisurely look around the
room. “And if Philip didn’t feel safe in London or Basel, why on
earth come to Beirut? A place whose name is synonymous with terrorism
and violence seems an odd place for a fugitive to escape the reach of
the world’s most powerful police state.”
    “On the contrary,”
Kendall replied. “Beirut has been a haven for rebels and fugitives
for centuries, even during its own civil war. Besides that, Beirut
became a home-away-from-home to Philip during a college year at the
American University, where he met his late wife, who was from a
prominent Maronite clan here.”
    “Rather like a
American mafioso hiding out with relatives in Sicily,”
Linder acknowledged with a smile.
    Kendall wrinkled his
nose. “I suppose so,” he conceded reluctantly before continuing.
“But now that Lebanon has regained its position as an international
banking center with some of the world’s strictest bank secrecy
laws, Beirut has become an excellent place for Philip to spend his
final years. You see, Lebanon has put out the welcome mat for wealthy
visitors of every political stripe and will not tolerate meddling
from overzealous foreign security services. And certainly not if the
visitor’s bank balances qualify him for permanent residence.”
    Linder smiled and gave
a murmur of appreciation. Hearing about Eaton from Kendall’s
perspective renewed his private respect for Eaton, who was celebrated
in rebel circles for his modesty, self-sacrifice, personal integrity,
and his implacable stance against Unionist tyranny.
    Linder held this
thought for a moment while Roger dropped a clump of ice cubes into
both men’s glasses from the stainless steel bucket and filled them
with mineral water. Upon hearing the clink of ice and taking the
ice-filled glass in his hand, Linder felt a chill shoot up his arm
and sensed that he had won the introduction he was after.
    Roger summoned a waiter
and asked for a phone to be brought to the table. Once it arrived, he
dialed and Linder overheard a busy signal on the line. Roger dialed
twice more while they ate before asking the waiter at last for the
bill.
    “It’s still busy,”
Kendall said. “Philip intended to meet us here, but his flat isn’t
far away. If you have time, perhaps we could swing by to see if he’s
still available.”
    Linder was amazed at
the offer.
    “If your
father-in-law has been the target of three attempts on his life, I
can understand why he might not want to