The Spoils of War

The Spoils of War
Gordon Kent

An exhilarating tale of modern espionage and adventure featuring US Navy intelligence officer Alan Craik.In Tel Aviv, Commander Alan Craik, a US Navy veteran agrees to check out the death of a former Navy enlisted employee. He plans to be out the door and on to his real work in half an hour. But the task quickly turns dangerous, and what should have been a routine investigation becomes something very ugly.Nominal American allies in Israel withhold or alter information; nominal colleagues at home set up their own operation to satisfy the political needs of Washington; a wife betrays her husband and deceit and distrust prove to be the only common denominator.When Mike Dukas, a dogged, cynical special agent of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service joins the investigation, it leads them all from Tel Aviv to Gaza and the Greek island of Lesvos to Jerry Piat, a renegade CIA officer.With agents of Mossad and the Palestinian Authority always close behind them, Alan Craik demands the answers to some far-reaching questions. What are the rules in modern conflict? Where is honour? And what is the cost of telling the truth?

The Spoils of War

Gordon Kent

T. Cuyler young

Donald G. Cameron

They went further than seemed possible

Table of Contents

Cover Page (#u639fa146-9ee9-5580-92dd-003b86ecbd4a)

Title Page (#u55e9b6ea-fd6f-5716-8217-0add2b9ae579)

Excerpt (#u61b4d156-86d7-5237-8595-49f7c69b23ab)

Prologue (#u2c64a9ba-8bad-5989-b292-2fa9b6f9c903)

Part One (#ue907facd-03d8-5432-a198-a1ed1728fc13)

1 (#u01d2aa9b-1d56-5a2a-bd69-559fe670cf2d)

2 (#u75353a8d-a49c-50c8-a0e5-32249d0fc787)

3 (#u279abf43-685e-5e0d-aaf2-d27d540e18d9)

4 (#ue9e15a1b-98f1-55ef-a51c-e949d7b7dd43)

5 (#u71105eb0-76a0-56f1-84eb-7ca2cd558d93)

6 (#u681e66f0-6f99-5131-84b2-e1743c015b9d)

7 (#u48129a15-f2aa-53bc-b04e-b0f35ed4b0c5)

8 (#ubb86575f-e8ef-5eed-a0d4-0965e4797223)

9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Part Two (#litres_trial_promo)

10 (#litres_trial_promo)

11 (#litres_trial_promo)

12 (#litres_trial_promo)

13 (#litres_trial_promo)

14 (#litres_trial_promo)

15 (#litres_trial_promo)

16 (#litres_trial_promo)

17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Part Three (#litres_trial_promo)

18 (#litres_trial_promo)

19 (#litres_trial_promo)

20 (#litres_trial_promo)

Coda (#litres_trial_promo)

About The Author (#litres_trial_promo)

Other Books By (#litres_trial_promo)

Praise (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue (#ulink_79391915-5a66-574f-a22e-0acf5c652d45)

The Kosovo-Albania Border, 1997

The late afternoon rain sent the Albanian soldiers into the cover of the trees. Dukas thought the move was probably for the best. What he had seen of the Albanians scared him, and he was glad when they walked off up the road to the stand of oak trees, shouting at each other and carrying their rifles across their necks like ox yokes.

The rain beat on the windshield of Dukas’s borrowed Land Rover and the wipers droned back and forth, harmonizing with the heater and the raindrops on the roof, washing away some of the mud accumulated in a nine-hour drive across “the former Yugoslavia.” There was mud from Bosnia and mud from Croatia and a little mud from Kosovo, all washing off into the ruined tarmac of a road in Albania.

“Have a little faith, okay,” muttered the Mossad guy in the back seat. Actually, there were two Mossad guys in the back seat, but one of them was so obviously a bureaucratic functionary that Dukas ignored him. Dukas tried to adjust his body language so that he was not telegraphing his views on the afternoon quite so blatantly. He looked back.

“When do you want to call this off?” he asked.

“Give the man another hour.”

His name was Shlomo, he had said. Dukas thought the name was funny, but the man himself was serious. Now, he moved his hand slightly to indicate that, no, he didn’t expect their quarry to appear either, and that, yes, they were going to wait an hour because he, Shlomo, was under the scrutiny of someone who had sent a bureaucrat to watch him.

Dukas liked Shlomo. And he didn’t mind helping the Israelis, as long as his own investigations into Bosnian Muslim war crimes benefited from helping them. He pulled a headset up over his ears and keyed his radio.