The Arrows of Islam Book 1 Part 1: The Ari Cohen Series

By Spencer Hawke

Ari Cohen has seen enough bloodshed to last him several lifetimes. As Mossad’s deadliest assassin, he’s prepared to swear off special assignments for good. But when a U.S. stealth bomber is shot down and stripped of its top-secret technology, Ari prepares for one last mission…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Spencer Hawke
• Release date: Nov 10, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386640189

Spencer Hawke

Spencer developed a love of reading during long winter nights growing up in the UK. His favorite genre during his early youth was action/adventure, historical fiction and espionage novels.  During the 1970's and 80's Ian Fleming with his James Bond series, 007, was a favorite. As Spencer's tastes matured he developed a love for authors like Wilbur Smith and James Mitchener.  These authors had a remarkable lasting effect on Spencer from whom he developed a love for Africa that endures to this day. His favorite books "River God: A novel of Ancient Eqypt, "Pharoah" and "Warlock" all Wilbur Smith best sellers. In addition, Wilbur Smith's Courtney series led to his love of traveling.  At 21, he took off for Africa and crossed the continent North to South through the Sahara, sometimes on foot, and in an old Land Rover which was more temperamental than the English weather..  It was during this adventure, when he was holed up in an abandoned French Foreign Legion outpost, called Fort Mirabelle, that he developed the story line for his first book, "Mystery of the Dead Sea Scrolls - Revealed".  The middle of the Sahara desert in Algeria, is a great catalyst for an over active imagination. Lots of cold desert nights watching camp fires in the distance and not knowing who was friend or foe!!!  Eight months later he finally rolled into South Africa bound for Australia, determined to swim the coral of the Great Barrier Reef. But fate had a different plan for Hawke. This is where James Mitchener's influence took over! Instead of Australia he turned west where the Americas were beckoning. Mitchener's novels, "Hawaii", "Mexico", "Texas" and "Alaska" asserted their influence. One of his proudest moments was when his second book, which has been renamed "The Arrows of Islam" was reviewed by "IndieReader". It received 5 stars with the following accolade, "Hawke's writing excels, especially during the book's many action sequences. The dialogue in the book is both crisp and tense but also humorous at times making for a captivating read that should now be mentioned in the same breath as genre masters - Daniel Silva, Brad Thor and To Clancy." High praise indeed!!!

Book preview

The Arrows

Of

Islam

Part 1

Spencer Hawke

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Learn how you can get a FREE copy of Journey of the Bell, the Ari Cohen Series, The Beginning… At the end of this book….

The Arrows of Islam Part 1 is the first book in the 4 book Ari Cohen Series. Part 2 of The Arrows of Islam is available for FREE just by telling me where to send your FREE download, more later.

Go to my website http://spencerhawke.com for the download.

To see my other Books Click http://spencerhawke.com/my-books

The Journey of the Bell, Prequel to the Ari Cohen Series

The Arrows of Islam, Book 1 of the Ari Cohen Series

The Swiss Conspiracy, Book 2 of the Ari Cohen Series

The Forgotten, Book 3 in the Ari Cohen Series

The Violinist, Book 4 in the Ari Cohen Series, Coming Soon

Mystery of the Dead Sea Scrolls – Revealed

http://spencerhawke.com/my-books

Copyright © 2014 Spencer Hawke

All Rights Reserved.

Spencer Hawke, www.spencerhawke.com

The Arrows of Islam

Acknowledgement

As an avid reader I have often glossed over the acknowledgement page penned by many successful authors as an introduction to a new novel. My mistake… The common denominator of these successful authors is that they have an unseen hero or heroine in the background without whom the novel might never have been read.

Many of you followers of Superman or Wonder Woman believe that this comic figure is the only superhero stronger than steel. You are sadly mistaken. There is one other figure flying over the vistas of Oklahoma. She is not only a woman of steel, but I swear (and she doesn't allow me to) she flies faster than a speeding bullet to my aid.

My unsung heroine in the background is none other than my ex-wife. She reads my manuscripts with the grace of a ballet dancer and the savoir-faire of a magician.

It is with the most sincere thanks and appreciation that we offer this book for your reading pleasure.

~ Spencer

FIND A SOLUTION

Athena Campus, Bethesda, Maryland

March 27, 1999

It was a quiet evening at the Athena Ops Center. Major Tom Burke was enjoying a cup of coffee in his office, his long legs stretched out with his feet on the desk in front of him. The rich aroma of the Columbian blend was tantalizing, and he closed his eyes, pushing his head back to luxuriate in the quiet, basking in a rare minute of solitude and peace in what was normally a hectic world.

Out of the blue, his office door catapulted open, slamming noisily into the wall behind. It was impossible to jump up, drop his feet to the floor and spin around without spilling his coffee. Burke looked around angrily, feeling the heat of his coffee spreading down his leg, to see a junior analyst standing in the doorway, panting as if he had been running.

Sir! the young man shouted, I just saw a Reuters report in the break room; a U.S. Stealth F-117 Bomber has been shot down over Bosnia.

Burke ignored the coffee running from the pool atop his desk full of drenched reports to the floor. He immediately did two things. First, following protocol, he placed a call to his direct superior; the Athena Board Member from Massachusetts who was on call that night. That completed, he switched on the television to see if the 10 p.m. NBC Nightly News had any more information. He was just in time to hear a newsflash.

"This is Tom Brokaw reporting from New York. NBC News can now confirm that a U.S. Air Force B-117 Stealth Bomber was shot down over Bosnia today. The unthinkable has happened.

An ‘undetectable’ Stealth Bomber has somehow been discovered during operations in enemy territory over Bosnia and Serbia.

The exact location is being withheld by the military for reasons of national security.

It is believed that the pilot ejected safely behind enemy lines. We can only assume now that the question is, will the enemy find him first or can American rescue teams get there in time? As the pre-dawn darkness clears in Eastern Europe, the race is on.

Burke switched off the set. All he could think was, Why does this have to happen on my first day in charge of the OPs center?

He was an old hand around Athena, having been part of the organization for more than a decade. He was an agent before becoming a handler and was now moving into leadership of the whole OPs center at Bethesda. He was seasoned, and not much got to him, but having a major international incident go down within the first four hours of your first day in charge was just a little unnerving.

To make matters worse, his direct superior had not returned his call. Burke was analyzing all the possibilities, planning what he would do if the Member from Massachusetts did not get back with him.

His thoughts were interrupted by the main telephone ringing. Thinking it may be the Member from Massachusetts returning his call, he grabbed the phone quickly and practically shouted into the receiver, Sir, thank you for calling me back; we might have an ‘issue’ here.

Burke was startled to hear a voice very different from the one he was expecting. This is George Tenet calling.

Through his surprise, Burke managed a response.

This is a secure line, Mister. You must have a wrong number. I’d appreciate you not calling this number again.

The caller was also surprised at hearing someone in the intelligence community not recognizing his name. He raised his voice an octave, I think if anyone in this country can call a secure line it would be me, sonny boy.

Burke, still in a state of confusion, was determined to follow protocol to the letter. What did you say your name was, Sir?

George Tenet... the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency.

Realization suddenly slammed into Burke like a flaming meteorite. He was so surprised that he leaped from his seat in an involuntary urge to salute the well-respected leader of the premier spy agency in America.

Stating the obvious, he stammered, I wasn’t expecting you to call, Sir. I didn’t think you were aware of our existence.

Burke, we don’t have time for small talk. Your boss is in the situation room at the White House with the President. You’ve heard the news, haven’t you?

Yes, Sir.

We have to move quick, son. We already have an elite team on its way to Yugoslavia to rescue the pilot. But these Navy SEAL paratroopers are going to stand out like chocolate chips in vanilla ice cream without some assistance on the ground. I need someone there to meet them or they’ll be minced meat, Tenet added.

I need someone there who knows the country, speaks the language, and knows the people. Once they hit the ground, they will need someone to help them fulfill their mission and get back to a safety zone for extraction.

That makes sense, Sir. Burke said no more, expecting Tenet to continue with the reason for his call.

I don’t think you do get it, sonny boy. I want you to solve my problem.

Burke was still not following Tenet’s line of thought.

Your problem Sir?

Tenet was sighing, exasperated. Yes, Burke. Get me someone on the ground.

Yes, Sir. I’ll have to make arrangements ... I’m not sure how close our nearest agent would be...

Tenet sighed again. "Think outside the box, boy. Mossad has been running OPs in that area for months now. The President, your

Boss and I want you to call your friend Ben Rosenberg in Tel Aviv and get him to put his best man with Bosnia and Serbia experience on a plane to the crash site in the next 30 minutes."

He paused to let Burke grasp his orders. It is vital that the pilot not fall into enemy hands. We’re clear on that, right, Burke? He has information on the functioning aspects of that technology that we don’t need anyone else getting hold of, correct?

Of course, Sir.

"Well, Burke, that team will need to do more than rescue the pilot, if possible. From what we can tell, the self-destruct mechanism in the Stealth malfunctioned.

"That means all that super-secret technology is just laying out there in a field there behind enemy lines just ripe for the taking. We need our boys try to destroy that plane if necessary.

And it won’t be a walk in the park, either, Tenet added. "In case your special little geeks there haven’t alerted you yet, satellite imagery is showing us what we believe to be a large concentration of Yugoslav troops mobilizing in an area less than an hour from the crash site. We’ve got to believe they’re after our pilot and our plane.

Yes, Sir. Burke sounded as if he were still working through the issue in his head.

So find someone fast, Burke, and find someone good. I mean, really good. He needs to not only keep up with my Navy SEALS, he needs to add to everything they’re bringing to the table. When he’s airborne, we will synchronize his arrival with our special team. Got it?

Burke was dialing the phone almost as quickly as he hung up the receiver. It was going to be a long first day...

Yugoslavia

Ari Cohen hit the ground hard, rolling forward in a standard maneuver designed to reduce impact from a fast landing. He came to a halt and crouched down on one knee while he pulled in his straps.

He breathed in deeply, enjoying the familiar scent of evergreen from the nearby forest. He checked out his perimeter, the smell bringing back childhood memories of boar hunting trips he used to make with his uncle.

In those days, all he had to worry about was disturbing an angry wild pig, disrupted as he was foraging through fields and forests in search of his favorite food – the morel mushroom.

Ari reminisced as he waited for his senses to adjust to his new environment away from the noise of the military transport plane that released him less than three minutes ago.

His uncle used to love hunting pigs, watching them roast over a large spit in the family room of the local inn. His uncle’s ulterior motive was that the pigs used to eat the morels he wanted to buy, so culling the local population made economic sense. Uncle Bruno made a good profit taking the mushrooms back to Italy to sell in his grocery store.

But those carefree days were long gone. Today Ari had to concern himself with a country gone mad fighting a civil war that pit sons against fathers and brothers against brothers, all started by power-hungry oligarchs trying to spread their wealth and influence.

The chief agitator was Russia, now trying to spread her influence through Bosnia-Herzegovina.

Ari was within 5 miles of the Stealth crash site. He knew he would not be the only one searching for the downed pilot. He had been warned by his boss and recruiter, Ben Rosenberg, in Tel Aviv before he left.

The Stealth bomber is a very advanced technology but the homing beacon used by the U.S. Air Force is so old that the Russians, the Yugoslavs and the Iranians will also be able to track it. In fact, it’s so antiquated, even the Romans could home in on it, Ben had said with sarcasm. Be careful; they might even be broadcasting a false signal to lead you into a trap.

Ari checked his watch; twenty minutes to the main drop. He pulled out his GPS device; he was within 1 1/2 miles of the drop zone.

He whispered a silent prayer, adding just under his breath, I hope it’s secure. He knew if the enemy could track a stealth bomber, it stood to reason that they would be able to track the transport plane the SEAL paratroopers were going to use.

Shortly after midnight, Ari was in position, his Uzi cocked and on semi-automatic, his knives – his preferred weapon – ready for instant retrieval. He checked his watch again; two minutes to drop. He thought he heard the distant throb of airplane engines. He was ready. He checked the locater beacon; the pilot was three miles away.

A scowl formed on his dark features. Wait a minute. That can’t be right, he whispered into the darkness. There was another, fainter signal coming from close by.

That does not make sense. Ari pulled out his night-vision binoculars, searching the edge of the landing zone; all clear.

Suddenly, he picked up movement, an animal? He zoomed in closer, trying to keep his hand steady despite the flies swarming irritatingly around his exposed neck. He ignored them. He was right, somebody was there, dressed in black, an ammunition belt swung nonchalantly around his torso like a Mexican bandito.

It was his posture that worried Ari. He had his head cocked slightly to one side; he was listening for something. That could mean only one thing; the enemy knew the paratroopers were coming.

How? he gasped through gritted teeth. A question for later; now was the time to act and act fast.

Ari had been told to maintain absolute radio silence. Ignoring those orders, he switched on his microphone. Abort! Abort! he spoke as loudly into the mic as he dared without being heard by the intruder across the way.

No response; Ari knew he was too late. They were going to jump into an ambush.

He pulled his silenced FN into position and centered the scope to the edge of the forest with the cross-hairs closing in on the soldier. Ari could see him swatting at flies around his face.

Ari fired and watched through the telescopic sight. It was as if in slow motion; his target stopped suddenly, the hand that had been chasing away flies, ceased in mid-swing – almost as if he had seen the muzzle flash.

The target’s head turned toward Ari like he could see him. His eyes seemingly grew larger, like he could focus on the leaden projectile barreling toward him. Then the target’s head suddenly dropped forward, then backward, as his body jerked back into a tree. Ari could