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Somewhere in the Balkans, November 1918. The Allies' victory on the Salonika front is strengthening and consolidating their victories on other fronts. Conan played his part in it. Anyone can kill a guy, but to kill him in a way that strikes fear into the skulls of ten thousand other guys takes something special. That was the job of Conan and his gang, the forerunners of today's irregular hit squads. But when the dirty war is over they are told to hide their knives, their bloody hands, their faces, their memories of slaying, and even the medals they won. The trouble is, wars can finish overnight but the souls of warriors aren't so quick to forget the thrill of combat.