Undercover Accomplice. Carol Ericson

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       Prologue

      He ducked into the cave and swept the beam from the weak flashlight around the small space. Releasing a frosty breath, he slid down the wall of the cave into a crouch and faced the entrance, balancing his weapon on his knees.

      After he’d helped Rafi and the others fight off the intruders who’d attacked their village, he took off for the hills—but not before he’d arranged another meeting with Pazir.

      The last time he’d tried to meet with Pazir, it had led to the death of an army ranger, the possible death of one of his Delta Force team members and his own decision to go AWOL. He hoped for a better result this time.

      A bush outside the cave rustled and he coiled his thigh muscles, getting ready to spring. His trigger finger twitched.

      A harsh whisper echoed in the darkness. “Denver? Major Denver?”

      He rose slowly, his jacket scraping the wall of the cave, the light from his flashlight illuminating a figure on hands and knees at the cave’s entrance. “If you have any weapons, toss them in first. If you’re not alone…you soon will be.”

      Pazir sat back on his heels and tossed a small pistol onto the dirt floor. He rummaged through the clothes on his body and flicked a knife through the air. It landed point down on the ground.

      “That’s all I have.” Pazir continued forward on his knees, his hands in the air. “I had nothing to do with the ambush at our previous meeting. I barely got out of there with my life.”

      “The other Delta Force soldier? Asher Knight? Do you know what happened to him?”

      “He survived.”

      Denver almost sank to the dirt again as relief coursed through his rigid muscles. “You know that for sure?”

      “I know that he and the others are challenging the story that’s out there about you.”

      “They are?” Denver’s spine stiffened, and he lined it up against the cave wall again.

      “Your men are loyal to you, Denver.”

      “But they haven’t cleared me yet?”

      “They’re getting close. My sources tell me there’s a battle raging about your guilt in the highest levels of government.”

      “You have good sources, Pazir.” Denver gestured with his weapon. “Sit. What else have they told you? What do you know about those weapons at the embassy outpost in Nigeria? What do you know about the car bomb at the Syrian refugee camp?”

      “Al Tariq.”

      Denver cleared his throat and spit. “Too small. I know that group and there’s no way they could pull off what they’re doing.”

      “They’re the front group in the region. They’re being used to do some of the grunt work. They’re being used to track you down.”

      “By whom? Who’s behind this and what do they want?”

      “As far as I know, it’s an international group, moles from different government agencies working together. They want weapons, and they’re close to getting their hands on a nuclear device.”

      Denver swore, finally loosening the grip on his weapon. “That’s what I was afraid of, and now you’ve just confirmed it.”

      “Has to be more than a rumor, Denver.”

      “I wanna know who’s at the top. It’s not good enough to finger Al Tariq.”

      Pazir scratched his beard and squatted across from Denver. “I know Al Tariq wasn’t responsible for kidnapping that CIA agent.”

      “That female?”

      “She was getting too close to the truth—just like you.”

      “They released her.”

      “She escaped.”