Enemy Infiltration

  She’d lost her brother.

  Can a jaded Delta Force soldier help her find out why?

  Strong-willed Lana Moreno won’t rest until she finds out the truth about her heroic brother’s death. And neither will Logan Hess, whose covert government mission soon becomes entwined with another goal: protecting Lana. On Logan’s Texas ranch, these unlikely partners are fighting to understand what really happened overseas while sparks ignite between them. But their investigation quickly provokes a firestorm of consequences—and attention from all the wrong people.

  “Whatever you do, don’t give in.”

  “Come here.”

  He stroked her hair, and then he took her by the shoulders and gently pushed her away, looking into her face.

  She blinked as if emerging from a sweet, sweet dream. “What was that for?”

  “You looked like you needed a hug, and I know I sure as hell did.”

  “Any time, Tex.” Tilting her head, she touched her cheek to the back of his hand. “You ready to enter the lion’s den now?”

  “As long as you stick by my side.”

  “You’ve been by mine all this time. Where else would I be?”

  His thumbs inched up the sides of her neck until he wedged one beneath her chin. He slanted his mouth across hers and caressed her lips with his.

  When he drew away, he brushed his thumb against her throbbing lower lip. “Do I have to apologize for that?”

  ENEMY INFILTRATION

  Carol Ericson

  Carol Ericson is a bestselling, award-winning author of more than forty books. She has an eerie fascination for true-crime stories, a love of film noir and a weakness for reality TV, all of which fuel her imagination to create her own tales of murder, mayhem and mystery. To find out more about Carol and her current projects, please visit her website at www.carolericson.com, “where romance flirts with danger.”

  Books by Carol Ericson

  Harlequin Intrigue

  Her Alibi

  Red, White and Built: Delta Force Deliverance

  Enemy Infiltration

  Red, White and Built: Pumped Up

  Delta Force Defender

  Delta Force Daddy

  Delta Force Die Hard

  Red, White and Built

  Locked, Loaded and SEALed

  Alpha Bravo SEAL

  Bullseye: SEAL

  Point Blank SEAL

  Secured by the SEAL

  Bulletproof SEAL

  Target: Timberline

  Single Father Sheriff

  Sudden Second Chance

  Army Ranger Redemption

  In the Arms of the Enemy

  Brothers in Arms: Retribution

  Under Fire

  The Pregnancy Plot

  Navy SEAL Spy

  Secret Agent Santa

  Harlequin Intrigue Noir

  Toxic

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Lana Moreno—The unusual circumstances surrounding the death of her brother prompt this headstrong horse trainer to push for answers, but somebody is pushing back and Lana is forced to seek protection from the one man who may hold the key to her brother’s murder.

  Logan Hess—Determined to clear his Delta Force commander’s name, Logan seeks out the sister of a marine killed at an embassy outpost and discovers she’s in possession of information that has endangered her. Now his desire to protect Lana is as great as his duty to exonerate his commander.

  Gilbert Moreno—This marine was killed while guarding an embassy outpost, but before he died, he kept a journal detailing strange events at the embassy.

  Drew Halliday—The new ranch hand at Logan’s family’s ranch attracts the attention of Logan’s sister, but the timing of his arrival might be more than a coincidence.

  Alexa Hess—Logan’s younger sister is a wild child, but will her high spirits jeopardize Logan’s investigation and put Lana in harm’s way?

  Maj Rex Denver—Framed for working with a terrorist group, the Delta Force commander has gone AWOL and is on the run, but he knows he can count on his squad to have his back and help clear his name.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Ransom at Christmas by Barb Han

  Prologue

  He grabbed the barrel of the old Kalashnikov as he took his place around the fire and yanked it away from him and toward the wall of the hut. “How do you expect me to think with that in my face?”

  Rafi, the leader of the group, kicked at a mound of dirt in front of the man hoisting the rifle. “No need for that, Mateen. We’ve taken Major Denver’s weapons from him.”

  “He’s Delta Force.” Mateen spit into the dirt. “He could use your shoe as a weapon and you wouldn’t even know it was off your foot.”

  The other men around the circle laughed and Denver chuckled along with them. Good to know Delta Force still struck fear in the hearts of enemies and frenemies alike, and Mateen wasn’t too far off the mark with his comment.

  Denver crossed his legs beneath him and stretched out his hands to the crackling fire. He winked at Massoud, the boy who’d brought him down from the mountain, now crouched behind his father, Rafi. Massoud offered a shy smile in return, his tough-guy bravado no longer necessary in the company of men.

  One of the men began handing around earthenware bowls of lamb stew, which Massoud’s mother had been cooking when they’d barged in on her. Denver hadn’t seen the woman since.

  He passed two bowls along the circle and claimed the third for his own, cupping his hands around smooth clay to warm them more than anything else. Then he tore off a piece of the flatbread making the rounds and plunged it into the steaming concoction, chock-full of chunks of lamb meat and vegetables.

  He blew on the bread, dripping gravy, and then shoved it into his mouth, burning his tongue, anyway. He didn’t care. The warmth and spices in the stew made his nose run, and he didn’t care about that, either.

  The other men must’ve been as hungry as he was. For several minutes, the only sounds from the hut with the dirt floor were slurping and chomping as the men gnawed the tough meat with their teeth and sopped up the gravy with the bread.

  When he finished, Denver wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and screwed the bowl into the dirt. “Now, tell me everything you know about Pazir and how our meeting was compromised.”

  Rafi raised his finger and then snapped. Massoud scurried around the circle, collecting all the bowls. He retreated to a corner and soaked up the dregs of everyone’s stew with the leftover bread he’d snatched from the fire.

  A pang of guilt shot through Denver’s now-full stomach. Massoud’s mother hadn’t cooked enough stew for an unexpected gathering like this. The men had eaten Massoud’s dinner and probably his mother’s, as well.

  Rafi folded his hands against his belly. “Pazir was foolish, a talker.”

  The other men nodded and grunted.

  “He told someone about our meeting?”

  “He told
many someones.” Rafi waved his hand, encompassing the men sitting at the fire. “We all knew about it.”

  “Is Pazir still alive?” Denver massaged his temple with two fingers, the smoke in the hut giving him a headache.

  “We don’t know.” Rafi shrugged. “When he found out what happened at the meeting place—an Army Ranger killed, one of your Delta Force team members going over the side of a cliff and you taking off—he disappeared.”

  “He could be dead.” Denver drew a cross in the dirt and then wiped it out with his fist.

  “No body.” One of the other men spoke up. “Al Tariq likes to send messages. No body, no message.”

  “If it was Al Tariq who disrupted the meeting. And my Delta Force teammate? Did you hear anything about him?” Denver held his breath. He’d tried to save Asher Knight by pushing him out of the way. His action had spared Knight the bullet, but he’d tumbled over the cliff’s edge instead.

  “Don’t know.” Rafi shook his head. “Didn’t hear.”

  Denver blew out a breath. The others had heard about the death of the Army Ranger, but not Asher. Maybe that meant he’d made it. “I need to get another meeting with Pazir. Can any of you facilitate that?”

  The men exchanged glances around the circle.

  One of the men coughed and swirled his hot tea in his cup. “That could be dangerous.”

  Another of the men jumped up and tossed the contents of his cup into the fire, which snapped and sizzled. “He’s dangerous. He shouldn’t be here. You should’ve killed him on the mountainside, Massoud.”

  “Enough.” Rafi sliced a hand through the air. “Major Denver is the enemy of our enemy. That is enough. Al Tariq has been inciting trouble and violence in the region for over a year now and doing it with secret international support. If Major Denver wants to end that, it’s good enough for me. It should be good enough for all of us.”

  A quiet man seated next to Rafi, who hadn’t said a word all night, stood up. “I know someone who can reach Pazir. The man has been working as a driver and translator like Pazir had been, and he might know where he is. He can let him know you survived and want to talk to him.”

  “I appreciate that.” Denver bowed his head. “I appreciate all of it.”

  Later that night after more tea and a shared hookah, Rafi allowed Denver to bunk down by the fire.

  With the rest of the inhabitants asleep in the hut, Denver rolled toward the fire and then away. He stretched out his legs and then brought his knees to his chest.

  The smoke had his head pounding again—or maybe it was the spicy lamb stew. He sat up and drew the rough blanket around his shoulders. Then he crept to the doorway of the hut.

  He slipped outside to inhale the cold, fresh air. His head jerked as a glimmer of light from the rocks at the bottom of the foothills caught his attention.

  He squinted into the darkness and saw a second point of light bobbing next to the first. He grabbed his weapon by the door, hoisted it and peered through the night scope.

  Uttering a curse, he tracked the guns bearing down on the village. He’d brought the enemy to their doorstep... Now nobody was safe.

  Chapter One

  Lana’s brown cowboy boots clumped over the wood floor of her congressman’s office building. As furtive glances followed her, she tipped back her head, nose in the air and took even heavier steps—the louder the better. She wanted to create a stir.

  “Miss, excuse me.” The blonde at the front desk half rose from her chair, phone at her ear. “Miss, you can’t go in there.”

  Lana spun around, one hand jiggling the locked doorknob, the other on her hip. “Because it’s locked or because I’m not welcome? I’m a taxpaying constituent.”

  “I’m sure you are, but Congressman Cordova is in a meeting right now.” The assistant waved her manicured fingers at a pathetic suggestion box stuck to the wall. “You’re welcome to leave a note.”

  “I’ve left notes. I’ve left voice mails. I’ve left emails.” Lana leveled a finger at the blond gatekeeper. “I’m pretty sure I’ve spoken to you on a number of occasions, and Congressman Cordova—” the name rolled off Lana’s tongue in a perfect Spanish accent “—has yet to return my notes, voice mails or emails. Excuse me if I have a hard time believing he’s going to check his suggestion box. I have a suggestion. Tell him to open this damned door and meet with one of his constituents.”

  The assistant plopped back down in her chair, swiveled away from Lana and whispered into the phone. She put down the receiver and cleared her throat. “If you’d like to leave your name and number, the congressman will call when he’s free.”

  “When will that be? Never?” Lana twisted the doorknob and kicked the door with the toe of her boot. “Open the door, or you’ll be sorry, Cordova.”

  The woman at the desk grabbed the phone again and held up the receiver, shaking it at Lana. “Miss, if you don’t leave at once, I’m calling security.”

  “Do it.” Lana leaned against the impenetrable door and folded her arms across her chest. “This will play well.”

  The blonde’s cool exterior and her voice finally cracked as she shouted into the phone, “Someone needs to get over here, right away.”

  Before the final word left her lips, two security guards charged through the side door of the building. Cordova’s office only gave the illusion of his approachability. Barriers and layers protected him from the common people just as surely as they had protected a czar from his serfs.

  As the two goons veered in her direction, Lana thrust out her hands. “I’m not going anywhere until I talk to my congressman. I pay his salary—yours, too.”

  “Ma’am.” The bigger security guard spread out his hands, which looked like slabs of pink beef. “Go about this the right way. Don’t cause any trouble today.”

  “Trouble?” Lana sniffed and blinked her eyes rapidly. She refused to give in to tears here. Did she have any left? “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

  The big guy rolled his eyes at his slightly smaller partner and said, “Are you even five feet tall? You’re not going to put up a fight, are you, ma’am?”

  Lana widened her stance, the heels of her boots digging into the polished floor. “Five foot two.”

  Security guard number two snorted. “Ma’am, you’re going to have to leave the premises, one way or another.”

  “How about you leave the premises, and I meet with my congressman.”

  “I—I can make an appointment for you with Congressman Cordova.” Cordova’s assistant swung her chair in front of her computer, her hands poised over the keyboard. “He’s free tomorrow at three o’clock. Will that work for you?”

  “Hmm.” Lana tapped a finger against her chin as she tilted her head to the side. “No. Right now works for me.”

  The taller, bigger, beefier security guard took a step forward. “Ma’am, this isn’t working for anyone right now. You’re going to have to leave and make an appointment through Tessa later.”

  “I don’t want to leave, and Cordova is never going to keep an appointment with me. I’m on his no-call list.” Lana ground her back teeth together.

  Tessa’s face blanched, almost matching the color of her hair. As the security duo moved forward with purpose, Tessa shouted, “Wait!”

  But the guards had both started speaking at once in coaxing tones as they moved in on Lana, drowning out Tessa’s exclamation.

  They each took one of Lana’s arms and peeled her off the congressman’s door. They started to march her toward the front entrance, the one facing the sidewalk, the one facing the public.

  Tessa had jumped from her seat, the chair banging against the wall behind her. “What’s your name? What’s your name?”

  Lana cranked her head over her shoulder and smiled at Tessa, her pale face now crumpled with worry. “Lana. Lana Moreno.”

  “Wait...don�
�t.” Tessa scurried around the desk, banging her hip on the corner.

  The security guards had embraced their mission and continued propelling Lana to the exit—flipping the congressman from the frying pan into the fire.

  The three of them burst through the double doors into the wintry Greenvale sun, straight into the arms of the media Lana had called earlier.

  Cameras zoomed in and microphones materialized out of thin air.

  “Did Congressman Cordova kick you out of his office, Lana?”

  “Did he have any answers for you?”

  “Do you think this shows his disdain for the military?”

  Both of the security guards dropped her arms so fast and at the same time, she listed to the side. The shorter guy growled. “What the hell is this?”

  “It’s a news conference, which never would’ve happened had Cordova agreed to meet with me.”

  She brushed off the sleeves of her brown suede jacket, tugged on its lapels and stepped in front of a microphone. “Yes, Congressman Luis Cordova refused to meet with me, and he’s refused to answer any of my emails. You can make your own determination whether or not that shows disrespect for our military as he continues to cover up the circumstances behind the deaths of three marines in Nigeria.”

  “Ms. Moreno.” The congressman magically appeared in the doorway behind her, his unctuous tone, as smooth as oil, swirling through the chaos on the sidewalk. “I was just finishing up with my meeting when I heard the commotion. I told my assistant to clear all my calls immediately. Come back into my office with me. I apologize for the misunderstanding.”

  Lana nodded, backed away from the mic and swept past the two security guards, now trying to keep the reporters from following her and the congressman.

  Five minutes later, ensconced in a deep leather chair across from Congressman Cordova, a glass of water in front of her, Lana took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I had to resort to those means, but you wouldn’t acknowledge any of my communications.”

  Cordova swept a hand over the top of his head, slicking his salt-and-pepper hair back from his forehead. “You saw the report, Ms. Moreno. There’s no mystery, no cover-up. Your brother and the other marines were attacked outside the embassy outpost by a band of marauding criminals. Nigeria can be a lawless place, especially away from the big cities.”