Chapter 1

Harry Benson sprinted down the narrow street of clay-built homes, the sun burning overhead in the relentless blue sky. As he rounded a corner, bullets chipped the wall beside him and spattered his face with baked clay. His heart sputtered. How had he missed that guard on the rooftop?

Unfamiliar with this sector of Lebatu’s capital city, Harry ducked into an alley. He spun around, searching for a way out as boots crunched on the hard-packed earth. Trapped. The hair lifted off Harry’s neck, and the faces of his son and a beautiful redhead flashed before his eyes.

Farther down the alley, a narrow staircase outside the exterior of a humble dwelling caught his eye. Pivoting, Harry pounded across the narrow lane and made it three-quarters of the way up the stairs before two soldiers entered the alley below his feet.

Harry pressed against the terra cotta wall and prayed the shadows would hide his body. His chest heaved as he attempted to catch his breath. Beneath him, General Nheshal’s soldiers, armed to the teeth, advanced down the alley, yelling to one another in Arabic.

Snatching loose rocks off the step above, Harry lobbed them toward the next dwelling. The stones struck the building and thudded to the ground. Immediately, the soldiers swung in that direction. Bullets whizzed and embedded in the adobe heartbeats later.

Harry bolted up the last few steps to the roof. Before he could take cover, one of the soldiers shouted and pointed him out to his companion. Harry darted under a colorful canopy and ducked behind a table. Feet pounded up the stairs, and leaded death pattered like hail around him. A whiff of singed material made him check his djellaba, the long, tan robe covering his western clothes. The material sported several new holes.

Adrenaline surged, and Harry darted across the roof tiles, tugging down multihued canopies as he ran to cover his progress. He reached the edge and jumped the five-meter gap to the next building. When his feet hit the rooftop, he rolled. The men opened fire and peppered the air as they obtained the rooftop dwelling behind him.

Ducking around a chimney, Harry glanced about, searching for a way down. An awning or a donkey cart would be nice right about now—or even a clothesline. Unfortunately, he came up empty.

He poked his head over the edge of the roofline and spied an open window directly below. Gripping the roof’s border, he swung his body over the edge, then landed feetfirst into the room. Thud. He rolled on the tile floor.

A woman gasped, lifting a veil to cover her face as she rose from her chair. Harry’s heart squelched. If she squawked, he would be forced to quiet her.

“Shhh.” Harry covered his mouth with an index finger. “I don’t want to hurt you.”