Having sex with him had been both incredible and inevitable and was something she’d never regret, no matter how awful he’d been weeks later. She touched her belly. At a little over eleven weeks, she wasn’t showing, but her uterus was firmer. She couldn’t feel that firmness under the padded raincoat, but the reflexive touch comforted just the same. Later, she’d tell him she was pregnant, and maybe, just maybe, it would be joyous news, shared with excitement.
They were a long way from anything close to settled, but at least she had a respite from the seething anger. She used the hope she and Xavier could salvage a workable relationship for the sake of their child to tamp down her fear.
Because fear threatened to swallow her whole. Her worry for George had expanded to include the SEAL team that was en route along with Xavier and his team of trainers.
Strange that the fear for herself was more focused on the baby she carried, even though it had only just transitioned from embryo to fetus. According to the week-by-week pregnancy guide, her fetus was the size of a fig.
She followed Xavier as they cut a path through the woods, focusing on the little fig that would change her life and the man before her who might play a huge role in that new reality.
As she followed him, she made every effort to move with the same degree of stealth he’d mastered. She’d never aimed for silence in the woods. The opposite, in fact. This was bear country, after all. With bears and cougars in the woods, silence was the enemy. It was better to warn animals of her presence than to stumble into their path, startling them both.
But she’d do as Xavier commanded, because at this point, it was clear anything they came across in these woods was far more dangerous than a hibernating bear.
Xavier wanted to break into a full run, but Audrey wouldn’t be able to keep up and be silent. There were people in these woods. He could feel them. They might not have eyes on him and Audrey, but they were nearby.
They reached the maintained path, wide enough for tourists to walk side by side, but in need of maintenance now that it was winter. But the trail was clear enough that he and Audrey could move faster without making noise.
He checked his watch. Dread ran down his spine.
If everything had gone according to plan with Naval Special Warfare Command, the team would be jumping any time now.
There was nothing like the adrenaline rush of a HALO jump. Nothing like landing in enemy territory, loaded with gear and ready for battle. But this was meant to be an exercise. The team didn’t know they were jumping into enemy-held territory for real. SEALs were the best of the best, but they’d be fighting real bullets with fucking paint pellets.
He needed to get to the landline phone in the yurt. Now.
He broke into a run. Forget stealth, it took too much time. He could hear Audrey behind him, keeping pace on the smooth trail. He saw the spire of the yurt through the trees and turned, leading her downslope, off the path.
He came to an abrupt halt when he reached the road. Shit. The nearest culvert to cross under the road was at least a half a klick away. The fastest route to the yurt and a working landline phone was across the two-lane forest road that dead-ended at the lodge complex.
They’d be exposed, but he was out of time.
He turned to Audrey and whispered, “I want you to stay here. Tuck down in the well of a tree. Hide. I need to cross, and I don’t want you exposed.”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to be alone out here. There’s a culvert—”
“I know. But it’s too far. We’re out of time.”
“Then let’s go.”
Without further argument, he did. Every second mattered.
He crouched low and darted across the street, diving for a thicket of trees that hugged the opposite side. Audrey kept pace with him, and together, they wove through the small cluster and made their way to the back of the yurt.
He slowed as he approached the command center. He couldn’t screw up now. This wasn’t a training anymore; this was an op. He had to scope out the yurt before stepping inside.
The round house looked quiet on its perch above the lake. A light rain had begun as they trod the path, and he could see the dark mass of the lake as raindrops littered the surface. The forecast had indicated the wind would pick up after nineteen hundred hours, which was another reason they’d bumped up the time for the jump.
The team would have to deal with cold rain and cold lake, but wouldn’t face a fierce wind from the get-go.
For their part, the SEALs would be pumped, at the peak of their game. Even armed only with Simunition, they’d be hard to take down.
Xavier felt a fierce pride. He was one of them. The old man now with a bum shoulder, but still one of them.
The man he’d fought on the ledge had been trained. Well. He knew how to fight. Xavier’s loss of range of motion in his shoulder had given the tango the advantage. That didn’t bode well for his team. He had to assume they were all equally trained.
Who were they? What was their goal here?
Beyond destroying a platoon of SEALs, that is. He assumed there was a bigger objective, although the humiliation of destroying a team on American soil might be enough.