Four men had gathered around the coffee table where the framed map from the wall now lay.

Xavier turned, presenting his back to the others. Only she was able to see his face as he smiled at her in the dim light. She felt his gaze as the caress it was meant to be. His features shuttered, and he turned back to the team.

When she reached the table, he said, “You should still be sleeping. I wasn’t going to wake you for another half hour.”

“We should go soon. While it’s still full dark. Put some distance between us and the lodge before the sun rises.”

“You sure you’re up for it?” His gaze probed her face, and she knew he was worried about her pushing too hard. He was probably worried about the baby, but she was in good physical shape, so there was little risk as far as the pregnancy was concerned.

“I can do it.”

He gave a sharp nod. He was in professional mode in front of the others. She was glad for it.

It took less than ten minutes to go over their plans once again and to receive a full debriefing on intel gathered during the hours they slept.

A thorough search of the boathouse, shop, and other buildings in the lodge complex had been conducted, turning up no trace of the missing SEALs or the mercenary team’s refuge.

In her absence, they’d come up with an estimate of the number of mercenaries unaccounted for. They guessed that the leader—who, she now learned, had remained masked in front of the hostages—and five minions remained at large.

The general consensus was they were holed up in one of the inholding cabins, but that search would take an entire day and could be a moving target if the mercs had divided and were on the run.

No one believed they’d left the forest. They’d had an end goal that wasn’t met. They’d taken hostages instead of killing them, and for some reason, they wanted Xavier and her.

The men were still in the forest somewhere, and they had three SEAL hostages with them.

The alternative—that the SEALs had been killed instead of taken hostage—was unfathomable and not discussed as an option.

They were alive until proven otherwise.

The trainer who was a medic—Smith—was now resting upstairs in the same room with the wounded SEAL. It was unlikely the injured man would wake and be coherent enough to share his story, but if he did, the medic would be there to find out what happened to the team.