“It’s the one closest to the Civilian Conservation Corps campground. ‘No trespassing’ signs everywhere. He must’ve hidden during your inspection.” Audrey’s teeth started to chatter—but it wasn’t cold that triggered it. She took more photos of the dead man, shielding the flash as much as she could with a cupped hand. “I wonder if he’s part of what’s going on, or if he came here to cause trouble for the training and got in someone’s way?”

“Check his pockets. Maybe he’s carrying something that will give us a clue.”

His pockets were empty. No cell phone, no keys, no hint as to what he was doing here or who had taken an axe to his throat.

Task complete, they retreated into an alcove created by a shed that abutted the yurt. “I need to get inside,” Xavier said. “Cohen was in there.”

Audrey’s stomach churned. “It could be an ambush,” she said, naming her biggest fear of the moment.

“I know.”

She would go with him. No way was she staying out here alone.

The storm had worsened while she examined Jeb’s body. Rain pelted the yurt’s metal roof, drowning out all other sound. “We need to do it now, while the storm is heavy. If someone’s inside, they won’t be able to hear us over the rain.”

He nodded. “I’ll go in first. I want you right behind me. I’ll give you my training gun. Simunition stings like a bitch. I wish it were more, but it’s better than nothing.”

She took a deep breath to steel her nerves. She’d faced a knife-wielding man on a cliff and searched the nearly decapitated body of Jeb McCutcheon. Might as well add walking blind into a yurt that could house an axe murderer to the list of horrific things she’d done that day.

She met Xavier’s gaze in the dim red glow of his flashlight. His handsome face held fear and concern. Hours ago, the most traumatic thing she’d thought she’d face with him was telling him about their baby.

She straightened her spine. “Let’s go.”

With SEALs in the water, armed tangos in the woods, and a dead body outside the command center, there was no time to waste. Xavier needed to get inside and find out what had happened to the other trainers, turn off the signal jammer, and tell Naval Special Warfare Command to flood these woods with armed special forces operators. Naval Air Station Whidbey could have a team here in an hour. Two tops.

Plus there were Green Berets and Army Rangers stationed at Joint Base Lewis-McChord near Tacoma. They could end this before it took more lives.

But the dead-eyed stare of Jeb McCutcheon warned him it might already be too late to save his team of trainers.