She was probably going to the women’s area of the B-huts. These were barracks huts made from plywood, with a small room for each of the four officers living in them. Each room contained a cot, a dresser, a window, and an air conditioner. The walls were paper-thin, and any thunk-thunk on the plywood floor would wake up anyone else in the hut. Wyatt had visited the barber after seeing Tal at breakfast and gotten cleaned up. He’d trimmed his beard, had his shaggy hair shaped a little, and then taken a long, hot shower. That was what he looked forward to the most—a hot shower to loosen the kinks out of his sore, stiff muscles. Now, wearing a clean day uniform that consisted of a long-sleeved shirt and cammies, he felt human again. He walked silently, like all SEALs, sure that the good Marine captain couldn’t hear him approach her from behind. Wyatt didn’t want to scare the hell out of her, but everyone in their business was hypervigilant. “Hey,”
