Chapter 133: Getting Close

Chapter 133: Getting Close



Marcus's team advanced through the forest, moving quickly and silently toward the reported location of Garrick and his men. The trees thickened as they neared the clearing, and Marcus's grip tightened on his rifle. The air was heavy with tension, but something didn't sit right with him. If Garrick's men were dug in as the Apache reported, there should have been more

activity, more signs of preparation.

Suddenly, a soldier's voice came through the radio. "Sir, thermal imaging shows movement again. They're not staying put. They're running-fast."

Marcus felt a surge of adrenaline. "Confirmed visual?"

"Yes, sir," came the reply from the Apache pilot. "Multiple heat signatures moving north. It looks like they've caught wind of us."

Marcus cursed under his breath. "They're trying to escape. Move now!"

His team sprang into action, breaking from their positions and bolting toward the direction of the fleeing mercenaries. The sound of boots pounding the forest floor filled the air as the soldiers raced through the dense underbrush.

"We can't let them get away," Marcus muttered, pushing himself harder. His eyes darted through the thick foliage, looking for any sign of the runners.

"They're splitting up!" another soldier called out. "Two groups, one heading northwest, the other due north."

Marcus keyed his radio. "Team Two, cut off the northwest group. Team One is with me- north. We need to corner them."

The chase was on.

The Apache above kept eyes on Garrick's men, relaying updates to Marcus as they closed the gap. "They're running hard, but they can't outrun us," Marcus muttered, adrenaline driving his every step.

Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of movement ahead-dark shapes darting between the trees. "I see them!" he called out, raising his rifle. "Team One, fan out! Force them into the open!"

The soldiers adjusted their formation, spreading out to flank the fleeing mercenaries. Marcus's heart pounded in his chest as he spotted one of Garrick's men stumbling over a fallen branch. Without hesitation, Marcus raised his rifle and fired a shot into the air.

"There..!"

The man's eyes flickered toward the trees just beyond the wreckage. His breath came in shallow gasps, his face pale and drenched in sweat. "There... he went that way," he

stammered, pointing a trembling finger into the darkened forest.

Marcus's eyes followed the direction of the man's hand, but his expression remained hard. "How many more are with him?" he demanded.

"I don't know... three, maybe four," the man whispered, his voice cracking with fear. "Please, that's all I know."

Marcus kept his rifle trained on the man for a moment longer before lowering it slightly. "Secure them," he barked to his team. The soldiers moved in, zip-tying the mercenaries' wrists and disarming them completely.

"We can't let Garrick slip through our fingers now," Marcus muttered under his breath, keying his radio once more. "Apache, you have a visual on any movement beyond the blast site?"

"Negative, sir," the pilot responded. "The blast stirred up a lot of dust and debris. We're scanning the area, but no immediate movement detected."

Marcus cursed under his breath. Garrick had to be close. "Team One, with me. We're going after Garrick. Team Two, hold this position and keep these bastards under watch. We can't afford to lose him now."

The soldiers acknowledged his orders with a quick nod. Marcus motioned for his team to follow, pushing forward into the dense trees in the direction the mercenary had indicated. His heart pounded in his chest as they moved swiftly through the forest, rifles up, eyes scanning every shadow, every branch for signs of movement.

Suddenly, one of the soldiers ahead raised a fist, signaling the group to halt. Marcus dropped to one knee, his gaze following where the soldier was pointing-a fresh trail of broken branches, footprints in the mud. Garrick had come this way, recently.

"They're close," Marcus whispered. "Fan out and move quietly. We catch them by surprise." The team spread out, inching forward with careful, deliberate steps. Marcus could hear his own breathing, heavy with anticipation, as they closed in on the fresh trail. His senses were on high alert, every sound, every rustle in the leaves putting him on edge.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Marcus saw it-a flash of movement, low to the ground, just beyond the trees ahead. His pulse quickened.

"There!" he hissed, raising his rifle and gesturing to the others. "Four elements! Might be

him!"