Rourke and Sykes sprinted through the dense underbrush, their breath coming in ragged gasps. The thud of their footsteps was muffled by the thick layer of fallen leaves and soil. They had been on the run for nearly ten minutes, their senses heightened by the adrenaline pumping through their veins.
"How the hell did they find us?" Rourke shouted, glancing over his shoulder. The sound of rotors beating the air was unmistakable. Apache helicopters were closing in, their searchlights slicing through the trees.
"I don't know!" Sykes shouted back, pushing branches out of their way. "But we need to keep moving. We're sitting ducks out here!"
The forest seemed to close in around them, the trees pressing closer together as they moved deeper into the woods. Every now and then, the blinding glare of a helicopter's spotlight cut through the darkness, making it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead.
