Gasping, James ducked between the heavy underbrush. The weight of his gear weighed him down, but he couldn’t stop not now. The enemy was closing in. There was a cracking of branches and heavy footsteps behind him.
He rushed past a downed log, throwing himself into a shallow ditch at the moment a searchlight panned the section. Too close. He heard his heartbeat pounding in his chest as he pressed his body against the cold, wet earth.
He glimpsed two of Kade’s men moving through the trees, rifles held at the ready. “He’s almost there,” one said under his breath.
James held his ground, fingers gripping the silenced barrel. One bullet, and he would blow his cover. But if he didn’t do something, they would find him all the same.
He hesitated, seeing them inch closer.
Three feet… two feet…
