Reincarnated with a Military System in Another World

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."n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

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.

"Stop!" he barked. "You're surrounded.

The men didn't stop running.

Marcus gritted his teeth as the mercenaries kept running, ignoring his command. They were desperate, and desperate men were dangerous. He keyed his radio again, this time to the Apache pilot hovering overhead.

"Apache, I need you to fire a missile ahead of their path. We need to cut them off, now!" Marcus barked.

A loud whoosh pierced the forest as the Apache unleashed a missile. Marcus's eyes widened slightly as he watched the bright trail streak across the sky, the missile cutting through the dense canopy ahead of the fleeing men. A moment later, a deafening explosion tore through the trees, sending dirt, debris, and smoke billowing into the air.

The shockwave hit Marcus and his team as they were running, and they instinctively ducked as the blast threw branches and leaves into the sky. The ground shook beneath them as the missile detonated in front of the fleeing mercenaries, forcing them to stop dead in their tracks. The trees ahead were splintered, and the path they'd been running toward was now a smoking, impassable wreckage.

Marcus didn't waste any time. "Move in! Now!" he shouted to his team as they surged forward, weapons at the ready.

Through the clearing smoke, Marcus could see Garrick's men staggering, some covering their faces, coughing as they tried to regain their senses. The blast had stunned them, but they weren't surrendering yet. One of the mercenaries turned, his eyes wide with terror as he saw Marcus and his team advancing.

"They're coming!" one of the men screamed, scrambling to his feet and trying to run again, only to stumble over a fallen tree.

Marcus and his team had them surrounded within seconds. "Get on the ground! Hands where we can see them!" Marcus ordered, his voice booming over the chaos.

Most of Garrick's men froze, their eyes darting from Marcus to the rest of his team, knowing they had nowhere left to run. Slowly, they raised their hands in surrender, dropping to their knees. One of the soldiers kicked away their weapons, clearing the area as Marcus approached the center of the group.

"Where's Garrick?" Marcus demanded, his rifle trained on one of the mercenaries who was still catching his breath.

The man, shaking and pale, shook his head. "I-I don't know. He was ahead of us! I swear, we don't know where he is!"

Marcus's eyes narrowed. "I'm not in the mood for lies. If you want to live, you'll start talking -now."

The man gulped, looking around at his captured comrades.

"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!"

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