The boss moved with lightning speed, darting behind a thick oak and using the trunk as cover. In one smooth motion, he leapt to the next tree, barely making a sound.

Gunfire chased him-rounds cracking through the air as the shooters tried to keep up, but he stayed just out of reach.

A few tense moments later, the woods fell eerily silent again. The hunters had lost him again.

But Tarquin and Elliot, crouched low behind a mossy log, could see the boss just a few yards away, hidden behind another sturdy tree.

The boss bent down, scooping up a handful of rocks from the forest floor. With a quick flick of his wrist, he hurled them-vanishing behind the brush at the same instant.

Those rocks flew like bullets, smacking into several of the hunters with brutal force.

One rock went clean through a hunter's arm, another buried itself deep into someone's thigh bone. The screams that followed tore through the quiet-pure agony.

Watching the action play out on the computer monitor, it was obvious-the boss wasn't just running. He was toying with them, buying time for Tarquin and Elliot.

The screen showed everyone's location, constantly updating. In the corner, a counter ticked down: 56 people left. The boss was one of them.

Elliot hovered his mouse over a hunter's rifle, and a pop-up displayed the make, model, and country of origin.

a small window appeared with a crisp

work the controls,

murmured, eyes glued to

in the area-three separate spots,

pointed to the last one. "That's Quincy

an artist—he loves

"And that's Walter. He was the chief engineer at the Department of Defense. Some of our

all over the

his hand-to-hand skills, he's a

even dreams up wild

He frowned, his brow furrowing.

"Yeah. That's

stared at the

at

gray-haired man's photo. He'd-

there were

heavyweights hiding out in these woods, but never

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