The dawn broke over the endless expanse of the ocean, a bleak, foreboding light that seemed to stretch for miles without promise. The boat cut through the water with a relentless purpose, its occupants silent and brooding. The mission had taken a toll on all of them, and the salty air did little to lift their spirits.
Max stood at the helm, his eyes fixed on the horizon. The weight of the stolen files in his bag felt like a leaden anchor. He glanced back at his crew: Rachel hunched over her laptop, Evelyn meticulously cleaning her gun, and Cole scanning the waters with the vigilance of a man who'd seen too much.
"We need a destination," Max said, breaking the silence that had settled over them like a shroud. "Somewhere we can lay low and plan our next move."