It had been an hour since Lucas started taking action and he had already eliminated the guards whose positions were concealed just like that machine gunner.
After adjusting all the places he went through to the best of his ability to prevent alarming the other sentries, he was now going to start going after the terrorists patrolling alone. Even if his stealthy actions will soon hit a wall, it didn't bring him any panic.
Right now, he was buried beneath the sand beside one of the less dilapidated buildings in the town like a hunter waiting for his prey to come, patient and deadly.
Suddenly, he felt the shock of footsteps impacting the ground, letting him know of the arrival of the one he was waiting for. He must have finished the previous part of his patrol zone and now, he was coming from the street on the north side of the house beside which he was hiding.
Focusing his senses, he waited for the prey to pass and, after two breaths that should have allowed him to cover about 1 m forward, he stood up gently.
Since the patrol was now descending the street west wise and it was the afternoon, he got the sun on his face and his shadow behind, leaving nothing to alert him of the last struggle of his life hence welcoming it unprepared.
After Lucas fully stood up and faced the back of his prey, he took two soft but big steps forward to the rhythm of the later, covered his mouth with his right hand and, just like his very first victim in his ghostly carrier, he plunged his knife diagonally in the exposed neck while having no fluctuation in his eyes that were taking in the surroundings, giving rise of a chilling feeling.
Slitting the throat was also an option but, while having been trained as a soldier (mandated killer), killing up close was different from doing it with a well placed bullet from a distance. It becomes more personal, feeling exactly what was being destroyed and how it was going back from whence it came from.
So, yeah, he discarded that option feeling it too dirtying but above that, too barbaric. He didn't want to have the impression of slaughtering just any kind of animal.
After ensuring the absence of any witness in the vicinity, he pushed his newer victim into the sands, covered his tracks and disappeared around the corner while muttering:
"19, about 31 more to go if that guy was truthful."
But a few minutes later, just as he took cover in another house to ambush a new prey, the latter's radio relayed a man's voice talking in Arabic maybe.
His target, giving a reply after hearing the emission, turned a bit and adjusted his path toward a corner in front. Unfortunately for him, at the second step, he felt a brief shock at the back of his head that he didn't manage to process before darkness embraced him.
Behind him was Lucas, arm straight, gun in hand. It was the 9mm Glock he plundered from the dead mercenary. Seeing the situation changing, he did not want to take chances so he took a shot and hit the bull's-eye on the back of his target's head, killing him on the spot.
"Thankfully the gun came with a muffler. The direction he was about to go in would have taken him to the center. They are either leaving or they discovered the places I have been to and even if it was not the later they will soon be in the know. Time for Phase 2."
After pulling the downed man in the house, he crouched down and ran toward a place he pinpointed earlier. It was a house at the periphery of the center with a clear view on it from the rooftop.
Taking isolated paths, he arrived less than 5 minutes later and confirmed that while the sentry on the roof was still there, the ones who had their sight on him were all gone.
"They must be preparing to leave and he must be one of the few remaining guards."
Going over the wall, he landed in the courtyard then went into the building. He found the ground floor and the second floor empty so he continued to the rooftop without any interruption.
Being in a hurry this time, he directly used the same approach as a moment ago before holstering his pistol back. He confirmed the view on the center of the town, marked an optimal position for his next endeavor then went back down into the courtyard.
He first checked the well that actually made him choose this house in the first place. While dry, it was even better for what he was planning.
He threw a rope inside after securing it outside then went back into the house. He pushed everything in the living room aside leaving it empty and blocking the other rooms. He did the same on the second floor but left a crate in the middle. Putting some of his loots inside, he covered it with the dusty curtains and carpets around.
After hurriedly doing all of that, he went to his previously chosen position, took aim with his assault rifle and observed the town center with the scope.
He saw the terrorists moving things and loading vehicles with some still coming from their previous positions in the town. He knew there will be confusion soon, after all not all their people will come back. But:
"Counting those I took down plus those gathering here, they had almost 70 people. How the hell did that Jack Schneider miss the count by 20? 50 hostiles, my ass?"
When he started seeing them confused, he understood that all the remaining terrorists were there hence, without procrastinating anymore, he locked onto a target, probably the chief since he was the one giving orders.
His first shot was to check for discrepancy between his aim and the bullet landing point so he made a safe bet of aiming at the chest.
The bullet proof vest will certainly allow survival, but it was good for him. He didn't want to risk the terrorists scattering and an orderly counterattack was best for his plans.
'To think that it would take this situation to sample this kind of sophisticated gun that even the special forces back home don't have. HK416 with a suppressor, 30 rounds, 300 m of effective distance and about twice the speed of sound. Let me use it to send an invitation to the party marking the beginning of end of my ghostly career in this town.'
Looking at the target that was gesticulating in anger and barking in his radio, he pressed the trigger with a gentleness that belied the action's fatality.