Keegan had gotten used to the rhythm of his job. The silence that came along with it was always going to be a welcome one. He loved the quiet that followed him as he moved from each position. Most would grow restless from it, but he never did. It was peaceful after all the fighting from the war.

It was as simple as locate, aim, fire, repostition. After he dropped each target, he was quick to find a new perch for his sniper to lower the risks of being discovered. Each time a hostile dropped, the rest scattered like bugs. They were scared of the boot threatening to squash them and Keegan would squash them.

He dropped onto his stomach atop a cliff, silently setting his weapon on its tripod. The sergeant dragged his eye to peer through it as he used the scope to attempt to locate a new target. All of his focus remained on his weapon, his deadly instrument, that he would use to create a symphony of death on any unsuspecting victim wandering about the hostile base.