[center][h2][color=BF1010]Spartan Lucas Ryker[/color][/h2][/center]

Lucas followed the rest of the team in nearly perfect sync, his DMR sounding off to get the targets out of range of the shorter ranged ARs and plasma weaponry. The team moved fast and hard, clearing corners and making their way towards the location of the rebel leader with ease. [i]Sometimes I wonder if this was the kinda of thing that the SPARTAN-IIs had been created for. Taking out rebel bases and leaders for the good of humanity, well, the survivors of the war now. Though ONI would never tell anyone if it were. "Gotta maintain a good public image," they'd say. Sometimes they forget they don't have a good public image anyways...[/i] Upon reaching the lift after dealing with the last attempted ambush, which their motion scanners had detected before they ever got near it, the SPARTAN-IV was one of the last on.

The ride down was silent, though it was far from an awkward silence. This was the silence of men and women who were preparing to do a job that only they could do and when the lift doors opened, they stepped out to do that job. The marker tracking the rebel leader was easy to follow and his armor wouldn't be hard to bypass. Growing up, Lucas had paid attention to how armor from the centuries was designed and whether it was a suit of full plate armor or a Kevlar chest piece, the joints of the armor were almost always either exposed or the weakest point in the suit. The ODST armor that the rebel leader was wearing was no different, and the exposed knee joints were easy to see, even from here. But the man also had his entourage of guards, so going straight from him probably wasn't the best idea. [i]Though slowing him down...[/i]

His decision made, the stock of Ryker's DMR found its way to his shoulder and he fired three times at the retreating forms of the rebels, though the las shot had a slight delay. The first two shots found the heads of the two soldiers most immediately blocking his shot to the leader, the two rebels both gasping in surprise as the bullets made impact. The SPARTAN-IV had had to wait a few seconds for the bodies of the two to fall before he'd fired the third shot, which was intended to pass through the back of the man's left knee. Not only would he fall to the ground from the sudden loss of his knee and kneecap, but he'd be slowed down considerably even with help moving from another person. Keeping his external speakers off, he spoke into the team channel. {VIP crippled, but he's still got help. Need to move fast.}