led partially by the hunting instinct now , partially by the beckoning face of alwyn moore , and partially by an odd sense of curiosity , he softly swung his pack off of his shoulders and onto the ground ; fished out one of the baraks along with its silencer ; quietly checked the magazine , fifteen rounds ; clicked it back into place ( he could hear the well-oiled click , but he would wager that you couldnt hear it a yard away ; hats off to professional manufacturing standards ) ; he screwed on the silencer , then weighed the gun in his right hand : chien yung was right , it balanced perfectly , even with the silencer .