98

Your shot goes wide, tearing a chunk of masonry from the parapet of the roof to the left of the clan group. (Remember to deduct the relevant number of rounds from your Ammo Pouch.) Alerted by the noise and the muzzle flash, the two riflemen swing around and pour a withering hail of automatic fire at you. You try to duck back, but an agonizing pain erupts in the centre of your forehead and you are lifted off your feet by the force of the high-velocity bullet that has penetrated your skull.

Blinded and numbed by the shock of impact, you fail to stop yourself from tumbling over the edge of the fire escape platform. Mercifully, death claims you before you crash head-first through the roof of the clan truck that is parked in the alley below.

Your journey and your life terminate here at Wellton, Arizona.