The bike ... I crouched low and risked a glance down the escalator. Corp broad and corp guy were still lying on the escalator, perfect obstacles. (Obstacles? Yes. A good rider can run over a prone body on flat terrain without undue risk of ditching. But not while riding up a staircase. The elf might make it, but better odds were that he'd be over the guardrail before he knew what happened.) The elf recognized the situation, too. He was at the foot of the escalator, revving his bike angrily, glaring at the bodies. Which meant he wasn't looking at me. I pulled out the Manhunter, and drew a bead on his dark face. As they'd taught us at Lone Star, and as the troll security guard had discovered to his terminal detriment, even the best body armor in the world won't protect you from a through-and-through head shot. I triggered the sighting laser to check my aim-yep, center-head-and brushed the reactive trigger twice.