For a moment, a feeling of disappointment crashed down upon Mordem. Was that it? Two measly gunshots and down he went? Darn it all... Wait a minute. No, he was still in the game. He smiled, relieved, as Bloodshot rolled back onto his feet, weapon in hand. Sheathing his pistol, and drawing his grappling gun in quick succession, Mordem revealed that he never planned on staying on the bike. As he closed in the distance between himself and Bobby Shaw, he fired a hook onto the building at the left street corner (his left) a run-down wooden construction that had previously resembled a fish store, as hinted by the torn up sign. As the hook pierced through the rotten wooden wall and a pillar on the second floor, Mordem jumped, flying well-past and over the staff-swinging maniac below and let go of his grappling device after flicking a small button on it's side, effectively halting the small extending roll of 60ft steel cable attached to his chest harness somewhere along the half-way click, and sending him swinging past, and around the corner. Still going at decently high, if not unfortunate, velocity.

But before he got that far, as his now-free hand moved towards his right rear belt-pouch, his mind pondered upon why somebody would have a fish store in a desert wasteland. A soft thud emitted from the ground below, 3-4m past Buckshot's location at the time of the jump; a nice little pack of C4 had found it's way from his pouch to the ground right before Mordem disappeared around the corner. Trigger still in his pouch.

Needless to say, the tale of his motorcycle ended here, totaling itself once it tipped over further down the road, crashing into a nearby cafê. Litting the whole thing on fire by the time the burning gasoline would catch up to it.