The resultant lack of gunfire opened an opportunity, however brief it was, for the man to snap back to his feet. It wasn't the most masterful kip to standing, nothing like some of the chipped-out martial tweakers were running from the world's best, but it was certainly graceful in an almost inhuman manner. Still, no rebuttal came his way and the hunter made a fateful decision in the flash of a few seconds. If he was going to catch and cutoff the quarry and potentially another target, he needed to get there and fast. The easiest way to do it? A short fall a long way. Each old concrete barrier that lined the sides of the crumbling roadway was either window level or just narrowly higher than some of the surrounding structures of the hazy, night drenched slums. So he barreled at full speed across to cut the distance, as well as any retaliation he was about to get. Nothing came, either because the power he was packing punched harder than it looked, he rolled the dice right and got lucky and tagging the gunner in the eyes, or the other guy just decided it wasn't worth sticking his head up yet. Didn't matter much in the end as Theron leapt, one boot on the rim of the roadway and the next on the air. He sailed a short way over the roof, landing on his target and rolling several times over himself. The blunt impact might have knocked the wind out of him, even sprained him, if he hadn't the limberness of a gymnast to some extent or rolled with impact. It would hurt, tomorrow that is and that's all what really mattered. Most people did not walk off a ten or so foot fall on to hard gravel, all of which skidded around him and slid him to a stop. Glancing left and right, soon looking up, he scrambled to his feet and peered over the several storied roof. The issue now? Finding anything, everything. So he listened and he smelled, trying to orient himself, whipping around one way in fierce stare then another, gun angled high in hand. The sensory information in the heat of a rush like this was blasting through his mind at freight train force and it took everything he had to process it fully. That delay is what separated him from the techies and gear rats, the ones who plugged their brains into everything and hacked it all up with wires and metal. Sure they could get it and process it faster, but unless they were splashing huge chunks of credit, it wasn't about to get understood better or faster. That hung him up for a moment, a good moment, but once he got the taste for it - literal taste - he had an idea. They weren't far, a short ways away and down another alley, judging by the thickness of it. Between that and the calm in the midst of the storm, the neurons firing said the target was down. The hows and whys were the next questions, yet there wasn't time to worry about those. Vaulting another low, waist high brick wall, then putting both boots down on a slant, steel roof. Navigating it, it was all over shortly as the ensuing standoff was at last met - a bunch of boosters and... A damned harness jockey, some rigged up metal frame cyberware piece. "Spiders", usually because they plugged more limbs into themselves than they ever needed and had all too many optics crammed into them, so much that they often had wires and framework plugged directly into them. The shiny and chrome of beloved augments, dashed with some almost intentional weirdness for effect, the kind exotics rolled with. Theron swallowed and steadied his breath, racing heart tempering from his perch three stories up. Glancing at the wrist of his roughed up jacket, the same that ate a portion of the fall, he could see at moment's notice it wasn't coincidence either - that the moment was cooling. Finger dancing the plastic frame of the hefty pistol along the side, a couple of the pursuers of the now trapped Golemeth shared uneasy stares at one another. Theron could kill the technorat, the Spider, with this much distraction and firepower he had, but that wasn't the part that worried him. It was the "shoot everything" response the gangers and the geeky killer probably had if it kicked off, meaning over half of them were getting tagged by [i]something[/i]. Ironically Golemeth would probably be fine, but the rest of them? Scav food and free cyber just sitting out in a bloody slum street. Brushing his nose with the back of a wrist, Theron shook his head, "I don't want the gun or gizmo, I want him." A few of the wary eyes shifted from the robotic monstrosity and the unconscious brute then snapped back. Theron threw a bit more to sweeten the dialogue, "Pick your prizes, as long as he ain't dead or dying from it." The hunter neglected to mention that he really did not [i]need[/i] the solo alive, rather just his brain mostly that in one piece, but work paid better when you brought people back alive, especially tanks like the one man army there. The hardware wasn't worth much, hell half of it had some sort of hole in it from tonight, and all the things keeping Golemeth alive were all internal cyber by the looks of it. But the rep? The credits? Much, much better. The laser disk and whatever was on it? Bonus if he put hands on. The weapon and the tech? Just more money. The entire bit about not dying in a stand off? Hard to put a price on. The only unexpected party was the one the rooftop hunter now heard coming, brow quirked at it reflexively and the rest of him turning a bit at the waist to follow it. Some of the others took heed and glanced back, almost sharing the words Theron muttered under his breath. [i]"Now fucking what?"[/i] [@Terminal]