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Your gunfire is accurate—it hits the biker in the head—but it does not divert his machine. (Remember to deduct the relevant number of rounds from your Ammo Pouch.) The fact is, the biker is already dead, killed by a ricocheting bullet as he sped over the bridge. He is slumped forward over the handlebars in a racing pose, his right hand locked on the throttle and his weight balanced to keep his machine upright and fixed in a straight line.

In desperation you scramble to your feet to throw yourself out of the path of the bike, but you have left it too late. With a fearful crash, the motorcycle ploughs into the gas pump and explodes in a ball of bright flame. The last thing you see is a blinding yellow flash as you are engulfed by the blazing inferno. Death is instantaneous.

Tragically, your life and your mission end here in Mexico.