Just like old times. Syrgei leaps at the gunman's and kicks him square in the back. The gunman staggers forward a couple of steps, but is far from going down, and it isn't hard to feel the slip of fabric on the metal beneath the man's long coat. Right, of course. His rapier likewise draws only a sharp squeal as the gunman regains his footing and spins around, that massive rifle going off again. Shit Shit Shit! Syrgei rolls sharply to the side. If he had had coat tails, they would have been lost. Behind the gunman again, Syrgei reverses his grip on the rapier and dashes towards him, hoping to rush him over the lip of the stairwell.