On the Bleeding Edge

Summary: With technological advancement, the blade beats the gun.

The mercenary captain sneered as he pinned the two guerrillas behind cover. Once his comrades in the other squad finished them, he'd let his men relieve their stress on the villagers. This time, they'd be able to spin the story however they wanted, since they'd been ambushed by the enemy.

He shouted to his comrades, but no one responded. That was his first sign something was wrong. For a second, he shifted his sight towards the ruined house across the road. A motionless, camouflaged body partially protruded from behind a shattered wall. It was the desert pattern his own comrades favored.

The mercenary captain heard a hissing sound in the moment before it all went black. He could not see the projectile, as it worked its way through each of his men. A small rocket engine propelled a homemade missile with scalpel blades mounted on the front, guided by the guerillas from behind cover. It severed his spine as neatly as the rest of his comrades'.

While they were outnumbered, the guerrillas fought on the bleeding edge.