The suppression squads kept rotating their fire at the rhythm Swen had ordered. He watched the defenders behind the stone outcrop and saw the effect immediately. The gunfire forced them to react instead of think ahead.
One mercenary started to rise from behind the rock. He brought his crossbow halfway up and shifted into the exposed position just as the next suppression squad fired.
The shot did not hit him.
It struck the stone eighteen inches left of his shoulder. Rock fragments burst outward. The mercenary dropped before the debris reached him.
"Right gap, right gap!" one mercenary shouted. "Soren, move your ass!"
Another man broke toward the outcrop's right flank. The third squad in the firing rotation discharged before he completed the crossing. The shot landed four feet short, but the intent mattered more than the accuracy.
The crack of the rifle split his movement apart.
He instinctively crouched in the open, caught between positions and unable to support either side.
