Taunt and straight Angel cut the wire loose. The razor-sharp barbs coiled back catching him across the face. Cheek flesh ripped out, his nose opened up, the barbwire lodged in, slightly above his eyelid and just under his eyebrow. He went down screaming as Hank stood there laughing.
“I told you not to cut it like that. God damn flatlanders!” Hank shouted.
Angel had enough. With his eyelid pinned up and blood streaming down his face he reached for Hank’s leg and cut the muscle above the heel. Hank dropped to the floor no longer laughing. Pride was Angel’s Achilles heel.