"William W. Johnstone - Ashes 02 - Fire In the Ashes" - читать интересную книгу автора (Johnstone William W)

тАЬI don't believe it,тАЭ he said aloud. Then, for a reason not even the president could fathom, he added, тАЬI
hope it's not true."

PART ONE


One
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тАЬYou're lucky, Ben,тАЭ Doctor Lamar Chase said. тАЬYou're the luckiest man I've ever seen."

But some of Ben Raines's Rebels were beginning to think there was something more than luck
surrounding their commanding officer.

тАЬYou've got a broken collarbone, three cracked ribs, and a small bit of bone gone from your left
shoulder. This would have killed a lesser man. Should have killed you."

Jerre knelt by Ben's bed. тАЬOld man,тАЭ she grinned at him. тАЬI wish you'd quit scaring me like this."

Ben touched her face, ran his fingers through her blond hair. His face was pale from shock and the pain
of his wounds. тАЬI keep telling you, babe,тАЭ he whispered, тАЬI'll go when I'm damn well ready to go."

She kissed his cheek.

тАЬEverybody out!тАЭ Chase ordered. тАЬLet the man get some rest. He's not immortal, you know."

The doctor did not notice the strange looks he received at that statement.

Ben's personal contingent of Rebels was camped near Hell Creek, not far from the southern shores of
the Fort Peck Recreation Area. Many of these Rebels had been with Ben for years: Judith Sparkman,
James Riverson, Ike McGowen, Ben's adopted daughter, Tina, Cecil Jefferys, Doctor Chase, in his early
seventies and still spry as a mountain goatтАФand just as cantankerous.

The tent cleared and Ben closed his eyes, fighting back waves of nausea that alternated with the peaks
and valleys of pain coursing through him. The shot Doctor Chase had administered began to take hold,
dropping Ben into drug-induced sleep.

But his sleep was troubled, and he called out for friends long dead. Men he had known in Southeast
Asia; men he had fought with during his years as a mercenary in AfricaтАФthat period of his life when the
adrenaline-surging high of combat would not be appeased by civilian life. But he'd finally gotten it out of
his system and returned to a normal life, as a writer.

He called out for friends who had stayed with him after the bombings of 1988, men and women who
had toiled, giving their sweat and blood, and ultimately, their lives for a dream called Tri-States; a country
within a country. It was a dream carved out of three states, an area free of crime and unemployment,
where men and women could leave their homes unlocked and the keys in their cars and trucks, knowing