Honor Land by R.S. Guthrie

Author:R.S. Guthrie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: military thriller, mystery series most popular, hard boiled detective stories, hard boiled murder, thrillers 100 must reads, thrillers and mysteries best sellers, mystery murder detective military
Publisher: R.S. Guthrie

Thursday, July 23rd, 2015

12:42 A.M.

When he finally regained consciousness in the Wind River Medical Clinic, the light about him did not seem heavenly or as if he was witnessing angels. It was simply ugly, yellow bulbs and that nauseating, antiseptic smell of the hospital.

Mercifully, although he knew who he was and, to an extent, where he was, Pruett did not remember his collapse or—yet—the phone call he had received before it.

“You’re awake,” said Doc sawbones, Jeb Percy.

“Always knew you were a fine doctor,” Pruett said, as if sedated. “Now I know it to be true.”

“Take it easy,” said Dr. Percy. “Too much of that James Pruett salt and vinegar isn’t good for a man who just survived his first heart attack.

“Heart attack?” said Pruett.

“A fairly mild one, we think. Anything more severe, we’d have flown you up to Jackson or down to Salt Lake. Count yourself lucky you’re waking up to my ugly mug.”

“Was in my new office,” said Pruett, more to himself than to Percy.

“Something set you off?” said the doc.

“I got a phone call. Some bad news—the kind most people don’t deal with well.”

His memory was back like an angry migraine. And it did hurt his head—more because of how little he knew than how much. He started to sit up, but before Doc Percy could protest, Pruett’s own body slammed him back onto the slightly elevated hospital bed.

“Ugh,” Pruett exhaled, tendrils of pain spreading outward from his chest toward all parts of his body.

“You need to stay one hundred percent immobile until we know more about your condition, James.”

“How long was I down?” said Pruett, face still twisted in a grimace of anguish.

“You’ve only been out, oh, less than an hour.”

“Shit,” Pruett managed. “Get me my cell phone.”

“Can’t,” said Percy. “You’re too weak. And I won’t let you reconnect with whatever might have started this.”

Pruett would have fought him but he’d never felt so powerless or in as much pain. Not since his squad found him after a brief skirmish with the Vietcong, Pruett sprayed with shrapnel from a mine that exploded over twenty yards away. The pain then had been excruciating and he’d believed he would die there in the leaves and undergrowth of Vietnam.

“Do me a favor then,” he whispered.

“If I can.”

“Call Red Horse Baptiste.”

“He’s in the waiting area; with half the damn town. Including Sheriff Walker.”

“Then go get him.”

“No one can be in here now, James. I’m not kidding around. You’re not out of danger just yet. At least we can’t be certain.”

Pruett opened his eyes and locked them with his doctor and friend. “Get. Him.”

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