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Read Rise Of The Huskers (The Raven Falconer Chronicles)

Rise of the Huskers (The Raven Falconer Chronicles)

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Rise Of The Huskers (The Raven Falconer Chronicles) - Plot & Excerpts

Shouts filled the air, “I’m hit!  Medic, I need a medic!”  Ziggy pressed his head firmly into the pillow’s soft folds, imagining his helmet sinking into the saturated mud of the earthen trough.  Sweat filled his eyes, adding to the overall discomfort of the oft-recycled nightmarish event.  In his mind, he pushed a mounting fear aside and raised his brow to the edge of the embankment, searching the horizon for movement, friend or foe.
    Instantly, a loud, single report from a large caliber rifle shook the officer, rousting him from the unfortunate dream.  Dazed and more than a little confused, he scanned the cell in which he’d spent the night locked behind steel, reinforced bars, with the key safely tucked under his pillow.  Nowicki kicked the blankets off and swept his feet to the floor, muttering as he did.  With a large hand he attempted to smooth back a row of unruly, wavy locks, which extended a few centimeters down his forehead, the brown hair immediately springing back, out of place.  A pair of much darker, arched eyebrows shaded hazel eyes, injected red from lack of sleep over the past few nights.  In boot camp he’d often been teased about the length of his eyelashes, which curled up, touching his brow.  The veteran generally wore his hair cropped short, a look he’d embraced while serving in the Canadian Special Forces, but lately a haircut had been pushed well to the bottom of his list of things to do.  However, he’d kept his strong jawline and upper lip cleanly shaved, again a holdover from his service abroad.  Fine, light-brown hairs covered his arms and legs but for a length of skin on his right upper thigh, where shrapnel from an IED had permanently scarred the tissue.  Rubbing his eyes, he tried to make sense of the concussion he’d heard, or imagined, only seconds before.  The muscular officer stood, stretching and extending his arms well overhead, before placing his hands on his hips and spinning his torso back and forth.  A definitive ‘pop’ sounded from his lower spine and he let out a quick, “Whew, that’s got it,”

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