Part 1 The coffee maker in the Pentagon’s third-floor breakroom had been broken for three days. It hissed and sputtered, a mechanical death…

PART 1 The first punch landed before I could even get my hands up. At 72 years old, after surviving two tours in…

Part 1 Dawn crept over the rolling hills of Willow Creek, Nebraska, painting the Veyron dairy farm in hues of deceptive gold and…

Part 1 The hardware store smelled like sawdust and possibilities. I was kneeling in the lumber aisle, wrestling with a measuring tape that…