CHAPTER 1

APRIL 25

Making his way around the corner, Dale Stoner didn’t bother scanning the row of buildings that loomed up on either side of him like the walls of a sheer, gray stone canyon. The heavy afternoon traffic, which always starts earlier on Friday afternoons, covered the floor of this drab man made valley. The streets and roadways, populated by office workers and corporate professionals streaming out of the city for home demanded Stoner’s full attention, even though their forward progress was more akin to a creeping glacier than a roaring river.

By nature a cautious man, Stoner drove with both hands on the wheel, keeping an eye out for inattentive drivers and lane jockeys. When threatened by one of these hazards, Stoner would maneuver his oversize delivery van out of harm’s way with an ease and grace that had earned him the respect of his fellow drivers and supervisors. That this praise did not translate into bonuses or pay raises did not bother Stoner any more. Nor did he mind the extra hours. The work, though tedious and routine at best, kept him from dwelling on his problems, most of the time. But not always.

Despite his best efforts, Dale Stoner couldn’t keep his mind from wandering back to the chain of events that had led to this day. In high school, it hadn’t been his aspiration to be a delivery truck driver. It had just happened, just like the First Gulf War, and his estrangement from his own family. Before those tragic events he thought he had it all. He believed that he knew what was right and what was wrong, that there were people who loved him and upon whom he could depend. But then the war had come and nothing was ever the same again.

Stoner had loved being a soldier. The camaraderie that grew out of shared hardships, the sense of purpose the Army gave him, and a comfortable illusion of security the peacetime military generates was worth the low pay and hassles that had gone with the job. He was just starting his second hitch as a combat engineer in the beginning of August 1990 when Iraq invaded Kuwait. Together with his companions, Dale Stoner swallowed whatever personal fears he harbored and sallied forth to meet his sworn obligations. Like millions of Americans had done in the past, Stoner was ready, able, and willing to defend his nation and his fellow countrymen. At a time when so many other Americans had nothing else but profit margins, net worth, and capital gains on their minds, he was out there, on the edge, doing things other men only dreamed of. Yet, despite years of training, Dale Stoner found he was unprepared for what happened to him.

A sudden blur in his sideview mirror alerted Stoner to a danger, more perceived then understood. With a shake of his head, his attention snapped back to the task of driving his van. It took Stoner a moment before he was able to focus on the potential hazard. There, in his right sideview mirror, Stoner spotted a road warrior coming up from behind, scooting about from lane to lane in a small metallic blue German import in an effort to beat imaginary foes. As he watched in his oversized mirrors, Stoner saw the little blue import cut in front of a white Japanese four door. The driver of the Japanese car, trying to enjoy a cup of cappuccino while jabbering on a cell phone and driving, was caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the metallic blue car in front of him. Stoner could clearly see the driver of the white car panic as he let go of his cup, grabbed the wheel with both hands, and swerved without looking. This set in motion a chain reaction that disrupted numerous phone calls and caused fellow drivers to spill drinks and or spew globs of late afternoon snacks all over their pinstriped suits and silk blouses.