Chapters (77)
- Cover
- Endorsements
- Books by Elizabeth Goddard
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- A Preview of Book 2 in the ROCKY MOUNTAIN COURAGE Series
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Back Ads
- Back Cover
I’m going to face Gramps. “Me? I’m going to get answers.”
FIFTY-SEVEN
Head pounding, Chance woke up in his motel room. Cabin. Whatever. He had no idea how he’d made it back. He didn’t remember anything except those moments with Darth Maul. The man had left him with that photograph—only God knew how he’d gotten his hands on it—and that name. Chance had exited the bar out the back. Escaped the deputy and hobbled to his temporary dwelling.
He had to get out today. His time was up here. But maybe not his luck.
He had a name now. He still wasn’t sure how Darth Maul had figured it out.
An incredulous laugh escaped. His laugh grew larger. Louder. He was sure he would wake the neighbors in the nearby cabin.
Chance turned his thoughts to Baghdad.
The name? Anthony Gray.
Anthony “Tony” Gray had been Chance’s copilot and gunner. Before that, they’d grown up in the same county in Montana. Then they ended up serving in the same platoon in basic. They attended flight school together and were stationed together. Brothers-in-arms forever, it would seem.
After the initial shock and awe of the campaign, they were stationed near Baghdad. Chance couldn’t remember how he ended up following Tony that night. They moved stealthily through the smoldering courtyard, expended RPGs and Iraqi soldier uniforms scattered everywhere. The Iraq Museum had been used by the soldiers as a fighting position, then when they scattered, the looting began. An inside job. Professionals. Then everyone else.
Tony led him beneath a hand-scrawled warning, “Death to all Americans and Zionist pigs,” and down the halls. Others were working. Flashlights shining. Mumbles and shouting. The sense of urgency. They passed hundreds of display cases. Hundreds that were nearly empty.
Tony slowed and sidled next to Chance. “We need to help them.”
“How do we stop this?”
“No, I mean help them. I’m thinking of my wife, my parents back home. They could use a few nice things.”
“You’re not saying . . .”
“I am saying. What’s the harm in a few items being put on display to be seen rather than stolen and lost forever?” Tony’s justification sounded reasonable.
Chance followed him down a set of stairs. He should have stopped following the guy, but Tony was larger than life. Charismatic, and sure, Chance would blame Tony for drawing him in to his reasonable cause of not letting the looters get it all.
“Where are we going?” The way Tony led him, Chance knew the guy had already been there and checked it out.
Tony shined his flashlight along a dark stairwell.
Chance felt like he was going into a dungeon from which he would never return. “I think we should go back.”