Chapter 1

Bob Long pulled up in front of the cabin he and Marge had built on Mercado Lake. When he put on the brakes, the Jeep Commander station wagon slid a couple of inches on the stone driveway that led from the county road to his cabin. The driveway stretched about 3000 ft. from the road to the cabin. Bob turned off the engine and sat staring out of the windshield for several minutes. It was one of those rare moments that a man has when his mind and body become totally aware of the wonders of all life around him. A movement out of the corner of his eye brought him back to reality and he turned to see what had caught his attention. For a few seconds whatever had caught his attention eluded him. A slow movement to the left of and slightly behind the cabin revealed a raccoon making its way slowly toward the thick woods. The raccoon stopped just before entering the woods and looked back at the station wagon for a second as if to sneer at the human that had disturbed him.

Bob got out of the Jeep and walked toward the shore of the lake. The sun was just starting to head for the western edge of the lake. He figured that he still had about 2 1⁄2 hours of daylight left and that he might be able to get some work done before dark. He turned and headed for the porch. The porch faced the lake and afforded him a million dollar view. His cabin was on the far end of the lake; away from the skiers. Because of the remoteness of the location, not many people wanted to build in this area. The state had never built the wide roads needed to entice development in this end of the lake because of environmental concerns. The county road coursing through this end of the lake was a two-lane macadam road with no lights. Often the county road would be one of the last to be plowed after a snowstorm. As he sat down he heard the whirr of the wind generator high above the trees. The one hundred and twenty foot mast kept the wind generator above the tree line and caught the faintest breezes. He and Marge had kept the cabin comfortable but rustic. The wind generator kept the minimal lights going that they used when they were at the cabin and the heat trace on the water pipes. He looked out over the lake. The water was like glass, only occasionally disturbed by a fish breaking to the surface.

Mercado Lake is a man-made lake that was originally constructed for hydroelectric use by damming a mountain river. Over the years the cost of maintaining the aging electrical generating equipment had gotten prohibitive and the utility company had sold the lake to the state. The state bought the lake as a tourist attraction that the area sorely needed and the area thrived in the spring, summer and fall months. Most of the tourists shied away from this end of the lake in favor of the ski trails that had been built on the other side of lake Mercado. The nearest town to the lake is Hinley, which was about eleven miles from Bob's cabin. Hinley is an old coal-mining town that had almost gone out of existence before the lake was built. Over the past few years Hinley had been reborn as a tourist center, complete with the requisite tourist shops, restaurants and motels. The lake draws the tourists in the summer for the warm days and cool nights and in the winter the tourists flock to the slopes for the skiing. The area of the state where the cabin sits gets about 180 inches of snow a year and it often snows in late October. Many times, a light snowfall would be predicted only to become a 10 to 24-inch snowfall by morning. Weather in the mountains can be unpredictable at times.

Bob's father bought the 25 acres that the cabin sat on many years ago, before the area became a Mecca for tourists. At that time the electric company was thinking about doing away with the dam and letting the valley go back to its natural state so Bob's father was taking a chance buying the property. His father had never gotten around to doing anything to the site except to occasionally use it for camping. Bob's mother hated the mountains and the remoteness of the area. Her idea of roughing it was the Holiday Inn. After his father and mother died, Bob and Marge decided to build a weekend get-away on the site. As some projects do, the project grew in size until the cabin became a very comfortable place to spend time away from the rush of business. The driveway had been built first to allow the builder to get to the site with the building materials. Bob had purchased a small four-wheel drive tractor to help with the construction and he kept it ready in a small shed that he built for it. Almost 6 months from the start of construction, the cabin was completed and Bob and Marge began to spend almost every spring, summer and fall weekend at the cabin whenever their businesses allowed. The cabin became their private retreat. They rarely invited others to their retreat.

A local contractor who specialized in log homes had built the cabin. The log cabin was 45 feet by 50 ft. It consisted of one large room with sleeping lofts at each end of the cabin. Bob had insisted on having the cabin well insulated; a rarity in log cabins. A large energy-efficient wood stove provided heat on the cool nights. Even on the few winter nights that Bob and Marge had spent at the cabin, the wood stove did an adequate job of heating the cabin. Bob paid one of the locals to deliver and stack 3 cords of oak and hickory each fall. Marge, being an interior decorator, had taken over the job of decorating the cabin. The furnishings were rustic, but at the same time elegant.

Bob used his technical expertise to make the remote site livable. He had a wind generator installed and a stove, refrigerator and freezer; all of the appliances operated by propane. A propane fueled generator charged the batteries when the wind generator needed a little help. His computer was set up in one corner of the great room and, as soon as Internet phones were perfected he had one installed on his computer. He accessed the Internet with his satellite phone. Often, he and Marge would spend their weekends at the cabin working on their respective businesses. Bob had always thought that they had the perfect life.

A gust of wind hit him, shaking him from his reverie, and he felt the chill of the night air starting to come off of the lake. The late fall weather in the mountains could be right chilly and snowfalls this time of year were not unheard of. He looked out over the lake, enjoying the solitude. He smelled the smoke before he saw it. As he scanned the tops of the trees, he saw a lazy whiff of smoke heading skyward. Bob knew that the smoke was coming from one of the cabins or condos at the upper end of the lake, close to the county roads. He and Marge had called it the "yuppie" end of the lake. He fished in his pocket for his keys and walked to the door. The cabin had that "closed-in" smell so he left the door open to air out the cabin. He walked to the front of the great room and opened the window to get some cross-ventilation.

Several trips to the outside shed which protected his wood supply, to bring in firewood, ensured that he had enough firewood in the rack for about 24 hours. He threw a few logs in the wood stove over top of some kindling and fat wood and started the fire. He left the air vents open all of the way to get the fire going. It would take a while before the wood stove really started to warm the air in the cabin. The heavy steel of the wood stove and the firebrick liner had to be heated before the stove began to heat the air in the room. When he began to feel the heat radiating from the wood stove he closed the door and window. After two trips to the Jeep to bring in his clothes, food and the work that he brought with him from the office he could feel the wood stove beginning to warm the air in the cabin. He set the box that held the work from the office on his desk.

"Damn," Bob said to himself as he carried his briefcase into the area that he used as an office, "I forgot. I used the last of the paper for the printer the last time I was up here."

He checked his watch. He still had plenty of time to get to the small stationary store in Hinley; he wanted to get something to eat at the diner anyway. He needed that paper this weekend. He mentally berated himself for forgetting the paper. Bob Long was much harder on himself than anyone else would have been. It was his years of training in the Navy Seals that made him so hard on himself. Bob Long expected... no... demanded that Bob Long be the perfect human being.

Bob Long had joined the Navy right out of college. He had joined the Navy ROTC in college for the financial benefits but he quickly found out that he loved the military life. He had always been athletic and the Navy noticed him right away and suggested that he apply for the Navy Seals. Bob took to the program like a duck to water and soon rose to the rank of 1st Lieutenant. He went on many missions for the Seal Team and eventually became an instructor. The Navy sent him back to school often to upgrade his skills. Thanks to the Navy he got his Master's degree on the Navy's dime.

Bob met Marge at a party being given by some friends. They hit it off right away and spent the night in a corner talking. They were among the last ones to leave the party. Within 4 months they got married. Marge started an interior decorating business right out of college and, after several lean months, the business started to take off. They were both extremely happy except when Bob had to be away on a mission. Marge couldn't put up with him going to the base in the morning and him not coming home for weeks and she never knowing if he was alive or dead. After 5 years Marge gave him an ultimatum-it was either she or the Navy. Bob resigned his commission. They decided to wait to start a family until after Bob got settled into civilian life and got his feet on the ground.

He bounced around for about eight years at one job after another. Marge, with her interior decorating business, was the main breadwinner in the family during that period. A friend of theirs gave him the idea of using his Seal training to open a company to provide security for companies and company executives. Marge encouraged him to try it and soon Paladin Security Sources, Inc. was a reality. Bob started the company about five years before 9/11. Soon the company grew to where the company was providing security for CEO's and royalty, training security guards for energy companies and nuclear facilities and advising Special Forces groups for foreign countries. With their Virginia home so close to Washington, D.C. his company had the high visibility that it needed to land the security contracts with the Defense Department. They decided to wait to start a family until after Bob's business got off the ground. After both businesses took off there never seemed to be enough time for a family. Bob eventually began to take on high tech security device sales and armored car sales. The security business grew steadily as the political climate grew shakier and shakier. After 9/11 the business really took off. Many companies that had never really considered security now demanded the best security money could buy. Energy companies worried about their refineries and pipelines, electric companies wanted protection for their power generation facilities and power grids and CEO's and celebrities wanted 24-hour security. The increased business meant more travel and more time away from home.

Marge's business took off about the same time. The quality of her clients grew. She was being called on more and more by Hollywood celebrities and Fortune 100 executives to design their homes and offices. Her travel increased and it was often weeks and occasionally months that Bob and Marge were apart. Marge bought a place in the Los Angeles hills because of the large volume of business she was getting from Hollywood celebrities and spent about 20 percent of her life there. Bob only saw the house in California one time. Marge's reputation grew and she became known in Europe as well as the States. The growing volume of European contracts forced her to open a London office to service the European market and she hired a well-known British interior designer to run it for a salary and a piece of the company.