The temperature was a few degrees above freezing—not bad at all. It was almost 7 a.m., a couple of hours after sunrise. In the lake shallows, a moose breakfasted on early aquatic greens. With slow grace, two trumpeter swans glided past the dock, stirring the mist, before landing on the water. They probably had a nest nearby.

It was spring, after all.

He gave a dour snort. Bah, humbug.

And yet…

He’d fought insurgents in the desert, policed in the polluted stench of overcrowded Los Angeles, and spent the last couple of years in and out of South America’s steamy jungles.

Spring in Alaska had to be the most beautiful time and place on the planet.

Sipping coffee, he stood and watched the mist dissipate as the world came to life.

To his right, he could see the semicircle of the other cabins, similar in design. His was the leftmost arm, then his brothers’ three houses, and finally Mako’s empty cabin at the other end of the U. The enclosed two acres contained a chicken yard, garden, patio, and gazebo.

The other night, when he, Bull, and Caz had grilled outside, he’d kept waiting for Mako’s gruff comments. His death had left such a big hole behind.

“Dammit,” Gabe said under his breath. “I miss you, Sarge.”

In the chicken yard, the rooster spotted Gabe and crowed a challenge. Caz had bought the flock from a prepper who was moving back to Missouri. Alaska winters, not for the faint-hearted.

Over the last couple of days, Gabe had worked on repairing the coop to keep out weasels. This afternoon, his day off, he’d start on the garden. There was something calming about planting, he had to admit. Baumer volunteered to work the late Friday through Sunday shifts, so Gabe had weekdays, and the state troopers would cover the rest.

Until things were under control, Gabe’d be putting in a lot more than full-time.

A few minutes later, Gabe backed the Jeep out of the garage and punched the remote to close the garage door, then grinned. Mako’s idea of high tech had been a coffee maker, and the paranoid old survivalist would’ve preferred the cabins wall-to-wall with only tiny, sniper-sized windows. It’d almost turned into a war. Gabe had been damned if he’d give up that gorgeous view of the lake and mountains. To keep the peace, they’d put closable shutters on the huge windows, electric fencing between the cabins to make the compound bear and moose proof, and used a solar and battery-operated pump on the well.

When the power went off a few years ago, they’d been warm, dry, and fed…thanks to Mako’s foresight.