A cold wind blows across a porch in Couer d'Alene, ID. The tall pines in the snowy mountains above stand vigil in dress whites sharp enough to put a Navy man to shame. But there is no light inside the house, no fire in its hearth. It sits empty, its owner still enamored of a warm desert breeze near another international border, still friends with the man who would fire him, still positive about the best job he never thought he'd have.
A job he knew he would no longer have.