Quotes About Security

Neither capitalist indust-reality nor socialist indust-reality have been able to give humanity what most of us really want: liberty and justice, freedom and the abolition of poverty, continued growth and continued security. In looking at capitalism vs. socialism, we are always confronted with a dilemma, not a choice.

Concretely, a modern man or woman doesn't look for biosurvival security in the gene-pool, the pack, the extended family. Bio-survival depends on getting the tickets. "You can't live without money," as the Living Theatre troop used to cry out in anguish. If the tickets are withdrawn, acute bio-survival anxiety appears at once.

For this has become so crooked and perverse a nation that your precious bodily fluids are no longer your own, and not even your bladder or bloodstream are private. There is no place where they may not watch.

But like they say at the Pentagon, you have to plan for the enemy's capacity, not his intentions.

Eternal vigilance is the price of freedom.

So Pike and his guys set up, dug in, and waited, night-vision goggles, commo buds in their ears, weapons locked and hot, good to go.

I watched the mirror for black sedans as we pulled away, and checked every side street as we drove to the freeway. I looked for their big black beast as we climbed the ramp, and kept looking, even after the freeway swallowed us, a buffalo joining a herd, one hiding among the many, and finally safe.

where I keep my computer. I opened

Deep purple moved through the blue as Pike left. Pike was creepy good at this stuff, but Pike had taken a serious risk by entering Jon's home. A cocked-and-locked Kimber .45 was only inches away, not that it had done Jon any good. Embarrassing. Jon

When Pike reached home, he stretched in the parking lot to cool, then peeled off his sweatshirt, deactivated the alarms, and let himself in. His condo was austere and functional with little in the way of decoration. Dining room set off the kitchen; couch, chair, and coffee table in the living room; a flat-screen television for sports and news. A black stone meditation fountain burbled in the corner. Pike found peace in the natural sound, as if he were alone in the forest. Pike

What the fuck are you doing in my house? I could've shot your ass." "Is someone in Los Angeles selling military munitions?" Talk about non sequitur. Jon

Jon glanced at his bedroom again. Nothing moved within the black rectangle framed by the doors. "Al-Qaeda." Pike nodded. "Listen, so you know, just because some idiot sells this crap doesn't mean it's going to terrorists. All-American morons turn grenades into paperweights, and RPGs into lamps." "The woman doesn't care about morons. She's been trying to contact an FTO." FTO. Foreign terrorist organization. Jon

The front door was a standard wood entry, stained dark to match the house. A Master deadbolt was set in the frame above the knob lock. Cole pulled on a pair of vinyl gloves, selected a pick and a tension wrench from his pick kit, and went to work. Two minutes for the deadbolt, one for the knob. On-the-job training courtesy of the United States Army. Cole

I need you and Dennis on the house. Two men, twenties to thirties, dark hair straight and on the long side, five-eight to five-ten. The shorter guy is probably Latino." "They at your place now?" "No, but they'll be back. They made keys." "Ah. You want'm field dressed?" "Just let me know.

Stegner finally spoke, a quiet voice in the backseat darkness. "Please don't kill me." Pike didn't answer. Isabel should have left the house by then. She should have reached the lifeguard stand. She should be safe. Pike told himself these things, but found no solace. All the shoulds in the world meant nothing. Isabel would not be safe until he reached her.

Pike unscrewed the interior light so it wouldn't come on, then left the car. It was full-on dark now, and Pike enjoyed the darkness. Darkness, rain, snow, a storm—anything that hid you was good. He circled the house to check the windows, then slipped back onto the porch and let himself in.

Wozniak wet his lips. "You've got Paulette and Evelyn to think about." Wozniak's wife and daughter. The cloudy eyes flicked to Pike, as bottomless and as dangerous as a thunderhead. "I've been thinking about them, Pike. You bet your ass.

Somewhere between Burger King and now, the Syrian's sleight-of-hand security system worked. Pike wasn't here. I never doubted, not once, he would find me. My task was to stay alive until it happened or I could escape on my own. The United States Army sent me to something called Ranger School. The Ranger motto was sua sponte. It meant you're on your own, asshole. Okay.

Cole got out of his car first. He scanned the surrounding roofs and windows like a Secret Service agent clearing the way for the president, then meandered around his car to the passenger side. He hefted a long green duffel from behind the seat and slung it over his shoulder. Pike saw him wince. From the way the bag pulled, you could see it was heavy. Cole came back to the girl's side of the car.

When Pike turned back, Cole pointed at the corner of the roof. A pale blue alarm panel was mounted near the end of the building, but the cover was missing. Old wires had been cut, and new wires had been clipped to bypass the old. Whoever jumped the alarms hadn't bothered to replace the cover, as if they didn't care whether or not their work was discovered.

Streetlamps and security lights blazed hot in the confined lane, giving the mist a purple-blue glow. Pike stopped outside Dru's house. A few windows glowed dull ocher in the surrounding houses, but most were dark and all were quiet. No one was awake. Even Jared's window was dark. Pike

Stone held up something that looked like the GPS locator he removed from Pike's Jeep. "Remember this?" Walsh reddened as Stone went on. "It's not yours. We canned the one you put on his Jeep. This one's mine. White-burst digital ceramic, no RF, will not show on airport scanners or wands. It's better than yours." The

On a more personal level, it is very likely that at some time in your life you will come into painful contact with a psychopath. For your own physical, psychological, and financial well-being it is crucial that you know how to identify the psychopath, how to protect yourself, and how to minimize the harm done to you.

We are far more likely to lose our life savings to an oily-tongued swindler than our lives to a steely-eyed killer.