Recalling the highpoints of his venture capitalist career, he remembered how happy he had been when he found out that a license was not needed to be a venture capitalist. If he could convince third parties to invest in the work of inventors and entrepreneurs, no personal funds were needed to go into business as a VC. Taking money from investors under false pretenses, taking funding for dummy entrepreneur firms, pocketing money meant for real entrepreneurs were within his grasp, and if necessary, he could always flee the country. Soon, he was on the board of several legitimate startups; some of whom trusted him to manage their money.

He was a master of a multitude of disguises. He had a professional document counterfeiting press. When he was arrested, he did not have a gang of thugs to protect him. But that was before he spent time in prison. Now he had a gang and a magnificent assortment of stolen weapons.

His plan to lash Caydance onto a couch in his camper had been foiled at the Berkeley-Stanford Big Game. He remembered how wearing a bear suit, he marched down the stadium seats; how Caydance lay limply beneath his ferocious bear thing disguise. He remembered how with a coil of dirty rope, he pulled an unconscious Caydance to his shaggy breast.

But, intent on his triumph, Alarie had not heard the approach behind him of the at onetime most feared Safety in the NFL. As soon as Griff McGuire pulled her from Alarie's bear claw hands, Alarie was tackled from behind so hard that he tumbled down to the bottom of the stands. That was the beginning of the worst afternoon of his life. The words of Federal Agents and Berkeley police officers still rang in his memory. "You are under arrest for assault and battery, attempt to kidnap, taking money from investors under false pretenses, pocketing money that was meant for real entrepreneurs, and counterfeiting Stanford University football tickets and City of Berkeley parking stickers."