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Roosevelt National Park, Frank's Creek Parking Area

"Shit. Oh, shit. Oh shit." Ranger Natalie Peters put her Jeep into park as the morning sun just started to peek over the horizon. There were lots of reasons why the minivan would be in the desolate parking area overnight, but none of them were good. There was a good six inches of snow on the vehicle; the weather service had underestimated the blizzard but it was obvious that the van had been there overnight.

Peters picked up the radio's microphone and changed the frequency to the one for the Sheriff's Department, leaving the SUV idling. "Billings dispatch, this is Ranger fourteen."

The reply was quick. "Fourteen, go."

"11-24 with possible 10-65. Code 8", she said. Abandoned vehicle, possible missing person. Request backup.

"Roger, responding unit. ETA twenty," the dispatcher replied.

Peters got out of the Jeep, zipping her jacket and pulling on her gloves. It was cold, still well below zero from the prior night's cold snap. After double checking the minivan to make sure it was empty she headed for the trail head. _No footprints, too much snow and it covered them. Damn idiot tourists._Walking a way down the trail, there was nothing to be seen, so she turned to return to the parking lot to wait for the deputy but spotted...

What is that? Looks like...oh, shit. It's an athletic shoe. Digging around a bit, she found the other shoe buried in the snow, then a pair of torn blue jeans. Starting to get a nauseating feeling, she took the jeans and the shoes back to the lot as a Billings County Sheriff's truck pulled up. They used small pickup trucks instead of cars as they were much more practical in the snow.

The deputy got out. "Hey, Natalie. What's the story?"

"Looks like... I don't know. Some damn tourist communing with nature or something." She showed the deputy her finds. "Wallet here in the pants."

"Daniel Plover," the deputy said, looking at the ID. "Hope he's frost proof." The deputy looked up toward the snowy ridge. "It was twenty below last night."

"Yeah, I know. Weather good enough for the search?" If the weather was too bad, they'd search anyway, but wouldn't ask for volunteers due to the risk.

The deputy shrugged. "Should be clear the rest of the day. Scents won't be worth a damn after all the snow and wind last night, but I'll see if we can get the dogs anyway."

They returned to the warmth and safety of the Sheriff's truck, calling in help for the search. As they waited, Peters poked the deputy in the ribs. "Take a look." Five mares wandered through the parking lot, accompanied by a small foal. Peters fumbled for her cellphone, taking a picture through the windshield. "Cass' mares. We didn't think any of them were in foal this year, he's been in pretty bad health a long time. Guess the old guy still had it in him after all."

Dan followed along beside Andrea, the other mares following the pair. It felt comfortable, but as they entered the parking area he looked toward the van, slightly confused.Jayne was going to come with him today. But who was Jayne?_He stepped toward the van, but Andrea snorted and he immediately came back next to her. _Something is dangerous. But what? Those are policemen... he stumbled a bit on the snow, still a little unsteady, and the mares crowded around him. I'm hungry. He nuzzled his dam but she kept walking. No, this is Andrea. I'm not a .. but I am a horse. It was strange, being able to see Andrea through one eye and watch the humans through the other. He savored it, much as he had imagined it would be. He paused, turning to look at the humans in the police car. The mares stopped and snorted, worried that the colt would wander off into danger. He bucked, turning and running up to the mares and followed them as they walked toward the ridge. The humans were quickly out of his mind, and he instead anticipated the excitement of a new day in his life.

The six moved down through the canyon. Though the snow was deep, in some places bushes poked through and the mares stopped to munch at the thin vegetation. Andrea kept the group moving, only allowing them to pause for a few minutes. She was fifteen, old for a wild mare though she would have been considered middle aged for a domesticated horse. But she didn't have the benefits of veterinary care, and she and the rest of Cass' band of mares were getting worn from age. She needed to find them the protection of a stallion who would defend them from the predators that roamed the park, either a bachelor or to join with another stallion's band. She knew they would be welcome by either.

Dan knew nothing of this. He only knew the joy of a colt, excited by the new smells and sounds just as a naturally born foal would have been. He dashed through the snow, tossing his head then running back to the mares, occasionally nursing then running again. From time to time a strange thought would come to his head- _The truck has to be back to the terminal Monday..._but he would push it aside as irrelevant. He was a horse, a colt, and he did not want to think about the creature that had been Dan Plover.

Andrea suddenly snorted and whinnied. Another horse called back, and a moment later a bay stallion trotted up, his ears up and tail held high, snorting. He came to the mares, who gathered close, and smelled Andrea's breath. She squealed, striking out with her foreleg, and he moved on to the others, finally coming to Dan.

_It's Hooper..._the human thoughts surfaced for a moment. Stallions would sometimes kill foals that were the offspring of other stallions to promote their genetics. He didn't know enough about Hooper, he was relatively young. The horse in Dan took over, and he stuck his head up, biting at the air. It was a submissive foal gesture, and Hooper accepted it. The bay stallion drove the mares and their foal further into the canyon, where his other four mares and their foals were. The mares mingled together, smelling and snorting, and their three foals began to run, excited at seeing Dan. He was also delighted, and began to run around with them, circling and biting at each other.

By noon, about fifteen deputies and rangers had assembled. One of the local hunters had brought his hounds, hoping that they might pick up a scent. Considering that they had found all of Plover's clothing, there was little chance that he was still alive after the subzero temperatures of the previous night, but they'd still search for the body.

As the day drew to a close, the searchers were stymied. The hounds had managed to pick up the scent, but kept circling back to where Plover's belongings had been found. Some of the clothing was torn, but it was as if it had been from the inside, and there were none of the markings that would have indicated a bear or wolf had attacked the truck driver. "I dunno, Nat," one of the deputies commented. "Maybe he had a change of clothes?"

"Why would he leave his wallet and ID?" Peters speculated. "Would he want to just disappear? And the dogs should still pick up a scent...who's this?" She looked up as a large black SUV, a Ford Excursion, pulled up. It looked somewhat out of place, shiny and new and lacking the dents and rust of the local law enforcement vehicles, and sported blue and white license plates.

The occupants that stepped out of the vehicle also looked out of place. Unlike the locals who were dressed for the cold day, they were wearing dark business suits, black patent loafers and despite the overcast day both wore sunglasses. The passenger was older, with graying hair. "Are you in charge?" he asked, in a somewhat flat voice.

"I'm Ranger Peters, coordinating the search," she replied.

The older man pulled out a small leather case, displaying his badge. "Director Keller, of the National Security Agency," he lied. The ID was genuine, and if asked the NSA would confirm that Keller was a Director, but his agency existed outside the NSA- or more officially, didn't exist at all. "We will be taking over. The park is now closed to all visitors." Several other black trucks were also pulling into the lot. "Ranger Peters, we will appreciate your cooperation."

Peters was stunned. "This guy was just a tourist..."

Keller had already considered what story to use. "Ranger, we believe that Daniel Plover was an inadvertent witness to a major drug cartel operation, and they have abducted him."

Peters was bewildered. "Drug cartels? In North Dakota?"

"The remoteness of this area and proximity to the border are the key." Other men, also dressed inappropriately in dark suits, were pulling a variety of equipment from the other SUVs. "The Mexican border is closely watched, but the Canadian border is almost totally unguarded." Though the story was implausible, Keller hoped that the locals would buy into it.

"What do you need us to do?" Peters asked.

"Can you show us any of Plover's possessions?"

She led them to the rented Caravan. Keller looked inside, then another pair of agents, wearing white gloves, began to go through the vehicle. One picked up the box of Mint-O's, looking knowingly at Keller, then continued to rummage through the car.

Well, we know what happens to the second generation now. "Ranger, this is a strange question, but are there any horses in the park with new foals?"

"Why yes," she stammered. "This time of year. Lots of them. We just saw one this morning."

"Here?" Keller was suddenly insistent. "Can you take us to him?"

Peters looked at the darkening sky. The clouds were threatening another snowfall. "We won't find them in the dark, and you guys need some proper gear."

"In the morning, then," Keller acquiesced. He walked back to his truck, leaving another agent speaking to Peters, and began to make telephone calls.