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Dan slept quite a bit that night, with Andrea and the other mares standing guard around him and the other foals. Being young, they slept quite a bit more than the adult horses, only waking occasionally for a quick bit of milk then lying down and sleeping again. He woke in the morning, feeling more alive and content than he had in years. I'm a horse now. But what was I before? Memories of his human life were becoming brief, disturbing flashes. He pushed them aside, nursed, then began to run about, trying to get the other foals to play. They responded, though they seemed to get tired more easily than Dan. It was great fun, running about on the soft grass, moist with melting snow, and bumping into the other colts and trying to knock them over. The mares allowed the roughhousing, knowing instinctively that it was preparing them for their future, when they would fight in earnest for herd leadership.

This morning, though, something was different. Hooper snorted, then called to his mares, his ears perked up at a distant and strange noise. The foals mostly ignored it, knowing the mares would signal them if it was time to move, but a memory stirred in Dan's mind. Helicopter. A big one. Why would it be here in the...park? What's a park?

It was the usual military screw up, the pilot thought. Captain Ronald Jeffers fiddled a bit with the UH-1's cyclic control. "Exactly what are we supposed to be looking for?" he rhetorically asked his co-pilot.

Lieutenant Jan Young peered out the left door. "Beats me. Maybe snow?" She tapped the intercom to speak to the airmen in the back. "You guys see anything?" Normally the UH-1N's were used to transport Air Policemen to their posts on missile bases, but today the alert helicopter- usually on standby in case there was an incident at a missile site, or if a plane from Minot went down- had been scrambled, ordered to fly to the National Park at first light, and await further instructions.

Before the crewmen could reply, the radio squealed- a sign that a scrambled message was coming in and the radio had to synchronize with the transmitter. The audio was a little bit tinny as a result. "Gopher Charlie Nine One, Backstop. Stand by for transmission."

"That's fucking useful information," Jeffers grumbled before he pushed the transmit button on his joystick. "Backstop, Gopher Charlie Nine One, ready to copy."

Another voice came on. "Nine One, this is Magic Mirror. Begin a grid search pattern with bullseye at the entrance gate for Teddy Roosevelt National Park. You are instructed to note locations for any group of wild horses accompanied by foals and report immediately. Over."

"Magic Mirror, this is Gopher Charlie Nine One. Roger," Jeffers replied.

"Well, this is worth the taxpayer's money," Young said sarcastically as she pushed the intercom. "Okay guys, we're on a rodeo. Look for the horses. Yee Haw!" she said.

"Horses?" the Air Policeman said incredulously.

"Yup. Orders from on high," she replied. "And if you see any Indians, watch out for they don't scalp you." She looked over at Jeffers, who was already banking the helicopter into a left turn. "Any idea what nutcase this Magic Mirror is?"

Jeffers knew a little about Intelligence code names. "Magic is usually some kind of CIA operation. Maybe the horses are communist spies."

They flew over the Frank's Creek parking area, which was already filled with several park ranger vehicles and several black SUVs, then began a grid search pattern. At relatively low altitude, they could still see quite a large area, and quickly spotted Hooper's band. "Magic Mirror, Gopher Charlie Nine One. Horses spotted at Bullseye 310, distance three point seven miles," Young announced into the radio. "Horses are moving at moderate speed, course 270. Do you want us to engage?"

"Negative," the voice on the radio snapped back. "Break off, resume search pattern."

"Cool," Jeffers said, pushing the cyclic control to the right and tapping the right pedal.

Peters was wearing appropriate winter hiking boots as part of her uniform, while Keller wore patent leather loafers that would have been more appropriate in a Senate office building, but the ranger was soon having trouble keeping up with the Intelligence agent as he rushed down the snow covered trail toward the sighting. He was carrying binoculars and an odd looking walkie talkie that he'd been communicating with the helicopter with. "The helicopter probably spooked them," she said, huffing for breath. "They'll stop pretty quick once they fly away."

Keller was regretting calling in the Air Force for help. I should have got some drones. Not scared them. They came to the top of a hill. The horses were in the distance, still moving but not quickly, and Keller brought the binoculars to his eyes, then handed them to Peters. "The palomino colt. Is he the one you saw yesterday?"

Peters looked. "Yes, he's Andrea's. The blue roan. Cass must have bred her."

Keller looked back at her. "A blue roan can't have a palomino."

The ranger was taken aback. "You're right. I didn't think of that. She really hasn't looked like she was in foal this year." She handed back the binoculars. "Agent Keller, what exactly is going on?" It didn't make sense. Kidnapping by a drug ring, and chasing after horses.

"Can we get closer to them?" Keller asked. He was already moving down the slope across the rough terrain, not waiting for her reply.

Hooper was alert and heard the humans approaching. The mares also started to look up warily. Generally the humans they encountered were no threat, as the horses were protected in the park, but still they were something to be carefully watched. The herd stallion moved to place himself between the two humans and his band as the mares huddled together, becoming another barrier between the humans and the four foals.

Peters caught up with Keller as he stopped about ten yards from Hooper. She gasped as he pulled a large automatic from a shoulder holster. "You can't kill him," she cried out.

"I don't intend to," Keller replied as he pulled the slide back, pulling a round into the weapon's chamber. "This is simply a precaution."

The ranger stumbled across an icy rock as she got closer to the agent. "What does this have to do with drug smugglers?"

Keller looked over at her with a bland expression. "Ranger Peters, I believe you'll understand shortly what's happening here. It cannot be publicly disclosed." He began to walk toward the mares as Hooper snorted and bobbed his head threateningly. Keller ignored the stallion's gestures, focused on the palomino colt and abruptly called out. "Daniel Plover! I'm with the government. We're here to help you!"

He's off his rocker. I'm out here with a nutcase with a huge gun.. Peters thought for a moment of running off, then froze as the palomino colt warily began to walk toward Keller.

Confused thoughts ran through Dan's head. He was afraid to leave Andrea's side, but the human somehow knew his name. Or was it his name? Why didn't the other horses understand the human? They were snorting; Andrea pushed past the other mares and trotted up next to him protectively, nipping at his flanks to try to turn him back to the safety of the herd. But a mixture of fear and excitement drove Dan toward the human, who suddenly knelt down as Dan approached. He walked up to the man until he was a foot away and looked curiously into his face.

"Keller, those are wild horses," Parker warned as she backed away, watching Hooper and Andrea as they snorted and pawed, uncertain as to why the foal was ignoring their warning and walking into a dangerous situation.

The agent seemed oblivious, entirely focused on the colt. "Mr. Plover, can you understand me?" The Ranger was convinced at that moment that Keller was nuts, but that conclusion vanished as the colt suddenly nodded his head. Keller continued, speaking in a gentle voice. "I'm sorry that we didn't get to you in time to warn you. An experiment went wrong. We have no way to change you back."

"This can't be real," Parker said.

Keller glanced back at her, then to Dan. "Mr. Plover, you can come back with us, or you can stay here with the wild horses." It's a gross violation of policy to let him stay here- I should bring him in for studies, but hell, I'm the Director. He seems to be taking it well, but most of them do.

Dan didn't fully understand. Why would he warn me? I'm a horse. But I wasn't once. That's okay. I'm a horse. The idea of leaving Andrea and the safety and companionship that he'd never known as a human was frightening. He turned away, cantering back to Andrea who nuzzled him with relief.

Peters and Keller watched silently as the small band of horses moved away from them single file. As they crested a hill, the government agent spoke. "Ranger Parker, I trust that you will exclude him from the annual adoption roundup." Every year, some of the yearlings would be randomly selected and placed for adoption to keep the herd from overpopulating the park. "He'll be happier here."

"Mr. Keller...what exactly is going on?" the Ranger asked slowly.

The agent didn't immediately respond, but turned and began to walk back down the snow covered path. "As a matter of national security, I need your assurance that you will keep this confidential." Keller had already reviewed Peters' file the previous night, and knew that in all probability she would. But who would believe such an insane story?

"People don't turn into horses," Peters persisted as she began to follow Keller back toward where the vehicles were parked. "Do they?"

Keller pondered his response and decided on a partial truth. "There was a research accident. For the most part, Mr. Plover will forget that he was anything but a horse. I cannot tell you anything more, but I... the government intends to protect him and let him lead as normal a life as possible."

They stumbled over an icy patch as they approached the parking lot, still full of the vehicles of sheriffs, rangers, local volunteers and several black government SUVs. Various small groups were talking and poring over maps. Keller made a motion and the other government agents began to make their way toward their vehicles. The county sheriff was on the scene, along with a few local television crews and he headed to meet Keller and Peters.

"What's the story?" the sheriff queried as several reporters began to hover nearby.

Keller took in a breath. "I am Special Agent Keller of the FBI. Unfortunately, it appears that Mr. Plover was attacked and eaten by mountain lions." Peters groaned, knowing that this would cause a general panic among hikers for several months, plus higher attendance as people would visit the park hoping to catch a glimpse of the 'man eater'. "Although this is not a Federal case, since it occurred at a National Park the FBI was able to help local law enforcement in the search."

Keller walked off as the reporters began to bombard the sheriff with questions regarding the danger of another attack. Peters caught up with him as he opened the passenger door to one of the black SUVs and climbed in. "Keller..."

"We will contact you, Ranger Peters," he replied as he shut the door. The agent at the wheel started the vehicle, and a small convoy of the Agency SUVs pulled out of the park.

Pleasant Grove Farm, near Richmond, Virginia

Marcella Reed watched from her house as the plain sedan pulled into the parking area near the barn. Snow was just starting to fall, the remnants of the blizzard that had swept across the northern plains two days before. The tall man who she believed owned the mare named Rose got out and walked into the barn. She turned back to her tea. Keller was odd and never rode the horse, though he came to see her at least once a week. More than once she, one of the stable hands, or one of the boarders had come across Keller talking to the horse as if she could understand him. He was harmless enough, and let the therapy program program use Rose where she was the most popular and reliable of all the horses.

Rose looked up from her hay when she heard Keller's footsteps and peered over the dutch doors of her stall, nickering a greeting.

"Hello Rose," Keller softly replied, walking over and gently laying his hand on the mare's neck. "There's another one. A young man, Dan Plover. I left him with the wild horses."

Rose turned her head slightly so she could get a better view of the agent. I know you weren't supposed to do that. But you weren't supposed to bring me here, either, were you? She pushed her muzzle against his shoulder, rubbing him softly in reassurance.

Keller ran his fingers through her mane, rubbing the crest of the mare's neck. "I don't know how many more there'll be this time." Most almost seemed relieved by the transformation, as if they were genetically predispositioned to be an equine, though some had a hard time coping.

Rose responded by nickering again. You were there for me. I know you have to help the others, but I feel jealous when you are away.

He began to rub the mare's neck with both his hands as she let out an almost human sigh. "I'm sorry I didn't get to you in time, Rose. We could have been...very special together."