The closest Sam had ever come to meeting an elected official in person was the time he almost attended a town hall meeting. Now he was seated in a pony-run café at the same table with the mayor of Greenwood Village.
Not that she had even a hint of politics about her. He couldn't tell what political party she was, and he didn't bother to ask. He simply nursed his cup of coffee, a half-eaten sandwich off to the side that was left of his late lunch, trying to figure out what to say. His mind was still reeling from the revelations Connie had bestowed upon him.
Connie broke the odd silence for him. "I'm sorry you had to hear all this, but I thought you should know."
Sam simply nodded and took another sip as he looked around. He and Connie were seated at one of the tables sized for humans. Most of the others were built for ponies, and the place was packed with them. Normally this would mean a cacophony of incessant, bright conversation, but now it was more muted with a somber undertone.
Sam had not intended to give vent to his emotions, especially not to an elected official, but he had no one else. "Was I wrong to want Bev to rehumanize? All I ever wanted was the best for her."
"I don't think it does any good to second guess yourself now," said Connie.
"But if I hadn't badgered her, maybe she wouldn't have felt the need to be on the run. She would've trusted me more, and we wouldn't be in this situation."
"I have a feeling Fuller would have wanted her regardless of either your intentions or hers."
"Yes, but maybe I could've better protected her. She thought she was safe among ponies."
"I don't think she would've been any safer among humans," said Connie. "Fuller would have found a way to get at her regardless of anything you could have done."
Sam could have argued the point further, but it would have led to more self-recrimination. "There's a lot you said you couldn't tell me."
Connie lay her hand on a book she had on the table next to her, a purple tassel hanging from its bookmark. "I have a contact who's close to what's going on. There's still some hope that things will be resolved."
"And Bev will be freed?"
"I can't say yet what will happen. She'll probably have to answer for something, but I doubt she truly committed a crime."
Sam frowned. "Other than being a fugitive."
"Any good lawyer will be able to claim mitigating circumstances and make it stick," said Connie. "It's not what you should be worrying about now."
"If I had realized what Larry was doing sooner, I could've at least met with Bev. Maybe I could've been there when the FBI came!"
"And do what? You would've been swept up with the rest of them."
Sam realized he was falling back into the same pattern he had just tried to avoid, but too many bad memories had been stirred up. "Yes, but at least I would be there for her. Maybe they're right when they say the fruit doesn't fall far from the tree."
"Come again?"
"My old man," Sam said in a lower voice. "Didn't give a shit about his family. I feel like I've been that way towards Bev. Maybe I wasn't trying to drink myself to death like my father was, but still--"
"Blaming yourself is not going to get anywhere," said Connie. "To hear Bev talk about you, you're nothing like your father."
Sam wanted to believe that, but what had he done ever since hearing she had escaped from the internment camp? Granted, he had his own problems to deal with, like trying to find a job, but couldn't he have spared her at least a thought now and then?
He dreaded meeting Eileen again. All she likely remembered was how he had refused to take her into the quarantined town. All she had wanted was to be reunited with her son, and he had abandoned her. What right did he have to claim that he actually cared for Bev?
"Did you know that my daughter is a pony?" Connie asked.
Sam took a moment to pull himself from his introspection. "No, I didn't."
"I did the same thing you are for a while. I blamed myself for not doing something sooner to prevent her full transformation."
"Well, what could you do? ETS didn't just stop because someone wished it."
"Yes, exactly, and I think the situation is the same for you concerning Bev."
Sam frowned. "If I had bothered to keep in contact with her--"
"I don't think it would've make a difference," said Connie as she reached into her pocket. "Nothing you would've said to Bev would've changed her mind." She raised a cell phone into view. "Sorry, I have to take this." She lifted the phone to her face and turned away from Sam. "Yes, Sheriff Dave, what's up?"
Sam sighed and stared into his coffee. Would he have offered Bev a place to stay had he been able to contact her? He could barely support himself let alone a sibling. From what Connie had told him about how she affected electronics, it was doubtful she would ever be able to go back to her old career, her pining for becoming fully pony notwithstanding.
He frowned as his mind tried to drift back to ways of thinking he had forced himself to abandon. He couldn't go back to blaming ponies or even ETS itself for everything. Perhaps he finally had to give up his roots. There were jobs in America for his skill set, just not in Denver.
"Good to hear, Dave, even if it meant it helped Fuller's agents get what they wanted," said Connie.
Sam raised his eyes to her.
"Are they canceling the rest of the school day?" Connie asked into the phone. "No, I haven't heard anything more other than Sandy Beach is safe with Heller's office ... Yes, I was offered protection as well, but I still have a job to do and a daughter to care for ... All right, talk to you later." She looked up, her phone still in her hand. "Sorry about that."
"Mayor business?" Sam guessed.
"Mostly. Fuller used the report of a gunman at my daughter's school to pull the police away from the building Bev was in. I just heard the GVPD confirmed there's no threat, and they're lifting the lockdown of the school."
"I'm sure your daughter will be glad to hear that."
"Not half as glad as I am. I need to let my husband Frank know." Connie started a call. "Hey, honey, it's me. They lifted the lockdown of Chrissie's school ... No, actually, I'm closer, I can get her. It'll give me a chance to talk to the reporters that are likely there by now. Sorry you had to leave the office for nothing ... Yes, I'll bring her straight home. Love you." Connie stood. "I have to go. Do you want to come along?"
"Um, sure, I guess," Sam said. "Not like I have much else to do."
"I just thought you could use someone to talk to for a little while longer."
Sam smiled weakly. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Can you be my mayor instead?"
Connie laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment. Thank you."
Anthony sorely wished he had thought to bring his laptop with him, as doing research on his phone taxed his fingers and eyes. It also strained the battery, so much so that he had to plug his phone into one of the van's USB ports up front to recharge, much to Danton's annoyance. He had been spurred into action by Twilight's text detailing what Kelsey had told her, confirming his worst fears that the FBI agents surrounding him were all mentally compromised.
His diligence paid off. He had expanded on the initial research that Jason had done concerning the list of names Tonya had provided. He had established dates when they were first at MIDROC together, and when their duty logs became more highly classified at Fuller's order to hide what they were actually doing.
Usually he did this kind of work when he could sit at his desk working quietly, not in a moving van that rumbled with highway noise and jostled at every bump in the road. Yet he felt he was under a time constraint; every moment he let slip by was that much more time Fuller had to do what he wished with the prisoners.
He pieced together a picture of Fuller as a man surrounding himself with people who answered only to him, possibly mentally conditioned to act that way. He found reports of misconduct by agents under Fuller's watch, many dismissed for "lack of evidence." What few had managed to stick were mired in red tape, still awaiting a formal review that likely was never forthcoming.
While he compiled his notes, he received some good news, a single word texted to him from a contact in Washington: Paydirt.
Anthony allowed himself a small smile. It meant that his DBA friends had finally backdoored into the PREQUES database and found evidence of tampering. However, this was not quite as much of a victory as it could have been. There were two code phrases he could have received. "Paydirt" meant evidence of tampering, but Ryan's real records were irrevocably gone. "Gold mine" would have meant they had recovered the lost record. They still had to rely on more arcane methods of establishing Ryan's real identity.
He soon received some outright bad news when his office contacted him: Agents bolted and eluded capture.
Anthony frowned. Location?
Unknown. We're looking.
Submit emergency request with the Director's office to pull their active status.
Another thing, came the next response. Castle Rock office reported they were acting oddly. Sent it up the chain before we could stop them. Not sure if it hit MIDROC yet.
Put out an immediate APB, Anthony texted back. Consider them armed and dangerous, mental state questionable. Ignore all attempts by MIDROC to pull that APB.
Hell, we're ignoring MIDROC period. Fuller is batshit insane if even a fraction of these claims are true.
Despite the situation, Anthony did feel good that he could still count on people to respect him. He also saw it as living up to the ideal of what the Bureau should be, and not the bastardized version that Fuller had molded it into.
Anthony didn't want to take any chances. APBs usually got out fairly quickly, but he had a faster way to notify those who might be in the most danger. He started a text to send to Connie to give her a heads-up.
Sheriff Dave lingered at the edge of the school grounds with one of his deputies, the crisp afternoon breeze blowing a few stray strands of mane hair before his eyes. He tipped his hat forward to better shade his eyes as the sun dipped lower into the west as he looked towards the school where the police presence was starting to thin.
The police were giving the playground one last look. Dave would have offered to help, but Chief Hanner was here, and the two did not quite see eye to eye. Hanner had not been very keen on accepting Dave as sheriff despite it not really being his call in the first place. Technically, the term "sheriff" didn't apply, as that was a term generally used at the county level in Colorado. Yet the city council would have balked at giving Dave some other formal law enforcement title when Connie had appointed him.
Besides, Dave thought "sheriff" had a nicer ring to it. He believed it fit the whole pony theme a lot better.
His deputy, a pegaus named Fair Wind, stepped up to him. "Wondering if we should leave. We're sorta the fifth wheel now."
"I promised Connie I'd stick around until she got here," said Dave.
Fair smirked. "You just want the excuse to see Chrissie."
Dave chuckled. "You gotta admit, the little filly's cute as a button."
"You know she's gonna want to show off what magic she can do now."
"Looking forward to it! What she doesn't have in skill yet she makes up for in pure determination. To hear Connie tell it, she's looking to be the next Twilight Sparkle."
Fair grinned. "Wonder if she'll take something like that for her pony name."
"Oh, I don't know," Dave drawled. "Christina sounds like a fine name for a pony."
"Of course, you're not biased, Sheriff Dave."
"Just like you're not either, Deputy Fair Wind."
The two laughed, at least until Fair stopped and pointed a hoof towards the street. "So what's going on over there?"
Dave turned, one eyebrow rising slightly as his gaze fell on two men in slightly soiled jackets over suits. One was holding out a badge to the police officers. When he lowered his arm, Dave got a glimpse of the front of the jacket, enough to see a large white letter "F".
Fair unfolded his wings and hovered, craning his neck. "Feds?"
"Looks like it," said Dave.
"Uh, normally I wouldn't be concerned about them showing up at a situation like this, but after what happened this morning ..."
"I hear ya," said Dave. "We better have a look-see."
Dave led the way, cantering towards them with Fair flying beside him. Dave swiveled his ears forward to better catch the conversation.
"--it best that we see to Miss Morgan's safety in light of the earlier threat to the school," one of the FBI agents said.
An older gentlemen among the officers stepped forward. "I'm Police Chief Hanner. There's no evidence that this threat was targeted specifically for Mayor Morgan's child."
"This is a precautionary measure," said the agent as Dave stepped up to them. "It's best that we don't take any chances."
"Now hold on a minute here," said Dave. "Mrs. Morgan can't be more then ten minutes away at best. Surely the police can handle security until then."
"Sheriff Dave, I can handle this," said Hanner before turning back to the agent. "Though he's right, we can handle this just fine."
Dave tilted his head and looked past the first agent towards the second. The second one had his face turned away, as if he were surveying the area.
"We were specifically ordered to take charge of the child for her safety," said the first agent.
"Normally, I wouldn't quibble," said Hanner. "But let's just say we haven't exactly had a good experience with the Bureau today."
"Regardless, we have jurisdiction over you."
"Yes, that again. Maybe you can claim that with my officers when I'm not around, but I'm not so easy to bully. Perhaps we should wait until Mrs. Morgan is here and let her decide."
"Who sent you?" Dave demanded.
The first agent glanced at him. "I beg your pardon?"
"What office are you working out of?"
The agent hesitated before replying, "Broomfield."
Dave nodded slowly. The agent's voice was becoming increasingly agitated. The second agent continued to look away.
"What exactly does that have to do with anything, Dave?" Hanner asked.
"Just wondering if a mutual friend was the one who sent them, that's all."
"Yes," the agent said. "Heller thought the extra protection was warranted."
"Isn't that the agent Mrs. Morgan's been in contact with?" Hanner asked.
"That's right," said Dave. "Would've thought he'd give us a heads up that he was sending someone."
"Chief Hanner, unless you have a valid reason not to grant us access to these grounds, you can't stop us from doing our duty," said the first agent, his voice now edging over into outright hostility.
"I don't like this, chief," said Dave.
"Neither do I," said Hanner. He stepped up to the agents. "We'll admit you onto the school grounds but not into the building."
"You're preventing us from doing our duty," the agent complained.
"The inside of the building has been cleared as secure. There's no threat. Staying out here will have to be good enough for now."
The agent's jaw tightened, and he let out a brief, exasperated breath through his nose. "Very well, but we are entering that building the moment we believe there is a clear threat to Miss Morgan."
Dave frowned as Hanner gestured for his officers to step aside. The two agents marched through, the shoulder of one brushing that of one of the officers.
Connie smiled as she drove carefully down the main road through the pony sector. "So I soon discovered that I shouldn't underestimate the resourcefulness of a little unicorn filly despite her lack of a working levitation spell. I thought those cookies would be safe on the counter since Frank hadn't finished pony-enabling the house yet. Then I find that Chrissie had opened the drawers under the counter in such a way that she could use them as stairs."
Sam laughed. "Sounds like some of the stories that Bev would tell back when she had a cat that could get into places she never expected he could."
"I threatened to nickname Christina 'kitty' if she didn't stop. It's still a joke between us whenever she does something unexpectedly clever."
"I have to admit, I'm not sure I could raise a pony child," Sam said in a more somber voice.
"I won't say it's been easy," said Connie. "Despite the fact that Chrissie is quickly mastering her levitation spell, it still presents a lot of challenges."
"So you're not pushing for her rehumanization."
"No, and please don't take that to be a judgment of you concerning Bev."
"Still, it makes me realize that she has her own life and needs to decide for herself what's best," said Sam. "What I'm really worried about is that she's far enough along that ... uh ..."
"Yes?"
Sam hesitated, and she found him shaking his head when she glanced at him. "I better not go there, not when, uh, your child is fully pony."
"Then I'll go there," said Connie. "You're afraid your sister has been brainwashed, for lack of a better word."
"Uh, yeah."
"It's something Frank and I have wrestled with concerning Christina."
"And how did you two handle it?"
Connie smiled faintly. "By accepting it. We know her thinking has changed and that her priorities are different now. Labeling it is not going to change anything."
"Other than give you more impetus to want to see her change back," said Sam. "I'm not criticizing you, I just can't help but play devil's advocate given my own feelings."
"I understand, and I don't take offense. I can speak only to my own situation. Christina had one change forced on her, I don't want to see it happen again, however well-intentioned it is."
"And Bev is not exactly a child," Sam said in a softer voice. "She should be allowed to make her own decision."
"It's not like rehumanization can be forced anyway," said Connie. "It has to be a personal choice."
"But what choice does she have, really? No one is going to let her transform fully into a pony."
Connie had not revealed her contact with Twilight to Sam, but Twilight was likely still bound by treaty obligations and could not offer any assistance. At the same time, there were no laws governing what a human did when they were on the other side of the portal. The Equestrian government had made it clear that any beings on their soil had to abide by Equestrian law, except, of course, for swearing any allegiance or loyalty to the diarchy.
"Things might change," Connie offered. "Or some other alternative might present itself."
"Do you know of any?" Sam asked.
Connie considered her reply when her cell phone chimed. She took it out and found she had a text message from Anthony. "This is likely important but I don't want to take my attention away from driving." She held the phone out to the side. "Sam, could you read this text to me?"
"Sure," Sam said as she felt him take the phone from her hand. "Tracking two rogue agents in your area. Have APB out but giving you heads up."
Rogue agents? Connie wished she had not been driving so she could ask for more details. Were they Fuller's agents? What could they possibly want now?
"That's the whole message," said Sam.
"Please do me a favor," said Connie. "Look through my contacts and find the one labeled Sheriff Dave. Forward him that text."
"Of course. Is something wrong?"
"I sure hope not."
"Something about this is bothering me," Fair said softly to Dave as they watched the agents approach the building.
"Tell me about it," Dave said, frowning. "This whole deal stinks. I didn't like how that other agent looked like he was trying not to have his face seen."
"I saw it," Hanner said. "What about it?"
"You didn't maybe recognize him or something?" asked Dave.
"Was I supposed to? He didn't look like anyone we know who's wanted by the law."
Dave felt his phone vibrate. He raised his foreleg and glanced at the message. An eyebrow arched, and he looked towards the agents. "Chief Hanner, you ever get a look at Sandy's video?"
"I didn't have time before she was taken into protective custody," said Hanner.
"I have," said Fair.
"Fair, go do a flyby," said Dave. "See if you can get a look at that other agent's face. Be casual about it."
Fair already had his wings unfolded. "You got it. Be right back."
Hanner leaned closer to Dave as Fair flew off. "What was that all about?"
"A hunch," said Dave. "One I'm hoping to be dead wrong about."
Dave's gaze followed Fair as he winged his way over the heads of the two agents. He made a leisurely turn as he looked down, the agents glancing briefly at him. As soon as he was out of their sight, he rocketed back towards Dave and whispered urgently, "That other agent is the guy from Sandy's video!"
"Shit," Dave muttered.
"Are you sure?" Hanner said just as his radio squawked.
"Chief Hanner, code red," crackled a voice over the radio loud enough to cross the grounds. "APB came in on the wire. Two rogue FBI agents to be considered armed and--"
The agents broke into a run towards the school entrance.
Hanner whirled around and pointed. "Stop them!"
Dave knew that the order was intended for Hanner's officers and not him, but he took off at full gallop anyway, knowing his earth pony nature gave him more speed than an average human. Several human officers were closer, however, and they tore after the agents, a few drawing their guns.
The agents had reached one of the parked police cars in front of the building, and by the time anyone saw that they already had their guns out, they had jumped behind the car and pointed their weapons towards the approaching blue phalanx.
Several sharp cracks heralded the agents' first volley, and the police scattered for cover. The first agent appeared to be purposely shooting high to avoid actually hitting anyone, but the other was taking more level aim.
Dave heard an alarmed cry above and behind him followed by sickening thud to the ground, but he couldn't take the time to look when the more aggressive agent leveled a shot towards an officer who was late in finding cover. Dave stopped in his tracks, reared on his hind legs, and brought his fore-hooves down in a burst of thunder.
The ground reverberated with the strike, but only in a specific direction. The ground shook under the agents' feet as if a miniature earthquake had started under them. Behind them, the spreading shock wave ruptured a fire hydrant, water spewing out in a torrent. The agent's shot went awry, the gun pointed into the air instead of at the officer.
Dave had hoped to capitalize on the moment, but he had taken no more than a few steps when the agent recovered and leveled the gun directly at him.
Before he could respond, he was tackled hard just before the crack of the shot. He rolled into it, coming out of it back on his hooves. His rescuer was not quite as fortunate, flopping onto his belly with a loud huff of escaping air, bat-like wings splayed to either side.
"Sorry this is past your bedtime, Midnight," Dave drawled.
Midnight Star groaned as he slowly rose to his hooves, the two of them standing behind a police car. He rubbed his head with a fore-hoof and winced. "Fuck, I swear, earth ponies are goddamn bricks with legs."
"I appreciate the help."
"I had trouble sleeping anyway," Midnight explained. "Woke up around noon, decided to poke around to see what happened, had one of your deputies tell me all hell broke loose without me. Again."
Dave looked past him and saw the other officers starting to move out from cover. "Hang on a minute."
Chief Hanner stepped towards them, his radio held to his face. "Backup requested. Shots fired. One pony down. Possible hostage situation in progress."
Dave looked towards where he had heard the crash. His heart lurched as he saw a limp Fair Wind, some blood pooled under him, several officers tending to him.
"Took a shot to the wing," Hanner said. "Might have a broken foreleg from the fall."
Dave's eyes lingered on his fallen deputy before he glanced at the building. "And I take it they got inside?"
"The hell?" Midnight said. "Those looked like feds to me."
"They are. Rogue FBI agents."
"Jesus, I can't leave you folks alone for two minutes! I knew I should've stayed up and helped."
Hanner frowned as he lowered his radio and pointed to Midnight. "I want you out of here, now."
"What are you talking about?" Midnight said. "You just said those bastards are in there with the foals. You think I'm just going to fly away from this one?"
"You will if you know what's good for you. Last thing I need is for you going off half-cocked making the situation worse."
Midnight peered at the man, "Oh, yeah, you're Hanner. Heard you were a wee bit of a ponyphobe."
"That's enough," said Dave. "Chief Hanner, normally I would agree with you, but Midnight here is very good at getting around without being noticed. I think he might be an asset here."
"Thank you," Midnight said.
Dave turned towards him. "Make no mistake about this, you take orders to us. You don't go off on your own."
"Right, I got it. Just so long as I can do something."
"Dave, this pony is not even on your force let alone mine," Hanner protested.
"Then I'll fix that right now," said Dave. "Midnight, I hereby deputize you."
Midnight blinked, then broke into a wide smile.
"And don't let that title go to your head! I see you messing around even once, and I'll yank that back ASAP. Got it?"
Midnight nodded. "Got it."
"This can't be even remotely legal," Hanner muttered.
"Complain to Mrs. Morgan when she arrives, but I have authority she granted me," said Dave.
"Which I disagreed with strenuously."
"Now's not the time for this. I know we haven't seen eye to eye many times, chief, but I know that school like the back of my hoof. I can show you ways to get into the building without being seen."
"I admit, I need all the help I can get." Hanner glanced at Midnight. "Even as much as I'm doubtful of some of that help. I'll break it to Mrs. Morgan when she arrives."
"Everypony, stay down!" Peach Blossom cried as the foals scrambled to dive under their desks in a flurry of fur, hair, and feathers, hooves scraping against the hardwood floor.
"But Miss Blossom, we thought the danger was over!" came one foal's quavering voice as he peeked out from under his desk, his eyes wide and fearful.
Peach's heart raced as she looked towards the windows. "I know, but those sounded like gunshots, and we shouldn't take any chances."
"M-maybe it's just some sort of drill," suggested another foal, though her voice was as scared as the rest.
"They're not going to do something like that without telling us," rang Christina's voice, far less shaken than her peers. "Mom told me they always brief you on that sort of thing."
Peach couldn't help but be proud of Christina, as well as a little envious; she sounded more calm than Peach felt. Peach hoped she had completely misinterpreted what she had heard outside. She would have thought it perhaps some other noise coming from a further distance, but not when it was accompanied by shouts that could have come only from the immediate vicinity.
She flinched when she heard a noise from her desk, letting out a relieved sigh when she realized it was her cell phone vibrating. She stepped behind her desk and saw she had a text message from Sheriff Dave: Two rogue FBI agents inside building. Armed and dangerous. Keep the foals safe.
Peach's heart sank. She had hoped never to truly be in this situation. They had had their fair share of scares, the worst being a drunk human shouting epithets from the school yard. He had been unarmed, and the police had easily taken him into custody.
Peach heard a soft knock at the door and saw the face of fellow faculty member Amber Wave hovering in the window, gesturing urgently.
Peach stepped up to the door and opened it. The gold-yellow pegasus' wings hummed slightly as she hovered. "Peach, there's two humans in the building. They look like FBI agents, but something is really wrong about them. And those noises from outside--!"
"They're not to be trusted, Amber," said Peach." What did you see?"
"I saw them enter one of the classrooms, stay for a few moments, then head out and go to the next one."
"They're not hurting anypony?"
"Not so far. They seem to be looking for something."
"Or somepony."
"But who?" Amber's pupils shrank as she realized the answer to her own question. She leaned in close and whispered, "Christina Morgan?"
Peach simply nodded.
Amber swallowed hard. "If they keep going from classroom to classroom, they're going to be here in minutes!"
Peach took a deep breath and let it go as a ragged sigh. "Amber, stay here and watch the foals. I'll deal with them."
Peach began to step out of the classroom, but Amber placed a fore-hoof on her chest. "Peach, you can't!"
"I have to!" Peach said in an urgent whisper. "Principal Kelly is out with a cold, and I'm acting principal whenever he's not here."
"Just what are you going to do?"
"Find out if they really are after Christina," said Peach. "And if so, lead them anywhere but here."
Connie tried not to panic as Chief Hanner apprised her of the situation. She instead forced herself to remain calm as she nodded and asked, "Do we have any idea what the motivations of these men are? It might help us understand exactly what they're after."
"We can only speculate at this point, ma'am," said Hanner. "Considering that these two were fully authorized FBI agents as recently as this morning, it's anybody's guess."
"I don't think so, chief," said Dave. "They were part of Fuller's operation. They were the ones who tried to chase down Heller."
"They were?" Connie asked. "Hanner, why didn't you mention that?"
"I don't have any proof, Mrs. Morgan," said Hanner. "Only that a pony recognized one of the agents from the video that I haven't seen myself."
"But it could mean that whatever they're doing here, it factors into Fuller's scheme."
"Regardless, it doesn't change the fact that we have a delicate and difficult situation."
"But it means they could be after me personally," said Connie. "Which means they may try to use my daughter to get at me. If I offered to go inside and meet with--"
"Absolutely not," Hanner said.
"I don't like the idea any more than he does, ma'am," said Dave.
"But if--" Connie stopped when her cell phone buzzed. "Hang on, I have to read this, it's from Agent Heller."
Connie turned away. She briefly glanced over the top edge of her phone and at the concerned face of Sam as he stood a short distance away, close enough likely to have overheard the conversation.
The agents received orders concerning you, the text read. They are possibly mentally unstable due to mind magic. Lay low until they're apprehended.
Connie whirled around to face the others, brandishing her phone. "Here's your proof of what they really want!"
Hanner and Dave leaned in to read. Hanner frowned as he drew back. "We may have to consider shoot to kill concerning these perps."
"I don't want it to come down to that," Dave said. "If these two men really are in cahoots with Fuller, this is a chance we can get some evidence against him."
"We can't jeopardize the lives of those children."
Dave nodded. "Agreed. But if they are whacked in the head, they need a shrink, not a jail."
"We don't have that luxury," said Hanner. "We're not going to take them down with friendship and rainbows. Sheriff, you said you wanted to help find a way of getting us inside."
"I still do."
"Then let's focus on that. Mrs. Morgan, we'll do everything we can to protect the lives of everyone in there, your daughter included."
"Thank you, Chief Hanner," said Connie. "That's all I can ask for."
As both Hanner and Dave stepped away, Sam approached her. "I'm really sorry about this. I know that sounds trite, but--"
Connie gave him a wan smile. "It's never easy to come up with what to say to someone in a situation like this."
"I do want to say that I admire you for taking this so calmly."
Connie accepted the compliment at face value. The truth was, she was just very good at hiding how scared she was.
Peach Blossom's heart skipped a beat when she turned a corner and saw the two humans. Despite their apparent calm demeanor, the one furthest from her had his gun out and was constantly glancing back the way they had come.
She briefly held her breath when the one in the lead spotted her. She forced herself to breathe slowly and steadily, putting on her best smile as she trotted forward. "G-good afternoon, gentlemen," she said in her usually bubbly voice that quavered only slightly. "Is there something I can do for you?"
The lead agent took out his badge. "We're with the FBI. We're here looking for a pony child named Christina Morgan."
Peach's smiled faltered slightly, but she recovered quickly. "May I ask why?"
"We need to take her into protective custody for her own safety."
"Oh, my, is there some sort of a threat?"
"This is just a precaution, ma'am."
"Her mother is due to pick her up," Peach said.
Upon hearing this, the second agent stepped up to the first. "That's who we--"
The first waved him silent before speaking to Peach again. "We'll guard her until Mrs. Morgan arrives. Then we can escort the two of them out of the pony sector."
Peach's heart raced. Had she said precisely the wrong thing by mentioning Connie?"
"Lead us to her now," said the first agent.
"Of course," said Peach. "Um, may I have your names?"
"Not right now. Just take us to the child."
Peach managed to keep her smile going long enough to turn around. "Right this way."
"I got a text from Amber Wave, Chief Hanner," said Dave.
"That the mare who's the teacher of pegasus studies at the school?" Midnight asked.
"Yeah. Said they suspected the agents are after Chrissie, and Peach was gonna lead them on a wild goose chase."
"Fuck, she's got guts," Midnight said. "Hope she's still teaching here if I ever sire any foals."
"Is there any way to get a communication to Miss Blossom?" Hanner asked.
"What do you have in mind, chief?" Dave asked.
"You mentioned we could get in quietly from the service entrance. Any way we can get her to lead them there?"
"Amber contacted me on Peach's phone, so she doesn't have it with her."
"Then have Amber go find her!" Midnight said.
"I'm trying to minimize the number of people in harm's way."
"Yeah, but Amber is real quick. She can get into and out of a situation fast. She got her pony name from the way she leaves a wave of air passing over you in her wake when she zooms by." Midnight smirked. "Well, that, and she doesn't seem to like any other color but yellow."
"There's another reason to consider having Amber help," said Dave. "There's a vent cover near the door. It's just about large enough for Midnight to get into."
Midnight's smirk vanished. "Uhhh, just how tight is the space in there?"
"A might."
"I don't speak Texan drawl. Define what a 'might' is."
"You'll have to keep your wings tucked in," Dave explained. "But you should be able to move around enough."
"Um, okay," Midnight said.
"Something the matter?"
"I'm not big on enclosed spaces like that. I mean, I'm not claustrophobic. It's more not being able to use my wings. But if it's going to help catch those bastards, I'll put up with it."
"All right," said Hanner. "Give me Miss Wave's number and I'll call her."
"We should've gotten there by now."
"Just calm down, we'll get this done."
"I'm telling you, she's stalling us."
"She doesn't know what's going on, how could she be stalling us?"
"We've passed four classrooms. Five now! And we're heading towards the stairs."
"John, get a fucking grip. You need to calm down, not like you were out there when you tried to take that shot at the pony cop."
Peach's heart pounded so hard she was sure it would burst out of her chest. The two agents were whispering to one another, and perhaps when Peach was a human she might not have caught most of it. Yet with her pony ears swiveled back, she could hear every word. Despite John being the nervous one, neither agent struck her as particularly calm. Or in their right mind.
"I had to!" John continued, his voice becoming increasingly agitated. "You saw what he could do."
"I didn't want a damn firefight," said the other agent. "I told you that from the beginning."
"We do whatever is necessary. Fuller's counting on us."
"You don't have to tell me that, I know."
"Yeah, you know," John said in a mocking voice. "That's it, I'm stopping this now."
Peach was only a few pony-length's from the stairs when John raced forward and stepped in front of her. "Tell us exactly where that child is. Tell us where you're taking us."
"Um, u-upstairs," Peach stammered.
"Where upstairs?"
"Chrissie's classroom is on the second floor," Peach said, her voice tinged with desperation. "I'm taking you to her, I promise."
"You better be, or you'll be in a lot of trouble for--"
"Oh, Peach, I'm glad I caught you!" came Amber's voice from the other end of the hallway.
Peach bit her lip to suppress a gasp when he saw John's hand fly towards his gun. The other agent frowned and gestured, and John slowly dropped his hand to his side.
Amber flew up to them, smiling broadly. She looked up at the two men. "Oh, thank Luna! I had hoped they'd send some law enforcement back into the building. We're still a bit shaken up by that threat, even though it turned out to be false."
"We need to secure Christina Morgan," John said in a stiff voice. "Right now."
"Oh, Connie will be glad to hear that!" Amber said, her voice even more bubbly than it usually was. "And that makes me glad that I came to find Peach. We moved her to a classroom on this floor near the back of the school."
Peach very nearly pointed out that there were no classrooms that way, mostly just teacher's lounges, offices, and the service entrance. Instead, she caught herself and nodded. "Yes, yes, thank you for telling me. I would've led these nice men on a wild goose chase, and we certainly shouldn't waste their time."
"Why was she moved?" John demanded.
"Ah, to better protect her," Amber said. "When we heard about the threat, we thought she might be a likely target." She hovered alongside Peach. "Well, let's not dally! Let's lead these gentlemen to her."
Peach was grateful for the company, but from the wary looks that the two agents exchanged, she doubted that their situation had improved any. She could only hope this was part of some larger plan.
When Midnight bucked open the vent cover and flew down from the HVAC ductwork near the school's furnace, his heart was racing so badly that he had to pause to let it calm down. He had only half-lied when he had told Dave he didn't have claustrophobia. He had it as a human and had never put it to a test as a pony. He intended to never put it to that test ever again.
"Midnight, you there?" came Dave's drawl over his headset.
"Yeah, gimme a minute," Midnight said in a winded voice.
"Hanner's folks are setting up in the service area. They need you to be their eyes and ears."
"Yeah, I got that. Hang on."
He took to the air, his wings barely making a sound, only the displaced air under them causing some discarded rags to ruffle slightly. His ears swiveled forward as he slowly ascended the stairs. He placed an ear to the door, heard nothing but silence, and carefully let himself into the hall.
No sooner had he closed the door did he hear the distant sound of hoof-steps. He glanced down the hall towards the back of the school. It took a turn to the right before heading to the service area. He wasn't sure how close those agents could be lured, as it was quite obvious there were no more classrooms.
"I hear them coming," Midnight whispered in a barely audible voice.
"Find some cover," Dave said.
Midnight was already looking, and he spotted a storage room a short distance away, though in the direction of the approaching hooves. He could tell now they were about to step into view from another corridor. He didn't have more than seconds.
He raced towards the door, relieved to see that the original lock had been removed and a simple latch mechanism installed that was easier for pony hooves to manipulate. For once he was grateful for the pony tendency not to lock every single door just for the sake of locking it.
He opened the door and ducked inside. The darkness that greeted him when he closed the door was welcome and eased the headache he was developing from eyestrain despite the sunglasses. He took them off so his night vision would not be impeded.
"Look, just where are you taking us?" Midnight heard one of the agents say in a hostile voice.
"To Christina like you wanted me to," he heard Peach's voice reply.
"Fuck," Midnight whispered. "Just confirmed, they're after Chrissie."
"There's no classrooms down here, you stupid pony!"
"Calm down," the other agent said.
"You keep saying that, and I'm getting tired of it!"
They were still getting closer, but Midnight doubted it would not be for long. "They're not buying it," Midnight whispered.
"Where are they?" Dave asked.
"Maybe forty feet from the bend. Hallway's kinda tight."
"Who's with them?"
"Peach Blossom."
"Gentlemen, please, we're almost there," came another female voice.
"And another mare," said Midnight. He sniffed and detected a whiff of oil sometimes used when preening pegasus feathers. "A pegasus."
"Likely Amber Wave."
Midnight heard a scramble of feet, and the hoof-steps stopped just outside the storage room door.
He heard a gasp, maybe from Peach, then the voice of the more agitated agent. "Stop this shit right now. You have five seconds to tell us exactly where she is!"
He heard a whimper. He risked a glance through the hole where the lock had been. He saw a terrified Peach and a gun aimed right for her head.
"Please, it's just a little further, we--" Amber started.
"Four," the agent said.
"John, wait," the other agent said.
"Three."
Peach whimpered.
"Guys, its now or never!" Midnight said.
"Two."
Peach broke down into tears.
The agent's declaration of "one" was drowned out by a burst of activity further down the hall. The agent whipped his gun in that direction just as a burst of loud voices made Midnight's sensitive ears wing.
"FREEZE, POLICE! DROP THE GUNS. DROP THE GUNS NOW!"
They didn't.
Midnight cringed when the first shots and screams rang out in the hallway.
Despite all hell breaking loose around her, Peach felt as if time had simply stopped. She still could see the gun pointed at her, despite it having swing away.
She felt something splash against her face and fur. She wiped her face with a hoof, and it came back stained with blood. Only then was she aware of the limp mass of yellow feather, fur, and hair lying motionless on the floor.
Peach was so utterly shocked, it seemed like she was caught in a single moment that would not stop. She was only vaguely aware of a man falling to the floor, or of the shouts of humans and ponies.
Only when more shots sent plaster exploding from the walls did she finally bolt.
She galloped blindly, doors blurring past her. She wanted to cry for her friend, but her retreat left her no energy to spare. The shouts and noise faded into the distance behind her.
A set of running human feet did not.
Peach forced herself to become aware of her surroundings, and she turned down a corridor of empty classrooms. As scared as she was for herself, she had to think of the foals.
She managed to keep ahead of the running feet, but she couldn't keep on forever. She finally stopped at the door to one of the classrooms and ducked inside.
She hid under the teacher's desk, rolling herself up to be as small as possible. She tried to keep quiet, but she was panting from the exertion and anxiety, and her heart would not stop hammering. When she heard the feet slow and step more cautiously, she tried to force her breath to a more sedate rhythm with little success.
The feet stopped outside the classroom, and Peach's breathing became the loudest thing in the universe. The door opened, and she bit her lip to suppress a whimper when she recognized the shoes of the man who entered. It comforted her very little when she saw it was not John but the other, less agitated agent.
The man closed the door behind him. "I know you're in here."
Peach swallowed, trembling hard.
"Come out now," the man said in a maddeningly calm voice. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Peach's stomach suddenly twisted as she picked up the scent of fresh human blood. Some drops of it lay on the floor where the agent had entered.
"You need to come out!" said the agent. "Don't make me do this the hard way, please!"
Peach realized she had little choice. If she could keep him busy here, he wouldn't harm the foals. She had to put her life at stake for them.
The man jerked towards her at the first sound of a hoof clop. Peach emerged, her pupils shrinking as she beheld the agent. His left shoulder was a ragged mess of torn flesh and blood.
"Y-you're injured," Peach said.
"Never mind that," the agent said, his gun drawn. "You need to help me."
"I'm not a unicorn, I can't do spells that can heal--"
"I didn't mean that," the agent said. "You need to help me do what I came here to do."
Peach let out a ragged breath. "I won't take you to Christina. You can threaten me all you want, you can tell me you're going to k-kill me, and I still won't do it."
Tears flooded her eyes at the word "kill."
"She's just a means to an end," said the agent. "We're here for Mrs. Morgan."
Peach stared. "What?"
"She's the one Fuller wants. She's the one causing everything to fall apart."
"I-I don't understand. You--"
She cut herself off when the gun was leveled at her.
"I didn't want it to go down like this," the agent said. "John was too hot-headed from the start. He ... he snapped. I don't know why. There's a lot I don't understand."
Peach's tears slowed at the almost pleading tone to the man's voice.
"I just know I have to do this. Fuller is counting on us. On me, now."
Peach frowned. "My friend might be dead because of all this! Is that what Fuller wanted?"
"I don't know."
Peach blinked. That was not the response she was expecting.
"I just know that Mrs. Morgan needs to be stopped. She needs to stop messing up Mr. Fuller's plans. You don't understand just how important those plans are!"
Peach backed up a step.
"If you were there, you'd understand," the man said. "Everything Mr. Fuller said made so much sense. I wasn't sure at the time, and even now there are things I don't get, but it doesn't matter."
Peach backed up again, but the man stepped forward, keeping his gun on her.
"I don't want to kill anyone. John did, but not me. But maybe that's wrong. Maybe I need to be more willing to kill. Maybe that's what Mr. Fuller wants of me."
Peach's ears pricked. More footsteps out in the hall.
The man heard it as well. "Sit down."
Peach stared. "But I--"
"I said sit!"
Peach fell to her haunches.
"Just keep sitting there," the man said, circling around her.
Peach heard a door fly open just down the hall, then another. The police were searching room to room.
The man crouched beside her. Peach whimpered when she felt the gun barrel pressed to her head just under her left ear.
The door flew open. Two police officers stepped inside, guns drawn. The moment they saw the situation, they lifted their guns. "Come on, don't do this," said one of the officers. "Lower your weapon, and let's get that shoulder of yours treated."
"Not until I get what I want," the man said.
"What do you want?"
"Constance Morgan."
The two officers exchanged a look.
"Please bring her to me," the man said. "And this little pony will live."
For the first time in a long while, Midnight wanted to cry.
Paramedics had already taken away both the human and Amber. The human had already been pronounced dead, and it had not looked good for the pegasus. As far as Midnight could tell, Amber had been shot when she had tried to fly in the face of one of the agents to prevent him from taking a shot at the officers.
Dave lay a fore-hoof on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Midnight."
"It's not like I really knew her all that well," Midnight protested. "I just ... shit ... maybe if I had come out of that closet and bucked that asshole's face in--!"
"Then they'd be carrying you out on a stretcher as well."
"Better me than her."
"Stop it," said Dave. "It's never better who dies in a situation like this."
"And how the fuck would you know?" Midnight snapped.
Dave looked uncertain for a moment. "I know I haven't talked much about my background."
"Yeah, you keep secrets better than some night ponies."
"I was a cop," said Dave. "In the Dallas and Fort Worth area."
Midnight nodded. "Yeah, figured from your voice you were from Texas."
"My partner and an innocent bystander were killed right in front of me."
Midnight blinked. "Really? And now you just witnessed ... Jesus Christ, dude, I'm sorry."
"Not half as much as I was at the time," said Dave. "Thought it was my fault. Gave up being a cop. Wandered over the country doing odd jobs. Wound up in Denver right before ETS hit."
"What made you decide to go back to being a cop?"
"Because I thought of this as a way to be a cop without being a cop," said Dave. "What kind of trouble would I see in a community of friendly ponies?"
Midnight frowned. "It took humans to mess things up."
Dave shook his head. "Don't go there. That's not right, and you know it. I saw plenty of problems without the need for humans stirring the pot. I'm looking at one of them right now. Or have you forgotten how many times I called you out for your aggressive behavior?"
"I've done better since then," Midnight said.
"Yes, you have," Dave said in a soft voice. "I have to thank you for that."
"Uh, why?"
"Because it showed I made a difference. I didn't get that sense back in Dallas."
"That's all I ever want to do, too," Midnight said. "I want to make a difference. That's why I hate it when things like this happen!"
Before Dave could respond, Chief Hanner stepped up to them. "We found the other perp, but he's holding Peach Blossom hostage. She managed to lead him away from the occupied classrooms, so we're evacuating the rest of the school."
Midnight flared his wings. "Dammit, I don't want to see another pony die!"
"What does he want?" Dave asked.
"He wants Mrs. Morgan. He claims he's supposed to arrest her."
"Sounds like the dude has some screws loose," said Midnight.
"It's obvious the man is mentally unstable," said Hanner. "We're calling in some backup. We need a hostage negotiation team in here now."
"Chief, Sheriff Dave was filling me in earlier on some of the stuff that's been going down," Midnight said. "If this guy's been affected by mind magic that's gone screwy -- especially anything resembling night pony mind magic -- negotiation is not gonna work."
"What would you have us do?" Hanner said.
"You need to psyche him out somehow. Make him think he'll get what he wants."
"The only thing that will satisfy him will be Mrs. Morgan herself."
"Then float that idea with her."
Hanner frowned. "You cannot be serious."
Dave arched an eyebrow. "Midnight, you've come up with some hare-brained schemes before, but this takes the cake."
Midnight raised his fore-hooves. "Look, mind magic is not like ordinary brainwashing. You don't give him what he wants, Peach is as good as dead."
Hanner let out a sigh through his nose. "I'll explain the situation to Mrs. Morgan, but I'll recommend she doesn't even consider doing this."
Connie knew that as the situation wore on, it would capture the interest of a news media already on alert that something interesting would be happening that day. She had managed to remain out of the limelight for the time being, but when she saw reporters from CNN show up, she realized this was becoming far bigger news that anyone had realized.
She decided this was as good a time as any to put another wrinkle in Fuller's plans.
As soon as she left the police perimeter, a local reporter spotted her and pointed, and soon he and others were running over to her. The CNN group soon followed.
"Mrs. Morgan!" cried the reporter in the lead. "Mrs. Morgan, would you care to comment on this incident?"
"Mrs. Morgan, is it true that the report of a gunman at the school was thought to be a hoax at first?" shouted another,
"Mrs. Morgan! There was a report that the FBI was doing covert activities in this area earlier today. Do you know anything about it?"
"Mrs. Morgan, does any of this have to do with the reports of the fugitive Partial?"
Connie held up her hands. "Please, I don't have time for questions right now. Let me make a statement, and I will hold a press conference later once I know more about the situation."
By then, several camera operators had arrived, and all eyes were on her.
Connie lowered her hands. She had to be careful what she said. She couldn't say anything that in any way would jeopardize a potential case against Fuller. "My office is involved in a very sensitive matter. We're working closely with local and federal law enforcement into investigating potentially illegal procedures in an incident of magic use that may be related to Village Center."
"Procedures by whom, Mrs. Morgan?" a reported said.
"Pony or human magic, Mrs. Morgan?" asked another.
"Is the situation at the school related to it as well, Mrs. Morgan?" asked a third.
"Please, as I said, no questions," said Connie. "That's really all I have right now."
"Mrs. Morgan, wait!" another voice cried, and a unicorn mare wove her way around the sea of human legs, a hat on her head identifying her as from the Denver Pony Chronicle. "What about rumors circulating in the pony community that there's a video showing law enforcement jeopardizing the public safety?"
Wow, that got around fast, Connie thought. "I'm afraid I cannot comment on an ongoing investigation, including any evidence that may be involved."
"So you're saying there is an investigation and that there is evidence of improper conduct?"
"I'm sorry, but I can't comment further. Thank you for your patience."
They continued shouting questions at her as she approached the perimeter again, where Chief Hanner was waiting for her. "Ma'am, we have a new situation."
"I saw some paramedics going around the back of the building," said Connie. "Then I saw the foals were being evacuated."
"We had some shots fired, and now we have a hostage situation."
"Who's being held?"
"Peach Blossom."
Connie's eyes widened. "Christina's teacher?"
"Christina is accounted for. Peach kept the perps far from her and the other foals."
"Is there anything I can do?"
Connie had not expected there was, but she felt obliged to ask the question. She was thus surprised at his answer. "Well, ma'am, that depends ..."
Peach had managed to quell her panic. It helped that the barrel of the gun was no longer pressed to her head. The man's breathing had become more labored, and she was actually concerned for him. Yet she didn't dare move her head even to look at him for fear it would be taken the wrong way.
"You've lost a lot of blood," one of the police officers at the door said.
"I'm fine," said the man in a weaker voice than earlier.
"You're looking rather pale."
"I can hold out."
"And if you can't?"
Peach flinched when she felt the gun barrel poke her head briefly. "Then she may have to go down with me if that happens."
Peach had hoped that the man would simply fade away enough to no longer be a threat. As much as she could not wish ill of anyone, she didn't want to die, not when she finally had her life the way she wanted it. Like a lot of her fellow ponies, she felt that the transformation was the best thing that had ever happened to her.
She tried not to let her thoughts drift towards Amber. The pegasus had only just the other day told her how much she enjoyed what she was doing, that she faced each day with an enthusiasm she had never experienced before.
Peach's ears swiveled as she heard voices in the hall. Her eyes widened when one of them sounded like Connie. She couldn't have possibly agreed to this man's demands!
Yet now Connie herself appeared at the door, and all Peach could do was stare. Connie gave her a sympathetic look before turning her attention towards the injured agent. "I'm told you were looking for me," she said in a voice exuding a sense of calm that astounded Peach.
"Are you Constance Morgan?" the agent asked.
"Yes, I am."
"Prove it. Throw your driver's license on the floor."
Connie reached into her pocket and pulled out her wallet. She tugged out her ID card and tossed it before the man.
The man kept his eyes trained on Connie and the police, his gun on Peach, as he reached for the ID. He glanced at it and nodded. "All right." He stood and pointed the gun at Connie instead. "Peach, you can go."
Peach was so stunned by this turn of events that she remained in place, at least until a police officer stepped forward and gestured urgently at her. As if thinking this was a trick, Peach stood only slowly and trotted towards the door. Only once she was past the threshold did she take off into a gallop.
Peach wove around the human officers who cautioned her to slow down. She stopped only when she saw another pony, barely taking the time to recognize who it was before throwing her forelegs around them in a tight, trembling hug.
She felt both forelegs and wings close around her. "Hey, Peach, it's all right," she heard Midnight Star say. "You're safe now."
Peach swallowed and closed her eyes, still trembling.
"You did good, Peach. You protected the foals. You're a freaking hero."
"J-just tell me," Peach said in a quavering voice. "Is Amber okay?"
"Um ... maybe we shouldn't talk about this now."
Peach drew back from the embrace, her eyes glistening. She wanted to ask the question again, but one look at Midnight's face had already given her the answer. The tears had already started to flow even before Midnight spoke.
"I'm sorry, Peach. She didn't make it."
Peach sniffled once, then let out a wail as she hugged Midnight again.
It had taken all her willpower to remain calm when the agent pointed the gun at her, especially considering how shaky he appeared. His skin was pale, his eyes sunken. The wound on his shoulder continued to bleed, his shirt having become so saturated that drops now rolled freely.
"Constance Morgan," the agent said in a slightly trembling voice. "You're under arrest for harboring a fugitive and conspiracy to interfere with federal law enforcement. You have the right to remain silent--"
"I give up that right now," Connie said.
The agent looked confused. She had been briefed by Midnight Star concerning dealing with the potential mind magic that was addling this man's mind. She had to keep him enough off balance so that the police would have an opportunity to take him down.
He had warned her this was a double-edged sword. He could become unhinged enough that he would become a greater threat long enough to hurt someone.
"All right," said the agent. "You want to make a statement?"
"You're name is Greg, right?"
The man paused, then nodded.
"Can you tell me why you're doing this, Greg?"
"Because it's what Mr. Fuller wants. He needs you out of the way."
Connie was sure now that Greg's mental health was deteriorating rapidly. Why else was he openly admitting what his superior was doing?
"And I'm not the one who's supposed to be answering questions," said Greg. "You're to come along with me, so you can't interfere any more."
"Is that your reason for going after Mr. Heller?" Connie asked. "To make sure he couldn't interfere?"
"I didn't want to do that, but we had to! He was going to ruin everything."
"Ruin what?"
Greg let out a ragged breath and staggered. "Ruin his plans to make this world safe from pony magic. Don't you understand that everything else is secondary to that? We're fighting for the world. For humanity."
"Is that what Fuller believes?" Connie asked.
"Yes," Greg said. "It's the truth."
"Even though it made you do this?"
Greg opened his mouth as if to speak but said nothing.
"You fired on a fellow agent," Connie continued. "You threatened the lives of innocent people."
Greg swallowed, his gun dipping slightly.
"Greg, someone died today because of this."
"John wanted to kill, not me!" Greg exploded.
"But you were willing to kill Peach Blossom."
"I didn't."
"Only because I showed up."
"No, I'm not like that!" Greg shouted. "I never killed! Look up my record, that proves it!"
"Don't you see what's happening?" Connie said. "Something has made you do all these things you never would've done before."
Greg's eyes glistened. He swayed.
"You're not well," said Connie. "You're not acting in your own right mind."
Greg's eyes widened. "You're saying ... you're saying, I'm someone else, right?"
Connie hesitated. "Well, something like that. I meant--"
"That's it," Greg said. "That's what I couldn't figure out. That's what doesn't make any sense. Am I really me anymore? Or did I really give my all for Mr. Fuller? Hah! Yes! I gave him my sanity, too!" He laughed and backed away from Connie.
One of the police officers stepped towards him. "Please, Greg, let us help you. You're not thinking straight."
Greg looked as if he didn't hear the officer, his eyes becoming unfocused as he stared off into the distance. "Oh, this is going to look so good on my record. Agent Greg Stanley, the man who gave up his own mind for the Bureau. The man who's not himself." He gave the officer a hollow look. "But I'm not here to receive the accolades, am I? Someone else is here. Someone who would kill. I can't let him get away."
He raised the gun towards his head.
"Greg, don't do this!" the officer shouted.
Greg pressed the barrel of the gun to his temple even as his legs began to give out. "I don't think he's going to come along quietly." He sank to his knees. "Guess I h-have to kill after .."
The hand holding the gun slipped.
"GET DOWN!" the officer screamed.
Connie had already thrown herself to the floor by the first word, and she flinched hard when the thunder of a gunshot reverberated through the room. She braced herself for the worst, but all she heard was soft whimpering and crying.
"Get the paramedic!" an officer shouted. "The shot missed, but he's already lost a lot of blood from his shoulder!"
"I'm sorry," Greg whimpered as he sat slumped against the wall, the gun no longer in his hand. "I'm so sorry. I don't know who that was. I don't know who I am. I'm so sorry."
A rush of wing sounded, and Midnight appeared in the hall. "What's happened?! I heard a gunshot! Is Mrs. Morgan--?!"
Connie stood and stepped out of the room. "I'm okay."
"Well, physically, yeah," Midnight said. "But you look like you just saw a ghost."
Connie let out a ragged sigh and looked back at the fallen man. "In a way, I just did."