Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A familiar scene plays out to an unseen observer watching over the locked chain-link fence belonging to Tundratown Limousine Services, LLC.

Blowing softly on his paws to keep them warm, the mammal watches as a rabbit and fox duo step out of a three-wheeled ZPD parking enforcement cart just outside the fence. Pushing off the brick edifice where he has been standing watch, he steadily makes his way over to the two small mammals across the street. Unconcernedly, he watches the first rabbit cop touch the heavy-duty padlock in disgust before berating the fox in a green Pawaiian shirt. As the fox moves a half-step to face towards his interrogator, our observer sees the half-lidded emerald eyes and triangular red ears of one Nicholas Piberius Wilde. Pausing mid-step, our observer moves back deeper into shadow as the fox’s piercing gaze sweeps over his position for a brief glimpse before focusing once more on the grey rabbit.

Letting out a noiseless sigh of relief, our observer ducks into a shadowed alcove and brings out a prepaid phone from inside his coat pocket. Quickly opening the contacts and selecting the only number available, our observer listens for any further comments from the small mammal duo now arguing over a novelty item in the rabbit’s left paw. Pricking up his ears for any pertinent information, our observer almost launches the phone into the air when a gruff voice answers the other end with a snapped-out “Что?!” [What?].

“Signore, il mammifero che stavi cercando? È qui nella tua casa di limousine. Chi puoi inviare?” the observer answered in clipped, hushed tones so the rabbit would not overhear. [Sir, the mammal you have been looking for? He is here at your limo place. Who can you send?]

“Kevin e Raymond sono nelle vicinanze. Non innestare!” the voice answered before the line cut. [Kevin and Raymond are close by. Do not engage!]

“Understood” the observer answered in English before placing his paws on the burner phone and cracking the poor plastic device in half. Dropping one half into a storm drain, the observer held onto the second half as his back-up would be here soon.

Fortunately, the two mammals under observation were caught up in their argument and the rabbit had poor situational awareness. The fox had sharper senses, but had been out of the game for quite some time.

=====================================================================================

“So, since you are sans warrant, how do you suppose we get inside?” Wilde asked in that calm manner he was known for during his decade-long stay on the streets.

“You want the pen? Fine!” Hopps cried out in exasperation as she threw the pen over the chain-link fence into a patch of snow on the other side.

Wilde huffed out a breath. “First off,” he began as he pointed a clawed digit at the rabbit in blue, “you are a very sore loser. Second, you throw like a bunny”. With his next breath, he prepared to climb the fence. Putting first his right manual paw, then left pedal paw into gaps in the fence; he deftly scaled the barrier and continued talking as he made his way over. “Sorry, Officer Fluff! I wish I could have helped more” he sarcastically informed the rabbit below him as he leapt onto the soft snow.

As he landed on the snowbank, he reared up in surprise as he met the smug face of the rabbit pointing the novelty pen in his face. “You don’t need a warrant if you have probable cause. And, I just saw a shifty lowlife climbing the fence” Hopps replied with an unimpressed look plastered on. The look quickly changed to an enthusiastic smile as she led the way forward, “So, you’re helping plenty! Come on!”.

=====================================================================================

Our observer waited in his position until he heard the soft shuffles of a pair of polar bears as they rounded the corner where he stayed hidden in shadow.

Gauging that the small mammal duo were far enough inside to not see him, he stepped out of his hiding spot into the path of two male polar bears. One wore a coat and the other a tracksuit with a gold chain around his neck.

“Kevin. Raymond” the observer nodded a greeting at the two mob enforcers, who respectfully bowed their white furred heads at the observer.

“Wilde has been found, young Master?” the one in the suit, Kevin, quietly and respectfully asked the observer. Raymond stayed silent, preferring to let his brother engage while he checked the surroundings for eavesdroppers.

“Yes. He is inside the limo yard with the token bunny” the observer replied in a soft voice as he passed over a broken prepaid phone half to the waiting paw of Raymond, who immediately pocketed the device. Both bears had a dark look briefly pass over their faces at the mere supposition that Wilde was working with the fuzz, before they remembered who stood before them.

“Young Master, your invitation to Miss Francesca Big’s wedding and reception. It is a black tie affair” Kevin spoke softly as he pulled out an ivory envelope with gold leaf from his inner coat pocket and presented it to the waiting observer, who reverently received it with both paws.

“I thought I was also persona non grata with La Famiglia?” the observer asked Kevin as he turned the envelope over to see it personally addressed to him.

Raymond tugged on his brother’s right arm, seeing that the duo had disappeared from our sight and anxious to make an impression on the rabbit.

“Koslov changed his mind, young Master. Signore Big was adamant that you had his approval all along” Kevin nervously stated as he too lost sight of the rabbit and fox duo.

“Very well. I will be at the manor promptly. Deal with the two as you see fit” the observer replied as he unconsciously brushed the brass implement on his belt through his jacket.

“Of course, sir. Come brother. We have mammals to crush” Kevin nodded at the observer, before addressing his brother in a firmer manner. Raymond gave an awkward bow before following his brother to the locked gates of the limousine service.

The observer continued to walk away from the scene, turning over the sealed ivory envelope with a heavy heart. Opening his puffy winter jacket, he gazed down at the shiny badge on his belt and the motto stencilled on it: Integrity, Honour, Bravery.  Moving towards an unlocked car half-sheltered from the snow by an awning, the observer meticulously checked underneath for any listening devices planted while he stood watch. Finding none, and with not a mammal in sight, the observer slid into the four-door burgundy Audi Quattro and closed the door. Placing his key fob in the central console, the observer started the car and was gratified that he did not immediately join St. Peter at the Pearly Gates.

Turning on the heat in the car, he pulled away from the curb and made his way down a familiar path. Looking in the rear-view after a legal left turn towards Snowdrift Road, he noted that his persistent chase car was once again behind him. The licence plate never changed, and he had already input it once before into the computer system.

The monochrome car behind him with racing stripes belonged to ZPD after all.

For all its attempts at disguise, the V-8 powered monster of a Shelby Cobra was just another undercover ZPD cruiser without any of the visible markings. As he continued to drive to his legal address, he noted that his watchers were two wolves this time. Most likely the Wolford siblings, Anthony and Frank, from Precinct One.

It felt like it was only yesterday that he was thrown out on his ear as emotions he had kept long buried struggled to reach the surface.

Chapter Text

Flashback

August 3, 1994

1200 Snowcastle Way, Tundratown District

“AND STAY OUT!” as the solid double doors slammed shut behind him.

He had been found out and given just sixty minutes to depart the manor grounds before the hounds would be unleashed. Already battered and bruised from being worked over by the close-in security mammals of Antonio and Grandmama Big, his sixty minutes grace had been whittled down to half that.

But, his hell was not over.

For arrayed in front of him on the snowy lawn were the numerous guards and employees of the Big manor, all of them were armed to the teeth.

None of them took betrayal lightly.

And he had betrayed La Famiglia by applying to the Zootopia Police Academy. He had not been around when his acceptance letter to the academy was intercepted by “shifty confox” who did not hesitate to further ingratiate himself into the Mob’s good graces by exposing him.

To his immense surprise, he was immediately pulled off Francesca’s protection detail and shipped back post-haste to face the music.

Upon arrival, he was not given a chance to explain nor defend himself. His snout met the massive white fist of his uncle Koslov and the resulting impact dazed him. As he blinked away the dizziness, another fist came flying in and sent him reeling from the second impact. Before a third could land, his training kicked in and he tackled the offending bear. Raking the mammal with his claws, he was pulled off by another guard and thrown to the side. Landing on his paws, he charged his attackers with claws bared. He did not land a single hit as he was forced onto the defensive by the close-in circle. Blows began to rain on him from every direction and it took all he had just to keep up.  

He was not allowed time to breathe as more mammals joined the fray and it was only Grandmama Big’s shrill voice crying out that the beating stopped.

A black duffel bag with clothes and some cash was dropped at his gasping form as he fought to catch his breath. His uniform suit was now in tatters, and he could feel the swelling on his face from the hits he took.

“Normally for crimes against La Famiglia, the punishment is death. Because of your loyalty and professionalism, we pronounce a different sentence: Exile. Know that all doors that were once open are now closed to you. The bag in front of you holds the last connection with us. Once you accept it, your ties with us formally sever and we go back to being outsiders” the shrew matriarch informed the gathered mammals as they were only just able to contain their unbridled rage at my betrayal.

“*hiss* I accept the generous offer from The Family” I formally intoned as I grasped the handles of the gym bag, shakily standing up from my foetal position on the stained carpet of the main dining hall.

“For what its worth” I heard Heir Antonio announce into his microphone as Koslov grabbed me by the back of my neck and carried me out, “I am sorry to see you go, my friend”.

“Dovrei ucciderti subito, Ivan. Vivete solo della buona volontà della matriarca” Koslov whispered harshly into my ear as I was as limp as a rag doll. [I should kill you right now, Ivan. You live only by the matriarch's good will.]

“Then finish it” I replied in English, knowing that killing me while still under the grace period would merit excommunication for any party who participated.

“RRRrrr. Don’t test me” my uncle replied as the double doors to the outside foyer opened. Once there was enough space, I was hurled out onto the snow-covered front porch.

“AND STAY OUT!” as the solid double doors slammed shut behind me.

I now faced the second-line of mammals.

Those who could only advance by taking out the competition.

In this case, me.

Steeling myself for another bout, I assumed a dubious fighting stance only for the mammals to part as I took a pained step forward. Not wishing to test my good fortune, I slowly moved through the corridor created by their movement and I noticed quite a few doff their caps as if in mourning.

Glancing back at the house, my eyes met the gaze of a furious-looking bear holding someone in their paw.   

I understood immediately and quickly moved through the sea towards the waiting car outside the open wrought-iron gates.

I did not relax until I had sat down in the rear seat of the white limousine with silver trim. Letting out a pained grunt as my injured back contacted the leather seat, I met the green eyes of a panther and slowly nodded my head for him to drive.

 Anywhere out of Tundra would be great.

=====================================================================================

I woke up in a hospital bed at Savannah Central General Hospital.

Slowly dozing off in the chair opposite me was a polar bear in ZPD blue. I could read his name plate as Snarlov and knew that this was my uncle’s estranged cousin. Reaching up for the call button, I was aghast that I had been cuffed to the bed and could only make noise as I tried to move. I began to panic when I looked down and saw the oxygen mask wrapped on my snout. My frantic movements may have woken the sleeping bear who immediately opened the door and shouted for a nurse to come quickly.

As I hyperventilated, my vision darkened and I could barely make out a mammal in white rush in. A short pain in my side and I blacked out once again.

The next time I woke was in the FBI safehouse on Morris Street, Washington DC. Conveniently located a mere two blocks away from the main Federal building.

“Glad to see you’re finally awake, Mister Snobear” a female voice entered my hearing range as I kept my eyes shut and breathing even.

“We do not mean you any harm, Mister Snobear” the voice continued as I willed my breaths to come out even. “You can stop pretending to fake sleep” the voice tried saying it in a straight tone and ultimately failing as a chortle sounded.

“Jack, stop the recording. I can’t say it with a straight face” the voice informed someone named ‘Jack’ as I reluctantly opened my eyes to a semi-dark room with the curtains drawn shut. The room and its sole occupant was painted a grey-green in my nightvision.  

“Where am I?” I asked my interrogator, an albino snow fox wearing a striped pant suit. I could see the bulge in her jacket pocket and deduced correctly that I was in federal custody.

“I do apologise old boy” a male voice with exaggerated twang entered the conversation and turned the lights in the room way up, momentarily blinding both I and the arctic fox.

Blinking the spots away from my vision, I could see the snow fox rubbing her eyes with both her paws as she scowled at the perpetrator of such an atrocity against nocturnal mammals. Her scowl was a yard off as she was scowling at a pretty painting of a field of pansies instead of a striped hare (rabbit?) languidly stretched out on the recliner in the hotel room.

“You seem to have me at a disadvantage” I wanted to say, before my dry throat made me cough. What I instead said was “Youse eem me *koff* *koff*”.

“Here” the vixen pushed a sealed water bottle into my paws and took one for herself off the tray in the minimalist room. The medium-mammal bottle looked comically small in my paws, but I twisted the cap off and took a refreshing swig of water. As the cool liquid wet my parched hroat, my memories came flooding back and tears pooled in my eyes.

“It is done” I whispered to no one, not even seeing the federal agents take out a recorder and catalogue whatever I said.

“By my acceptance of the bag and its contents, my life in the family is over. I am left with naught but the clothes inside, some cash, and only my first name. I am now Ivan No-Name” I said bitterly as I set the bottle aside, the water tasting like ash on my tongue as I closed my eyes.

I did not notice the two feds look at each other and have a silent communication.

I did not notice anything for the next four days as numerous officials came and went.

All asking the same question: Who are you?

(The following have been parsed from the copious notes that numerous federal agents took as they rotated in to witness a mammal who had all but given up.)

I stayed in the bed for four days, neither eating nor drinking.

All I wanted was to die as I gazed unseeingly at the bright paisley wall. I found out later that my refusal to eat or drink had led to me being intravenously fed. To the outside eye, I had given up and whatever method they would use to pump information out of me would ultimately fail as I did not respond at all.

The first signs of intelligent life from me came on the fifth day of my self-imposed abstinence.

Either out of irritation or stupidity, one of the agents observing me brought out a knife and made as if to slice me across my chest.

Even dulled by hunger and thirst, my body reacted instantly. Pushing the arm holding the knife to one side, my unengaged paw then moved of its own volition and punched the air out of the agent’s lungs. As the agent lay gasping for breath on the carpeted floor, it took twenty agents to hold me back from killing her as I roared in frustration and pain. Struggling with all my might against the agents’ hold, a nurse had been called in to sedate me. The hypodermic had barely pierced my double coat before my body violently reacted and managed to toss one of the agents, a brown bear twice my weight, flat onto the ground and I broke through the drywall into the adjoining corridor; shedding agents as they slowly lost their grips on me.

Alarms had begun to ring throughout the facility as the guard force was mustered in case I made it to the gates and into the city beyond. They had orders to bring me back into holding using non-lethals only. The head of the FBI detachment assigned to contain me had broken the landline phone he was holding when he received the order, not believing that bear spray, tranquilisers, and tasers would stop a mammal possessed. He “had argued for the use of lethal weaponry and was shut down by the FBI Director and the Justice Secretary, who wanted to pick my mind for details of my life”. (Excerpt from FBI Incident Report No. 1555-48 on former Special Agent {Inmate} Matthew Saunders)

As the FBI Hostage Rescue Team Charlie, and two Marine platoons from the nearby Bennett Field, stood ready in an enfilade position; snipers watched the courtyard as I finished my destructive exit from the reception area. Fingers held steady on the triggers as everyone took a breath as I roared out in defiance.

.

.

Before collapsing onto the grassy lawn like a puppet with its strings cut.  

Chapter Text

The next time I woke up fully after the incident, a lion medic was shining a light into my eyes to check for a concussion.

My slurry speech of “Wass’ gon’ on, doc?” caught his attention and he immediately backed away from me with a squeak of surprise. Which made me guffaw with irrational laughter as his behaviour was more apt for a mouse.

“Come. I shall not hurt you” I intoned in my best Father Christmas voice as I attempted to sit up.

The brusque voice “My mammals feel differently” as a plaster leg cast hove into view. The owner of the cast limb entered my field of vision and I was at a loss when my gaze travelled up the leg to the assortment of bandages and gauze pads on the mammal’s torso.

“Did I do that?” I asked sheepishly as I tried to rub the back of my head, only for the clatter of pawcuffs stopping me from doing so.

“That and more” another mammal in a grey suit, red tie, and wearing a pin with the Department of Justice (DOJ) seal, dryly remarked as he took a seat beside my supine form on another gurney. I turned my head to look at this mammal fully and met a scarred wolf wearing an eyepatch over his left eye. As I observed him and the way he carried himself, it reminded me of military officers who had been in the thick of combat and promoted to fill battlefield losses.

“Mister Snobear” the scarred wolf began, before I interrupted him with a harsh “That’s not my name”. “Not anymore” I whispered to myself as my voice dropped.

“I can’t really call you Mister John Deere as you don’t look like a deer buck. Not enough antlers” the scarred wolf commented, body half-facing me.

“Why are you here sir?” I asked tiredly, my body aching everywhere for some reason. (I had no idea that my body had attempted to escape federal custody. Almost succeeded too)

“I’m here to offer you a job” the scarred wolf replied as he kept his amber gaze fixed on me. His right ear floppy from probable nerve damage and his left ear standing ramrod straight.

“All due respect sir. I’m damaged goods” I replied to the wolf who only chuckled.

“So am I” was his response as he leaned over and unlocked my right wrist from the cuffs holding me down.

“Why remove one set?” I asked, bewildered by the sudden show of power. My left was still cuffed after all. 

“Call it a sign of trust from me” the wolf answered as he stood up from the folding lawn chair I did not notice was there. “My card” he then inserted a business card into my open right paw and pushed my limb towards my face. I gamely did as he wanted and gasped as the name became visible on the bone white card.

Looking towards the wolf, as if asking for permission, he only gave one swift nod to read it out.

I read the wolf’s name and title aloud, “Secretary Nicholas Joseph Furie, Department of Justice”. The smile on the wolf’s muzzle looked wrong somehow with the missing eye. It looked positively…sinister…

I smiled on reflex, showing my sharp carnassials as well.

“Kid” Secretary Fury informed me playfully, or as playful as a wolf could get when the expression seems to be all wrong, “tell me what you want and its yours”

I thought about it and knew a simple want. When I broached the topic to Secretary Furie, the wolf only howled with laughter.

“Kid” he growled out, “many mammals demand the moon most of the time when given an almost clean slate. You want to enter the ZPA? I’ll do you one better. You get to join next year’s intake into the FBI Academy. I’ll throw in a brand-new life and background for you” he finished his sales pitch.

“But…you make any less than salutatorian and I ship you off to the hottest embassy posting we got” Secretary Furie informed me.

“Of course Mister Secretary. I shall do my utmost” I intoned formally.

“Adams, get him out of there and into rehab. Right now, his old life is considered higher ranked than Top Secret” the scarred wolf barked out an order to another agent, this one a water buffalo, who simply used a pair of trauma shears and cut me out of the restraining straps, allowing me to sit up and undo the rest of the restraints.

“Here kid, you’ll need this” Secretary Furie dropped a pawcuff key into my lap as the left cuff stumped me. I had an idea, but I had only heard about it from whispers of the second-rank mammals caught by the ZPD. Pushing out a claw from my index finger, I placed the tip into the keyhole of the cuff and wriggled it a bit. One satisfying click later and the cuffs came off.

“BAHAHAHAHA!” Secretary Furie guffawed as I undid the cuffs. “You’ll go far when we do the SERE course”.

“Sear course? Like cooking a steak?” I asked, as my stomach rumbled with hunger for, what felt like, the first time in days.

“You will hate me when you go through SERE” the scarred wolf chuckled as Special Agent Adams helped me to my paws, a fresh change of clothes ready in his hooves.

=====================================================================================   

Time Skip…

December 24, 1998

Joint FBI/DEA Taskforce

Operation: Pathfinder’s Route

Callsign: Observer

Status: MIA

He was right, I muttered to myself as I attempted to go around another outpost filled with FARC troops. I hated him so, so much for making me run the SERE course with the Special Operations Group. Now, I’m beginning to see the benefits as I head for the Caribbean coast. Blast those alert bastards for figuring out where the DEA set up our primary staging ground.

We never saw the ambush coming.

I ducked back into cover and held my breath as a FARC trooper suddenly appeared from the thick jungle undergrowth. Armed only with my service pistol and a knife, I was helpless against the rifle-armed rebels. But this trooper, unknowing or uncaring of the danger, blundered closer and I took a chance.

I leapt for his exposed throat and cut off the nearly-formed scream of a prey mammal’s instincts at seeing a feral predator lunge at it. Tearing the throat open with my sharp teeth, I was rewarded with a torrent of blood. I allowed the blood to spray the leaves and ground as I pulled the dying mammal back into the thick underbrush and stripped him of his uniform.  

Shucking off his trousers, uniform jacket, webbing, beret, and bandana; I exchanged my outfit for his. As he was approximately my size, I was happy that it was a good fit. The only things left on him were his stained underwear and yellowed undershirt. A quick sniff of the air around me verified that the rebel I had just given an express trip to the mammal upstairs had partaken of virgin fruits.

While I could do nothing about the captives that FARC had taken without exposing myself to unnecessary risk, I could still memorise the GPS coordinates and lead a heavier extraction team back in. Shouldering my purloined AK-47 rifle from the mammal cooling on the ground, I imitated the mammal’s confident swagger down the road towards the outpost. Before leaving the corpse, I placed a silver coin on each eye. To stop them jingling as I moved, it was in a special carrying case with one garter strap for each coin. There were thirty-four coins in all.

I trudged forward towards the outpost, my good deed done. From my previous reconnaissance of the area two months before this one, there was a helipad and a helicopter somewhere to the rear of the outpost. While I could, theoretically, fly an MI-8 transport helicopter; I did not rate my chances well in an emergency takeoff scenario.

I had just stepped under the spotlights of the FARC checkpoint when I was immediately challenged by a jaguar with a nocked left ear.

“¡Oi, Roberto! ¿A dónde crees que vas? ¡Tu permiso no es hasta la semana que viene!” [Oi, Roberto! Where do you think you're going? Your leave is not till next week!]

“Pero ya ves, ¡la perra lo estaba pidiendo! Solo tenía que volver para otra ronda” I answered back with the same twang to my voice. [But you see, the bitch was asking for it! I just had to come back for another round]

The jaguar simply shook his head at me and chuckled ruefully as he put his right arm around me, “Roberto, mi amigo. No puedo seguir cubriendo tu trabajo. ¿Y si vienen los jefes? Nuestras dos cabezas rodarán. Ni siquiera quiero decir en sentido figurado” [Roberto, my friend. I cannot keep covering your job. What if the bosses come round? Both our heads will roll. I do not even mean figuratively].

I raised my left paw in submission as I chuckled, having seen FARC rebels do the same when challenged. “Okay. Me equivoqué. Haré mi trabajo, teniente” I replied seriously. [Okay. I was wrong. I'll do my job, lieutenant.]

“Deja de llamarme teniente. Te dije que seguimos siendo hermanos” the jaguar answered as he walked me towards an old Willys jeep. [Stop calling me lieutenant. I told you that we're still brothers]

“Vamos. Te dejaré en el cuartel. Ha sido una larga noche, y los altos mandos siguen buscando a un extranjero en la selva. Todo el mundo ha sido destrozado y necesitamos dormir. Hernández y Miguel pueden estar atentos por ahora” [Come on. I'll drop you off at the barracks. It's been a long night, and the higher-ups are still looking for a foreigner in the jungle. Everyone has been run ragged and we need our sleep. Hernandez and Miguel can keep watch for now.]

The jaguar climbed into the driver’s seat, I in the passenger seat, and the two of us drove into the FARC outpost.

Despite the tin roofed structures being visible from the air, FARC had procured camouflage netting to break up the outlines.

“Es posible que necesitemos obtener material nuevo. Este último fue el mejor de un grupo malo” I commented on the mammals used by Roberto as though they were beneath notice. [We may need to get new material. The latter was the best of a bad bunch]

“¿Qué tan malo?” the jaguar lieutenant asked as we passed the parked helicopter, I looked at the transport longingly.

“Creo que necesito un poco más de ese medicamento que me dio el médico la última vez. Me quema cuando hago pis” I answered. [I think I need a little more of that medicine the doctor gave me last time. It burns when I pee]

The jaguar halted the transport vehicle in the middle of a T-junction. The signs on the left showing the barracks, mess hall, and gymnasium. The signs on the right pointing out the on-base doctor, dispensary, and armoury. He then placed his head onto the steering column and gave a heartfelt sigh.

“Roberto, creo que hay que ver a un especialista en la ciudad. Te escribiré un pase” the jaguar replied as he took off his cap and rubbed his spotted head. [Roberto, I think you need to see a specialist in the city. I will write you a pass]

“¿Por qué? Funcionó la última vez” I answered, nervously tugging at the borrowed uniform as I lowered my right paw to the pistol holster. [Why? It worked last time.]

“Ahora, sé que tú no eres Roberto. Roberto se reía de ello. Las ETS no le asustan” the jaguar muttered into the steering column as he slowly turned to face me. [Now, I know you are not Roberto. Roberto would just laugh it off. STDs do not frighten him]

“¿Qué va a hacer ahora, señor? ¿Eres el extranjero que buscan mi los superiores?” the jaguar sagged in his seat in resignation. ["What are you going to do now, sir? Are you the foreigner that my superiors are looking for?]

“Puedo sacarte de aquí” I continued to cajole the jaguar, my right paw now having a firm grip on my suppressed pistol. I would draw if he made any sudden moves. [I can get you out of here]

To my surprise, the jaguar sagged even further into his seat as he turned to face me. Raising both his paws in submission, he simply nodded as he stepped out of the jeep.

“¿A dónde vas?” I asked as I drew the pistol out of its holster. [Where are you going?]

In halting English, the jaguar explained he was doomed anyway.

Once the FARC command structure got wind that I had passed through the outpost without challenge, then everyone’s lives were forfeit. The jaguar was lucky in that he had no family left who FARC could threaten with reprisals, I had already seen to that by getting rid of Roberto.

“Can you fly?” I pointed at the helicopter sitting on the makeshift helipad as we trudged back on paw to the control tower.

We had to abandon the jeep at the T-junction.

Apparently, maintenance had never gotten around to fixing the leak in the fuel line due to a lack of parts. While we sat at idle making small talk, the engine had spluttered and died due to a lack of fuel.

“Sí. Solo necesito autorización del controlador. Nadie vuela de noche. Solo la DEA hace eso” the jaguar replied in Spanish to my English query. [Yes. I just need clearance from the controller. No one flies at night. Only the DEA does that]

“I am starting to see why our constant raids are ineffective” I mumbled to myself as I trudged behind the jaguar, my own tail flicking in irritation.

The two of us made it to the tower unmolested. The jaguar as he was the de facto mammal in charge until the rest of the leadership returned, and I as the inveterate gigolo who leered at anyone who came too close.

The mammals still awake at this hour were more afraid of me.

The jaguar, and I had better get his name soon as there are a fair few jaguar members in FARC, knocked on the wooden door of the concrete and glass control tower. The entire structure struck me as odd as it stuck out in the landscape.

Why build an obvious landmark if the Colombian armed forces have been chomping at the bit to get rid of the rebels?

The penny finally dropped for me as I took in the buildings around me in a new light.

These buildings were old and crumbling.

Some needed a lot more than a simple coat of camouflage paint. Just across from where the control tower stood, I could make out the squat outline of an old fuel farm quietly rusting in the moist jungle air.

Faded letters scratched out on the tower read as: F - - t Mc- - - lan C- - - - l T- - er. A lighter-coloured rectangular portion near the base of the concrete control tower had four precise holes drilled into it.

As if a plaque had once been present.

I now knew where I was down to the precise grid square.

And it seemed that the DEA had failed to update their old maps due to the lack of MAMMINT (Mammal Intelligence) on the ground.

This was the old DEA staging ground that FARC had captured in connivance with local members of the militia during the first phase of their revolution.

I felt, rather than heard, the jaguar approach. Before I got too deep in my reminiscing, a paw lightly landed on my shoulder.

“Tower dice que podemos irnos esta noche. Al parecer, un avión de la DEA fue derribado no muy lejos de aquí” the jaguar informed me in a conversational tone, keeping it light for the listening troops. [Tower says we can leave tonight. Apparently, a DEA plane was shot down not too far from here]

“Los demás están pidiendo grupos de búsqueda adicionales y nos han ofrecido como voluntarios para buscar en el cuadrante noreste” the jaguar continued as we walked to the helicopter as maintenance crews were roused from their beds to tend to the aging Soviet warbird. “Eso está bastante cerca de la costa caribeña” he added for me sotto voce. [The others are calling for additional search parties and we have been volunteered to search the northeast quadrant. That is quite near the Caribbean coast]

“¿Cuántos vendrán con nosotros en una búsqueda esta noche?” I asked in Spanish, not trusting that I could overpower thirteen additional individuals before I would inevitably be discovered. [How many will come with us on a search tonight?]

“Otros seis. El resto está enfermo de malaria” the jaguar joked morbidly. [Six others. The rest are sick with malaria]

“Nunca recibí tu nombre. ¿Puedo tenerlo?” I asked kindly, with a rakish grin that the late Roberto favoured when he wanted to sleep with mammals. [I never got your name. Can I have it?]

“Mateo Escritor” the jaguar answered softly as we boarded the whirlybird for what would be the MI-8’s last flight with FARC.

“Puaj. ¿Qué hace aquí el lascivo Roberto?” a new voice proclaimed as a maned wolf sleepily entered the co-pilot’s chair. [Ew. What is the lecherous Roberto doing here?]

“El comando quiere que me una al grupo de búsqueda. ¿Sigues siendo un borracho ligero?” I fired back, having smelt alcohol on the other predator’s breath. [Command wants me to join the search party. Are you still a lightweight drunk?]

“Escúchame, pequeña mierda. Soy un piloto maestro y no me dejaré empujar por...” the maned wolf lunged in anger at me and smacked his hard head on the harder centre console, knocking himself out. [Listen here, you little shit. I am a master pilot, and I will not be pushed around by...]

“Roberto, toma su silla. De todos modos, es un inútil en este momento” Mateo turned to me as he began his pre-flight checks while a member of the maintenance crew dragged the unconscious maned wolf out. [Roberto, take his chair. He's useless right now anyway.]

I accepted a helmet from a maintenance mammal and slid the bulky device onto my ears.

I tuned out the pre-flight checks as Mateo reverted to a detached tone of voice as he described some of the functions of starting the helicopter.

“APU, inicio” Mateo called out as he flipped the switch. [APU, start]

The flight engineer behind me confirmed it as he watched the dials on his console.

I just sat back, knowing that there was a NATO carrier task group on manoeuvres just outside Colombian waters. If I, or the other agents, needed to get in contact with the task group, then something had gone horribly wrong.

The situation would change once we were airborne, of course. We would attempt our search pattern until dawn and once the sun was high enough, charge out to sea at full speed.

“Roberto, saluda a la torre. Estamos autorizados para el despegue” Mateo instructed me, and I did just that. [Roberto, wave to the tower. We're cleared for take-off]

Slowly, we began to rise from the helipad as Mateo applied more power to the collective. I helped by copying his actions on the co-pilot’s seat under Mateo’s directions.

Looking outside, I noticed that the rotorwash was enough to blow over some of the mammals on the ground.

Mateo tapped me on my shoulder and pointed out a lit sight near the horizon. “Eso es Cartagena. Puedo tomar un desvío antes de regresar para que puedas verlo” [That's Cartagena. I can take a detour before we head back so you can see it].

I nodded my head enthusiastically, to the chuckles of the crew over the intercom.

They knew a country cub like me had never seen the coast. Or rather, that Roberto had never seen the coast.

“Roberto, cámbianos a esta frecuencia” Mateo gave me a slip of paper. [Roberto, switch us over to this frequency]

I dutifully switched the radio frequency and were greeted by the rough voices of the FARC leadership.

“Número cuatro, ¿por qué has tardado tanto en unirte a la fiesta?” a voice asked us. [Number four, what took you so long to join the party?]

“Lo siento, señor. La mayoría de mi tripulación de vuelo está enferma de malaria. Tengo otros seis conmigo y ninguno de los soldados” Mateo answered in a supplicating manner. [Sorry, sir. Most of my flight crew are down with malaria. I have six others with me and none of the soldiers]

“Espero, por su bien, que sus soldados no estén demasiado adoloridos mañana cuando pase por aquí para una inspección sorpresa. Siento que estoy de humor para correr por la cordillera de los Andes” a deep voice breached the radio chatter, making the flight crew shiver with the sheer malice being broadcasted. [I hope for your sake that your soldiers will not be too sore tomorrow when I stop by for a surprise inspection. I feel like I'm in the mood for a run up the Andean Mountain range]

“No, señor. Comenzaremos nuestro patrón de búsqueda con su aprobación” Mateo informed our interlocutor who gave a loud laugh over the airwaves before cutting the transmission. [No sir. We will begin our search pattern with your approval]

Mateo then quickly switched us over to the intercom as the radio chatter broke out into jeers at our outpost for failing the bosses.

“Mateo, espero que tengas una salida para nosotros que no implique una muerte lenta?” the flight engineer behind my seat informed our pilot. [Mateo, I hope you have a way out for us that does not involve a slow death?]

“Seguro. Podemos hacer el patrón de búsqueda y derivar lentamente hacia el Océano Atlántico” Mateo informed the six other members with us. [Sure. We can do the search pattern and slowly drift towards the Atlantic Ocean]

“Estás loco. La Armada Animaliana nos va a derribar” the crew chief muttered into the intercom as we began the search pattern.  [You're mad. You'll just get us shot down by the Animalian Navy]

“Créanme, amigos. Tengo un plan” Mateo assured them as he flew steadily over the grid patterns. [Trust me, friends. I have a plan]

“Seguro. Y Roberto yace muerto y enterrado en el suelo” another commented. Roberto being a hot button topic for the lieutenant. [Sure. And Roberto lies dead and buried in the ground]

The silence from their lieutenant was the first hint that something had gone wrong.

Their second hint was when I began to chuckle darkly from the co-pilot’s seat when I heard that message over the intercom. “Entonces, lo mejor es que nos dirijamos al Atlántico lo más rápido posible. Camaradas. Tengo un horario que cumplir” I answered over the intercom, my voice no longer masked, and emanating similar malice to the FARC ground commander from earlier. [Then, it's best if we head for the Atlantic as fast as possible, Comrades. I have a schedule to keep.]

The looks of abject fear on the cockpit crew as the foreign agent they were searching for was very much in control of the aircraft.

Without even looking at the controls, I changed the frequencies to match the secure UHF transmission for the USS Nimitz taskforce on southern Atlantic exercises with the Royal Navy. My IFF would be different, but that’s what visual confirmation was for.

“Mother Base, this is Ghost One. I am loaded for bear and need a clear corridor out of FARC territory” I intoned neutrally, unknowingly interrupting the imposed radio silence of the task force as they crept closer to Colombian territorial waters. Doing the math in my head, I knew that the tank on the Hip would get us to the coast and perhaps a little further before we had to ditch.

There was an interminable silence before a neutral male voice came back on the frequency “Ghost One, confirm status. What was your squadron in Korea?”.

“Trick question, Mother Base. I don’t have one. I did sign up for ice hockey junior varsity my plebe year at Annapolis if that counts” [Junior Varsity: Joint CIA-FBI recruitment drive]

“Your position on the ice hockey junior varsity team, Ghost One?” the controller replied steadily, the muted click of switches being flipped in the background giving an indication of distraction.

“Goalkeeper” I answered, keeping a weathered eye on the flight engineer and the crew chief.

“Mother Base confirms. Be advised that Hornets are being scrambled as we speak. What’s your craft?” the same voice talked calmly as activity picked up around the operator.

“A Hip helo from the ‘Nam era. We are at treetop height and hauling ass” I answered as Mateo pushed the collective forward and we abandoned all pretence of continuing the search as we shot forward in a straight line towards the glittering lights of the coast.

An alarm sounded in the cockpit as the crew chief hurriedly left and ran back towards his station. Looking at it, I deduced it was a missile lock alarm. Taking control from Mateo, I engaged the poor electronic countermeasures and the flare dispenser to break the lock.

I even flew the rotorwing erratically to shake the lock. The flight engineer looked a little green as I pushed the nose of the helicopter even closer towards the trees whipping quickly passed the glass canopy.

“Mother Base, we have a missile lock. Popping off flares and climbing” I informed the carrier controller as I did just that. Mateo also struggling with the full fuel load we had as well. Just as I said that, a missile streaked past the canopy and detonated in the jungle.

“Mother Base, I am getting shot at. Where are the Hornets?” I asked the carrier, putting a little more stress in my voice as I could hear the rattling pings of small-arms fire from the FARC ground troops as they tried to puncture the armoured floor of the Soviet helicopter. Nothing short of 25mm automatic cannon fire would penetrate and I doubted that FARC wanted the Colombian army to know their full capabilities.

Still worth not to take any chances as I made the big lady dance through a combination of rudder and stick movements.

“¡Mateo, arma estas vainas de cohetes!” I informed the jaguar who only nodded as two switches were flicked. [Mateo, arm these rocket pods!]

“En mi marca, peraltad a la derecha” I let him know as I saw the flight engineer strap himself in. [On my mark, bank hard right.]

“Tres…dos…uno. ¡Gira! Duro a la derecha!” I waited for the pursuing helicopter to climb the ridge we had just vacated, before giving the order. [Three…two…one. Turn! Hard right!]

The old bird still swung swiftly as I unleashed unholy hell on the pursuing Hip with the S-5 rockets of our current bird. It only took a single volley for the pursuing Hip to burst into flames as one of the rockets struck something important.

Mateo turned the Hip back around for our rapid escape to the coast.

I heard the missile lock alarm sound once more and I continued popping off countermeasures until I heard the welcome Animalian voice call out “Ghost One, head on through. We got this” as F/A-18 Super Hornets screamed into view.

The missile lock indicator went silent, and I knew that my pursuers had either fled back to the mountains or had been felled by AIM-9M Sidewinder hits from the Hornets.

Before I could even think of celebrating, I checked the oil pressure gauges and knew we would have to abandon the helicopter soon. The first turbine was damaged. Either from ground fire or our pursuers getting off a lucky shot.

“Mother Base, this is Ghost One. Thanks for the assist. I have bad news, though. We have to land the bird. One engine is down. Repeat, one engine is down” I informed the task force controller.

“Mother Base copies, Ghost One. Can you make it to Cartagena? There’s a landing strip just outside the city. A Marine strike team will wait for you there” the controller replied.

I looked over at Mateo who only shook his head sadly. I looked back at the flight engineer, and he was crossing himself.

“Mother Base, at the rate we are losing both oil pressure and fuel, we may not make it to Cartagena. We’ll be lucky if we can make it past the next ridge” I answered sadly, knowing our survival depended on greeting the task force.

As if in solidarity, the Hip shuddered from stem to stern as the second engine seized up and quit to join its fellows in the next life.

“Mayday! Mayday! This is Ghost One. We are going down. I repeat, we are going down” I informed the carrier task group as all forward momentum stopped. The only sounds now were our breathing and the whistling sounds of the feathering rotors above us.

I saw the ground coming up to meet us and shouted one word to those behind me. “BRACE!”

The impact slammed me into my chest harness and I took a pained breath as the helicopter rolled onto its side.

I may have blacked out, because the next thing I remember was a Navy corpsmammal shining a light into my eyes.

“He’s awake” ‘Doc’ cried out to jubilant cheers from the seated marines.

I locked eyes with FARC pilot Mateo Escritor and nodded my spotted head. I would fight for clemency as he did his best to get me home.

=====================================================================================

While I recuperated in one of the hospital beds onboard the swiftly leaving Nimitz, Mateo and the four remaining flight crew had been given a rough once-over by the Navy mammals who had bared teeth at them the whole time. They were then locked in the brig in separate cells.

I did not come to know of their status until we were three days away from entering Puerto Rican waters as I was held incognito while intelligence officers debriefed me on FARC strength in the region.

I gave what little I had come to glean from our disastrous operation. As I pointed it out on a map of the region and that I had stumbled onto an old DEA staging ground, the demeanours of the military officers around me changed as they openly sneered at their civilian counterparts’ poor intelligence.

“Sirs, that is all I have. Could someone see me to the guest quarters so I can check up on the former FARC flight crew?” I informed the assembled mammals, inquiring if I could go visit the four mammals in the helicopter with me.

The door gunner sadly did not make it. Centripetal force had flung him outwards from the chopper and he fell into a ravine.

“You can find them in the brig. Corporal Jenning here will escort you” Captain Thomas Sidewall, a beefy old grizzly bear and commanding officer of the USS Nimitz, volunteered one of the marines with him as my escort to see the imprisoned mammals.

“What for? They helped me escape. The jaguar, Mateo Escritor, most of all” I answered confusedly.

“We could not verify their stories without your support. For all we know, you had taken them hostage in a bid to escape FARC captivity” the Royal Navy S-3, Commander Montgomery Shilling, offered a way out.

“I would like to offer to host Mateo once I get back stateside, sirs. The least I could do after I took out his only family member” I replied. “I don’t think I can do covert ops any longer at this rate” I added morosely. I did not see the other mammals at the table nod their heads in unison as I stood up with some difficulty.

The alert marine assisted me out of the wooden chair and carried part of my weight as the two of us made it out of the wardroom.

=====================================================================================

I would not have made it back to Animalian lines as quickly as I did without his aid, and I reported as much back to my superiors in Washington.  

Grateful for my aid, and willing to have their mismanagement kept under wraps, the DEA had caved to my reasonable demands that Mateo and the flight crew be given asylum. For their part in assisting my escape, their crimes were expunged, and a bullshit story was concocted that they were deep cover agents who had forgotten who they were with how long they kept themselves secreted inside the FARC chain of command.

The Colombian government went live with the news thanking their “Animalian allies for the decapitation of FARC Central Command” as word reached them that a good number of those killed in the pursuit were those of the council of elders. The Colombian armed forces were then able to mop up the scattered rebel elements as each faction fought each other to maintain control of the rebel group, making them easy targets. For aiding the government in crushing the rebel group, the foreign agent who had helped sow the seeds was accorded the highest honour the government could bestow: the Order of Boyacá. It was presented to the Animalian ambassador to Colombia, who accepted on behalf of the now deceased agent; who had expired from wounds accrued during the escape after delivering all he could remember to the intelligence community.

Furthermore, in my absence, the portfolio that Secretary Furie started under my name had borne fruit. I could safely retire from the Agency and all my financial needs would be well taken cared of. The humble severance pay from the Bigs had been cleaned through various shell corporations and invested into rising companies like Carrot for a healthy return of investment.  

I was sitting prettily on a nest egg of not less than a hundred million dollars.

The first thing I purchased was a decrepit manor house near Langley, Virginia. The CIA happily moved into the 2000 m² ranch-style property, leaving me with the house itself after some “modifications”.

The next purchase was a set of smaller three-storey apartment buildings in the Zootopia city-state that had been seized when the property developer, Honest John’s Realty Incorporated, defaulted on paying back the loans they had accumulated from First Federal Bank. With some pressure on the bank, the buildings were awarded to my estate via a cooked bidding where my estate’s bid was the only one accepted.

The Agency then used a contractor to refurbish the facilities for subletting; agents following behind to install toys for their own use in selected apartments.

Not to be outdone, the Bureau had purchased the deed to a defunct office building in downtown Zootopia. After running some ideas by me, they agreed to establish a field office in the peaceful city-state. The only thing original left on the building after the Bureau was done gussying it up was the bronze plaque proclaiming it a heritage site. Even the glass panes on the windows had been replaced with bullet-resistant polycarbonate sandwiches to protect those working inside.

Once the agency upgrades finished, I hired the former crew chief Miguel Concolor as my apartment manager. Turns out he had a business degree and had only joined the rebels in the hopes of taking out the corrupt city official who had swindled him out of his life’s work. (I let the spooks handle that part. I wanted no part of the bloodletting that was to follow.)

He promised that he was up to the task. He took on the other surviving former gunner, Francisco del Toro, as his assistant and handymammal as the water buffalo was surprisingly adept with tools sized smaller than his hooves. Upon being presented a brand-new set of tools sized for him and with suitable adapters as necessary, he had shed tears of joy at not having to control his grip to prevent crushing the handles.

My work for the government still took me out of the country more often than I would have liked, but I knew my properties and assets were in good paws.

I did not know it at the time, but I had managed to acquire four of the most loyal mammals in the world.

The rebel group they had once been part of was relegated to a footnote in history as their home quickly advanced into the 21st century.

Chapter Text

Present Day…

April 12, 2016

800 Glacier Drive, Tundratown District, Zootopia

Ivan “Wolfheart” Evans

“Do I even look remotely dashing, Mateo?” I asked Mateo Escritor’s opinion on my black-tie attire, my personal pilot, and part of the house staff.

“Dashing as always, señor” Mateo answered as he was dressed in his private pilot’s uniform.

=====================================================================================

It was over a decade since he had been granted asylum and the jaguar still felt as if it was only yesterday.

He had lied to his current employer when he said he had no family left in Colombia.

It was true that he had renounced all familial ties upon joining the revolutionaries. He just assumed that his employer did not already know of his indiscretion. He should have known better, working as he did for the Animalian government’s head spy. Just yesterday he had talked with his sister, and she was just accepted for further studies at St. Mary’s hospital in London. He had congratulated her over the phone. The moment he put the phone down however, he almost had a heart attack as he met the unamused smile on his employer’s face.

Mateo had gulped as if he was facing a firing squad and knew that he would have to choose his next words carefully. His employer, (Mateo could not call the snow leopard anything else) had fingers in many pies. Some of those pies would gladly dump his ex-FARC body into a dark hole and forget where they threw away the key. His employer had then leaned on the doorjamb and simply chuckled. Mateo felt the tension leave his body at the chuckles.

“Mateo, si yo quisiera matarte, lo hubiera hecho en el campamento de las FARC” [Mateo, if I wanted you killed, I would have done so back at the FARC camp]

“Entonces, ¿no estás enojado?” Mateo asked the snow leopard in Spanish, immaculately dressed from a fund-raising party for the incumbent President. [So, aren't you angry?]

“¿Debería estarlo? Realicé una extensa verificación de antecedentes sobre usted y los demás. Mi instinto me decía que eras digno de confianza y yo tenía razón, ¿no?” his employer answered nicely. [Should I be? I ran an extensive background check on you and the others. My gut said you were trustworthy, and I was right, wasn't I?]

“Sí, señor. Tenías razón. ¿Qué pasa ahora?” Mateo asked further, not willing to believe that his employer would let an insult slide. [Yes sir. You were right. What happens now?]

“I knew all about your sister the moment we landed back on Animalian shores. I know all about the other’s families as well. Who do you think the foundation sponsoring them out of the country belonged to?” his employer had answered in English, gesturing for the jaguar to follow him to the dining room.

Mateo gulped back his nerves and followed the snow leopard out into the corridor.

Once he exited his room on the manor grounds, he became acutely aware of the stares from the snow leopard’s security detail as their eyes followed him. The agents soon followed a discreet distance behind him and his employer. The jaguar knew he would not last long in a brawl with them nor could he move to take out his employer.

The snow leopard had once said a year into asylum that Mateo’s chains were broken. Mateo had countered it by saying that the chains of ownership had shifted to his current employer. The snow leopard had ended the conversation by allowing Mateo to leave the manor grounds in Langley, Virginia. Just as his employer promised, there were no agents following the jaguar nor watching his every move. It was only when Mateo got to the local bus station that he realised he had departed too hastily. He had neither money nor a change of clothes on his person and he dreaded spending the night in an unfamiliar place. Flagging down a local police cruiser, he explained to the incredulous wolf officer behind the wheel that he had come from the ranch just past the peach orchard and needed a way back home as he had forgotten his travel papers.

The next thing that Mateo knew, he was being cuffed, and thrown into the back of the cruiser for “wasting an officer’s time. No one lives beyond the orchard, boy”.

He experienced what every vagrant transiting through the area got when local law enforcement deemed others a menace to society: a trip to the holding cell.

The jaguar spent an uncomfortable night at the empty jail, sleeping on a hard cot in a cell designed to hold forty medium-mammals. He was denied his one phone call, even when he explicitly asked for it. Knowing better than to continue to question authority, he had simply sidled off to the cell and closed his eyes when the door slammed behind him. He made his way to the funky-smelling cot and curled atop it. It was not unlike the time he spent in the jungle anyway. Complete with irreverent assholes like the wolf who threw him in.

When Mateo woke to the smell of Italian roast coffee, however, he knew that his employer had come for him. Outside the barred door of the cell, he found that his employer was indeed waiting with a fresh cup. The snow leopard wordlessly handed over the porcelain cup to Mateo and as the jaguar took a sip of the invigorating beverage, opened the door.

Mateo then witnessed a peculiar sight.

In the cell opposite him was the wolf officer from yesterday, stripped of badge, rank, and dressed in an orange jumpsuit. The wolf looked like he wanted the ground to open and swallow him.

“How did you know to look for me, sir?” Mateo asked as he was gently led away by a fellow jaguar in a suit.

“Come now, Mateo. This town is under the purview of the CIA. That wolf” the snow leopard had jerked a thumb at the silently weeping wolf in the cell, “will find that harassing a diplomatic aide has consequences”.

Just as the steel door slamming behind him the night before was disheartening, the same sound now meant that another page had turned in Mateo’s life.

And for once, he was grateful that his employer would come to his aid.

=====================================================================================

As the two entered the brightly lit dining establishment, after traversing another open space that was ostensibly the main hall, a pair of waiters in tuxedos greeted them just inside the noisy hall.

“Good evening, sir. Dinner service has already commenced. Table for two?” a black stallion with a white diamond on his forehead asked the snow leopard respectfully in an authentic West End accent.

“We are not doing this routine again, Schaeffer. You are not due to rotate back to The Establishment for another month” the snow leopard answered exasperatedly, clueing in Mateo that the stallion and his counterpart were either agents or aligned with the agency.

“Practice makes perfect, sir. You did impress that upon us during your last visit” the stallion continued to talk in his refined voice as he handed over two menus with the night’s offerings to Mateo.

“Very well. Know that I will not count this against you. Lead the way, Ian” the snow leopard answered with a put-upon tone as he followed the stallion to a table.

Mateo had goggled at all the mammals inside who looked dressed for a formal function. The glittering jewels he saw on one gazelle’s neck rivalled what he knew the Crown Jewels looked like from the Tower of London brochures. His employer moved behind the stallion with a grace that a jungle cat such as he could not hope to match.   

A nudge to his side by the second waiter had the jaguar focus on the white wolf wearing a dinner jacket. The soft smile the wolf was wearing was at odds with the stiff stance of a trained agent. Mateo just knew that the wolf would have to retake the course.

“This way, sir” the wolf extended his paw outward as he gave a slight bow to the jaguar. Mateo gave a sharp nod, and the white wolf led the way to where his employer and Ian were waiting.

“Glad of you to join us, Mateo. Done sightseeing?” his employer had asked with a playful tone.

“I have never…um…how do you put it?” Mateo had stammered out a response as he automatically sat down in the chair opposite the seated snow leopard.

“¿Nunca antes había estado en una función formal como esta?” his employer finished the question in Spanish to put the jaguar at ease. [Never been at a formal function like this before?]

“No, señor. Esta es la primera vez para mí” Mateo answered the snow leopard. [No, sir. This is the first time for me]

“No te preocupes, gatito. Esta es una mera sesión de entrenamiento para que los agentes junior practiquen” ‘Ian’ replied in a low voice, startling Mateo with how fluent the horse was in his mother tongue. [Not to worry, kitty. This is a mere training session for the junior agents to practice]

“Trate de no asustarlo, agente Schaeffer. Esta es la primera vez que asiste a la reunión social” his employer muttered as he undid the tassel keeping the stiff cardboard menu shut. [Try not to scare him, Agent Schaeffer. This is his first time attending the social gathering]

“You lost me there sir” the wolf interjected, his tail held low. At the snow leopard’s raised left eyebrow, the wolf hurriedly dug his own grave “I don’t know Spanish, sir. Besides a few phrases on how to call the embassy”.

“Agent Schaeffer, when this night is over. Kindly take Agent Howlington to some language refresher classes” Mateo’s employer calmly stated as he then read from the menu to stay in character. “By the way, I have heard that the sea bass is exquisite tonight. I shall have that with a glass of your best white wine. What shall you have Mateo?”

“Urm,” Mateo stalled for time as he opened his own menu as the stallion produced a small notepad and pencil from inside the dinner jacket. Quickly scanning the menu, Mateo deadlocked between a stir-fry and pasta. “Both the stir-fry and clam pasta look good. Which do you recommend?” Mateo asked the white wolf.

“I…uh…um…” the wolf stammered worse than Mateo as he fumbled the ball. Before the wolf could embarrass himself further, ‘Ian’ intervened.

“I do apologise for my colleague here. He is new you see” the stallion informed the table in a placating manner. He continued by saying, “I highly recommend the clam linguine. The linguine has been cooked to al dente and the clams were just freshly harvested this morning. A light squeeze of lemon juice adds just the right amount of tartness to complete the sweet taste of the clam. The dish is then liberally dusted with authentic Parmesiano Reggiano and topped with a parsley leaf”.

“I shall have your clam linguine then. Thank you” Mateo thanked the stallion for his smooth delivery and the mouthwatering way he described the dish. (A/N: I made myself hungry just typing this. The first time was ordering it)

“Would sir also care for a glass of wine to accompany his pasta?” ‘Ian’ queried the jaguar, writing the order down as the wolf stood with muzzle agape.

“I just drink beer mostly” Mateo admitted bashfully, feeling horribly out of place in the formal dining atmosphere.

“We do carry a superb Pinot Grigio of excellent vintage. Perhaps, a glass of that?” the stallion continued to push.

“Yes. A glass. Leave the bottle” Mateo sputtered out in accented English as his employer bit his tongue to keep from laughing.

When both ‘waiters’ left, his employer had gotten himself under control. Mateo, meanwhile, felt very warm as he felt flushed from his ears down to his toes.

And without a drop of alcohol in his system too.

His discomfort must have been obvious as his employer turned the topic to his sister’s specialty. Without any further prompting, Mateo had gushed about the lives that his sister had saved as she took up her residency as a future surgeon.

He and his employer had made small talk while they waited for their meals to arrive. As they chatted, ‘Ian’ came in with a look of supreme foreboding. Mateo did not notice as his back was to the stallion, but his employer did and called a halt to their talk.

Immediately, Mateo saw his employer’s face blank as a silver tray was placed in front of the snow leopard.

On it was a single prepaid phone and a slip of paper.

Looking up at the stallion, his employer asked, “No rest for the wicked?”

“Nor for the weary” the stallion replied apologetically as he put the tray down in front of the snow leopard.

“Sah, why must it be you?” the stallion begged in a distinct Bostonian drawl, the West End accent being dropped as the large mammal broke character.

Mateo was certain that the music in the hall stopped too as both the ‘wait staff’ and ‘guests’ stood up and exposed their holsters. The gazelle with the glittering jewels had shed these as she pulled out a baby assault rifle from under her dress.

=====================================================================================

I knew none of Mateo’s thoughts as I fixed my bowtie in front of the ornate silver mirror for the fifth time.

My own case of nerves on full display as I would once more step foot inside the dragon’s den.

Officially, I am the Deputy Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and my rank precludes me from partaking in spook activities.

Unofficially, I am the Animalian government’s most successful infiltrator.

Where the enemies of justice and order are, there I shall be sent.

As with FARC, the Xianese Triads, the Nipponese Yakuza, the Sicilian Mob.

I am scared not just for Mateo, but also my future.

What happens when I stop? Will the world go back to how it once was? Or will the nations finally pick themselves up and move forward?

The sole reason I rarely saw Animalian shores was that I was instrumental in either dismantling the gangs or subjugating them to my will. The smart ones threw their lot in behind me.

From their captured files, I honed my craft and made myself practically indispensable. Security agencies all over the world are falling over themselves trying to identify the mystery mammal instrumental in the destruction of quite the number of gang elements.

I worry when my own government places a price on my head. It is not a question of if, but when.

As more gangs choose to join my burgeoning umbrella network of spies and informants over outright destruction, the growth will reach a tipping point and the network will have to trim itself organically.

No mammal lives forever, after all.

A tap on my shoulder stops me from diving deeper and I visibly hold myself back from attacking Mateo.

“Sir, it is almost time for the reception. We must make haste to beat the scheduled winter storm” Mateo informs me and I relax.

“Right as always Mateo. Let us away…” I proclaim with gusto as I tuck the envelope into my inner tuxedo pocket.

“to that flighty mistress: Adventure” Mateo finished with boredom. He had heard that phrase one time too many and was no longer amused.

“Right you are, Mateo. We can use the helicopter so as to make an impression” I smiled warmly as we depart for the helipad behind the house.

Chapter Text

The approaching sound of a helicopter broke the silence of the night.

Invited guests making their way into an imposing stone manor stopped as the sound got closer. The whine of the turbines swiftly replaced by the chopping sound of the four-bladed helicopter as it hovered overhead.

Polar bears, snow leopards, and wolves in suits placed their paws over their concealed holsters and made ready to sound the alarm as the whine of turbines got closer.

Outside the manor’s wrought-iron gates, a parked ZPD cruiser disgorged its occupants as they stared up in disbelief. The faster officer, a brown wolf with cream front, snagged the radio microphone on the dashboard and contacted his precinct with an update.

Inside the manor itself, the sound of the approaching warbird brought hope to a rabbit and (despair to a) fox duo being held over an icy grave.

The shrew in a tuxedo and with a tiny rose, identified as Mr. Big, paused the execution of the annoying duo with a raised paw as the polar bears made ready to spirit their boss away in case this was a raid.

The largest bear of them all, Koslov bon Karpov, only groaned out in frustration.

“Who invited them?” Koslov growled out at the assembled polar guards. Everyone looked at each other and the bears holding up the fox and bunny duo were also confused.

If the bears looked confused, and the rabbit ecstatic that rescue had come for her, the fox shivered even more.

Nicholas Wilde may not have considered himself a religious mammal. Not since his mother passed from cancer and being thrown out by the Bigs for a rug.

But, now he silently prayed that Shinigami was not here for him.

Despite being held by Morris bon Karpov, he clasped both paws together in prayer, and asked that the Grim Reaper not be here for him.

“What trouble have you brought down on yourself, Nicky?” Mr. Big asked as he calmly tapped his cigar ash out into a tiny ashtray beside him. The shrew’s nerves also on edge.

“Nothing! I promise this has nothing to do with me!” Nick protested.

“Hah! Told you the ZPD is coming!” Judy shouted with glee.

Mr. Big chuckled darkly at the bunny’s naivete. “Bunny, if you know who is coming, you’ll beg for protection”

The side door opened and an ecstatic Francesca Big flounced in on the palm of another polar bear. “DADDY, HE’S HERE!” she squealed out with joy as she bounced up and down in the polar bear’s paw.

“Baby, who’s here?” Antonio Big asked his only daughter to hide his nerves from the annoying visitors dangling over the ice bath.

“MY GUEST, DADDY! MY GUEST! OH MY GOSH! I HAVE TO CHANGE MY MAKEUP!” she screamed out before the polar bear turned around and left with the female shrew. “DON’T ICE ANYONE!” Fru added as an afterthought.

The meeting room was silent for a beat. Then, two.

On the third heartbeat, Mr. Big broke the silence. “Boys,” addressing the polar bears holding the fox and rabbit duo, “put ‘em down”.

The polar bears did so as another replaced the wooden cover and silk rug over the hole.

“You are going to have the book thrown at you if it is the last thing I do” Officer Judy Hopps announced in the shrew’s face as she expected a SWAT team to burst through the door any moment now.

“Please not Shinigami. Please not Shinigami” Nick continued to repeat his mantra as he sat on the cold floor.

Three deep knocks sounded from the closed door to the office.

The door that led to the outside garage.

All the mammals inside, save for the naïve rabbit, swallowed past a ball of lead in their throats.

“Open it” Mr. Big pointed his cigar at Kevin and the suited bear moved to open the door. Everyone could see the bear visibly gulp as he placed his white paw on the lock and twisted it open.

The sound of the latch coming undone made everyone’s breath quicken for a moment as the heavy door creaked open. Kevin bowed his furred head and extended his right arm to admit their guest. The frost falling in from outside obscured the mammal who stepped inside. Once the door closed behind the mammal, and the frost cleared away, all could now see a snow leopard in a fitted suit grinning confidently at them.

“Of course, they send you” Antonio lamented as he closed his eyes when he recognised the visitor. His life, and his daughter’s, were now forfeit. The Animalian government’s chief executioner was here.

“I’m sorry for exposing you!” Nick cried out as he prostrated himself at the snow leopard’s paws, ignoring how cold the floor was through his silk shirt.

“You’re not ZPD” Judy tilted her head in confusion. This snow leopard looked like a detective, but the badge on his hip looked different.

“DADDY, I’M BACK!” Francesca screamed out as she entered from the side door.

Francesca, or Fru-Fru, saw who the visitor was and squealed like Clawhauser did when he saw Gazelle.

“IVAN, YOU GOT MY INVITATION!” Fru-Fru jumped up and down with glee.

“Of course, I did. Polar bear express mail” the snow leopard answered with a soft smile as he reached into his jacket pocket.

And evaded the grey and blue blur who had leapt at him with surprising ease.

“Ah, ah, ah. Meter maid. This suit is custom” the snow leopard teased the vibrating rabbit as her legs propelled her to land onto the predator’s chest.

Only to be slapped out of the air by the snow leopard’s paw.

Judy landed hard on the stone floor, her stab vest absorbing the impact and shattering. Looking up in fear, the first rabbit officer stared down the barrel of a gun.

“Kevin, my wedding gift for Francesca is inside my inner left jacket pocket. Reach in slowly” the snow leopard Fru-Fru had called ‘Ivan’ informed the hulking bear who gingerly reached into the direction and pulled out a tiny box with his claws. Gingerly, Kevin brought the box to the table where Mr. Big was seated and placed it down.

“Thank you, Kevin,” ‘Ivan’ informed the suited bear with his paws clasped in front of him.

“You are most welcome, sir” Kevin replied respectfully, raising eyebrows all throughout the room.

“Kevin, you are dismissed” the snow leopard informed the bear who left the room, Raymond and Morris following behind.

There was the sound of wrapping paper being torn away by an eager Fru-Fru as she unveiled a small jewellery box before her father could stop her.

“You didn’t!” Fru-Fru gasped out as she opened the box.

“Only the best for my little sister” Ivan replied with a warm smile. “Behold, the tears of Neraiah”

“Oh my gawrsh! These vanished from the Louvre eighty years ago!” Fru-Fru gushed over the diamond earrings.

“If Daddy won’t take you back in, I’m packing up and going with you!” Fru-Fru declared as she looked at herself wearing the priceless earrings from ancient Mesopotamia in a hand mirror.

“Funny” Ivan smirked at the only heir to the Big empire. “I was going to ask your father the same thing”.

“Mateo?” Ivan then talked to thin air, startling the mammals present. “What is it?”

“Tell Chief Bogo I have the situation well in paw. Yes, you can assure him that the naval destroyer sitting in the harbour is harmless. He need not fear for his precious city” the polar bears present grinned despite themselves at the dripping sarcasm when the snow leopard pronounced the last phrase. “If he can see the destroyer, then it is harmless. Trouble starts when the ship blacks out as it readies for battle”

“It seems I was a little late, Signora” the snow leopard addressed the last commissioned portrait of Grandmama hanging above the mantel and bowed low.

“Enough theatrics, Ivan. Why are you here?” Antonio Big politely demanded from the snow leopard. The shrew had heard whispers floating throughout the criminal underworld that a new player had taken the field. All of Europe and East Asia now fell under his sway. The shrew’s contacts in Sicily had gone mysteriously silent and mammals he sent over to find out more came back in boxes.

=====================================================================================

FBI Deputy Director Ivan de la Morte’s POV

“Mateo,” I informed my pilot as we flew over the ice-sculptured buildings of Tundratown with their red lights showing the danger limits for low-flying aircraft, “using a helicopter to crash a reception is how the nouveau riche one-up themselves”.

“Can you even be classified as new money, sir?” Mateo asked over the intercom, the noise of the whirring blades making normal conversation impossible.

“Not really. If you include all the assets that were seized from the extant gangs, I have a budget larger than some countries’ GDPs. In essence, I might be a new money myself” I admitted the last bit with a rueful chuckle.

“Still don’t see why we didn’t take the car” Mateo muttered into the intercom as we flew over the semi-frozen river that bisected the district.

“We didn’t take the car as it is a security risk” a new voice popped up behind us.

“Glad you could join us, Agent Sheffield” I spoke into the intercom to the lion in the cabin.

“Your security almost did not make it aboard. Your take-off was a little rushed” Agent Sheffield admitted disdainfully as he spoke into another helmet intercom.

“Everyone knows the plan?” I asked, changing the topic of our impromptu discussion. I hoped Raymond did not take offence that I changed the plan.

“We land. You go in and talk with the head honcho. If head honcho throws his lot in with us, nothing more needs to be said. If he chooses to make a last stand, we blow the place to Kingdom Come” the lion agent repeated in a bored voice.

“Just so” I replied as I nodded my head from the co-pilot’s seat. “Also, some of my contacts in the Navy already have the excuse of a Yuletide training exercise for the likely presence of the USS Arleigh Burke and USS Dorothy Miller in Arctic Bay”.

“Damn, sir. You thought of everything” the lion let out a low whistle at the amount of firepower at our ready disposal.

“Not really. Those are the contingencies if Plan A goes wrong” I replied confidently through the intercom.

I felt differently, however.

Past experiences had already taught me that one can never have enough firepower. I much preferred to talk it out, referring to former President Theodore Roosevelt’s “Walk softly and carry a big stick”.

Blessedly, I was saved from further discussion when the dark, empty expanse of the Bagnole estate appeared. The only lights seemed to be coming from the main house as I beheld a line of cars making their way in.

I checked my simple Patek Philippe watch and noted with amusement that I was only five minutes late for the wedding nuptials of Mr. and Mrs. Marco Guidicello.

“Mateo, open the floodlights and find a suitable place to land” I instructed Mateo and the jaguar complied, flicking a switch on the console and bathing the area with white light from the 50 million candlepower short arc xenon lamp. The agents in the cabin watched as the dark manor grounds turned to day with a flick of a switch.

“I want one of those for my car!” one of the agents exclaimed with glee.

“Sure you can, Agent Carmichael. You just have to convince the armourer when he comes to install it” I replied, fully recognising that our sour-faced Siberian tiger would flat-out body-slam Agent Carmichael into the tarmac before even approaching the agent’s Chevy Suburban.

“On second thought, I’ll stick with my halogens” Agent Carmichael replied uneasily as the other agents in the cabin ribbed him.

“Look alive, mammals. We have a welcoming committee” I informed the armed agents as three polar bears approached our impromptu landing pad. “Mateo, go dark”

I shucked off my helmet and undid the quick release of the harness as Mateo killed the floodlight, returning the area to darkness. Opening the door, I was out of the cockpit in a flash and I tackled the lead bear after a quick sprint that had the other mammal gasping.

“Here’s how its going to go boys” I informed the other two partially blinded bears as I fired a round into the bear at my feet, snow kicking up beside my attire as the lead bear stopped moving. “Bring me to the private office and you two get off scot-free. Resist. And you can join Stefanov in the snow” I gave them a choice as I fired two more rounds into the polar bear bodyguard in the snow.   

“We follow you. You have invitation?” the bear on the left with four lateral scars running across his face answered meekly with his paws held out in front of him. I held out the ivory-white envelope and the bear received it with two open palms. Turning it over, the bear opened the envelope flap and gently shook out a gold coin. Looking back down at me with fear, the largest land predator took a step back as I raised my suppressed pistol and fired point-blank. The bear’s blood stained the snow as he collapsed in a heap.   

“Fan out. Three meter spread” I coldly informed the agents via our comm links as I stepped over the body of the lead bear.

The third bear did not stay to be executed, lifting his right paw as if to call for assistance before he too fell. The soft snow cushioning and muffling the sound of a dead body hitting the ground.

Moving back to the lead bear, I kicked him in his side and ‘Stefanov’ rolled over with a grunt. With him now on his back, the bear was able to breathe freer than when his snout was buried under the snow. “Did you have to take out Boris and Velkan?” he asked from his supine position as he attempted to procure enough oxygen to fill his lungs.

“Of course, I did. No amount of bureaucracy excuses their crimes. My orders were clear: Turn who you can. Kill the rest” I informed my contact inside Big’s mafia.

=====================================================================================

The polar bear was wrongfully arrested by an overzealous Chief Hornfrost on the day the newly-minted chief was sworn in. And, dumped into holding to await trial for a crime he did not commit. Not least because the purse snatcher must have balls of steel to attempt such a feat in front of Precinct One while the Police Commissioner was swearing Captain Hornfrost in.

I smelt a set-up and used resources to track down the mammal/s involved.

I got wind of the sham trial in the works and had two of the jurors picked up just as the verdict was going to be handed down. Lacking a quorum, the trial misfired and the polar bear was returned to holding. During his transfer back to holding, the convoy was attacked by gunmammals and the court deputies were killed.

Instead of fleeing with the armed mammals, the polar bear chose to stay put as the transport emptied itself of mammals. When ZPD showed up, thirty minutes after the attack, the only one still alive was the bear.

Still shackled to the floor of the bus.

Instead of apologising or acting in good faith that the polar bear was at the wrong place at the wrong time, the ZPD charged the lone survivor with collusion and terrorism.

As terrorism is a federal charge, I went in-person to collect my entry back into the Bigs from Chief Hornfrost. The moment the rhino acted dumb to my query and begun to duck my calls; I knew that the bear was innocent of whatever charges were stacked against him.

I could have continued using the diplomatic route or the heavy-pawed federal approach where I show up with armed escort and physically grab the mammal from holding.

Instead, I went for trial by publicity and quietly arranged a meet with the most rabid reporter for The Zootopian Post. During the interview, ostensibly for a book that the reporter was collecting material for, I accidentally on purpose let slip that an innocent mammal was being held by the ZPD for domestic terrorism. That, despite federal calls to hand the mammal over, the new chief was slow walking the process for some shady dealings on the side.

And that was all it took for Zootopia to fall into the crosshairs of the public as the rhinoceros lost all integrity he had garnered during his rise.

His staunchest defenders were silenced by a furious Congressional hearing demanding where the prisoner was and the charges against him. When the mammal in question could not be located (kept incognito on orders of Chief Hornfrost), a federal arrest warrant was issued, and the rhino was then placed on Animalia’s Top Ten Most Wanted List.

As the Deputy Director, it fell to me to assign a task force to take out the rhino. I chose for the field office in Zootopia to bring him in. The Manta Bay office stood ready to assist and it was only 24 hours after the warrant was issued that the team reported success.

Once we were able to search his expansive ranch-style home in the Meadowlands, we discovered a dungeon underneath a storage shed that was not on the building plans. Inside a set of stairs hidden behind a false wall of gardening tools led the team underground, whereupon they found the decaying remains of three female infant calves and one old sow.

It looked for all intents and purposes that he was philandering on the side. To be sure, DNA samples were drawn from each corpse and tossed through the database. Inside the sow, three-day old semen was found. This too was tested and came back a positive match to Chief Hornfrost who now faced four counts of murder. Later, the charge of necrophilia was tacked on as the sow was dated to be dead more than a week prior to the rhino’s arrest.

The rushed trial was barely questioned. Especially so when federal agents guarding the courthouse were mysteriously assaulted by card-carrying mammals of the local Brotherhood faction.

The only mammal shocked by the sentence handed down by the federal court was the former chief himself.

The original sentence? Life imprisonment with the possibility of parole in the next 300 years. The inmate was barely in his cell when he bragged that his lawyers could get him out. His lawyers joined him in the cell once evidence came to light that they had helped him with at least one murder.

The federal government seized any and all assets of the former chief of police. Most damning was the wire transfer the FBI Cybercrimes Division caught going to a bank in Grand Cayman. The date of the transfer was the one phone call allowed to the former chief.

His sentence was then changed by an en banc Supreme Court to: “Hornfrost, this court finds you guilty on all counts. We have commuted your life sentence to death. You are now to hang. By the neck. Until dead. Should you still live, you are to serve out the rest of your millennium sentence until you meet the Devil himself”.

(I had arranged everything in such a way that my own paws were still lily-white. No one knew my true involvement besides accidentally leaking out confidential information. Congress censured me publicly and took away my bonus of a half million dollars. Privately, the senators most familiar with my methods gave a toast. They knew that the bonus was mere pocket change compared to the growing size of my assets.)

When I received word, that Mikhail Stefanov was quietly released from custody; I had a black limousine pick him up and bring him to Docklands. I had accurate doppelgangers dress up as Renato Manchas and Vladimir Goroshev to keep him on edge.

I found out later that I had beat the real counterparts by a day. Big was now scrambling to figure out which of his rivals had picked up his bear.

To alleviate his fears, I sent the boar a simple white rose and a single Benjamin.

The mafia code for peace. 

A tri-coloured floral bouquet of the Italian flag was despatched with Mikhail Stefanov after he agreed to my terms. The bouquet symbolised that the Sicilians had taken an interest and were asking for a meet.

[Excerpt from Incident Report No.: 2008-0914. WARNING! FOR YOUR EYES ONLY! DO NOT COPY!]

Antonio met with a front in a nondescript restaurant on the outskirts of Zootopia. He had assured the representative that he meant no harm by sending multiple envoys. And that he held no hard feelings for them coming home in boxes.

For his part, my representative acknowledged that it was also remiss on their end to not send out a message that they were doing a cleansing of the ranks. A foreign agent had managed to turn two of their own and they were still hunting down rogue elements.

Antonio gave a sigh of relief and promised his counterpart that nothing more would come of it.

He focused instead on his nightclubs, bookies, and protection rackets. His Italian counterpart gave assurances that everything would die down soon.

I commended the Italian when he reported back to me on his stellar performance. I asked what he wanted as a reward.

The reply of: “Hai risparmiato la mia vita e quella della mia famiglia. Questa è una ricompensa sufficiente per lavorare per te” [You have spared my life and that of my family. That is reward enough to work for you], was not very helpful. 

=====================================================================================

I continued to move through the guards of the manor. My security team following me in.

I fired no more shots as the rushing mammals proceeded to give me a wide berth.

The last of the guests had already been ushered into the manor and the guards resumed their standard patrols.

I ignored the main entrance where the guests had entered instead aiming for the side entrance, which I knew was frequented by supplicants and ‘guests’. Even with my absence, the layout itself had not changed and I still knew my way around.

A shivering silver fox was the last mafia mammal blocking me from entering the private carport. His chattering teeth gave him away more than his coat camouflaged him from sight. As I stopped in front of him, my security team behind me with rifles drawn, the fox did not know what to do.

“Step aside or fall forever” I issued a challenge to the poor fox, who only shook his head.

“Move or be moved. Last chance” Agent Sheffield issued his own challenge as the rifle tapped the head of the shivering fox.

“Mi scusi, signore. Questo è Giuseppe. Non capisce ancora l'inglese. Ci stiamo lavorando” an Iberian lynx spoke up in Italian. [Excuse me, sir. This is Giuseppe. He does not understand English yet. We are working on it.]

“Molto bene, ti prendi cura di lui” I answered. [Very well, you take care of him]

The lynx moved forward and tugged Giuseppe away from the lion aiming the rifle with lethal intent. The silver fox hugged the lynx across his chest as the lynx staggered off.

“Breach” I ordered my team forward as Stefanov simply opened the door and ushered us in. Closing the door behind him, the bear followed us down the corridor until we reached the only portal in the entire structure.

“Do it” I whispered to the polar bear as I straightened my rumpled coat.

Mikhail gave a slight bow and rendered three hard knocks onto the closed door.

I cracked my neck and rolled my shoulders as I got ready for a fight. Mikhail gave me a smirk and he departed with my security team back down the tunnel to the carport. The rapid exit of mammals left a vacuum that was soon filled with fog.

I heard the soft shuffle of a pair of feet and the latch coming undone. The door opened inward, and I saw the suited Kevin bow to me.

I stepped inside just enough for the door to close behind me as I grinned confidently at my prey.

“Of course, they send you” Antonio lamented as he closed his eyes when he recognised me.

“I’m sorry for exposing you!” Nick cried out as he prostrated himself at my feet, doing so despite the cold I could feel seeping through my thick pawpads.

“You’re not ZPD” Officer Hopps tilted her head in confusion at my attire. My brass badge on display for all to see. That and the secondary holster that rode on my hip.

“DADDY, I’M BACK!” Francesca screamed out as she entered from the side door on the paws of her guard, Antoine Delgato. As soon as she saw me standing in the silent room, she squealed like a certain cheetah squeals at limited Gazelle merchandise.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!” Fru-Fru screamed in joy as she beheld me.

“IVAN, YOU GOT MY INVITATION!” Fru-Fru jumped up and down with glee.

“Of course, I did. Polar bear express mail” I answered with a soft smile as I reached into my inner jacket pocket for the invitation. It was a good thing that my eyes never left the room as it made it easier to dodge the sudden leap from the token bunny.

“Ah, ah, ah. Meter maid. This suit is custom” I teased the vibrating rabbit as she rebounded off the stone wall of the manor to attempt to pummel me into submission. I sidestepped her attack once more and on her third attempt, I struck back. Slapping her out of the air and sending her crashing back down onto the stone floor.

The sudden crack and tinkling noise drew my attention to her ZPD-issued stabproof vest. Apparently, it was not rated to absorb a powered fall. I took a mental note of this development as I now had a lead on police corruption.

I then saw her gasp at the sorry state of her equipment. As she looked up in fear, I drew my suppressed pistol from my hip and she was staring down the barrel of a gun.

“Kevin, my wedding gift for Francesca is inside my inner left jacket pocket. Reach in slowly” I informed the hulking bear who gingerly reached into the direction indicated and pulled out a tiny box with his claws.

Gingerly, Kevin brought the box to the table where Mr. Big was seated and placed it down.

“Thank you, Kevin,” I informed the suited bear with his paws clasped in front of him.

“You are most welcome, sir” Kevin replied respectfully, raising eyebrows all throughout the room.

“Kevin, you are dismissed” I informed the bear who left the room, Raymond and Morris following behind.

There was the sound of wrapping paper being torn away by an eager Fru-Fru as she unveiled a small jewellery box before her father could stop her.

“You didn’t!” Fru-Fru gasped out as she opened the box.

“Only the best for my little sister” I replied with a warm smile, Francesca may have been denied me by circumstances outside my control. But, I still knew what made her happy. “Behold, the tears of Neraiah”

“Oh my gawrsh! These vanished from the Louvre eighty years ago!” Fru-Fru gushed over the diamond earrings.

“If Daddy won’t take you back in, I’m packing up and going with you!” Fru-Fru declared as she looked at herself wearing the priceless earrings from ancient Mesopotamia in a hand mirror.

“Funny” I smirked at the only heir to the Big empire. “I was going to ask your father the same thing”.

As all this was going on, my pistol remained pointed at the head of Miss Judy Hopps.

The first rabbit cop of the ZPD who was set up to fail.

“Congratulations are in order, Mrs. Guidocello. Who is the lucky mammal?” I informed the shrew.

Fru-Fru twirled a lock of her voluminous hair and tittered like a schoolgirl. “I don’t think you met him. He’s a pharmacist down in Little Rodentia. Most down-to-earth mammal I ever met” she gushed about her new husband. “After you, of course” she added hastily, my infamous temper still remembered.

I merely let it slide. That part of my past lay dead and buried.

As I contemplated just putting a bullet into the rabbit’s quivering nose, my communicator crackled.

“Mateo? What is it?” I asked my pilot.

“Sir, ZPD is responding to our landing at the manor. Also, that the harbour patrol just saw our support ship steaming gently up the bay” Mateo answered me over the airwaves.

“Tell Chief Bogo I have the situation well in paw. Yes, you can assure him that the naval destroyer sitting in the harbour is harmless. He need not fear for his precious city” the polar bears present grinned despite themselves at the dripping sarcasm when I pronounced the last phrase. “If he can see the destroyer, then it is harmless. Trouble starts when the ship blacks out as it readies for battle”

“Of course, sir. I shall relay your instructions. Good hunting” Mateo replied as he signed off.

“It seems I was a little late, Signora” I addressed the last commissioned portrait of Grandmama hanging above the mantel and bowed low in respect.

“Enough theatrics, Ivan. Why are you here?” Antonio Big politely interrupted my moment of silence.

“Did no one tell you?” I asked in mock confusion as I holstered my weapon back onto my hip and moving away from the paralysed Judy Hopps.

The shaking of the shrew’s head confirmed it. Raymond had no time to inform the shrew why I was coming.

“There’s a price on your heads. All of you” I answered without preamble, my paws clasped behind my back as I paced. “The federal government has decreed that the continued uncertain fate of the fourteen missing mammals cannot stand and is ready to back a full incursion into Zootopia. Raymond, perfect timing. Give Antonio my answer” I talked as I walked. Raymond coming in with a full tea set was the chef’s kiss as the bear paused in the doorway.

Slowly, the bear pulled out the screen half of the prepaid phone I had broken earlier while on surveillance, from his pocket and placed the broken device on the table.

Antonio reared back in shock, dropping his cigar as he lost his composure. The last image burned onto the screen was his name and the price on his head of $ 40 million dollars. Just below it was his daughter with a bounty of $ 5 million.

“And will you take the contract?” Antonio whispered out to a suddenly quiet room. Even Fru-Fru was silent, atypically of her.

“I was able to delay execution. For the next forty-eight hours” I answered as I tapped my watch two times. “The federal government wants the missing mammals found. If you have information that I can use, the order is stayed. If not…” I continued, and left the last sentence hanging.

“My daughter’s wedding first. Business after” Antonio begged on his knees, trying to shield his only daughter from the government hammer.

“Very well. Clock’s ticking” I answered in a neutral manner as Kevin returned to show me out.

Once I left with Kevin, the polar bear silently showed me to my former quarters in the guard room. Taking a look at the untouched apartment, it could only mean that the deceased matriarch had left orders in case I came back.

When the door closed, I took a circular device from inside my jacket and tossed it into the centre of the room. All recording devices in the room would no longer function properly and it garbled audio transmissions.

With the device in place, I sat down on my old bed and wept.

=====================================================================================

“Bunny. Wilde. Stay for the reception?” Antonio’s reedy voice informed the fox and bunny as Koslov gently carried his boss back up to the waiting guests. The remaining polar bears filed out, but the fox and rabbit were at the forefront of the bears.

“Carrots!” Nick hissed to the rabbit, knowing that her long ears were sensitive to sound.

“What Nick?” Judy hissed back, no malice in her voice as her radio had only crackled once with Chief Bogo giving the all-clear as he retreated from the manor.

“That snow leopard? That’s who criminals fear most. That’s Shinigami” Nick whispered to Judy as the two were steadily pushed forward.

“Who’s Shinigami?” Judy asked not at all quietly. The rough chuckle from Morris on her right made the rabbit look up at the youngish bear.

“A better question would be: Who was he before Shinigami?” Morris chuckled as he continued walking.

Hopps’ question went unanswered before the polar bears stopped and pulled out weapons.

In front of them was the tactical security team for the snow leopard. The lion’s face may have been hidden behind a respirator, but the mane gave him away.

“Where’s The Boss?” the lion was asking a scared maid at gunpoint. “And, if you lie to me, I can make your life hell” the lion promised.

“Boss went with Kevin to his old quarters here” Morris answered as all the rifles pointed at him and the maid made her escape.

“Find that hard to believe coming from a mafioso like you” the lion replied as the team switched off the safeties with simultaneous clicks.

“Stand down. He’s telling the truth” the call came from an unmasked jaguar appearing at the lion’s side and pushing the rifle downward towards the floor.

“Sir, should you be here?” the lion asked over the built-in vocabulator in the respirator, masking his voice.

“No, but who else will keep you animals in line?” the jaguar joked with the tactical security team.

The humour seemed to have the desired effect as the rifles lowered back to the low guard position.

“Very well, sir. Standing down” the lion replied as the mammal reset the position of his rifle. The tactical team followed suit.

“Now, which one of you gentlemammals wants to point me in the direction of my boss?” the jaguar stopped and asked the lead polar bear, Morris.

“Follow me sir” Morris answered the jaguar and led him up another set of staircases. The security team followed the two, never showing their backs to the mafiosi. The mechanised noise of the vocabulators unnerving even the hardened mafia members.

“Well, colour me impressed” Nick commented at the adept way the mammals advanced up the stairs in reverse.

“I thought that was my back-up” Officer Hopps commented sadly as she watched the squad climb the slick, marble stairs.

Her comment made Raymond guffaw loudly.

“Did you at least let your precinct know where you were going?” the mellow voice of the polar bear startling her, as she expected the same deep voice as Kevin. Raymond took her silence as a negative and continued to chuckle as the bears moved towards the reception. “If your precinct knows, they can find you. If you went as, Wilde’s Shinigami calls it, ‘off the reservation’ then you being here makes you one of the mafia as well. A better joke I could not write. Ahahahaha”.

Raymond’s laughter broke the stoic faces of the polar bears and they too laughed at the rabbit’s misfortune.

“So much for lucky rabbit’s foot” one of the older bears proclaimed in a deep, Roarssian accent as he led the way to the wedding reception.

“Guys, come on. She’s doing the best she can” Nick did not know why he was defending the rabbit. She had blackmailed him into helping her for Lamb’s Sake!

“Sure Nicky. But, we’re watching you” another bear interjected as he patted the concealed holster under his jacket.

Nicholas Wilde only gulped back in fear as he had barely escaped the bears the first time around. He could not put his finger on it, but someone kept leaving aid packages for him before he teamed up with Finnick for the Popsicle hustles.

=====================================================================================

I continued to weep silently inside my former bedroom when a series of soft knocks sounded on the door.

When I did not answer, the knob turned, and the door opened a smidge to admit the last mammal I expected to see.

Mateo entered the room, gave me a bottle of water, and some napkins swiped from a servant.

“Señor, sus agentes han estado preocupados en su ausencia. Están justo detrás de mí. Uno de ellos, el león, apuntó con su rifle a una sirvienta” Mateo informed me in whispered Spanish. [Sir, your agents have been concerned in your absence. They are right behind me. One of them, the lion, pointed his rifle at a maid]

Before I could reply, Agent Sheffield and the others burst into the room.

Seeing that the room was empty, yet doubting their sights, the team continued to sweep the area. Checking behind bookshelves and cabinets for hidden alcoves and passageways, they ignored the still-functioning jammer in the middle of the floor. I could see Kevin looking exasperated in the corridor. 

One of the agents, either a tiger or panther with how everyone was covered in black gear, came closer to Mateo and I. In one swift motion, they pulled out a first aid kit and a syrette of morphine from said kit. “Sir, are you injured?” the modified voice came out as the large cat knelt beside me.

I let out a deep sigh and sadly shook my head. The tears still streaming down my thick fur.

“Where does it hurt sir?” the medic continued to press.

“Area clear, sir” Agent Sheffield informed me as the agents fell in behind him.

“Guys, can you give us a moment?” Mateo asked the agents, who looked at each other and me before departing out the open door without another word.

“We’ll be outside, sir”

Kevin gave a huge sigh of relief when the agents left and he could breathe freely. As he made to approach my seated form, Mateo drew a pistol out of his concealed shoulder holster and halted the bear just across from us.

“Young Master, it would be best if you join Mr. Big down at the wedding reception” Kevin stated clearly, not wanting his words to be misconstrued as a threat by the armed jaguar.

“And expose myself even further to public scrutiny?” I fired back, my sadness rapidly boiling off in the face of anger.

Kevin raised his paws to placate me. “Not what I meant, Young Master” as Mateo pulled back the hammer of the gun.

“My employer has sacrificed too much to go back under the lens of the public. A compromise, purrrrhaps?” Mateo answered in my defence, letting out a purr.

“I will clear it with Mister Big. The reception part is non-negotiable. At least for Miss Francesca’s sake” Kevin answered contritely, as he slowly backed away out the door. The polar bear closed the door once more behind him.

When the door clicked back into place, Mateo replaced the pistol in its holster without returning the hammer to its resting position.

“Was it even loaded?” I asked as the Mateo dabbed the napkins on my tear-stained fur to blot out any excess.

“Your bear did not need to know that part” Mateo whispered with no small amount of glee.

“Ah well. Five minutes and we can head down” I replied as I opened the bottle and took a satisfying gulp of the cool water inside.

=====================================================================================

Judy Hopps had borne witness to many a wedding in her half a century on this earth.

Because of how the Triburrows worked, she had attended more of the social gatherings than she could stomach. Traditional rabbits wishing to start a family had to get permission from both sides before being given the go-ahead. It was not uncommon for distant cousins to think they made a match and only realise that they were related when shown the family tree.

Also not uncommon were strangers coming in from outside the community and sweeping unsuspecting does of their feet. After a whirlwind romance filled with many sexual escapades, the poor pregnant doe is left behind as the buck moves on to greener pastures.

Of course, that did not take into account how fast some of her own sisters worked. They would be standing at the altar with a litter of their own, another set already in the oven.

Shaking her head in disgust at one sister in particular “Super Sam” who was admired all throughout for her incredible stamina (More like Super Slut, Judy thought to herself), and making her ears flop around. Judy focused instead on the nuptials as the shrew she had saved the other day kissed her beloved. She cooed at the cute sight, to the chuckles of the shrew mob boss on her left.

For now, they shared the joy of another mammal being handfasted in holy wedlock. When Fru-Fru tossed her bouquet at the end of the service, the cute corsage went sailing through the air. The shrew’s entourage fell all over themselves trying to get it, only for the flowers to be sent off the edge of the stage. The shrews all paused at the edge of the stage, actually set on a regular-sized table with small lights shining throughout to give an illusion of a swanky hotel ballroom.

Around the table, eight polar bear guards stood at bored attention as each fought not to yawn. The youngest of them, a polar bear cub barely in his teens, reacted to the bouquet falling over and quickly opened his palm to catch the item.

Barely feeling the item in his palm, the cub raised his paw back to the stage and deposited the bouquet at the claws of an old shrew matriarch.

The music paused as all eyes turned to the lone remaining contemporary of Antonio Big and her reaction.

Judy observed that the groom, not the bride, tried biting off his finger claws in nervousness and her eyes got wider at an unobserved family dynamic.

Everyone held their breath, even the polar bear cub who looked like he had just committed a deep wrong against the family. The matriarch bent down and picked the bouquet up off the floor, sniffing it.

Nick saw it differently. With his keen eyes that picked up details the rabbit cop missed, he saw the hidden smile on the shrew matriarch’s lips. Turning to a younger-looking shrew to her right, she thrust the bouquet into his arms and admonished him in Italian “Tulio, vai e regala questo a quella ragazza che ti è piaciuta. La vedo nascondere il muso. Mostrale un buon momento e riscalda il cuore di questa vecchia ragazza”. [Tulio, go and give this to that girl you liked. I can see her hiding her muzzle. Show her a good time and warm this old girl's heart.]

Judy looked lost as her mind heard rapid-fire speech and assumed that the shrew wanted the younger one to get rid of the bouquet. Before she could leap in and open her mouth, a paw clamped down on her shoulder and stopped her from moving.

Looking up at the owner of the offending paw, she saw it was white.

She had expected Slick Nick to tell her off. Not some polar bear who could probably floss with her utility belt.

“Watch” the bear growled softly as Judy’s attention refocused on a female shrew in a white bridesmaid’s dress, accept the bouquet, and hug the stuffing out of the young shrew in a tuxedo. The music started up again and the couples began to dance on the polished circle of wood.

“Nicky, translate for me” the bear growled out at the fox who immediately leapt to attention.

“Quando due mammiferi si amano molto, muoveranno cielo e terra per rivedersi” the bear informed Nick whose ears turned red.

“I’m not saying that!” Nick hissed at the bear, uncaring that the truce with Mr. Big was tenuous at best.

“What’d he say, Nick?” Judy asked as she stomped on the fox’s right foot impatiently.

“When two mammals love each other very much…” the snow leopard from earlier rejoined the conversation and made Judy hide her red face behind her very red ears.

“Glad you could join us Ivan” Mr. Big respectfully addressed the snow leopard, who nodded back.

“Happy to be here. A little bit of happiness in an endless dark ocean makes it all a little more bearable” the snow leopard answered.

“Please sit” Antonio Big informed the special guests as the three regular mammals sat at the long table reserved for family.

A shrew waiter with snout snootily raised in the air delivered the seven-course meal to each guest at the family table. A snow leopard in a white kitchen outfit and chef’s toque, who bore a distinct resemblance to ZNN anchor Fabienne Growley served the three.

The starter was a creamy pumpkin soup served in a porcelain dish lined with gold. On the top were three croutons, sprinkled with cheddar cheese shavings.

With both Wilde and the snow leopard growing up with these dishes, using the formal utensils was second nature.

Judy struggled as she only ever had the one set of utensils to eat. Her family may not be dirt-poor, but they were not this well-off either.

“Word of advice, Miss Hopps. Start outward and steadily make your way to the centre” the suit-wearing snow leopard informed her as he picked up the bowl and began spooning the thick soup with the outermost spoon.

Once the sublime soup disappeared down the gullets of the guests, (Wilde polished it off in one gigantic slurp that amused no one) a Caprese salad was provided. The thin slices of mozzarella, sun-ripened tomatoes, and fragrant basil leaves were tastefully arranged into a bite-sized circle.

Judy’s first bite of the salad left her moaning at how good it was. She was soon brought back to earth by Nick’s chuckles on her right. On her left, the snow leopard had no outward reaction as he speared the column with the golden salad fork and knocked it back as gracefully as a duke would.

“Delicious as always” he had complimented the other snow leopard who had bit her own tail.

Their three plates were then taken away when these were emptied of the contents as the main course was now served. Judy sent a forlorn look at Nick’s plate as the fox did not touch the tomatoes, merely polishing off the cheese.

The main course turned Judy’s stomach. It looked to be a fish of some kind and while not nauseating, was not a dish that would be served to herbivores. She politely declined the fish and asked for the salad again.

“Of course, miss” the snow leopard replaced Judy’s fish dish with the divine Caprese salad.

“You could have called ahead, Miss Hopps. Then, a vegetarian option could be prepared” ‘Ivan’ gently rebuked her.

She did not rise to the bait, instead munching on her salad as she inwardly despaired of making her deadline.

“Ew, gefiltefish. My favourite” Nick snarked when the fish was placed in front of him. It appeared he was the only one with the fish as Ivan and everyone else had tuna.

“Be happy its kosher, Nicky” Ivan replied as he cut up the tuna fillets in front of him. Dipping a slice into the small porcelain cup with melted butter and lemon juice, the snow leopard then placed the skewer into his mouth. Chewing the delicious fish, he swallowed.

“Diane, you’ve outdone yourself!” Ivan complimented the snow leopard. “Come to The Savoy with me and be the sous chef!”

“No poaching my chef, Ivan. She trained under Grandmama for over a decade” Antonio good-naturedly fired back at the federal executioner.

If anything, the snow leopard’s tail twitched and she bit into it again.

Judy was now horribly confused as everything predators did both fascinated and horrified her.

The music being played changed to sweet tunes and a few couples moved to a cleared space in the centre to slowly dance the night away.

The second dish was nothing to write home about, it being ratatouille.

The third dish blew Judy away. It was sturgeon caviar from the Caspian sea. And with the casual joking of the snow leopard on her left with their host, cost a lot more than a simple police officer made in a year.  

Dessert consisted of slices of the shrew-sized wedding cake and a glass of port.  

Judy did not touch hers, feeling stuffed from all the food.

Nick carefully took the tiny fork and removed a dollop of cream from the cake. Placing the almost microscopic amount in his mouth, he nodded in approval as the flavour of mocha burst on his palate.

Ivan had the larger cake brought over and helped Fru-Fru slice it. He then cut a slice for himself, passing on the cake to the next bodyguard in the chain.

Nick was aghast at not being offered a slice and almost made his thoughts known on the matter, were it not for the soft click of a fire selector coming off safety.

As the three mammals sipped exquisite cups of Italian roasted coffee beans, Mr. Big finally explained who the missing mammal was in connection to him.

(Well, Judy almost spat out her coffee as it was much too bitter for her. Wilde enjoyed it the most like it was his last meal. Ivan had better-tasting ones back at his own house.)

“Otterton is my florist. He said he wanted to talk to me about something. That’s why I sent the car to pick him up. But, he never arrived” Antonio ended the tale with a sad shake of his head.

“Because he was attacked?” Judy seized onto the most likely explanation.

“No” Antonio Big countered, “HE attacked. Tore up the car, scared my driver half to death. And vanished. Into the night”.

“Oh” Judy paused in her notetaking as she tried to make sense of it all.

“Mateo, have a car sent to the last known address of one Renato Manchas. He’s our witness to this case. Take Sheffield and Carmichael. Bring some shields along” Ivan spoke into a pawheld microphone.

“Officer Hopps, Mister Wilde, I have the most unfortunate task of asking you to come with me. Antonio, thank you for the meal and the coffee” Ivan told the others as he stood from his chair. Judy and Nick looked aghast that they were being forcibly shoved off. Antonio Big only nodded.

As Judy was spooling up for a loud protest, she was immediately shut down by the sight of a federal badge being flashed in her face.

“Domestic terrorism falls under federal jurisdiction. We will be taking this away from the ZPD. For now, go home and sleep off the excitement. I will loop you in with our findings and state in my report that your aid has helped tremendously” Ivan informed the downtrodden Officer Hopps.

“What do you mean Hopps is staying at The Grand Pangolin Arms?” Ivan’s next statement chilled Officer Hopps’ blood as she walked away.

“Then, get her out of there! That is not on the list of approved ZPD apartments!” all the blood drained from the rabbit’s ears and face as she rushed back to the snow leopard.

“What does that mean? My things and my deposit?” Officer Hopps begged the snow leopard.

Chapter Text

“Shadow Team, go!” the order came down the wire as the breaching team got in position at 3200 Tujunga Drive.

Just outside the domicile of one Renato Manchas, two sets of breaching teams had stacked up. Upon receiving the green light, one team smashed the door open with a battering ram and tossed in a flashbang. The detonation in such an enclosed space sent the snoozing panther reeling from the concussive blast wave.

Before he could get any conscious effort to run, he was tackled by two mammals in armoured gear. Immediately, the panther tried to fight back only to have his paws yanked painfully backwards and a set of steel bracelets applied on his wrists.

A mechanical voice cried out, “Show me his face!” and Renato was roughly handled to look into the bright torchlight of another armoured mammal.

“That’s him” the same mechanical voice responded and the panther was yanked to his feet. As he was being led out, an alert member of the breach team noticed movement along a branch behind the apartment.

The radioed cry of “SNIPER!” was met by another mammal raising their ballistic shield to protect the witness. The projectile harmlessly splattering on it, leaving a blue stain on the ceramic surface. The rest of the mammals bodily hauled the panther out of his apartment and across the rickety bridge to several waiting black SUVs. Manchas was muzzled and shoved into the middle car which took off at high speed as the primary assault team was laying waste to the tree branches opposite.

The rat-tat-tat sound of fully automatic fire enough to jar the neighbours awake and have them dial 9-1-1.

“Shadow Team, we have a lock on your position. Thermals on the drone indicates a mammal moving at speed through the dense underbrush for the lower levels. We believe the mammal wishes to intercept your package” the neutral voice of the airborne controller informing the Black Ops team of their quarry’s next move.

“Copy that, Overlord. Proceeding to lower levels now” Agent Coffee replied as the wolf gave the paw signal for the rest of the team to mount up.

Two of the five remaining SUVs took off at high speed with sirens wailing and lights flashing as they chased the package. A sunroof opened on one of these and a crew mounted weapon appeared. The gunner wearing a HUD connected to the circling drone above. Keeping his right thumb depressed on the button, he felt the electric motor hum as the multi-barrelled weapon began to spin.

The moment the target appeared on the IR scope, he moved to depress the left button. The rotary cannon then spat out 7.62mm NATO ball and tracer rounds at the target. With 6,000 RPM, the cannon would chew its way through the three ammo cans in less than a minute.

On the IR feed, white-hot streaks started impacting the ground and cover of their target. The gunner only stopped when the target quit moving.

“Target down” the gunner radioed in as more troops were airlifted to the scene. The gunner slid back down with the weapon and continued escorting the dazed panther to the extraction site.  

“Talk to me boys and girls” the airborne controller known as Overlord queried the silent operatives as they surrounded a downed mammal.

“Sorry about that Overlord. We got an additional mammal in custody. Looks to be a male hornless ram, sir” the agent on the ground informed the circling patroller.

=====================================================================================

“Sorry about that Overlord. We got an additional mammal in custody. Looks to be a male hornless ram, sir” the agent on the ground informed the circling patroller.

At the Joint Special Operations Command in Beaverbrook AFB, three mammals looked at each other. One wore the uniform tunic of a United States of Animalia Air Force general officer; the other wore the uniform of a United States of Animalia Army general officer.

The third was a wolf dressed in civilian attire. The only identifying features were the floppy right ear and the eyepatch on his left eye. The wolf was also using a cane to facilitate movement.

“Get me a clear shot of that ram’s face” former Justice Secretary Nicholas Furie remarked to the warrant officer on the communications terminal, a coyote who just nodded assent.

“Arrow Team One, provide a visual of the ram” the coyote forwarded the message to the ground team.

In response, a light was shown onto the ram’s bleeding snout as his head was turned towards the camera.

“Well. Well. Well” Mr. Furie remarked as the ram’s profile came into stark view. “So, that’s where you hid Sergeant Ramses”.

“What?” USAF General Arkansas moved forward and barked an order at the computer technician. “Big screen, now!”

“Aye, big screen” the enlisted remarked as he tapped a few keys and the ram’s smallish picture was enlarged to fit the entire screen in the Ops Centre.

“Jeebus Christ!” USA General Ironsides remarked as the bison rubbed his tired eyes with one of his hooves. “Mr. Furie. You were right. Seems like our AWOL sergeant did a lot more than skip his deployment to Bosnia” the bison admitted as he took out his billfold and passed a $100 bill to the smirking wolf.

“How do you want to play this, sir? This won’t look good no matter how much we spruce it” General Arkansas remarked to the former Justice Secretary.

“Easiest way is to just kill him. Problem is, that still leaves who he works for. This motherfucker is going to sing like a canary when the Agency is through with him” former Secretary Furie remarked.

“And then what sir?” General Ironsides asked his former commanding officer.

“Then, we give all the information we pumped out of him over to Ivan and watch him tear the organisation apart” the wolf grinned.

“If I wasn’t sure before that your bogeymammal was scary, you damn well made sure of it now” General Ironsides commented as he slumped into the office chair behind him.

“Corporal, if you would be so kind as to patch me through to Shinigami’s cell phone?” former Secretary Furie informed the junior enlisted manning a switchboard.

“With all due respect, sir, that’s a closed system. I need an access code” the airmammal replied after a few keyboard presses.

“Type this in for me. I’m not a motherfucking spring chicken anymore” the wolf commented as he approached the workstation.

The airmammal, a female ocelot, paused her typing as she waited for the wolf to make his way over.

“Ready, Miss Lotec?” Mister Furie asked his impromptu typist.

“Ready, Mister Secretary” the ocelot replied in a respectful tone.

“Access System Node Bravo Charlie Zulu. Authorisation: Kilo Lima Delta One Four Seven Eight” Mister Furie pinpointed the exact node and the authorisation to slide in. As Airmammal Lotec punched in the information, her screen which was showing the red ‘Denial of Access’ page switched over to green.

“Okay, sir. We’re in” the ocelot informed the wolf who only smiled with all teeth. It took all the ocelot had not to shiver at how off the smile was.

“Excellent, send this message to his line: ‘Doug Ramses in custody. Agency will do the pumping. Mission Directives updated. Find out who he works for. I’ll be in touch’. Send that” the wolf stood up using his cane and slowly made his way to the rear of the room.

After some furious typing on the ocelot’s end, she informed the former Justice Secretary “Sent”.

“Good. Cause this old feller needs his nap” the wolf snarked back as he snuggled onto General Arkansas’ armchair and passed out.

=====================================================================================

I checked my phone when I heard it beep in my jacket pocket. Flipping it open to read a message, I was stunned to see that it was blank. As I was contemplating if I was slowly going mad, I remembered that I had another phone and removed that from an inseam in my suit.

Opening this phone took a lot longer than the Samsung Lambdroid phone the office got for me.

For one thing, this phone was built like a brick.

For another, it wanted a drop of blood to verify identity. If someone else had taken the phone and attempted to interface with it to bypass the biometric lock, the phone would send its GPS coordinates followed by detonating in that mammal’s face.  

Placing my thumbpad on the home button, I felt the soft bite of the needle as it took a sample. Far used to it by now, the pain was negligible. Upon the phone’s verification, a singular message caught my attention. Tapping the screen to access the messaging service, I was met with the two-sentence statement ‘Doug Ramses in custody. Agency will do the pumping. Mission Directives updated. Find out who he works for. I’ll be in touch’.

Closing my eyes as I tried to stem the approaching migraine, I opened them once more to type out an ‘Understood’ before I turned the phone off again.

This case just got a whole lot stranger.

I needed a larger cup of coffee than what I got from Antonio.

=====================================================================================

Doug was not having a good day.

The message from his employer about a potential loose end needing to be dealt with had just been the start of his bad day.

As he waited for the token bunny to show up at the residence of the limousine driver, Renato Manchas, he had lost his grip on his phone and it had fallen into oblivion. He had shrugged his shoulders, he had a dozen more phones just like it back at his laboratory.

When he heard the screech of tires, he thought that the rabbit had arrived. Which was odd since her traffic cart would have difficulty climbing the steep and slick Rainforest roads. Assembling his rifle just in case he was wrong and the bunny had indeed showed up, a niggling feeling of unease began to permeate his system.

He ignored it, as he did many times before. Nine times out of ten, the sense of unease was always something minor.

He should have listened to his one. It would have had given him time to escape his current predicament.

But, no, he had been blinded by the pay-out.

To his shock, as he looked through the scope, what came in through the door was not the rabbit. It was a full-blown SpecOps team. And, they were there for his target!

Without even thinking about it, he had brought the rifle up, loaded the nighthowler cartridge and fired at the back of the barely clothed panther.

To no avail, as his pellet shattered on a ballistic shield. The mammals managed to spirit the panther away and lay down accurate automatic fire in his direction. Unlike his own air-powered rifle, the other side were using gas-operated automatic weapons and they had a lot of it.

As he scrambled to escape the deadly barrage, and attempt to intercept the panther at ground level, he was immediately blindsided by stinging hornets.

His first attempt to blend in with the darkness was foiled as his cover was shredded in seconds.

Dodging to behind a large boulder, he risked sneaking a peek at who was firing and almost lost an ear with the tracer fire pouring in.

A helicopter soon hovered overhead and something cylindrical was fired at his hooves. He had just enough presence of mind to register it as a flashbang before his world went white.

When he had finished coming to, he was muzzle to muzzle with a respirator-wearing predator. He wanted to headbutt the mammal, but was stopped by the feeling of cold steel against his neck. He wanted to taunt one of them before another slammed a rifle butt into his face, dazing him.

A different mammal soon appeared and with a mechanical voice made him stare directly into a flashlight.

A black bag was then placed on his head, his hooves cinched shut, a muzzle on his own, and a sharp prick in his side before it all faded to black.

Chapter Text

When Doug managed to clear the tranquiliser from his system, he was not surprised to find himself pawcuffed to a steel table in an interrogation room. The room he was in had no easily identifiable escape points besides the two large two-way mirrors.

“Thank you, I’ll be in touch” a voice behind him made the hitmammal want to turn around, but knew that showing any kind of reaction would be tantamount to giving whatever these … people wanted.

“Morning, Mister Ramses” the chipper tone of the last mammal Douglas Ramses wanted to ever see stepped through the open door and it clanged shut behind him.

Instead of answering, he simply glared at FBI Deputy Director Ivan Uncia.

The snow leopard was wearing a relatively expensive Armani pinstriped suit and pants. For a mammal who should be pushing sixty, the snow leopard did not look a day over forty.

“Is this seat taken?” the deputy director rhetorically asked the bound ram as he sat in the chair opposite.

“Do you know why you are here, Mister Ramses?” the snow leopard continued to indulge in pleasantries, unknowing or uncaring of the ram’s vow of silence.

“Silent treatment, huh? What are you four?” Deputy Director Uncia continued to prod the silent ram.

“No matter. I managed to pull your service record. You know we can do this the easy way or the hard way” the snow leopard placed a voluminous folder that was packed with the service history and commendations of the mammal across from him, “All these awards can be forfeited for dereliction of duty and desertion”

“Especially this one, the Distinguished Service Cross. Don’t you have to perform a suitable act of daring to be awarded this one? Or perhaps this Congressional Medal of Honour when you took out a sniper nest singlehandedly in Desert Storm?” the snow leopard continued to press the silent ram.

With a sigh, the snow leopard closed the ram’s service record jacket and made to stand up. It seems that it would have to be the hard way. He had high hopes that the highly educated ram would take the easier route, but alas.

“I really don’t like doing this, Mister Ramses. But apparently, you leave me no choice” the snow leopard sighed good-naturedly as he took out a leather-bound tool kit and unrolled it on the steel table.

“Perhaps, if I loosened your tongue more with the Chechen face lift?” the snow leopard continued as he put on a pair of black, rubber gloves and reached for a thin wire with a ring on each end.

“Or would you like me to begin with the Taliban testicular teaser” a tool that could generously be described as an oversized pair of pliers was taken from its strap and placed on the table.

Doug’s pulse began to quicken as each implement of torture was laid out on the table. He had surmised that the bureau deputy head would slowly wear him down, not proceed directly to torture.

“If you were not a citizen of Animalia, I could most definitely use one of these on you. Alas, you are. So, I have to take more unconventional methods. Hold him down boys” the snow leopard admitted freely as he held up the Baghdad pleasure pole which was anything but, and Doug began to relax a smidge.

That proved to be in error as he was then forcibly grappled, and held in place by the largest pair of polar bears he had ever seen. No matter how much he struggled in one’s grasp, the other had managed to undo his trousers, pants, and shirt with ease.

Doug began to shiver as he felt the cold in the room seemingly increase. The buzz of an electric shearer further gave him cause for concern.

He struggled even more in a bid to escape, but the polar bear only had to transfer some of his weight onto Doug’s chest and the ram was pinned in place as the other bear shaved him from head to hoof.

He tried to bite the bear in the arm, only for the bear to chuckle and affix a muzzle onto his face.

HIM! THE GREATEST HITMAMMAL THAT EVER GRACED THESE SHORES!

In just a few seconds, the fluffy coat of Douglas Ramses was shorn away, and he was left as naked as the day he was born. The polar bear holding him down finally let him up and Doug attempted to snap at the bear, only to get a meaty slap across his snout.

“We will be back Mister Ramses. Maybe in a short while, you will be feeling more charitably towards your potential position” the snow leopard packed up the folder, toolkit and departed the interrogation room with the two polar bears. The door shut behind them with a solid clang.

The shorn off wool lay on the floor for quite some time.

Douglas Ramses’ skin began to itch from the cold and the tough ram began to shiver. The only parts of him that still had wool were his wrists and his crotch.

The ram started to sniffle as his body tried to compensate for the lack of wool by increasing skeletal muscle contractions.

He knew that someone was observing him through the two-way mirrors. He could practically feel their eyes on his person.

Besides the hum of the air-conditioning system, the only sound in the room came from his own breathing. While the cold was nothing for him when he was clothed and fully wooled, now it was beginning to grate on him.

As he thought of crying out for someone to increase the temperature, the door to the room opened and the snow leopard stepped on through.

“Still wanting to keep your silence, Mister Ramses?” the snow leopard asked, holding two Styrofoam cups with hot liquid steaming.

“G-g-g-g-g-go to hell!” Doug spoke his first words since his being taken into custody.

The snow leopard blew on the surface of one cup before taking a loud sip.

“Ah, nothing beats a cup of hot chocolate on a wintry morning” the snow leopard continued to wax on about his drink.

“Fuck you!” the ram bleated out.

“I’m sorry you feel that way” the snow leopard replied, before tossing the scalding hot liquid in the other cup onto the nearly-closed cuts on the ram’s skin.

“FFFFFFFUUCCCCCKKKKK!” Doug bleated in agony as the liquid burned his sensitive skin.

“I can do this all day, Mister Ramses. Or should I call you Señor Escobar?” the snow leopard smirked as he sipped from his own cup.

“BASTARD SON OF A WHORE!” Doug screamed out at the snow leopard, wrists still painfully bound to the steel table as  he struggled to escape.

Doug suddenly bleated out in pain as the snow leopard painfully pulled at his right ear and growled into it. “Tell me who you work for and you can walk. Continue to resist and we move to removal of appendages. Your choice, sheep”

Doug was then roughly slammed headfirst onto the table as the snow leopard exited the room in a huff.

When Doug next got clarity, he was wearing a hospital gown and strapped onto an operating table. There was something dripping onto his forehead, but he could not swipe it away. His wrists and ankles were bound.  

As the ram looked above his head, a drop of water fell from a bucket and landed on the bridge between his eyes. Looking around, he made out the shadowy forms of mammals surrounding him.

“What do you people want?” he cried out, before he was forcefully shoved back onto the headrest of the table and a cloth gag was tied between his upper and lower jaws. The bucket was then emptied down his open mouth as the ram bleated in distress, trying to evade the flow by twisting his head to and fro.

“Had enough, Mister Ramses?” the same snow leopard asked boredly as he came into view, munching on a turkey sandwich. The smell of meat nauseating the ram.  

“Bastard!” the ram spat out weakly as he coughed.

In response, the snow leopard merely snapped his fingers, and another bucket was brought into view. The sloshing sound of liquid made Doug’s heart skip a beat.

Surely, they wouldn’t?

“It seems Mister Ramses is being uncooperative lately. I do believe he is thirsty” the snow leopard chuckled darkly as the other mammals did too, taking another bite of his delicious sandwich.

The bucket was hoisted once more above the ram’s open muzzle. Doug’s scream was cut off by gurgling as the bucket was tilted down the open gullet.

“Looks rather full, doesn’t it?” the snow leopard commented on the ram’s ballooning stomach.

A dark chuckle his only response from the polar bear beside him as the larger predator approached.

“No more. No more” the ram gurgled out. His pupils went wide as the bear placed a wooden board on his stomach and began to push down steadily.

“No. No. No!” the ram sobbed before he vomited water and blood onto the floor beneath the table from the pressure the bear was applying to his full stomach.

“I’ll ask you again, Mister Ramses. Who do you work for?” the snow leopard leaned in, brandishing a scalpel.

“No. No. No” the ram blubbered as he tried to pull away from the demonic sadist.

“Pity. Work him over” the suited mammal straightened up and adjusted his work suit, as he gave orders to the others to continue the waterboarding.

“One way or another, Mister Ramses. You will give us who you work for. One way or another” the snow leopard continued as he exited the surgery.

The ram screamed out as a loud crack emanated in the room.  

=====================================================================================

Time seemed to drag on for Doug.

His left arm was now useless, dislocated at the shoulder joint by a particularly strong punch from the polar bear torturer.

His lower right leg was shattered. He was grateful that he could not move the limb, but could feel jagged edges of bone rubbing against the skin there.

Without immediate treatment, he would never be able to hold a rifle or walk without a limp for the rest of his life.

Sometime during the torture, he had urinated on himself. The acrid smell wafting up to his nose.

The door to the cell opened and Doug whimpered at the noise.

“Ready to tell us who you work for, Mister Ramses?” the snow leopard reappeared with a plate of salad greens and croutons. It looked appetising to the starved ram, but he voiced none of his emotions.

“I’ll take it to my grave” the ram spat out.

“Very well” the snow leopard agreed. “Because we already took custody of your two assistants, Jessie and James. They have a very brilliant confession that names you as the perpetrator. My, oh my. What a pickle we find ourselves in, Mister Ramses”.

“Woolter and Jessie should never have left Banyan Station” Doug snapped out.

The snow leopard’s face lit up and Doug knew he had let something slip.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Mister Ramses. We look forward to seeing you again” the snow leopard replied with a warm smile that did not reach his eyes.

“Wait!” the ram cried out before the snow leopard could set paw outside the open door. “It’s Bellwether. She’s behind all this!”

“Do tell” the snow leopard paused as he held up a paw to stop the polar bear from administering shock therapy. The bear was already approaching with two leads connected to a portable generator.

“She’s having me dart preds to make them go savage. Can’t see her angle. The money was good” the ram’s emotional dam had faltered and he spilled everything he had on the ringleader. “You have to believe me!” Doug pleaded.

“And where are these ‘savage’ preds being held?” the snow leopard asked with interest.

“I don’t know. The preds are gone when I report back to Bellwether!” the ram answered feebly.

“…” the snow leopard tsked as he turned to leave the mammal to his fate.

“You said I’d go free!” Doug pleaded with his torturer.

“You’re right. I did” the snow leopard snapped his fingers as the polar bear and another mammal dragged out the generator. Closing the door behind them, the snow leopard grinned sadistically at the ram.

“I just never said what type of free” the snow leopard leaned in and tore open the horrified ram’s throat with his claws.

Chapter Text

The outer door buzzed in the airlock as the suited snow leopard stepped out, blood dripping from his claws.

“Was that really necessary?” FBI Deputy Director Ivan del Morte asked his doppelganger with a smirk. The death of the shooter was inconsequential. They now had the names they could go after. The interrogation, and subsequent confession, would be a lot softer than what the dying ram experienced.

“Of course, sir. Secretary Furie authorised any and all means necessary to extract information” the other pointed out as they removed the bloodied gloves from their paws.

“You have a trace on the phone found in the river?” I asked a technician via video chat, working on the device in question.

“Not yet sir. The device suffered a loss of structural integrity and its circuits suffered catastrophic malfunction” the technician replied as she deconstructed the phone, alternating removing pieces and placing said pieces on a stainless-steel rack to dry out.

I checked my watch and saw that I still had three hours before the sun rose at 0645.

“Alright, Alan. Loop me in with what you have corroborated with Doug’s story” I informed the ‘snow leopard’ opposite me, stifling a yawn.

“Can do, sir” my doppelganger nodded his assent, his striped paws now visible as I made my exit from the facility.

I walked away from one set of interrogation rooms. I was waved through two set of checkpoints and moved towards a staff lounge. I peeked through the small window inset in the door and I almost cooed at the cute sight within.

For all his bluster about not trusting prey, Nick had his arms wrapped around the snoozing Judy Hopps as the two lay curled up in a lion-sized armchair. Two cooling small-mammal mugs on the table beside them meant that either Wilde or Hopps had snatched a cup to stay awake.

I brought up the Bureau-issued phone and snapped a picture of the two mammals embracing. Nick’s snout rested in the spot between the rabbit doe’s ears while Hopps’ arms had wrapped around the tod sometime as they slept.

As much as I wanted the future lovebirds to sleep, and accrue much needed blackmail from their positions, I would have to discuss some things with both mammals in private.

Squaring my shoulders, I loudly opened the door and walked into the lounge. I coughed for added effect.

True to form, Judy Hopps leapt up by using Nick’s chest as a springboard. Nick merely rubbed his pained chest and scowled at the rabbit.

“We weren’t doing anything” the duo spoke simultaneously when they noticed me standing there, as if I was the headmaster and they the naughty students.

“What the two of you do in your off time is none of my business” I told them laconically, instead of pushing the needle in further by asking when they got so chummy.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about” Nick interjected, head probably full of cotton from a rude awakening. Nick was usually more glib than that.

“Sweet Cheese and Crackers!” Judy muttered as her ears turned red as I pointed out the security camera in the room.

“Come along, Miss Hopps. We still have to sort out where you will be staying for the near future” I directed the bunny out into the silent corridor.

A sudden tug on my luxurious tail made me pause as a red fox tod was hugging it.

“Soft pillow” the fox tod muttered as he wrapped his arms and legs around it. Shrugging my shoulders, I let my tail hang loose and dragged the recalcitrant appendage along with its passenger.

I led the way to the empty office space of one Major Crafton, a roe buck who was out on his annual migration.

I expected it to be empty when I pushed the door open.

It was not.  

As the musky smell of sex hit my sensitive nose, I flicked on the light and the mammals inside froze. 

Laid out on the major’s once-pristine desk were a red vixen and a marble fox tod. The tod had managed to insert himself into the vixen in such a way that they appeared to have knotted. As the male tried to scoot away, he dragged the vixen along.

“MY EYES!” screamed Judy as she dashed out into the corridor.

Nick immediately high-tailed it after the rabbit, reluctantly letting go of my tail.  

I remained in the office doorway, blocking the exit for both foxes in coital bliss.

“MPs to Major Crafton’s office” I radioed in with a portable I had been given by one of the guards. “I repeat. MPs to Major Crafton’s office. I have two mammals breaking the uniform code”.

The thunder of hooves down the once-silent passageway was all the impetus the two mammals inside needed to attempt to pull free from each other. The sudden yip of pain from both meant that the knot was quite a recent development.

“Sir!” a breathless warthog appeared at my side in the uniform of an MP and saluted. “You called for an MP?”

“Matter of fact, I did. Proof is inside. You may want to radio in for a blanket or towel for the female” I replied, dropping my voice to the warthog with sergeant stripes.

“Right you are sir” the warthog nodded as he called it in. “This is Sergeant Shavers, I need a wolf-sized blanket at Major Crafton’s office in the Red Zone. Also, a medic”

“Sergeant?” I had began to walk away when the thought occurred to me, “Have you seen either a red fox or a grey rabbit in this corridor?”

“Down the hall and to the left, sir. Colonel Wilkins’ office” the warthog informed me as a stag hurriedly made his way over to us, a rolled-up blanket carried under his armpit. I flattened myself against the wall to allow the stag to pass.

When the stag had done so, I resumed my unhurried pace to the base commandant’s office.

Following the warthog’s instructions, I tracked the scent trail of embarrassed rabbit all the way to the open office door of Colonel Alberto Wilkins.

“Good morning, Deputy Director” the panther greeted me with a soft smile as he prepared two cups of coffee.

“Good morning, Colonel. Sorry to intrude” I reciprocated the greeting and added an apology.

“Not to worry, I was already up. Think you can join me for a light PT jog?” the panther asked, dressed in a round neck shirt and PT shorts.

I glanced down at my coat, tie, and trousers. “In this outfit?” I asked as I gestured incredulously at my full wear.

“Ten bucks says I can beat you to the C-130 parked at Hangar C” the colonel offered.

“Ten bucks won’t cover the dry cleaning for this suit” I answered in the driest possible voice as the colonel snickered.

“Bah! Look at us, gabbing like old mammals!” the panther joked as he placed one cup of coffee on the table while he took the other in his right paw.

I politely refused to point out that the colonel was old. His black fur already had spots of white. My own grey fur hid the white parts well.

I took a polite sip of the offered coffee and my tired eyes lit up.

“After all these years, you finally managed to grow a decent crop!” I congratulated the colonel with a backhanded compliment.

The panther merely rubbed the back of his headfur as he chuckled ruefully. “My mate figured out I was using robusta beans instead of arabica. I could never tell the difference. Coffee is coffee” the panther replied as he continued to sip at his cup.

“Spoken like a true soldier” I chuckled as I raised the mug in mock salute, knowing the colonel’s previous disastrous forays into coffee crafting had left even the base chaplain shaking his horned head at the ‘unholy concoction’. The colonel knew where my thoughts led and he raised his own mug in solidarity as we continued to drink.

We drank in companionable silence for a bit, before the panther broke it with a question. “But, you’re not here to discuss my latest foray into coffee. What do you want to ask?” Colonel Wilkins was nothing if not direct.

“I was going to ask you if it would be alright to rent out your old Zootopian apartment to the grey rabbit in ZPD blue. Apparently, she has been staying at a known den of iniquity as it is the cheapest she could afford” I informed him, knowing that there were other spare apartments if the panther said no.

His was just the most furnished.

“What do you need my permission for? You own the building” Colonel Wilkins tilted his head in the canine manner of confusion.

“Ah…” I stalled before I recovered the thought process, “but it is good practice to let former tenants know in case they want to come back for their old haunts and belongings”.

“You kept my apartment from my captain’s days?” Colonel Wilkins asked incredulously.

“I don’t know why. Maybe for the nostalgia?” I answered truthfully as I enjoyed the black cup of coffee. I lost count of how many I already consumed.

“She can have it. Just box what she can’t use. I doubt I can even fit inside anymore” Colonel Wilkins waved his paw, brushing aside my concerns like smoke.

“Will Molly agree to you giving up the apartment?” I pressed, knowing that the panther’s mate was quite the pack rat.

“Agree to what?” a sleepy female voice joined our conversation as a lioness with rollers in her fur popped into the outer office. The lioness was wearing a fluffy pink bathrobe and bright yellow slippers on her feet.

“Is that my coffee I smell?” she continued as she shuffled to the beeping coffeemaker, ignoring everyone for a sip of morning ambrosia.

“Dear, meet the FBI Deputy Director Ivan del Morte. Deputy Director, my mate for the past two decades”

“How do you do, Director?” Molly sleepily shook my extended paw as she snatched her husband’s cup and took a gulp.

“That’s the stuff” she muttered as she moved over to the coffeemaker to pour herself a cup with her husband’s mug. The black panther merely smiled indulgently at his wife.  

“I am well, Mrs. Wilkins. How are your cubs faring?” I responded pleasantly.

If Alan had any updates, my phone would chirp. I could afford to waste some time.

“Amy’s in her second year of internal medicine residency at Savannah General. Peter is walking the beat in Savannah, and Hannah is probably drooling on her law books” came the easy answer from the sleepy lioness. “Why’s there a fox and rabbit snoozing on my couch?” she asked as she meandered her way back to us.

“I left the door open to the living room, didn’t I?” the colonel winced at the barbed question.

“Molly, I came here to ask for your husband’s permission to rent out his old apartment in Zootopia. Are you willing to give it up?” I pressed the sleepy lioness before she built up a head of steam.

“Whatever for? I thought he gave it up when he was assigned here?” Molly blinked her eyes as she locked her gaze on her husband.

“Apparently, he never dropped by the leasing office with the keys. As he is a friend, I have instructed my building manager not to collect any rent for the last twelve years” I informed the lioness.

“Twelve years?” she shot up, wide awake now. “We owe twelve years in rent because my idiot forgot to turn over the keys? Is that why the FBI is here?”

“Now, now. Molly. It’s not what you think” the panther attempted to placate his wife before she roared in his face.

“Mrs. Wilkins” I drew myself up to full height while I addressed the fuming lioness. “I am not here to arrest your husband for the overdue rent. I am here to ask if he is willing to turn over the lease to a new tenant. The building in question, and the apartments within, belongs to my leasing company”.

“Why didn’t you say so?” the lioness muttered as she focused her glare at me. Her husband giving a soft sigh of relief.

I refused to answer with the knee-jerk response of “I DID say so”. Instead, I settled on a more diplomatic “We were leading up to that topic when you arrived”.

“I apologise on behalf of my idiot husband. Please don’t take it against him” Molly patted my paw with her left as she waited for her husband to move.

“What are you waiting for Alberto? Get the keys!” Molly informed her husband, who sheepishly rubbed the back of his head and went back into their shared living quarters.

“Do you want anything for breakfast?” Molly asked me as she stood up again. “It’s quite rare that you are in Animalia, after all” she added.

“Not right now, Molly. I still have to see Miss Hopps to her new apartment” I informed the lioness. I made an error when I informed her “I can always grab a meal at Jenny’s (Denny’s)”.

“You will do no such thing!” she thundered out as she stood up and disappeared into the kitchen. “I will not have my husband’s friend …” as her voice cut off by a door slamming shut.

I calmly sipped the remainder of my coffee as it had gotten cold. My right ear twitched as I heard the creak of a door opening.

The door to the outer office creaked open and Harry’s head poked in. “Is Molly gone?” he whispered as he looked wildly about for his choleric wife.

“In the kitchen. Preparing a to-go breakfast for me, Wilde and Miss Hopps” I answered as I looked sadly at the now empty mug.

“I found the keys on her keychain. I don’t think she even recognised what they were” Alberto Wilkins dropped the keys into my open palm. I placed the keys into my breast pocket and gave out a yawn.

Which promptly summoned Molly from the kitchen.

She was still wearing her rollers and bathrobe. On top of her bathrobe, she had thrown on an apron and was holding a spatula in her right paw.

“Deputy Director, did you want your eggs scrambled or over easy?” she asked from the open doorway to the kitchen.

“Surprise me” I answered with an easy smile.

She smiled back and dashed back into the kitchen.

“She’s remarkably spry” I commented to Alberto as I turned around and the panther was no longer there.

The sneaky large cat had popped out for his morning jog as I conversed with his wife. As revenge, I would give Molly a laser pointer to annoy the hell out of her husband.

“Oh no you don’t, Wilde” I muttered as I grabbed the bushy brush of the fox as he sniffed the heavenly aroma wafting in from the kitchen. Said fox then began to angrily gekker at me for denying him a shot at food.

I dropped his tail and switched to holding the fox by his scruff. I needed to be quick about it as Wilde could disappear at the drop of a hat.

Trailing behind Wilde was a sleepy-eyed rabbit doe who stopped at my chair and continued to blink her amethyst eyes blearily.

“Bobby? When did you get into my apartment?” Judy Hopps sleepily asked me as she tried to clamber up the chair.

I tapped the Bluefang in my ear to alert Mateo. The jaguar kept nocturnal hours and spent most of the day asleep.

“¿Sí, señor?” Mateo asked. [Yes, sir?]

“¿Puedes ponerme el nombre de Bobby? Pídele ayuda al Agente Penumbra si la necesitas” I informed my pilot and all-around mammal. [Can you run the name Bobby for me? Ask Agent Penumbra for help if you need it.]

“¿Puedo preguntar quién mencionó a Bobby?” Mateo asked somewhat distractedly as I heard the tapping of keys in the background. [May I ask who mentioned Bobby?]

“Judy Hopps lo hizo. ¿Es un conocido de la infancia?” I answered in Spanish. [Judy Hopps did. Is it a childhood acquaintance?]

“I have sent it to your phone, sir. I will take a quick nap if you need me to come pick you up” Mateo answered in English as the line died.

As I was having my short conversation with Mateo, Judy had given up climbing the chair and fell asleep on her back.

Before I could snap a picture of her snoozing, Molly exited the kitchen with three sets of Tupperware. The smallest one was probably for Judy Hopps.

She deposited these in front of me and provided a cloth bag in which to carry them.

“Did Alberto give you the keys?” she stage whispered to me.

“Yes, Molly. He did” I nodded at her.

“That’s great. When you see him on your way out, tell him that’s he’s sleeping on the couch until next week” Molly let me know with an innocent-looking smile on her face.

=====================================================================================

I departed Beaverbrook AFB on board a private jet bound for Zootopia and then Andrews AFB.

For the 1-hour flight, I tucked into the delectable meal that Molly had prepared for us. As Nick and I were both carnivores, our meals had three turkey sausages each. To complement that, Molly had added a fluffy scrambled egg, blanched carrot strips, string beans, and a mashed potato. Our dessert was an apple for me and a banana for Wilde.

Judy Hopps’ breakfast was different.

As she was an obligate herbivore, Molly had prepared a vegetable omelette and mashed potatoes. Some chopped up lettuce leaves, cherry tomatoes, and a small slice of cheddar completed the spread. Judy’s dessert was, fittingly enough, a carrot.

I smiled at the lioness’ thoughtfulness.

For all her bluster against foxes, she had provided me with one additional meal for Nick. Most mammals would give me two, one for me and the other for the rabbit.

I made a note to arrange something special for the married couple when their anniversary came up next year.

“Approaching Zootopia International Airport. Please ensure that all drinks and tray tables are in the upright position” the pilot spoke over the intercom as I gazed out at the lit-up city as the first rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon.

An Air Force flight attendant approached me and assisted in clearing up the Tupperware and utensils. I thanked her and she smiled back as she rushed to deposit the used items into the galley sink.

Fastening my seatbelt, I looked across the aisle to a still-snoozing fox and rabbit. As they slept, they held each other’s paws.

Putting the thought out of my mind, I looked out the porthole and watched strobe lights on the runway get closer.

I barely felt the thump as the wheels of the C-24 Nightstar made contact with the tarmac and we swiftly departed onto a taxiway for one of the private hangars.

The phrase ‘Smooth as silk’ drifted through my mind with how soft the landing was.

I watched as the pilots taxied straight into the unlit hangar. When the hangar doors shut fully, the lights in the facility turned on. I watched the ground crew perform a choreographed dance to get the bird fuelled up and ready to fly on to Andrews AFB.

Once the latch on the clamshell door was disengaged, I waited for the flight attendant inform us that we were able to deplane.

The only ones getting off in Zootopia were myself, Hopps, Wilde, and Agent Carmichael. The rest of the plane’s occupants would fly on to Andrews.

Unstrapping myself from the seat, I carried Wilde while Agent Carmichael carried Hopps down the stairs. We were met at the base of the stairs by another tactical security team.

“Agent Ramirez” I nodded at the maned wolf leading this team.

“Sir” the agent nodded back. “This way to the helicopter” they added as the team formed up around us.

“Very well, agent. Lead the way” I replied as Agent Carmichael, and I, kept pace with the brisk jog of the security team. My stomach grumbling at me not to sprint lest I lose my scrumptious breakfast.

“Duck” Agent Ramirez gave the antiquated instruction as we kept our heads low to avoid losing said heads to the sharp rotor blades of the Sikorsky UH-60 Blackhawk.

We lost an idiot agent the last time when they had cried out “Where?” and promptly lost their head as they approached with head unbowed.

As I secured Officer Hopps, Nick, and myself into the bucket seats of the helicopter, I was soon joined by Agent Carmichael, Ramirez and six other agents as they also strapped themselves in.

The doors slid closed, and the bird took off into the slowly brightening day. The rest of the agents piled into black SUVs and would take the land route to the apartment building.

I accepted the helmet intercom from the crew chief with a nod of thanks. Placing it on, I was glad that this helmet had the rounded ear shapes for felines and ursines. The canine versions felt uncomfortable for long periods of time.

“What do you have for me?” I asked Agent Ramirez as the maned wolf seemed nervous.

“Sir, we picked up Woolter White and Jessie McAbbee outside the abandoned Banyan Street Subway Station. The two named co-conspirators of Douglas Ramses from the interrogation” Agent Ramirez admitted nervously.

“And? You can’t be nervous just because you picked them up” I prodded the agent for more information. Alan might have sent the message to my phone, but it was turned off in the air.

“Sir, with all due respect,” another member of the security team took over, this one a white ram with round pupils and curving horns.

“Yes, Agent Bellwether?” I leaned in, curious what the Assistant Mayor’s cousin wanted.

“Arrow Team” the ram nodded at Agent Ramirez when he said it, “found a grow lab set up in a subway car. They have been growing Nighthowlers and concentrating it. Everything was confiscated and shipped to our secure facility at the Docks. Unfortunately, it seems that we missed a pellet or someone dropped a pellet, as two members of Sword Team have reverted to their feral roots”.

“Furthermore, the stain on the ballistic shield that Agent Coffee’s team used to protect Renato Manchas? It’s a match to the Nighthowler concentrate we seized from the subway car, sir” Agent Bellwether finished.

“Fuck me” I cursed as I rubbed a paw over my tired face.

Smooth sailing and WHAM! Motherfucking Murphy steps in.

“Sir, do you think we can get Doug Ramses to reverse whatever he did?” Agent Ramirez asked again over the intercom. The maned wolf was wringing her paws.

“He’s dead, Jim” Agent Carmichael answered for me when I looked away.

“What?” the maned wolf shrieked over the intercom. The feedback making everyone on the line wince.

“The former justice secretary authorised any means necessary for information. Douglas Ramses expired from injuries sustained” I informed the maned wolf coldly, burying my own flames of anger under a giant iceberg.

“But, he could have given us more!” Agent Ramirez sputtered as she fumbled her rifle.

“Either get with the program, Agent Ramirez or I drop you out of this helicopter!” I failed in burying my anger as I drew my pistol in one fluid motion and shot her dead centre.

The maned wolf slumped in her seat. The other agents held their hooves and paws away from their rifles in case I turned to them. 

“Check her” I informed the nearest agent beside the maned wolf, in this case Agent Bellwether. The ram undid his harness and placed his wrist against her neck.

“Still breathing. Pulse is strong” the ram reported back as he opened her uniform, and the slug was happily embedded in her bullet-resistant vest.

“Jesus Christ, sir” one of the other agents breathed out, their eyes wide behind the mask.

“I’ve had a long day. Anyone else want to try my patience?” I challenged the other agents, my pistol back in its holster.

The shaking of heads was all I got. The only affirmations came from Agents Bellwether and Carmichael who both voiced a firm “No, sir”.

For the remainder of the flight to the apartment building, there was silence on board.

If not for the whine of the turbines and chop of rotor blades, one could be forgiven that time stood still.

“Target building in sight” the pilot spoke over the intercom as he brought us lower.

“Touchdown” as the Blackhawk rested on the helipad.

The port door slid open, and we were greeted by kneeling wolves in the dull green gear of FBI HRT. The unit insignia prominently displayed on their chests.  

“Sir! We’re ready for you now” the European wolf agent in the lead, Special Agent August von Kaggerak, shouted to be heard over the twin turbines.

I undid my safety harness, as well as those keeping Nick and Judy in their seats.

I had my suspicions that they were both darted by Agent Carmichael before we left Beaverbrook AFB as neither had moved a muscle during the confrontation. My suspicions were confirmed when I found two bright green tranquiliser arrows under the seats in question.

Looking back at the agent, he only shrugged as he stepped off the chopper and made his way to the base of the helipad stairs.

I shrugged myself. It did not matter in the long run, anyway.

I handed over first Officer Hopps and then Nick Wilde to the waiting paws of HRT Special Agent von Kaggerak’s team.

I then slid the door of the Blackhawk shut and thumped on it twice.

“We’re good!” I shouted to the pilot who gave me a thumbs-up and the bird lifted into the morning sky.

As the sounds of the helicopter faded away, I allowed the wolf pack to cover me as I descended the stairs.

“Agent Carmichael?” I addressed the smug-looking painted hound.

“Sir?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, in a comical imitation of Dr. Evil from the Austin Plower movies.

“Special assignment for you” I whispered into the agent’s left ear as I tucked a flash drive into his left trouser pocket.

The wolf team was none the wiser as they moved around the stationary CIA agent.

When the painted hound patted his left trouser pocket, he found the drive and a folded note. After reading the note, the painted hound groaned as he dutifully ate the paper.

The note read: ‘Go to Chief of Police Adrian Bogo at Precinct One and inform him that his sheep officers are compromised. Enclosed in the drive is their involvement. Copies have already been made. Eat this note. You have until the morning briefing at 0830.’

The agent checked his watch and noted that the time was 0630. Precinct One’s roof was visible from where he was standing.

He smirked as his boss never said he had to use public transport to get there as he descended to the ground floor using the special lift tucked away inside a non-functional air-conditioning unit.

=====================================================================================

Judy Hopps slowly woke from her enforced slumber to the smell of brewing coffee. While not a fan of the bitter-tasting drink, her father swore by it to help jumpstart his mornings in the field.

The first thing that she noticed was that her bed was much too soft.

As her amethyst eyes shot open, she felt herself down and gave a sigh of relief that she was still fully clothed in her uniform.

She might have dozed off at the Big manor and they had provided her a bed for the night.

Her eyes almost closed again before she suddenly remembered that she was supposed to solve the Emmitt Otterton case.

She sprang up from the cozy bed, threw the blanket off her, and leapt to the floor. She was unaware that there was another occupant in the bed.

She then zipped to the door and turned the knob, only belatedly realising that someone had placed small-mammal adapters on the large-mammal door.

Bright light filled her vision, a change from the enforced darkness in what she was now just realising was a bedroom.

“Good of you to join us Officer Hopps” Deputy Director Ivan del Morte informed her as the snow leopard was sat on a luxurious couch in the living room. A saucer in his right paw as he slowly sipped from a porcelain cup in his left. The cup was then replaced on the saucer and the saucer returned to the table piled with breakfast foods.

“Uh…” Judy’s brain short-circuited as she watched mammals in green and black tactical gear move furniture and other items around the apartment.

“God is that Colombian roast I smell?” the smug, sleepy voice of her tormentor pierced her hearing. The bushy red tail of Nicholas Wilde entered her view briefly before the fox made a beeline for the snow leopard on the couch.

“Ah, ah, ah. Nicholas. Hopps first” the snow leopard lightly rapped the fox’s paws with a golden teaspoon as he made grabby motions at beautifully arranged dishes on the living room table.

“Hey, I just washed my paws! Now, they’re all sticky with sugar” Nick griped as the snow leopard poured himself another cup of coffee from the silver pot.

“Not my problem” the snow leopard replied without a smidge of worry as he sipped from the cup and smiled. Nick left grumbling as he searched for an empty sink to wash his paws in.

“Get on over here, Hopps. This veggie omelette won’t eat itself” the FBI Deputy Director broke Hopps’ concentration and she made her way over to the table.

“Here” the snow leopard gave Judy a paper plate and plastic utensils.

To her unasked question, the large predator replied in a posh accent “Unfortunately, most of the dishes and utensils here are sized for mammals like me. And while I would find it funny to watch you struggle using the utensils, that would not be very proper of me”.

The snow leopard blinked as if seeing her for the first time. “Oh, but where are my manners? I’m FBI Deputy Director Ivan del Morte” the snow leopard introduced himself as he extended his right paw out for a shake.

Instinctively, Judy placed her own paw inside the larger predator’s and gave it a firm shake. She was also pleased to note that the federal officer returned the action.

“Officer Judy Hopps, ZPD” she excitedly stated. Her energy from her first day coming back to her. As she took a breath to begin asking questions, the federal official merely raised his paw to halt her query.

“If you don’t eat Officer Hopps, I will have to throw out this wonderful spread. My budget won’t exactly wince, but knowing others could have partaken of it instead will be a tremendous hurt” the snow leopard informed her as he gestured at the veritable feast.

Unknowingly (Knowingly) pushing one of the Hopps Family’s hot button topics on food wastage, the snow leopard was right and the rabbit attacked the veggie omelette first.

“Marvelous choice, Officer Hopps” the snow leopard daintily clapped, and Judy blushed again. “I am partial to turkey sausage myself, but felt that the smell of meat would be off-putting to a mammal such as yourself”

“You thought right” Judy mumbled as her fellow predator officers back at the precinct had opened their lunches when she was walking by with her own meal, making her gag at the smell of cooked meat.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” the snow leopard asked with a hint of a snarl, a brief cloud of anger appearing on the bright face before vanishing again.

Judy could have sworn that the snow leopard had bared teeth, but she had blinked and he was back to smiling fanglessly.

“Nothing, nothing. Just some hazing between officers” Judy laughed the topic away. By the raised eyebrows of the FBI official, he was not convinced. To Judy’s immense relief, he did not push.

“Alright fellas! Miss Hopps has made her choice! Table’s open for breakfast!” the snow leopard hollered with a put-upon blue-collar voice at the assembled mammals in assault uniforms.

The rabbit squeaked in surprise as a surge of mammals demolished the fabulous spread in seconds. When the mammals had departed, the only thing left untouched was the silver tea tray of macarons. Pondering on why that was, the mystery soon solved itself when a grey spotted paw removed another pastry.

Judy felt like such an idiot! It was the boss’ meal! Duh!

She knew what that felt like when Clawhauser had snagged one of Chief Bogo’s smoothies from the breakroom. The squeals of the front desk receptionist when he blubbered his innocence in front of the furious chief had made Officer Fangmeyer come forward and admit it was her who had enjoyed the banana and blueberry smoothie that Chief Bogo was saving for his lunch.

The subsequent roar of “PARKING DUTY! THREE WEEKS!” was loud enough to rattle the glass pane windows of the precinct atrium. Judy had seen Ben comfort the tigress after Bogo had stomped out and the cheetah had offered to pay for lunch for two of those weeks.

She was a little lost in her memories that she failed to notice the snow leopard snapping his fingers in front of her face.

“Earth to Carrots, come in Carrots” a snarky voice shook her loose as she turned to rebuke the red mammal who was the bane of her existence.

“A bit touchy, aren’t we?” as the snow leopard hove into view. Judy’s mouth closed and her finger dropped. If she thought Chief Bogo was bad, she did not want to find out what a federal official could do to her for insubordination.

“No matter. Are you finished with your breakfast? You barely touched the blueberry pancakes” Deputy Director del Morte asked her.

“What? Blueberries?” Judy’s mind whirled as she scanned the now full table.

Full? Wasn’t it emptied by the other mammals?

But no, as if mocking her lack of wisdom, the table still looked untouched.

Judy’s mind short-circuited for the second time that morning.

=====================================================================================

I chuckled at the blue screen of death the rabbit was displaying. The table was emptied of its fruits.

To show her what a lack of situational awareness would cost, I had a holographic projection display the same image as before it was duly attacked and eaten by the hungry agents.

And Wilde.

The ravenous fox devoured his own body weight in fish and tofu, putting even Special Agent Xian to shame as the panda was unable to match the fox.

I checked my watch. The time read 0745.

There was still time to make it to Precinct One.

Also, as I watched my phone charge in the corner, it was time to assault the holding area for the missing savage mammals.

If Chief Bogo played ball, he could be the one fronting the cameras. If not, I smirked at the rabbit still processing the image, then the rabbit would stand in front of the press.

=====================================================================================

Judy finally snapped out of her funk when her phone began to ring in her pocket.

The corny default ringtone of he iCarrot made her gasp as she sought to find an angle that was not filled with agents. Giving up as the lone angle without had a red fox, she swiped to answer the Muzzletime call from her parents.

“Oh! Hey, it’s my parents!” Judy answered her phone with the FBI Deputy Director in the background of her call, looking unconcerned that he was on video.

“Hey there Jude! Jude the Dude!” her father’s customary greeting almost made her groan.

Had she answered this call at the precinct, it would be all over the ZPD network by noon with inveterate gossip Benjamin Clawhauser. Ben’s heart may be in the right place, but his need for gossip…

“Mister Stuart and Missus Bonnie Hopps, I take it?” Judy’s stomach dropped when her phone vanished from her paws.

“Yes?” came the worried tone of Judy’s mother.

“Is she in trouble with the FBI? Because I can assure you that our little trier had nothing to … ”  her father blubbered out, correctly deducing the federal seal pinned to the upper lapel of the snow leopard’s jacket.

“Your daughter is currently assisting with a federal investigation. I suggest that in the future it would be wiser to send a text than an outright call. It would be disastrous if the phone went off while she attempts stealth” the snow leopard gently rebuked her parents.

“I thought meter maids didn’t do investigations?” Stuart Hopps asked, making Judy’s hopes falter.

“They do when the mammal they ticketed has ties to an international crimes syndicate” the snow leopard answered stoically.

“Inter- OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW!” Stuart got out before he screamed in pain as his ear was yanked.

“HOLD THAT THOUGHT, STUART O’BRIEN HOPPS!” Bonnie suddenly yelled as she dragged her husband into a quieter part of the burrow.

A door could be heard slamming shut over the phone. Pawsteps could be heard over the phone as another door opened and shut.

“Everybody out, Mommy and Daddy need their privacy time!” Bonnie Hopps yelled out to a room full of rabbits.

By the simultaneous screams of “EEEEEEEWWWWWWWW!!!!!!” Judy assumed it was a room full of kits too young to listen to the sex talk. The thunder of feet as the young rabbits fled was telling.

So too was the door closing on them.

And the push of something to stop the door opening.

“Bonnie, what’s going on?” Stuart cried out as he rubbed his ear over the Muzzletime call.

“Go ahead Shinigami” Bonnie Hopps replied to the snow leopard.

Judy’s eyes goggled out as her own mother called the snow leopard with the same title that Nick did back at the manor. As she looked around, she noticed for the first time that all the agents were blocking convenient avenues of escape. The only mammal not in on the secret was Nick as he scowled from the dining room.

“Agent Nathaniel. How fares the settled life?” Shinigami asked the rabbit matron, bringing Judy’s attention back to the Muzzletime call.

Judy saw her mom’s lips set in a firm line to the question.

“I used to wake up screaming after my last mission. Stu kept me sane, made excuses for me” Bonnie admitted to a part of her life that no one else knew. “I had my first litter after that. There was no way I could go back to being an active roster agent with a family. I thought that after I weaned the little ones, I could return. But” as she turned to her sadly smiling husband, “life had other plans. So, I settled in Bunnyburrow. Thank you, Shinigami, for getting me out”.

“My pleasure, Bonnie” Shinigami bowed his head as he smiled at the couple. “The pension helped too, I suppose?”

“It was a godsend when our first potato crop failed. Let me tell you, had the money not arrived, we would have turned to a loan shark for funding the next season. We all know how predatory those bastards can be” Bonnie muttered the last part. “You’d think your own brother would happily lend you some seed money for the next crop, but wants 90% of the harvest. Where’s the justice?” Bonnie continued to mutter.

“Now, your daughter?” Shinigami steered the topic back to their little trier.

“OH MY GOSH! Is that why you did not want me to be a cop?” Judy suddenly stormed over and confronted her parents.

By the sad way her parents looked at her and then each other, it was true. Especially when they nodded in affirmation.

“You must understand, Judy. When you espoused to us that being a cop was more than a passing fancy. I got scared. I was reminded of my old life, and I did not want to receive a phone call in the middle of the night. Attend a funeral for an empty coffin and receive a folded-up flag with empty platitudes” Bonnie bared her darkest fear.

“That’s why you keep repeating the story about the capture of your great-great-grand-uncle Virgil Hopps during The Second Mammal War!” Stuart suddenly caught on.  

“I had hoped that the story would keep others away. But, Judy, I see a lot of myself in you. I know that if I try and hold you back, you would find a way to go. Even if you made a deal with a mob boss, you would be a cop. No matter the personal cost” Bonnie said sadly.

“So Judy, you have our blessing. Belated, I know. But, you have my blessing to be a cop. A real one. Not just a meter maid” Bonnie smiled and closed the line.

“Mom, wait!”

“Agents! Out!” Shinigami barked at the agents, and they obediently filed out of the residence. “Wilde, stay”

=====================================================================================

Nick did not know why he stayed with the rabbit.

He was free to leave her to flounder when she found him again. Had he filed his tax returns accurately, he would not be facing a charge of tax evasion.

What really rankled him, with a quick search in the air force base’s computer, was that tax evasion was enforced either by IRS or FBI agents.

Not local police, not the ZPD.

The rabbit officer was grasping at straws when she had searched for him. Whoever had given her the tax form was on a power trip of their own. Knowing that the charge was unenforceable, merely wanted the rabbit to fail once again.

It was why part of why he feared Shinigami’s appearance.

He knew that the snow leopard, the former mafiosi guard he had exposed all those years ago, was part of the FBI. If a mammal even had an unpaid parking ticket, Shinigami knew about it and could apply pressure to make them dance to his tune.

He had humiliated himself by grovelling in front of the polar bears and Mister Big when Shinigami appeared. He was lucky that he was not the target, otherwise he would likely be a popsicle himself. Or whatever devious punishment the snow leopard thought up.

But, to witness the immovable Antonio Big also beg for clemency, was a memory he would treasure.

He was happy for Fru-Fru. He truly was.

But Shinigami had stolen the show once more. The snow leopard apparently traveling with a full security team, one of which had threatened to kill a maid inside the manor.

The Bigs did nothing and with that little nudge, their aura of invincibility was gone.

The unnamed jaguar who had joked with the security team seemed to be an armed retainer of some kind; Nick’s sharp eyes had found the concealed holster almost immediately. That the jaguar commanded the same loyalty as Shinigami with the agents spoke volumes.

Until Morris had stepped forward, the question of the Bigs’ successor was very much in the air; the polar bear restored trust in the old regime and there would be no changing of the guard.

The old saying was always: Better the devil you know.

And, Nick knew Mister Big.

Knew his haunts, his guards, and even his favourite cigar brand.

A new regime would be chaotic in the first few months of power struggles as the old refuses to step down. As the solid front fractures, more players enter the field and further muddy allegiances. After a large majority of the old regime are hunted down, the new player consolidates and rewards those closest to them.

For the average mammal on the street, that meant requesting succour from the new player and not being executed for getting in close with the old one.

Nick had shivered at the thought that if Shinigami had taken control of the Zootopian underworld. That would mean that him, and mammals like him, would either be cut off from support or immediately executed as remnants of the old.

If Shinigami had truly set his sights on the underworld, and with the backing of the federal government, he would be solely running the largest empire in the world. A federal government with their fingers in the criminal underworld could undermine political rivals up to, and including, world governments.

It would be a dark world, ruled with an iron fist by Shinigami and his successors.

Even the federal government would soon fall against the combined might of the criminal underworld.

Mammals like the rabbit cop though, would forever stand against the tide. Even when the situation was hopeless, she and those like her would give their very lives to keep the rest safe.

And for this old fox?

He’d just have to find a way to keep on living.

Whether under the idealist stance that was Judy Hopps’ Zootopia or the grim dark future that was Shinigami.

So when Shinigami himself, ordered that he stay put in the apartment, he stayed put.

=====================================================================================

“Officer Hopps, or is it Judy?” I asked the rabbit as she looked shocked at her mother’s bombshell.

“Can I be left alone?” the rabbit whispered, wanting to just curl into a ball and cry.

“No can do, Officer Hopps. Time and trouble wait for no mammal” I answered with alacrity. “Besides,” as I checked my watch and an evil grin appeared on my face, “Chief Bogo is about to have his pecan tree shaken so hard all his nuts will fall off”.

The soft snort of watery laughter from the curled-up bunny as the image made itself known to her showed me that I was making progress.

“Listen Hopps, Chief Bogo is like a farmer whose field was sown with nothing but corn for decades. Why do you rotate crops in the Triburrows? It’s so that the field can either recover nutrients or that a different set of nutrients is pulled from the soil. Which also gets my first point across, I suppose” I explained, rambling on when I forgot I was no farmer and what I just spouted made no sense.

“So, when I come in with my new ideas? He feels challenged because he only knows one way of doing things?” Hopps, Judy, asked as she still snorted at someone shaking a pecan tree and Chief Bogo falling out of it, screaming that he had lost his nuts.

“Somewhat. He, and I for that matter, only see the world as we grew up in it. Bogo and I saw the dark side of mammals and developed ways to combat it. You saw the good, never lose that part of you Judy” I explained as I graced her with a genuine smile.

My blue eyes met her own amethyst ones, and I gave her a wink.

I then stood up from the couch, some of my joints creaking as I did so, and made my way over to my fully charged phone. I saw that I had a new message and unlocked the device with a PIN.

Smirking as I looked down at the message from Agent Carmichael, I knew I would be calling a particularly stubborn mammal in a short while.

“Here Judy, catch!” as I tossed her the keycard for her new apartment. I did not have to turn around to know that she caught it.

“Uh, what’s this?” Judy asked as she turned the card over in its paper sleeve.

“Keycard for your new apartment. You can sign the lease for it downstairs at my building manager’s office. First year’s rent is on me” I let her know as I sent a message with my brick phone to Pentagon Central Command asking for the unlisted private number of ZPD Chief of Police Adrian Bogo.

“What am I going to do with this much space?” Judy cried out, and I chuckled as I beckoned Nick to me.

“Don’t know. Host your sisters over for a fun time, grab a few officers to make them split the rent with you, keep this fox off the streets, start your own business…Sky’s the limit, really. Just let my building manager know what you plan to do ahead of time. You’re not the only law enforcement officer in this place, after all” I answered truthfully as Nick walked unsteadily over to me.

“Nicholas” I addressed the red fox tod before me by his first name. I saw the ZPD Junior Detective sticker on his breast pocket and inwardly chuckled at the irony.

“Shinigami” the red fox replied with the most faux bravado he could muster. His stance was much too stiff to be relaxed around me.

“I forgave your betrayal of me long ago. Yes, I hated you for the first six months of my new life. But, is us meeting like this not better?” I informed him of my old hatred for him exposing me to the tender mercies of the close-in bodyguards as he watched from the sidelines.

“I could not accurately say, Shinigami” Nick evaded my question, just like I expected him to do.

Old habits were especially hard to break, after all.

“That’s alright. I understand your reticence” I patiently informed Nick as his eyes kept glancing at the door behind me.

“Reticence? What you swallowed a dictionary while you were off doing Shinigami things?” Nick fired his first salvo.

In naval battles of old, it does not matter who fires the first salvo. Only who fires the last.

“I know that you believe that the world has failed you, Nicholas. That if you were born another mammal, it would have been different” I countered softly, I just needed for Nicholas to get angry.

“You’re damn right I should have been another mammal!” Nicholas started in on me. “I was nine goddamnit! All I wanted was to join the Junior Ranger Scouts! Mom scraped and begged for every penny until I could wear a new uniform for the first scout meeting of the year! I practiced that oath every day until I got it right! Loyal, Brave, and Trustworthy! Three little words that meant so much to me. I was so excited at being the first predator invited to Pack 914 that I ignored the warning signs that prey would not take kindly to a predator, let alone a fox!”

“And, then what happened?” I gently prodded him, Nick was almost at his breaking point.

Two agents had come in when the shouting started, but had backed out when I waved at them behind Nick’s back.

Nick took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I followed four fellow scouts like me. All prey. To the basement where they had a secret initiation for me. I should have known better. But, I was so eager to be part of something bigger than myself that I went willingly. Like lamb to a slaughter. They had me say the oath. I,” here Nick raised his right paw and performed the old scout’s sign, “Nicholas Wilde promise to be loyal, brave, and trustworthy. One of them, a groundhog, added the line: Even if you are a fox. They jumped me after and strapped a muzzle on. I was in tears by then, so I left the meet before the actual oath-taking ever started. I don’t even know how I got the muzzle off me. No one came to help a crying fox kit in an alleyway.” Nick recounted sadly, his anger spent.

“I know. I took care of those prey mammals thirteen years ago” I patted him on his shoulders as I knelt in front of Nick, effectively making us even in height.

“Your ringleader, Jared T. Possum, fell foul of the FBI by luring and branding predator kits. Always bullying those who could not fight back. I found him in a backyard shed down in Arkansas practically begging for clemency. One bullet to the head. His right paw, Michael Farnsworth the Third, engaged in securities fraud and the FBI could not arrest for lack of evidence. I was dispatched to get a confession. He tried to buy me out. Two bullets and a knife to the stomach took care of him. The third mammal, a zebra named Richard N’gomba, is currently a Baptist preacher and is the only mammal still living. The Bureau and Agency are keeping tabs on him just in case, but nothing that merits a visit from the Grim Reaper. The fourth mammal, a squirrel named Alexander Persimmon, committed suicide by cop down in Houston after stupidly brandishing his unlicensed weapon at an undercover Houston detective. In a cop bar” I informed him of the fate of those who had muzzled him as a kit.

“So you see, Nicholas. You exposing my plan to La Famiglia has helped make me the mammal I am today. Just as your experiences have allowed you to survive to this day. Just as Hopps’ perseverance has brought her to this moment” I finished as I stood up from my kneeling position.

“You killed mammals?” Judy asked, no longer sure about accepting the keycard.

“What do you think Shinigami means in English, Officer Hopps?” I rhetorically asked her as I checked my watch and was surprised that only five minutes had elapsed.

“Part of my job, Miss Hopps. Part of my job” I answered with a fang-filled grin. If I wanted to scare her, I was sorely mistaken.

“Hey, why are your teeth not as white as the other predators I see?” Judy asked.

“Because whitened teeth are a sign of wealth. I keep mine this way as I can possibly be deployed abroad to blend in” I answered as I collected my weapons and phones from a side table.

Judy, and Nick, shuddered as I returned the two pistols, five knives, one grenade, and one flashbang to my pockets.

“Now, can we go to Precinct One?” I asked.

“The two of you need to shower though. The security camera in the staff lounge at Beaverbrook caught the two of you snuggled up against each other for warmth and it is best if there are no further rumours” I warned them as I could smell the fox musk.

The agents were all masked up and had smelled nothing. Special Agent von Kaggerak and his team were not wearing respirators but had withheld comment as stranger things had happened.

Sniffing myself, I sighed. I also needed a shower, but none of my things were present. I was loathe to wake Mateo as well just to ferry a change of clothes.

Making my way over to the side table beside the front door, I opened the drawer and was gratified that my old cache of Musk Mask™ was still present. Shaking the canister, I liberally sprayed myself to keep the odour of stinky cat at bay until I could collapse into my own shower.

Chapter Text

Special Agent Francis Carmichael got out of the black SUV at the front steps of Precinct One. The painted dog checked his gear one last time before ascending the granite steps to the Precinct One atrium. Inside the car, he had exchanged his tactical assault gear for an armoured suit and tie.

Despite his initial objections, he did acknowledge that walking into a mob boss’ house in full tactical gear was different than doing the same thing to a police station.

Flicking out a pair of dark glasses to shield his eyes from the sun, the hound walked with purpose up the steps to the glass-walled atrium of the city-state’s premiere police precinct. Pushing the door open, the CIA Black Operations agent made his way to the front desk where he knew Sergeant Benjamin Clawhauser worked his dispatch magic.

Walking with purpose, none of the mammals in blue accosted him as he acted like he was supposed to be there. Some of the mammals, like a pair of sheep, gave him the stink-eye as he moved in the same manner as a member of Internal Affairs. Other members of the ZPD placed quiet bets on who was going to be chewed out today.

Internal Affairs was universally hated by both beat and detectives as their presence meant someone really screwed up.

The rest of the precinct held their collective breath as the painted dog stopped in front of the desk sergeant.

=====================================================================================

Benjamin Clawhauser was ignorant of the mammal approaching as he was trying to find the limited-edition Gazelle figurine that was hidden in every 1 out of 100 boxes of Lucky Chomps.

Though not originally a dispatcher, a tragic injury on the beat robbed him of the power of his legs.

While not disabled enough to be discharged, he was no longer certified to chase after criminals due to the damage to his right femur by a rampaging bull elephant who had charged the officer in a pique, crushing his leg as the cheetah fell.

The svelte cheetah had gained weight as he sat at the dispatch desk day in and day out, munching on something to keep his mind off the pain emanating from his titanium replacement. His buoyancy and joie d vivre in dealing with mammals was also a distraction from the twinge in his leg, and the painful memories it would bring as he would often look down at it when the radio calls were silent.

The doctors had all assured him that the pain would fade in time.

They had also all but given up hope that he would ever walk again.

Benjamin, or Ben to his coworkers, forgot all of that as there in his second helping of cereal was the plastic bag that contained his limited-edition Gazelle figurine. Overcome with joy, he carefully plucked the bag out of the milk and dried it on a paper napkin in the space below his desk.

Mind already racing on where to place the new figurine, he failed to notice the shadow over his bowl of cereal before it was too late.

A throat clearing was all the warning he got before he looked up in shock at a painted dog shoving a badge in his face.

Ben fainted.

=====================================================================================

Agent Carmichael was already openly sneering at the amount of kitsch on display at the front desk. He was refraining from taking the little push bell and smashing the snow globe on the table with it.

If anyone tried doing that with the front desk at the Agency, they would be lucky to be sent to an outpost the opposite extreme of what they were adapted to.

His boss, Deputy Director del Morte, had not complained when he was sent to Central Africa, despite being unaccustomed to the heat and humidity.

Nor did his fellow agent, Agent Antonio Pirelli, complain of being sent to Thule AFB. The stallion had come back missing his forelock, but no major complaints.

Both of them had performed relatively minor infractions such as leaking confidential information (DDI del Morte) or pranking DDI del Morte with a rubber snake (Agent Pirelli).

When the cheetah continued to ignore the agent’s presence, he cleared his throat and readied his badge. The moment the cheetah looked up and saw the badge thrust into his face, he fainted.

Stomping around the front desk, with less patience than his boss, Agent Carmichael revived the plush cheetah with a splash of milk.

“Mmm, strawberry. My favourite” the cheetah hummed as he slowly came to.    

Only to squeal in fright at the sight of the painted hound wearing his dark glasses inside the atrium.

At the open sneer that Agent Carmichael was wearing, Benjamin Clawhauser began to blabber out apologies and admissions of guilt.

“I’m sorry about Chief Bogo’s smoothies! It’s just it went down so silky smooth against my throat the first time and I couldn’t get enough! I despaired when he started making them at home, until he left some in the breakroom fridge by accident. I was ever so glad that Fangy (Fangmeyer) took the fall”.

When the agent, who Clawhauser assumed was Internal Affairs, remained silent. The cheetah began to stammer out more confessions.

“You might have heard about the banana cream pie, then? I’m sorry for that too. I never thought Frank Wolford was allergic to bananas until he started eating. Heaven’s to Betsies, I thought he was just embarrassed that I remembered his birthday” Clawhauser continued to dig his own grave as the other officers took notes.

Discreetly.

IA was particularly ruthless when they felt their authority was being challenged. If one of the officers got caught taking down notes, an administrative suspension was the lightest penalty.

“Or was it the strawberry meringue pie that Officer Trunkaby brought in as a surprise for her cousin, Sergeant Pennington? That was quite delicious, and I don’t know how I managed to eat it all. Poor Francine thought her cousin had forgotten her anniversary and poor Maria for thinking that her cousin binned the pie in disgust. Worst three weeks of the precinct that was” the poor cheetah continued to blubber.

Agent Carmichael continued his silent glare as he reached for the intercom button for Chief Bogo on the desk sergeant’s desk. Pressing it, everyone heard the long buzz of the intercom ring out in the lobby.

The shouted, “WHAT CLAWHAUSER!”, made everyone not Internal Affairs leap into the air.

Sergeant Mac Rhinowitz had just walked under the first-floor balcony terrace and the shout of an irate cape buffalo had the rhino launching himself into the ceiling. As plaster and sheetrock fell around him, the rhino sergeant soon found out that he had embedded himself deeply into the concrete above. As he tried to extricate himself, it felt like his horn was being tugged away and he stopped.

He continued to dangle from the ceiling until Sergeant Trumpet stepped out from his office to find out what was causing all the noise. The senior elephant merely wrapped his trunk around the girth of the armoured rhino and gave him a solid yank. This led to Rhinowitz falling onto Sergeant Trumpet and the two lay tangled in a somewhat compromising position.

Lieutenant Higgins was leaning against the door leading to the bullpen, keeping it open while Sergeant Andersen (polar bear) carried in a tray of coffee for the morning shift. The echoing shout of Chief Bogo had Andersen flip the tray over in fear and drenched the poor hippo in coffee. Luckily, the morning shift had asked for iced coffees and frappes. Otherwise, Lieutenant Higgins would need to be treated for second and third-degree burns. The barrel-sized coffee cup that the polar bears drank from would have been enough to warrant a trip to the emergency room for splinter removal.  

To add insult to injury, when the hippo let go of the swinging door, it smacked him in the nose and he rested against a sheepish-looking polar bear holding the serving tray in front of him as an impromptu shield.

Officer Marcus Delgato and Officer Jean Fangmeyer had just entered the atrium behind the purported Internal Affairs officer. They had sprinted over when Ben had toppled to stop the IA from reaming out their dispatcher. The enraged shout from their chief, however, had the two cats cling to the pillars that framed the ZPD logo. It would take the combined strength of Francine Pennington and Maria Trunkaby to pull each of them from the marble pillars.

Twin Officers Frank and Anthony Wolford had just left the male locker rooms and were on their way to the bullpen when they heard the infamous shout of Chief Bogo. They hurried in to find their seats, only for Anthony to slip on one of the spilled coffees and tumble into a desk leg, knocking himself out. Frank had to pull himself together when he saw the cream-covered Lieutenant Higgins glaring up at another creamy mess.

Officer Andersen (lion) had just gotten off the phone with his pregnant mate when he heard the enraged shout of his boss. Surprised, he launched his old analogue phone into the air. The old Nokia was built to last and it clonked loudly on the head of Traffic Officer Merino, knocking the sheep out from the impact.

Merino’s partner, Traffic Officer Rodriguez, had turned his head to look at his collapsed colleague and was shoved aside by SWAT combat medic Alfonso de Balrog who was responding to Sergeant Rhinowitz’s initial calls of distress. The Catalan bull launching the sheep into a stone column, also knocking him out.  

Officer Jackson (tiger) had just entered the building via the motor pool at the side entrance. His eyes just grew wide at the sheer chaos inside and he silently creeped back out. He would call in sick today.

He was the lucky one.

Officer Jackson’s partner, Probationary Officer Grizzoli (white wolf), was not so lucky as he tripped on a hastily-discarded elephant-sized notebook and careened into a bunch of his fellow officers. The white wolf had tucked himself into a ball to minimise the damage to himself, but only increased his speed on the waxed floor. His fellow trainees were arranged roughly like bowling pins and his momentum swept them all off their feet including Officer Brian McHorn and Training Officer Juniper Bearington. The earth-shattering impact of both mammals was what drew Chief Bogo out of his office.

In another universe, someone called out “SSSSTTTTRRRRRIIIIIKKKKKKEEEEE!!!!”.

That someone was then set upon by the rest of the station and painted a lurid white over their orange fur. A red bowtie would then complete the look of a bowling pin.

Through it all, Agent Carmicheal allowed a smirk to grace his lips as he then announced through the intercom system, “Chief Bogo. I have a federal summons for you. Meet in the bullpen”.

=====================================================================================

Chief Bogo glared at his dishevelled officers; arms crossed over his muscular chest.

His experienced eyes noticed the stray dollops of cream on his hastily-cleaned lieutenant and sergeant’s uniforms, the plaster dust on his SWAT sergeant, the ice packs on the heads of three more officers, the bleary look of McHorn and Bearington, the absence of Officer Grizzoli (evacuated to Savannah A&E) and Officer Jackson (called in sick), SWAT medic Balrog was still applying splints to injured officers of the morning shift, and to top it all off, Officers Merino and Rodriguez had been carted away by federal agents on a conspiracy charge.

At least the token bunny would be quitting in three hours time, he would take his bad day.

His officers could feel the intense heat of the gaze and had purposefully left the two front rows empty.

The only one unaffected was the cause of the madness, CIA Agent Francis Carmichael. The painted dog was sipping a to-go cup of Snarlbucks coffee calmly in the front row. The painted hound was also texting with his footpaws planted on the desk, a challenge to his authority.

Glancing at the clock behind him, Chief Bogo noted that it was already 0840 and he had not been able to start the morning briefing.

To make matters worse, someone’s phone started to ring.

The opening bars of the famous Try Everything by Gazelle began to sound throughout the bullpen. “Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh….Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh…Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.  I messed up tonight, I lost another fight. Lost to myself, but I’ll start again. I keep falling down, I keep on hitting the ground. But, I always get up to see what’s next…”

Chief Bogo ground out, “Whose phone is that?!” as he gripped the podium tight enough to make it creak.

The officers in the bullpen looked at each other as they tried to figure out who had a ringtone like that. Usually it was Ben, with his love of all things Gazelle.

As the officers continued to search each other for the source of the ringtone, Chief Bogo’s right ear flicked as the phone started ringing again. “Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh….Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh…Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.  I messed up tonight, I lost another fight. Lost to myself, but I’ll start again. I keep falling down, I keep on hitting the ground. But, I always get up to see what’s next…”

He was not going to mention to his officers that it was HIS phone ringing. He would never live it down.

“Since no one wants to admit to that obnoxious ringtone who is not Clawhauser, I see no reason not to place the lot of you on parking duty” the cape buffalo informed his officers with deep, measured tones; the sign of an impending blow-up.

The tapping of keys by the agent in the front row notwithstanding, Bogo had no jurisdiction on what the agent did, the bullpen was silent.

The phone began ringing again and the pack of wolves looked about to howl out in despair. 

Just as suddenly the ringing stopped, and Bogo silently said a prayer of thanks.

Only to immediately blanch as he heard the guitar riff on his unlisted phone.

“You never met a mammal like me. You wouldn’t understand. I’m in the Rock’n’roll business, honey. I’m in a rock’n’roll band. And we were headed for the top babe, way back in ’91. Some record business scumbags took it from us. Well, they forgot my gun. Well, now we’re back in business folks. I’ve come to claim what’s mine. See we’re the four … (fucking Horsemen. Back for a second time)”

The Precinct One officers were treated to the scene of their boss dashing out of the briefing room with a hollered, “Regular Assignments! Dismissed!”.

A small voice could then be heard in the corridor leading to the Chief’s private staircase, “Oh. Hi Deputy Director…”.

Chapter Text

My brick phone beeped as I waited for the fox and rabbit duo to exit their respective showers.

Checking it, I noticed that Alan had an update for me.

When I opened the message, I was gratified that Woolter had fully cracked under the Sumatran tiger’s pressure.

Jessie was keeping silent, unafraid of the interrogators as he believed that his father, Chief McAbbee of Meadowlands would swoop in to save him.

=====================================================================================

Unfortunately for Jesse, his father and the entire Meadowlands precinct, would fall in a few hours to a sudden assault from armed mammals disguised as TUSK operators. Chief Andrew McAbbee would then be beheaded online as federal agents would fight their way into the precinct, failing to stop the beheading of the chief.

A quiet investigation into the mysterious death of Dawn Bellwether’s father, Vesper, had also borne fruit. Three sheep agents masquerading as insurance adjusters were able to coerce the parson in charge of the cemetery to allow them to exhume the body of the deceased ram as there was a contesting claim on the life insurance policy of $ 5 million dollars.

Two of the sheep then met with Assistant Mayor Dawn Bellwether to explain that corporate was finding the circumstances a little fishy and had refused to pay out unless an autopsy was conducted. The Assistant Mayor had thrown a rant about “Insurance companies still wanting a piece of their pie long after the mammal is dead”.

Crime technicians at the FBI’s Quantico lab analysed samples of the ram’s body and discovered lethal levels of alcohol and diazepam forty times the limit for a toned ram such as he. According to physician’s records, obtained by subterfuge, everyone with medical experience was expelled from the bedroom by an irate Dawn Bellwether four days before the comatose Vesper died. When a team was sent in with a subpoena, the records had already been altered to show that Dawn Bellwether was nowhere near her father during those last few days. Instead, a male nurse named Ramone Dickens was named as caregiver.

The secretary at the physician’s clinic showed documents that Vesper Bellwether had purportedly signed. These were taken to a graphologist and more discrepancies came to light, when compared to bank statements the ram had signed a year prior.

For instance, the V part of the signature was crisp and neat on Vesper’s original. The V was also set at a ninety-degree angle from each other. The newer signatures had the V almost lying down. The ‘esper’ part also looked hastily rushed as if the mammal was in a big hurry.

Even when felled by illness, Vesper Bellwether’s signature was always neat and legible. A charge of forgery of federal documents were prepared against the Assistant Mayor. She was the only mammal who had appeared at the bank to close her father’s accounts with the falsified signatures.

Ramone Dickens would be identified by the secretary in a photographic line-up as Douglas Ramses. By then, the story would leak that he had managed to escape federal custody by killing two rookie agents assigned to transfer him back to his holding cell.

ZPD would be placed on alert and allow me to quietly mop up any cells wanting to take him in.

I had delayed the charges as there was something the little ewe was planning. The current Justice Secretary, a proud red deer doe by the name of Maria Monteblanc, agreed and let the ewe walk around scot-free as the federal government continued to build the case.

Maria Monteblanc, the successor of Nicholas Furie, was just as hard-nosed as her former boss. Unlike the younger members of her office, who believed in redemption through prison. Maria was very much steeped in the Old Testament. A little visit from the Angel of Death would put the fear of God into anyone.  

But these would be three months from now.

Now, I move the fox and bunny to Precinct One.

=====================================================================================

“Nick, Judy, ready to go?” I asked as I knocked on the door to the only furnished small-mammal bedroom in the former Wilkins’ penthouse apartment.

=====================================================================================

With a whopping 500 square metre area, the apartment should have cost $120,000 a month in rent without the furnishings. Fully furnished, the going rate near the city’s premiere station house was an eye-watering $450,000 a month.

More than a city employee could ever afford with a basic salary of $ 100,000 annually.

As the buildings were a set of three, and leased comfortably to first responders, the rent was just a measly $30,000 a month. The buildings actually operated on a loss if the subsidies were removed. If I wanted to make the apartments profitable, I would have to lease it out to the very same scumbags I had outbid.

Mammals like lawyers, politicians, and accountants who only trusted the bottom line.  

The bean counters at the Treasury Department almost had a heart attack when they found out why the apartments were not profitable. They had wanted to cut either services or raise the rent. I had flat-out refused as the bean counters did not live in Zootopia but benefited from the very same subsidised apartment complexes and blockhouses that they advocated against. When I pointed that out, the bean counters continued their hypocrisy until the D.C Trial Circuit issued a rare cease-and-desist order against the federal government.

The Supreme Court upheld that decision with a unanimous ruling. Congress agreed and enshrined the order into law. Cutting through ninety-five pages of legalese, the Equal Housing Act of 2012 could be encapsulated in two sentences: Housing sponsored by federal aid are exempt from cost-cutting measures. The housing must match the aid funnelled into it or the building owner faces federal charges of not less than twenty years and a maximum of fifty.

=====================================================================================

 As I got no reply, I worried that the fox and bunny had fallen asleep.

“Hopps, Wilde. I’m coming in!” I shouted, as Agent Bellwether entered the apartment to see what the hold-up was. With some quick paw signals, I got the ram to place a charge on the door, pull out his ballistic shield, and hunker down behind me as I held said shield. With FAST charge in place, I nodded at the ram and he set the charge.

“FIRE IN THE HOLE!” I yelled as the explosive detonated with a loud bang, destroying the lock plate as the two of us hunkered down behind the shield. (The door needed replacing anyway. I just needed an excuse)

“Flashbang out” Agent Bellwether intoned as he tossed in the stun grenade. After the loud bang and bright flash in the darkened room, the two of us entered with weapons drawn. Flicking on the lights, I heard the shower running and risked a peep.

But, none of the two mammals were present. The water was just left running. Agent Bellwether merely shook his head and turned off the faucet.

“Sweep and clear!” I ordered the FBI HRT who had entered the apartment after hearing the explosions.

The agents swept the entire apartment top to bottom, including the loft that then-Captain Wilkins had installed for Peter Wilkins to pretend he was a spy.

“Kitchen, clear!”

“Bedroom, clear!”

“Hallway, clear!”

“Second bedroom, clear!”

“Master bedroom, clear!”

“Hall closet, clear!”

“Master bedroom closet, clear!”

“Master bathroom, clear!”

“Loft space, clear!”

“Roof Terrace…not clear! WILDE, HOPPS! PAWS WHERE I CAN SEE ‘EM!”

“Sir!” FBI-HRT Agent von Kaggerak saluted me as I sat on the couch listening to the sounds of mammals tearing apart the apartment.

“Good news, agent?” I popped a red-rimmed eye open.

“Yes sir. Hopps and Wilde were found on the roof terrace. They were contemplating jumping to the other side” the wolf agent reported.

“The one below the helipad roof deck?” I asked tiredly.

“Yes sir” the agent replied. 

“Bring them to me” I replied with a tired shake of my head. So much like her mother.

“Oh, and Agent Kaggerak?” I stopped the wolf before he had gone too far.

“Sir?”

“Call in a helo. I am not braving rush hour traffic at 0815” I informed him as I looked across at a gilded clock gently resting on the wall.

“Sir! Kilo Foxtrot One, requesting immediate exfil from Bravo Three for transport to Papa One. (How copy, over?)” the wolf replied as he began the radio transmission.

The radio I had installed in selected apartments crackled back with a response “Roger. Kilo Foxtrot One, we have a Charlie Kilo twenty mikes out”.

“Standby. Will request Delta Delta India for approval” Special Agent von Kaggerak replied as he came back with Nick and Judy dangling from the paws of the very unimpressed Agent Xian.

“Did you at least get clean?” I asked imperiously as both mammals were giving me the puppy-eyed stare of innocence.

I motioned for the wolf agent to come closer. The set built into the apartment could receive, not send. Unless a reciprocal unit was installed, there would be no outbound communication.

“This is Delta Delta India. Priority Authorisation: Alpha Zulu November Two Six Five Eight” I spoke into the wolf’s radio, the astute agent handing over his helmet rig for me.

“Authorisation confirmed. Seahawk inbound. Five mikes out” the controller on the other end replied as we moved higher up the queue.

I returned the helmet rig back to Agent von Kaggerak and the wolf secured the chin strap.

“Special Agent Xian, you and Agent Bellwether are to accompany me in the land vehicles. Agent August von Kaggerak, you and your HRT will take the Sea King. Hopps rides with me. Wilde with you. Got it?” I informed the assembled agents near me.

“Sir!” was the short reply from both the panda and the ram as they took possession of Officer Hopps.

“Yes sir” was HRT Special Agent von Kaggerak’s reply as he took possession of Nicholas Wilde.

“Move out” I informed them as the agents did a quick march out the front door.

I was the last one out and locked the door behind me. As I turned the key, a minute EMP charge was detonated. Destroying any forgotten electronics that were not specifically hardened, like Nicholas Wilde’s burner phone as it burnt out.

I had not taken more than two steps when Agent Bellwether approached, sans Hopps. “Sir,” the ram whispered, “an incoming call was intercepted to the apartment we just left”.

“Was Command able to triangulate?” I asked just as softly. I could see Wilde struggling in Agent Xian’s arms and the placid panda was thinking of biting Wilde’s neck scruff.

“Here sir” the ram passed over the tablet that the security team carried in case I needed to see the map from above.

“Hello Agent Finnick. You’ve been in the cold for too long” I muttered as the cell signal was pinpointed to within ten meters of the nearest cell tower, that being on the roof of Precinct Two in Sahara Square.

“Agent Bellwether, get me a direct line to that phone. We’ll continue this conversation in the car” I informed the ram who nodded assent as he began to tap on the tablet.

“Change of plans” I announced louder to the two teams. “Hopps, you take the chopper. Wilde, with me”.

The said mammals changed paws and we booked it down four floors to the idling SUVs.

Wilde was tossed in by Agent von Kaggerak as another agent took the shotgun position. I slid in on the opposite side, boxing the fox in.

“Hit it!” I ordered our driver as the lead SUV surged forward onto the street, the lights flashing and sirens wailing.

The second, third, fourth, and fifth SUV followed us out as we sped not for Precinct One.

But, for the shimmering sands of the Sahara District. 

=====================================================================================

“Come on mammal, where’s you at? Pick up!” Finnick the fennec was hunched over in an alleyway as he kept listening to the phone on the other end ring and ring.

Finnick (real name: Arturo Canarias) had ran afoul of some camels that belonged to a rival faction of the Bigs. He was now hiding out in an alleyway near one of the places he swore not to go near: Precinct Two of Sahara Square. None of the gang camels were dumb enough to go near the precinct of the Unbribable Officers, as the police inside were particularly vicious when offered ‘incentives’ to let a mammal go.

Still, the fennec did not dare risk going close as he had family amongst the officers, and he could not risk being exposed.

But that did not stop unmarked affiliates from trying to cash in a favour by nabbing him as the fennec reacted to a long tawny arm reach into the dark corner where he had been hunched over. The fennec held his breath as the arm grabbed a cloth bag and dragged it upward. When the bag cleared his head, without touching the tips of his ears, the fennec continued to hold his breath before he heard receding hoof steps from a pair of camels. The way the two were carrying on a conversation, Finnick surmised that the two were druggies looking for their cache of paraphernalia.

Finnick finally looked down at his phone and bit back a curse. He had enough juice for two more calls before the battery would go the way of the dodo. As he contemplated asking Kevin or Morris for help, the bears owed him a favour, the phone began to ring with an unknown number.

“No shit it’s unknown” Finnick muttered as he thought about not answering, but figured what the hell. Worse comes to worst, he could always ditch it for a new one.

Pressing the answer key, he listened to the caller on the other end. “Foxtrot November Kilo, extraction imminent. Repeat authorisation” the computer-generated voice on the other end made the desert fox wince.

He thought he had escaped The Farm.

Turns out they let him go to ground.

He was not looking forward to facing Shinigami.

The wolf was ruthless with deserters. 

Still, he’d hold onto a rope studded with broken glass for a chance to escape a trap. “Authorisation: Juliet Two Four Niner Golf” the fennec responded.

He just hoped that the kid never found out what that barcode tattooed on his neck was.

“Copy that Foxtrot November Kilo. Extraction confirmed. Exfil Challenge: Uniform Whisky. Reply: Bravo Delta” the voice continued before it cut out. The battery died soon after, leaving the fennec to stare at a dark screen.

“Fuck” the fennec cursed.

=====================================================================================

“Did he confirm?” I asked Central via my triple encrypted mobile. The brick was coming in handy.

“Thanks Ciri. Keep me updated” I informed my favoured controller as I cut the line.

“August!” I called out and the wolf turned to face me. “I have an operative who has been out too long in the cold. Ciri confirmed its him and we are to issue the challenge: Uniform Whisky. A reply of Bravo Delta and we pull him into the cars for a quick trip into Precinct Two. We can use their Search and Rescue Dolphin to reach Precinct One”.

“Sir!” the wolf nodded as ZPD traffic units cleared the way for a five-car federal convoy that would not stop even if we hit a mammal. We were using rumbler sirens the entire way to force mammals to stand aside.

Tapping my Bluefang four times, I was immediately connected to one of the permanent drone operators over the city-state.

“Talk to me Johnson. What’s the sitrep on the ground?” I let the drone operator know he was online.

“Looks bad, sir. Your agent is surrounded on all sides and his back is to the wall” the drone operator responded in a neutral tone.

“Not too shabby. What’s the bad news?” I asked, chuckling as I did so.

“Uh…” the operator broke composure as he swallowed, “…I don’t follow, sir”.

“You’ve never been deployed as ground support. It shows” I informed the drone operator, knowing it would take too long to explain.

“Wait sir!” the connection was disconnected as I searched for a new operator.

“Reinhardt, talk to me” I instructed the new drone pilot. “Same as Johnson. What’s the sitrep on the ground?”

“Looks bad from up here sir” the pilot replied in German-accented English. “Your agent is taking them on one at a time. He is flagging” the new one continued.

“Just another day at the office” I commented darkly as the wolf’s pack bared titanium fangs. Wilde almost wet himself.

Our antelope driver floored it, almost clipping the ZPD traffic unit ahead of us as the turbocharger kicked in.

“And the bad news?” I prodded Reinhardt.

“You have ZPD SWAT joining you. Callsign: Hotel Kilo Zero One” the operator informed us.

“Tell me Agent von Kaggerak, ever been part of a black team before?” I asked the wolf, as I switched out my normal magazines with hollow points; who then gulped and broke his flat composure as he shook his head in the negative.

“You’re about to find out” as the slides of the pistols moved forward, chambering a round each. Weapons slides were cocked back, and firing chambers primed as the wolves started salivating for a fight.

=====================================================================================

“You want a piece of me, bitch! You want a piece!” Finnick yelled out as he charged at a flagging dromedary with his trusty aluminium bat.

Finnick had made the cardinal mistake of entering a room with only one exit.

In his haste to avoid the gang-sympathetic mammals and make the exfil in time, he had turned right instead of left and had wound up at a dead-end.

While he was doubling back, he had run into the advance scouts of the Triple Hump Gang. Turning to run, he found his exit blocked by the same affiliates who had herded him away from the station earlier.

He was trapped and the camels were just playing with him. Feeling a wet spot on his side, the fennec kept his eyes on the mammals in front of him as he patted the spot with his free paw. Glancing at his paw for just a moment, he saw the telltale redness of blood.

That moment of indecision cost him as the camel spat out a glob of saliva on the dusty ground and charged with a bellowed cry.

Before the camel’s outstretched hoof smashed into the fennec’s face, Finnick’s life flashed before his eyes.

His greatest regret was that he never got to wish the kid luck.

The hoof struck and Finnick was thrown back onto the stone wall that he had been backed up to. In so doing, he lost his grip on the bat and the melee weapon was picked up by another camel.

The desert fox collapsed onto the dirty ground of the alley and coughed up blood.

“You ain’t so tough after all” the supposed leader spat out as he approached with a bloody blade. The sunlight glinting off was picked up by the circling drone.

=====================================================================================

“Sir, your agent is down” Reinhardt informed me over the Bluefang connection. “Request weapons package unlock”.

“Authorisation Access: Lima Lima Three Six Yankee” I informed Reinhardt and the operator chuckled as the drone’s weapons came online.

“Scorched earth, Reinhardt. Keep a barrier between the meat and my agent. We are…” I informed the drone operator and paused as I looked at the antelope through the rearview.

“Six minutes out, sir” the antelope responded as he kept pace with the GPS.

“Six minutes. Enjoy playtime” I informed Reinhardt.

“Oh, I intend to. Let’s see how these arschlochs like it when they can’t fight back” the operator chuckled as he rained down fire. [assholes]

=====================================================================================

Finnick struggled to breathe, struggled to suck in enough to fill his lungs.

That last hit broke something important as he could barely see from the blood streaming freely from a gaping head wound.

“Looks like we still get to play!” the lead camel shouted with glee as he advanced on the tiny desert predator.

“Yeah! I want his ears as a souvenir” another proclaimed as he approached with a blade longer than the fennec was tall.

Finnick only managed to raise himself onto one knee as he panted heavily. He could barely see out of one eye and his other was blind.

Praying for a miracle, but knowing that none would be forthcoming, he closed his eyes and awaited the killing blow.

Something hot sprayed onto him and the fennec thought he was dying. The screams of the other camelids gave him hope as he wiped the blood out of his one good eye.

In front of him, the supposed leader no longer had a torso.

Or legs.

Or arms.

Or anything recognisable as a camel if not for the scraps of cloth that Finnick knew used to be a desert robe.

Just as Finnick contemplated how that could have happened, his large ears heard the buzz of a drone, and he gave out a weak laugh.

“Tu es cuit” he muttered out in French at the suddenly scared camels. [You’re finished]

As if to accentuate the fennec’s statement, another camel was cut in two by a stream of tracers from above.

The slam of two sets of metallic objects in front of the fennec further lent the mammal strength as two XV-1 exosuits dropped in, the ground cracking beneath their armoured feet.

“Back away now and you may yet live” the left exosuit’s pilot ordered the camels through the suit’s speakers.

“WE CAN TAKE THEM!” a particularly brave, or foolish, camel bellowed out and charged with his sword. The camel did not make it two paces before getting punched through the stone wall of the derelict house behind him.

He did not get up again.

The armoured fist came back bloody, the punch had caved in the chest cavity of the camel.

The further wail of sirens got closer and a screech of tires locking as vehicles closed off the exit to the alleyway.

Out of the lead vehicle, a snow leopard in a suit stepped out and Finnick’s blood ran cold for the second time.

Shinigami had come for him. A tear escaped the fennec’s eye as he assumed that Shinigami had already executed the kid.

“Give yourselves up and no one else shall die today” the snowy predator had ordered through a megaphone.

“Fuck you pig! Wir haben keine Angst vor Ihnen!” one of the camelids cried out in German, thumping his hoof against his chest. [We are not afraid of you!]

“Ausgezeichnet! Ich wollte einen Kampf!” the snow leopard replied as he charged. [Excellent. I have been wanting a fight!]

“All units, weapons free!” came the radioed order that seemed to come from all around the alley.

The camel gang members and their hangers-on chanced a glance up and noticed the rifles pointed down from mammals wearing desert camo.  

Their bravado shattered when the first set of bullets tore into their soft tissues.

The XV-1 exosuits hunkered down around Finnick as their operators protected the agent from stray weapons fire. There were a few ricochets that the exosuits caught, the armour standing up to the challenge.

“It was a goddamn firing squad” ZPD SWAT Commander al-Moustafa later told reporters when the rest of the gang was forcefully uprooted by an angry multi-agency taskforce hellbent on revenge.

The rat-tat-tat of fully automatic weapons discharging their deadly barrage was coupled with the short reports of pistols going off.

Mammals who thought they could surrender to the ZPD units at the entrance to the cul-de-sac were herded back into the kill zone by riot shields wielded by unyielding rhinos in black armour.

The massacre was over in under thirty seconds as the alleyway gave new meaning to ‘shooting fish in a barrel’.

“Ceasefire! Ceasefire!” the order came when there was nothing living among the gangbangers.

“Ew,” a rhino in black armour joked as he tipped the shield forward and a dead camel slid off, “I’ve got camel gangbanger on my shield”.

“You’ll have to burn that shield” another remarked back.

The sound of clapping had the agents and officers in, and above the alley, turn to a snow leopard with a manic grin on his face.

“Excellent work. Though, this is just a warm-up. We are taking the fight to the Triple Humps, and they will find no succour. Orders from the top. Raise the black flag” the snow leopard smiled with his teeth bared as he passed on the Presidential Decree.

The ZPD officers were left behind as the mass of mammals returned to vehicles that seemed to materialise out of the desert sands.

In moments, they were gone.

So, too was the fennec who had been immediately airlifted to Sahara Central Hospital and Trauma Centre as soon as the shooting stopped.

Two combat medics dropped in by rappelling from a hovering UH-60 Blackhawk, and poured bleach onto the bloodstains left by the DPA.

“Hey, you’re contaminating the crime scene!” Precinct Two’s Officer Chanterelle shouted at the two combat medics. 

“Correction. We are exterminating the presence of our agent here” the first one said as he straightened up as his partner continued pouring bleach wherever the fennec fell.

“We’ll be out of your fur as soon as the last traces of his blood are erased” the antelope looked directly at the smaller wolf in front of him, not even fazed by the blood and gore scattered around.   

“Done. We can go” a female voice came out of the other soldier’s mouth as she stood up and recapped the empty gallon of bleach.

“Then, let us away” as both mammals clamped themselves to the dangling ropes and were winched back onboard the helicopter.

“What are we going to tell the captain?” Officer Chanterelle asked her partner, as she remembered that only SWAT carried lethal weaponry. Those mammals earlier in SWAT-like uniforms were not ZPD.

“What we can” her partner answered as the coyote scratched his furred head, amending it to “What the CIA will allow us to say”. The coyote brought out a folded envelope out of his right trouser pocket that he was sure was not there when he and Officer Chanterelle responded to the weapons discharges.

Chapter Text

I got back into the SUV, Nick once more sandwiched between Agent Kaggerak and I.

“Nick,” I informed the shaking red fox tod as we pulled away from the alley entrance, “your friend is actually a rogue asset who had escaped from a highly classified location known as The Farm. He has successfully evaded all attempts at capture for the last thirty years. His streak ended today”.

“But I would know Finn if he was a secret agent. We drank cheap beer together in the back of his van. We ran hustles together. Sure the big guy had a temper, but an agent?” Nick replied, incredulous at my assertion.

“Who taught you to avoid the Jam Cams spread throughout the city? I know for a fact that Mister Big conducted business off the street just for that purpose” I replied, using a title as none of the agents with us were cleared for that information.

“Finn kept pointing them out to me. Even told me about the weird camera set-up that Sahara had where the cameras hid in the palm…trees…” Nick answered, trailing off as the penny dropped.

“Agent Matthias” I addressed our antelope driver, “take us directly into Precinct Two’s underground parking”. “Of course, sir” the antelope replied as he steered us to the employee entrance of the unassuming sandstone building and led us in.

We parked at the underground entrance of the garage to the rest of the precinct. Officers who were about to start their patrol, boggled their eyes at us.

“Agents, disembark” I ordered as I opened my door and planted my paws on the cool cement.

The five-vehicle convoy immediately disgorged their occupants, some still shaking off sand when the weather began to pick up.   

The agents immediately formed up around me when I raised my paw and hustled me into the station house. Nicholas Wilde was left behind, but quickly followed as the police officers were giving him some funny looks.

I pushed myself to the front of the line, making it clear for all intents and purposes who was in charge of the gaggle of agents. As I walked, I pressed the call button on the Bureau phone for Chief Bogo’s official mobile line.

I had no idea of the chaos I was causing back at Precinct One’s bullpen. Agent Carmichael would fill me in later.  

“Sergeant Lorelei” I loudly addressed the desk sergeant of Precinct Two. “I need to borrow your Dolphin for a quick trip to Precinct One. Is Chief Palmer in?”.

Mammals who wanted to inquire about matters with the police made themselves scarce behind columns and planters. Some simply walked back out. A weasel with crooked whiskers in an undershirt and blue shorts with a red stripe saw the commotion and slowly attempted to escape.

“What do you want, Ivan?” a tired male voice made the agents raise their weapons to point at a Tibetan sun bear with his paws raised in surrender.

“Use of your helicopter for a priority transport. A hot date. Private time with said hot date. And, for criminals to learn not to run. From. ME!” I answered as I crossed the lobby in five quick lopes and placed my left paw around the self-proclaimed ‘Duke of Bootleg’.

“Ah!” Duke Weaselton screamed out, “Police brutality! Help me!”. The weasel tried to escape, but my grip was firm.

If I so wanted, I could make Duke a paraplegic with one. Simple. Squeeze.

“First bunny cop, then you! Why is my life like this?” the weasel proclaimed loudly. And then gulped when he came muzzle to muzzle with Chief Palmer.

“Simply leave Mister Weaselton with me, Ivan. I can sort out the error of his ways” the bear grinned evilly at having the city’s foremost pickpocket within his grasp, as he cracked his knuckles. “My precinct is at your disposal” the bear added as he took a shivering Weaselton to the interrogation room while his officers watched with wide eyes as they saw a new side to their chief.

“Time to try the unlisted phone” I muttered as I looked down and the call was ignored three times.

Six agents accompanied me to the roof. Agent Bellwether among them, dragging a recalcitrant Wilde.

I switched to the brick phone and dialled the number provided to me.

“Good morning, Chief Bogo. Is this a bad time?” I asked when the line was picked up at 0850. The helicopter pilot saluted me as we prepared to board the orange and white Dolphin helicopter. I returned the salute with one of my own and fastened my seatbelt.

=====================================================================================

“Oh. Hi Deputy Director…” Chief Bogo finally answered his phone in an alcove beside his private staircase.

A cluster of officers stuck their ears out of the still-open door to listen to the gruff buffalo suddenly turn meek as a lamb.

“No, of course I would have answered your calls. I just don’t have my official phone with me. Also, how did you get this number? Ah, alright. When can I expect you? Today? Fifteeen minutes? See you then” Chief Adrian Bogo allowed the other mammal to end the call and slumped against the wall.

Rubbing his horned head between his eyes, the current ZPD chief knew how much trouble he could be in. The mammal he was just talking to WAS the reason why former Chief Hornfrost was drooling on himself in a triple maximum security prison.

The cape buffalo could not decisively prove it, but believed that the snow leopard had been the driving force between the speedy trial and his own rise to the hot seat.

The only thing the cape buffalo had in mind is: Why now?

Shaking his horned head, the cape buffalo let out a breath as he picked himself back up and made his way back to the bullpen.

The assembled officers quickly pulled their ears back in and returned to their positions at the back of the room.

“So, Chief? What did my boss have to say?” the smug look on the painted hound’s face said it all.  

“Cappuccino, extra foam. No sugar” the cape buffalo replied as he grabbed his things from the podium and exited.

Lieutenant Higgins and Sergeant Andersen (polar bear) looked at each other and wept. The two officers were now out-of-pocket twice.

They need not have worried.

Salvacion was coming.

=====================================================================================

“What’d he say, sir?” Agent Bellwether asked over the helmet intercom system as the Dolphin took off from the helipad.

“Like a calf caught spraying graffiti on the headmaster’s car, he’ll take his punishment like a good boy” I answered as I switched phones once more to the Bureau line.

Holding it in my paws, I unlocked the screen and tapped out a return message to Agent Carmichael. I then switched to an ordering app and made an estimated guess on how many mammals would be joining me for the conference. Judging by how many mammals had been in the bullpen, as Agent Carmichael’s hilarious picture of all of them bunched up and scared, there were at least thirty-two officers on the morning shift. That was not counting the SWAT, desk sergeant, support staff, and the other two shifts.

I purposely left the chief out of the equation. He was rich enough to buy his own damn coffee.

I then tapped out a quick message to my favourite coffee shop in the city-state, Señor Salvacion’s Coffee and Doughnuts, for an order of four dozen assorted doughnuts and fifty cups of their finest Colombian roast coffee. I prepaid for it as I knew no one in the city ever carried such a big amount on them this early. I even left a note for whomever picked up the delivery that I had a $500 tip waiting if they got the items delivered to Precinct One by 0915.  

That done, I sat back and watched the glass-domed Precinct One building steadily get larger on the starboard porthole.

“Get ready for touchdown in five minutes” our pilot, Flying Officer Maurice Delgato (Marcus’ brother), informed us. “Unfortunately, there is no helipad on the Precinct One roof as City Hall said it ruined the aesthetic. We will be touching down in the police parking lot” the lion added.

=====================================================================================

Señor Salvacion Coffee and Doughnuts,

1200 Grassy Lane, Meadowlands District

0900 Hours

The smartphone by the counter pinged as a new order came in. The abuela by the counter checked it and her eyes got wide. Wiping her floured paws on her apron, she ran into the kitchen at the back of the bakery to go shout at her husband.

“Manolo! Your big tipper is back in town!” the abuela yelled out at a tiger half-inside a large mixing bowl. The tiger stood up rapidly and hit his striped head on the mixing blades.

“¡Maldita sea, mujer! ¡No me sobresaltes así!” [Damn it, woman! Don't startle me like that!]

“Hay una buena propina, si podemos llevarla a la Recinto Uno antes de las 9:15” she hurriedly informed her husband as she passed over the smartphone. [There is a good tip, if we can take it to Precinct One before 9:15]

Manolo Salvacion, a baker for the last 34 years, opened the phone to show the prepaid order and his eyes resembled dinner plates with how big they got. “¡Dios mío! ¡Esto es suficiente para alquilar este mes!” [Oh my gosh! This is enough for rent this month!]

“¡Maria! ¡Teresa! ¡Junior! ¡Métete en la cocina! ¡Tenemos cuarenta y ocho donas para empacar y cincuenta tazas de café para llenar!” the tigress shouted up the stairs to her family. [Maria! Teresa! Junior! Get into the kitchen! We have forty-eight doughnuts to pack and fifty coffee cups to fill!]

“¡Sí, mamá!” came three simulataneous shouts as three tigers rushed down the stairs from the apartment on the second floor (third floor for the Yanks). [Yes Mama!]

“Junior, preparas las tazas. María, prepara esas cajas y tenazas. Teresa, empieza a servir los cafés y haz una nueva tanda si se nos acaba. ¡Vamos!” the tigress informed the three younger ones as a whirlwind overtook the kitchen as the five mammals ran to put on aprons, wear gloves, prep the utensils and the boxes, coffee sleeves, creamers, sugars, stirrers, etc. [Junior, you prepare the cups. Maria, get those boxes and tongs ready. Teresa, start pouring out the coffees and make a new batch if we run out. Let's go!]

=====================================================================================

Simultaneously with the Salvacion family accepting the bulk rush order from the Deputy Director, a herd of delivery mammals had gathered near the watering hole to share a mid-morning break when their phones all pinged with the same order.  

“Oh my god. I’m not taking that” a hornless ram named Horace Hortense looked at his phone as he munched on an alfalfa cruller.

“Same” a rabbit named Jessica Topps as she scrolled down and noted the distance. She’d be practically killing herself fetching the treats from Meadowlands and bringing it back to Precinct One in City Centre.

“Who orders four dozen doughnuts and fifty coffees on a rush?” a melanistic wolf named Liam Wolford piped up from a nearby table as he sipped his own gratis latte. He spat out his coffee when he saw the starting destination. “Meadowlands? I’d rather pawcuff myself to the statue of Mayor Brunhilde than ride there!”

“Maybe your brother lost a bet?” Jessica and Horace both said. The two mammals then looked at each other and simultaneously announced “Score!” as they high-foured each other.

“I’ll take that order” a new voice joined in. The owner of said voice was a female dingo named Shiela and she was hovering her digit over the ‘Accept’ button when she noted the time of delivery and she sputtered. “Fifteen minutes. From Meadowlands? Who’s this drongo think he is? The traffic alone will kill me”. Shiela pressed ‘Decline’ instead.

A grizzly in blue heard the discussion and made his way over with his partner, a tiger.

“Say” the bear made his presence known to the delivery mammals and everyone’s fur puffed out. “my partner and I can make Meadowlands and back in fifteen. May I?” Liam Wolford passed his phone to ZPD Transit Officer Roald Bjørn and his partner, Sergeant Torvald Tordenskjold.     

“Come on Liam. You can be the one to present to the counter. Torvald and I will help you carry it” the transit police officers offered the wolf.

“How come you guys are being nice to me?” Liam asked suspiciously. These two would harass him when he was on deliveries just because he was not a cop like the rest of the family.

“Did any of you check who is asking for the delivery?” Sergeant Tordenskjold tapped the logo at the top of the phone.

Liam took his phone back from the tiger and gasped.

That was the official seal of the FBI!

“Yup” Roald continued as he heard a helicopter come in low through the buildings and looked up to see Precinct Two’s Dolphin land at the parking lot of Precinct One. “That’s probably him, right now” as the bear gestured with his head at the helicopter. 

“Okay, let’s go!” Liam shouted as he accepted the order and made tracks for the train station. Liam came back just as quickly when he realised that he had left his delivery bag and sheepishly got it from the extended hoof of a quietly laughing Horace.

“Better idea, clamber on me and we can use the Dolphin” Officer Bjørn replied as he gestured for the wolf to climb on his back. Once the wolf situated himself, the bear took off as a feral mammal would. Liam was enjoying the breeze as the bear ran at full tilt to the idling Dolphin helicopter, the wolf’s tongue hanging out of his mouth.

Torvald followed behind, chuckling all the while at how his partner was just an overgrown cub as he also ran.

=====================================================================================

“Touchdown” Flying Officer Delgato informed us when the wheels of the Dolphin touched the tarmac in the middle of the police station’s parking lot.

The rotor wash of the unauthorised landing enough to send small mammals flying through the air like squirrels, mice, lemmings, and voles.

Good thing the morning rush had already ended.

The door on the port side slid backwards and a goat officer wearing the rank insignia of captain opened his mouth to chew us out. The mammal’s jaw was left hanging as he noted that these were not ZPD officers on a joyride, but someone higher. 

“Sorry for the mess, Captain Geit. I needed a quick way to Precinct One and this was just sitting there begging to be used” I informed the astonished goat as I read his name plate and accurately deduced that he was here to chew us out.

“FBI Deputy Director Ivan del Morte” I introduced myself as the agents disembarked from the starboard side of the aircraft, Wilde was dragged along by Agent Bellwether before he could make a snarky remark.

“C-C-Captain Thomas Geit of Precinct One” the mountain goat shook my paw as he led me away from the whirling blades of the helicopter to the side entrance of the building. The goat left the port door open and Flying Officer Delgato’s co-pilot had to get down from the cockpit and close it.

Just as the other mammal reached the door, a grizzly bear and tiger in blue appeared. The bear had a passenger on his back who promptly slid off so the bear could enter the transport. Due to weight restrictions, the tiger had to go and sit in the starboard seat. The wolf sat in the centre with a delivery bag.

The co-pilot closed the door after having a brief discussion with the bear and rushed back around to the cockpit so they could take off.

The increased whine of the twin turbines and I knew that the helicopter was taking off. I turned to face the helicopter as the rotor wash flowed over me, almost sending the goat flying as he stumbled forward on his hooves. I caught him and slowly moved backwards into the station doors.

The very same doors that Officer Jackson had exited from earlier, but I did not know that.

=====================================================================================

Señor Salvacion Coffee and Doughnuts,

1200 Grassy Lane, Meadowlands District

0912 Hours

“Mama, did the app say who would be picking up the order?” Maria asked her mother as the boxes of four dozen assorted doughnuts were neatly boxed and tied. The coffee cups were placed in five metal racks stacked one on top of each other. Manolo would have to go with the delivery driver so the racks could be returned. Two more paper bags contained the napkins and stirrers, creamer, and sugar.

“It says that a Liam Wolford accepted the order and that he will be here in five minutes” the tigress answered her daughter’s question.

“Mama, it takes three hours to get here from City Centre! And that’s if there’s no traffic!” the daughter pointed out, making the elderly tigress worry.

“I - Do you hear that?” the tigress heard something approach them at high speed. The sound of turbines and whirling rotors meant … the tigress looked up and saw an orange and white police helicopter land in the front parking lot of their café.

It was a good thing that they had not set up the folding tables yet, otherwise these would be blown away.

“Agora, is the delivery vehicle here yet?” Manolo cried out to his wife as he exited the café with two bundles of four of the half-dozen doughnut boxes. Behind him, Junior and Teresa were wheeling out the metal racks with the coffee cups safe inside.

“¡Sí!” Agora answered, muttering under her breath, “I think so?” [Yes!]

The door to the helicopter opened and a wolf in delivery attire emerged with his head bowed as he quickly approached the waiting goods for transport.

Behind the wolf, a tiger and bear in ZPD blue also made their way forward to assist.

=====================================================================================

I was ignorant of my food order as I picked the mind of the goat captain. Agent Bellwether had already dragged a resisting Wilde to Conference Room B.

“So, you have been here since before Bogo became chief?” I asked.

“Very much so, Deputy Director. Why I even preceded Hornfrost, may he rest in hell, to be stationed here” the goat answered, the amusing revision to Rest in Peace causing my eyebrows to rise.

“Any amusing anecdotes from your time here?” I prodded the goat.

“Weeeellll,” the goat stalled for time as he stroked his beard, “I’d rather not. The walls have ears. Spotted ears if you catch my drift?” the goat had given a slight nod to a cheetah behind the front desk when he said ‘spotted ears’.

“Join the rest of the agents and I for coffee?” I offered the goat who thought about it before shaking his head.

“Thanks for the offer, Deputy Director. I will have to pass on that today as I don’t want to spoil my appetite. Another time?” the goat turned me down gently as he bid me goodbye and walked out the front doors of the atrium.

“What a nice mammal” I commented to open air and inadvertently made every cop in the station jealous that I managed to hold a decent conversation with the resident prick.

A ping on my phone drew my attention and I checked the order app for updates. According to the app, my order was on its way from Meadowlands. I smiled at that and put the phone away as I continued to traverse the atrium.

I paused mid-step as I parsed the information from whence my order came from. My tail twitched.

Pulling out the Bureau phone again, I checked that the origin of the doughnuts was indeed Meadowlands. I gave a low rumble of disgust that my coffee would arrive cold. But, since it was already on its way, there was no reason to cancel it. The poor delivery mammal would have to pay for the baked goods, and I would not inflict that type of punishment on the fellow who was trying his hardest.

As added incentive, I doubled the tip to $1000. It was the least I could do for sending the poor mammal out that far.

Not paying attention, I walked right into the fluffy wall that was Sergeant Andersen (polar bear) and bounced off.

I was immediately picked up off the floor and my suit lightly dusted by the bear as he set me to rights. The polar bear and his partner, a hippo, looked especially glum as they faced me.

In another universe, I would not care and send them on their way.

“Hey officers, what’s got you two so blue?” I asked the two. I noted that there were dried drops of a white substance on the collar of the hippo.

“Chief Bogo wants a cappuccino with extra foam and no sugar” the hippo with the rank insignia of lieutenant informed me with dead eyes.

“Chief Buffalo can buy his own coffee. Why don’t you two wait for mine to arrive?” I offered the two officers as I added a zing to Bogo’s name.

“All due respect sir, but we can’t accept favours from civilians” the polar bear with the sergeant stripes said in a low voice.

“I’m not. A civilian that is” I answered as I pulled my federal badge from my waist and showed it to them. It also exposed my hip holster.

“FBI Deputy Director Ivan del Morte” I introduced myself to the two officers who promptly fainted. Sergeant bear landed on lieutenant hippo, as if using the hippo as a bed.

“MEDIC!” I barked out and summoned a tired Officer Balrog who only sighed as he saw the two officers taking a nap.

“I swear” the bull muttered as he took out his medic bag to attend to the two downed officers, “you’d think it was Friday the 13^th super full blue moon with all the shit going wrong today”.

I left the bull to attend to his fallen comrades as I made my way over to the nervous-looking plump cheetah sitting at dispatch.

Agent Carmichael intercepted me before I could reach the cheetah.

“Sir,” Agent Carmichael stopped in front of me and halted my progress, “best if we just proceed to the Conference Room. Let’s not have a repeat of 0820 today”.

“Dare I ask what happened here at 0820 for you to intercept me?” I asked with such a dry look that Agent Carmichael took an automatic swig from his to-go Snarlbucks coffee.

“The short answer is I came in, showed my badge, paged Chief Bogo, and the precinct descended into chaos. The long answer gets a little complicated without video evidence” Agent Carmichael explained as the two of us moved away from a visibly relieved cheetah.

“As long as its not as bad as what happened at the Champs-Elysees, I see no reason to ask for the video” I answered, referencing another incident that almost soured diplomatic relations with the GIGN.

“It was not that bad, sir” Agent Carmichael assured me. I walked on ahead towards the lone elevator and did not hear the soft “It was worse”.

=====================================================================================

Dolphin One

Currently ten minutes away from Precinct One

Flying Officer Delgato

“Best coffee and doughnuts in all Zootopia?” he asked incredulously through the helmet intercoms of the sole proprietor of Salvacion’s Coffee and Doughnuts.

“Sí! That is no idle boast! We won a Michelin star for our triple glazed chocolate cake doughnut” Manolo Salvacion confidently assured the lion pilot through his own helmet.

“But, why so far? Why not in the City Centre where you can get more traffic?” Liam Wolford asked from his own seat, awkwardly trying to balance the eight boxes of large-mammal doughnuts.

“Same reason why Roald and I have to rent apartments away from Savannah. Money” Sergeant Tordenskjold answered for the tiger, who just nodded.

“Why not apply for housing with El Lobo Blanco Construcción y Arrendamiento, Inc.?” the lion pilot asked. “I am happily settled in the Sahara District apartment building near the station” he added.

“Wait, wasn’t that the one that the fox-owned realtor defaulted on?” Liam asked as he tried not to salivate over the boxes.

“Heard it got snapped up really quickly by some bigshot from the federal government. It houses a lot of agents and federal staff” Transit Officer Bjørn muttered sadly.

“Yeah” Torvald admitted with a soft sigh. The rates were well within his budget, but there was a waiting list. Even when some apartments vacated due to the agents being reshuffled out, more applicants filled in the slots.

One such apartment was a penthouse that had been sitting vacant for twelve years. Twelve!

No matter how many times he followed it up, the response was always the same. The apartment belonged to a general in the air force and it was not for lease.

Situated just three blocks away from Precinct One and Savannah Central Terminal Station, it would have been perfect for him and up to three other officers. It had the largest single lease at $40k and he was sure that others would jump at the chance to share it.

The sergeant had no way of knowing that a certain “token bunny” had been given the keys and lease. Not until the rabbit slipped up on where she was currently staying.

The ride turned sombre as everyone thought of the apartment complexes. Unlike Maurice Delgato and his co-pilot, who actually got first pick of the recently completed building as part of a city-wide Christmas raffle last year, the City Centre apartment drew the most applicants.

There was another apartment that had very few takers as it was situated in the bitter cold of Tundra. Even though it had a connecting bridge to the overhead monorail station at Frosty Road, not a lot of mammals signed up.

Those who did described it as being like an Art Deco hotel with golden fixtures everywhere.

As most of those who snapped up the apartments there worked at nearby Precinct Three and the Harbour Patrol Station, one could be forgiven for thinking that the complex only catered to polar mammals.

“Flaring for landing” Officer Delgato informed his passengers, making Liam’s tail start wagging as the wolf thought of the tip.

Liam would even get to rub it in the other delivery mammals’ noses that the tip had been quintupled!

On the wolf’s phone, the open delivery app showed that mammal who ordered had upped the tip to $2500 or fifty percent of the order. And increased the time for delivery to 1000.

Twenty-five hundred dollars would be a big help for Liam in his quest to attend ZooU.

“Touchdown!” Flying Officer Delgato informed the cabin as the Dolphin’s tires kissed the tarmac of the parking lot.

=====================================================================================

I heard a ping on my phone that the order had arrived at the station just as the elevator chimed at the second floor. Taking the Bureau phone out of my pocket, I was happy to note that the delivery mammal said he was outside the Precinct.

In my excitement, I stepped off the elevator and ran screaming down the stairs like a kit on Christmas Day.

Agents Bellwether, Carmichael, and von Kaggerak stood at the entrance to the conference room gobsmacked at my total loss of decorum.  

Nicholas was snickering at seeing myself lose it.

Special Agent Ethan Dusk, a melanistic grey wolf on the FBI HRT squad of von Kaggerak, was heard to utter, as he witnessed my performance: “Someone needs to lessen our boss’ caffeine intake”.

Someone else answered with “You want to tell him? Because I think hell will freeze over if we do that”.

Chief Bogo risked a peek out of his office at the squeal of joy, thinking that Clawhauser had found something to gush over.

Again.

Instead of a hyperactive cheetah, he saw a hyperactive snow leopard practically do cartwheels down the stairs of the precinct.

Chief Bogo then winced as I collided with SWAT Officer Fangmeyer and the two of us went tumbling.

In my haste to get to my delicious fried treats that I barely saw, I stumbled over Officer Balrog’s kneeling form and collided with SWAT Tactical Officer Fangmeyer (grey wolf) as the latter was reading from a clipboard. The wolf overbalanced and pulled me down with him in an impromptu hug.

The resulting impact with the marble flooring knocked the breath out of the two of us. I recovered first and asked in my sultriest falsetto voice as I lay across the wolf’s chest, “So, Officer Fangmeyer, you like to play rough?”.

I was then hastily shoved away across the waxed floor as the wolf scrambled to his feet and escaped back down to the armoury.

I couldn’t help it anymore.

I started chuckling, chortling, and then outright laughing.

“BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” I guffawed as I pounded the floor with my fists at the absurdity of it all.

While my laughter sounded light-hearted to my ears, everyone else in the precinct within hearing range of my voice shivered.

Benjamin Clawhauser’s good mood vanished from avoiding a potential confrontation. Instead, he chilled as the atrium seemed to darken and he would never be happy again.

Chief Bogo regretted cracking open his office door and now wanted to just go home and hug his daughter’s Gazelle plushie.

From Agent Bellwether at the conference room to the file clerk in the back offices, my laughter sounded like the cawing of crows (Agent Bellwether) to the whistle of the wind in a dark forest on a moonless night (Senior File Clerk Roberts).

Special Agent Hideki Tanuki on von Kaggerak’s squad hugged himself as he whispered in his native Japanese. “死神が笑うとき、すべての人は震え上がるだろう” [When Death laughs, all shall tremble]

Finally, my laughter tapered off and I picked myself off the floor. Removing a cloth napkin from my breast pocket, I dabbed at the tears that fell during my short burst of mirth. As I tucked the napkin back into my breast pocket, the Bureau phone rang.

Before the phone even started to ring out with the opening lines of the Panzerlied (I was feeling sentimental, okay?), I swiped to answer the call from an unregistered number.

“Hello? Yes, this is he. You’re where? Oh, did you bring some friends to help carry it all? You did? Splendid!” I answered the asked query and ended the call.

Reaching up to fix my tie, I whistled for at least one wolf to come and help as I walked out the side door to meet my delivery mammal.

“S-s-should we g-g-g-go?” Frank Wolford asked his twin as they peeked out of the twin doors leading to the bullpen.

“T-t-t-that c-c-call felt p-p-personal” Anthony stuttered out as he spoke up for the rest of the wolves who felt paralysed by the haunting laughter.

Officer Johnson (leucistic lion) shoved his way through the clustered wolves and muttered under his breath about superstitious canines.

“Welp, there he goes” Officer Stripes (zebra) commented as the mare followed her (possibly suicidal) partner to the side door.

=====================================================================================

Pushing the tinted double glass doors of the side entrance open, I was met by two tigers, one grizzly bear, one wolf, and one lion arguing amongst themselves. A third tiger just stayed off to the side, frowning.

Of all the mammals, only the wolf and the third tiger were not wearing ZPD colours. The helicopter I had taken earlier was powered down in the parking lot.  

“Oi, mates! What’s the hold-up!” I shouted in my best Outback Island accent.

“Arguing over the tip, sir!” Flying Officer Delgato shouted back with some glee.

At that point, I checked my phone and the name of the mammal with my delivery. The name, Liam Wolford, and the picture of a smiling melanistic wolf narrowed down who the tip should go to. I then checked the amount of the tip and groaned aloud.

It seems that when I put the phone back into my pocket, I had not closed the app and I had somehow pressed a tip that was half the amount of the delivery order.

I’m not saying that I could not afford it. Just that this would actually make the FBI accountant commit suicide as I was the most frugal of agents.

“Touch tips on your own time!” I shouted back and immediately regretted what came out of my mouth as every male mammal near me turned a unique shade of red.

An antelope and oryx actually fled from the benches near the station.

“Fuck it” I muttered under my breath. “LIAM WOLFORD, FRONT AND CENTRE!” I yowled out and summoned the melanistic wolf before me.  

The wolf was playing with his green delivery mammal’s cap and wondering if the large tip was about to be revoked as an error.

“Did I note that the tip would be $ 2500 if you got here within the time limit?” I asked the wolf who stood at the position of attention better than most Academy trainees did.

“Yes sir” the wolf replied crisply as he continued to stand at attention.

“Very well. I am a mammal of my word” I replied as I took out my wallet, opened it, and counted out twenty-five $100 dollar bills in full view of the four police officers. 

“Don’t spend it all in one place, cadet Wolford” I admonished the shocked wolf as I then turned my attention to the grizzly bear and tiger in ZPD blue dress uniforms. Sandwiched between the thirteenth and fourteenth $100 dollar bills was my FBI business card.

By this point, Traffic Officers Johnson and Stripes appeared at the door ready to help.

“And what, pray tell, caused two ZPD officers to start an argument in full view of the public?” I coldly asked the grizzly and his tiger sergeant.

“Sir, we have no excuses, sir!” the tiger, brass nameplate of Tordenskjold, replied as I would expect a recruit from boot to reply.

Neither mammal met my eyes, instead choosing to admire the plain building side.

“No, really” I pressed as I tucked my wallet back into my left trouser pocket, “Enlighten me as to your discussion”.

“We were talking about apartments, Deputy Director” Flying Officer Delgato replied as he also stood at the position of attention.

“Then, we talk as we walk. My coffee is getting cold” I informed them as I approached the third tiger and enveloped him in a hug.

“Entonces, esto es lo que hiciste con tu libertad” I whispered into the former FARC flight engineer’s ear. [So, this is what you did with your freedom]

“Yes, a pleasure to see you again” Manolo whispered back as he gave me a quick squeeze and spun me around.

“Everyone into the Precinct! I want my cup of coffee” I ordered as the boxes were quickly passed around and the five racks of coffee were wheeled in.

=====================================================================================

A pair of sheep watching the ZPD parking lot through high-powered binoculars took note of the snow leopard in a suit.

“Do we report back to Bellwether?” one of them asked as the other cursed.

“Fuck no! That’s The Federal Executioner! I’m not going near that guy!” the other replied as he ducked back down behind the concrete retaining wall of a construction site.

“I think you’re overreacting” the first one commented as the second wordlessly passed over the binoculars.

“That snow leopard? Pfft! I don’t see the challenge” the first ram commented as he watched the snow leopard bark orders out at six predators.

That was until he saw the snow leopard look in his direction and wink.

“Shit! I think he saw me” the first one informed the second as he slid down behind the wall.

“Are we still telling Bellwether?” the second asked he hurriedly packed up.

“Hell no! She’s on her own!” the first one replied as they both booked it. In their haste, they left a calling card.

=====================================================================================

I was admiring the new building under construction when a speck of dust lodged in my left eye and made me wink.

I blinked rapidly to try and clear the blockage, as my paws were full. Thankfully, the blockage went away on its own and I entered the employee entrance of Precinct One after my doughnuts and coffee.

I just hoped that no one saw me wink at the building, that would be embarrassing.

=====================================================================================

“Sir! Chief Bogo is ready for you” Agent Bellwether informed me after he had made his way down from the conference room and only blinked at the amount of food I ordered.

“Excellent, Agent Bellwether. Ask the security office of the precinct to delete the footage of me laughing if you would” I informed the helpful ram as I patted him on his shoulder. The ram winced and I wondered if I had under-ordered.

“Should I order some more, Agent Bellwether?” I asked the ram who rapidly shook his head in the negative.

“Here” I thrust one unopened cup of coffee into the ram’s hooves, “try this Colombian blend”.

Reflexively, the agent removed the seal and took a swig of the coffee. As with most mammals not used to the taste of pure goodness, the ram gagged, and dropped the cup into my waiting paw.

“Creamer and sugar just went up the stairs with Transit Officers Roald and Torvald” I informed my agent as he continued to cough.

“Bastard” the ram choked out as he continued to cough at the sheer bitterness, reaching for his water bottle on his hip.

“That’s my middle name, Agent! Don’t wear it out” I called back as I ascended the stairs back up to the conference room.

=====================================================================================

Liam Wolford could not believe it!

His second delivery of the day was comparable to two weeks of work in pay. The others would not even believe him unless he showed the bills.

As he recounted the bills on a bench outside Precinct One’s parking area, a card fell to the cobblestone. Pausing the count of the bills, Liam placed the amount into the fanny pack he wore, zipped it and bent over to pick up the card.

Turning it over, he saw the seal of the FBI embossed into the card. In the middle of the card was the name of the mammal he had been yelled at by and his title: FBI Deputy Director Ivan del Morte. Below the name was the mammal’s official contact line. At the back of the card, when Liam turned it just right against the sun, a wolf skull could be made visible.

Liam almost dropped the card in shock.

However, he heeded his father’s words to ‘Trust, but verify’. Angling the card in the same manner as before, he let out a sigh of relief that it was all an illusion conjured up by his mind. The symbol on the back was composed of two crossed sickles.

Calming his rapidly beating heart, Liam stood from the bench and made his way back towards the Watering Hole where the other delivery mammals gathered as they waited for orders.

He tucked the card into his billfold and forgot all about it as he waved at Jessica, Shiela, and Horace. A kangaroo had also arrived named Lawrence.

Boy, did he have a story for them!

=====================================================================================

Conference Room B

Precinct One

1000 Hours

“Chief Bogo, officers. Thank you for coming” I addressed the assembled crowd of forty mammals.

Each had at least one of Manolo’s delicious pastries on a paper plate before them and a cup of the equally invigorating coffees.

The former flight engineer had already left with Flight Officer Delgato back for his bakery with good news. If his hopeful smile was anything, he would be moving into the Rainforest apartment complex within the year. Part of the ground floor had been set aside for a business and I wanted the tiger to take it. The lease agreement would be a mere formality to satisfy the need for paperwork. I had a hunch that being closer to the city would make his demand increase.

For Transit Officers Roald and Torvald, they had to ask permission from Officer Hopps if they wanted to move into the penthouse apartment with her to share the rent. Of course the rabbit agreed and the two ZPD Transit Police Officers could move in next week, halving all their commutes.

Nick, being a pain in the ass, was seated beside Officer Hopps. Officer Hopps was busy polishing off a carrot cake doughnut.

To Bogo’s eternal consternation as he could not fire the rabbit with the FBI there.

I stood behind a podium and, with the help of a laser pointer, was circling the next phase of our desert assault.

“As can be seen from this area here on the projection, this will be the first prong of a multi-faceted assault against the Triple Hump gang in Sahara District” I informed the officers as SWAT took notes.

“The first thing we need to do is remove the civilians from the line of fire. Unfortunately,” and here Agent Carmichael (and Chief Bogo) winced, “there is no telling if the civilians are actually sympathisers or innocent bystanders. Look for the signs and stay frosty. That’s all I can give you as I do not specialise in frontal assaults”.

“Second, in accordance with Chief Greg Palmer of Sahara, his precincts take the lead in this operation” I held up a paw to forestall any complaints. “They know the area better than you do, have trained for likely scenarios and escape routes, and have a better grasp on the situation on the ground. I want Precinct One to act as a reserve force in case SD’s precincts run into anything tougher than a mammal with a gun”.

“Third, I was able to secure some aid from the navy and air force” I pointed at Sahara’s waterfront and Agent von Kaggerak placed two magnets onto the whiteboard to symbolise the two destroyers on ‘exercise’. “The destroyers Arleigh Burke and Dorothy Miller can provide offshore naval bombardment while I have been assured of UCAV support by the air force.”

“Fourth, I was not lying earlier this morning when I received orders to raise the black flag. The President, with the backing of Congress, has authorised us to take no prisoners. Not one of these … animals will live to see a courtroom” I almost spat at the word ‘animals’, my tail bristling out behind me.

“Fifth, the chiefs and I will be in a command vehicle near the action. If any of you hear the radio call of ‘Broken Arrow’, pull out immediately. I don’t care if you have to leave equipment behind. PULL. OUT. IMMEDIATELY!”

“Sixth, a two security cordons are to be maintained around the site at all times. The inner one is composed of blocking units of officers certified in lethal weapons training. The outer cordon will be the cruisers and trucks with officers certified with non-lethals. Assume that everyone inside the perimeter is armed. I don’t want to hear that someone used the excuse that they forgot something to re-enter the exclusion zone. To paraphrase your chief, ‘You strike out, you resign’. Clear?”

“I open the floor for questions” I then informed the officers.

A wolf in a ZPD round neck shirt raised his paw.

“Sir, what happens when you sound that call?” the female sounding voice making me doubt I got the gender correctly.

“And you are?” I queried as I did not actually know most of the officers. My Bluefang was currently charging under the podium and my normal way of asking was cut off.

“Officer Hannah Wolford, sir” the wolfess answered.

“Well, Officer Hannah, that means something way above your security clearance has been found and specialist teams are going in” I let the officers know without actually giving out what the term meant.

None of the officers present, save for Chief Bogo, Captain Geit, Captain Tordenskjold (Torvald’s father), Chief Palmer, and SWAT Commander al-Moustafa had a clearance that would allow them to hear it.

If Chief Bogo could break out in cold sweat, he would. That very same line was what he had used against Officer Hopps, and he was sure the office was empty when he was reprimanding her.    

“Sir” Officer Marcus Delgato raised his paw and I pointed at him. “What will the federal agents do while ZPD secures the outer and inner perimeters?”

“What we do best, Officer Delgato. Crushing the insurgency before it consumes the world” I answered as I smiled a grin full of teeth at the lion.

“Kick-off is at 1200 hours when the sun is at its peak. Bring extra water and body armour with you, but keep your eyes peeled. A lot can go wrong very quickly” I ended the briefing at 1045 hours.

=====================================================================================

USS Arleigh Burke

DDG-51

Combat Information Centre (CIC)

1100 Hours

“Sir! New orders from CINCLANT” a petty officer ripped off a sheet of paper from a printer and presented it to Captain Thomas Woodridge. [Commander in Chief, Atlantic]

The captain, an orphaned grey wolf adopted by a family of bears, read the order and smiled.

“Helm, come about to One Eight Zero. We are to make best speed until we reach Checkpoint Viola” the captain informed his helmsmammal.   

“Aye, coming about to One Eight Zero. Best speed to Checkpoint Viola” the helmsmammal confirmed the order by repeating it back.

“Bosun (Boatswain), sound General Quarters” the captain informed the stout badger.

“Aye, sound General Quarters” the badger responded as he made his way to the 1MC and blew his whistle in that two-tone sound that sent every mammal to a new stage of alertness.

“General Quarters, General Quarters! All hands, mam your battle stations! Set Condition Zulu all throughout the ship. Port, down and back. Starboard, up and forward. Dog all hatches and seal all bulkheads. I repeat, General Quarters” as the two-tone alarm went out as mammals were galvanised into action and rushed to their assigned stations. Those who were sleeping after coming down from watch stations immediately leapt up and ran to Engineering, first and secondary aid stations, the CIC; pulling on flash protection as they went.  

The destroyer, and her sister, moved at full speed down the Polar Strait channel until they breached into the warm air of Sahara. Fog from the convergence of two opposing climate systems forming a barrier against sight.

To be greeted by a four-vic flight of F/A-18 Hornets of VF-11 stationed on USS Nimitz as they performed a flyby over their fellow squids.

“Dynamo (Arleigh Burke’s callsign for the operation), this is Squid, we heard you need some precise hitters?” the lead pilot in the formation called down to the ship.

“Copy that Squid. We’re proceeding to Checkpoint Viola” the radio operator, replied to the pilot.

A new voice came down the line via a secure channel that superseded local control.

“All units in the area. This is Citadel, send traffic. Establishing orbit at Three-Five-Zero (35,000 feet)” the voice of the airborne controller onboard a heavily modified Boeing 707C broke through the chatter.

“Copy that, Citadel. Dynamo and Turbine are reaching Checkpoint Viola” Captain Woodridge replied to the Air Force plane circling over the city.

“Stand by for mission directives” Citadel informed the destroyers and the off-shore aircraft carrier.

Chapter Text

Just across the bay from the Sahara District’s beach promenade, increased activity at Fort Drum piqued the interest of some beachgoers. Especially so when three UH-60 Blackhawk helicopters flew overhead, the thrum of the rotors and the whine of the turbines enough to wake even the most heavy of sleeper.

The four observation glasses still functional under a faded marquee that once read Carl Zeiss Optics were immediately commandeered by eager mammals wanting to find out why the base had suddenly gone active.

A badger wearing a fanny pack around his waist had just fed the observation glass with two quarters for a half hours’ worth of viewing when someone screamed, “GET DOWN!” and tackled him as bullets impacted the glasses.  

Covered in bits of glass and metal parts, the badger was just glad he was not hit. As he rolled onto his back, he came face-to-face with a crazed camel pointing a sawed-off double-barrel shotgun between his eyes. The badger held his paws up to show he was no threat and the camel just grinned as it pulled the trigger.

The badger closed his eyes and prayed that the shot would kill.

His prayers were answered as a high-powered zing sounded and hot fluid sprayed onto him. Opening his eyes in shock, he saw the camel fall over backwards with a new hole in its head.

Five more zings sounded, and he saw that his fellow beachgoers had been held at gunpoint by equally crazed camels. The camels toppled over onto the wooden planks that made up the sidewalk of the old boardwalk, all with shots through their heads.

The badger heard the rapid beat of rotorblades and risked opening his eyes heavenward. He met the welcome sight of armed soldiers stepping onto the hot sands, and advancing against the remaining camels who had taken hostages.

One of the soldiers knelt beside him and looked him over for any injuries. The bag with a cross marking this one as the medic.

“Sir, are you injured anywhere?” the caprid holding the bag asked the badger, who only dully shook his head. The badger heard, rather than saw, bodies hit the sand. As he tried to look around the helmeted caprid, the medic brought his attention back to him.

“Sir, I need you to follow my hoof. I have to check for a concussion” the medic continued to ask him as more shots sounded off in the distance. The badger slumped forward, and the medic saw multiple glass shards of varying lengths sticking out of the badger’s back.

“This is ODA Five Nine Five at the old observation deck at the lower boardwalk. Requesting a medevac for one male badger, early thirties. Shrapnel wound through the chest cavity” the caprid called it in via the rig in his helmet.

“That’s affirm, Five Nine Five. Birds in the air” was the last thing the badger heard before it all faded to black.

=====================================================================================

Operation Desert Hoover

2^nd Armoured Infantry Brigade, Animalian Army

Pierpont Bridge Entry into Zootopia

Colonel Albert Paca, Officer Commanding

“Colonel, I can’t let you boys in” the tollgate operator stated at the furious-looking alpaca standing from the command hatch of a M2 Bradley Infantry Fighting Vehicle as the toll bar remained closed, halting the speedy advance of the armoured brigade from its base at the nearby Fort Burr.

“And, I’m telling you that I am going to ram that gate unless you open it” Colonel Paca informed the tollgate operator.

“Perhaps if you showed documentation that Zootopia has a parade or something, I can let you guys through” the tollgate operator, a bored-looking water buffalo, continued to delay the armoured brigade.

“Fuck it! We’re going through! Driver, RAM IT!” the colonel had given up arguing with some chickenshit civilian whose only experience of war was through National Geographic. The Bradley rolled forward and snapped the plastic barricade in the same manner that a child breaks a popsicle stick. Following behind were nine other Bradleys, a bevy of Humvees, and a line of tanker trucks for the petrol-guzzling behemoths.

The water buffalo only shrugged his shoulders indifferently as the entire brigade passed through the wrecked barrier. When the last tanker truck had entered, he simply got an orange cone and placed it in the centre of the toll lane. The buffalo then placed a sign in the window that he was now on break as he left the booth.

“Which way are we headed, Cobb?” the colonel asked his driver over the intercom system.

“Souq Tarif. That’s the assault area” Cobb replied to the colonel as he steered the tracked IFV on the tarmac roads of Savannah Central.

“How far away are we?” the colonel asked.

“Thirty minutes sir at max speed” Cobb replied as they barrelled down one of the main highways to the desert district of Zootopia.

“Punch it. We’ll just have to worry about it breaking when we head home” the colonel informed his driver in the command vehicle Bradley.

“Yes sir, she’s floored” the driver replied as the Bradley passed stopped vehicles and blazed through stop lights as if they were mere suggestions.

“Victor One-Four, this is Citadel. How far are you from the staging area?” the voice of the aerial controller came sliding through the airwaves.

“Citadel, we are twenty-five mikes from Souq Tarif. Where is the staging area?” Colonel Paca asked of the aerial controller.

“Staging area for armour is in front of Vornoy Plaza”

“Non-combatants have been cleared?” the colonel asked, wishing to avoid killing fellow Animalian citizens.

“There are no non-combatants in that area. Black Flag Operation is in effect” came the chilling response from the airborne controller and the colonel was quiet.

“Citadel, are we absolutely sure everyone is hostile?” the colonel pushed for more intelligence, not wanting a repeat of that little town in Afghanistan that was said to be hostile. The Air Force had wiped it off the map, only for the images of dead kits displayed for the world to see.

“Shinigami will be fair about it” the operator replied and the colonel felt chest pain.

He had worked once with Shinigami. The wolf was never fair about anything. Whoever the new one was, he hoped that this one still had a heart.

=====================================================================================

Precinct One Atrium

1205 Hours

“Talk to me” I answered the Bluefang as Chief Bogo had gathered his officers for a last-minute reminder.

“What do you mean the camels tried taking hostages?” I asked the question that made the atrium hush.

“Where are they now?” I continued to press. “I see. Tell Dynamo, TLAM use approved” I closed my eyes at the sheer luck of the Fort Drum heliborne units leaving early and intercepting camels who wanted to use mammal shields.

On the video projection’s feed, a column of fire lifted up from the USS Arleigh Burke as the vertical launch system (VLS) let loose a Tomahawk cruise missile. This was followed by another launch from the Miller and two cruise missiles were on their way for a date with destiny.  

“Get your asses moving!” I then shouted at the officers as everyone paused to watch the missile launch. The officers looked at their chief first for confirmation. In half a beat, he said the same thing “What are you waiting for? MOVE!”.

In the mad scramble for vehicles, Officer Hopps was effectively sidelined as there were no cars in her size. No way was Chief Bogo going to let her anywhere near the operation in her traffic cart. Which, now that I think about it, was left at Big’s Tundratown manor.

I had not forgotten about the missing mammals, and I knew there were at least four abandoned facilities inside the city-state that could ostensibly be used to house them. Of those four, two were in highly populated areas and could be safely ruled out. Two lay in areas that had restricted access to them and all-around fields of fire.

So, it was a toss-up between Cliffside Mental Asylum and Happy Days Home for Seniors in Shady Place near the slum of Happytown.

Both were built on cliffs, and both were unapproachable except from one direction. Both had also been shut down by the city as being unsafe.

Officer Hopps may not be able to join us, but I had more teams of agents than just the four round-the-clock security teams.

In the essence of time, I voted to take both locations. My deadline had some leeway. It was not 48 hours, as I told Antonio. I had 48 days.

Hopps would go to Cliffside and bring a satellite phone with her to call for additional units. Special Agent von Kaggerak’s HRT team would go with her. The Rainforest apartment complex residents were wholly composed of off-duty agents, and she had a reserve to tap into. With Agent Ramirez emotionally compromised, and Agent Bellwether leaving to ‘check-up’ on his cousin at City Hall, I would have to send Agent Shaeffer and Talon Team to the Happy Days Home.

Nick was supposed to stay with me as I sat with Chief Bogo and Chief Palmer inside the Command Truck.

In the event, Nick gave my security the slip to join the rabbit.

=====================================================================================

Souq Tarif

1215 Hours

Mahmoud’s Palace of Antiquities

A camel smoking on a hookah noted that there was increased agitation amongst the Triple Hump Gang. He had already heard one of them talk that they had lost their scouts chasing a teeny fennec near Precinct Two.

Some of the others had heard heavy weapons fire come from that area and several federal helicopters had overflown the area where the fennec was last spotted. Neither the scouts nor the initiates had reported back and no one was answering their phones.

As the hookah den began filling up with the agitated gang members, the camel calmly got up, and went to the counter where he paid for the use of the waterpipe. None of the gang paid him any notice.

They had gotten used to the one-eyed camel always stopping here for his daily smoke.

As soon as the camel had turned into the open-air market filled with the gang, he took out an old mobile phone from his pocket and started composing a short message to his beloved Fatima. Even if accosted, he could show the gang members that he was simply asking his beloved to have his dinner ready after the evening prayers.

He waved a simple goodbye to the gate guard, a warthog dishonourably discharged from TUSK for police brutality. The mammal was always glued to his phone. The constant short grunts and pants emanating from the guard shack left little to the imagination on what the warthog was doing.

The camel continued walking home, even as the streets cleared due to the heat of the midday sun.

Some called him crazy; others said it was his penance as he was still childless.

Fools the lot of them.

The reason he walked was because of the drone above his head, watching him and monitoring any watchers from the gang.

He had been present at the Souq for a decade now, gathering intelligence and making friends. Masquerading as a spice merchant, CIA Special Agent Mahmoud al-Masrani had been pinged that a large operation was imminent and that he needed to get out.  

No sooner than the camel had cleared the minimum blast radius, a Tomahawk cruise missile glided in and struck the centre of the market. A second Tomahawk landed on the antique shop where the gang had gathered, killing most of them.

Walking calmly, he met the advancing elements of the 12^th Infantry Brigade and he allowed himself to be escorted out of the security cordon as a noncombatant. He was frisked for weapons, and the only things he had on him was his mobile phone and his billfold.

As he now sat beside the few actual noncombatants, he sipped from a cup of Assam tea. His decade-long surveillance at an end.

He just hoped that Fatima had his meal ready when he went home.

=====================================================================================

FBI Mobile Command Centre

300 Palm Avenue

Sahara District

1255 Hours

FBI Deputy Director Ivan del Morte

I sat watching the screens as soldiers from the 12^th Infantry Brigade, 2^nd Armoured Infantry Brigade, the 124^th Drone Attack Wing, and elements of ZPD SWAT cleared the smoking remnants of the Souq Tarif near Big Dune.

Chief Bogo and Chief Palmer were nursing cups of cola as the air-conditioning struggled in the desert heat.

“Command, this is Chalk Four. We have positive IDs on the gang members. Looks like the TLAMs took out most of the lower ranks and all the leadership” an ID flashed on the screen as Chalk Four, Sergeant Evans’ squad from Army Rangers 2^nd Battalion.

“Citadel, I want all the gang members accounted for. Have the troops scour the wreckage for documentation” I informed the airborne controller who in turn passed it down to the troops.

“Command, that might be a bit difficult. Lots of charred bodies here” an ID flashed from Pfc. Gilroy of the 12^th IB, Company B.

“We got a live one over here!” an ID flashed with the name and rank of 1Lt. Nando of the 2^nd AIB, Company C.

“Show me the mammal’s face. Point it up towards the sky” I informed Citadel who dutifully passed it on.

As the burnt camel’s muzzle flashed on-screen, muzzle recognition gave a 99% match to an al-Qaeda member who had escaped capture for a decade. His real name was not known. His title was ‘The Butcher of Kabul’.

“Bag and tag him. That’s the mammal from Operation: Enduring Freedom’s Ace of Clubs. Who found him?”

“Uh, I did sir” the ID flashed onscreen as Pvt. Loganberry of 12^th IB, Company A.

“Then you and your buddies earned a pass after this op is done. I’ll get the Agency to clear it with your unit” I informed the hare, Citadel duly passing it on.

“Thanks, sir. I’ll just settle for the bastard who took my sister, sir” Pvt. Loganberry answered.

“Wait, what bastard?” I asked, frowning. Citadel stopped that message from broadcasting.

“Command wants to know who took your sister, soldier” Citadel instead asked the hare.

“Some shifty-looking caprid went through our town. Not relevant right now sir” the hare answered as he continued to search with his unit.

“Citadel, bring Private Loganberry to the Command Centre. He and I will be having a talk after this op” I requested from the airborne controller.

“Of course, sir. He’ll be there after the search is complete” the controller promised as his voice rang out in the truck.

“Deputy Director, if that really is your title, may I ask what you do with insubordinate agents?” Chief Bogo asked.

“I don’t have insubordinate agents, Chief Bogo. They are pushing up daisies in some country’s forests. Why? Is there a problem officer you need to disappear?” I asked with a toothy grin that made all the agents in the truck look elsewhere.

The security brief for the agents in the truck were to look away if I smiled at anyone in the truck and leave them to their fate. That brief came straight from the desk of FBI Director Jack Savage, one of the few read into my unique situation.

“Or is it a personal issue with a newly arrived officer?” I mimicked his exact timbre and pitch. Chief Palmer downed his entire bottle of soda in one go. He wanted no part of this.

“Is it you I have to make disappear?” I asked as I approached the cape buffalo, who was figuratively sweating bullets.

“Command, this is Citadel. There appears to be a bunker underneath the remains of the souq. TLAM did not touch it” the radio broadcast from the airborne controller cut the tension in the truck.

“Looks like you get to live, chief. Saved by the bell” I informed the scared cape buffalo as I turned back to the rig I took off when I confronted the chief. My tail twitching behind me.

“Say again, Citadel? Did you say bunker?” I asked the airborne controller, my voice neutral. As if nothing had ever happened.

=====================================================================================

Chief Bogo was having trouble breathing.

He thought the snow leopard was just another pencil-pusher given power.

He was so…so…wrong.

The snow leopard was a predator at their most primal. A feral predator hidden by a veneer of civility.

As he had stared into those ice-blue chips that the predator called eyes, he saw his death approaching.

When the snow leopard turned away, he could breathe again.

A nudge from Chief Palmer made him turn to the Tibetan sun bear offering a hip flask of something alcoholic.

“Thanks” he told the sun bear who nodded gravely. He coughed at the sheer alcohol content as it burned his throat.

“You know” Chief Palmer started talking. “I used to know him before he got like this. Good kit, decent parents. Was always a joy to be around at Precinct Three”.

“Do I dare ask what happened?” he asked his subordinate.

“His parents died to a mugging gone wrong. He fell in with the wrong crowd. Escaped when he got beaten to an inch of his life. Last I heard he wanted to apply to the ZPA, then dropped off the face of the earth”. Chief Palmer then pauses as he looks with apprehension at the snow leopard barking out a rapid stream of orders, “Reappears with a security clearance so high that it makes your eyes bleed, can kill anyone on the street without fear of prosecution, has federal agents at his beck and call, knows your deepest, darkest secrets. I don’t know where he disappeared to. But whoever got him to this point” Chief Palmer pointed with a pen at the now irate snow leopard and dropped his voice, “has to be from the Spooky House”.

“What do I do?” Chief Bogo asked.

“Just try not to get on his bad side. I found that out the hard way when I tried to playfully grapple him like we used to. I found myself on my back, a blade at my neck, and a pistol in my face” the bear admitted. “He apologised of course, but I could see that he had the eyes of a killer”.  

=====================================================================================  

“Citadel, how is the bunker door holding up?” I asked the controller as the troops had placed explosives to breach the door, to no avail.

“Anything less than a tank shell and its not cracking, sir.” Citadel answered.

“I have an idea. Clear the troops and get the Burke to launch another Tomahawk. Theoretically, the payload should blast a hole wide open in the door, right?” I informed the controller of my idea and he agreed it had merit.

“Let me crunch some numbers sir” the controller replied as the line went silent for a bit.

“Okay sir, the eggheads have agreed that one TLAM won’t destroy the entire bunker complex. Burke is firing now, sir” the airborne controller replied as another VLS cell opened on the Arleigh Burke and a new cruise missile launched, bound for the city.

“Ayesha,” I addressed a coyote in a pantsuit, acting as the controller for local and federal units, “how soon can we have ZPD clear the remaining structures. I have a bad feeling creeping up on me regarding Hopps”.

“Not long sir. As soon as the bunker is cleared, I can hold the fort while you head to Rainforest” Special Agent Ayesha Actnobil replied.

The coyote then frowned as new information came in her set. “Deputy Director, Talon squad has just cleared the Happy Days Retirement Home. It’s been empty for the last three decades. But we may need to get ZPD involved. The squad found a lot of bodies, some look recent”.

“Chief Bogo” I called to the cape buffalo, who turned to me with a small look of shock.

“Agent Actnobil here has a building full of dead bodies. Some look recently killed. Who is your chief in Rainforest, and we can turn the case over?” I asked as I noted that the soldiers were making progress now that the bunker door had been caved in by the overpressure of the cruise missile strike.

“You don’t want it, Deputy Director?” Chief Bogo asked in a small voice, as if scared of being reprimanded.

“Nah” I smiled at the chief, who inwardly shook with terror, “I have bigger fish to fry”.

=====================================================================================

1305 Hours

Hidden Bunker

1Lt. Avraham Nandos,

Company Charlie,

2^nd Armoured Infantry Brigade

“Tighten up, guys. This place gives me the creeps” the Ethiopian wolf officer informed his lead element as he peeked the corner with his M16A2.

The wolf had taken to heart the principle that officers lead from the front, not commanding from the rear in comfort.

He and his element had voluntarily dismounted from the Bradleys to help the 12^th IB in clearing the bunker complex.

So far, the wolf and his platoon had found the shattered and bloody remains of camels from where the bunker door had caved in.

Going inside the complex, two squads of commandoes had appeared from an alcove and disappeared just as quickly.

Now, the lieutenant was wondering if they were even there at all.

Due to how the bunker was constructed, he and his team had lost connection with Citadel just ten meters in.

“Citadel, how copy? This is Chalk Three from Victor Three. How copy?” the wolf could hear his radiomammal softly call out the airborne controller. As the wolf looked back, he could see the caracal shake his head in the negative.

“See if you can raise anyone else in this godforsaken complex, Todd” the lieutenant informed the caracal who tried one of the local frequencies.

Oddly enough, the wolf and his elements had yet to fire their weapons. As they continued to advance into the semi-lit bunker, they had yet to encounter any resistance.

This did little to calm their nerves as the platoon got hyperalert every time they approached an intersection. To keep from getting lost in the maze, the team marked each intersection with a swallow in chalk.

The distant sounds of weapons fire soon drew the attention of the wolf as he made held up his right paw and made a fist, signalling the team behind him to tighten formation and stop movement. Another set of gestures sent a two-mammal squad forward to check it out.

The distinct PRING of a tripwire activating caused the wolf to dive on his radiomammal as the corridor in front of them exploded, engulfing the first two mammals in fire. His mammals’ screams were cut short by two shots as the same special operations team from before emerged from an open door.

To the wolf’s eye, there appeared to be a trail of blood coming from inside the room.  

“Keep your goddamn squad quiet, or we make you quiet” the lead mammal, a feline of some persuasion, ordered him as they bypassed the burning conflagration through a secondary tunnel that the wolf officer failed to notice. “Follow us back to the surface. We mapped out the place already for a controlled detonation” the lead soldier ordered them.

Correction: the CIA Black Operatives.

The lieutenant knew he would be on his knees when he got back to base. The rabbi would see a lot more of him.

=====================================================================================

1305 Hours

Hidden Bunker

S/Sgt. Ramone Ephremio,

Company Delta,

12^th Infantry Brigade

“Hold up” the lion whispered to his squad as he listened to nervous mammals talk just around the corner from where he and the lead elements of his squad were.

“Frost,” he beckoned the arctic fox forward and mimed pulling a pin from a grenade.

The arctic fox removed a flashbang from his assault vest and palmed it, ready to remove the pin on his sergeant’s say-so.

The lion pointed at the arctic fox and with a few quick paw gestures let him know to peek around the corner, toss the flashbang, wait for the bang, and clear the area.

In a textbook manner, the fox pulled the pin and hurled it hard enough to bounce off the opposite wall at an angle to land between the nervously conversing mammals. The flashbang then exploded, and the resultant chaos had the fox duck back in to fill the mammals with lead.

“The pigs found us!” someone shouted as a sharp smacking sound filled the corridor before mammals dropped to the floor from numerous 9mm Parabellum rounds impacting vital areas for fatal hits.

Cool, calm, and collected, just like his big sister Skye with the FBI, Corporal Ethan Frost made short work of the terrorists that had dared to set up shop in his hometown with his issued H&K MP5A1.  

“Hallway clear, sarge. Move up” the arctic fox declared as he knelt in a firing position, aiming down one end of the T-junction. As the rest of the squad filed past, the fox waited until the very last moment before pulling out a fennec from under one of the dying camels.

“What did you think was going to happen when you joined the gang, Morie?” the arctic fox looked down at his one-time friend with sorrow as he reached behind him for a pair of zip ties and secured the fennec’s arms behind his back.

“Corporal, command said that we take no prisoners. Put a bullet in his head and move on” S/Sgt. Ephremio informed the arctic fox over the local radio network.

“I know, sarge. I’ll be there shortly” the arctic fox informed his sergeant as he aimed his rifle at his silently-glaring one-time acquaintance and fired.

By the hole in the wall beside the fennec, the fox could not bare to terminate his former playmate and instead offered a choice. Join the camel corpses or tag along to point out traps from the defenders.

The fennec took the latter option and rode on the arctic fox’s shoulders, pointing out tripwires and boobytraps.

S/Sgt. Ephremio did not know if he would congratulate his corporal or reprimand him when the fennec had shown up sitting on the fox’s shoulders. But the impassioned plea from his corporal to “Just trust me on this one. Please” let the lion give his corporal one chance.

If his ‘friend’ screwed up, the lion would write two letters back. One for the fox, the other for the fennec.

Chapter Text

1305 Hours

Cliffside Mental Asylum

Rainforest District

Officer Judy Hopps

The rabbit could not believe her luck!

She had continued to be part of the FBI Deputy Director’s operations. He had even provided her with equipment, a team, and transport to one of the suspected sites where the missing mammals were being held. She may only be certified with the Mark 1 tranquiliser projectile thrower, but she was a good shot.

The only downside was that the fox had managed to tag along. The red fox swearing that his 48 hours were not up anyway.

Special Agent von Kaggerak had then dressed up the fox in spare body armour, helmet comms, first aid kit, and the fox’s choice of primary or secondary.  To no one’s surprise, the fox even looked the part of an agent as he lifted up his helmet and winked his emerald eyes at her. Unfortunately, Judy had to turn over her phone to the FBI agents who placed it in a special lockbox that would deaden cellular signals.

“Come on, kits. This is a recce mission only. No telling what they’ll do to the missing mammals if we go in guns blazing” the wolf special agent chivvied them into waiting SUVs.

The five-car convoy had departed Precinct One ten minutes after the rest of the station did. She had waved to the cheetah at the front desk, who waved back before pushing a button under his desk that locked the station down until the afternoon shift would check in.

The thirty-minute trip was punctuated by the crackling of the police scanner and the agents joking with one another. 

Nick was in the car behind Judy’s and his companions only knew the fox as the somewhat annoying informant of the FBI Deputy Director.

The SUVs went flying out onto the highways at Code Three, the light traffic parting around them. At the Tundratown, Rainforest, and Savannah Central interchange, the agent driving the lead SUV with Judy had joked that this would be easier than if they took Maintenance Tunnel 6B from Tundra to Rainforest.

Approaching the former mental asylum Nick, and Agent von Kaggerak, both made the comment that the lights were on.

The facility was supposed to be abandoned.

The SUVs had switched off their sirens and strobes before they crested the hill leading to the facility. The SUVs then turned off the road into a heavy stand of trees that once served as the parking lot for the mental asylum.

The agents disembarked as cars’ engines were switched off. With how windy the area was, the agents were taking no chances that the exhausts could be smelt downwind. The winds may be able to disperse the scent, but why take the risk? Especially if the mammals guarding the facility had sensitive noses and could sound the alarm.

“Check it out” Agent von Kaggerak let Officer Hopps know as he passed her an ACOG sight taken from one of the assault rifles. “Tell me what you see” the wolf asked of her.

As Judy peered through the scope, she began to count the guards softly. Two wolves were at the guardhouse and only entry point to the asylum proper. Judy swept the borrowed sight carefully and made out six more wolves at the sweeping entrance. Oddly, there appeared to be a limousine parked behind a white panel van.

“Eight wolves?” Judy informed the FBI agent.

“There has to be more inside the facility. While my team and I trained extensively for missions like this, we will be going in blind. Can you and Cadet Wilde do a quick info gathering? Normally, I won’t ask this as we have a pretty good handle on what to expect. As the Deputy Director is overseeing the operation in Sahara, my primary intelligence is cut off” Agent von Kaggerak informed Officer Hopps.

“How do I get videos if I don’t have my phone?” Officer Hopps asked.

“Right, ZPD hasn’t gotten around to it yet. See this little lens on our vest?” Agent von Kaggerak tapped a small lens near the centreline of the vest. “This is a bodycam and it records video and audio. Is recording right now, in fact. And has been since we left Precinct One”.

“Guys, I hate to break up the huddle” Nick interrupted them in a whisper, “but a storm is brewing. The air smells rather funky to me” 

Agent von Kaggerak looked at Nick like he had grown two heads. “Do I have something on my face?” Nick asked.

“That’s an excellent idea, cadet Wilde. We wait for the storm and use it for cover. The guards will lower their alertness and we can take them out with non-lethals” Agent von Kaggerak agreed and detailed out a plan of attack for the agents to follow.

“Why ARE you calling me a cadet, anyway?” Nick asked the wolf as he drew on the soil.

The agent flashed his titanium fangs at Nick and answered glibly, “If you think I’m not poaching you from Shinigami, you have another thing coming. I’d like a fox to watch my back for once”.

Agent Matthias only sighed as the antelope knew he’d be bringing out a ruler later.

=====================================================================================

1315 Hours

Cliffside Mental Asylum

Rainforest District

Officer Judy Hopps

“You remember the plan, Hopps?” Agent von Kaggerak asked the rabbit who was stripped of everything that would make any sort of noise. That included her police radio, pawcuffs, and watch. He also removed her notepad and novelty pen. He left the FBI radio as it would be the HRTs locator for her.

“Go in at high speed. Use the rainstorm for cover, avoid the lamps and find an opening to exploit” Judy enumerated the items she had to do for entry.

KKKRRAAAAKKKK!

A sharp crack made everyone’s fur stand on end as the rain suddenly poured down. A few seconds later, the dull boom of thunder deafened the world for a few milliseconds.  

Agent von Kaggerak, Officer Hopps, and Nick Wilde were hidden behind a grassy boulder as they observed the first two wolves retreat into the guard shack as the rain was pissing it down.

“You get one shot at this. Go! NOW!” the wolf practically threw the fox and rabbit duo forward. As both mammals landed on their feet, they raced past the guard shack where the wolves had now hunkered down to await the end of the storm.

Keeping to form, Judy raced through the falling sheets of water and avoided the lamps on the side of the bridgeway. As she ran, she turned her head to look at Nick as he dashed from the concrete base of each lamp post in a diagonal order. Keeping her mouth shut as she did not know if the wolves could hear her voice through the storm (Spoiler: They couldn’t), Judy kept powering on forward.

Sliding on the slick surface, she managed to pop up beside the limousine’s driver side door. Calming her rapidly beating heart, she caught Nick suddenly duck behind a concrete pillar as a wolf stepped out of the white panel van.

Judy could see the wolf shake out a cigarette and place the tip into his muzzle, closing the door of the van in the process. She snuck a quick look around the hood of the limousine and saw that there were five more wolves in the lobby.

“Cripes” Judy cursed softly and she nearly jumped when Nick popped up beside her.

Nick soon joined her at the limousine, after dashing from behind the back of another wolf to the relative safety of the limousine. Unlike the rabbit, he noticed that the little flagpoles at the front of the old Cadillac had the seal of the city on them. 

“Carrots, I think we need to find another way in” Nick informed her as she kept thinking of a way to sneak in past the wolves.

“Gimme a sec, Nick” Judy whispered as she tried feeling her pants for her phone, before realising (as Nick pulled her away), that it was with the FBI agent.

She had already forgotten about the bodycamera.

Judy saw the open boot of the limousine and gestured at Nick, “How bout we go in?”.

“Carrots, I’d like to point out the holes in your plan. But, we gotta go. Inside first, remember?” Nick hissed back at her.

As Judy fought not to berate the fox, said fox slapped a paw on her mouth and carried her around the building to a waterspout.

=====================================================================================

Agent von Kaggerak was watching the progress of the two from the safety of the ridge. He had used the storm for cover and merely shook his fur free of water when he reached the relative cover of the tree.

“Hopps, don’t break from the plan. Don’t go into the limo” the wolf commented for the bodycam video feed as he watched the rabbit contemplate leaping into the unlocked boot of the limousine through the ACOG scope from earlier.

He was gratified to see that Wilde saw the holes in the rabbit officer’s gung-ho plan and instead pointed out a waterspout on the side of the building. The waterspout was also in a blind spot for both guards and cameras.  

He watched as first Officer Hopps, and then Wilde, climbed the slick rocks before entering the drain.

“Hopps and Wilde have entered the target building. Now we have to sit and wait till she gets back out as we are unsure if she still has radio coverage” the wolf mentioned to the glass lens of the camera.

“Sir? What if she doesn’t come back out?” Special Agent Ethan Dusk asked of his superior.

“Hopps has at maximum fifteen minutes. This storm won’t last forever” Agent von Kaggerak answered as the rain continued to pour from the sky. “We go in after her when fifteen minutes are up. Non-lethals only. We may need the guards down there for questioning.”

=====================================================================================

Inside the storm drain, Hopps was practically blind.

A soft click from behind her and a cone of light lit her way. She almost facepalmed as she remembered that the gear she was wearing was tailor made for a hostage rescue team member and it came with equipment.

“Let me go first” Nick said as he used his augmented night vision to look for any vents he could open. They passed two vents as both would have dropped them at the paws of the wolf guards. Judy wanted to go through the first one and it was only the solid tap of claws on the mammalhole cover that stopped her from pushing through with it.

On the third, the darkness above the cover had Nick first unscrew it and pop up for a quick check. He did not need the light to see after all.

“All clear” he whispered back down to Judy as he squeezed himself through and helped Officer Hopps up.

“Looks like a hospital” Judy commented on the stacked-up beds and wheelchairs on one side of their entry point as she brought the light around the room. Her beam stopped at a seemingly solid door that looked new.

As she continued to point the torch at the door, she and Nick looked at each other. “Do we call Agent von Kaggerak?” she asked Nick.

“We can try but keep the volume down. Wolves have good hearing and can track us with loud noises” Nick answered, fear gripping him as he felt cold air creep out under the closed door.

“Okay. I’m sending it. Wolf One, this is Hopps. Come in Wolf One” Judy spoke quietly into the helmet rig of her loaned equipment.

She saw Nick move slowly to the door, paw gripping a taser on his hip.

=====================================================================================

“Looks like Hopps is about to run out of time sir” Agent Dusk observed as the rain petered off into a light drizzle.

“Could have sworn this storm would last longer than that” Agent von Kaggerak muttered as he began the process of exchanging the lethal rounds in his rifle with a singular magazine filled with rubber bullets.

“Mammals, check your gear. We move out in five. If Hopps is still radio silent by that time, we are going in” the wolf agent announced to the gathered agents.

So, it was with some apprehension that the team listened to the radio call from the rabbit.

“Wolf One, this is Hopps. Come in Wolf One” everyone could hear the rabbit call out over the secure channel. There was a little static in the line, but she could be heard.

“Keep her talking. We need to figure out if the mammals are here, after all” Agent von Kaggerak informed Agent Matthias as the wolf and the HRT mounted the vehicles.

“Hopps, this is Agent Matthias. Have you found the missing mammals?” the antelope spoke into the radio as he watched the HRT check gear for a rapid insertion.

“Approaching a steel door now, Wilde is opening the latch” Hopps answered.

=====================================================================================

“Hopps, this is Agent Matthias. Have you found the missing mammals?” Judy heard the antelope agent’s mellow voice come through and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Approaching a steel door now, Wilde is opening the latch” Judy instead answered as she drew her air-powered tranquiliser pistol.

“Okay Carrots, here we go” as Nick opened the door and exposed blue and red glows. “Let me go first” the fox added as he went ahead, his red tail the only indicator that he even moved.

“All clear” Nick whispered back as he stuck his head back out.

“We appear to have found some sort of medical room. I wish I had my phone to record all this” Judy informed the antelope as she entered the room full of machines and scans, who chuckled back.

“Hopps, you have a bodycam on your vest. So does the cadet. We can review the footage later. But you must hurry. Agent von Kaggerak is about to assault the front gate” Agent Matthias informed her and urged her to get moving.

 “Carrrooottttssss” Judy heard Nick hiss as he pointed at his feet.

Judy flicked on her borrowed torch and saw the scratches in the floor. The scratches led to a locked Perspex door with a keypad and holes. As the rabbit approached, she heard Nick whisper “What kind of mammal did this?”.

Keeping a firm grip on her tranquiliser pistol, Judy approached the plastic door.

Only to bite her tongue before she screamed when a tiger lunged at her, momentum only stopped by the tough plastic. The tiger, frustrated at being unable to reach its prey, took out its anger on the door. Growling and yowling, the tiger paced in front of Perspex door on all fours. Its eyes reflecting the light from her torch as an evil, amber glow.

The tiger was also naked, and Judy could see the plump sheath of a male as he paced.

In the corner of her eyes, she saw Nick dramatically clutch at his chest before firing one tranquiliser dart at the tiger.

The tiger snarled out before collapsing as the drugs did their work. As Judy continued to shine the light on the peacefully sleeping tiger, she heard a cough behind her.

Turning quickly, she pointed her tranquiliser at a startled Nick who raised his paws in surrender. Not that the dart would be able to penetrate the bullet-resistant vest.

Cursing herself for losing situational awareness, Judy disguised it with a “Chief Bogo handed out fourteen missing mammal folders. There all here”.

“Officer Hopps, try to remember that we use induction microphones. We caught everything you were saying. Pressing a transmit button only slows down our reactions” Agent Matthias informed her as she blanched.

Judy merely kept silent as Nick led the way, his night vision piercing the semi-gloom. They stopped in front of a cell where a pair of broken glasses lay on the floor.

“Mister Otterton? Your wife is worried, and she wants to see you back home soon” Judy addressed a half-naked otter as he stuck his brown head out from under a hospital bed.

Judy’s hopes soared as Mister Otterton approached the plastic wall, sniffing the air. Her hopes crashed and burned, when Mister Otterton hissed at her and went back to hiding under the bed. His orange pupils reflecting the light.  

“Yeesh” Nick commented. “Looks like he’s not in a hurry to return to the missus”.

The soft click of claws on cement brought the attention of the pair to a sealed door at the other end of the corridor. A large shadow could be seen on through the glass. This was soon followed by the rapid tapping of keys for access.

As the pneumatic door slid open, Judy saw Mayor Lionheart enter as he argued with a badger in scrubs.

Judy had frozen in place, her torch switched off. It was only Nick pulling her into an empty cell that saved the two of them from exposure.

“Agent Matthias” Nick began talking to the agent. “I think you have to breach the perimeter. Hopps and I are trapped”.

“Who has you cornered? The wolves?” Agent Matthias asked with concern.

“Worse. Mayor Lionheart is here” Nick replied as he listened to the argument the lion was having with the badger. Paws clamped firmly on Officer Hopps’ mouth to keep her from speaking.

=====================================================================================

“Agent Matthias” Nick’s voice came out of the radio for the first time. “I think you have to breach the perimeter. Hopps and I are trapped”.

“Who has you cornered? The wolves?” Agent Matthias asked with concern as he signalled the HRT to advance down the hill towards the asylum. The SUVs started their engines, reversed out of their parking spaces and roared down the hill with sirens wailing.

“Worse. Mayor Lionheart is here” Nick replied.

=====================================================================================

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN BIOLOGY!” Mayor Lionheart yelled at the badger clutching the clipboard, unaware that the entire conversation was being recorded.

“Mayor Lionheart, please. The only ones going savage are predators! We have to go public!” the badger begged.

“Hmm, great idea. Tell the public” Mayor Lionheart seemed to think about it, a paw beneath his chin. Before shouting back and waving his paws around for emphasis, “And what will the public think when their mayor is a LION! I’LL BE RUINED”.

“Sir, what does Chief Bogo say?” the badger asked, worried.

“Chief Bogo does not know. And we are going to keep it that way” Mayor Lionheart insisted as he poked the badger with a meaty finger.

In another universe, a phone would ring and that would be the end of the conversation.

In this one the mayor kept talking.

“But sir! We could be guilty of unlawful imprisonment!” the badger pleaded.

“I don’t care! We are not letting out savage predators unless we can tell the public why they are acting this way!” Mayor Lionheart insisted.

It was at this point that Nick Wilde stepped out from the empty cell and shouted the line that would cement the start of his career in law enforcement.

“FBI! ON THE GROUND NOW!”

=====================================================================================

Judy could not believe her eyes and ears!

The mayor who had assigned her to Precinct One was behind the savage predators! She must go out there and confront him!

That was her primary thought until she saw Nick look down at her disapprovingly, seemingly having read her mind.

“Carrots, listen to the conversation. Don’t jump feetfirst like a lot of prey do!” Nick lightly reprimanded her, and she felt ashamed.

Judy did and found out that the mayor was just as stumped as she was. She could see it from his point of view.

“Carrots” Nick suddenly knelt in front of her, ignoring the camera, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes?” Judy answered with uncertainty.

“Good. Because I’m going over there to hustle them. Stay here and keep Agent Matthias informed. Can you do that sweetheart?” Nick informed her as he gave a chaste kiss to her forehead.

Judy nodded in the semi-darkness of the cell. It was a good thing that Nick had left, her ears started to redden.

Nick immediately straightened his shoulders and pulled out the taser from the hip holster. Before exiting the cell, he winked back at her and drew in a large breath.

“FBI! ON THE GROUND NOW!” Nick shouted down the corridor, as he brought up the torch and blinded both predators.

“It’s not what it looks like agent!” Lionheart shouted before he ate 50,000 volts from the taser and dropped writhing onto the floor.

“I’m down! I’m down!” the badger said as she lay on the floor. Nick secured her first with zipties, cinching it just enough to hold her.  

“Matthias” Nick hoped that the agent would forgive him for skipping the title “I have two in custody in the lower levels. How copy?”

“Excellent work, Agent Wilde. We’re stacked up and ready to breach” the tone of the wolf made Nick smile despite himself.

“Access code for the door is: Five Nine Six Two” the badger groaned out, not wanting the new security systems destroyed.

Nick duly repeated the code for the rest of the agents on the local channel.

“Stay down, Lionheart. You don’t want another shot of volts into your ticker” ‘Agent’ Wilde warned the lion as he attempted to rise, ejecting the spent clip and placing a new one.

The door slid open, and the rest of the FBI HRT flooded the room.

“Mister Mayor, I’d stay still if I were you. Don’t give the rookie any excuses to tase you again” Special Agent August von Kaggerak informed the lion as he simply sagged on the floor.

“Good work, Wilde. I’ll let the director know how you fared on your first mission” the wolf informed the proud fox.

“Miss Hopps, you can come out now” the wolf agent beckoned Officer Judy Hopps to come out from the empty cell.

Somehow, the mayor thought he could plead his case before the rabbit.

He was immediately shot down when the rabbit would not even look at him.

Chapter Text

“Sir, I have good news from Cliffside” Special Agent Ayesha informed the three head honchos as they watched the bunker implode on itself.

“Let’s hear it” I motioned for the coyote to continue as I watched the spectacular fireworks display on the monitors.

“Officer Hopps, in conjunction with Special Agent von Kaggerak, and FBI Academy cadet Nicholas Wilde have managed to locate and secure fourteen missing mammals” she began to inform us before Chief Bogo clapped his hooves.

I let the congratulations and joy continue for five minutes as I smiled genuinely that the rabbit had done it.

“And the bad news?” I prodded the coyote whose demeanour took a nosedive.

“They appear to have been poisoned. All fourteen have gone savage” the agent continued to talk, this time in a neutral tone.

“Anymore bad news?” I gently prodded the coyote.

“Mayor Lionheart was found at the scene” she replied softly.

“That is bad news. Who is next in the line of succession?” I asked.

“Assistant Mayor Dawn Bellwether” she replied.

=====================================================================================

1305 Hours

Filing Cabinet C Assistant Mayor’s Office

City Hall

Special Agent Bellwether

“You know this is not helping your case, cousin?” the ram was talking to Assistant Mayor Dawn Bellwether as he waved the number for hitmammal Doug Ramses in front of the bound ewe.

The ewe glared hatefully up at her cousin as she struggled to free herself from the bindings. Her lunch was cooling on her table. It was such a delicious lunch too.

“I don’t know where this irrational hatred of predators came from. You were there at my wedding to a wolfess” the ram continued, exposing a wedding band tucked around his neck.

“What I do know is that your actions have brought the eye of Shinigami on the city-state. Know that once he finds out you masterminded the missing mammals, you will disappear yourself” the ram continued to pace in the cramped office. He did not care that his cousin was now shivering at the name of the foremost executioner of mammals.

Nor did he care that his cousin was close to losing control of her bladder.

“Before I give you up to Shinigami’s tender care, are there others like you? I spend a lot of time around wolves, they can tell when someone is lying. Lie to me and your luckiest fate would be to throw yourself off City Hall’s roof in an apparent suicide. Tell me the truth and I can arrange clemency” the ram knelt in front of the ewe as he brought out a blade to his cousin’s gagged mouth.

=====================================================================================

One hour earlier…

“Good afternoon, FBI Special Agent Bellwether to see his cousin Dawn” the ram presented his badge to the lioness receptionist at the front desk. In his left hoof was some veggie stir-fry that he knew his cousin once liked.

The wolf deliverymammal from earlier, Liam Wolford, was still present and the ram had hired him to purchase two orders of veggie stir-fry and a lunch for himself.

Out of the two dozen deliverymammals gathered at the watering hole, the ram personally chose the wolf. If his boss liked the wolf enough to hand him $2500 in tips, then he was good enough for every agent in the city. Agent Bellwether would later find out that having every federal employee call on the wolf for delivery made the wolf practically untouchable by the local criminal elements. His boss would just smirk, as if Agent Bellwether brought it upon himself, and an armed escort would be present when the wolf needed to visit the bank to deposit his tips.

But, that is a tale for another day.

“Good afternoon, Special Agent. Miss Bellwether can be found on the top floor in her office. Take the elevator behind me to the fifth floor and turn left. She’ll be the third door on the right” the lioness answered neutrally, as if she were just a chatbot.

“Thank you, miss?” the ram tried to get the name of the lioness before she placed an ‘Out to Lunch’ sign and left with her snout in the air.

“Someone’s pricklier than a porcupine during mating season” the ram muttered as the lioness left her desk.

“Excuse me sir. Are you the federal agent who asked for a meeting with Madam Bellwether?” another caprid, this one a hornless ram dressed in a formal suit, asked him.

“Is she that old that you call her madam?” Special Agent Bellwether snorted as he followed the other to a bank of lifts. “Or does she run a brothel on the side that you frequent?”

“I do not know what you are talking about” the other ram lied to through his teeth. Agent Bellwether merely raised an eyebrow at the ram’s outright obfuscation. He would ask his boss if he could be the one to grab his cousin if she was guilty.

Pressing a button to summon the lift, the other ram stayed silent the entire time. As if he could unnerve a federal agent who worked with Shinigami, of all mammals.

Two could play at that game, Agent Bellwether surmised and kept a blank stare at the lift doors.

The security agent cracked first, unsurprisingly.

“How do you know Madam Bellwether?” the other asked.

Agent Bellwether continued to stare at the lift doors, uncaring if he came off as rude. If the security agent pushed any more, Agent Bellwether would effectively growl like an angry wolf did.

The lift dinged and the doors opened to allow mammals to exit. One of those exiting was Mayor Leodore Lionheart, loudly yakking on his phone about new projects and that the voters would love it.  He bumped into the sheep, glared at the ram in tactical gear, and continued yakking to whomever was on the other side.

“Interesting” Agent Bellwether remarked as he got on the lift and pressed the button for the fifth floor.

“What’s interesting?” the other ram asked, pushing a button for the fourth floor.

“Classified” the federal ram answered as he continued his blank staring contest with the lift doors.

“Not even for a fellow sheep?” the other asked as he came closer. “I can keep a secret”.

That snapped something in Agent Bellwether as he casually placed the takeaways on the floor, hit the stop button, and charged the other ram who barely had time to scream before the agent was upon him. Pummelling him with punches and kicks, the over-glorified rent-a-cop stood no chance.

After working off some steam on his fellow ram, Agent Bellwether undid the emergency stop and the lift continued normal operations.  

When the lift doors opened on the fourth floor, Agent Bellwether simply pressed the button to close the doors and the lift ascended.

On the fifth floor, Agent Bellwether got out and pressed the button for the lobby. He had checked the lift and there were no cameras inside. He had also removed the mobile phone and wallet of the security officer. Placing these in one of his many pockets on the assault vest, he continued towards his cousin’s office.

Knocking on a heavy, steel door that he assumed used to be a storage closet, Agent Bellwether was just happy everyone had left for lunch and did not see an obviously armed ram enter the office of the Assistant Mayor.

“I’m coming. I’m coming” came the meek voice of his cousin through the door. “Listen, its lunch and I don’t think that Mayor Lionheart…” his cousin’s voice stopped as she saw him standing in the doorway.

“Are you not going to invite me in, Dawn?” Agent Bellwether asked.

“Hello Howard” the ewe groused at the ram opposite her, all of her saccharine sweetness gone.

“Is that any way to greet someone who brought you your favourite veggie stir-fry?” Agent Bellwether teased his cousin, though his smile did not reach his eyes, as he held the plastic bag with the fragrant aroma wafting through.

“Fine, come in. There better be extra sauce on mine” the ewe glowered as she allowed her cousin entry.

Looking back, she would have preferred to slam the door in his face. Alas, her choice was already taken away from her.

=====================================================================================

1405 Hours

Cliffside Mental Asylum

Officer Judy Hopps

The area around the entrance to the building and the parking lot were filled with federal agents. From ATF to FBI, almost everyone with a federal badge and weapon were present to witness the transfer of sedated savage predators into ambulances for transport to federal holdings at the Docks.

There were some ZPD officers from Rainforest like Sergeant Ryan McHorn and his partner, Patrol Officer Jerry Buckheimer, Patrol Officer Raymundo Chavez (jaguar) and his partner Patrol Officer Ana Marie Debroglio (white-tailed deer), as well as Detective Blacksand (panther) from Major Crimes. From Precinct One, Chief Bogo had brought along Patrol Officers Peter Wilkins, Susan Flite, Amanda Lupin, and Lieutenant Daniel Fangmeyer (Jean’s brother) of the afternoon shift to make the arrest.

Judy Hopps was surrounded by her fellow officers from the morning and afternoon shifts.

“Looks like you got your first arrest, rookie!” Senior Patrol Officer Peter Wilkins (panthion) raised his fist to the rabbit’s own for a fistbump.  

“I can count on one paw where a rookie got to play with the Feds. Lieutenant Dan Fangmeyer” the tiger with lieutenant’s bars introduced himself to the rabbit who gamely shook his paw. “Whatever my sister says about me is not true” he nodded at Hopps with a grin.

“Wish I got the FBI Deputy Director to back me up on a case” Sergeant Susan Flite (roe deer doe) mock griped, though the smile was genuine.

A new voice interrupted the huddle “Officer Hopps, care to give a statement?”.

Everyone then made space for the Chief of Police, Adrian Bogo, as the cape buffalo knelt beside the bunny. Behind him, the officers saw the FBI Deputy Director with a smirk on his muzzle as the snow leopard leaned against a police cruiser with his arms crossed. Ostensibly to watch the transfer of the poisoned predators into secure vehicles for transport.

“Of course, chief!” Judy slipped back into officer mode and went to stand near the cape buffalo as he took notes.

The other officers, knowing that crowding around a witness was counterproductive, made their way over to the snow leopard.

“Deputy Director del Morte, pleasure to make your acquaintance” Lieutenant Fangmeyer extended his paw in greeting a fellow cat.

“Pleasure’s all mine” the snow leopard replied and grasped the open paw. The tiger felt like his paw was getting crushed by a bear and released after the third shake.

“Damn, that’s a mighty fine grip you got there sir” Lieutenant Fangmeyer remarked as he gave his paw a shake at the wrist.

“I have practice on my farm down in Virginia, wringing ducks’ necks” the snow leopard replied as he smiled impishly.

“Forgive this impertinent question sir, but aren’t executive level bosses usually found in an office?” Sergeant Flite asked.

“Office work is boring. I rarely go out into the field and the rewards of actions taking minutes is worth the nine months of hell when I go back to signing triplicate federal forms asking permission for a form that can be submitted online” Deputy Director del Morte replied.

“Ain’t that the truth” Officer Lupin answered morosely, as she had once gotten inundated with paper only to find out that for the actual request, she only needed ten minutes online.

“You see my dad often, Deputy Director?” Senior Patrol Officer Wilkins asked with a slight canine tilt to his head. 

“I came from your dad’s this morning at Beaverbrook AFB. I had something I wanted to discuss” the deputy director answered evasively.

“Can you tell me why he has to sleep on the couch? Apparently, Ma got mad at him or something and they’re not talking” Peter pressed, and the snow leopard grinned toothily.

“Well you see Peter, when I showed up to talk with your dad, I was curious if he still wanted his apartment here” the deputy director began his tale.

“Lemme stop you there, sir. My Ma said no and they argued. Now, Da has to stay on the couch?” Peter interrupted.

“Heaven’s no. Your Ma agreed to let the lease go. It’s been twelve years after all. Rent-free, I might add” the snow leopard looked affronted as he replied before his expression became neutral once more.

“So, why does Ma want Da to spend two weeks on the couch?” Peter pressed, confused. The other officers had begun taking bets that it was a blow-up of some kind behind the panthion’s back. (A/N: For professionals, they sure act like my high-school classmates.)

“Because your dad left the door to the private living quarters open, and your mom found a bone-tired Officer Hopps and Cadet Wilde snoozing on her couch” the snow leopard said to the loud groans of the other officers.

“Wait, why was Officer Hopps with you at Beaverbrook?” one of the officers asked.

“Classified” the snow leopard smirked to more groans from the other officers.

“Ha! Pay up losers” Lieutenant Fangmeyer smiled as he collected the bets on the reason Hopps had appeared at the airbase.

There were cries of “No fair!” and “Classified?!”.

“All’s fair in love, war, and betting with the Fang” the tiger lieutenant chuckled at his own joke as he pointed his thumbs at himself.

At this point, Detective Blacksand approached and yanked the paper bills out from the tiger’s paw. “Tut, tut, lieutenant. Give the mammals back their Snarlbucks money” as the panther pocketed the bills to the consternation of the other officers.

“What I want to know is what apartment did your dad have that he got it for twelve years rent-free?” Lieutenant Fangmeyer asked Peter Wilkins.

“The apartment building that is three blocks away from Precinct One and has a helipad on the roof. It’s owned by the FBI deputy director. We stayed there while Da was a captain and moved out when he got promoted. I miss the jacuzzi” Peter replied in a blasé manner, as if the conversation was about the weather.  

“Mammals, know that the apartment in question has already been leased out. I know for a fact that Transit Officers Roald and Torvald will be moving in next week” the snow leopard wanted to shut down the line of thinking.

“Wait, Bjørn and Torvald? How were they able to afford it? That area’s rent is $450k a month!” Patrol Officer Chavez had wandered over to our discussion.

“I. Own. The. Building” the snow leopard commented in a dry voice, adding. “My estate bid on properties that were defaulted on by the realtor, and it is mine”.

“Oh…still taking applicants?” Officer Chavez asked as he had heard of an apartment in Rainforest that would not cost an arm and a leg.

“Savannah Central? No. I apparently have a waiting list that is longer than Chief Bogo is tall. Tundra, Sahara, and Rainforest are open for occupancy, though. There are plans to open five in Happytown for the less fortunate” the snow leopard replied as he buffed his claws against his suit in a move that made every predator wince when one of the claws caught on the fine material.

“Oh, one more thing. If you want a spot in any those buildings, better not be involved in anything shady. My tenants are federal agents” the snow leopard continued as he walked over to Detective Blacksand and removed the money from the panther’s left pocket.

“I will consider this” holding out the bills to the panther, “as your downpayment for your flat in Rainforest. Unit 314, right detective?”

Before the detective could answer, one of the savage mammals broke loose from the bindings.

Huffing and puffing, the polar bear roared out a challenge as it then charged at the nearest mammal it could see with its back turned.

Officers moved for their tranquilisers and tasers. The HRT chased after the bear, firing dart after dart into the polar bear’s flank.

Unfortunately, all it did was slow the bear down.

The polar bear’s prey, the snow leopard in a suit, soon turned and yowled back his own challenge. The prey then flung the shiny leaves it was holding into the bear’s eyes. The bear raised a paw to swipe at the snow leopard and gave a confused roar when the smaller predator was no longer there. Instead, the bear simply sat back and coughed as a series of swift strikes to the solar plexus robbed him of breath.

Whimpering now at facing a superior predator, the polar bear tried to retreat but was stopped by more strikes. It simply collapsed onto the ground, curling into a ball, whimpering as it covered its eyes with its paws, so as not to appear threatening.

“Had enough?” the snow leopard growled at it.

The feral whines and whimpers coming from the bested bear punctuated the air as everyone froze. HRT kept moving, dumping more tranquilisers into the bear before finally the bear went to sleep.

=====================================================================================

1415 Hours

Cliffside Mental Asylum

FBI Deputy Director Ivan del Morte

I was having a rather lively conversation with the officers about apartments and other inconsequential things when one of the savage predators was either not sedated enough or was resistant to the drug cocktail used in tranquilisers. The first I noticed was when the polar bear roared out a challenge and the mammals began to panic.

Making a half-turn, I saw the bear charge towards me. Still holding the paper bills I had taken from Detective Blacksand, I waited for the polar bear to get closer before I flung it into his face as a distraction. Ducking under his paw swipe, I then launched a series of quick strikes into the polar bear’s solar plexus. When the polar bear sat on his haunches and tried to rear up to appear more threatening, I continued striking him in the pressure points: armpit, solar plexus, groin...

I was able to breathe easier when the white bear curled into a ball and began to whimper, covering its eyes with its paws. I then yowled my loudest at the downed bear, making sure he knew who was boss. The increased whines and whimpers were a balm to my soul. I panted with so much effort expended in such little time as I felt my muscles burn with lactic acid.

Agent Dusk appeared at my left, Wilde at my right, as if to support me as I felt a little lightheaded. It was then that I glanced down and there was a little red stain on my white shirt.  

“Oh, not that unscathed. Must be getting old” I muttered as the two canids set me down gently on the wet road. Wilde removing a first aid kit from his person and opening it, as Agent Dusk cut away my white shirt with trauma shears.

“Sir, we have to get you to a hospital. These claw marks look a little deep” Agent Dusk whispered into my left ear as my white chest fur was stained red.

“I’ll be fine, Ethan. Nothing I have not experienced before” I assured him as I felt my body demand sleep after being awake for 32 hours.

The wolf tried slapping me to keep me conscious as my eyelids closed, to no avail.

As my hearing slowly faded, I could hear someone yell out, “MEDEVAC TO NIMITZ!” “Stay with us sir! Stay……with……..…usssss………….”.

=====================================================================================

I opened my eyes to absolute darkness, save for twinkling stars above me.

“This is a first” a voice proclaimed somewhere on my left as I did not want to stand up, preferring the soft ground beneath me.

“How so, Señor Muerto?” I asked, holding no illusions who was in here with me. [Mister Death]

The figure of Death snapped his fingers, and the world got a little brighter. The stars were still visible, but now hanging between the time of dawn and night.

A dire white wolf in an expensive suit, not unlike what I usually wore, sat cross-legged beside me. His red eyes, black pupils, black skull marking on his white face fur, and the two holsters on his hip showed he meant business.

The wolf whistled a haunting tune of nine notes and smiled down at me with all his teeth.

I smiled back with a toothy grin of my own. “Am I dead yet?” I asked the universal constant.

“Most cats run from me, but not you” the wolf continued, a primal growl underlying his speech. “Why do you run headlong to see me?”

“I have noticed that you don’t want to claim me. Why is that?” I asked him as my tail lay flat on the ground. I slowly sat up and noticed that I was without pain, my wound had vanished. “I should have been dead nine times over when I was sent out on missions. I especially knew I should not have survived that plane crash in the Schwarzwald, impaled on a tree branch” I added.

“Why indeed?” the wolf responded with a soft growl.

When the wolf did not say more, I let the topic drop. Some things are not meant for mortal minds after all.

“How long am I to stay here, Señor Muerto?” I asked instead as I looked up at the sky that neither darkened nor brightened.

“Stay as long as you like, Ivan Snobear. When you wake up, your wounds are healed” Death stood up from his cross-legged stance and stretched.

“Wait!” I stood up and grasped the wolf’s arm before he left. Once he turned his head to look at me with that canine tilt, I asked one last question. “Am I doing the right thing?”

“I will answer your first question on why I don’t claim you and a smart mammal such as yourself will figure out the answer to the second. How do I claim a part of myself when I gave that part willingly to you all those years ago?” the figure of Death answered my question with one of his own.

“I do not understand” I answered as I cocked my head to the side, in mimicry of the wolf. The wolf simply patted my head between my round ears and chuckled softly.

“In time you will. Now. WAKE UP.” The wolf answered as he continued to rub the fur between my ears, making me purr.

As he said the last phrase, my world brightened.

=====================================================================================

0605 Hours

April 16, 2016

Medical Bay,

USS Nimitz

FBI Deputy Director Ivan del Morte (Shinigami)

I woke to a bright light being shone into my pupils. I absently raised my paws and batted it away to the immense shock of the fox medical officer, who dropped the penlight on the floor. The clattering of the metal instrument had armed marines show up.

As they gazed upon me in shock (I did not know I had flatlined twice on the ride over), I simply smiled fanglessly at them.

“Any updates?” I asked calmly, feeling at peace for the first time in a long time. I had slept well and with no nightmares. The dream I had rapidly fading into my subconscious.

“I’ll…uh…ring the captain” the fox medical officer stammered out before rapidly exiting the privacy screen, taking one of the marines with him.

“And here I thought you would have wanted to stay longer?” the wolf marine with red eyes, and skull mark, commented as I lay in bed.

“Señor Muerto, you sent me back to the world of the living” I answered, momentary clarity filling me as I somehow knew that Death had taken temporary control of the wolf marine.

“True. Is this what being a father feels like?” the wolf asked as he grinned at me.

I felt no fear as I grinned back at the personification of Death.  

“Perhaps? I am not a father myself” I replied, suddenly unsure how I would continue this conversation. How long can Death stay in a mortal body?

“This body is. But, I will converse with you another way. His soul is fading the longer I stay. Ciao!” the wolf spoke as the marine collapsed bonelessly onto the floor. 

“CORPSMAM!” I cried out and summoned a petty officer rabbit who took one look at the marine and began chest compressions.

“Come on Rocky, breathe!” the rabbit cried out as he continued chest compressions on the wolf. Belatedly, I realised that the wolf’s chest was not moving.

I blinked and with us, floating above his body, was the wolf marine’s soul.

While not a pure white, there were obvious splotches of darkness, the soul looked like it wanted to return but could not. It looked directly at me, and I nodded gravely. I looked at the rabbit and saw the guilt of losing another mammal staining his soul. Beyond the steel walls of the medical bay, I saw more bright lights and knew these were mammal’s souls. Extending outward, I could see many bright lights as well as the beacons that shone in the distance.  

Focus.

“What do I do?” I whispered as I came back to myself, the efforts of the rabbit getting more and more frantic.

A voice floated into my ears, barely a whisper on a light breeze. Simply will it and his soul will return. It is not his time. Not yet.

Trusting the voice, I concentrated on the wolf’s soul and gently returned it back into the body. I knew I was successful when the wolf took a shaky breath and opened his amber eyes.

Well done. The voice sounded proud.

“Rocky? Good God, mam. You scared me!” the rabbit hugged the wolf around his scruffy neck.

The wolf patted the rabbit on the back, asking him “What happened? I was guarding the entrance to sick bay, came to stand by the bed, and now I’m on the floor with you crying over me?”.

I looked down at the wolf and our eyes met. For a moment, he saw who hid behind the shell and shivered.

“Rocky, are you sick? You’re shivering!” the rabbit continued as he felt the tremor.

“Corpsmam, maybe a hot cup of tea and soup will be best for Rocky?” I loudly informed the rabbit, who looked up at me as if seeing a mammal on the bed for the first time. “My nan used to give me the same thing when I had the chills”.

“Of course Deputy Director. I’ll have the galley serve some up here. Rocky, get in the bed. Light duty until the doctor clears you” the rabbit replied courteously, before turning to the wolf and ordering him into the medium-mammal bed beside me.  

“Do I have to, doc? I feel fine!” the wolf, Rocky, protested. As the rabbit shot him a glare, the wolf relented and clambered on into the bed beside me.

“Stay put! Both of you!” the rabbit admonished as he hopped to fetch the doctor.

“I’d do as he says. Doctors like to torment their patients even though we feel fine” I joked with the wolf marine, who laughed uproariously.

“Ain’t that the truth, sir? One time, I got a little nick from a knife this small, and I was confined for three days” the wolf joked back, holding his paws apart to show how small the knife was.    

“Three days is better than three weeks when my chute failed to open during a HALO qual jump. I thought I was dead until my reserve deployed. Too close to the ground for a controlled descent, but I survived. Those straps sure do chafe something fierce” I snarked back as I rubbed the areas where the straps bit into my chest.

“Then I walk back to the drop zone and five medics sit on me when I explain why I was five miles downwind of them” I continued as the wolf guffawed. “One medic per mile”.

“You got me beat sir! Corporal Richard ‘Rocky’ Cloverfield” the wolf extended his right paw towards my bed.

I took it in my left, and we shook paws.

“FBI Deputy Director Ivan del Morte” I introduced myself to my bedmate, who only shook his head.

“Damn, so you’re the VIM who got in yesterday!” the wolf chuckled.

The tension that was building up in sick bay vanished as we laughed together.

Everyone else shivered.

=====================================================================================

0530 Hours

April 16, 2016

Smallest Bedroom,

Penthouse Apartment,

West Savannah Central Park Place Apartments,

Officer Judy Hopps

Judy woke to the sound of her digital clock’s alarm at 0530.

Springing up from the plush bed, she tapped the off button for the alarm and dashed out to snag a quick shower in the communal bathroom on her floor before her morning commute to Precinct One. She hoped to catch the J line to at least Acacia Boulevard before it filled up with elephants on their daily commute.

That was the initial plan when she opened her door, and the sounds of breakfast cooking broke her out off her fugue.

Cocking her head confusedly at who could be cooking breakfast in her shoebox apartment, the events of yesterday slowly came back to her and she facepalmed.

Right, she had been given a new apartment and had roommates.

Steadily, she made her way towards the kitchen and was unsurprised to see ZPD Transit Officer Sergeant Torvald Tordenscold (?) behind the stovetop in just his boxers and an apron. The tiger was frying some eggs and sausages for him and his partner. The bear, Officer Roald Born (?), was at the counter mixing some sort of batter as evidenced by the flour, eggs, milk, and sugar all laid out. 

The tiger and his partner had moved in last night, bringing along their meagre possessions to drop into their rooms. With only three suitcases each, the large mammals had claimed the two other rooms in the suite.

Nick, as she could no longer call the fox Mister Wilde with what happened at Cliffside, was probably still snoozing up in the loft as the fox did not seem the type to wake early.

Apparently, both mammals sensed her coming in.

The tiger spoke first with his back still turned, watching the fried foods. “Good morning, Officer Hopps. Hope you don’t mind that Roald and I got a headstart with breakfast? We have a long commute ahead of us from Shady Pines”.

The grizzly chuckled as well. “I already set the coffee maker if the FBI cadet wants some. He looked like he could use it to make it through the day”.

“You guys remember we are in Savannah Central? I forgot too it seems” Judy informed them bashfully as her ears fell behind her, still clutching her towel.

The pop of cooking oil and the ding of the pre-heating oven were the only sounds that came from the silent kitchen. That was until both predators groaned out.

“Oh lamb, I forgot we don’t have to wake up at 0430 just to get ready” Bjørn smacked his head onto the countertop, rattling the bowl.   

“This will take some getting used to” Sergeant Torvald muttered as he remembered the only other officer was female. Usually both officers would sashay around their old apartment practically buff naked.

“Don’t worry about the casual nudity, sergeant” Judy attempted to placate the tiger. After witnessing the train wreck that was Mystic Springs, she was no longer bothered by mammals in underwear.

“If you say so, Hopps” the tiger shrugged as he continued to cook breakfast. “Want anything? I guess the apartment came fully stocked when we got in last night”.

“I’d take some fried tomatoes and eggplants if we have any of those” Judy answered as she retreated to have a shower.

“Sure. One hangover special coming right up” the tiger answered as Bjørn opened the large-mammal refrigerator to look for the aforementioned vegetables. There was another smaller refrigeration unit for the rabbit and fox and the grizzly bear found the vegetables needed sitting in the crisper.  

As Judy retreated to her room, she did not notice the sly fox creep down from the loft space in naught but fur and sneak into the kitchen for a cup.

The yip of surprise, though, did make the rabbit doe chuckle as she opened the door in her room to the ensuite bath.

As she stepped inside and turned on the lights, she appreciated the small-mammal adapters and attachments that transformed the lion-sized bathtub into a mini-pool where she could comfortably fit twelve other rabbits or three wolves.

=====================================================================================

0530 Hours

April 16, 2016

Loft Bedroom,

Penthouse Apartment,

West Savannah Central Park Place Apartments,

Nicholas Wilde

In a dimly-lit bedroom punctuated by soft accent lights, a rolled-up burrito lay on a teenage panther’s former bed. A blue-black nose poked out of the blanket and began to smell wonderful scents wafting up from the kitchen below.

With a sigh and a grumble, the burrito blanket unwrapped itself to reveal a slim red fox spooning with a fox-sized pillow. Blinking open emerald eyes, the fox wondered if this would be his life now. With the continued grumbling of his stomach, he reluctantly left the warmth of the bed and sought to sneakily climb down the loft stairs to snag a few links of delectable turkey sausages from his neighbours.

In his sleep-addled state, he barely noticed that he was justifiably in the fur; having managed to even shed his plaid boxers.

Scratching his furred bottom, he descended the eighteen medium-mammal steps (where once there were nine large steps) to the living room and his nose led the way to the delicious aromas coming out of the kitchen’s closed door.

Opening said door, he was greeted by the scents increasing a thousand-fold and he began to salivate at the prospect of washing greasy food down with coffee. He did wonder when Finnick managed to get the keys to his apartment.

Ah well, the little fox always knew how to wake Daddy up.

“Good morning, cadet. You seem a little loose today” a lighter voice than the deep baritone of the fennec broke through the semi-conscious fog surrounding his brain.

“Wha?” the fox replied as he tried to make sense of who was calling out to him.

“Here, have a whiff” another mammal’s paw entered the fox’s field of vision with a thimble-sized amount of black gold.

“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself, Morty” the fox replied as he inhaled the heavenly aroma that was a good cup of coffee and took a sip of the bitter liquid, uncaring that the two mammals in the kitchen shared a look of amusement over his triangular ears.

The moment he swallowed, his emerald eyes sparkled, and his mind fully woke. He was now able to contemplate the dual shadows cast on him and he looked up from the cup into the amused faces of a tiger and brown bear.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty” the buff tiger informed him, covered only by an apron as he held a spatula in one paw. The pop and hiss of fried foods sounding behind the tiger.

“Morning Cadet Wilde, are you happy to see us?” an equally amused brown bear in a pair of blue ZPD boxers smiled down at him.

The fox was now ashamed to admit that his immediate thought was to look down and groaned at little Nick sticking out from his cream front. His immediate action was to yip and use his bushy brush to cover his naked front.

He then facilitated a tactical retreat from the kitchen under the stares of both larger predators, before breaking into a run for the nearest bathroom. Just as the door closed behind him, he could hear the uproarious laughter emanate from the two.

=====================================================================================

When Judy Hopps returned to the dining room in her Class A uniform, plates for four mammals were already set on the dining table. Two chairs sized for small and medium mammals were part of the dining arrangement and the utensils reflected that. On the table, under covers, were plates of fried eggs, sausages, kippers, tomatoes, fried eggplants sliced restaurant-style and topped with melted cheese, and two pitchers of orange juice with one of coffee. Creamer and sugar were also placed on the table by the brown bear. Four glasses and four cups were set up around the table.

She placed both her paws to her muzzle as it looked like what a breakfast spread back home in Bunnyburrow looked like.

“You guys shouldn’t have” she declared as the tiger and bear were washing up the pans they used.

“Least we could do as your new roommates” Sergeant Torvald explained as the tiger was wearing bright yellow rubber gloves to do the washing up under hot water.

“Besides, Hopps. This won’t be an everyday occurrence. This is like a housewarming party. Normally, the sergeant and I rotate who cooks breakfast” Officer Roald continued as he placed the washed dishes on the drying rack.

“Yeah. And if we woke up late, it’s just cold cereal and we’re both out the door” Sergeant Torvald continued as he placed the last pan on the drying rack, taking off his rubber gloves after he did so.

“Why don’t we start eating? It’s what 6AM? My shift won’t start until 10 since Chief Bogo insisted there would be a press conference” Judy let the other two mammals know as she had no idea when Transit started their rounds.

“That’s quite generous of you, Officer Hopps. But Roald and I have the day-off today to get adjusted to our new apartment” Sergeant Torvald informed the rabbit as she sat on her extendable chair and raised it so she was level with the table.

“Speaking of, where’s Nick?” Judy asked as the tiger and bear took their respective positions at 9 and 3 o’ clock.

A suave “Right here, Carrots” made the three mammals look at a red fox nattily attired in a white shirt, red tie, and charcoal suit.

“You sure clean up nicer than the eyeful you gave the sergeant and I this morning” Roald ribbed the fox good-naturedly.

“I don’t get it? What did Nick do?” Judy was a little confused until she her mind processed the slang.

“Nick, you didn’t!” Judy dropped her head onto her, thankfully empty, plate.

“Sorry, Carrots. Guys. I usually sleep in the buff. No one else comes into a fox’s den willingly after all” Nick Wilde gently explained his position, as he rubbed the back of his head with his triangular ears flat against his head in embarrassment.

“No problem. Back at the Academy, James Wolford was the same. Most gigged cadet for sleepwalking while naked” Officer Roald informed the two smaller mammals of the juicy gossip that Hopps apparently missed, waving off Nick Wilde’s concerns. “I swear Captain Friedkin wanted to tie him to his bed every night”.

“Wait,” Judy interrupted, “this is the same Tundratown’s most decorated officer, Captain James Wolford?”

“Mm-hmm” Sergeant Torvald nodded as he opened the cover on the fried protein and passed the platter to first Wilde then Roald who each took a piece of egg, sausage, and ham.

In front of Judy’s plate, the tiger had helpfully placed all the vegetables that the rabbit would need to start her day.

“Sergeant?” Judy asked as she spooned a generous helping of alfalfa sprouts, lettuce, and the fried eggplants onto her plate. “Are you related to the Tordenskjold poultry farmers in Predburrow?”

“Aa-yup!” the tiger replied with a grin full of mirth, and bits of romaine lettuce. “Imma country hick!”

The bear snorted into his cup of coffee; thankful he had not taken a sip yet. Otherwise, he was certain that Officer Hopps would need another bath.   

“Don’t let the accent fool you, Officer Hopps. The sergeant is a city boy, born and bread” Roald replied as he pointed at the tiger with a piece of cornbread.

“Oh gods. This is so good” Nick moaned around the perfectly cooked turkey sausage, fried eggplant parmigiana, and cornbread. “Tastes like Moe’s Diner down at Flock Street before it closed five years ago”, the fox continued as he took another bite.

“It should be good. I was the baker for Moe’s till the old goat kicked it” Officer Bjørn interjected as he devoured the tiger’s cooking.

“I was the line chef” Sergeant Torvald volunteered as he enjoyed the leisurely pace as the mammals partook of breakfast.

“You guys need to show me around the city some time. All I know are the tourist spots on the brochure” Judy interrupted the reminiscing, glancing at the gilded clock hanging over the large-mammal refrigerator.

“Why not take cadet Wilde with you? He should know more of the city being a fox and all” Officer Bjorn suddenly blurted out.

The table suddenly hushed as everyone turned to look at the red fox to see if he would blow up. Being called out as a fox had many mammals immediately explode in fury.

“If you guys wanted me to take offense, you’re going to have to try harder. I worked with HRT yesterday and, as far as I can tell, the other agents preferred foxes watching their backs” Nick replied with an easy grin, the words sliding off him. “Besides,” here Nick leaned on the table, “how am I going to get through the Academy if I can’t take a few insults?”

“That’s the spirit, Wilde” Sergeant Torvald lightly clapped the fox on his back, careful not to send the mammal drowning into his food. Captain Wolford forever gave him the stink eye whenever they met in an official capacity.

“So, as fun as it is to pick on the fox, when does Transit start its shift? I thought you guys would be gone with the sun” Nick asked as he indicated the rising sun at the tiger’s back.

“Well, Bjørn and I forgot that we don’t live in Shady Pines anymore, we got up at 4:30 to prepare for the day. Had Officer Hopps not reminded us that we live in Savannah Central, we would have clocked in during the night shift. Our normal time in would be 8AM, same with every precinct” Sergeant Torvald pointed out.

“I get up at 5:30 everyday. You can take the bunny off the farm but can’t take the farm out of the bunny” Judy boasted, before she relented in the face of three unamused mammals and mumbled “I also forgot that I don’t live in The Grand Pangolin Arms anymore. My commute time was two and a half hours long”.

“Glad you moved out of there, Hopps” Nick informed the rabbit from the other end of the table.

“Why? Even the Deputy Director blew his top when he learned I live there. Is it that bad?” Judy tilted her head in confusion as she continued munching on a lettuce leaf.

“Officer Hopps, Judy, that place has already been condemned by the city as unlivable. How it continues to accept tenants is beyond my understanding” Officer Bjørn responded, calling out the rabbit by her first name. “Whoever accepted you in was scamming you out of money. What was your apartment like?”

“Rickety bed and greasy walls. Had a pair of crazy neighbours too. The silence here is a lot better than hearing the arguments and make-up sex through paper-thin walls” Judy replied, lip curling in disgust that she might have been taken advantage of.

“Thank your lucky stars that the deputy director got you out of there. The rent was charged weekly or monthly?” Sergeant Torvald asked, interested in the rabbit’s former dwelling.

“Weekly. Is it that bad? I thought the apartments charged that all the time” Judy admitted as she scratched her chin.

“Everyone charges a monthly rent, Judy. The weekly chargers are usually slumlords or condemned buildings that are looking to squeeze every red cent out of you” Nick replied to her this time as he could see the tiger bend the stainless steel knife in his paw.

“Landlady?” Officer Bjørn took over the questioning.

“Dharma Pangolin” Judy answered easily. That was until she noticed the dark looks on all three predators’ faces. “What?”

“That is not ‘Dharma Pangolin’. I should know, she was a worker on my family’s poultry farm, and she died from aspergillosis” Sergeant Torvald growled out, striped tail flicking behind him.

“Carrots, Dharma Pangolin is not the real owner of the apartment complex. She is basically squatting on an abandoned city property and collecting income from it” Nick informed her.

“Yeah. She might have heard that you were the first rabbit cop and wanted to lend credibility to her illegal activity” Officer Roald agreed with the fox. A first for Nick to have a mammal in blue agree with him.

“But my things and security deposit have been returned to me. So, she’s not all bad” Judy tried to defend her former landlady, even though she was a crook.

“Judy” Sergeant Torvald informed her with a hard look “the only reason you got your things back is because the FBI Deputy Director sent armed agents to ‘convince’ the pangolin to give it up”.

“Okay, I agree. I had a bad apartment. Please let us not bring this up again” Judy pleaded, and the mood brightened.

“Sure. Consider it dropped” Sergeant Tordenskjold smiled fanglessly at her.

“Guys, I know how uncomfortable it is for predators not to smile naturally in public. How about showing me your pearly whites?” Judy informed the trio at the breakfast table. The three looked at her like she had three heads.

“What? My best friends growing up were predators” Judy blinked as the three smiled naturally. More tension being released.

“So, Wilde, where did you sleep before getting such sweet digs?” Officer Bjørn then turned his questioning to the red fox inhaling the turkey sausages like they were going out of fashion.

“Call me Nick, guys. We’re going to be roommates anyway” Nick answered slyly as he swallowed the helping of eggs, sausage, and fluffy cornbread.

“Fine. I’m Roald. Pronounced as ‘rolled’” the bear replied, placing the pronunciation between finger quotes.

“I’m Torvald, call me Tor or Vald. It’s up to you” the tiger shrugged as he took a sip of the coffee and sighed. It was better quality than what Transit had in the breakroom.

“I’m Judy. Though, if I’m getting yelled at its usually Hopps” Judy replied, inserting what every mammal in authority did to her. *cough* Bogo *cough*

“Remember when I was telling you,” addressing Judy, “that ‘Sooner or later, her dreams die and she goes to living from a box under a bridge?’”.

“Oh my gosh! That was you? You were projecting?” Judy had tears in her eyes and wanted to rush around the table to hug the fox, bunnies wore their emotions on their sleeves.

“I graduated with honours in Psychology, master’s degree in Performing Arts. I find out after I graduated that no matter how good my professors approved of me, no one wants to hire a fox as anything but manual labour” Nick replied deprecatingly as he took a sip of coffee.

The corresponding shattering of a glass tumbler in Roald’s paw was not what he was expecting as a response.

“Bastards!” the bear swore. Then stood up to get a rag for the broken glass shards. “Sorry”.  

“At least you have the Academy now, what did you do beforepaw?” Tor asked, standing up to get a broom and dustpan for any shards that were missed.

“I’m not proud of myself. I used to be a con-artist and informant for the Bureau” Nick admitted freely as he looked down at the plate, not wanting to see the disgust in the officers’ faces.

“Well, mammal” Tor patted the fox’s shoulder and making the fox look up in shock, “The only way to go now is up. Roald and I have your back if your sordid past comes to bite ya”.

=====================================================================================

0805 Hours

Secure Holding Facility

Undisclosed Location

Cell Block D

Dr. Madge Honey Badger

The buzzer sounded as the barred steel doors drew back.

Dr. Madge Honey Badger watched passively as she was fitted with an ankle monitor by unsmiling guards. A bundle of grey ‘Federal Detainee’ uniforms was pressed into her paws. She simply sighed and wanted this part to be over with.

She had already been stripped of her old clothes, forcibly fumigated for delousing, and given a cold shower. At least, she had been given toiletries and could use the fur dryer. She knew that most prisoners would just have to airdry.

Woe to those with thick, double coats as they would never sufficiently dry.

“This way, doctor. Follow me” a female pronghorn antelope gestured at her neutrally.

Madge had no choice as the wolf behind her prodded her forward with the butt of his rifle. Once again, she sighed that she had thrown away her medical career by joining the mayor in illegally detaining fourteen mammals.

Mammals who had reverted to their feral states, but mammals with rights. She should have argued more strongly to bring in outside experts, even just to reach out to the federal government with a hypothetical scenario. 

Instead, here she was. Walking through the corridors of a federal detainment facility that looked empty, yet it was not the emptiness that chilled her soul.

No, it was the certainty that she would never breathe free air again.

The pronghorn suddenly stopped at an open cell door and bade for her to step inside.

Taking a deep breath, she did.

When the heavy door closed behind her, it took a lot for Madge not to turn around and beg for clemency.

For sitting inside the cell was a snow leopard in a suit.

His smile was unsettling as he patted the hard cot beside him.

Madge knew who this was. Knew what the mammal in front of her was capable of.

Whispers on the dark web her niece frequented made many mentions of a certain Shinigami. Once Shinigami set his sights on you, you could run to the ends of the earth, and he would still find you. Her niece lost many acquaintances on the dark web, their usernames going dark. When the usernames lit up once more, the checks her niece used to verify identity were never answered.

As if the users had been replaced with puppets.

Then her niece had vanished too.

Madge shivered, despite her calm outside appearance. She wondered: Would she be replaced too?

Then the snow leopard spoke, and the frost melted.

Madge wondered what her worries were about.

The snow leopard was very much a friend as he nodded at her concerns.

How could she think any less of him?

The snow leopard explained why he was here and asked if she would like to help cure the savage predators. He had then insinuated that the fault lay squarely at the mayor and assistant mayor’s feet as they tried to divide Zootopia in a political tug of war.

Yes, it was all Leodore’s doing! Him and that traitorous ewe of his!

Of course, Dr. Madge Honey Badger was on board! Her Hippocratic oath demanded nothing less!

=====================================================================================

0945 Hours

Precinct One Atrium

Chief Adrian Bogo  

The cape buffalo was worried.

For all his bluster and brash demeanour, he had no idea how to assure the public that their relatives had been found. But, that there were complications.

The snow leopard had promised that he would be present to assuage the public’s worries. That the fourteen missing mammals are currently receiving treatment for madmammal experimentation done on them.

The snow leopard had promised to be there by 0930 hours.

He was now late, and the press conference started in fifteen minutes.

The snow leopard’s subordinates were present and talking candidly amongst themselves, unworried of their boss’ tardiness. Among their number they had included his insubordinate officer, and she was giving them as good as she got!

Adrian could feel a migraine coming on as reporters continued to file in, setting up their cameras and microphones at the podium.

His hooves felt clammy and lacked strength. His desk sergeant, Benjamin Clawhauser, had pushed a cup of hot coffee into his hooves for fortification. Adrian could not even drink his favourite coffee order of cappuccino, extra foam. His mind raced on what he could or could not say.

What of the destruction of the historical Tarif Souq yesterday near Big Dune? Could he say why Animalian armed forces units were present or was he just to say it was a classified operation?

“Chief, do you need a moment?” the voice of the snow leopard broke through his racing thoughts as the predator patted his left hoof.

Suddenly, there was clarity and Adrian finally relaxed as his thoughts calmed.

No need to worry, the snow leopard was back.

=====================================================================================

0845 Hours

V-22 Osprey Transport

FBI Deputy Director Ivan del Morte

I was rushing towards Precinct One, using one of the V-22 Osprey tiltrotor planes of the United States of Animalia Air Force.

I had just left the detention facility in Marshlands after convincing Dr. Madge Honey Badger to work with Centre for Disease Control and Prevention (CDCP) researchers to see if they could find a breakthrough in developing Night Howler counteragents to return the fourteen mammals back to normal. It was only as I checked my watch did I realise that I was going to be late for the press conference.  

I guess I lost track of time talking with the knowledgeable internist. 

I just hope I pointed her in the right direction.

I don’t remember how she did it the original time.

I called for transport from Central Command, and they sent an Osprey to pick me up at 0845.

“Captain Reynolds, sorry I had to disturb your normal flight plan. Overlord suggested I hitch a ride with you” I apologised to the pilot of the tiltrotor aircraft as I sat in the cockpit where the flight engineer normally sat.

“Hey, that’s alright Deputy Director. Zootopia’s on the way to Beaverbrook, anyway” the pilot, Captain Nathaniel Reynolds (mountain lion), commented as he flew the aircraft in a relatively straight line to Savannah Central and Precinct One.

His co-pilot, 1Lt. Cassandra Perkins (Eurasian bobcat), was monitoring the instrument panel for any sudden deviations.

“Savannah Central Terminal Station coming up. Five mikes out” the lieutenant said as the train station could be seen now through the windscreen of the plane.

I checked my watch, the hands on the clock now said it was 0943.

“How close can you get me to Precinct One, Captain?” I asked the mountain lion as he checked for the green-roofed concrete structure.

“I can try getting you there, but there seems to be a lot of mammals in the way” the captain commented as he came in low, switching the propellers to tilt upwards so he could land like a helicopter.

“Steady as she goes, captain” his co-pilot informed the pilot as I traded places quickly with the other cougar, flight engineer Chief Warrant Officer Johnny Matthew (CWO-3).

I had barely made it back to my seat when the tiltrotor was hit with a sudden burst of turbulence and the entire plane shuddered. I grit my teeth as the turbulence had flung me onto the hard aluminium floor and I decided to just lie there until the shaking ended, fur all puffed out.

I felt the plane touch down and a strong pair of paws set me to rights.

“Thanks Chief” I thanked the crew chief, Sergeant Lombardi, who gave a brief nod and opened the side door so I could step out of the craft with Agents Carmichael and Monroe (pronghorn).

The three of us were met by a crowd of reporters as they jostled each other to get to us, keeping a safe distance from the spinning blades of the tiltrotor craft as it lifted off again.

“Deputy Director, can you tell us what happened in Sahara District?” one shouted out.

“Deputy Director, have you found the missing mammals?” another called out.

I raised my voice as I tried to placate the growing crowd.

I saw TUSK officers ploughing a way through the mob and I smirked as I saw four of my own agents with them. “Why don’t we all get into the station and ask questions there? Much as I like to shout, I don’t think my voice will last all that long”.

The unanimous cry of “OKAY!” startled me a bit as the cameras and reporters rushed into the station.

The press flowed around the confused TUSK officers as they made their way inside. It was at this point that Agent Carmichael sidled up to me and whispered, “Sir, were you aware that your eyes were glowing when you talked to the press?”.

I whispered back “Should I have been?”.

Yes, you should.

“I hope I don’t see glowing eyes on the playback, sir. That will be cause for concern” the painted hound whispered as confused TUSK officers formed a mobile wall around us as we moved together to the side entrance of the station.

“My life is weird enough already. I’ll take what I can get” I whispered back Agent Carmichael as Agent Monroe snorted.

The TUSK commander, Albert Brannigan, met the three of us inside as TUSK then loosened formation.

“Good morning, Deputy Director. Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, doughnut?” the African bull elephant asked as he put his forehooves together in a sign of supplication, his trunk curled in an upside-down question mark.

“Commander Brannigan, I thought only office interns fetch the refreshments. Why are you acting like it?” I countered as the elephant then lifted me with his trunk and hugged me against his armoured chest.

“Because I got the news from Chief Palmer. He said you exterminated the gang that killed off my entire family” the bull whispered back, tears in his eyes.

“Triple Hump killed your entire family?” I asked, an icy rage falling over me. I was briefly aware that Agent Carmichael adjusted his suddenly tight collar and dialled it back.

“We had a reunion down by the beachfront. I was delayed by paperwork for an hour. I came to no survivors amongst my family. Even the ZPD officers standing guard were slaughtered. One lived long enough to tell me who did it. A bunch of camels in desert robes struck all through the celebration, not even the two-month old calf was spared” the bull elephant whispered as he hugged me close, his back to the press to shield me from the cameras.

“But, the radios of your officers? Surely a call would have gone out” I prodded the weeping bull, who shook his tusked head morosely.

“The gang had someone disable the phone lines and the radio repeater. No message went out, but the cruisers had call logs. When Precinct Two arrived fifteen minutes before I did, the attackers were long gone. I only found out when a discarded camcorder recorded the whole thing and corroborated the dying officer’s words” the bull said as he gently set me back down, removed a napkin from his pocket with his trunk, and dabbed at his eyes as he walked away.

“How far back was this?” I asked Agent Monroe as the pronghorn was a native of the desert district, if just on the fringes.

“Four decades before you showed up, sir. Neither the Bureau nor the Agency heard anything of it as ZPD wanted to keep it under wraps. A little too well, if you ask me” the female pronghorn replied as she tapped her chin. “At least, we managed to bring peace to one mammal”, she added as she gestured with her horned head at the sniffling elephant.

“Well, I can always ask Cybercrimes to do some digging. Eli Entee (ELINT) should have something for us as well if there were communications that far back” I offered the antelope.

“True. Let’s just head over to Chief Bogo. He looks like he’s three seconds away from a stroke” Agent Monroe replied, ending the conversation as we made our way over to a beleaguered looking cape buffalo.

On the way, buoyant laughter made me turn my head and it warmed my heart that Judy Hopps was getting along well with law enforcement. Even if just the HRT squad of FBI Special Agent von Kaggerak. Nick stood uneasily beside her in a coat and tie, hoping no one else took notice of his previous life as a con artist. I recognised the cut as something expensive the Agency provided for high-level agents. The only thing Nick lacked was a badge, but I could fix him up with one if he was serious at the Academy.

FBI Special Agent Matthias had forwarded the CliffsNotes version of Nick’s performance after all. Nick’s hustle of Mayor Lionheart and Doctor Honey Badger was a textbook example of bluffing at its finest!

I made my way over to a barely coherent cape buffalo, Agents Carmichael and Monroe went over to Sergeant Clawhauser to secure three more ‘GUEST’ IDs for us, and patted his left hoof with my right paw as I asked him, “Chief, do you need a moment?”

=====================================================================================

1000 Hours

Precinct One Atrium

FBI Deputy Director Ivan del Morte (Shinigami)

I, Agent Carmichael, Colonel Paca, Officer Judy Hopps, ‘Cadet’ Nicholas Wilde, Precinct Two SWAT Commander al-Moustafa, and Chief Palmer, all stood on a stage in the atrium as Chief of Police Adrian Bogo stood behind a podium with the symbol of the ZPD and addressed the press. The small mammals like Judy and Nick stood on risers to make their heads level with us.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemammals of the press as well as the viewing public” the chief began to clicks of camera shutters and flashbulbs going off. “As you may well know there was a significant military and federal presence yesterday in and around the area of Big Dune. The ZPD, in conjunction with multiple federal agencies and the United States military, has managed to eradicate one of the perennial problems to development in the Sahara District. Yesterday, the Triple Hump Gang were exterminated like the snakes that they were; crushed beneath the long arm of the law. Kindly save all questions until I finish. Intelligence gathered by federal agencies suggested that the wholly desert mammal gang was building strength for something. What that something is, I do not know as it was deemed a federal matter and may be explored later with the FBI Deputy Director with us today” Chief Bogo said, giving me a little side-eye to nervous chuckles from the press.

“The operation itself was a resounding success as the entire leadership was taken out in one strike and the lower mammals put to the sword. I know” here the chief raised his right hoof to forestall any comments as he read from the prepared statement, “that many would have liked to see justice done in the courts. But the order came from higher than the agencies. According to the deputy director, Congress itself issued the order that none be left alive to ‘further stain the soul of the gleaming city of Zootopia.’” Chief Bogo added hoof quotes at the appropriate phrase, causing a few reporters to smile as the notoriously business-like chief acting like a teenager. “Make no mistake, there were losses on our side as well” the chief continued with some degree of sadness. “At least four SWAT officers were grievously injured by an IED set by one of the gang and two soldiers killed by the self-same IED. The hospitalisation and funeral expenses are being paid for out of the deputy director’s budget as he feels a duty to the mammals in the front line. I cannot release the names of the dead and injured to protect their family’s right to privacy”, the cape buffalo added, shutting down that line of questioning.

“I turn the floor now to the FBI Deputy Director for the next successful operation yesterday” Chief Bogo ended his statement and turned away from the reporters’ shouting questions, skilfully passing the ball into my court.

I scowled as I moved forward and exchanged places with the buffalo at the podium. Shorter than Chief Bogo, I made sure that there was a riser for me to appear at roughly the same height as the chief when I spoke.

“Yes. Thank you for tossing the entire flaming ball into my court, Chief Bogo. That makes everything so much easier” I replied with dry sarcasm as the reporters laughed at my delivery.

The tension in the room bleeding off.

I licked my lips before I spoke. “Where to begin on the two other simultaneous raids?” I asked the reporters rhetorically.

“Maybe with some cake!” an obviously hungry raccoon in ZNN gear announced as everyone took a large step away from him.

“Should I call a break for refreshments?” I asked the reporters. “No, I will not. We still have much to cover before lunch and this is a live broadcast. Your offices will bother me when I have lunch later otherwise” I answered my own question and joked a little.

“Yesterday, while the operation to root out the entrenched desert gang was ongoing. I despatched two more groups to where intelligence suggested that the fourteen missing mammals were kept inside the city-state. One group, as was filmed by an amateur videographer named Kennethxoxo69, breached into the abandoned Happy Days Home for Seniors…” I informed the reporters as a shaky video was projected on the white screen on my right (observer’s left).

=====================================================================================

Kennethxoxo69, or Wilma Caitlyn Runner, was present in the crowd of reporters.

The marbled fox vixen had been taping herself for a video presentation for her high-school Ethics Class as she scrubbed graffiti off a wall with the other members of her group.

Rather, she was the one being used as a wet rag by the others to scrub graffiti off the wall, repeatedly being dunked into a bucket of soapy water. At the sound of sirens, her classmates had abandoned her to her fate as they ran from the alley that the group was supposed to clean. Coughing out dirty water, the vixen managed to reach her concealed phone and shakily captured the first federal elements breach the front doors of the former senior home. The gunshots ringing out did not faze her. Despite her wet fur, and the shivers when a breeze fluttered through the alley, she was able to stay still enough that the federal cordon only found her when she sneezed.

She may have been darted by the agents as she woke up in her bed this morning. The previous day’s events likely written off as a dream if not for the presence of a ‘PRESS’ lanyard looped around her wrist and an open invite for a live broadcast at Precinct One under her fluffy Gazelle bodypillow.

Here she was now amongst the crowd, staring wide-eyed as her footage was used for the city-state news agencies.

=====================================================================================

“…everyone kindly give a warm applause for Miss Wilma Runner for doing what no other mammal, save war correspondents, have managed to do. Run towards battle instead of away from it” I let the reporters know as a spotlight shined down on the marble fox.

There was confused applause among the reporters as they could not see who it was until the marbled fox came forward.

“Miss Runner, up on stage please” I informed the vixen as she shyly climbed the steps. Agent Monroe assisting the fox up the three steps to the stage. The tiny “Thank you” did not go unnoticed by those on stage and Agent Carmichael had a brief flash of fury before he snuffed it out.

“Miss Runner, in recognition for your courage under fire, I am willing to sponsor your entry to whichever university in the country catches your fancy. And assign a small stipend for you” I continued talking as I knelt in front of the cameras in front of the awestruck marble fox.

“I…I…I don’t know what to say” Miss Runner whispered, her voice barely caught on the microphones. Every camera in the room switched off the red lights as the live broadcast faded.

“Chin up, Miss Runner. Dark tunnels don’t last forever” I replied, placing my paw under her snout, before patting her on the head as I stood up. The marble vixen meekly followed Special Agent von Kaggerak off the stage as her time with me was up.

“Now, we come to the third operation undertaken yesterday” I informed the cameras and reporters as the red lights once more came on and the live broadcast resumed.

“I am not going to sugarcoat it. Yes, we found the fourteen missing mammals at Cliffside Mental Asylum” as I gestured to the white projection screen as selected clips from Officer Hopps and Cadet Wilde’s bodycam footage were placed.

“Chief Bogo handed out fourteen missing mammal cases. They’re all here” Officer Hopps heard her own voice and smiled wanly at the hope and deduction.

Chief Bogo sighed with relief that the footage was somewhat tame.

“Mayor Lionheart had a paw in their being rendered missing” I continued as the footage cut to him arguing with a badger.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN BIOLOGY!” Mayor Lionheart roared out as he poked the badger in scrubs beside him.

“Mayor Lionheart, please!” the badger in scrubs begged. “We have to go public!”

“Hmm, great idea. Tell the public!” the lion mayor hmmed as he placed a finger beneath his impressive jawline.

“…are not letting out savage predators unless we can tell the public why…” the mayor continued, poking the badger before a shout of “FBI! ON THE GROUND NOW!” broke through and the clip ended.

“Mayor Lionheart was concerned for the safety of the mammals in the city at large. Advance units of the DEA found a grow lab in an abandoned subway car not far from where the last missing mammal disappeared from Mystic Springs Oasis. Unfortunately, during transport of the items inside, the team was attacked and two of its members were also rendered savage” I continued to talk, as footage appeared of the two DEA agents who had gone savage, a moose and a maned wolf pacing ferociously in separate cages.

 “Also, there was a preplanned attack against one of the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Teams as they went in to retrieve a witness to the disappearance of Emmitt Otterton. The mammal in question managed to fire off a bioweapon cartridge at the responding law enforcement units and it was only by the quick thinking of FBI Special Agent Hooferson” I gestured at the now savage deer, “that the witness was prevented from being poisoned in the same way”.

“Zootopia, I know how the families of the missing mammals must feel that their relatives have been found but cannot be approached safely. Three of my own have been rendered back down to their feral states. I can assure you that researchers and scientists are being flown in from laboratories around the world to identify and neutralise the active agent that is currently affecting seventeen mammals. All I ask is a little more patience. Updates will be made available periodically. Thank you” I ended the conference as the reporters all stood up and began shouting questions.

“Deputy Director,” I pointed at a snow leopard in a purple blouse, “Fabienne Growley of ZNN. What kind of toxin is this that affects predator and prey?”

“I cannot comment on that as I do not know myself. Next” I replied to my fellow snow leopard as I pointed at a sheep in the back.

“Deputy Director, Lance Thornton of The Meadowland Daily. Is there any truth to the rumour that Mayor Lionheart hired stinking preds to do his dirty work?” the sheep asked.

“Watch yourself, Mister Thornton. I know who you work for” I answered with a smug grin. Agent Bellwether had filled me in that this was the ‘security agent’ he had roughed up.

“Gonna make me disappear too?” the ram challenged me, feeling brave in front of the press.

“Why should I? You did this to yourself” I replied as a video clip played on the white screen.

“Find me something dirty on Lionheart and make it stick! I don’t care how you do it” a female voice off-screen ordered the ram now blanching in front of the cameras.     

“T-t-that never happened!” the ram stuttered before recovering as he angled for a quick exit.

“Here you go ma’am. First mammal targeted, Lionheart’s chief of security” the ram’s own voice came out of the audio recording.

“The concierge did warn the two of you” I commented over the microphone as the audio warning of the concierge at La Lobo Blanco played back. “No business is to be conducted here. Just relax and enjoy the show”

ZPD officers approached, steadily backing the ram into a corner.

The ram panicked and ran into the open arms of TUSK Commander Brannigan who then slammed the ram into the ground with his trunk.

The snarled-out “You have the right to remain silent!” rang throughout the atrium over the noise of reporters.

“I suggest we reconvene after lunch” I informed the reporters as everyone heard Chief Bogo’s stomach rumble. “Chief Bogo looks hungry enough to have Mister Thornton for lunch”

=====================================================================================

1030 Hours

1200 Snowdrift Avenue, Tundratown

Antonio Big’s Tundratown Manor

“Daddy! Come quick!” Fru-Fru rang her father over his mobile phone as her favourite soap ‘Da Cattivi ad Amanti’ was interrupted by a live broadcast from Precinct One.

“Baby, what is it?” Antonio Big appeared in the family room on the palm of Koslov.

“We found the fourteen missing mammals at Cliffside Asylum” the FBI deputy director pointed out on the white screen of the profile pictures of fourteen predators.

“Mio Dio, he did it” Antonio breathed out as the largest polar bear hurriedly placed his boss on the table and ran from the room in tears. [My God] The two shrews could hear the large mammal’s sobs as he ran, heavy footfalls pounding on the carpeted floors.

One of the fourteen missing mammals was the Capo y Capo’s mate, Ivana Taiga.

Ivana had vanished on a mere shopping run down to the fish market at the docks. Her basket of fish had been found, and so was her purse. Of the bear herself, the only evidence she had been there at all was the Lyondale perfume she loved so much.

Antonio, and Koslov, thought a rival gang had her and had iced many mammals looking for the polar bear’s mate.

Antonio had a sick feeling creep up his gut at icing so many mammals that he was certain Shinigami would appear beside him with a disapproving look. Sparing a quick look, he was gratified that was not the case.

“Mayor Lionheart had a paw in rendering these mammals missing” the snow leopard explained. “…was concerned for the safety of the city at large. Advance units…” the live broadcast continued to play but neither shrew was paying attention.

“Daddy, what will you do?” Fru-Fru asked, her husband having gone back to work at the pharmacy in Little Rodentia.

“Throw myself at Ivan’s claws and hope he is merciful” Antonio sighed out as he motioned for young Antoine to carry him back out.

=====================================================================================

Liam Wolford was busily rushing to deliver an order of four medium-mammal stir-fry noodles to the FBI building when he had to halt his scooter suddenly as a green grocery van almost T-boned him as he passed in front of an alleyway.

The wolf’s quick reflexes, honed by motorists keen on hitting deliverymammals, had him dive away from his scooter as it was crushed beneath the tires of the van as it sped away. Letting out a curse that the orders would come out of his pocket, Liam then stuck his head into the alleyway and saw a lot of mammals in suits surrounded by spent casings. There were spreading pools of blood from at least three.

Rushing over the wolf applied rudimentary first aid to the first mammal he saw, a maned wolf in tactical gear. Gently setting the maned wolf against the front wheel of the bullet-shattered SUV, Liam shucked off the helmet and was shocked that the maned wolf was dead. There was no pulse, just the glassy-eyed stare.

Pulling out his phone, he closed the delivery app and with shaking paws, called 1-1-2.

The phone rang for two beats before it was picked up. “Emergency Services, Diane speaking.”

“I need ZPD to come a-a-and an ambulance to the alley between 112 Parkway Drive and King’s Cross pharmacy. I’ve got my paws on a bleeding agent and I t-t-think something bad happened here” Liam reported to the emergency dispatcher.  

“Deep breaths, son. Can you tell me your name?” the dispatcher asked as she rang the nearest emergency response unit and the local FBI office.

 “L-L-Liam W-w-olford” Liam replied, stuttering out as he moved to a still-breathing agent.

“Okay, Liam. Can you give me the status of anyone else present?”

“C-c-c-cold” the agent, a white wolf, gurgled out around a mouthful of blood as he held the paw of the black wolf kneeling beside him.

“Stay awake buddy. Help is on the way” Liam tried to assure a fellow wolf as the other’s breathing got more and more laboured.

“I NEED SOME HELP OVER HERE!” Liam shouted back down the alleyway but dropped his black-furred head when no one heard him.

“Liam, honey? Can you give me the name of the agent?” the dispatcher’s soft tone interrupting the morbid scene as the white wolf coughed and expired. The white wolf’s arm went slack.

“Agent Grant, T.” Liam replied, holding back sobs as he read the nametape of the agent. He then closed the eyelids of the white wolf as he howled in grief.

A shadow dropped over him, and the almost-feral Liam charged at the neck of the mammal.

“Easy! Easy! Liam, its James!” Captain Wolford held his younger cousin in a headlock as the wolf snarled and tried to bite.

A dart into the side and Liam went to the land of dreams.

Chapter Text

Nine Months Later…

The beeping of machines was the first thing that greeted Finnick as he slowly gained wakefulness.

.

.

.

Opening his eyes took considerable effort, but he was rewarded by seeing Nick sleeping in a chair. Nick’s attire seemed a bit odd, though.

.

.

.

He tried to smile at the sight, but something seemed to be blocking his throat. Slowly, he tried raising one of his arms and his right arm came up with a maze of lines and tubes. Feeling his short muzzle, he found the oxygen mask and a tube down his throat. Before he could panic at how the tube itched, a grey furred arm gently patted the fennec’s right arm.

Slowly turning his head, Finnick saw a smiling rabbit cop.

“Bu-ee coh” Finnick mumbled. [Bunny cop]

“Hey Finn. I’ll call the nurse and she can get that tube out of your throat, okay?” Judy Hopps patted the desert fox’s arm as she pressed the call button.

“Wh- H-?” Finnick mumbled, trying to formulate a question but the tube was in the way.

“Good afternoon, Mister Canarias. I am Nurse Enfield. I can take that tube out of you, just stay still” a female ocelot in a nurse’s uniform appeared and comforted the fox.

Slowly, the nurse and an assistant pull out the tube that helped the small mammal breathe when he was comatose. Mucus and blood coated the tube as it was gently removed.

As the end of the plastic tube clears his muzzle, Finnick violently began coughing. The hacking wheezes woke up Nick and the red fox was beside his best friend with a bottle of water and a straw.

“Here Fin. Use the straw” Nick encouraged his friend to take a sip.

Fin managed to seal his mouth around the straw and slowly drew water up the plastic instrument. After several attempts, the fennec was able to wet his dry lips with the cool liquid.

“I’ll be back with the doctor. Please use the call button if you need assistance” the ocelot nurse informed the three as she softly closed the door behind her.

“See anything different?” Nick asked as he turned around in front of the fennec. The dark blue suit, black tie, and white shirt seeming familiar to the fennec as the red fox modelled in front of his friend. When Nick faced his friend, the badge on the hip was a dead giveaway on what the kid had become.

The plastic ID card on a black lanyard hanging around the other fox’s neck with the word ‘AGENT’ spelled out in helpful block letters was also a dead giveaway.

“Mammal, why you blue?” Finnick’s first sentence was a question of why or how full-time street hustler Nick Wilde joined the FBI.

“Shinigami’s idea” Judy answered for Nick, who gave a mock scowl at her for stealing his thunder.

“He had your record expunged, Finn. Called you the longest undercover agent in Animalian history and what you did to keep your cover has been swept under a rug” Nick continued where Judy left off.

“S’ long as it’s not a skunk butt rug” Finn commented as he closed his eyes to sleep.

“Sleep well, big guy. You’ve earned it” Nick gave a chaste kiss to the fennec’s head and left the room, turning down the lights as he did so.  

The fennec slept the sleep of the dead for the first time in a long time.

=====================================================================================

As Nick closed the door, he was immediately confronted by Judy.

“What did you mean Deputy Director del Morte had Finn’s record expunged?” Judy heatedly asked. This was news to her.

“Ssshhh, Carrots. Not here” Nick shushed the impatient rabbit as the two of them made their way out of the heavily-guarded hospital wing. Mammals in full armoured tactical gear stationed at every two columns, glancing at them from the corner of their eyes before resuming the Palace Guard stance.

It took all that the rabbit had not to have her eyes consciously bug out at all the firepower.  

“Had a good visit, cadet?” a bored-looking grey and tan wolf at the exit to the wing asked, the tip of a rifle barrel poking over the table.

“The best” Nick sarcastically drawled out as the wolf chuckled in response.

“Be a good boy Wilde and you can come back to see him” the wolf continued as he held out his paw for the two to hand over their IDs.

Judy and Nick handed over their ID lanyards to the open paw of the wolf and stepped out when the lock to the door disengaged.

Nick couldn’t resist a parting shot. “Aren’t I always?” to the amused groan of the wolf.

The two mammals then continued to walk on a steel bridge walkway that connected the isolated hospital unit to another airlock. Stepping through the unlocked outer door, Nick sealed the two of them in and they waited for the air to cycle. With a hiss as pressurisation normalised, the inner door then unlocked.

Judy was fidgeting in place, rapidly stomping her paws as she walked to a seated snow leopard reading on a tablet.

Her first instinct was to grab the mammal by his tie and demand answers. She ruthlessly stomped down on that. She’d be bunny pate in a heartbeat with all the bored-looking guards having an excuse to kill her.

Still seething and in a calm voice, she asked, “Deputy Director, why did you remove Finnick’s criminal record? He should be seeing the inside of a jail cell, not walk free among the rest of the world!”

The snow leopard turned to her, putting the tablet into the waiting hooves of a suited hippo with an earpiece. “I should ask you that very same question, Miss Hopps. Did you or did you not attempt to blackmail Mister Wilde with felony tax evasion when you needed help for your case? Then continue to threaten him with bodily harm if he refused?”

The snow leopard then turned to Nick as Judy sputtered, “How do you find the fit of that suit? Good, no?”

“A little tacky” Nick admitted as he started to remove the costume from his person.

Public nudity was something one got used to growing up on the streets. Nick still could not believe he now shared an apartment with three police officers.

Another hippo arrived with a newly pressed neon green Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts, and a red striped tie for Nick. A red pawkerchief was included, newly washed as well.

“You’ll find that you will be taken cared of if you wish to stay on, Nick. I take good care of my agents” the deputy director informed the fox tod who just ruefully shook his head.

Nick looked back longingly at the airlock and bridgeway that separated him from his one-time best friend.

“I understand” Deputy Director del Morte nodded. “The pain is too fresh for you”.

Taking a yellowed application form from the inner right jacket pocket of the costume, Nick silently presented the paper to the snow leopard.

“Looks like you already have your chosen path in law enforcement” the snow leopard commented as he saw the seal of the ZPD on the top of the page. He knew the fox was telling the truth about the rabbit needing a firm paw to help guide her.

Nick nodded confidently. He then leaned in and motioned the snow leopard closer.

Good naturedly, the snow leopard did.

“Truthfully, Officer Fluff needs someone to go with her. She almost got us killed with Big if you did not show up. If she had not saved Fru-Fru a few days before she confronted Big, we’d both be popsicles under the manor” Nick admitted in a whisper. “Then, she almost got us killed again at Cliffside by suggesting we jump into the mayor’s limo”.

Glancing behind him, Nick noticed that Judy was now gushing over a striped hare in a suit. The hare was looking amused at the rabbit’s attentions.

“If you really feel better joining local instead of federal, I’ll have a letter written up with my personal recommendation for you to enter the ZPA. Two additional references from FBI Director Savage, the striped hare behind you, and USAF General Franklin Williams should just about cover it. I just need your current permanent address” the snow leopard promised, knowing it should be the penthouse apartment he shared with three other officers.

“Yeah…about that?” Nick scratched the back of his head bashfully. “I…um…like my old one”.

“1955 Cypress Grove? Do you know who currently lives at that address?” the snow leopard asked playfully.

“Found out the hard way when I stopped by to ‘water the plants’” Nick wryly admitted as he rubbed his wrists in memory.

 Another tablet was provided by a helpful agent, this one the very same who arrested his own cousin and exposed more cells posing as notorious hitmammal Douglas Ramses.

“Thank you, Agent Bellwether,” the snow leopard complimented the ram who had a wolf-like smirk on his face.

“Most welcome, sir” the ram replied as he waited at parade rest as I searched for the embarrassing entry.

“Ah, here it is. Ahem. ‘Caught trespassing on federal property on the night of March 13, 2010. Red fox tod with obviously fake name of Arthur B. Cunning found attempting to perform public urination on a thriving begonia at the southwest corner. Subject released with warning as there are no priors associated with that name’” the snow leopard read out the incident report filed ironically by the very same sheep standing off to the side, Special Agent Howard Q. Bellwether.

“Agent Bellwether, show Mister Wilde the Pit” the snow leopard smiled at Nick and the fox shivered.

That was not a good smile.