Chapter Text

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Through the soft falling snow, the city of Zootopia half shone, its skyline closed in and seeming far more subdued than usual.

Sliding fast along a stair railing, leaping clean over a road, foot tapping a car to give a little boost, the figure halted, perched atop a frosted metal bollard. Reaching to his side, pulling up a pair of modified binoculars to his eyes, his tail twitched a few times as he looked down on the buildings. Sight resting on the glow and the smoke smouldering around their base.

Sly frowned, putting away his binocucom and letting a huff out of his nostrils. The fog spun in front of him before drifting away. He'd bet a page of the Thievious Raccoonus that his return, at the paws of none other than Professor Rattigan, and what was going on in this city were more than likely linked.

Still, he had places to go.

People to see.

Racing on again, he suddenly ducked to the side, letting the shadows take him in their embrace as a police cruiser raced past, lights blaring. Emerging once more, he carried on. Fleet footed, racing on, jumps and leaps and swings. All bringing him towards the centre of the great city, rising up on a hill in front of him.

Turning a little, cane in his mouth, he jumped onto a tree and clambered up it, leaping down into a small fenced off compound. In a second, the lock to the hut in the centre was picked and in he stepped, warmth radiating out. Paws found a ladder and he slid down, down past the roar of running fans and machinery, down further. Until he finally stepped out onto the edge of a long tunnel, lit up but empty. He gave a cautious look, seeing the glint of the rails trail off in both directions. At first, no sound could be heard.

In all honesty, he shouldn't be surprised. After…

He froze, ears perking, and with a smile on his face he stepped back and waited. Waited as the distance clinking became a rattle and then a growing metal scream. Tucking himself back, muscles tensed, he waited until the train became sweeping past, clattering and scraping and roaring with the blast of wind it pulled with it.

An eye out to the side, a glance, he paused.

He ran, muscles burning as he charged forward, unhooked his cane, saw the end of the train pull past and…

He grit his teeth as his arm was nearly yanked out of his socket, upper body dragged forward before the parts above and below could catch up. For a second he was flying in the slipstream, before paws landed down on the rails and he found his balance.

What few bits of old cloth were still on him fluttered away. With a shake, some bits of sand blew off.

Egypt!

What could he say?

He smiled as he thought through it. When he got back to his pals. When he broke to them the news. When…

He paused, a worried thought coming over him. A dreadful thought. What…

A sudden shift in the train's speed pulled aside his line of thought, the raccoon tucking himself smaller and closer in as they slowed down, eventually coming to a halt. Shimmied against the side of the platform, hidden in close, there was zero chance anyone could spot him.

The announcement came for Mogul Street station, and a few seconds later a warning beep sounded and the doors were shut.

With that, they carried on, Sly keeping himself hidden down until they were back in the tunnel.

-Murray and Bentley would still be out there. That was in no doubt. But… He scratched his head, he didn't know the most of it himself. But despite his efforts, Le Paradox had still remembered the Coopers and what they'd done. So maybe…

A near trip up snapped him back to attention, the raccoon regaining his balance as on they pushed. Taiga Street next. Then Lionheart Avenue. -He was getting close. Another set of points came up, diving down to some new tunnel to the side, but they carried on. Carried on until the train slowed and pulled itself into an underground platform, kindly telling him that they were terminating here at Peak Street.

With a leap, he climbed out and up to the top of the vehicle, hunched down and cane on the roof as he kept himself clear of the overhead lines. He scuttled toward the front, only to then notice that nobody was getting off the vehicle.

And with that he slipped down, jogging along to the end of the platform and vaulting clean over the small mammal gate line.

Nobody raised a protest, nobody seemed to care.

On he went, past signs for the Zootopia Loop, the Nocturnal District high-speed lifts, the closed off hoarding for the stairs down to the new Cross-City line platforms.

Instead, he turned as soon as he saw the nearest set of stairs and ran up them, breaking into the midnight sky.

Streets empty. Waste paper and bits of debris danced in the breeze. Shutters on doors were closed off.

Binocucom to his eyes, he thought he saw someone… But no, the streets were empty. In one corner the beginnings of a barricade seemed to have been forming, but were now abandoned.

Just beyond it was the blue marker of the safehouse…

Before the binocucom died.

And so he raced on. Jumping up and sliding on the metal street railings as he traversed down from the top of the city, letting gravity take him that last little bit until…

Jumping off to the side, he hooked himself onto a fire escape and pulled himself up, racing up and then leaping onto the rooftop. And then it was easy, roof to roof, edge along the odd edge, leap a few streets…

And finally, climbing up a chimney, he saw what he was certain was the place. A look through his dead binococum, a few futile slaps and twists…

Nothing.

Instead, stepping back, he ran and leapt forwards, arms out wide, cane in one paw. He hooked on to the parapet wall, pulled down and legs absorbing the shock as he bounced to a stop on the brick cliff, the ground a dozen or so floors down below.

A pull up and over, feet skipping the gutter and instead perching on the tile roof. On either side of him were a row of windows, so he made his way to the one with some balcony-like railings added. A small clothesline was present, below the cover of the outer parapet, and taking a run up the tiles Sly dodged it and landed in front of the door.

The inside was black.

The door locked.

Something quickly rectified as in he moved, invisible in the darkness. Keeping to the cover. The lights from the windows illuminated a loft apartment. The figures of gym equipment, some kind of cage with server equipment or something inside, a drum set…

Silently, nose sniffing. Fox. Raccoon. He smirked. A fine combination.

He stepped out into the open, not even surprised when the lights flashed on. "Wow. It's me but younger and not as good looking."

The raccoon kid staring back, an unusual tan colouration, shrugged. "Looks aren't everything."

"Sure," Sly said, smirking. "And uh, you can tell your fox friend who's aiming a gun or something at me that he doesn't need to."

A slight shifting and he looked up to the rafters, a silverfox about the same age as the raccoon stepping up from a raised storage platform, letting the dart gun by his side drop down just a little. "Don't want to either," he said. "But this city's been through some real cussed up cuss lately, you follow what I'm bringing out?"

"I read ya. But more to the point, I'd block that thing in an instant." He waved his cane a bit.

"What's the online name of your turtle friend?" the raccoon asked, taking Sly by surprise.

"Uh, Panzrcrackr…"

The silverfox stashed away his dart gun and jumped down, making his way over to the server cage… Which was now revealed to be a major computer set up in the middle of a faraday cage. "I'll give them the update."

Sly nodded before pausing. "Wait, they're here?"

"In the city," the brown raccoon said.

"I…" Sly let a grin grow over his face before walking up to him. "That is good news, uh…"

"Max Thrash Wolford."

"Sly Cooper." He offered a paw, and a second later it was met.

"Uh-hu, you need a shower."

"I… -yes I do," Sly agreed, pausing to look down at himself. His fur was… VERY… unkempt. Not just from a lack of brushing, but from a lack of clipping too. Rather than the slick almost chilly covering that he usually kept it trimmed down to, it was a thick, shaggy, fluffy old mess that he could clean on sink a paw into. "You are very straight to the point."

"It's one of my best characteristics, even if lots of people don't see that for some reason."

Sly smirked. "You'd get on with Bentley."

"He doesn't like wasting people's time too?"

The older raccoon gave a chuckle, pulling it in as he saw the slight confusion on Max's face. "He likes his efficiency, apart from in giving scientific definitions. He likes to be very gratuitous there."

"Don't we all."

Sly nodded, pausing as he saw the slightly disappointed look on the raccoon kit's face. He then gave a chuckle, Max smiling a little back. "Anyway, yeah, I need a preening session. Uh, can I borrow your shower… brushes… cleaning supplies. Clippers if you got them."

"I'm not the one to ask."

He gestured over to the cage, the silverfox kit now walking out. Smiling, flashing a white and gold grin, he looked to Sly and nodded. "Knock yourself out."

"Thanks. Though I'll be in there a long while, so if you need to bathroom…" They both shook their head, the silverfox guiding Sly on. "So, this your place?"

"Yeah. Max was over for a jam session when everything turned to heck. His adoptive wolf mother was stuck trying to fix the ZNN emergency broadcast system, my one was fire-controlling some of the packmates who believed what Rattigan said about the ZPD and stuff being kit-rutters… And is probably still fire controlling at the moment."

Sly nodded, pausing as he neared the shower room. "Yeah, sound like impressive gals."

"They are," he said, a firm conviction in his voice.

"Right…" He trailed off, pausing just before closing the door. "Sorry, can you just charge this?" He handed him the binocucom, the silverfox pausing to look at it.

"Micro-USB B?"

"Yeah, I think. Anything wrong with that?"

"Don't have any chargers for it."

"Ah."

The silverfox smiled. "I mean I like the old school-ness, kind of. But if you want it charged I'll have to solder in a USB-C socket first. I'll even throw in a free charger."

"Yeah, can't say no to that."

"I can also give those clothes a very quick spin and dry."

"I…" Sly smirked. "Thanks. Genuinely." He offered a paw, which was taken. "Sly."

"Conor."

The raccoon froze, the silverfox clocking on to the awkwardness for a second or two.

"-Nice name," Sly said.

"Thanks. I chose it."

"Then you have great taste, picking one of the all time greats there." He waved a two finger salute and walked in, closing the door behind him. The shower beckoned but first, paw clenched, he shook it and nodded, barely holding in the emotion. "And I did it. I did it for us. I did it for you." He crossed his fingers, closed his eyes, said a silent few words before pulling off his clothes and pushing them out the door. Forward, he caught himself in a mirror. Fur a little bleached from years in the burning sun, grown far longer than he ever kept it himself. He frowned, he really looked like some big old plush rather than a sneak thief, didn't he? And that was before the tan dusting all over him, filth and sand and dirt embedded deep within the furs. His claws were unpolished and somewhat cracked, his tail frizzy, his teeth… -He wouldn't go so far as ask to borrow a spare toothbrush and toothpaste, but just as he was now looking forward to a shower as if it were grace from heaven, he yearned to give his teeth a vigorous, even gum bleeding, clean.

Still, that could wait. There were plenty more things he wanted and needed far more. Grabbing some fur clippers and walking forward, he started in haste, shivering as the power shower drummed down on him hard and warm. He needed to get presentable, and given how much catching up he had to do, it was going to be now or never.

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"So, how does it feel to be on the other side of the law?"

Nick smiled as he saw the awkward expression grow on the beaver's face. The rodent glanced down at the sleeping mass of polar bear whose arms he'd just been cable tying up, then at the fox cop who'd instructed him on it.

Other volunteer mammals from the cells shared the look, up until one of them, a female dik-dik, gave a snort of disgust. "Cuss it, I see what these pieces of scat were doing down there. They asked for it."

A few nods of agreement grew around the other mammals, even if some looked less impressed. "Still feels dirty," a marmot grumbled.

"Well," Nick said, looking at the mammals in their orange jail uniforms. "You've earned yourself a reprieve from your crimes. Just follow me, sit back in your cells for a little bit while we do the paperwork, and you can go free. As opposed to going free now, in which case we'll have to follow you, then you have to sit back in your cells for a long while. Which I don't think any of us want, do we?" He let his gaze linger on a sandcat standing by the edge of the roof.

He let out a hiss. "What?"

"Just saying," Nick said, pausing as he walked on towards a roof access hatch. Looking at the lock for a second he scratched his head. "Just saying."

"Hey fox, I got this." He turned to see a black furred rabbit buck, by the looks of it not even out of his teens, walk up.

"Need a lift up to the lock?"

"Cuss that, trust me," he smiled, "I got this." And then he ran back, grabbing the end of a massive sniper rifle, the barrel thicker than his own arm.

"Woah, put that down."

"-What?" he snorted. "I just risked my life. I don't get to fire the mega gun!"

"...I think it'd kill you."

The rabbit scoffed, only to yell out as the beaver pulled him away, kicking, screaming and cursing.

"I mean, it'll get the lock off," Nick said, walking over and looking down at it. "But part of me thinks it'd kill me." He gave it a look before noticing the stand on the muzzle. A flick down to raise it up, he gestured for some of the volunteers to bring him bags that the bears had left to prop up the stock, making sure to balance and aim the thing so it was pointed dead set on the lock.

Paw on the bolt, he gave it a hard yank back, almost pulling a muscle as it clicked back, a massive bullet rising up. Feet claws digging into the roof, he shoved it into the chamber, taking a second or so to re-adjust the aim before lying down to the guns side, out of the way of any recoil.

Paw around the trigger, he pulled, pulling his paw back as it flashed with pain, the gun snapping backwards with a deep, ringing bang and then bouncing up into the air. His wrist, caught in the middle of that, felt…

Fine.

Nothing broken, just…

"-See, said it would work!"

Glancing over to the door, Nick nodded. The lock was gone, smashed through by the bullet, as had the thin wall of brick at the other end of the access hatch. "Okay, stay up here, I'll get in contact with the forces below. Remember, with all this competition, you don't want to win the 'Stupid of the Year' award by throwing away the freedom you've just won. So, stay put, got it?"

They gave a grumble of agreement, Nick turning, only to pause.

"Also, no souvenirs." He set a firm gaze at the dik-dik, the small antelope huffing as she reached inside her jumpsuit and pulled out a bundle of cash.

And with that, Nick left them, wandering down the winding steps until he reached the backside of a door. Jumping up, he caught the latch and let it swing open, dropping down onto one of the catwalks high above the station hall.

Trains lay there, empty and waiting, the vast area oddly silent and calm. Jogging forward, the fox reached another set of steps and turned down them until he reached what must have been a staff break area. Some dingy looking toilets, locker rooms, a small kitchen area, the chairs knocked over and the odd meal left out, uneaten. Another door, this time with a push bar, and Nick opened it up, wedging in one of the chairs to keep it open.

And with that, he walked out onto the side of the station, pausing and wincing as he saw the sight. He'd seen the barricades before, moving into the plaza in the van. But that had been when the protests were mostly peaceful.

Now he was seeing it after everything had gone to hell.

Sure, with the mammals on the roofs gone the protestors had been able to flee, a tidal wave of bodies pushing past the vehicles and refuse, smashing it apart. But before that, those up above had done their best to make crossing it a lethal endeavour.

The fox grimaced as the rank scent of blood, fear and nighthowlers rose up around him, the ground littered by the odd dead body, or at least part of one. He tried not to look at the hulking mass of a bear lying limply in the ground, brown fur torn up by claw marks but face thankfully out of view. Only for his eyes to then glance the flattened remains of a smaller mammal right in front of him, pancaked down into something unrecognisable. Grimacing, a disgusted roil in his stomach, he moved on, trying his hardest to spare as little time as he could to each new one in his path. -Sometimes he recognised their species, sometimes not. Sometimes there was just a flat beaver tail or a long rabbit ear sticking from them to give the hint.

Moving to the front of the station, the fox winced as it got worse. Mammals had tried to flee through it, smash through the emergency shutters as if hoping that trains on the other side were running, or just thinking that making a break along the tracks would get them to safety. Dents and scratches, impact holes and torn bits of metal were mosaiced across the gates. Maybe one or two small mammals had made it to safety that way, before the bears up top had chosen to cut it off, releasing their howlers and guns.

The products of their work spilled across the ground in front of him, thankfully draining back into the gutters, carried away.

A squawk pulled him down to his radio, the fox pulling it up to his ears and speaking in. "Nick…" Judy spoke, her voice hollow and empty. "We're by the entrance to city hall, getting the mammals out."

"Meet you there. It's… It's bad."

"It's worse."

With that he walked across the empty plaza, litter and rubble scattered about, placard signs abandoned and barrels tipped over, their burning contents smoldering on the burnt grass. He eventually met the rest of the police line, heavily armoured elephants with riot shields forming a line to direct those exiting city hall around and to the back. Orders barked, other officers standing back with weapons aimed.

Nick gave a sniff, thinking he could smell Judy amidst all the stenches and heading off in that direction. A shout came from his side, then a second, a third, a flash of electricity sparked out as one of the correctional officers, a panda bear, thrust forward with an electric shock prod to push back a wolf who'd turned against the cops on the line.

"We'll get you!" he yelled. "I know what you did! We don't believe the media lies! We know the truth! Down with Bogo! Down with the ZPD!"

On he continued, voice just getting lost in the noise as Nick turned, seeing Judy standing there in front of him.

They looked at each other for a second, then another, and then fell into each other, holding themselves tight as they fell to their knees, heads burrowing into each other's shoulders. Judy shook, whimpered, tears falling down, joining with the odd silent one from Nick.

The mammals kept on moving out of city hall.

"It's got to be over," Judy whimpered.

Nick just nodded into her.

"They can't have anything more… They…"

"I don't…" Nick sighed. "Ash and his family got away, I know that. I think we've won, I think…"

"What about Rattigan," Judy sniffed, and Nick grit his teeth as he felt her claws dig in. "We're letting all of them get away, we can't let him get away. We can't! We…"

He hugged her tighter, starting to bounce her up and down, giving the odd quiet shusshhhh to calm her, like a terrified kit still fraught and scared after a nightmare.

"He has to be stopped… He has to pay, he can't go free… He… He… He can't, he…"

"I know," Nick whispered. "I know." He felt his body shaking slightly. He wished he was that kit, in his mother's of father's arms. He wished it was the kind of nightmare you could wake up from.

"-Please…"

Judy's ears rose up, pivoting as a bunch of shouts from the officers yelled out.

"-Please, he needs a doctor, he…"

More shouts, screams, pleading, and she slowly let go of Nick and looked over, a bunch of shaking in the police line up ahead. A few seconds later and it opened, two of the smaller cops forcefully dragging out an antelope of some kind by his collar, throwing him the floor and screaming at him to put him down, put his hooves on his head. Blinking, Judy saw that he'd been carrying another antelope or something similar, clutching on hard.

Stepping out and racing forward, she had a dreadful feeling in the pit of her stomach that it was her old neighbours, Bucky and Pronk.

One thankful washed away as she got closer and realised it wasn't them.

Not that it changed much. The cops practically threw him to the floor, one of them putting a foot on the small of his back and ordering the other to cuff him, even as he begged out for them to help his comrade. They just shouted at him to comply, make himself safe, then they'd look at him.

Judy raced forward, touching the mammal's head and starting to move it into a recovery position, checking his vitals, seeing what…

She froze, finger on the antelope's neck before sighing, leaning up and brushing a paw down his unfocussed blue tinged eyes. Eyelids closing shut, she turned to the cops, still restraining the other antelope, who looked on at her weakly and sadly.

She shook her head and he bowed his, just as one of the other cops finally turned. He looked at her for a second. "Dead?"

She nodded.

He sighed, looking down at the mammal beneath him and then at the police line. The flow of mammals on the other side was finally trailing off, and he pulled the antelope up, uncuffed him, and practically forced him through the lines.

As he left, Judy couldn't help but notice the red tinge on his foot-hooves. One shared by the corpse next to her.

She looked up to Nick, who looked down, grimacing. "I… I know lots poured in, before and after the real bad stuff started. I guess they thought it was a safe haven…"

"They just kept coming in," Judy sniffed, as the police line finally broke, its job done.

Slowly, silently, they walked towards the entrance of city hall, dreading what they'd see and then witnessing it in the fur and flesh. Looking up, city hall looked fine, all the higher up levels in good condition, almost no evidence of anything going on. Chances were some bats and some climbing mammals had made their way up, but apart from that…

Looking forward though, and fixing their eyes at the far end of the hall, they saw the strong security barriers leading into the restricted areas. Cracked, warped, but they had held firm. Held firm no matter how high the pressure behind had got, no matter how many more mammals had poured in and tried to smash them down to save the innocents supposedly imprisoned behind them… And then to try and save themselves as the pressure had just grown and grown.

That was where the largest piles were, but other bodies were scattered around aimlessly. And then there were the remains of smaller mammals, who hadn't found shelter or been able to climb up or had gotten lucky.

The room was silent.

"-I think that one moved…"

They turned to see Delgato racing forwards towards the limp figure of a vicuña, lifting him up for a second before turning, breathing out into his mouth to raise his chest and then pushing down. Other officers began walking about.

"Cover their heads with their shirts if they're gone," someone said, and so they did.

Boar.

Sheep.

Wolf.

Tapir.

Deer.

Lynx.

On and on, those who hadn't made it. A few other cheers came up when one had, Nick and Judy just carrying on.

They reached a pig, moving to pull up his shirt over his blue face, and then moved on.

"-How's it going?"

Nick and Judy just looked up silently at Bogo, who had walked over to meet them.

The pair just gave him a silent look in return.

"Understood," he said, voice quiet, sad, but something rumbling dark and angry beneath it all. He looked around. "The volunteers?"

"Told them to stay back on the roof," Nick said.

"Mine are in a break room," Judy added.

Bogo nodded. "We're going to have to move these. Think they're up for it?"

Judy shook her head, Nick nodding. "For nothing, nah. Maybe if you give them the chance to take whatever cash those bears had on them…"

Bogo grumbled for a second before shaking his head. "I suppose if we must. Go get them."

"Where will we put them?" Judy asked.

Bogo looked around for a second before Nick spoke. "Open up the station," he waved off. "If it takes too long, we can train them over to Tundratown."

Bogo nodded, waving them off. "You've been through more than anyone deserves today, we all have. In an ideal world, we could write ourselves off and be done with it… -I'm not even going to say we signed up for it." He let himself linger there for a second. "But it must be done. I'm sorry. Keep it up."

They nodded, slowly moving on. A slight rumble and Judy checked her phone, bringing it out. "Better text my parents, try and…"

She paused, frozen in place, starting to shake.

"Judy?"

She turned to him, running a paw through the top of her fur. "-O-O-one of my relatives, a cousin, was here…"

Nick's ears pulled back.

"Devan. Tan fur, brown spots…" She began looking around, trying to see any of the corpses to see if they were bunny sized, the right colour.

"Chances are he got out," Nick began, only for her to snap to him, nose twitching in terror.

"What if he didn't, what if…" She turned and froze, beginning to whimper at the red smudges in front of her. "What if…"

He leant down and put a paw around her. "Come on, there's nothing we…"

She snapped to him, face riven up with rage, only for it to all collapse down as she began whimpering.

"Come on," was all he could say. "Come on, let's…"

She jerked off to the side, racing over towards two bodies, shirts pulled up over their faces. Nick walked up to it and her silently, even as he knew it wasn't what Judy was looking for. Even before getting close, he recognised the paws of the neighbouring corpse as those of a feline, a lynx or a bobcat. And with the size difference, or rather similarity, the one Judy was looking at wasn't her cousin.

Wasn't the same species.

Or even the same gender.

"Sorry," she whispered, as Nick reached her and looked over the two figures.

"Don't be," was all he could say, paw around her and leading her back. "Come on, let's do our job." He turned, giving them one last glance, before…

…

"Nick?"

He slowly turned, ears pulling back as he leant down, pulling the shirt off the face of the bobcat, and the fox next to him, seeing her face for the first time.

Judy looked at her for a second, blinking, nose twitching. "Oh god. That's…"

Nick nodded. "Come on," he said, pulling the shirts back over and turning away, holding his face tight. "Oh god. I'll… I'll call Skye on the way over."

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The whirr of the fur drier died down and, a few seconds later, Sly stepped out into the bathroom. A knock on the door a few minutes ago, and Conor had dropped off his clothes. After a deep and thorough brush through what long fur he still had, the raccoon looked over them.

The difference was stunning, well muted and tanned blues and blacks now replenished in their vividity. Sure, there were plenty of small holes, nips, and bare threads. Two and a bit years certainly did do their work on them, and what repairs he could do were limited. The thick white linen threads weren't the best thing to patch up skin-tight lycra, but beggars couldn't exactly be choosers.

Pulling on his trousers, the tight inner surface gliding over his closely shorn leg fur, he gave the fake fur on the outside a ruffle before continuing on with the skin-tight blue stockings and reinforced boots. They hugged him tight, radiating the warmth back in. Then came his blue long-sleeved polo shirt, pulled on and…

He let out a warm huff, stroking the blissfully soft and delicately warm surface, his toes twitching a little and a purr rolling out his throat. In an instant he'd pulled up the soft clothing and wrapped it around his nose, the delicate organ enveloped in soft embrace and the glorious scent of fresh laundry gliding up his muzzle.

Relaxing, feeling his tail wag a little, Sly focussed himself and pushed on. Tight protective gloves were pulled up, his leg strapped carrier bag and decorative utility belt attached. Glancing in the mirror and… He froze, striking a pose and flashing a smile at the excellently groomed creature looking back at him.

A yellow neckerchief followed, tied around his collar.

His hat, something not really washable, went on his head. Still stained, it only managed to double down how cleaned up the rest of his ensemble was.

How cleaned up the rest of him was.

One last thing, one last item. In all honesty, he wouldn't have been surprised had it been forgotten and lost, but no. There it was.

A long black domino mask. He held it up over his own natural one and, with deft fingers, tied it in place, tightening the knot.

And with that he breathed in, he smiled. He was back. And with that, he opened up the door, pausing as his eyes lingered on a new figure, sitting down near the centre of the loft.

The she wolf, in her own domino mask, and her own skin-tight combat suit, gave him a one over with her eyes. "I see you're not naked around my child," she said, before offering a smile. "I don't think we're going to have any problems."

"No, not that I can see any." He looked up and down at her. Crimson and black bodysuit, well toned body, what looked like flame deployers on her palms. "So, a contact of my friends?"

"No, I came in to check in and collect my son, breaking up any lingering rioting on the path and, on getting here, heard about their visitor."

Sly nodded. "Okay, question? Do you have anything very urgent to attend to?"

"How about returning home, getting out of this suit, and visiting my husband, in hospital, where the mammals who started all this rioting put him."

"I… Yeah, very urgent," Sly said. "-What about following me to the people who caused the riot, busting them up, stealing their stuff and rescuing some civilians."

She paused. "We're going to need backup." And with that she turned, looking over to Max, the brown raccoon having just emerged with a pack of clothes. "Suit up."

He nodded, racing back into the loft.

The wolf looked at him go, turning back to the adult raccoon. "I am the Dark Flame Wolf. Officially, I do not exist." She offered a paw.

Sly took it. "Sly Cooper. Re…"

She broke off, stepping back and smiling. "I've heard a lot about you. Glad to finally meet the mammal in the fur, and the fake fur." She smiled, looking down at his fake not-wearing-leggings leggings.

Sly chuckled. "Every little helps."

"Given how I was chastising myself for the second of distraction I had over it, I can certainly agree."

They were broken off as the door opened, Max running out in… "-Is that a superhero costume?"

"Call me SuperMax!" the raccoon said. He was dressed up in a crimson and maroon bodysuit, similar to his mother, complete with a similarly shaded domino mask.

Sly chuckled, turning back to the Dark Flame Wolf. "I'm impressed. And a little jealous, he'd make a fine adopted heir. Though it seems he already is one."

"Glad to see you agree," the wolf said, pulling out a grappling hook and moving over to an open window. Max grabbed on, Sly following, only to pause.

"Hey, uh, Conor?"

The silverfox looked up from where he was, bringing out a binocucom. "Couldn't give it much of a charge, but if you take this," he handed over a small battery pack, Sly plugging it in.

"Thanks. You coming too, or…"

The fox shook his head, chuckling. "My, uh, family may have caused a bit of unintentional damage already this night, and even if the roads weren't blocked all up, I'm too far away to get there in time. Legally, at least. Besides," he gestured back to his computer. "There's a lot of stuff going on on the tech side." He smiled. "Help where you can."

"Right, right…" Sly agreed, only for Conor to pause.

"Don't take me being too sensible here for not having the guts to act." He paused, holding onto a torch and pressing a button, extending it out into a short, thick club. He tapped it against his shin, giving Sly a look.

The raccoon smirked, holding his own cane out, and eyebrow raised. "When all this is over, if you want to test your mettle…"

"Sounds like a fun way to get thrown to the floor. Count me in."

Sly nodded, tipping his cap, only to pause. "Oh, and to make sure I do come back." He reached into his ankle-pocket and pulled out a length of chain, a cracked coppery pendant on the end. "I may have snatched this from Bratty Ratty on the way out, and if it's what I think it is, I think I…" He froze, blinking, looking at it.

"-You think?"

"-Nothing," Sly said, "Nothing. I'll ask Bentley. But for now, I want to keep this away from Rattigan's grubby paws." He tossed it over, Conor catching and pocketing it. "Keep it safe, I'll be back to collect."

They nodded, parting, Sly racing up to the window. Dark Flame Wolf was there, Max holding on. "Hold tight," she said, Sly hooking his cane in and holding on as she fired her grappling hook.

It flew across the void, pulled tight, a short beep rang and then they shot out into the sky, Sly holding on as tight as he could. The wall of the next building came up to meet them, Dark Flame Wolf landing up to it and jumping up onto the roof, Sly leaping off and landing next to her.

"You don't want the lift?"

"In lieu of my glider, might ask for it," he said, scanning forward with his binocucom. Strewn cables, elevated points, ledges, pipes, rooflines, fire escapes… "But I think I can lead the way."

And with that he raced off, running straight along the ridgeline of the roof, vaulting clean over the next road and landing in a combat roll before springing off, leaping up and balancing on a TV aerial. A second to survey the scene ahead and he turned, wheeling down a fire escape before leaping off, balancing on the tip of a lamppost, leaping over to the top of a traffic light, then another, then jumping up and grabbing on to a drain pipe, cane in mouth as he climbed up and swung himself onto the next roof.

Ahead, a long road presented itself, trailing on over to the start of Tundratown, Rattigan's place beyond.

A clink sounded out next to him, a grappling hook grabbing tight. A few seconds later, Dark Flame Wolf pulled herself up next to him, Max jumping down to the side. "Impressive," she said.

"I may be interested in lessons," her sidekick added.

Sly chuckled, turning forward, only for a beep to send his ears springing up. He pulled out his Binocucom, holding it tight to his eyes hoping to see…

Conor's face appeared down in the corner, the raccoon frowning a little.

"Yeah, I got your number," the fox said. "Anyway, seems a few of my family are in the area and on the other side of the barricades. Get past them and they can get you to your rat way faster."

"Good to know."

"-Oh, and if you want any more allies, you're not far away from some other mammals in the game."

And with that he was gone, Sly looking over to where some new markers had sprung up. He stashed the Binocucom down and then raced forward in a slightly different direction. Leaping, rolling, jumping across the roofs before going down, running fast across street level. Getting closer, he could smell smoke in the air and took a running leap, hooking his cane on a fire escape ladder and pulling it down. He climbed up, soon joined by Dark Flame Wolf and SuperMax, reaching the roof and crossing to the other side.

Just as a gunshot rang out.

They looked down to see a polar bear, poking out the front of a broken open jewellery store, aiming his gun around only to shy back with a yell. An instant later an arrow rammed itself into the cases where he'd just been. Sly, binocucom up, studied it for a second. "Tranq arrow?"

"What can I say?" Dark Flame Wolf said, "Our allies have style."

Sly nodded, looking closer at the building. Bottom floor, under a bunch of housing units, so no easy drop in. By the look of other buildings around, there wasn't a back entrance either. "He's got us on a direct frontal assault. I could trick one bullet out of him, but even if he's made to reload there might be others behind." He scratched his chin for a second before studying the buildings above. Clean, smart, boring, no paw-holds. He thought for a second before smiling, bringing up the Bincocum again. A few flicks through the controls, including an attempt to register his old channel with Bentley. No such luck… Instead he moved down to 'Eifeelsogud' and clicked it, Conor coming up again. He smiled. "Yeah, shoot."

"Can you get in contact with the other guys you mentioned? I think it's time for some teamwork to make the dreamwork."

.

.

Pavil hissed. What even was this? He just wanted to bust into a dumb store, get a little for himself. Why not enjoy the Happy Times?

-And now he was being shot with a bow and arrow!

Of course, he'd asked for reinforcements, help from loyal brothers! But, no, too busy! In the end he went grovelling to his own nephew, who said he'd 'get the gang together'. But knowing his luck, pah…

A rattle from the back and he heard another grunt from the owners of the place, turning down and checking his own gun before walking forward, improvised metal shield strapped to his arm. He may only have nine bullets left, but how many arrows did they have?

He crept to the side, keeping his eyes fixed up where they were firing from. Slowly, slowly, slow… A rattle caught his attention, and he turned to see the grubby paws of a raccoon reaching up and swiping a few of the displayed trinkets. An arrow swooped down and hit him, a yell coming out and the arm spasming up and sliding down and out.

A second passed, and he had an idea. Shield up, he reached down and picked up the raccoon, pulling him in as another arrow slammed into the shield. New body shield acquired, the bear dumped him down, looking for some straps or something to…

He flinched, teeth grit in pain as he looked down to see the arrow suddenly embedded in his ankle, the raccoon rolling away at a brisk pace. "WHY YOU!" He turned, shooting where the bastard of a yenot had been, flakes of marble blasted up. Stumbling forward, already feeling dizzy, he turned, trying to see him in the shadows, amidst the display cases. Where was he, where… He felt his legs trip over each other, the world going sideways as he collapsed down towards a display case, arm out to brace him. He remained upright, just, stumbling along to the next balance point, just about managing too… His head spinning, he fell down, not sure if the raccoon melting out of the shadows was his imagination or…

.

.

Patting him on his head, Sly moved forwards, pausing as he saw what he was certain was a conflict diamond. Then again, geopolitics could change in his absence, so maybe… "Ah, what the hell," he smiled, pocketing it and then walking over to the door, knocking free the barricade and watching as two mouflon sheep emerged out, breathing a sigh of relief… Until they saw the raccoon in a stereotypical thieves get-up in front of them. Sly shrugged. "Undercover operative. You have to look the part."

He turned, only to freeze as a heavy pickup truck arrived, a bunch of arctic mammals onboard already jumping off. Led by a polar bear, the mix of predator and prey pulled out heavy wrenches, hammers, knives, running forwards ready to…

They froze as a figure leapt down in front of them, curls of flaming orange and blue twisting up from her landing site, parted as her paws came up and readied themselves in a fighting position. She didn't speak, didn't threaten, just pulled up a finger and wagged it. They had already raced back to their car, screaming, panicking, freaking the heck out and then roaring forwards as fast as they could, vanishing off into the distance.

Sly nodded his head approvingly, turning back as he heard the sheep behind him mumbling prayers under their breath, trembling where they stood. Sly just ran out, vaulted himself over the broken windowsill and grabbed his cane where it lay. "I see your reputation precedes you."

She gave a smile, pausing as she started to see the sheep regain some composure. Before any of them might think to pull out a phone, she fired her grappling hook upwards, felt it lock on, and pulled herself up, Sly catching a ride.

On the roof, they were met with a waiting Max, and three other figures. "Thanks for the not-shooting me there," the raccoon smirked, shaking the paw of the male fox. "...And yes, it is me. I'm back. Sly Cooper."

"Robin," the red fox said.

"Little John," the massive bear by his side said. "And don't take it personally. We didn't want to deal with her wrath, so…" He shrugged, a chuckle coming from Dark Flame Wolf.

"And thanks for taking out any nearby security cameras."

"Marian," the third member of the new gang introduced. "And should I take out that go-pro as well?"

Dark Flame Wolf turned to Max, Sly only then noticing the small camera he'd fixed to himself.

"Nah," the she-wolf smiled. "I think someone would really enjoy a private, personal, unrecordable, video of my latest exploits."

A bunch of chuckles grew around the group, Sly waiting for it to be over. As it turned out…

Their ears perked as the rolling sound of bike engines echoed through the streets, the group turning down to the next one over to see around ten biker wolves ready and waiting. Their leader, a snow white she-wolf, blew a two-finger whistle and gestured them down. The group started making their move, only for a voice to speak out. "-Uh, guys?"

They froze, turning to see where Max was pointing. A group of random civilians had advanced to just where they'd been, packs of computer or sports equipment on their back, their eyes already moving over to the jewellery shop. "We've got to…"

He was broken off by Robin's arm on his shoulder. "Don't worry, those are impoverished citizens, and all the shops are insured." He flashed a smile and a wink.

…

"-Also, we really want to get Rattigan, so go, go, go…"

They turned down, even as Max began to protest. "But they're stealing, they're…"

"But not for some megalomaniac this time," Little John said. "Who knows, they could be searching for food and milk for their kits. You never report someone for stealing kit milk, understand kit?"

Max frowned. "Those electricals and jewellery don't look like kits milk."

"They might be pawning them for money that could be going to buying their kits milk. That's the same thing just with extra steps, and if you see someone stealing kit's milk… -You didn't."

"I do see them." the raccoon said, crossing his paws. "-Not stealing kit's milk."

"Then consider it a protest over the terrible political environment," Robin added.

"Quite valid if you ask me," Marian chimed, as they made their way down the firescape.

"...Okay," Max said. "Then why aren't they breaking into the political offices…"

"I mean," Robin shrugged. "We'd all love that…"

"-We all just battled to stop it. All non-raccoons among us are literally the most important figures in stopping it."

Robin huffed, pausing and glancing at a laughing Sly. "By the way, the world has officially dubbed us three the new Cooper gang. Didn't ask for it, but you guys deal with it."

The grey raccoon froze, before shrugging. "Nice to meet the official tribute band."

"We're not… -If you could put out that we're the Merry Mammals, that'd make everyone happy," Robin said, turning back to Max. "And what we just stopped was an insurrection by a wannabe dictator."

"But you tacitly approve if not endorse random looting and the screwing over of innocent lives."

"Yes, but…"

"So if you're really for political change and helping the poor, wouldn't you want only stuff against the political institutions? Ergo not turning ordinary mammals into collateral damage?"

"I think you're ignoring a very important point here," Marian said, as they began jumping down onto the ground and getting over to the bikes. "It's valid and noble when mammals like us who are fighting tyranny and injustice do it, as we want to help the world and make it a better place. Those mammals though are misguided at best and psychopaths who want to hurt other people about on average. Which means no action of theirs is valid, and it needs to be opposed. Hence us taking down that polar bear."

"Oh, okay," Max said, as the group began getting on the bikes, Sly moving over to the white wolfess at the front to give her directions. "-You're hypocrites."

A trio of groans rang out, Little John facepawing. "He's seriously both-siding this."

"Right," Robin groaned, pulling his paws down his muzzle. "Let me…" They were cut off as a gunshot rang out. "-Uh, Sly?"

"Yes?"

"You did take the polar bear's gun, right?"

"No," he shrugged, "why would I…"

A second shot rang out.

"Let's just hope those Mouflon's are using it as a warning shot," Marian said.

"Or shooting those looters if they do try anything," Max agreed. "They asked for it. I'd say those shop owners are heroes. Even more if they help the other shop owners."

The three Merry Mammals turned at him, Marian shaking her head. "A few insured goods are not worth killing over!"

Little John turned to Dark Flame Wolf. "Okay, seriously… Teens are little cusses, but you need to be checking what websites he's on."

Robin nodded. "There are ones out there that wear uh… -The way he is, like a badge of pride while shooting them down the pipeline."

"-Pipeline?" Sly asked. "That sounds fun."

"Not helping," Robin said. "One, you've been out of the loop as things have gone stupid these last few years. Two, I'm just trying to make it so an impressionable young mammal doesn't become a fascistic little jerkwad. I mean, does his mother want him to grow up to be one?"

Max just looked at him. "She's training me up to be a vigilante superhero…"

"Max," she finally said, looking back. "That's just our hobby. And you three, your concern is appreciated. -As is your teaching moment."

"Thank you."

"Having him stand up for himself against mammals claiming complete moral virtue is always a handy skill," she smiled, the bikes revving up and taking off before Robin could formulate a reply.

Up front, Sly held on to the white wolf, the bike whipping along fast. They weaved an odd path, though the lines or blocked or closed off roads on each side explained why, and soon the air began to get colder. Moving up to a line of tall buildings, massive plastic panels connecting them into a wall, they hit the icy air of Tundratown and were soon tracking onward. Ten minutes, fifteen, Sly began recognising areas he'd been through on his way out. They were close, they were…

They froze as they saw the sight in front of them. A heavy dosing of snow from the machines had done its best to smother it, but the smoke and odd flames still seeped out of the collapsed roof. Some of the bikers moved off and out, finding what remained of tire tracks and paw-steps. However they went in every which-way, and no scent marked them out as containing rat or fox.

Dark Flame Wolf looked on and sighed, turning to the white wolf who'd led the pack. "Annie, my husband is seriously injured. If me and my son could get a lift to Sahara square." She nodded, gesturing over a younger looking wolf and telling him to take them on.

"There's lots of stuff still going on too," Robin began, as she nodded.

"Rainforest has the worst of it. Some of my mis-informed children amongst the reasons why. Any help would be appreciated. Same goes for you." She turned to Sly. "Conor says he'd be happy sharing his loft at least temporarily. I'm certain you're not well equipped in terms of safe-houses.

Sly nodded. "Thanks, I…" A chiming appeared down below, his ears perking up. "But I think a lift will be all I need." Slowly, paws trembling, he reached up with his Binocucom and placed it over, watching as the screen in the corner fizzled a bit.

Waiting.

Trembling.

Please.

"SSSLLLLLLLLLLLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!" His heart skipped as he heard it, mouth opening into a wide grin. "Come in! SSSLLLLLLLLLLLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY! Do you read me!?"

"-Yeah," he said, laughing and shedding a tear as the green beaky face appeared. "I read you loud and uhhh…. Very loud."

Chapter Text

Chapter 2:

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AN: Many thanks to the great artist Dai, who did a fantastic companion piece to this story. Check out his feed here: https://twitter.com/jaff96art

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.

Stepping off the bike, Sly waved his driver farewell as he took off, a spray of dirt kicked up as the wolf swung around and charged off towards the smoking haze of the Rainforest District. The raccoon couldn’t help but look at it for a second or two, a grimace in his stomach, before shaking it away. There was nothing he could do, yet.

And if there was something he could do, the mammals who could help him do it were those he wanted to see just for the sake of seeing them.

And so he turned, making his way up towards the hill he’d been directed to. At first he thought it was just a quarry or something, and then maybe a logging site. But then he began seeing the personal effects among the torn up tree. The signs of a family life. A young family's life.

Teeth baring, his eyes fixed on a picture of six foxes. Four red, two silver, three adult and three children. One of them a face he recognised. A father. A missing mammal, taken by a criminal little…

“SLY!?”

He turned up, freezing as he saw a pink hued hippo, standing at the crest of the hill. From the van next to him, a wheelchair pulled out, Bentley waving at him.

The raccoon just stared at them, before charging forwards, so fast he felt his chest begin to burn and his toes tripped over the roots and rocks on the path until finally, after too long, they launched themselves at each other. Sly jumped into Murray’s belly and was held there tight, the massive hippo spinning around with joy. “YOU MADE IT BACK! YOU MADE IT BACK! WE MISSED YOU SO MUCH! SLY… -SLY!? -SLLLLLYYYYY!!!!!?????”

In a panic he held the raccoon out at arm's length, head lolled over and legs and tail drifting in the breeze.

“SLY!!!!????”

A few murmurs and he coughed, taking in a breath of air. Then another. His eyes slowly flickered open as he looked up, whispering out. “I may have lost some tolerance for your hugs there.”

“Oooops, I… I…”

Murray placed Sly down next to Bentley, the black striped mammal shaking a little as he steadied himself on his feet, paw on the wheelchair for balance. A paw up and smile given to the hippo, he turned to the turtle next to him and grabbed his hand, holding it tight as he leant over, forehead touching forehead. “I missed you guys…”

Slowly Bentley leant forward and took the raccoon back in a hug, holding him gentle but tight. They didn’t say anything, no tears were shed but, in the end, as they parted, Bentley had one thing to say. “It’s impossible to convey how happy I am that this day finally came.”

“Me too,” Sly said, smiling. “Two and a half years of waiting…”

“Six on our end,” Bentley said back.

The raccoon nodded, chuckling. “Well, you’re still going to outlive me.”

“Only highly more likely to. Slightly less highly more likely, but…”

“-The point still stands,” they said together.

“-So how was ancient egypt?” Murray asked. “Get to fight and battle with some of your ancestors? Enjoy your time, or…”

Sly laughed, shrugging. “Oh, do I have the tales to tell. -As do you guys, I believe.”

“Many,” Bentley nodded, pausing as a group of figures walked out around them.

“Busy recruiting,” the raccoon asked, looking up at the she-wolf and skunkette emerging.

The latter just stared at him, blinking. “So… That’s the happy camper, in the sarcophagus. In the sarcophagus from the future, in the past, that’s a stasis booth. It’s him. Your friend.”

“Nah,” Murray said. “Friend is really lowballing what this mammal means to us.”

“-Indeed,” a new voice spoke, and Sly’s ears pulled back. He looked up, shivering a little, as he saw Carmelita standing there. Battle hardened, older, her face… Relief or anger, he couldn’t tell.

He just trekked up to her, silent, the pair soon nose to nose. In the background Bentley was suggesting the others return to their work, carry on, give the two some time. 

Even the wind seemed to die down, a silence filling the air as they looked into each other’s eyes. Two sets of chocolate brown irises, staring at each other after so long. 

Up her paw slowly reached, brushing the side of his cheek fur. “You look younger.”

“I am. You look more beautiful.”

“How can I ever trust you again?”

They held each other at that distance for a second or two before reaching in, muzzle brushing against muzzle, arms wrapping around backs. The two hugged tight, the cop fox’s eyes watering and silently dripping down, soon joined by those of Sly.

What could be said.

What was there not to say.

Through time and space, through heartbreak and betrayal…

“I missed you,” she said. “I dreamed of you. I imagined you by my side so many times. To cheer me on, to be there for me, annoy me, to tell me what I needed to hear.” She choked down a sob. “So I could tease you when you deserved it.”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “You’re good at tha….” He broke off, ear flicking away as Carm pulled back her sharp claws. “Uh, was…”

He winced up as he felt a firm paw slap him underneath his tail. “Naughty Coon…”

“Yeah, I figure…”

She pulled in a breath. “It’s been so long. I know why you did what you did, I still hate that you didn’t trust or tell me. It’s been too long for me to still be mad.”

“I didn’t want to cause you any pain or…”

“-You thought it’d be better if you kept up the lie. Thought your secrets would be less painful. Tccchhh… Muchachos tontos… ” She whispered, shaking her head. “ Todos iguales. ”

“Yeah, that’s the old Y chromosome for you.”

She gave a snort. “No, it’s muchachos tontos like you. I know a girl with a Y in her who’s about the opposite of that.”

“... -Well I trust she’s still just as insufferably annoying?”

Carmelita was silent for a few seconds.

He gave a wobbly smile. “Touche.”

“It’s not an excuse you know,” she chided, pulling back and placing a finger on the end of his nose. Her eyes were glistening, misted up and sad. “I… Things have changed while you’ve been gone.”

He nodded. “Penelope?”

She paused, blinking. “Escaped from prison, still missing.”

“Bentley?”

She let out a sigh. “About the same as me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

“Truly.”

“And what will you do now?”

He stood there, the wind picking up a little. His eyes flicked over to the devastation of what was once a house, a home, where a family lived. “Rattigan has one of them. Egyptologist, I thi…”

“-Linguist,” she said, looking down. “The rest are safe.”

He seemed to crumple a little, a ragged sigh of relief coming out for a second before he turned back up. “Then I’ll work to bring that family back together.”

“And what will you do then?”

He looked at her, silent for a second. A gaze cast back at the van, at the haze coming from the city behind. He looked back at her. “What do you want me to do?”

And then it was her time to crumple up a little. With a sigh. A sob. A laugh. Whatever it was, she shook her head ever so slightly before looking at him. “I suppose I was hoping you would answer that for me.”

He nodded, before slowly pulling himself into her. Mouth opening, muzzle twisting as hers did too, muzzles softly sliding over each other and gently gripping. Teeth didn’t lock and hold, tongues didn’t dance over the daggers, electricity didn’t flow. Instead they gently rocked and danced inside as chest moved against chest and tails wrapped around legs.

They pulled apart, muzzles side by side once more, holding each other tight.

“Time heals many wounds,” she whispered, patting him a little. “I suppose, we can start again.”

“Figure it out as we go along, I guess…”

“I guess…”

They leant forward, sides of their muzzles rubbing against each other for a second or two before just standing there, silent, embraced.

A few seconds or minutes or hours or so passed before, with a sad sigh, Carmelita let go, the group walking down once more. “You met Dr Karen Soren,” she began, gesturing over to the skunk.

“H-hi,” she began. “So, that sarcophagus thing. From that Clockwerk thing. How-why-what-when?”

“It’s… It’s a long story,” he shrugged, slowly pausing. “Bentley?”

“Yes?” He moved out, turning around to face him.

“Clockwerk?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. He’s still a threat.”

The raccoon wilted back, ears dropping. “I… I thought I…” He sighed, “I guess that’s the world we live in, right?”

Bentley looked at him for a second, pausing, before speaking out. “Rattigan’s trying to bring him back. In the short term, we beat him, but in the mid to long term…”

“How?”

“Horcruxes.”

“-Okay, explain…?”

“We discovered Clockwerk’s operates on a somewhat decentralised system, or at least one with emergency backups running a continuous consciousness as it were,” the turtle carried on, typing away at his computer screen. “Small items, similar to…”

“-I took that from Rattigan.”

“Have you got it now?”

Sly shook his head. “I left it with some of your thief net contacts. Max and Conor?”

The turtle looked at him, scratching his chin.

“-Uh, Max was a torch key raccoon, Conor a Silverfox. Probably know him by…”

“Eifeelsogud?” He asked, before turning and slamming his head hard onto his desk. “Oh gaaawwwdddd…”

“What? What’s…”

“-You’re picking that back up from him,” he said, turning and pointing. “If I go there, he’ll be playing Mareilion songs. I know it.”

“Uhhhh…” Sly began, before filing that tit bit away for future use. “-Right, so that’s good, right?”

“We were after that particular item for a long, long time,” Carm said. “Though thankfully, it turned out to be a dud. Soeviet scientists researching it and combating Clockwerk were able to break it over thirty years ago. It still contains his essence, but can’t as far as we’re aware regenerate him.”

“Regene…” The raccoon began, before turning to Bentley.

“Each one of them had the opportunity to pool on a reserve of energy and rebuild his prime body if destroyed,” Bentley narrated. With a few taps, a map of the world appeared, zooming in on the Svalbard islands. “Carmelita discovered the remains of such at the Bolvangar site, here.” A few more taps and a new picture came up, Carm marching over, fur on end.

“That is classified! How did you…”

“-I hardly think that needs an explanation,” he said, pointing at himself. “Uh, Sly?”

The raccoon blinked, breaking away from the sight for a second. “Yeah, yeah, just…” He turned back to it. The twisted metallic thing, like a screwed up piece of paper, yet with so much recognisable. Beak, eyes, talons.

It was him.

“Ironically,” Carm said. “It seems that Neyla’s betrayal did some great good in the world. After putting the parts together, his conscious as it was tried to gain command of it… -Only for our destruction of the body to leave him in a lurch. Not enough energy to complete the job.”

“-Unless someone provides him with such,” Bentley reminded, tapping on the keyboard. “There are a number of such items around the world that we know of.” He began working. “The one we've been chasing came from the Neildelienes site in Armyeenia.” He pressed a keyboard and it zoomed to the region in question. “Dr Silverfox, who you saw, was one of the first western archaeologists able to come in and visit the site. Hence Rattigan’s interest in him, and his attempts to coerce and then force his cooperation.”

“I guess he kitnapped him to get it,” Sly nodded.

“-No, Silverfox didn’t have it, it was picked up by the Tsar’s armies over a hundred years ago, and passed through Ratsputin to the Tsar’s relatives, to students, Clockwerk cultists and then a resistance as it were trying to take him on. After they failed, one of them, Kozlov, kept it on his person, even after the battle of Krakarov. Rattigan came to this city to take it off of him. Dr Silverfox though might have had useful knowledge, hence why he was pulled in too. Eventually kitnapping, but such unsubtle methods only came after an attempt to use his son’s false imprisonment and the potential for legal help as an area of leverage fell through.”

“Son… He… -He sent a kit to jail to get his father to help out!” Sly yelled.

“No, his son was sent to jail on false pretences in the first place. Rattigan just tried to keep him there longer and make the case against him seem more severe in able to leverage him. It would have worked too, were it not for the intervention of a rag-tag group of vigilantes just after convincing him otherwise.”

“...These wouldn’t be ‘The new Cooper Gang’, would it?”

“Annoyingly, yes. I see you’ve met them.”

The raccoon nodded. “Let’s call them the Merry Mammals for now.”

“Right, right…”

“-The son did get out, right?”

“Yes,” Bentley said with relief. “He even tried to help get the item to us, part of a distraction he convinced the Panda King and Kozlov to orchestrate.”

“-Panda King is here!” Sly yelled, voice suddenly turning up in joy. “Ha, are any of the others? Dimitri, the Guru, the…” He paused, face turning down as he saw the looks on Bentley and Murray. The hippo looked like he was about to burst into tears. He looked over to Carmelita, seeing the look on her face.

He shook his head. “No… What…”

She held him tight. “There was another group after it,” she said softly. “ELSA. Or rather, L S A. Lord Shen’s Army. A warlord, who came from the same part of China as Panda King did. He captured us all, then chose to kill us with radiation. Panda King…” She trembled. “He broke the machine, even though he knew it would kill him. -The rescue mammals came just after, and when Shen tried to stop us fleeing, Panda King… He…”

“I… I know,” Sly said, his voice a whisper.

“-He died to save us,” a new voice said, Sly turning to see a striped jackrabbit by the door, a swift fox vixen following along. “He… You should be proud of him. -Sly? Wasn’t it?”

“Yeah…” the raccoon said, voice hushed.

“Jack,” he said back, softly. “Jack Savage.”

“Skye,” the vixen added.

Sly nodded along. “Thanks… Thanks for saving my friends.” And with that he leant forward, shaking their paws. He turned back to Bentley, sitting down on his seat and resting there. Quiet for a second.

Two…

He jerked up as he felt a small cold hand over his fur, looking up to Bentley.

A much larger, warmer, hand rested down on his other side and he saw Murray there.

All as Carmelita walked to his back and rested a paw on his shoulder.

The raccoon looked between them, eventually turning forward, gripping his friend's paws just a little tighter and nodding on.

“Shen had his own talisman, part of a plan to gain two and triangulate the rest, destroying them or shooting them into space to prevent Clockwerk returning and usurping him,” Bentley said, typing along. “His originated from the mountains of New Guinea.” An area was circled on the map. “Though now it’s currently either at the bottom of the sea, or in one of the wolves fleeing the sinking craft. Jack’s handler, however much we distaste the idea of a military mammal getting involved in this, is racing down there to try and intercept it if it comes on-shore. All while I try and find out if any coastguard mammals or such nearby were compromised by LSA’s Countessa inspired brainwashing program.” He tapped the hard drive before moving on, the screen zooming into an area in northern Pakistan.

 “We believe another horcrux is located somewhere in this area, due to it being the base of the cultists that Kozlov faced off against. We’ve also gathered that another, in hindsight quite obviously, was once located near the ruins of Greater Zebrabwe. However we believe it was discovered in nineteen-oh-nine and, while being transported to the British Museum, was intercepted by Clockwerk. He attacked the ship it was on, we presume the SS Waratah, after she left Deerbun, killing those onboard and leaving it adrift to sink. The whereabouts of the talisman after that are as of yet, unknown.”

“So… We find Shen’s or the Pakistan one, join it with the one I recovered and we finish him. For good this time. No backsies, no attempts that go nowhere, we finish him,” Sly hissed.

The three looked at him, his fur on end, his claws digging into the table.

After a second or two he deflated, paws coming up and wiping down the front of his muzzle. “Sorry, I… -Sorry, just I…”

“I know,” Carmelita said.

He snapped around, glaring at her, only for it to fade after a second or two, the raccoon shaking his head. “Sorry.”

With that he slipped away. “I tried to get back there, get Rattigan, get that fox he had. Return him home, to his son. Fix that family… He’d already moved out.”

Carmelita nodded. “Tonight has been hell for this city.”

“So I gathered. I…”

He froze as he heard some panicking from outside. The others did too, Carm moving out first. Sly followed, pausing as he saw the swift fox vixen on the phone, holding it to hear desperately trying to speak into it or…

“-What do you mean!” she yelled, tears in her eyes. “I… I can’t, the line…”

A second later she threw the phone down, almost catapulting it into the ground but holding on, other paw gripped up and holding her face tight. “No… -Nonononono…”

“Skye?” Jack asked, “what…”

She turned to him. “It… It was from Nick. I couldn’t make it out, the line was just… -But I heard him say my mother… I heard him say dead… At city hall. What was she doing there!? She wasn’t tricked like them, she wasn’t…”

“We’ll check it out,” Carmelita cut in, moving forward and grabbing her paws. “Don’t worry.”

“But my mother…” she began, tears in her eyes.

“We’ll take Dr Bloom’s car back to the city centre. I’ll come with you,” she flashed her badge, turning over. Sly saw a blonde she-wolf standing there.

“-Please,” Skye said, “there must be some mistake, there must be, but the line…”

“On it,” the wolf said, pulling out her keys and blipping her vehicle. Carm turned, guiding Skye along. Frozen there for a second, she looked around fretfully before finally glancing down, seeing Jack holding her paw and starting to guide her on. Together they raced into the vehicle, Sly offering a wave to Carmelita as they got in and headed off.

With that, he returned to his two gang members, and Dr Soren. “If you have a spare glider, I could get that re-rigged and start heading out,” he said.

Murray nodded. “Yeah, we got plenty of supplies Sly. Anything else you might want?”

He paused for a second before smiling. “Right now? Toothbrush and toothpaste. And later, a whole lot of junk food.”

“On it,” he cheered, looking over to see Bentley carrying on. Searching through profiles of mammals and the odd non-mammal in the files, slowly being brainwashed. The turtle froze it as they got to a koala.

“It might interest you to know, he owned you as a curio for a number of years.”

Sly looked on, nodding. “He has good taste.”

“Need I remind you what that thing looked like on the outside.”

“He sees the inner beauty.”

“Debatable,” Bentley said, before carrying on looking through the videos.

Sly nodded. “Anything I can do to help.”

“Not right now, but… -Dr Soren?” 

“Yes?” she answered.

“Can you get Sly up to speed with the last six-seven years?”

“How up to speed do you want?”

“Core basics, big things, anything needed to stop him making any embarrassing faux paus.”

“I… Okay, I’ll do my best.”

Sly nodded, pausing though as he grabbed the toothbrush and toothpaste from Murray, handing over his bag so his parasail could be re-attached. They stepped out together, Sly pausing as he once more took in the sight of the ruined house.

“Kit getting framed for murder or something, then this, then his father getting kitnapped…” He grit his teeth a little. “Rattigan’s gonna regret this.”

He squeezed out the tube and pulled the brush up to his mouth, starting to vigorously brush it down.

“I know,” Dr Soren noted. “-Though it wasn’t framed for murder. Nighthowlers were found in his school locker, a ‘prank’ by another student and not even originally aimed at him as it turned out, which was then pounced on by a DA with a bone to pick. He used a loophole in the Nighthowler act to screw him over.”

“ Ni-owler? ” Sly mumbled through his sudding up mouth. “ Wha tha… Wools? ”

The skunk looked at him for a second before shrugging. “Okay, that makes as best a place to start as any.”

.

.

.

.

Flashing her badge for the however-many-th time, Carm gave a gesture to Clara for the car to move on, finally arriving in Watering Hole Plaza.

The great screen had been turned off, she guessed for respect. After the chaos and celebration of the riot before, it was now dead, empty, a miasma of death filling up her nose.

The figures of policemammals standing around, or crouched, holding themselves, were interspersed by the trash and scorch marks and listless bodies scattered around like thrown corn. She paused as she saw a beaver in a prison uniform curled up, shivering, crying into himself. A massive rhino cop stood by him.

Looking down, the vixen saw that he’d dropped what looked like a cafeteria tray or something, only it was being used to carry…

She turned away and gagged, hoping that the thing she saw would burn itself out of her memory soon enough. Pulling to a stop and getting out, she saw that it wouldn’t be the case. There were tens, hundreds, thousands of little red splatters or marks. Blood from wounds or chunks of flesh, or the wreckage of small mammals caught in the chaos.

You always saw a few here, there, but…

She was cut off by the sound of mammals hurling, Skye and Clara bent down and emptying their stomachs. She couldn’t blame them. She’d had years to get used to the stench of blood, but this…

It got worse as they and Jack began to move forward, trying to jump or dodge the stained markings, only to find the stairs up to city hall painted.

“Up here,” Carmelita said softly, guiding them up and around a garden area.

A skunkette in an orange prison uniform walked out, grim and uneasy, another tray with a mangled something of a something on top.

They averted their eyes as they walked in, Carmelita flashing her badge to the dead-eyed cop and entering the main hall.

“-Wait…”

They turned around, the bear cop said. “Nick and Judy said you might…”

They nodded as he sighed. “They’re… They’re over in that corner.” His eyes turned down to Skye. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Carmelita couldn’t help but look at the swift fox vixen, shaking like a baby’s rattle, fur on end and ears peeled back. Jack held on to her tight, looking more scared than he ever had during his rescue of them or the battle at the ruins of the tree.

She and Clara moved next to her, paws out, and guided her forward.

Step.

After step.

After step.

She, and the bobcat next to her, were covered in sheets, but things were visible. Brown paws below, a sandy tail, mottled grey on top with a black tip. Just like the vixen’s.

Her head tilted a bit and she stood there, Carm walking on and over. “Is it…”

“Go ahead,” she whispered.

And Carmelita did, pulling the sheet back. Still, silent, a dead face looked out. Tired, worn, hurt and with fraying fur, all pulled up into an expression of subdued shock or terror or even, and Carm wasn’t sure here, pleading? As if in the crush she’d been begging for someone or something to come down and rescue her, or just release some of the pressure so she could suck in a lungful of air, quench the growing burning in her chest, stay the black fringes in her vision.

Her face was restless, not someone who’d come to accept what was coming and taking it peacefully. Instead she’d been concreted in place, seeing the express train come from miles away, and being unable to stop it. 

The red fox vixen bent down and looked at the face, Skye’s face reflecting so much in it, and saw the small wet tear tracks from the corner of her eyes. “I’m…”

There was a giggle.

Carm froze, turning over to Skye.

The younger version of the fox she saw down below gave another giggle, then a short laugh, her paws up and tight around her muzzle, her eyes started to glisten. And then the giggles turned into soft sobs and she fell to her knees, pulling Jack into a tight hug and starting to pet him.

He didn’t object.

He just let her stroke him tight as she half cried, half laughed, shaking her head.

“I… Is it not…” Clara began, Skye shaking her head.

She pulled in a long sniff, glancing at the dead vixen and then looking back at the wolf. “She’s… She gave birth to me.”

Clara looked at her for a second before kneeling down. “But she’s not your mother,” she said back.

Skye nodded in agreement. “I… Nick grew up around her and knew who she was, so I guess… I guess he guessed… -Guessed I wanted to know.” A small laugh burst out of her. “Stupid fox, stupid phone line, that’s… that’s the most scared I’ve… Joint most scared,” she corrected, looking down at Jack. She pulled him in tight. “Don’t worry, I was scared for you too.”

“T-thanks,” he said. “Do you want to talk about it or?”

She gave one glance back at the dead vixen. “I… No. No, I’m good.”

“Are you sure?” Carmelita asked.

Skye’s tailed flared out, her voice kept a tense level in comparison. “I’m good,” she said, slowly getting up. She looked at the vixen, eyes fixed. “Alice…” She paused. “Mum, I… -It is what it is, I guess.” And with that she turned, walking away. Carmelita pulled the cloth back over Alice Fawke’s face, letting the mammal rest in peace. She gave a glance to the figure of the bobcat next to her, before joining the others on the way out.

They exited city hall in silence, the grim cleanup still carrying on. “I…” Clara paused, looking uncomfortable. Finally though she huffed, looking over to one of the cops. “Do you need any help?”

He nodded, the she-wolf silently joining him in pulling more corpses over to the train station for storage, sorting, removal. The remaining three slowly made their way towards Precinct One, pausing when a familiar voice called across.

“Guys?”

They turned to see Nick, jogging across. “It… You okay Skye?”

She nodded. “Yeah,” she answered softly. “You gave me a real fright there.”

His head tilted. 

“The line was messed up, I didn’t hear the word bio in front of…”

“Oh god… I’m…”

“Don’t worry.”

“Skye…”

“Shhh…” She held him tight. “Thank you. I… I appreciate the sentiment, or whatever.”

He nodded. “You good.”

“Yeah.”

“You sure…”

She gave a short harumph, but pulled it back. “Yeah, I…” She shrugged. “Not gonna like having to answer that one over and over.”

Nick looked at her before nodding.

A few seconds later and Jack spoke up. “Where’s Judy?” 

Nick’s ears immediately fell back. “She… She got the news that one of her cousins or something made his way down here and is somewhere… The family couldn’t get in contact with him so…”

“Oh god,” Carm said, paw over muzzle. 

Nick nodded, leading them on.

“-Couldn’t… Couldn’t he have got out, just lost his phone, or the line’s are too busy,” the interpol fox began.

Nick glanced back. “I tried telling her that… Trouble is she’s not a dumb bunny.”

They nodded in agreement, moving on.

“-I… -She said herself, she only met him once. When we were at Bunnyburrow, but…” Nick shook his head. “Bunny families or something, doesn’t matter she only met him once, doesn’t matter he was into this conspiracy stuff even back then and she had to kinda warn him but… -But… But bunny families, man… Bunny families…” He wiped at his eyes. “So she’s just running herself ragged, after everything, just trying to find a clue or a hint or… Or any part of him left or…”

He was cut off as Carmelita came up, a paw on his shoulders.

“I… If she keeps going, I…”

“We’ll be there for her when she’s ready for us,” the red vixen said.

They’d been walking through more of the devastation, more dodges and detours made until they finally found her. Stalking from bits to pieces, eyes glazed over and dead as she looked at each one. Seeing if it might have a bit of bunny in it. Her paws, hand and foot, were stained red. Flies, already starting to congregate around some of the piles, were on them.

“Judy…” Nick began, the bunny turning up to him. Her gaze settled on Skye. 

“Are… Are you…”

She nodded. “Didn’t care for her, but thanks for letting me know.”

“I’m… I’m sorry,” the bunny said, turning back to her work. The other mammals grimaced as she leant down to an unrecognisable mass on the floor, bits of fur here or there sticking out. She pushed her paw in, pulling out the stained form of a wallet. A look in and she placed it back on top, the drivers licence for a hyrax on display, moving on once more.

Studying a pile.

Shaking her head, moving on.

Studying a pile.

Shaking her head and moving on.

Studying a pile, reaching in and…

“-Judy,” Carm said softly, the bunny snapping to her, glaring mad with her teeth bared and on display. Angry, huffing, she calmed down after a second or two before wiping her brow, not even caring about what kind of filth she got over her face and turning down, leaning in and carrying on with her task.

Moving to another pile.

“It’ll take days,” Jack began.

“-We don’t have days,” Judy said back, choking down a sob. “Eight O’clock tomorrow, unless something changes, they’ll be getting in the street sweepers… Disinfectant, for all the small bits left, I…” She threw her paws out, painting spots on the ground and scattering the flies around her before they congregated back on. “I…” She sobbed. “I get it, but… -I can’t let me cousin end up like that. I can’t! He… What’s left of him needs to go back to the burrow, what’s left of him…”

Nick walked up and held her tight, wincing as the blood staining on her coated up his police blues but holding firm. She choked up a sob, nustling her head into his chest. He wrapped his tail around her, rocking the bunny ever so softly. Ever so gently.

“-I…” She began. “I can’t, I… -It’s not fair, I… I might have already seen him! I might have… -Might have not recognised or… -But I’ve got to try. I’ve got to try…”

Closing his eyes, Nick nodded.

All as Skye walked up to a figure on the ground, looking in, sniffing, turning away and wincing. “Not… Not a bunny,” she said, moving on.

Judy, slowly untucking herself, weakly looked on as Skye, a look of pure revulsion on her muzzle, reached in and pulled out the phone of another. The screen came to life, a fennec fox flashed on screen. This time Nick shivered. It wasn’t Finn, that guy was too smart to end up in this…

But might be unlucky enough to get caught in the crossfire.

He set the thought aside as Skye left the phone on his body and walked on.

“-Skye,” Judy began, the queasy looking vixen turning to her.

“We can help sort those who… Who have a chance to be recognised. So they can be taken in, right? So that the families will have something…”

“-And if we spot any bunnies…” Carmelita began, Nick walking forward. Jack too.

Judy turned between them, increasingly frantic. “No, no, this isn’t your…”

“-As long as it’s yours,” Nick said, “it’s ours.” He sighed, walking on to his grim task. “When you’re done. We’re done.”

Judy winced up. “I… I hate you guys.”

And with that she moved on. The mammals together slowly making their way through the plaza.

.

.

.

“They’ve informed Nick and Judy about you,” Bentley said.

Sly, coming back in, nodded. “Was it eventful or…” He trailed off, eyes lingering on Murray.

“They’ve got it bad Sly. Real bad out there, the vixen who thought she lost her mother… It’s complicated, but okay. But Judy Hopps, you know…”

He nodded.

“-Right, a cousin or something was in the riot, they can’t find him. Hundreds died from a crowd crush or trampling…”

Sly shivered, almost falling to his knees.

“They’ve been scouring, trying to find something of him, but… But…”

The raccoon looked up, his face hardening. “And Rattigan did all this as a distraction. Tricking these mammals like this, so what… To pick up gold and goods, and bits to try and bring Clockwerk back. Because he thinks he can take him over. Because he’s that arrogant.” His paw gripped his face. “I… I tried to get Rattigan with my cane, I got the necklace but he slipped out.” His paw slammed into the side of the van. “I could have ended this. I could have told that little species confused egomaniac exactly what I thought of him, then thrown him in a cage and taken him to the ZPD in person.”

“-While I agree with your sentiments,” Bentley said. “We all know that Rattigan isn’t one to listen.”

“Don’t care. I’d have worked in as many insults in there as I could.”

The others nodded, Bentley pausing as he brought out his phone. Dialling in, after a few seconds… 

.

.

A good way south, next to a car whose engine was still warm, Lt Vixen pulled up her phone. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be happy.” Looking forward, her eyes lingered over the beach in front of her. Debris was washed up, along with large numbers of wolves. Those injured or weak were kept together, too few guards keeping an eye on them. Plenty others, with time to get on lifeboats or try something, had made it ashore and got into the woods.

Every now and again a boat or helicopter would fly in and drop off more, from the bulk freighter that had suffered a catastrophic ammonia nitrate explosion. At least, that was the cover story. She was thankful most had landed south of the Zootopian border, USA territory so no issue with getting them locked away tight and secure.

But plenty couldn’t be found. 

Her eyes looked back to the small fishing boat making its way back out. Whatever a Lundisk registered vessel had been doing out here, it had been first on the scene and done its best to carry mammals back to shore. Not that it could do much, given that its crew had been one tiny mink. While he’d wanted to keep it to those most injured or without flotation devices, he’d had to get some able bodied survivors on to haul those unable to on as well. Some had stayed on on each trip, but one had fled as soon as he could.

One that sounded very much like the description of Shen’s main lieutenant.

He’d jumped ship, ran into the forest, and so far dodged any sweeps or hunts. She’d managed to push a few of the local cops into hunting for him, or any other forest flee-er, rather than just those at the beaches, but she didn’t hold much hope.

He was out there ad from what she heard he still had the Talisman he’d had earlier.

And to add insult to injury, her commanders had noted an aircraft of some kind flying in even before he made landfall. Not long later, it flew out again, fast. Beyond their vision. Gone.

Sure, it might be a coincidence or a mis-reading, but she felt it in her gut and relayed it to her questionable allies.

Whatever his intentions were, whatever his other resources or goals may be, he was beyond their reach for now.

.

.

Bentley put down his phone and sighed, rubbing his brow. “That was our best shot.”

“You… You still have others,” Sly said, muzzle flashing up a little. “We’ll always have Pakistan.”

“We’ll see,” Bentley said. “What most disturbs me is who might he be working for.”

“-Well maybe he’s now head honcho of LSA?” Murray suggested. “Only now it’s, uh… Lupine Supreme’s Army?”

“Maybe, though I don’t think they’re much of an army now,” the turtle grumbled. “But he could be selling that thing to a rogue government or something, which I’d rate as almost as bad as Rattigan having it.”

“-Didn’t…” Karen Soren began, the skunk leaning in slightly. “-Didn’t he give himself some brainwashing, that would stop him?”

“Give the boss an outcome that meets his objectives,” Bentley murmured. “Though now that he is the boss… -Or he’s working for another.”

“Maybe he lied about it,” Murray cut in. “Or faked it.”

“-Logically the most realistic answer,” the turtle agreed, “but there’s the track record to prove he underwent it. Again, with that very flexible wording, so it might have been going after something the boss wanted but he wanted to.”

“-But that would still involve the destruction of Clockwerk, right?” Sly asked.

“Or the rendering of him unable to be brought back and challenge Shen,” Bentley countered, “there’s a lot of flexibility there for the taking. And it did a good enough job of getting his boss to trust him, he’s done it for years. Look there, there, there, on and on and…” He froze.

“Uh Bentley?” Murray began.

Sly looked at the hippo, then down at the turtle. His mouth was agape, part wobbling, and slowly his hand moved forward and mouse clicked on a file entry before Sly could read it.

A video flickered on to life, static at first, but then revealing the chair, set up to hold a small mammal while being processed. A very small mammal.

Sly’s eyes went back, a look of horror on his face. “Oh god. Bentley, I’m sorry…” He sniffed in, wiping his eye before leaning down, paw on his friend's arm. “I am so, so, sorry…”

He didn’t react. He just stared ahead, a fragile female voice speaking out. “Please… I want to go…”

“-Nah, you don’t. You want to pool all your skills with that fine Le Paradox fella, don’t you? Help him take down that legendary crew hogging all your glory.”

“No,” she spoke back. “I… They’re my friends. Sly, Murray, Bentley! I’ll never betray them, never. -And they’ll come and rescue me, Bentley will hack this ship to dust, Sly and Murray come in and make a big speech and spectacle and whack your butt… They’ll rescue me, they’ll rescue me. I know they will.”

A slow chuckle escaped from the wolf, operating the machine. “Ah, cute. -By the way, Miss Penelope, you seem to really like Bentley, right?”

The faint humming sound in the background began to increase.

“I love him, I…” Penelope closed her eyes, the mouse wincing away. She looked awful, blue dungerees and yellow sweater stained and damaged, her fur dishevelled and uncleaned, her whiskers grown out and bags under her eyes. She strained against her restraints, eyes shut.

“Ah, but you’d help Le Paradox, for him right…”

“No, I… Hurting them would hurt him…”

The humming got louder, the mouse shaking and pulling. “You know, the way you say it, he’s the main guy among that crew, the real whizz…”

“He’ll find you…” She squeaked.

“Odd though, isn’t it, that it’s called The Cooper Gang…”

“They joined them! We all did, we…”

“Underappreciated…”

A tiny squeak came out, the beating of the machine turning up and up and up.

“Isn’t that right, underappreciated, under valued, outshone. I could make him the legend he deserves. No, you could! Pull him into the spotlight, the master hacker, world famous. Above the Cooper Gang, so far above even famous hackers like The Druid everyone will forget him. You can get Bentley what he deserves…”

“-What he deserves is…” She cried a little.

“You can do it…”

A broken sob escaped her.

“Work with Le Paradox, you can free him… “

She began screaming as the machine pulsed and pulsed and pulsed…

“He’ll be so grateful. You’ll come back together and…

“-No, no, please, no that’s wrong! He is mistreated, he… -That’s wrong - it! He deserves better, but…”

The machine began to scream, she began to scream, the wolf...

…

It went dead, the video turned off. Sly’s paw was on the mouse. His gaze rested on the date on the file, just a few months after she vanished.

Shaking, he turned down to Bentley. He was just still. Looking at the screen, as if it’d been the medusa.

“I… I…” Sly wiped his paw with a muzzle. “I’m sorry, I… I don’t know if it’s good or bad or…”

Finally, he turned to him. “She fought,” he said, his voice cracking. “She fought so hard. But I… It was me… It was me that…”

“No…”

And then he broke out a sob, leaning forward. Sly, in their youth, had seen him panic countless times. Seen him fumble, or get frustrated and have a tear-filled meltdown, or his voice go quiet and disbelieving. 

He had never seen him cry though.

Until now.

The turtle threw himself forward, a wretched wail coming from his mouth as Sly and Murray ran forward, holding him tight. Cradling him. Saying it was okay, saying he’d be okay, the raccoon channelled everything they’d done for himself during his night terrors and flashbacks of that one terrible, terrible, night on his eighth birthday and repaying it in kind. Repaying it to his wailing, shaking, distraught friend.

“We’ll find her,” he said softly, tears falling from his own eyes. “We’ll clear her name, and make it right. I promise. I promise… I promise Bentley, I promise…”

.

.

.

Carmelita stepped out of the showers with Judy. 

Dead on their feet, the vixen only mildly noted a slight envy that the bunny had a spare change of clothes in her locker.

Carm, in contrast, had her regular get up in a sealed bag, ready for a deep clean. Clothing was so scarce, she’d gone as far as donning a spare prison uniform, for lack of anything else. Something that Jack had resorted to as well. Skye had put on her clothes again, despite how soiled they were. She felt it was more dignified.

Besides, Carm had her badge to flash if anyone questioned her and Jack… Well Jack was certain he would manage.

Nick met them, tired as ever, dressed back in the suit that Lord Shen’s lieutenant had dressed him in. Amidst the smells coming in and lingering around, the faint whiff of sewage was unnoticeable.

They sat down together, tired, broken.

Finally Carm looked at Judy. “I’m sorry.”

“-D-don’t be…” she muttered, shaking her head. “We… Lot’s of mammals will have something now, it doesn’t matter if… It doesn’t…”

She was pulled by Nick into his newly exposed chest floof, the fox opening the path and guiding her head in. It rested there, and she began sobbing, the fox holding her close and gently rocking her broken, tired form.

A new figure emerged, the group looking up to see Dr Clara Bloom. She’d gone back to the natural history museum to pick up some spare clothes, the wolfess looking down at them. “I can take you home,” she said quietly, “if you want.”

“Muchos Gracias Doctor Bloom,” Carmelita said, glancing over at Jack and Skye. “The civilians especially. I think Miss Skye would want to see her mother very much.”

She nodded, a tear dripping from her eyes.

“C-come on,” the wolf said, her own voice on edge.

Jack and Skye got up, walking over. 

“You two?”

Nick looked at her. “Debrief with the Chief,” he said. “We’ll get a cruiser…”

Clara nodded, pausing. “I’m… I’m really not a fan of cops, so… -Well, you’ve earned this.” She pulled up her arm into a wobbling salute, before leading off with Jack and Skye.

Nick, Carm and even Judy managed a goodbye.

Quiet filled over the area for a bit, Carmelita pulling out her phone and dialling a number. “Do we have any update about… Damn. That’s bad, I… Is everything okay, Sly?” Nick looked on as her face almost broke down with whatever she was hearing, tears beginning to trickle out. “Tell him I’m sorry too. And… And once this is done, we will rescue her. Okay, I… -Can you put him on?”

A moment passed, and she was crying some more, spilling out more apologies and more promises to make it right.

In the end though it calmed down. “Is… Is Sly still in there?”

A moment passed.

“I… If the answer is no, you might want to…”

“-Understood,” she said. “When he’s ready.”

A few seconds passed before she nodded, turning off the phone and slipping it down.

Finally, Nick spoke. “So, Sly mentioned how he got into that thing yet? How he obviously battled or stole something from our Clockwerk guy and…”

“-No,” she said. “All we know is that it seems, at first, he thought he’d killed him back whenever it was, only he failed… He’s been through a lot, so we’re not going to press this. They’ve all been through a lot. -They’ve just learnt that Bentley’s former lover, who betrayed them leading to Sly’s disappearance… She didn’t do it willingly. Shen & Co were hired to brainwash her, that’s why she did it…”

Nick’s ears went back. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“I am too,” Carmelita agreed. “I am too.”

They were largely silent after that. Nick noticed that Judy had fallen asleep in his arms. The sky was lighting up, dawn approaching.

Finally, Bogo walked in, tired, dead on his feet, broken. He looked at them. “Dismissed… -Except for you, Officer Fox. I… I had a call from your superior.”

“Barkley?”

“That Badger says I need to understand what this is all about, and requested you do it.”

“-Coward…”

“Somehow,” he groaned, “I’m inclined to agree. If you want…”

“-No,” she said, hauling herself up. “Your office, now…”

Bogo nodded, the two heading up and in, closing the door behind them.

A few seconds later, Nick lay down next to it, ear to the door. At first, his phone was out to record but then, seeing Judy waking up, he put it away.

“Why are you spying on them?” she asked.

He looked back at her. “Fluff… These last twenty-four hours, I’ve handled who knows how many corpses… Directed a bunch of prisoners in a rooftop drone attack…” He paused, looking up as the door opened, Bogo and Carmelita staring down. “I’ve fought off a massive mob attacking the ZPD, crawled through sewers, escaped a sinking ship, escaped a radiation chamber, escaped who knows how many firefights, been kitnapped, learnt… -Well what Bogo is about to learn, had family friends kidnapped, feared for my mothers life, nearly been trampled by an elephant I once tried to buy a jumbopop from, been in a car crash, narrowly avoided being thermited, been dressed up while unconscious by a one-eyed wolf, told a friend her mother was killed in a crowd crush and had to break up a fight between two mother-cussin’ squirrels.” Shaking, he stood up, walking in. “And now the Chief is going to learn something stupid and infuriating, and if I have any hope of surviving… I’m required to witness his reaction to it…” He collapsed to his knees, looking up at the Cape Buffalo, prostrate and broken, paws and claws clutching back into himself. “I need this…”

Bogo glared at them before sighing, pulling out a chair and lifting them up to sit together, the two limply watching on with dull reddened eyes as Carmelita sat Chief Bogo down and began explaining everything.

Chapter Text

.

.

"Chief Bogo, would you say that there were not other methods in which you could have approached said mammals and the supposed warrant for your arrest?"

Looking up, the cape buffalo nodded. "Indeed, there likely were. But I was under a high stress environment. Need I remind you that I was reacting off of three officers under my supervision being kitnapped, and a brutal chemical attack on a large number of others."

"But," one of the councillors, a shrew from one of the Little Rodentia wards, began. He steeled his fingers, looking up at the chief, Bogo glaring hard in return. It didn't matter that Big was locked away, his empire wilted and gone, its shadow still remained and those under his wing still had their animosity to their enemies. "Wasn't it at least an hour after those events took place that you were met with this warrant?"

"Fake warrant," a different councillor, a red panda from the Old Growth City neighbourhood of the Rainforest District corrected.

"I have seen it, it looks real to me," he countered.

"As you can probably guess, we were still in the damage control phase," Bogo said sternly. "As for the warrant looking real, I could most assuredly know that it was fake…"

"-How?" the shrew pressed. "By that argument, any mammal on the street could question the ones they're served with. Rules for the little guys but not the big mammals, huh?"

"Well, Councillor…" Bogo peered through his glasses, narrowing his eyes and over-studying his nametag for a second. "-Piccola," he said, seeing the wince up of the shrew's face as he made a tactical letter change to the end of his name. "If you were to be served this afternoon with a Z-45, would you immediately go about packing your desk up and moving out?"

"Don't be absurd," he scoffed, "It's completely different, I'm an…"

"-I think the point my colleague is trying to make," a new voice cut in. Jackal, well dressed despite the cheaper clothes. Started out as a chef in the palm hotel, made his way up to chief union steward of their's, and eventually the cities, caterers union. An inspiring story, were it not for the fact he'd been aided and took orders direct from the Sahara Square mob all the while. "Is that your combative reaction, though understandable, was unprofessional and set out a bad image."

"-Tell me, Mr Kabakarn, do you act all of the time as if your computer has been hacked, and is recording every action you are doing in order to use it to inspire a city wide uprising?"

He smiled. "On the recording issue, I was a union mammal, was I not?" He played a level gaze at the Chief, the cape buffalo rolling his eyes. "And also one who understands he is in a position of influence, one where seeming to break the law, even if he is in the know that the charges are false, is of serious issue. Should you not have gone with the officers? Should you not have played the game, on principle, and thus been able to defend yourself in a court of law."

"And let some of my officers die?"

"Chief Bogo…"

"How was I to know that that was not the master plan," he pressed back. "We've known that something was up for a long while, but it was always too random, too isolated, too small in its conception to gain much of a response. And in the end, when all their dominoes were in order and set off, we were left vastly overexposed. It could have been anything."

"May I point something out?" All eyes turned to the wallaby in question, who carried on. "Their modus operandi, as it were, was not to cause a rebellion." A round of protests and rebuttals came out, the marsupial raising a paw. "Well lemme finish, kai!" It quietened down, and on he carried. "Anyway, their whole end goal was to get the ZPD so distracted, they could loot the city dry. Sure, they used the rebellion for those purposes, but ask yourself this mammals? Would a city police force, already reeling from massive events and now with a leader arrested as a kit diddler been just as effective?"

A few seconds passed, before the shrew from before spoke out. "No!" All eyes turned to him. "It's absurd to think of it as anything other than the lesser of all evils."

"But," the red panda councillor asked. "Would you not agree that with so much investment, so much time put into the disinformation campaign, that Rattigan and his mammals would have tried launching it regardless? He could have easily reworded it, and made it seem like the Chief had been taken down, but us, here, would now be moving on to damage control. Killing the mammals we had captured. Telling the protestors where we lived and sending the mobs out to attack us?"

The room fell quiet.

"I have a daughter," she said. "We were sheltered in our house as we heard some shouts, some stone tosses. My entire ward was struggling to keep the peace, fearing what might happen if the mobs spreading out from the Sakhin Ziggurats had reached u…"

She was cut off by the sound of paws slamming down on the desk, a jaguarundi standing up. "Those our my mammals you are slurring, you elitist…"

"ORDER!" Bogo boomed, stunning the crowd into silence. "Need I remind you, it is I that am under review here." He glared at the jaguarundi, snorting. "I'd remind you that they would have torn you apart too, were you not so vocal in being their mammal. You were pulled into those lies hook, line and sinker, and we are not judging you for it. An amnesty I stated we should conduct, to stop this tear in the fabric of the city ripping any further apart!"

The jungle cat glared at him. "You cannot blame mammals for acting on the truth they know in their hearts from years of neglect and spite, of acting on the evidence they see with your own eyes."

"I know," Bogo said, frown turning into a smile. "In fact, I am so glad we could agree on this matter. Just like you, I acted on the truth I knew in my heart, acted on the evidence I saw with my own eyes. You know, it finally feels good to see eye to eye with you."

The mammal began to hiss, only for a loud banging to cut them off. All eyes turned to the antelope in the mayor's chair, looking around at those in his presence. "Mammals, I think we've heard enough on this issue. I for one believe that, even if Bogo did not act with the spirit of the law as it were, he did nothing wrong. And whatever mistakes of hindsight he did make, they are both excusable and more than redeemed by his actions later on that night and the morning after."

"-Hundreds died!" the shrew squeaked.

"And if I had ordered my mammals to fire lethal rounds from the get-go, then it would be thousands," Bogo roared. "Two-hundred and seventeen mammals died. -That we know of. Who knows how many smaller ones got crushed when the stampedes began. But I held fort at Precinct One, I held fort as elephants tried to smash in, I held fort as mammals attacked from behind and above. I could have written each of those mammals off and unleashed our arsenal to protect my own. My own mammals. And, when it came down to the wire, when my hoof was forced, I did just that. One flying fox. One bat with a molotov in his grip, who would have torched up brave ZPD officers holding the line, who could have forced us to start firing the lethals. Tell me, all of you. Had I done that. Had the ZPD gone about shooting and killing in self defence, killing far more than the rioters ever did, declaring war on them before that video that we had no clue or hope for came out!?"

He paused, eyeing up the jaguarundi. "How would the peace process be going now, hmmm? How would convincing the citizenry that they were duped, misled, tricked, be going when their friends and family were shot down by us, the unknown terrorists with their howlers, guns and toxic gas not having to lift a single finger. It wouldn't matter how many of the records and recordings and backups we'd have shown after that, scratch 'and Murana Wolford is the Dark Flame Wolf.' From schoolpups to OAM's, they'd all be saying 'and the ZPD isn't protecting kit rutters.' For those of you who accuse me of making a scar on your city, ask yourself this? How much worse could it have been!"

His booming voice receded and, for a second, there was quiet. And then the red panda councillor clapped, the second time her paws met joined by the applause of a dozen or so other mammals, including the mayor. And then there were more, and more, soon almost the entire chamber clapping loudly. Bogo looked around at them, taking a breath in, eyes lingering down. The jackal was clapping just like the rest, the shrew keeping up appearances. Only the jungle cat was abstaining, arms folded hard in front of him.

Finally, as things quietened down, the mayor spoke. "While a slight formality, we still have to engage in the democratic process. On the issue of the vote of no confidence in Chief Bogo…" He leant down, pressing the button on the screen in front of him. A few seconds later, every other mammal had.

Finally, after a second or two's delay, the mayor looked up and smiled. "-Fails, ninety-five percent against five."

The applause rang out once more, Bogo bowing, taking it in, giving himself the moment. Before, finally, clearing his throat. "I have a lot to say right now, but too much work to do it. If you will excuse me, I have a Precinct to run."

And with that he left, letting himself smile from the applause. It carried him with a new-found wind as he exited the debating chamber, only to frown a little as he entered the main foyer, slipping through the controlled gates.

On the other side, they'd done their best to clean up what had happened. Five days later, it still stank of antiseptic, just like the ZPD. Many of the wolves said they could still smell the lingering scent of blood beneath. The stone tiles were cracked in places, some areas coned off. In others there were scratches and stubborn browned stains still lingering on, however resolute the repeated attempts at cleaning them had been.

Much of the same could be said for the city plaza outside, though unlike inside city hall the more obvious damage still lingered. The trees and garden ripped up, scorch marks still present on the plaza surface, the odd car still left abandoned in the watering hole.

He stepped past one of the street-sweepers, still trying to polish out the evidence, eyes glancing up to the main station.

Still closed.

The last body had been moved out two days prior, and the hope was that the clean up from the impromptu morgue would be done in time to reopen tomorrow.

Finally, climbing up the steps to Precinct One, he opened the door and was assaulted by applause. Cheerings, howls, yells, foot stamping and paw clapping and all sorts else.

He let himself smile, just a little, as his fellow officers parted, leading him to the impromptu front desk. Made of wooden crates and spare tables, Clawhauser stood up and saluted him, Bogo leaning down and taking the microphone. A tap to make sure it was transmitting across the building and the force began to quieten down. "ALL RIGHT!"

He was taken aback as they cheered louder than before.

"What can I say?" Clawhauser chuckled. "It's kinda your catchphrase."

He rolled his eyes, his grin growing. "Settle down…" They did the opposite. "Settle down." Slowly they did, the room finally going quiet as Chief Bogo pulled out some notes.

"'Even though I walk through the valley of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me'." He gave a shrug. "I am not the most religious mammal, but that felt appropriate. We have all travelled through the valley of death. We have all seen our enemy. 'They are legion, for they are many'." He looked out on his mammals, then gestured out the door. "We faced many that night. And what is worse is that they thought they were doing the right thing. You can say they were stupid, dumb, evil, idiots, I don't care. Because there's another famous psalm I would like to quote, only it isn't an actual psalm. And it is about us, it is about those who were out there, and it is about them. And what our duty is now. 'Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers! And you will know that we are the ZPD when we lay our justice upon you!'"

The crowd erupted into cheers, chants, calls out, a vigour greater than there had ever been. Bogo watched on, waiting for a lull, and carried on.

"To those outside those shutters, those weak enough to be misled and tricked, in here was the valley of darkness, but we shepherded them through. We shepherd them through!"

Another tidal wave of applause.

"And I know that amongst you, all of you, the fear of that night still lingers. Don't you dare deny it. Don't you dare deny that you go home to your house and cry, or can't concentrate as you fill in the paperwork. Don't you dare say you weren't tainted by the hell that was cast down on the city that night. And don't shoulder this alone. We are the ZPD, strong together! And now that, according to our intel, Padriach Rattigan has turned on his allies, has failed to gain what he most needed, for all his apparent success is still vulnerable… We're going to get that rat. We're going to bring him in, and we are going to give this city the justice it deserves!"

The cheers roared once again.

"NOW SHUT UP AND GET BACK TO WORK!"

That only increased it. Go, figure. Bogo just let them have it, placing the microphone down and pausing as he saw Clawhauser giving him a firm crisp salute. He nodded, making his way back up to the office.

They had a lot of work to do, and the sooner the better.

Mammals to capture. Mammals to rescue. Mammals to comfort.

And, when he finally got the chance to meet Chief Barkley of Interpol in person… -Mammals to yell at so hard he'd burst their eardrums, or so help him Murana Wolford was the Dark Flame Wolf.

Indeed, he couldn't help but remember his international subordinates explanation of this complete stupidity once again.

.

"So, anyway… As Officers Wilde and Hopps have already learnt, I was not sent here solely to assist with apprehending Rattigan."

"-Sir, I assure you, I DID give the Rattigan case my all, especially when it turned out he was interwoven with this all."

"Yes… -Naturally. And I will say that there was at least one moment where, had I insisted on my priorities rather than deferring to Officer Hopps, we could have resolved a major issue far, far earlier, I…"

"-No, I am not passing the buck! And I respected my fellow Officer's choice, didn't I Officer Hopps?"

"Judy…?"

"¿Por favor?"

"At least say something!"

"-Fine, fine, back to the matter at paw. -I was first called to Zootopia after one of our web scanners detected an academic article discussing some unusual alloys in an archaeological find. There are dangerous compounds, techniques, arts of the scientific and supernatura…"

"-Sí, the supernatural. Not linked to this case. I advise you accept that we're spilling a lot of things we covered up for the greater goo…"

"Just imagine what any tin-pot dictator would do if they learnt they could use the bodies of their victims as a zombie army! Or the legal ramifications if we revealed that there's verifiable proof that souls can persist after death."

"I don't care if you don't believe in ghost stories, you're not in one now. Now, back on topic..."

"Right, automated alarm, classing this as a top, 'fiendish', priority. A fitting name, given this compound's connection to the former leader of the Fiendish Five gang. Clockwerk."

"It was used in his constructs, machines, supplies for his allies. Linked to him and him only. -We had no clue what this alarm was, a bit of scrap or a superweapon, so, using the cover of assisting with the Rattigan case I arrived in Zootopia and investigated the Museum of Natural History. The item, a large gaudy sarcophagus thing, was in the research annex after being donated by an anonymous source, some new unusual properties discovered. I arranged a transfer to a Parisian museum Interpol partners with, securing it from anyone who might intentionally or unintentionally trigger it. After that, I was free to assist on the Rattigan case."

"Yes! It was reasonable, glad you could agree."

"It relates to Rattigan as we soon learned the sarcophagus was previously owned by a certain koala who… -Yes, the MIA theatre owner who returned brainwashed."

"Yes. Brainwashed."

"Good, you're getting the hang of it."

"Did I ask you to enjoy it? Anyway, he'd been auctioning it to raise funds, some mammals linked to Rattigan putting in a very high early bid. They'd have won it were it not for that anonymous donor, in truth an independent vigilante working against Rattigan's group, gazumping them and convincing the auctioneer to close it then and there."

"No, Rattigan wasn't happy to learn about that, that's why he kitnapped him and hired another group to brainwash him into being useful, a group he contacted via 'Napoleon', that pig florist who turned out to be a former cult leader who faked his death. Due to his previous political leanings, 'Napoleon' knew a pair of DPRK agents, a squirrel and a hedgehog, who in turn were able to contact this mercenary group, ELSA… -Or rather L-S-A, who supplied Rattigan with some intelligence of interest and did the koala brainwashing for him."

"-Ah, well given that we now know Rattigan's plan was to kick off city wide riots as a distraction, he had the koala brainwashed to make it seem like he was based in some of those poor neighbourhoods. Get the ZPD to charge in, stoke up the anger, more sparks to the tinderbox. Though in reality the mercenaries brainwashed him to serve their own ends… -Anyway, I had learnt that Rattigan was interested in acquiring Clockwerk tech as part of his plan. Both that, and a certain small metal talisman that Kozlov… -Yes, that one, wore as a necklace. -Even giving it to Officer Hopps for safekeeping while he travelled to Ewekraine."

"Yes and no, while we hadn't seen one like it before, past experience at a site in Bolvangar, Svalbard, led us to believe something like it existed. Hence our pursuit to try and get Kozlov and his talisman to safety, especially with both Rattigan and the wolf mercenary group hunting it for their own reasons."

"Who Clockwerk is… -I suppose it's best to start from the beginning. My job at interpol began when the young thief, Sly Cooper, arrived on the scene after running away from his orphanage at around sixteen-seventeen… -The Cooper's were a legendary thieving lineage. Outlaws, spies, pirates. Connor Cooper was murdered with his wife, but what Interpol didn't pay attention to was his son. -We could have intervened then and there but, well, I suppose Sly was just some raccoon kit in the care system until he made his intention to follow the family's legacy clear. As I pursued him, I strove to learn more about him. What happened to his family, the training he received… Making a key dossier, pinning his family's murder on the Fiendish Five, an infamous outlaw group of whom we had notable information on four members…"

"-Indeed. A few mentions, the odd whispers, you almost felt Clockwerk by the voids he created rather than his own presence. Regardless, these crooks all deserved to be taken down, even more than Cooper, though I confess I had a… Tunnel vision as it were. Especially after he broke into Interpol headquarters, stole that dossier, and…"

"-YESSSS… -I fried the entire carpool with my… -Do you want to hear this or not?"

"You want to… -d'abord Emily à Paris, puis ça. -Why am I not…"

"You ACTUALLY like… -It's not funny Wilde! I… Urghhh…."

"I pursued Sly through each of his attacks on the Fiendish Five, sometimes halfway to one location before hearing reports of him at a different one. Sometimes battling him in person. Every time cleaning up after. -Until the final round, China. After that, one left, location unknown. However, we found similar technology both there and in Haiti. Supplied by the fifth member. -And while the Cooper's had a tech genius on their team, we had a team of genius techs and, when we learnt that the materials could only come from one of the most utterly remote corners of the world, we could hire a jet and sweep our team there far ahead of him. I had intended to apprehend the fifth member, then lie in wait for Cooper. As it turned out, I was the one to be apprehended."

"-Running theme!? -It's NOT… Stop laughing Wilde! Yesterday was…"

"-You started it!"

"Judy, Judy wait, I'm -OW! -Look he's still laugh… -OW!"

"Conejita Loca… -Regardless, I was used as bait for Sly, who Clockwerk then gassed. Were it not for their hacker, Bentley, shutting it off he'd have succeeded."

"-I, I suppose it was. Maybe they just don't have good poison gas over in the Russian far east. Either way, we busted out, agreeing on a brief truce. Take down Clockwerk, Sly gets a ten second head start. Our attacks had destabilised a lot of his infrastructure, Sly raced to recover my jetpack…

"-If you want one, take it up with your politicians, not me!"

"I don't care if Wilde nags you, you're the Chief of Police. Get one for…"

"I can see he's doing it already!"

"You're the one in charge of him! What am I supposed to do, tell him to go to the naughty corner?"

"-Judy, if he keeps it up, stick him over your knee or something I…"

"-Yes, I can see what I've just done. Urghhhh… -Anyway, Sly retrieved my jetpack, Clockwerk finally making himself known, revealing why he killed Sly's parents and left him alive. -He wished to prove that the Cooper thieving legacy was nothing more than the book they recorded their exploits and techniques in. Remove that, they were nothing. So we fought, my shock pistol disabling his outer armour letting Sly break it apart with the jet pack's missiles. Three times, Clockwerk crashed down into the lava lake…"

"-Yes, at the Krakarov volcano, Kamyaktcha, Russia."

"...'Decent style' is one way of putting it, Sir. Either way, after breaking apart his face and leaving him for ruin, Sly escaped once more, our pursuit continuing. A year or two later, we learnt that scrappers had retrieved what was left, not realising just what it was and putting it on display in a museum in Cairo. With my new assistant, Neyla, we learnt that the Cooper gang had found out and intended to destroy them. Both of us arrived only to find that a new group, the Klaww gang, had beat us to it. Stealing the remains and using the varying parts as tools in their own machinery. The game set off once more, only in this case it turned out that the Klaww Gang had theirs in Interpol too. Neyla, who betrayed me, and one of our key scientists, The Countessa, to whom I would be an intended victim of her 'rehabilitation scheme.'"

"Yes, that's the one. Hypnotic suggestion, brain reformatting. We thought we could cure crime… -Of course, our critics were right. If you can convince a career criminal to respect the law, you can convince a freedom loving activist to love El-Presidente. If you can forcibly recalibrate a sex offender's desires to the straight and narrow, you can do the same to a homosexual. Etcetera etcetera… -We saw the upsides, blinded ourselves to the down, until they bit us in the tail. More than once, seeing as L-S-A got hold of their own version of it. Either way, on we went, until we met the last member of the Klaww Gang. A sentient bird with a wing defect, he'd intended to use Clockwerk's body as his own, only for Neyla to betray him and steal his place. Taking over the machinery, far weaker than before but still formidable, we took it down once again, Bentley receiving a grievous injury in the process."

"I, no, the plans aren't still out there. What plans?"

"Oh no, Clockwerk wasn't someone wearing a mech suit or anything, though he might have started…"

"-He was a twelve foot tall millenia old robo owl sustained on a diet of pure hatred for the Cooper family."

…

"Just… 'Right?'"

.

"You're taking that better than I thought."

"Pi… -Not on me right now, but it did happen. I promise."

"It DID happen, I DO have pics, I… -Ask Barkley!"

…

"Fine, let me…"

…

"Hello? Barkley? I… -Do YOU know what time it is HERE?"

…

"No you're not."

.

"I KNOW it's lunch time over… -I don't care about union regulations, I need pics of Clockwerk."

…

"Yes. To show Bogo. Right."

…

"Let me just…"

…

"Here."

…

"Sir are you… -Cover my ea…."

…

"OKAY, GUESS YOU NEEDED… -WHAT? ¿QUÉ? I need some time to…"

…

"Okay, I might have permanent hearing damage after tonight, but I can go on. Anyway, during the battle with 'Clock-La.' -What? Again please? Urghhh, Yes, we called it that Wilde. We believe that Clockwerk's consciousness tried to return and take over. We destroyed it before it could. Some time after Rattigan, pursued by Basil and Dave on an air-cruise, visited the newly reopened Krakarov volcano. A massive cover up had been orchestrated, but Rattigan began learning about the truth. What was there, the power it could hold. Meanwhile, a former member of Connor Cooper's gang tried to break into the family vault. I pursued Cooper there in time for him to retrieve a serious head injury. Tests showed he was suffering from amnesia, so I suggested a proposal to Barkley. Use him."

"Sí. The Cooper line, Sly especially, had a legendary status among the criminal underworld."

"-I suppose, though maybe with fewer pencils. Either way, a mammal of such skill and infamy on our side…"

"-Honestly, I don't know how long it took for him to remember everything, though I don't think it was long. Back to his old ways though? Years, only then when his paw was forced. Elements of his family history were vanishing, and gathering material for a time travel device…"

"YES! I KNOW! And we are NOT! Doing! Time travel! We've got high powered roaming computer viruses out there searching for and eliminating ANY potential research into it, it's just too dangerous. And I should know. Sly ended up lost in history. The Cooper gang retained one last device, so if they found signs they could jump back and recover him, but…"

"Thankfully, no. -I mentioned Svalbard before, and this is when it comes up. During the scoping work for the High-Latitude-Space-Telescope, some investigations were made to the caves at the proposed site. -A site with a grim reputation, the translation is 'The Fields of Evil'. We soon found out why. Deep below was a semi-regenerated Clockwerk body. We believe he'd started rebuilding right after Krakarov, only to switch, transfering his power into Clock-La when the opportunity presented itself. -In doing so though overextended and, once defeated, was left without enough energy to return."

"Bring him back and take over the body, yes."

"I'm certain he could bring him back. I want to slap him for thinking he could take control."

"Exactly. I suspected it, Rattigan suspected it, those wolf mercenaries suspected it. And Kozlov confirmed it. It had been looted from a site in Armyeenia over one-hundred years ago, one that many years later Dr Silverfox investigated, hence his persecution. Taken up by the Tsar's, Ratsputin, lost when they were slaughtered in the revolution. A group of students, including Kozlov's adult brother, rediscovered it, experimented with it, his first encounter. And when isolated, Clockwerk executed them for the slight, setting Kozlov on his long path. Finding out what, why, learning about the shadow and puppet strings that Clockwerk pulled over the regime, playing the shadow game back. Kozlov… He did terrible things… And brilliant things. In a game he couldn't know was so rigged against him. He and Jorin, the one he went to visit in Ewekraine, lost. But in doing so they still managed to short out that one talisman, and produced the shock pistol tech that allowed me to destroy Clockwerk."

"If Clockwerk survived falling into the volcano, so would the talisman. This isn't Lord of the Rings."

"I mean, there are a lot of similarities…"

"-I, did it try and possess her Wilde?"

"Pffffff, haha, you deserved that, -wait, Ju… OW!"

"Your Chief is the one laughing hardest here, you're not hitting him, are you?"

"-I suppose he is. -You violent Hoppetses."

"Ouch! I don't know what Folkein saw in your species. -Urgh, regardless. Yes, forced at first, Kozlov kept it on him all this time. Until Rattigan and the mercs both realised what it was. We were all after it."

"Not quite. Shen, the leader of the mercenaries, had no intention of reviving Clockwerk. He'd been scavenging his tech, his materials, and wanted to ensure that the real deal could never return. Thankfully, we were rescued by an army group who'd also been pursuing them all this time…"

"-She did not 'hand it to me in a fight'."

"Judy, Nick, I… -I can't get you a jetpack!"

"Right. They were destroyed, we returned thinking we'd won, only for Rattigan to deploy… Well, all this. In doing so, he looted both the real talisman, -we'd done a swap, and the sarcophagus. Only to find that the talisman was busted, and the sarcophagus thing…"

"-Well… -You remember how Sly got lost in time?"

"-He hasn't explained yet, but we're going to give him some time. But he did get the talisman back. We learnt a few other personal things."

"Honestly, I don't think the law is set up to deal with this kind of thing."

"Okay, maybe I do like him! And sure, if you can get a lawyer to find something within the statute of limitations, charge him. But right now, Rattigan won't be taking no for an answer. Even after devastating the city like this, all as a distraction for looting, he'll be after Clockwerk tech. We need everyone we can to stop him. We need every bit of help, every resource, every tool, every scrap of knowledge, experience and cunning we can get."

"YES I'LL ASK FOR A JETPACK!"

Bogo huffed. He did not sign up for ANY of this. No time travelling super thieves, no immortal robo owls, no species confused rats with delusions of grandeur. But like the chaos of that night, it didn't matter if they hadn't signed up for it, they were the only ones there to deal with it.

And deal with it they would.

And for once, he and Wilde were in complete agreement.

Barkley better deliver, because both of them wanted a jetpack.

.

The white lights flashed past the exterior of the train cabin as they raced along, Nick sitting up tight on his seat, tail wrapped around his legs. Closing his eyes, breathing out, he opened them again to see the mammals up and around him jostling with the movement, holding onto the hand-grips hanging from the ceiling, bumping into each other one way and then the other, a Gnuton's cradle flashing white and black, white and black, and then a collage of reds, purples, yellows, blues.

A second passed and it went back to normal, the tunnel resuming outside and the mammals all swinging forward as the train began to slow. An announcement came and Nick slid off his seat, small rucksack clutched tight to his chest as he dove through the forest of legs, he and other smaller mammals making their way towards the door.

With a jolt they stopped, his leg going out to keep him up straight, and then, with a hiss, the door in front opened. He walked with the current, stepping out onto the platform and making his way along, paw in front of paw, pushing through those already trying to push on, towering above him or squeezing down and below. He felt limbs crash down nearby and a flood of movement down to his right, almost leaping in front of him to get demolished.

Ears back he made his way over to one side, stopping, starting, weaving, backtracking, through the streams until he suddenly found himself in the calm water. A bin to one side, a bench to the other, the station wall behind, the turbulent current in front of him carrying on as the train doors closed and with a few shrill notes it carried on forward.

The mass of moving mammals died down, gaps opening up on the platform, and the fox moved on. Walking, just walking, freely and easily. Towards the exit tunnel, towards the signs pointing the way. Towards the gateline, he tapped through. Towards escalators moving up.

He went to the right.

He reached the top of the ones going down and hopped on, standing there as he was carried down through the dark rock, and then beyond.

The roof of the escalator became a plastic canopy, the staircase reaching out and down into the void of the nocturnal district, a blackness filling the great space beyond, oil-painted with the glows of neon. Rock hewn homes and hanging buildings, clinging from the cliffs like swallow nests or built into the support columns and stalactites, lights on and bats flying in and out reached down beyond him, slowly tapering to nothing as he left them by, and the structures on the ground began rising up, soon towering above him. Tight labyrinths of building-block apartments, stacked up high, and into the ravines between them he descended, past lit up living rooms and apartment kitchens spilling out steam and shouts.

Finally reaching the ground level he stepped out onto the chill of the stone pavement, bumped along by those behind them and joining the chaos of the street level. Shouts and calls in half a dozen languages he couldn't understand, mammals walking along the paths with boxes of goods and produce stacked on their head, he swerved one way to dodge a capybara woman with three stacked boxes of pineapple on her head before swerving out of the flow going the other way, squeezing back to the other side as a hippo, taking up almost the entire street, came along the path.

Nick had to hop inside a small noodle bar to let him past, the two or three ferret-badgers taking up all the customer seating nudging over and saying a few things he couldn't understand. And with that, he left, pushing on. Past practically a new stairway up to the flats above or tiny shop unit with each step, past chatting groups of bats hanging from the webs of wires strewn between the tight alleys that made up the main streets, joining a trio of otaku skunkettes huddling in an alcove as an electric cargo tuk-tuk driven by a striped bunny raced past.

Nick gave him a double take, for a moment thinking it was one of Jack's species, before remembering that the hare was far larger than…

He was jostled to the side as one of the skunks squeezed past him, fur to pink, purple and bubble-gum blue highlighted fur, no different than if he was the fourth member of their thick, fluted tag-spotted jacket clad posse. She didn't say anything, not that the others could hear with the pink head-cones on their ears leaking out techno music but, even if their eyes were glued on the brightly lit smartphones in their paws, they got the message, moving out as one.

-He let the skunkettes move out past him, the fox joining along. Breath in, the cold wet air filling his lungs, breath out. Check his phone. A left here, move this way… Behind and above him a loud clatter rang out, a subway train racing out on a bridge spanning a gap between two cliff-mounted tunnel portals, cutting behind the buildings and rock formations as it crossed the void.

Nick shook his head, just carry on forward. A few more minutes and he entered a large square, cafe seating spilling out from the towering walls into a tight rock hewn plaza, a shallow pool in the middle. A cluster of stalagmites grew up from the centre, a paw desperately trying to reach out and hold on to its partner hanging down from the roof, water dripping between the two like tears.

He checked his phone again. Left. Further in. Further down. The stones felt colder, wetter, and he saw that the pool emptied into a fast flowing stream, covered by latticed metal grilles. Following it ahead, he saw the street straighten out and widen, any relief he felt cut out as he saw that it turned into a staircase taking him and others down. The roof of the cave, complete with hanging stalactites and buildings, fell down faster, the tops of the buildings coming down soon scraping, then touching, then merging with those rising up, the mesh of structures becoming a bared jaw and then a solid wall, just a needle's eye near the base leading to the other side.

The fox stood at the top, looking at it, gritting his teeth and pondering whether to check his phone for a different route through.

A fluffle of small grey and black striped bunnies chatting away in something he couldn't understand pulled him along and he joined them. Paw finding the railing in the centre, holding on tight as he began making his way down the steps, splatters of water from the now cascading stream misting his leg. More mammals on either side, smaller and delicate and larger and shaking, looming over him like the climbing buildings, tightening down. More bright lights, shining, overwhelming, fast buzzing and more screams and touts from salesmammals and the flutters of bats flying about and chirping as the slope got steeper, the steps wetter, steam and misting wafting from shops and blocking his view, the mammals closer and everything at one angle or another, off balance and tipping over. Tightening, clawing around his muzzle, the roof getting in lower and lower and the mammals around him tighter, closer, a badger burst out of a cell-like grocers cave to tout hs goods, a basket of a dozen or so coral-like fungi of different branching shapes and colours, pushing mammals closer into the centre and tighter and tighter and tigh…

The floor jolted upwards as he ran onto the level, caught with the flow, rock hewn ceiling, walls and floors in all directions, the odd glow of a shop or two only just visible, wedged in far away. Water cascaded down around them, the paths splitting to move past spluttering waterfalls falling out of neon blue or red or yellow lit shafts, filled with the fluttering and calls of bats, the water splashing down into carved stone fountains before descending on further with the fox.

Yet on he went, on they carried, even as it seemed they were falling again, the rocks coming in, the pressure growing and growing as he began squeezing forward, squeezing out, popping through like a seed squeezed out of a crushed fruit. Pushing through small mammals oblivious to the danger or big mammals looming like icebergs ready to crush, through the noise and the screens and the blood and the blued out…

Suddenly it was gone, Nick slamming into a metal rail and breathing out a long burst of air, sucking another in. Out, in, out, in, out… He felt his knees buckle and he fell down, the top of his head sliding against the glass and knees hitting the polished stone floor. His eyes watched as the flowing streams of water fell off the cliff and cascaded down and down, dripping and falling until they vanished into the great icy pool that filled the heart of the district beyond.

His eyes slowly rose.

Up ahead was the black vastness of the great central cavern, the nexus of the nocturnal district, walls and ceilings lit up by a soft pale blue glow. Scattered around like berries or flowers were more islands of neatly ordered white light or water-stained neon, on the walls, floor and ceiling. All orbited around the lake, a massive island in its centre rising up, tapering, then spreading out again as it rose up to meet the ceiling, from base to top lit up like a sun for the rest of the district to orbit. In front of him, in the air and on the paths, roads and shore, countless bats and countless mammals mingled. Free, open, space for them to breath, be alive, be safe.

Be safe.

He felt tears flowing from his eyes and turned, leaning back against the glass, panting in and out as he watched mammals come in and out of the tunnel passages in front of him, walking into the open maw beneath the glowing neon sign. 'Nhỏ Hang Con thỏong'.

To Nick, it might as well have read, 'March into your doom.'

But they didn't care. They just went in and out, in and out, minding their everyday. Foolishly walking in, inexplicably walking out.

As if there was no risk.

As if they didn't know what had happened at City Hall.

As if they didn't care…

…

"Mẹ. Cáo có sao không?"

He looked up to see one of the striped bunnies looking at him. Just a kit. Just a tiny, delicate, helpless kit. A single step. A single wrong step and…

"Mẹ. Cáo có sao không?"

He blinked. The little boy looked concerned, worried… Nick tried to say something, only to freeze… His mouth was muzzled shut. He couldn't speak. What was the point, he couldn't, he…

The bunny kit stopped, pointed, his mother, a bowl of hot steaming soup in her paws, freezing in place and looking at him for a second. Her nose twitched and she pulled him on. "Đừng nhìn anh ấy."

"Mẹ…"

"Tôi nói di chuyển!" She yanked him hard, dragging him along, his feet barely able to keep up."

"Mẹ…"

"Bạn có muốn gặp rắc rối không!?" She scolded, as she pulled him to her side. He gave one last look behind him at Nick, the fox shivering up into a ball, tail tucked around him, head and welded-shut muzzle hidden behind shaking paws.

"Mẹ. Là con cáo đi man rợ?"

She didn't answer. They just moved on, lost in a crowd, the fox left there ignored, invisible…

Good…

Good…

That was right.

That was the better way…

That…

He froze as he saw another group of large mammals exit the cave, phones in paw. Raising them up they immediately began walking towards him, towards the glass, towards the view beyond. He looked behind at the glass barrier and froze, a shriek of terror running through him as they turned into impenetrable security barriers at the end of the line.

Feet jerking to attention he raced on, making sure he was safe, away from others, keeping to the open safe areas as he walked down.

Space…

Emptiness.

Mammals around him walked along the wide terraces, taking their time, bats in the air flew wide apart, wheeling and using the space freely.

No fear.

Nothing closing in.

The fox eyed them enviously as he walked on, not even sure this was the direction he was meant to be going.

In the end his eyes caught a small set of waterfalls that he'd remembered as a landmark and he tacked his course to it. Finally reaching a new, smaller, neighbourhood. Different mammals. Different languages in the air. In front of him widely spaced stone-built houses were laid out on the lake-shore, neat little chain fences marking out their moss and mushroom gardens. He looked over to see a pair of european badgers outside a small cafe by a little quay, drinking coffee and smoking. One of them glanced to him, then the other, snorting. "Se ena Lisica."

His companion nodded, the two raising their paws and giving a short hello.

Closing his eyes, forcing it out, Nick just about managed to squeak out a "-Hi," as he carried on.

"-Hey," one of them called out. "You okay fox?"

He froze where he was, looking back. Finally, with a small smile, he shrugged. "Cuss no."

The pair of badgers looked at each other, one of them gesturing down to the water. Long, pale amphibian creatures were swimming about inside. "The olm do not bite you know."

"Seriously," the other began. "You need doctor."

"Therapist," he said, "And trust me, I'll be speed dialling her after this." The two sat down but kept a close, close eye on him.

He rubbed his face and moved on, walking through the streets until he reached a house like any other. Maybe with higher fences around it. Much higher fences. But that was okay.

That was okay.

He knocked on the front gate, waiting a few seconds before a tough looking peccary opened the door, hoof out. Nick showed his badge, got a nod, and was waved in.

A hoof on his shoulder held him in place. "-You can use my bathroom to clean up. Don't wanna scare them anymore, ya know?"

He managed a thankyou before being led along, slipping into the cramped little washroom and managing to get a look at himself in the mirror. The badgers had been underreacting. He looked like total cuss.

Five minutes, ten, he'd managed to brush his fur back down and felt… Better.

Not good, but better. He quietly spoke a few different sentences under his breath, making sure it still worked, working out of whatever the cuss all that had been.

Finally, he felt ready, slipping out and sitting down, thanking the boar and saying he was okay. He walked off, a few minutes later nodding and showing him the way on. He'd barely made it around the corner when he saw them and managed a smile. "Hey Mr…" He made a spitting noise and motion on the ground, Ash smiling back in response, nodding his head.

"Thanks for coming."

"No problem."

"Yes it was," the younger fox remarked. In an instant, his mother, kit in paw, frowned.

"Ash, aren't you too old to be having this issue with stating the obvious?"

"Yes, but I'm not going to have both him and Kris just sitting around not talking about their issues for the next hour."

Next to him, Kris frowned, ears going back and eyes glaring at his older cousin, only to get a shrug in response. Felicity began to speak, only for a paw from Nick to hold her off. "Don't worry…"

"Mr Wilde…"

"-Don't worry," he said again, turning down to the older two kits and sighing. "Yeah, I… Remember me mentioning how when I was a kit I was so scared for a bit I couldn't speak?"

"It happened again," Kris guessed.

"Yeah, first time in decades," the red fox said, throwing up his paws.

"Given some of the things you've been through," Felicity began, "I'd say it's hardly surprising. Please, come, sit down, let me treat you to what meagre supplies they allow us here."

That they did, Nick siding up to Kris. "How's it your end?" The young platinum furred fox looked up at him but didn't speak, seemingly not sure what to say. He looked okay, the only sign of the fraught escape from their old home being the cracked and chipped claws on his hand paws. But Nick was pretty sure he was hiding the turmoil inside of him, he'd certainly be were the roles reversed. In the end, he worked out an answer.

"As you'd expect."

"We're back on our feet now," Nick said, putting a paw on his shoulder. "And I promise. The ZPD is very mad, we have some classified allies who I've heard are more than a match for Rattigan and, however bad it may look, we think that jerkwad suffered a major loss. We're going to hunt him down. We're going to get your father back. I promise."

Kris gave a shallow nod. "Thanks," he said, voice trailing off.

Nick nodded, feeling like he wanted to say more but with no clue what he could do that he hadn't already. Instead, they hung there in the very same silent awkwardness that Ash had tried to avoid, only for them to be thankfully saved by the bell.

They all looked up at the fox ringing it.

"-I told you I'd get this to work," Mr Fox smiled, giving it a few more rings, Rowan's eyes lighting up and the kit giggling, clapping his paws in excitement.

Mrs Fox nodded and swiftly diverted her route, placing the kit down into a small fold-out play pen in the corner of the room, a kiss on his disappointed little face. Nick just pulled a goof face, waving at the little one before turning over to look at Mr Fox, the wounded todd making his way over and carefully sitting down on a well padded cushion.

"-It still hurts," Ash said, walking past.

"And that about sums it up," Mr Fox said, turning to Nick.

"-Physically and emotionally."

"-And I would like to state the emotional part is from the annoying regiment of pills I'm now on seeing as I lost a supposedly important tail mounted gland," Mr Fox announced. Nick nodded. He knew that Skye's father was on the same regiment after his violet gland had been cut out, tumour and all, though even if his tail had lost all rigidity and dragged along the floor ever since, he still had it. "As for losing the tail itself, my sense of vulpinitiy is strong enough to endure without it."

"Cuss yeah," Ash said, ignoring his mother scolding him for such language in front of the baby. "My father has an official bad-ass war wound he received battling a literal mass terrorist."

Mr Fox smiled. "That helps too! -Anyway," he turned to Nick, legs crossing only for him to wince, taking it just a bit slower as he got comfy. Felicity walked over, coming up close to him and holding him around the shoulders. "Any news on when we can bring the fight to the assigned rat at birth behind all this?"

Nick sighed. "No news yet, but I promise…"

"-That when you know where he is…"

"-Will we call in a mass ZPD strike force of only the best trained police troops at our disposal to strike him down, rescue your brother in-law, and allow you to be let out of witness protection? Yes, yes we will."

Mr Fox looked at him for a second or two before smiling. "Indeed, that was all I ever wanted or desired…"

"-Apart from the revenge and grabbing the thing back from him," Ash said.

His parents turned to him.

"-What, it's true and I want to be there with him!"

"Ash…" His mother began, only to be push aside by his father, giving her a gentle look.

"Felicity, he knows it," he said. "No point denying it." And then his teeth grit up tight. "I played the good little family mammal staying out of this, letting the ZPD do its part, and look where it got us. Homeless, imprisoned, wounded, hurt, -emotionally and physically. Rattigan robbed my nephew of his father, he tore apart our house, he shot off my tail, and I'm supposed to just sit here and wait? I'm very sorry if I don't like that."

Nick slowly nodded. "Yeah, I get you. I do, but…"

"-But what?"

"-Don't play into his game," Nick said. "-Don't… Remember those videos from Happytown? The ones that probably saved the city from tearing itself apart? They struggled against the nighthowler gas and their hatred knowing it was what the rat… -Tough luck kits, I don't care. -What that rat wanted. Needed."

"And what does he need from us, now?" Mr Fox asked.

Nick was silent, thinking it over.

"-See, he has extracted all leverage out from under us and…"

"-Then do it for Will," Felicity cut in. They all paused, turning to her. For a moment, she looked like she was put upon the spot, a cervid caught in a headlight, until she spoke again, all the more resolved. "My brother-in-law is a strong mammal. You can be assured of that. He would not help Rattigan whatever the case would be, unless it was us at risk. We're his weakness Freddy. And as long as we stay safe, out of the way, he can't use it to make William do what he wants. Us staying safe keeps William safe."

"-Yes, that, that exactly," Nick agreed, clicking his fingers. "He might have been able to hustle him for a little with your tail, but by now he'll have worked out that Rattigan doesn't have you. We need to keep it that way."

Mr Fox looked on, fists slowly clenching and unclenching, before a paw around his shoulder seemed to comfort him. "Please, if Kris, for all he's been through, can stay strong and calm through this, so can you."

He looked back at her.

"Please, for me…"

And with that he sighed, nodding. "If we're his weakness, then you are mine…"

"I try to be," she smiled.

They leaned into each other, Nick turning to the kits expecting to see a pair of grossed out expressions. Instead, from Ash, it was merely a slight eye roll of exasperation. As for Kris…

"You wanna talk?"

He looked up. "I've been thinking about losing my father again," he said, voice quiet, calm, level. "The first time, when I was by his bedside thinking he might be about to slip away, me losing him forever… And as I flew here, waiting for him to recover, knowing something might go wrong, he might tumble back down… -I knew that life, for all its wonders, can be cruel and unkind and so very fragile. Anyone can go to bed and roll the wrong set of dice and never come back. It's sad and it's cruel and it's unfair, but that's the way it is. There's no point fixing yourself on it, holding on, losing out on all else as you stare forever at the painful inevitability." He shook his head. "This wasn't a painful inevitability. A mammal stole my father from me and attacked the rest of my family, by choice. I hate him, and want to see him suffer. I want it to be at my paws, I want to go out with you and my uncle and make him suffer. I want to feel the satisfaction that comes from that, plain and simple."

Nick just looked on, nodding in sympathy. Mrs Fox swept around and tried to offer to hold him tight, but Kris just stepped to the side, shaking his head, looking even more determined. Instead, Ash nudged up to him and stared her down in silent agreement.

"Ash, Kris," Nick finally said, blowing some air. "That's… -Probably the healthiest thing I've ever heard from you. -And as a police officer, I swear, I will fight tooth and claw so you won't even have the chance to do that."

The kits looked back, Kris giving a slow nod. "Thanks.

"Same," Ash agreed.

The rest of the visit, though tense and downcast, carried on with no real issues. Nick held Rowan a lot, playing with the baby kit, while the older pair opened up a little and talked about some more normal stuff. Ash about how he was ordering a stack of new comics to burn through, Kris about how they were organising it so that Agnes could make the occasional visit. -They'd been talking on the phone, and his tail began wagging as he carried on about her. Nick gave a quick look at Ash, trying to work out how the red fox kit was taking it given the potential for bad blood. In the end he shrugged, saying it would be nice to talk to a familiar face.

In the end though, it was time to go, hugs given and promises repeated. Slipping out, Nick bumped into Kris one last time. "-You sure you're okay?"

"More realistically, I'm sure I'm not okay," he said, Nick nodding.

"Yeah, know the feeling."

"I guess, after all you went through…"

"-It's understandable," Nick finished for him, shrugging. "I… -I don't know. Thing was, a lot of stuff happened to me that night. A stupid amount. But it's the one thing I didn't experience, wasn't there for, that…" He trailed off, working his mouth over itself a little. "-Just, seeing it… At the end, what happened…" A paw moved up over the bridge of his muzzle, pulling down as he shook his head. "Ever think mammals around you are stupid, or blind, or can't see… -Yet I can't even scream out to them just how close it is to…"

A paw on his own broke him off, the fox cop looking down to a sympathetic Kris.

"Thanks, I… Phew, just a new phobia there…"

"-No," Kris said. "Phobias are irrational. After what I think you're talking about, it's anything but."

Nick's ears peeled back. "Thanks for that. Real help there bud."

"-You keep thinking about all the ways it can go wrong. Your mind running down each branch, asking, wishing, dreading. Trying to work out everything that could have been, might been. And before you know it, you're losing what might actually be." He let out a sigh, Nick nodding along.

"But your father lived, we got you out even if that serval cheated and hurt you, and you'll get your father back."

"-I, yeah," Kris was silent for a second or two. "It wasn't about that."

"What was it about."

"My mother…"

Nick's ears pulled back. "Oh, I'm sorry kit. -I know how you feel…" He shied away for a second. "My father died too, when I was young. -I don't think it was as young as you, but… -Well, I guess as the years go by, I see how it'd go like that."

"I… I always felt sad, but after getting out after that week… -It was far worse than it's ever been…"

"-Well, if you want to talk it through…"

"I was given a link to a forum recently, other kits who lost their parents. Even messaged by someone who says he's another silver fox, or rather he's actually a literal silver fox unlike me. -Talked about it too, he lost his mother too when he was really young. A little older than me. He's got more memories, but many of them were her declining. At the end of that, he had no-one." He fidgeted a little with his paws. "We both came to an agreement, you want to wish and think of all the ways it might not be true. How some miracle might occur and they come back. How things could be so much different. -You can waste away hours, days, weeks, years doing that. Or you can imagine them looking over you, seeing how far you've come, how far forward you've made it. You can spend your time looking back, or looking forward. That's what I'm trying to do. After all…" He looked back through the door to where the rest of the family were. "Even if I lose my dad now, I got them out. I got them out."

"We'll get him out too," Nick said. "I promise."

He gave the young todd a pat on the back and with that he made his way out, the boar at the gate releasing him. Bringing out his phone, Nick plotted a different route back to his home. One that'd take him far away from any of the tighter, more chaotic crowds. Not that he'd be able to avoid them for too long.

Pausing to pull out some salve and work it onto the itching welt on one of his finger pads, he brought out his phone and dialled a number. "-Hey Doc? Yeah, it's Nick, I… -That would work, yes," he sighed. "-Well, more things I saw the aftermath of… -Oh no, I was… -Yeah." He nodded slowly. "Yeah, thanks mammal brain." He gave a short chuckle. "Anyway, yeah. See you then." And with that he hung up and pocketed his phone, walking off through the great empty space.

For now, he could do with the comfort.

Chapter Text

.

.

.

“I mean, sure, they were there to ‘save the kits’...” Dr Amy Lupulelli nodded, the Binturong following along as the fox in front of her spoke, paws up in the air and waving about. “-I’m sure many of them were perfectly happy mammals with good lives, friends, kits. But that doesn’t change the fact that they were being used. Didn’t change the fact that they were the bad guys here. Doesn’t mean they weren’t causing carnage, or killing people, or killing themselves. -I… -I saw what was left in the end. I… I…”

Amy’s ears softenned, falling back against her head. “Please, take your time.”

“-No, no,” the fox breathed in and out, face hardening. “I spent that whole morning sifting through the pulp that was left when mammals stampeded to get away from the savages, or were torn apart by them. I helped to sift through what remained to try and find someone that someone dear to me thought might have been lost in all of that. -He still is you know? No-one can find him, I know she goes about hoping and thinking of ways that he might turn up again and would explain why he’s been gone all this time. Like it was all some horrible prank by a troll, or… -He was eaten. We all know it, even if we don’t like it. Ripped apart and eaten whole or trampled into a pulp to be washed away by the street cleaners and… And…”

A black paw leant forward, holding on to the pair that had been rubbing over each other, scrubbing and washing away, over and over. Dr Amy looked up sympathetically, waiting, being there…

“-I listened to some of his podcasts… He had opinions, shall we say. -It wasn’t like he was lying or making it up, what he saw was all there, albeit he painted it with a very particular filter. -And I guess maybe that’s not a bad thing, I don’t know. -But he enjoyed doing it, it was what interested him. Going on and on. Burrowing into the Truth , that was what his podcast was called or something. -Naturally he’d been pulled in by all those lies, even if he was on the pro-prey side or whatever. Not that he claimed to hate predators, but rather the ‘institution of predation’ and ‘social predation’ , be it from preds or prey… -I don’t know. But he was a mammal. I could think of him as crazy or misled, but… But after listening to him enough, not evil. Not a jerk. Not a hateful spiteful narcissistic piece of scat. -So why the cuss do I keep forgetting him, but keep thinking about her? ”

Amy began to speak only to be cut off, a tan paw to her face.

“-And don’t say it’s because she was my mother, because she wasn’t,” Skye said, paw coming up over her face and wiping it down. “When… When I first heard that ‘my mother’ had died in the City Hall crush, I was terrified. I got there and…” Her voice hitched a little. “What would she be doing there, it couldn’t, there had to be…” And then a slight smile grew on her face. “And there was. The same kind of thing Ju… -My friend, would be wanting for her cousin. It wasn’t my mother, just the trashy vixen who gave birth to me.”

The Binturong nodded. “Have you always had that opinion of her?”

“Yes.”

“So when you were twenty.”

“Yes.”

“Ten.”

“Yes.”

“Five.”

“ Yes… ”

“Three…”

“-What are you trying to get at?”

“A newborn kit or young child will love their mother by default. Do you not remember any time when…”

“-Do you want to know what my most vivid memory of my life before adoption was?”

The Binturong sat back in her chair. “Do you want to tell it?”

For a moment Skye held back, before leaning in, shrugging. “Sure,” she smirked. “I was in a cot, paws around the bars. I knew I was starving, but I knew not to call out. Calling out meant pain. Meant I was a dumb stupid baby. So I was scared to call out over the noise of the television. -Whatever. Not that I wasn’t in pain by the way. My teeth hurt, my tail hurt, all this around here stung.” She tapped around her crotch area. “It was wet, and cold, and filthy, with every move I felt the sides of the diaper I was wearing cut into my skin. I didn’t want it taken off and cleaned though, that meant pain too. I knew that at the time. Dumb toddler brain me, I was used to the filth in there and… Well, I suppose my… -Miss Fawkes wasn’t very motherly when it came to cleaning me up. Still…” She sighed, eyes glowering at the Binturong. “I knew I was hungry. I knew not to upset ‘mother’ as ‘mother’ was not to be upset. After all, even if I was a dumb girl, I should be able to find my own food, stop the pain in my belly. I guess. Anyway, after waiting so long I came up with what to me felt like a clever solution. The only thing in that empty cot I might be able to reach and eat.” 

The swift fox leant forward, a look of disgust on her face before she bolted it down, staring into the therapist's eyes. “Maybe it’s why I was the first to start sifting through the pulp. Because I still remember being so hungry, so wanting to stop the pain, and so young and stupid I stuck my paws into something even worse and…” The therapist looked on blankly as Skye mimed the action going on, hand reaching down to her crotch and scooping out. She showed no expression as the vixen took a bite and made a gagging expression… Eyes then locking on at her. “Of course, after some more hours or so I got hungry enough…” She took another bite, this time swallowing. 

The Binturong nodded. “You engaged in coprophagy. Understandable.” Skye’s muzzle rivenned up, her glare burning and fists bawling up. The therapist just leant forward. “And I can understand just how distressing that might be,” she said. “And I’m sorry.”

The swift fox seemed taken aback for a second, calming down, head tilted as the Binturong sighed. 

“In times of famine and food distress it’s far more common among numerous species, predominantly prey with less efficient digestive systems, than we’d ever like to acknowledge.” She explained. “And I’m afraid I’ve worked with enough smearers that your attempt to gross me out has no effect.”

Skye blinked, pulling back. “I… I wasn’t…”

“-How did Miss Fawkes react on finding out…”

“-Screamed at me,” Skye said blithely. “Slapped me, called me filthy, stupid, disgusting. Honestly I believe her. Don’t you, given what I did then…”

“-You don’t sound like you believe it.”

“-I think the rest of history has justified that,” she growled. 

“Were you hoping to scare me off, make me gag, vomit?” Amy asked.

“I…” Skye growled, before shrugging. “Sure, why not?”

“Why?”

“I…” Her mouth hung open.

“-You did come here to explore these issues,” Dr Amy carried along. “Yet are resistant to probing. And that’s natural. Understandable. Abuse, trauma, neglect, especially when young. The responses can be reactive or defensive. You’re trying to protect yourself here, hence trying to shoo me off or gross me out. I understand.”

“Do you, now?”

“The theory,” she shrugged. “At least.” She flashed a smile, Skye snorting.

“I guess,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes. “-Sorry, I…”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Dr Lupuleli said. “It’s a long journey, we’re pushing hard against parts of your mind that are not used to being pushed, probed, prodded. They push back.”

Skye just sat there, staring off into the corner of the room, the Binturong waiting.

Waiting.

“Popcorn?”

Skye looked at her, shaking her head. “No, I… -I guess it’s that same reason why I can’t get her out of my mind…”

The Binturong nodded. “Go on…”

“-I…” Skye gave a huff. “I just think about what a useless piece of mammalian trash she was. That’s all. My dumb mind doing a dumb thing. -I should just wait and it’ll go away.”

“And is your mind dumb for mourning her?”

“-Yes,” Skye hissed, paws out. “-And… And it’s not mourning her. It’s not even imaging what it’d be like if she was a decent person either. Imagining her caring for me or loving me, not yelling at me or leaving me alone, tired, hungry, filthy, I… -Do you know what my first memory of my actual mother was? It was me holding tight as she hugged me, said she'd be ‘looking after me’, and I was wondering what new things she’d do to me. I hugged her and kissed back and acted happy as I thought that’s what they wanted and at least I could do that and be okay… Be good. -I… I don’t even know when it changed to me not being scared of them, or knowing…” She wiped a tear away from the corner of her eye. “Or knowing that I could come to them for love, unconditional love. I just have one memory where I ran up and asked for uppies, and snuggled up into her… -And there was nothing more to it. I can’t remember when it clicked for me that that was normal. -Can’t really remember when I realised just how abnormal the rest of that was either.”

“-When does red become orange?”

“Yes, I guess, I…” She sighed. “The vixen that died that night did that to me. She’s nothing to me. She doesn’t deserve to occupy a single neuron of my headspace, but she’s still there… As if that’s her last cruel little laugh. The one time she manages to actually cuss me up for good.”

Amy nodded. “I… Understand. And, I think, I’m afraid to say there is no way to say this but you can’t just ‘make her go away’ , as long as the earth is round and the sky green that’s a fact of life.”

“Yeah, I…” Skye paused, head tilting.

The Binturong quirked an eyebrow. “Anything… The matter.”

“No, misheard… Silly,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she said, shaking her head. “Though you said the sky is green…”

“-It is.”

The vixen gave her a look. “So, you’re trying to get a rise out of me now, huh?”

“No,” she said, shrugging. “The sky is green.”

“Yeah, well I’ll keep on saying it’s blue…”

“-I mean that’s fine,” Amy continued. “Just from my cultural background and personal experience, it is green. Both our opinions are equally valid.” Skye blew a snort, Amy’s eyes narrowing. “So you’re insinuating that my perspective is less valid than yours?”

“No, I’m saying it’s wrong as…”

“You state the colour of the sky is blue and grass is green. I hold the equally valid notion that the sky is green and grass is blue.”

“Listen,” Skye stressed. “I’m not sure what mind game you’re playing…”

“I’m not,” Amy pressed, slapping her pen down. “You and the mammals you know assigned the name green to a certain set of wavelengths on the electromagnetic spectrum and blue to a differing set. There is nothing fundamental about this assignment. Others assign the names blau, or verde, or… etcetera. And in my case, I assign the name blue to the area referred to as green by you.”

“-And everyone else.”

“So majority makes said social construct true…”

“-Yes.”

“Ergo if enough people agree with me that blue is green and green is blue, you by your own standards must agree.”

“No! Because Green is Green …”

“Why are you so hung up about this?”

“What!?”

“This does not affect you in any way, shape or form, it does not materially affect your life. And yet you insist that…”

“-I insist that reality is reality.”

“You insist on meddling with my values.”

“-I insist on the truth .”

“ Your truth.”

“-Blue is blue…”

“On interfering with my personal life.”

“-Green is green…”

“Dictating what I should believe.”

“-Two and two is four…”

“This means nothing to you,” Amy said. “Why can’t you let go?”

“Because of the principle! You can’t just redefine stuff like that! Blue is blue…”

“Like you are a swift fox and not a coyote…”

“ Yes! ,” Skye said, slumping back into her chair and giving a slow clap with her paws.

“And you are a predator.”

“-And green is green.”

“And a mother loves her child.”

“Yes, and…” Skye froze. “Well no…”

“Yes?” Amy asked. 

The vixen narrowed her eyes. “I see what you did there.”

“Which was?”

“Pretend me reacting to your silly green is blue thing is the same as my moth… -Birth mother being a piece of scat who never loved me. Just wanted me to be a yipping puppet she didn’t need to care for but was perfectly loyal.”

The Binturong nodded. “Consider the following. The assignment of the words red, blue and green have no basis in science. It is not like the light makes said noise or etches out the words. We call them that entirely due to social consensus. -A mother loving her child meanwhile is backed up by billions of years of evolution. It is one of the most driving factors in the survival of our specieses. It is literally encoded, hardwired, those who failed at it were logically weeded out by natural selection. It is as far from a social construct as you can get. A mother loves her child…”

“-Well ‘mine’ didn’t love me.”

“And I am so sorry about that,” Dr Lupuleli said. “But if you couldn’t let go of the blue-green thing, with no basis in reality, no effect on you…”

“I…” Skye’s ears went back, the vixen turning to the ground. She snorted. “I don’t have a chance of letting go of her , do I?”

“She was supposed to love you. Care for you. You were supposed to see her as a beacon of safety to run to. It is the most basic thing, maybe even the first thing, your body and mind comprehended. But two and two added up to five and the sky was green. You were able to accept that, move on from that, build a healthy and successful life. But now that there’s no chance, none at all, that she could ever fix it… -Two and two added up to five and will now do so forever more. And of course you can’t let that go. Is that stupid?”

Skye slowly shook her head, reaching over and grabbing a tissue from the binturong’s tail and dabbing her eye. “-I… -I didn’t want her to come back, help me, be a super mother…”

“But if she had?”

“I wouldn’t have trusted her.”

“If she’d have raised other kits, proven it…”

“I’d have told her that it didn’t make up for what she did to me.”

Amy nodded. “And I understand that. That’s a valid reaction. Sometimes forgiveness can’t be earned, sometimes the hill is too hard to climb. And you are an intelligent, mature, reasonably well adjusted mammal. But the person who birthed you and failed to love you died. You saw her body. Of course she’ll steal your headspace. And it’ll be like learning to love your real mother. There won’t be a flip of the switch or anything between you thinking about her and not…” She shrugged.

“Like when green becomes purple.”

The binturong quirked her head, only to snort out a laugh as she saw the smirk on Skye’s face. “Well done.”

“You deserved it.”

She smirked. “I did.”

“And I don’t have to overthink and call myself stupid for falling into that trap now that I got my own back,” Skye said.

“Dear, I have a doctorate. If I didn’t get you in my trap, you’d be asking for a refund.”

Skye bellowed out a snort of a laugh, leaning over and chuckling before settling back. “I… I thanks. Thanks,” she said.

Amy nodded. “It’s what I do. Is there… anything else you want to discuss?”

Skye looked at her. “Like…”

“Like how the fact she died ostensibly trying to rescue a bunch of tortured children makes you feel?”

“She wanted to be a big hero or something, do the easy thing,” the vixen said. “Instead…” She trailed off. 

For a second or two the office was filled with silence, Amy looking on as the fox’s ears pulled back, her muzzle twitching a little. 

“I know how she must have felt,” she finally said. “I… I had an incident too, when I thought I was going to die due to my own mistake. And it was just me waiting for it to come. She must have felt the same way, just more and more mammals piling in, crushing… Realising she’d breathed out, couldn’t breath in again… Feeling more and more light headed, grey coming in around the outside of her eyes, the light dying out. Not even able to scream.” She shrugged. “Did she regret it? Did she just want to shout and hurt more? -Did she think of me?” She wiped her eyes, drying the tears. “Was she just terrified?”

“Does it matter?”

“I’m just curious.”

“Can you blame yourself?”

“No,” she said, looking up. “I don’t think I can.”

A short while later she left the office, pausing to text to Jack. ‘It went okay.’ To Nick. ‘Thanks.’ And, pushing her pawpad to a contact, she held the phone up to her ear, eyes misting a little as she sat down. “Hey Mum…”

.

.

.

.

“If it’s any consolation, our correct prediction that something was coming up has increased our enquiry retention rate by eighty-percent.”

Retsuko looked blankly at the fennec vixen. “I don’t think that’s something to be proud of.”

“What?” Fenneko asked, tapping a few more times on her phone before setting it down. 

“You know,” Finnick spoke from beside her. “She’s just jealous that we predicted this whole conspiracy anti-cop whatcha call it before it was cool.”

“No, I…” The red panda fumbled but it was Haida beside her that spoke.

“I don’t think it’s the prediction or anything that she’s upset about,” he said. “It’s the profiting from tragedy bit…”

“Ah,” Finnick nodded. “You’re in it for the honour.”

“-Y-yeah. It’s not honourable. It’s the opposite of that. It’s being a heartless jerk.”

“Honour goes a long way,” the male fennec nodded.

“Doesn’t pay the bills though,” his female counterpart said.

“True dat.”

“I… I just think it’d be a bad idea to go rubbing salt in the wounds,” Restuko explained on. 

“That’s why we’re running a multi-faceted, focus tested, demographic targeted social media marketing and relations strategy,” the vixen said.

The red panda and hyena looked at each other before turning to Finnick. “English please.”

“Okay, we do the ‘this was a tragedy, we wish our prediction could have actually helped to avoid this’ to the sterile corporate folk. We do ‘ha, we were clever like you and not those dumb cusses’ to the smug fellas who are probably happy that so many of those idiots died that night. And, for those who just hate the cops and are kinda sad this turned out to be fake, or didn’t do that much damage anyhow…” He tapped through his phone and turned it to the pair, revealing a captioned image of a melanistic cougar villain from a popular TV show.

“You hated the cops as you were led to believe they were implicit in mass kit abuse,” Retsuko read. “I hate the cops as critical theory proves the institution of policing is inherently anti-predator.”

“-We are not the same,” Haida finished off.

“From Mr Fang himself,” the fennec smiled, banging the table and giving a wink.

Retsuko and Haida looked at each other before staring back at the pair in front of them. “You really are that unscrupulous.”

“ -Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha… ” “ -Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha… ”

“Oh god,” the hyena muttered. 

Finnick cut off his laughter. “Stereo baby.”

“Speaking of such,” Fenneko said. “Want to start the process of upgrading to surround sound tonight?”

“Isn’t tonight when you know who is coming in for their appointment with their professional hunter and huntress?” Finnick snickered.

“-Consider it paid foreplay.”

“Nice…”

“You two,” Haida said, pausing as their food arrived. “-Really know how to lower the class of anything, don’t you?”

“What she can give, she can also take away,” Finnick smiled, giving a knowing look at the fennec vixen. 

She just gave a wink in return as their food arrived, the two beginning to tuck in eagerly. Haida and Retsuko were slower, messing around with their cutlery before taking two smaller bites.

“-Good job at rescuing that family by the way…”

“-Huh?”

Finnick swallowed down, staring at Haida. “Helping to protect that family or whatever? Good job hero.” He then took another bite, chewing away.

The hyena relaxed a little, smiling. “Well, I guess it’s when you come to it you come to it. No point training to be a hero and when the time comes not-being one, I guess.”

Retsuko nodded, leaning over and rubbing her paw over his arm. “Yeah, I… Well done there.” She smiled. “Good to know you got it out of your system.”

…

“What do you mean, got it out my system?”

The red panda blinked. “I mean, now that you’ve shown you can…”

“It’s not like it’s a kind of one time thing,” Haida said. “I mean, in that case wouldn’t I be done after the battle in the forest?”

“Advantage, yeen,” Fenneko called.

“-Yeah, but… -You were almost crushed by excavators. The family is safe now. We’re done, aren’t we?”

“Deuce,” the vixen said.

Haida gave her a look before turning back to Retsuko. “But… -Well, what about next time?”

“There’s… There’s not going to be one, isn’t there?” she said. “I mean, wasn’t the riot the whole thing he had planned? That was it, that was everything. Right?” She turned to the fennecs. 

“No evidence of anything else going on with a directed purpose,” the fennec vixen said. “Just echoes and reactionaries on both sides throwing shade at the other side. -Ooooh, new bad Kabae take.”

The red panda face-pawed. “Not another…”

“Oooh, oohhh, lemme see,” Finnick said, nudging himself over before bursting out into laughter. 

Retsuko and Haida looked on almost wearily as the phone was turned to face them. It was an (o)X post by Kabae, with a little lamb girl looking up into the corner, hooflet by the side of her head and a curious, questioning expression on her face. Below that read the words: ‘Why would they steal kits for meat and risk the revolution, when they can discredit the revolution and use them to make plenty of meat?’

“She’s still a friend right?” the hyena asked.

“I think?”

“-But wait,” Finnick said, as Fenneko took over.

“There’s more.” She turned her screen around to reveal a cutaway of a street sweeper, modified with meat and dirt separators, part filters (big chunks one way, blended stuff the other), bone removers, automated patty formers and a storage system in the back.

Haida gave a long look at it before throwing his arms out. “Why would they think the evil pred elites would do all that just to eat pulped meat scraped off the floor?”

“Pred identifying prey as well,” Fenneko said, pulling the phone away. “Predation is a concept, not a race.”

Retsuko and Haida just facepawed, the two fennecs giggling along before turning back to their food. The larger mammals though looked at their meals slightly less eagerly, Retsuko eventually starting to eat, Haida just fiddling with his plate.

“Haida?”

“Hmmmm…”

“Still thinking?”

He sighed. “How do we know that all that isn’t going to build up into round two. -Rattigan isn’t finished. Even if, according to what I’ve been told, what he caught was a dud… -Which kind of makes me wonder what the point of all this actually was. -He still wants some stuff, he isn’t done. He’s keeping Dr Silverfox, who’s to say he won’t go after us? Again?”

“Why would he want to go after us. What can we give?”

“The satisfaction of taking down someone who defied him,” Haida suggested.

“So you…”

“I…” His face slowly morphed into a horrid expression for a second before he shook it away. “Skye… -She said that she got involved in a lot of stuff that she didn’t want to get involved in. But she found out she was already in the game. It didn’t change anything, she was caught up. And so even if she didn’t like it, better to be a player than a piece.”

“And how would you be a player?”

“I…” He shrugged.

“-You could join us?” Fenneko suggested, both fennecs then repeating. “Join us. Join us.”

“Yeah, just for that, no .” 

“But it’s not like you can just carry around wandering around expecting a fight to start and jump in,” Retsuko countered.

“Well what do you suggest?” He asked. “Just, standing around, not doing anything? People died because of him. Mammals we know lost family because of him. I… -Okay, it’s complicated, but if it weren’t for him someone I know would still be alive. We can’t just do nothing. If people do nothing, what happens? The bad guy wins. If good people were all willing to do something…”

“-They were,” she said. “They all marched out to that plaza to save a bunch of kits and two-hundred of them died to give Rattigan exactly what he wanted.”

“I… -I’m not like them,” Haida said, throwing his paws at himself. 

“I don’t think I am,” the red panda nodded. “But you don’t know until… -What if you’d known nothing about what was going on. What if you were just a normal mammal, you saw all that go up, and saw the mob going past ready to be a hero? -Haida, I… -I don’t want to think what would have happened if you were there.”

His expression dropped. “I’m… I’m not like…” 

“-Realistically,” Fenneko began. “I think the people who make fun of those who were at the riot should at least accept that the entire philosophical and cultural zeitgeist of heroism and righteousness engineered and created by the thinkers and influencers of their political inclination for the last sixty-seventy years, since seeing the horrors a breed of authoritarian rule can create and vowing to do everything they can to prevent it coming about again, has been about the distrust of authority and power and the ability of the united underdogs of questioning, independent, aware people to rise up and overthrow it in a collective messianic revolution.”

A few seconds later she gave a glance at Finnick who translated. “This is the side that wrote ‘The Hungry Games’ and stuff, and wants all these plucky heroines and heroes to rise up and topple the evil government. They wanted that kinda story, taught everyone it was how it was, then act all scared and confused and superior when the people they hate decided to follow their instructions.”

“ Wait ,” Fenneko mocked. “ That’s not how you’re meant to play the game. ”

Haida nodded, only to sigh. “But… -Okay, mammals were tricked, their good intentions used against them… But we shouldn’t just abandon our good intentions, should it? If we’re all too scared to do good, if we abandon that…” He shook his head. “Where does that leave us? Doesn’t that mean the bad guys win by default?”

Retsuko nodded. “I… I get that. I think. But we’re not cops, or super heroes, or whatever. We’re civilians. We deal with accounts. We target tax fraud for a bonus when we report them, so we’re…”

“-Snitches?” Finnick asked.

“-Financial bounty hunters,” Retsuko said back, pausing to think.

“So what can we do?” Haida asked.

“Tackle insurance fraud…”

He looked down, chuckling a little. “Good one.”

“No, I’m serious.”

“Huh?”

Retusko turned to him. “Lots of the stuff they looted was in Tundratown right? Owned by polar bears.”

“...An inside job?”

“An insurance job,” she explained on. “If they owned the jewellers, during the chaos they can just hide the gold, pretend it was stolen, get the insurance money and then just pawn off their hidden goods.”

“-It’s more than that,” Haida said, clicking his fingers. “There was one store I looked at a while back, selling this seriously overpriced art. Turns out they pay crazy rents and stuff. We thought it was money laundering for the mob, which we broke down… -Anyway, I think I saw that the place was burned down during the riots.”

“Punching an artist after they lost everything,” Fenneko noted. “How charitable.”

“Except it was crap,” Haida said. “I mean, the whole place was pointless after we busted Big, no mobsters bringing in the bucks to pay crazy amounts for cheap baskets, to fund a giant rent payment back to the boss. Even if they had zero rent, they weren’t gonna pay the bills that way. But as long as their art was still listed as super valuable, smash it all up and claim the insurance…”

“It could have gone on tens, hundreds of times,” Retsuko continued. “That’s how he pays all his soldiers and troops, without paying his soldiers and troops!”

“And if we want to hurt the ones going out stealing, smashing, kitnapping and darting mammals!” Haida continued.

They looked at each other, high-pawing. “Yeah,” Haida said, digging back into his food. “Let’s do this. Let’s take out the trash.”

Finnick just sat back, looking over at Fenneko. “You know, if I were a slightly Big adjacent legitimate business mammal who’d had his business and everything he cared for burned down and destroyed, and suddenly I’m facing getting rutted over by two pencil pushers who wanna score points. I… -Cuss it, different story I guess. Screw that Finn, I got my own.” And with that, the pair dug in.

.

.

The air was quiet in Bunnyburrow.

Judy, head bowed and black robe wrapped around her body, stood on silently as the weeping bunnies in front of her buried what they could.

Returning Devan to the fields.

Even if all they could find of him were the odd scraps of fur and a few fur clippings swept from his bed. His parents held each other, sobbing uncontrollably as the meagre scraps were placed into the dug out grave, a vast chasm in comparison.

It didn’t matter if they hadn’t found anything of him. He was still a full grown Hopps buck. He’d be buried as such.

What there was was lost as it settled in the rough floor, and soon slowly buried as the bunnies lined up. A pawful of dirt each from the pile, they dropped it in, slowly building up the covering. Getting in line, Judy followed on, paw down and grabbing and then dropping it in.

She circled back down to her seat and wiped the tears away from her eye with her clean paw. By the end, all members of the wider family had done their part, most of the grave filled up. They began leaving for the wake, only for Judy to stay where she was.

A few minutes passed and she walked forward, back to the grave-site. It was up to those closest to the deceased to fill in the remainder of the grave: Devan’s parents, her parents, his littermates. She walked over and, for lack of a spare shovel, grabbed a clod of earth with both her paws and carried it over, dropping it down and in.

Back to the pile, she grabbed another, walking over and heaving it in and…

“-Jude?”

She turned over to see her father, standing there.

“I want to…” She began.

“Please, you did more than enough already.”

She turned down to the mostly-filled pit, remembering just how little there was underneath there. “No, I…”

“-Jude,” he insisted. “Please, just… -come with me for a second.”

She silently obliged, leaving the rest of the family to do their duty without her. “-I…”

“I saw one or two pictures, I…” he began, fumbling his words a little. “Sweet cheese Judy, none of us could ever imagine something like that happening. And you were there when it all went down, I… -We’re all more than grateful that you even tried to find what happened to him.”

“But I didn’t,” she said, “I…”

She was cut off, a finger on her mouth. “Judy Hopps, I suppose when you get something into your head, you just can’t get it out, can you?”

Looking down, she sighed. “No, I can’t.”

He nodded. “I’m not gonna stop you from helping out, though I will insist you go over to the barn and grab a shovel for it.”

She almost pointed out they’d be done by then, but chose better of it. 

“Do it because you want to,” he said, sniffing as he wiped a tear away. “Do it for your cousin, who heard the piper's call and followed on. But not because you failed to get him back, understand?”

She slowly nodded, jerking as he took her into a tight hug. Slowly, she leant forward and held him back, tight.

By the time they let go, so much of the job was done even she felt it was pointless. Instead, she offered to take the shovels back herself, taking the burden from those grieving. 

With that she left the field, contemplating all that had happened. 

He wouldn’t spend the rest of days under the farm fields, nourishing and growing that which had nourished and grown him. He’d been washed to sea in a mix of a hundred others and stark, sterile chemicals. He’d been digested by acid and processed out through the sewer system. He’d been rendered and removed, his empty burrow and tunnels to remain without life forever more, his chronicles and writings to remain unfinished. 

He’d gone to Zootopia to be part of the revolution.

To be the hero.

To follow Rattigan, who to him was the greatest mammal who’d ever lived.

To Rattigan though, he was a nothing.

But he wasn’t. Nobody was. And the bunny swore that, in Devan’s name, Rattigan would be captured, prosecuted, imprisoned and reduced to one too.

.

.

Bogo stared on implacably, a pair of bloodshot eyes looking back. Intubated, bandaged, oxygen tubes through his nose and bandages covering most of what had once been his fur.

Officer Wolford slowly wrote down on a small whiteboard, showing it up to him. “So it was all for nothing?”

“They got lucky,” was all he could say. “You did your duty.”

The wolf wiped the board clean, writing out once more. “So that’s it, huh?”

“No,” the buffalo spoke. “From our intel, it may seem like he won the war, but he lost what was to him the most important battle. He’s emotional, we think he’s turned on his allies, he’s more desperate than ever, he…”

Bogo paused, watching as the wolf wrote down something new. “ You’re going to wait until he starts monologuing and then capture him, huh? ”

“Everyone underestimated him before and he hit us with everything we got. Now he’s got a fraction of his power, and everyone is thirsty for revenge. We will avenge them. Everyone!”

The wolf let out a sigh, writing down something new. “ I’ll believe it when I see it. ”

“Then let me assure you, we will do our upmost to rebuild your faith in the ZPD.” Standing up, he gave a sharp salute to the injured officer. Wolford strained to give a nod in return, the Chief leaving him be. He stepped out of the room, only to pause as he saw a doctor and a female wolf waiting outside.

“Oh, uh,” the zebra doctor began. “I was just giving an update to Mrs Wolford on her husband's condition.”

“Shall I?” Bogo began, looking at her.

“Carry on,” she said to the black and white striped mare, who did just that.

“While widespread across his body, the damage is surface level. Mostly. Damage to the lungs and trachea is notable, but we believe with a course of rest and treatment it will heal itself over the course of a year maximum. The same can be said for the skin damage. He’s passed the most dangerous threat, simple poisoning, though for the next few weeks there is still a heightened risk of infection. We’re not starting him on pre-emptive antibiotics yet, but are keeping an incredibly close eye so at the first sign we can.”

“-Will he be able to go back to being a police officer?”

Bogo looked down to see a tweenage torch-key raccoon by Mrs Wolford’s side, one of the pair's adopted sons. He wasn’t sure who exactly the question was aimed at, so covered his side at the least. “We’ll make sure there’s a position open for him. We can find one.”

“-I don’t think he’d like working in records.”

This time Bogo let the zebra next to him answer. “Getting up to peak fitness will take longer, and there is a fair chance that a permanent, if small, hit on his fitness and stamina will occur. Shortness of breath, etcetera. -And of course after a year of recovery he’ll need to train again to get up to a level of physical fitness and strength to even…”

Bogo held a paw out, turning to the two members of the family. “Knowing your husband, it was the mechanics of the beat he enjoyed. Even passing up chances to rise higher up the command chain. -An assessment I agreed with. That was where his strength was. -There are plenty of positions and locations we can assign that would still let him make the most of his skills.”

“That is appreciated,” Mrs Wolford said, nodding. “And what about the mammals responsible for this. Any leads?”

“Not that I can discuss with you Ma’am, apart from the fact that a new asset has got in contact with interpol. One who claims to have tried to investigate a warehouse where the rat was fielding much of his logistical operation, only to find it torched when he arrived. -Something we confirmed upon finding it.”

She nodded. “So no leads then.”

The cape buffalo sighed. “We’re still picking up the pieces or wreckage at the moment. We’re down many mammals, vastly outstretched, all community, outreach and white collar divisions have practically been paused indefinitely as we pursue damage control. But we have captured a number of his foot soldiers, we have new intel, and as we start to sift and look through…”

“He may have already gone on,” she said.

“We have intelligence to suggest otherwise.”

“Do you now?”

Bogo looked at her before his eyes narrowed. “Even if I was at liberty to disclose such information, I’m not sure what you would be able to do with it. Not unless certain ludicrous conspiracy theories about your nighttime activities turned out to be true.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You know, I heard that while I was in the ZNN building trying to get the new messages out, there were reports of a wolf clad in dark flames wandering about the city, keeping peace and order.”

Bogo gave a slight harumph. “I’m certain we’ve only just seen the start of rumours of what went on during that night. Don’t worry though, I am certain now more than ever mammals won’t call us out for protecting you against the crazies.”

“It’s appreciated,” she smiled. “Though I assure you, it would be the crazies that need protection from me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to see my husband.”

Bogo nodded, gesturing her in.

And with that, he carried down the wards, looking at the fallen as he went. He’d already seen those others who’d been on the convoy operation. They’d had it the worst. But there were others too. Looking into another room, he saw a room full of rats attending to a hyena officer, her head wrapped around with bandages. Confusing familial relationships aside, he’d heard she was one of the mammals sent to the attempted swap for Wilde. When that had failed, they hadn’t received orders to move, and then found themselves and their equipment stranded on the islands when a hack by Rattigan had closed the swing bridge.

It didn’t matter that the Rainforest had basically lost all of its riot control equipment then and there, when the armies of rioters had spilled out of the Sakhin Community Ziggurats and swamped the nearby Precincts, she and numerous other officers had swam the channel and tried to join the lines on foot, lest the entire district go up in flames.

She’d ended up taking a rock to the head from a biker wolf.

Next door was an arctic fox, her partner, muzzle stained with chocolate pudding as he muzzle-timed his family or something. Same fate, though he’d gotten off somewhat lighter. It seemed he was going to be discharged soon, so he was thankful for that.

Speaking of discharges…

He looked up to see Detective Oates walking towards him, Basil and Dave on his shoulder. The smaller pair had only suffered minor injuries and been discharged quickly. Oates though had been in to ensure that no permanent eye damage had been done. Cleared today, he was on his way out.

He froze as he saw Bogo in front of him, hoof coming up in salute. Something the buffalo matched. And then, reaching around his neck, he pulled off his badge, offering it to him.

“Oates?” the Chief asked, voice neutrally gruff as ever.

“Sir, not only did I fail to apprehend our suspect, ergo invalidating the sacrifice of other brother officers in the convoy. I… -I am personally responsible for the riot and devastation that followed. It was my phone, and the VPN system, that…”

Bogo grabbed his badge, thrust it back in his chest, and blew air through his nostrils. “And I gave the performance of a lifetime in front of that webcam camera. I don’t care. I assume your obligatory honour test is complete now, and you’re willing to come back and carry on at your job.”

Smiling, the horse pulled his badge back and nodded. “Yeah, I think I am.”

The two mice nodded along.

“Good,” Bogo said. “We have a rat to catch, and I want everyone we have at paw to do it.”

.

.

Carmelita looked out over the devastation.

Sure, she’d heard of the horror stories in the Rainforest District, but actually seeing it in the fur?

The Sakhin Ziggurats at some time… -Might have looked pleasant. She wasn’t sure. All she could say was at one time, the mammals who’d designed this had one great big circle-preen with the ones who’d designed the many banlieue she was personally familiar with back in her country of residence. Either that or they had chosen to one-up their european counterparts.  

The buildings were tall, squat, built out of ugly greyed concrete panels with visible seams running where they’d been slotted together. She couldn’t even say they had the grace of the Mayan and Aztgat ruins she guessed they were inspired by. Rather than elegant or neat pyramids or stepped valleys, crisscrossed with the odd clear bridge or surrounding a nice symmetrical pool, it seemed like the architects had gone around to try and break any semblance of order apart, as if the idea that their product might reflect something proud and dignified was antithetical to their whole philosophy. Going up the steps of the pyramids, random towers sprouted up here and there, a few units would step out rather than stepping in as they went up, overhangs or offsets were placed… -She couldn’t even figure out why. It just meant what could have been a nice looking square or avenue was instead a mish-mashed hard to police string of oddly unsatisfying spaces, bordered by repetitive flat grey walls.

One or two odd panels here and there had been moulded with intricate patterns or such, but it was if it was a tease for what could have been. 

But she figured there had been a saving grace once. Baskets and growing vines, covering the concrete with leaves and moss, as if the intent had once just been to create a blank slate for the artificial flora to paint into something mystic, calming, even intriguing… A true lost temple in the jungle.

The jungle now slashed and burned, the curtain shredded and the emperor shown naked and bare.

They’d ripped off everything, an orge of destruction that had torn apart anything beautiful and good that they had, and then everything else for good measure. In between the sucker-marks where Ivy had once been were smashed up windows, ripped apart door shutters, scrawls and scrawls of graffiti and the burnt out smoke marks of old flares.

Further down were the remains of vehicles. Civilian or police, it didn’t matter, just burnt out husks remained, overturned in the small pools or boxed in ugly attempts at canals.

She sighed, rubbing her head. 

All this had been done after they’d got the truth out. Her eyes lingered to the burnt out husk of one small, squat, overpoweringly overshadowed inverted pyramid. The local precinct. -Now she was certain that the mammals who designed this place had not liked authority. The cops had been given a place to work with that was dominated by that which surrounded it, as if to remind the officers that they were enemies in a powerful nation. When they, with many of their most powerful mammals split off and absent, had been assaulted… They didn’t stand a chance.

Checking the time and seeing her shift patrolling the area was over, she pulled herself into her cruiser and set off again. Following the route that the rioters had taken after they stormed their bastille, moving on with revolutionary fervour towards Versaille. 

Anything along the wide road bore the scars, smashed up and wounded at best, torched out and gone at worst. Upturned cars, newsstands torn into shreds. Pools were still present around every single fire hydrant while, reaching a bridge over to the next neighbourhood, she saw the burnt ruins up ahead. A celebration of redistribution, the lines of brick and timber buildings picked clean, the residents in the streets slowly picking up, sweeping, looking around lost and angry.

As she went, the increasingly dense buildings were less devastated but still showing the scars, the tide mark from the waves that had come in. Those lucky enough to have shutters on their shop doors would be paying to replace them. Those unlucky enough had lost everything within. Any cars parked on the streets hadn’t stood a chance, the vixen betting that some mammals had made it their duty to quality control the riot, ensuring no vehicle didn’t escape.

And then she saw the proud civil centre at the heart of this area. It almost reminded her of Falling Water in a way, great long horizontal forms and rising towers with great glass windows, all while waterfalls fell from beneath cantilevered spans and collected in pools and rock gardens beneath.

Rock gardens scattered with improvised weapons, crushed riot shields, the decorations and decorative plants torn up and ploughed in from the carnage that had played out on top, the forces trying to keep the army out. Her eyes looked on at the smashed in windows, the soggy masses of thrown out papers, the scorch marks and graffiti. They lowered to the odd police baton sticking out of the ground, a cap or helmet hanging off of them.

The vixen nodded her head, paw up in salute as she carried on.

Moving up into the district.

Past more damage on the ground floor and, looking up, in the canopies too. Torn out branches and damaged rope bridges, the odd ashen scar or broken window in the giant artificial trees.

Eyes back to the road, weaving between the odd burnt out vehicle or passing over the still stamped in tiremark and donut, the devastation suddenly skyrocketed. Burnt out homes, piles of refuse up in a barricade, the bridges up above cut through and hanging in the wind, planks dropped and shattered on the ground.

-And then, it was all normal as she approached the crossroads, Vine and Tujunga to the left, Old Growth City to the right, Cloud Forest up ahead.

That was where they’d held the line.

The tsunami had left its high-tide mark before falling back, the angry mammals returning back to where they’d come from and, seeing everything there bar the police station untouched, chose to render it down to its level. Like an angry kit deciding to tear up their room to prove a point.

The rest of her journey up was spent in quiet, contemplating everything until, finally, arriving at the outside of the temple, high up in the mist and cloud.

Stepping inside the central plaza, pagoda in the centre rising up, she saw that the devastation that had gone on there had been cleaned up. A stark solemn quiet instead filled the air, Carmelita walking on and joining Tigress by a small shrine, incense burning.

The big cat sat in the lotus position, paws clasped together, head bowed.

Carmelita bowed her head with her, slowly moving a paw over to touch Tigress’ leg.

She gave a glance over at the smaller mammal, before turning back to the front.

“He died honourably.”

“So I have heard,” the tiger said.

“He died saving us. All of us. He was a hero.”

“ -Yeah ,” a new, loud, voice called, paired with a big, deep sniff. Carmelita looked up and gave a smile as she saw Murray coming over, a… 

“-Party poppers?”

“I know he liked fireworks, so these were the best I could get on short notice,” he said, pulling one out and tugging at the string. With a sudden pop, a cloud of confetti was scattered out, draping over the shrine and the portrait of Panda King.

Carmelita sniffed in the sulphurous scent of the powder.

“-That was his favourite scent,” Tigress said.

“-Yeah,” Murray agreed, pausing as he saw Po coming over, a crying Jing next to him.. “-You feeling good? Both of you.”

Jing pulled in a sniff, shaking her head, the hippo moving over to hug her along with Po. 

“Still rough,” Po said, sighing.

“And, uh, your battle injury?” the hippo asked.

“Never better,” he said, moving into a very slight action pose. “-Still waiting on the superpowers, but…” He shrugged.

“It doesn’t work like that, Master Po,” Tigress said.

“I can hope,” he said, turning down to the shrine and kneeling. “He… He taught us to hope.”

“That he did,” Jing cried out in a sob, Po moving over to comfort her.

“He taught us humility,” Tigress said, paw slowly moving over to light another stick of incense. She took a breath in and let it out in a long sigh, glancing down at Carmelita. “I am sure, given his past, you would never expect him to be a hero?”

“I guess not,” Carmelita said.

“Yet he proved himself. With redemption, with honour, he showed that for love the greatest enemies can become friends. Allies. To strive for good. To save the innocent.” She glanced at Jing. “To give a paw out for even the worst.”

The female panda nodded, sniffing in before turning to Carmelita. “Did… -Did he regret…”

“No,” she said. “He only showed sadness that those who strove the path he once did, could not find the better one he discovered. He lived following his philosophy, staying true to himself…”

“And he died awesome,” Po said, holding her. “Not a victim, not a failure, I am sure he died knowing victory. For us.”

“For all of us,” Carmelita agreed.

Pulling in a sob, Jing turned back to the shrine, Tigress moving over and comforting her.

They stayed like that for a while, soon joined by another mammal, and one non-mammal.

By the time they split off, Jing alone and Po, Tigress, Carmelita and the Cooper gang together, the group were ready to move on.

They met in a small meeting room, sitting down on the varnished timber floor, bowls of soup out in front of them and small pieces of prawn toast, bamboo rolls and other snacks available for them to nibble on.

“What now?” Po asked. “The war is not over.”

“No, it’s not,” Sly said, the panda turning to look at the raccoon. The raccoon looked back, rising up. “I made a promise to a father torn away from his son for the third time. I would rescue him. I would take their family and put it back together again. That’s why I joined with The Panda King all those years ago… Even though he helped tear apart mine when I was young. And even if he isn’t here today, I, his friends, his students…”

“-Wait, wait, wait…” Po cut in. “You’re…”

Sly glanced over, nodding. “I…”

“-YES!” 

Sly stepped back, smirking. “You don’t…”

“I GET TO JOIN THE COOPER GANG! ISN’T THAT AWESOME!”

“YES IT IS!” Murray agreed, raising up a bowl of prawn crackers like a glass for a toast and downing them all.

“TIGRESS!” Po shouted. “I get to join the Cooper gang, you get to join the Cooper gang…”

“I don’t…” she began to say, only for Po to nudge up to her, holding her along. 

“The greatest thieves who ever lived. Returned. Stealing only from master criminals, since there is no fun in stealing from regular, ordinary people, who…”

“-Are right by an Interpol super cop,” Tigress said, glancing down to a few peking style ostrich ribs, picking them up with her chopsticks.

“Oh, uh… -We weren’t talking about anything. And if we were, we are stealing from bad guys.”

Carmelita rolled her eyes. “Handling stolen property is a crime,” she said, waving a spring roll about. “Though, if you were to always give it back…” She raised an eyebrow, looking over at Sly.

“Not like we’ve got anywhere to put in now,” he shrugged, grabbing a teriyaki chicken wing.

“Or more important things to talk about,” Bentley said, turning to Sly.

The raccoon took a bite of his wing and shrugged. 

“I suppose,” Tigress mused. “If the help is needed to bring in Rattigan and his allies, to end this madness, and restore order. I believe, in Panda King's honour, I must.”

“-I… -I mean that’s great,” Po said, “But it’s ‘do you want to.’ We don’t want to peer pressure you or…”

“Am I one to be peer pressured?” she asked, giving a smile.

Po smiled back.

“Well, welcome to the gang,” Sly said, wiping one paw with a napkin and leaning over to shake hers, then Po’s. He settled back down, taking another bite, only to pause.

“Anything on my face?”

“As I was saying,” Bentley carried on. “Any information is of importance. Anything we have learnt about Rattigan, though you have already informed us of all you know.” The raccoon nodded, paw and chicken wing leaning down against his bowl as the turtle carried on. “-Same goes to Clockwerk too. We’ve shared all we know about him that we gleaned while you were gone.”

“And very informative,” Sly agreed, a slight splashing coming from his bowl. 

“Uh-hu.”

“And disturbing.”

“-And…?”

“-And?” Sly asked, head tilting a bit.

They were silent for a few seconds, the soft sound of sloshing ringing out, all eyes turning to the raccoon.

“-What?”

“Uh Sly,” Murray began. “You’re food washing.”

He paused, looking down, his half-eaten chicken wing clasped in both of his wet and stained paws, half submerged in the soup. He looked up, cocking an eyebrow. “Ever heard of dunking food?”

“With both paws?” the hippo asked.

“Better grip.”

“That’s… Teriyaki chicken,” Tigress said.

“And very nice.”

“Dunked in spicy cantonese seafood soup?”

“...-Underrated combination,” Sly said, bringing the food up and taking a bite. They watched on as he chewed, Po leaning over, picking up another, dunking it in his soup and taking a bite too.

“-Story checks out.”

“See,” Sly said, “no problem at all.” He dunked his wing, brought it up and chewed the last bits off before tossing the bone. “Now, if you excuse me, just got to clean my paw.” And with that he excused himself. “-Oh, and again, welcome to the crew.”

Po and Tigress returned their thanks as he left, before turning to the older members. “So, uh…?” the feline began.

“”I haven’t seen him washing his food like that in years,” Murray said, Bentley nodding along.

“I suppose then that is confirmation that something between him and Clockwerk did happen in the past,” the vixen said.

“-Wait what?” Po asked.

“He returned to the present in something that was clearly Clockwerk technology,” Bentley explained, pulling his glasses off and giving them a wipe. “We know our mutual fiend existed far before that as well… Something went on between them. Maybe a battle, a theft, something more or less… -Though given Sly’s reaction… It’s something he does not want to talk about. And I don’t think we can make him.”

“What if it is critical?” Carmelita asked.

“I know him,” Bentley countered. “Pushing is unlikely to help, he’ll say when he’s ready.”

“And what if that’s too late?” she asked.

The turtle shrugged. “Then I’ll hope the odds are in our favour.”

.

.

Far below them, Rattigan studied his maps and his contact details.

“I don’t like this,” she said.

He glanced over at her. “If we are to achieve what we want, it is the only way. I know what I saw and heard, this is the place. And The General is more than ready to play his part.”

She nodded, glancing over to the cells. Their former allies, too untrustworthy to be released until it was done. The captured professor. Who would have a use when they returned with what they wanted, to decode and assist. Not that he was going to. Yet. That would be her job, to make him act. And she knew how to. Kits made it all too easy, and there were plenty of ways to get to them.

Rattigan though…

He studied them, then turned to his maps and data once again.

Those pests should not be able to guess where they were going next. A little holiday down south of the border. Then again, with those filthy mice back in the game, and none other than Sly cussin’ Cooper on their side… 

He couldn’t be certain.

After all, that was why he was going in with guns. From the start. And he would and The General would be more than willing to use them, should that damn raccoon or any of their pests show up to interrupt them.

Indeed, maybe it was just a teensy bit of cockiness, but if they were to be the ones to truly rid the criminal world of the scourge of the Cooper’s…

He was looking forward to being the one to pull the trigger.

Chapter Text

.

.

The mouse blinked a few times, focussing his eyes on something off in the background. Narrowing them, trying one at a time, pulling his glasses off the edge of his nose a little…

“-As the optometrist said,” Dave repeated, walking over, pulling Basil’s paw away and pushing the glasses back hard onto the other mouse’s face. “It’s fine. Minor irritation to the external surface of the eye at most. No damage to the lens or the cornea.”

“Sure, sure, I’ll be happy to remember that when I’m feeling my way around with a cane.”

The portlier of the two mice remained silent, staying next to the thinner as Detective Oates, silent despite his protective glasses, carried them in for the briefing. Stepping into the room, Chief Bogo, Inspector Carmelita, Officers Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps saw them and gave them varying levels of firm salutes, walking over to greet them and welcome them home.

“-Inspectors,” Carmelita began, “I entrust you three are well?”

Followed by Judy. “Back and ready to fight I hope?”

Nick. “I’d offer you some of the Hopps home remedy, but I don’t think it’ll agree with your eyes.”

“Welcome back Detectives,” Bogo said, the three nodding in agreement. 

“Yes, yes,” Basil said, breathing in and out. He patted down the front of his coat, before guiding down Oates to place him and his husband down on the table. The horse followed, pulling out a chair and sitting down, an odd silent expression on his face.

One held by Basil and Dave.

“-Yup,” Nick finally said. “It’s true, all of it.”

Basil turned to Carmelita. “And you and Sly Cooper…”

“At the Krakarov volcano,” she said, nodding her head. “Sí.”

“Well,” he sighed, giving a shrug. “It certainly lines up with our rat’s sudden change in behaviour, his disappearance, his reappearance…” He then turned up to Carm. “At the same time, if you knew that bear had one of the devices…”

“-I only suspected it at the time,” Carmelita said. “Besides, the way we operated prevented LSA’s forces from kitnapping Dr Silverfox, and…”

“-Which certainly changed the stakes we’re facing now…” Basil continued, even as Dave walked over to try and calm him.

It was Bogo though who broke the standoff. “ENOUGH!” He looked at the mice, then down at Carmelita. “While I can certainly see the motivation to keep this information on such a need to know basis, there were plenty of mammals I would say were need to know who were not informed. Either way, it’s pointless arguing about what could have been. We were snatched defeat from the jaws of victory only for two strokes of luck to reset everything back to square one. We need to focus on the now and get, -that, -RAT! ”

He banged his hoof on the table, the two mice shaking slightly, Dave leaning out to steady Basil. “-Indeed,” the portlier mouse said. “After all, I was going to say hindsight is twenty-twenty and all… But every second we limit is a chance for Rattigan to re-plan, reorganise. Indeed, he might have cashed in all he got from the looting and already made a break for it, moving over to retrieve the next talisman. I…”

A gentle knock on the door rang out, Clawhauser’s voice picking up through. “Uh, Chief, the civilian consultants are here.”

“Which ones?” Basil asked.

“Uh, the two acc…”

“-Perfect, just give us twenty seconds,” the mouse said, before turning to the assembled crowd. “The following mammals are not briefed, though if at any point you feel doing so would aid them, be my guest. In any case, they liaised to us through Officers Wilde and Hopps…” He gestured over to the pair. “Who can personally vouch for them. -They believe they have the resources to help us in a joint strategy that can apply pressure at Rattigan’s weakest point. His allies.”

“I thought you said Rattigan didn’t have any allies,” Bogo said.

“Just mammals he seeks to use for his advantage,” the mouse said, nodding. “Exactly. -You can come in.”

The door opened and Haida and Retsuko walked inside, the hyena showing a few nerves but keeping them largely under check, and the red panda looking like she was about to give a career defining lecture after losing half the notes. Either way, they walked up, Nick and Judy nodding and giving them a thumbs up which went some way to calming their nerves.

Finally, plugging his laptop in and getting it working, Haida opened up a power point and cleared his throat a few times. “-Okay then… So, so far we’ve worked as independent tax investigators, helping to clear up a few businesses relying a bit too much on under the table work. Of course, after what Rattigan did to this city, we wanted to go out and try and bring him in. Isn’t that right?”

“...-I, -yes, yes it is,” Retsuko smiled, nodding along. She then walked forward. “So, we know for a fact that he stole a lot of goods and resources, he’s taking that with him. But he also had a lot of foot soldiers who did the grunt work and need to be paid. Some will get straight money or gold jewellery and stuff that they can send to cash to gold services, but others needed bigger payments. Ones that would be easy to distribute and hard to trace.” She sucked a breath in and let another out. “From what we gather, most of his helpers were polar bears left unemployed after the collapse of the Big crime empire. However, from the records of those arrested and captured, many of them were not unemployed. They were often small business owners. So, why were they throwing all this in with Rattigan? Because looking at their business reports and bank accounts, they didn’t make a profit without Big. Or worse, they were never meant to make a profit anyway. I…”

“-I’m sure they know all about money laundering,” Haida explained on.

“I… Right,” she said, thinking for a second. “But with no gambling enterprises in his area, there was no easy way to throw illegally acquired cash away and get it back to the central organisation as ‘honest’ earnings. That’s why many mammals, often older soldiers who’d earned Big’s favour, ran luxury stores or establishments. -Jewelers, art stores, massage parlours, selling their products at a massive premium. His soldiers buy the product, the head of the organisation takes almost all the earnings via sky high rents. It works well for everyone, until Big is gone and now nobody wants to buy what is being sold and even with normal rents the veteran soldiers are facing bankruptcy and losing their house.”

She clicked on her remote, pausing as a slide came up explaining exactly what she’d just said. “I…” She clicked it again, showing a few different suspected locations, all with one thing in common.

“Of course,” Basil said, taking over. “They still retain the high value status as it were, and commanding insurance policies too. The result? Their products and residences are worth vastly more burnt, destroyed and looted than they are standing. And when Rattigan gave them the chance to make the easy trade they did just that.”

He gestured to Haida, who flicked the powerpoint to a new slide, a set of scorched and ash stained golden rings pictured on a concrete floor. “These were found at the warehouse Rattigan was using as a logistics hub during the looting,” Dave explained. “Dropped on the floor, left behind, you can see where the cheap glue has melted and let the fake diamond drop out. -Those rings trace back to this shop here.” The screen was flicked to a before and after picture of the store, the latter burned out and ruined. “From what we gather, those were sold and insured for the value they’d be if they were pure gold and real diamond. The property was listed as being owned by one of Mr Big’s holding companies, and has now been transferred to a bank. It was looted…” He flicked forward, the video showing a smash and grab by a set of polar bears. “By Big’s ex-mammals. The owners seemingly not doing or trying anything to stop them.”

“Yeah, and now they get a crazy insurance payout that they can sit back and retire on,” Haida said. “If we don’t step in and get them for insurance fraud first!”

Basil nodded. “Indeed, that’s the plan. Rattigan believed that once the looting was complete, he’d be out of the city. Done. But now, it seems he’ll be remaining at least a little longer. Long enough, hopefully, for us to pressure these loose endings into giving away critical information that will lead us to him.”

They all looked around and nodded, only for Judy to raise a paw. “Excellent idea, only one slight problem. What concrete proof do we have that this is an insurance job?”

Retsuko turned to her. “I mean… We know what these polar bears were doing, we know these businesses were with the Big’s, it all fits together…”

“-Yeah, and find one or two who were working with Rattigan, boom! What more proof do we need?” Haida asked.

This time it was Nick who answered, standing up and walking over. “Sure, things look like it. And oxam’s razor, it is what it is. I’m certain a very angry jury would see polar bear and even an odd connection and want to throw the book at them. All well and good, and I’m not saying we can’t do it… -Though apologies if I’m conscious of the fact that chances are we’ll land on the one poor innocent polar bear family who didn’t get involved in this and were just trying their best to run a business and now have to deal with the emotional toll of getting their business burnt out, their insurance withheld, all their savings lost, their father and friends sent away for years for something they didn’t do… Yada-yada you get the picture.”

“-Oh,” Retusko said, her voice and tail wilting. “Does that… -Happen often?”

Nick shrugged. “Just… Healthy pessimism and sympathy for those not well liked by the public eye in this moment of time. -Here’s the thing, the plan? Good plan. Even with only circumstantial evidence, your chances are good, but a good lawyer would be able to get the guilty off that and a bad one the innocent on. What we really need is a clincher, the…”

“Get them dead to rights?” Haida asked.

“Yes,” Judy nodded, “for instance…”

“-The body of one of Rattigan’s top goons?” 

It was Bogo who spoke. “Go on.”

The hyena smiled, clicking forward. A picture of a small store was revealed, burnt out and ruined. “So, this is the ‘Tundra Town Boutique’. A very expensive and overpriced art and crafts store owned by the Krovstoit family. Osip, Melissa, and their son Timofey, who’s in juvenile prison for beating up some mammals during the howler crisis. -Anyway, Osip would also be in prison now, if it weren’t for the fact he was killed in action attacking the Fox family house. -We don’t have a picture of that. Well, you do, but… -You know.”

“Regardless, that connection is better proof,” Bogo said. “I’d say we could leverage a deal where her son gets out early, he’s up for first chance at parole soon enough anyway.” He rubbed his chin. “Still, I don’t think there’s much chance she didn’t know. We can push her for as much as she can give.”

“What if she has a good lawyer?” the red panda asked.

“What if she has a bad layer,” Haida replied.

“-What,” Judy suggested, “if we have some evidence even a good lawyer would struggle to refute.”

The civilians looked at her, Nick smiling as he eyed the bunny. “Her words against her words?”

The bunny smiled, looking up and over to Basil and Dave. “I’m sure you can work something out.”

“That we can,” Basil said, turning to Retusko and Haida. “You two carry on with your financial digging on them and others. We’ll make it so Mrs Krovstoit digs her own grave.”

They nodded, the two civilians leaving. Making sure the door was closed behind them. Bogo looked at the mice, nodding. He turned down to the intercom pressing it. “Clawhauser, send in the other three consultants.”

“-Right, uh sir? There’s this military consultant here with what she claims is some urgent news. ”

“Send her in,” the buffalo said, before turning to Carmelita. The fox’s fur had risen up, her tail flicking behind her. The Chief just raised an eyebrow. “I do believe you have a history with this mammal?” he asked, pausing as a door opened behind him, Sly, Murray and Bentley moving in.

“You could say that,” she said, sighing. “Though as long as she doesn’t gloat over her past actions, I suppose I can be magnanimous.”

Bogo nodded. “I can do that for her,” he said, the vixen glaring for a second as the door opened, Lt Vixen walking in briskly. 

“Past actions such as saving your tail, I presume?” she asked.

“That would be the one,” Bogo agreed.

Carmelita looked at her and just nodded, smiling. “Gracias.” 

Lt Vixen nodded. “Chief, Officers,” she saluted. She then turned to Sly and the others, smiling and chipper as ever. “Criminals.”

Murray huffed, crossing his arms. “We prefer thieves.”

The vixen shrugged. “As long as I can refer to him as hacker, sounds good.”

“I suppose that’s a reasonable compromise,” Bentley said. “Also, congratulations on the find.”

The vixen nodded. “Indeed, I suppose that intel dump and the schadenfreude of not only finding the original Amber Room, but then donating it to its original-original home in Bearlin rather than back to Russia, mollified my superiors somewhat. -Just remember that they have predator drones and you do not.”

The turtle shrugged, about to speak only for a paw on his shoulder and a look from Sly to quieten him down. Bogo, frown lines already etched on his face, turned to Lt Vixen. “Regardless, I believe you’re here with information on that wayward wolf of yours.”

“No. Instead we have news on Rattigan.”

All eyes turned to her, the vixen pulling out a tablet, logging on and displaying it for all the mammals (and non mammal) to see. It was a map of the western seaboard, Zootopia’s territory up in the north west and San Dingo down near the bottom. Along it were various marked out positions, Lt Vixen flicking through. A UFO sighting just across the border, something strange, angular and black crossing between the tops of the trees. A few more near the southern Boarigan coast, along with some reports of cars being stolen. Other remarks and similar posts going down the western edge of the Sierra Nevada. Reports of cars being broken into in the car parks for Yotemite and Squirquoia national parks, only to be found off the road, their tanks drained.

Other clips of an object flying at night, or nocturnal mammals spotting it and trying to film it, their cameras far less adept than their own eyes.

The last piece though, a dik-dok video taken by some hikers during the day, showed it in what appeared to be the most clear condition, though in terms of showing what it was it still left plenty to be desired. The family, a herd of pronghorn by the look of it, were filming across a steep set of gorges and rivers, unable to get closer. But, through the trees, they saw an angular object almost like a set of small pyramids covered up in a camouflage net, billowing and fluttering with the breeze.

“We believe that this object is one of these,” the vixen said, turning the picture over to reveal a shot down aircraft on display, parts crumpled or blown out. Looking past the damage, it looked like an old F-117A Nighthawk stealth fighter, black with sharp angular shapes. Only, instead of having wings and a ‘forward’ direction, it was perfectly symmetrical, four panel shielded rotors emerging out of each corner.

“Is that a stealth drone?” Carmelita asked.

“Very astute,” Lt Vixen smiled. “And in this case I don’t blame Interpol for not knowing about them, we’ve only had limited encounters ourselves. -Though I must correct you in one area, technically this is not a drone…”

“-It’s piloted,” Basil said, walking forward. “-Genius! That’s genius… ”

“And intolerably annoying to fight against,” Lt Vixen agreed. “This has a radar cross section that would make a fly look fat. And given that it’s highly manoeuvrable and piloted, a skilled set of operators can move at night, barely above or even below the tree line.”

“Undetectable,” Basil agreed. “Except…” He paused, smiling.

“-They need to fill up with gas!” Murray said, walking up.

“Hence,” Lt Vixen smiled, “the need to steal cars and siphon off the tank, Bearfoot bandit style. From the few we’ve captured, I’d suspect that they’re keeping it topped up as much as possible in favourable terrain, before making the dart across the desert that’s coming up. Our monitoring has suggested this one is moving south, and will probably be able to reach Vegas or the southern border by the morning.”

Carmelita looked at it for a second before turning to Bogo. “Get in contact with Kozlov, now.”

He frowned. “Why…”

“-Because if this is Rattigan moving south, there is one logical reason. He knows or at least suspects where another talisman is, and he’s on his way to get it.”

The cape buffalo turned down and pressed his intercom. “Clawhauser. Get in contact with the officers providing protection for Pyotor Kozlov and get him on via video link now.”

“ -Yes sir… ”

A few seconds passed, Bentley wheeling up to the table and unveiling a map of the world. Wordlessly, the mammals unscrolled it, weights put at each corner. Already, a few annotations had been made. The high mountains of Papau New Guinea and an area of Zebrabwe about halfway between Mharare and the South African border due south of it were marked with large red L’s. An area of Armyeenia, as close as possible to Mount Ararat, was marked with a green tick. Svalbard had a red X on it, and the Pakistan-Afghanistan-China border regions were circled in orange.

“Any news?” Sly asked, looking at it and then up at Carmelita. 

She shook her head. “From what I gather, the Interpol task force has only just started their search. I…” She froze as a screen next to them flickered to life, Kozlov appearing. The bear looked tired and worn, fur falling off in patches and an IV line in his arm. The prognosis was very good but recovery took its time.

“What is news?”

Carmelita picked up the webcam and moved it over, pointing at Zootopia on the map. “Our military… Acquaintances, believe Rattigan is moving south in a stealth drone. Travelling at night, they’re limited by fuel supplies, but have reached around here. She tapped the point in question, then circling the areas he could move to next.

“He after new talisman?”

“That we strongly suspect,” Bentley said. “I understand that you might not have knowledge of any other sites, though Interpol is already doing its best to find the talisman the cultists you encountered in the himalayas originally protected and worshipped.”

The bear pulled in a long breath and let it out, paws rubbing his face. “I… I do not know… I, I know Siz… -Clockwerk once went in arc down, via Caribbean to Brazil? Maybe that location?”

“Haiti would have been to Mz Ruby,” Sly said, the bear looking up and jolting at the sight. He wordlessly crossed himself, mumbling.

“Hey,” Sly smiled. “Fan I guess…”

“You and Inspector Carmelita rid world of Clockwerk menace, in great battle over Krakarov volcano…”

“-Heh, that I did, I…”

“You avenge my brother and so many others slaughtered by great menace!”

“You can say that, yes,” he said.

“World owes invaluable debt to you, Raccoon, ridder of the devil. Destroyer of evil.”

“I… -Tell you what, I’ll give you my autograph as soon as I can,” Sly said, walking around and turning to the map. “But let’s focus on stopping Clockwerk coming back, okay? Every second counts, every…”

“-Da,” Kozlov agreed, sighing and wiping his muzzle down. “He is coming back. You need to be ready.”

“We’re not going to allow him to come back,” Judy said, “We’re not…”

“-You think you can stop it?” Kozlov spoke, cutting in. “I admire you. I do. But face facts. Rattigan know where talisman is, we do not. He take it, move it to wherever he plans to try and take over. He fail, almost certainly, Clockwerk returns. We know how to defeat Clockwerk. Shock pistol, missile, bullet. I do best to get together weapons to defend, we can now bring far more weapon to field. Clockwerk will return, but we will be ready.”

Carmelita nodded. “We’re manufacturing far more shock pistols, much more powerful versions…”

“We’ve even finished the systems you commissioned,” Lt Vixen cut in. “My sister is busy mounting it on an old anti-aircraft truck as we speak.”

“-But if he comes back and gets away, there is a chance he can patch his weakness,” Carmelita followed on. “So we do our best to make sure he doesn’t come back. If the Interpol team in the himalayas can reach our talisman first, we can find the rest, we…”

Kozlov gave a laugh. “Even if you find it in time, you have to work out whatever system Shen had to allow two to work together. Then you have to chase after Rattigan and find him, before he sets up. There is not enough time!”

“-Then what if we bring him back first?” 

The room went silent, all eyes turning to Lt Vixen.

“What?” She asked, Kozlov frowning.

“Are you mad? Are…”

“-No, no, she’s got a point,” Nick said, cutting in. “Listen, there can only be one at one time, right?”

“I presume,” Bentley agreed.

“Exactly,” Lt Vixen followed on. “We find one first, we resurrect him at the bottom of a mineshaft, miles underground, with shock pistols and cannons to keep him suppressed.”

“-And you take him apart?” Kozlov asked, eyes narrowing. “You rip apart his secret and use them on your own weapons? NO!” The red fox opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off again. “Do not take it personally, I would not give it now to my own commanders,” the bear said. “All that would happen is we have new Shen’s. Condemning Clockwerk yet building themselves up as the new one. Wearing his technology, using it. The hate growing, they become what they decry. Is fact. That why Interpol take talisman. Carmelita and Sly, only ones who can.”

Carmelita nodded. “Thank you,” she said, stepping in front of Lt Vixen. “For your trust, for your faith. We will bring him back in his own prison and keep him there, secured off, ready…”

“-Nyet,” the bear said. “Shen got one thing right. Put talisman on rocket, send to moon or out of solar system. Bring him back in space where wings cannot fly, and let universe be his prison for eternity. Where no one may be tempted.”

Carmelita nodded.

“One problem though,” Oates said. “What if he kills himself?”

“Huh?” Kozlov asked, as the others turned to the horse.

“If he works out he’s been brought back in a doomed position,” the horse continued on. “What’s to say he doesn’t… -Auto destruct, so that Rattigan can bring him back again in a better one?”

“That… He would not,” Kozlov began, only for Sly to come forward.

“He would. For all he is and all he’s done, for so long. He’d take whatever pain or humiliation it would be in order to have a better chance getting out with Rattigan. -He pursued my family for literal millenia! He turned himself from an ordinary, flesh and blood person into that rather than give in and just die. And to him, now, with these talismans death is not giving in. No, this plan to bring him back first won’t work. Just accepting Rattigan will bring him back is far too risky. We have to find that rat and stop him. Then we track down the rest of the talismans, including the one the wolf took… -Hoping he doesn’t try to bring him back too. We rid the world of him, once and for all.”

The room was quiet, Bentley moving forward. “We prepare for the worst, but we must not give up on the best. Where could it be?”

Sly nodded, pausing before gesturing down at South America. “Somewhere here.”

“Not here?” Nick asked, gesturing over at the Mojave desert. “Could it be in one of the pueblo’s or…”

“-No,” Judy said, “it’s south of the border.”

“Are you sure?”

“I…” the bunny began before pausing, looking off confused. Any reply though was cut off as another took the baton.

“I am,” Sly said. “Rattigan… When I met him, he was holding our talisman. Complaining to it. About showing jungles or something. -That must have been it trying to tell him where to find another Talisman.” 

“That is not a lot to go on,” Bogo said. 

“Yeah, well it’s the best we’ve got,” Sly shot back. “And with her…” He pointed at Lt Vixen. “We might have a good chance.” He pointed over to Panama. “He’ll have to go down through this area… Across the canal and this… Narrow bit here.”

“The Darién gap,” Bentley said.

Sly nodded. “Listen, if we’re going to intercept his stealth drone, that’s our best shot.”

Lt Vixen nodded. “Even if he’s trying to cut across the ocean, that’d be correct. I can pull in resources, everything we’ve got, two barriers on the way down and two on the way up.”

“-If,” Basil cut in, “that thing about jungles is true.”

“-And even if it is,” Dave agreed, walking over to Papua New Guinea on the map. “Cannibal cultists here…” He raced over to the himalayas. “Same here.” Then Armyeenia. “Devil worshipers here.” He then began scurrying off over the Atlantic. “Wouldn’t it make far more sense, given what we’ve seen so far, what with mammalian sacrifice and stuff… For the talisman to be based here .” He kicked down a foot on Mexigato city. 

“...The Azgats… The temples were broken apart and used to build churches,” Carmelita said. “If there’s a secret temple or anything, it would be found, it’d…”

“-Not be there,” Basil said, turning to his husband. “An excellent deduction, but two minor flaws. One, due to its altitude, Mexigato city is not surrounded by jungle. It’s surrounded by alpine mountains with subtropical highland forest on their slopes, pine and oak. It’s easy to forget that this is all far up and thus cooler. And second, Tenochmiztlian was only founded in the early 14th century. By mountain lions one presumes given the name, despite its later association with jaguars. Far too late to be a site if going on what we believe, however…” He walked over to the Yucatan peninsula. “The Maya meanwhile go back a whole millenia before. The earliest parts of their civilisation easily predate Great Zebrabwe… And unfortunately, there are temples and ruins, often lost completely in the jungle, throughout Central America.”

The room was quiet.

“That’s not even mentioning the cenotes and other caves,” Dave agreed, turning up to the video feed and Kozlov. “I fear, despite the grim prognosis, you are quite correct. We’re going to have to be on the reactive again, we…”

“-No,” Sly cut in. “We can’t. -Listen, the Inca performed mammalian sacrifice too. He might be pushing off into Reino Del Sol, moving on… -There’s got to be at least one of these places in South America, right? I…” He paused, feeling Bentley’s arm on his own, snapping it away.

“Sly,” the turtle said, regardless. “While in all likelihood there is, it doesn’t matter if it’s not the one Rattigan is aiming for. There are too many potential sites we know about in Central America alone, yet alone ones we don’t know about. We won’t be able to get Rattigan on the way out, but we might be able to get him on the way back.”

“If he’s coming back,” the raccoon said.

“Consider the following, Clockwerk wasn’t able to bring himself back because Arpeggio and Neyla’s attempt to resurrect his original body allowed him an easier path of return. He began directing his energy into that, only for your destruction of him to leave him in limbo again. Without enough power to naturally return.”

“So more power must be added,” Basil said, clicking his fingers as he walked forward. “Potentially a massive amount if Rattigan plans to bring him back quickly. Which means, given he assumed he could return him with Kozlov’s talisman, he must have set up his base or wherever in order to do so. We find his base, he returns only to find his plans ruined.”

“If we don’t catch him returning across the Zootopian border first,” Carmelita said. “Listen, we won’t be able to find and capture Rattigan. Clockwerk knows that Rattigan is his best chance to return, even if it involves a battle for survival. He showed the rat where to go in a vision, something I’m certain he wouldn’t give us.” She sighed. “As painful as it is for me to say this,” she said, looking to Sly, Kozlov, Bogo. “We stay in Zootopia. We focus on finding his base, setting a trap for him when he returns, and arming up in case we fail. -And hoping the team in the Himalayas find that talisman first. If we bring him back slowly, keep his weapon systems under control, we might be able to keep him alive and imprisoned underground.” She wiped her face. “That’s it. That’s all we can do.”

“And what if he knows it’s a trap and doesn’t come back?” Oates asked. “We’re all assuming we can force him if we have a talisman. What if he chooses not to?”

“I…” Carmelita began. “It’s a chance we have to take.”

“And what if he can just direct the energy from one talisman and use it to regenerate himself at a second?” Oates continued. “Rattigan might pour in a city’s worth of energy, only for Clockwerk to burst out of the antarctic.”

“It’s a chance we have to take,” Carmelita repeated, glaring up at him. “I don’t like it either, but it’s impossible to know where Rattigan is going, so let’s stop wasting time trying to guess and focus on what actually has a chance. Okay!?”

…

“No.”

“Hopps?” Bogo asked, watching as the bunny walked forward, staring at the map.

“Judy?” Nick asked.

“Rattigan wasn’t the only one to see visions,” she said.

“You… You saw where…”

“I think,” she said, leaning forward and closing her eyes. Pinching the bridge of her nose, ears back, foot thumping. She jumped up onto the table, walking over to the Pacific coast of Mexigato. “When I collapsed from overworking myself, still wearing it at the time… -I think, I think he thought he could take advantage of me, I don’t know, but… I had a dream, flying over the coast. A sandy spit, a lagoon, up into the jungle, and then down. ”

Basil nodded. “That could be on any coast, if anything I’d say it might be Belize or…”

“No,” Judy said, looking in closer and then binkying up and landing on all fours, a claw pointed out on the southern coast of Mexigato, where the land was thinnest. 

“How do you…” Sly began, before pausing as Judy looked up, chuckling.

“Because I saw who lived here. Hares. Lots of hares, or rather rabbits. Jack rabbits. Jackrabbits with stripes, or rather a stripe, on their face…” She traced it across her face. “Like…”

“-Jack,” Lt Vixen said.

“Tehuantepec jackrabbits!” Bentley shouted, bringing up a map on his tablet. “If that’s true, then the jungle you saw was the Chimalapas rainforest.” Judy walked up to it and nodded. 

“Yes… I… I went through there, I dived down into the jungle. That’s where it is.”

“In which case,” Sly said. “We now have as much information as Rattigan has. And, were we to get a fast jet, I’m certain we could get down there first and beat him to it!”

“ That, we can provide,” Lt Vixen said. “And I also have jungle experience, in areas not too far from here. Indeed, I’m pretty certain I now know where the talisman will be hidden.”

All eyes turned to her as she settled down. “I spent time in the Rangers around these areas. Small villages, rodent towns… There’s no maya ruins or such there. Instead, you have bat colonies.”

“Vampire bats?” Murray asked.

“No, they were always a solitary pariah species,” she explained. “These were regular bats forming massive colonies in underground caves. In some cases, just holding on and huddled together like literal cave mammals. In others carving out vast new tunnels, homes, palaces and temples underground. Some of these have existed for thousands of years, the bats inside evolving into unique species with languages and cultures of their own. And many have collapsed or been abandoned. -Disease, war, especially when you had hostile bats facing off against shotgun wielding mammals who’d discovered just how valuable the guano deposits deep inside were. I’ve seen them abandoned, flooded… -Officer Hopps, did your dream include any diving?”

“N-no,” she said, shaking her head.

“I can assume we can rule that last option out,” Lt Vixen said. “But the point remains, we go there, look up records for caves in the jungle, and if there’s one where the bat residents had… -Relatively abhorrent histories, given the location.” She chuckled, the claws on her index finger tapping together. “We might just have our location. We get there fast, with a team of mammals, we go in, we get the talisman out. Bonus points, we get and capture Rattigan as we do so.”

Bogo nodded. “Well, that’s a plan as good as any, though given that I’m a city police chief and not in the position to order, yet alone run, an international operation, this will probably be an Interpol job.”

Carmelita nodded. “Yes,” she said, nodding before turning to Lt Vixen. “And with time of such an essence, I don’t get to be picky with who I choose. You and any suitable crew will be welcomed along.”

Lt Vixen nodded. “I’ll ask command, see who they have available.”

Nick looked up to her. “Hey, is Dave coming?”

The red fox turned to him, finger up. “Well, let’s just say after his performance on the last mission, he’s getting some time off.”

“Probably for the best,” Bentley said.

“-Why?” Nick asked.

“-Thick wool, sheep,” Lt Vixen waved off. “Not the best for hot, wet jungle.”

“Regardless,” the turtle said. “Disagreements aside, we need to jump on this chance right now. Sly and Murray have experience in jungle environments, while I can provide intel support from a secure base. Officer Hopps must come, seeing as she might recognise areas, and…”

“-I’m coming too,” Nick said. “If Judy’s coming so am I.”

“-As am I,” Carmelita agreed. “We’d need one mammal down there who speaks the language.”

“Which language?” Basil asked. “Because if this thing predates Spanish colonisation…”

Carmelita muttered a curse. “It’s… Nahuatl right, the Aztec language? -But isn’t the script untranslatable? Or is it maya? I know there’s still native speakers, we might need to recruit a local…”

“-I think it was mentioned that one of the mammals from the Happytown Heights group was of aztec descent,” Oates began, “If we could…”

“Except that won’t work,” Judy said. “They don’t speak Nahuatl down there. They speak Zapotec.”

A few types and Bentley nodded in confirmation. “So we get there and find a zapotec speaker to assist me going through the records.”

“No need,” the bunny said. “We already have one.”

The room went quiet, Nick looking down. “Do we?”

Judy smirked. “How do you think I knew what they spoke there? Maybe not the best, but he knows some, and the one time I’ve seen him the most mad was when someone asked if he ‘actually spoke literal aztec’.”

Nick began to laugh. “YES!”

“You get it,” Judy nodded. “After all, who do we know whose species comes from this area?”

Carmelita’s eyes widened. “Jack?”

“That,” Lt Vixen corrected. “Is Special Agent, Jack Savage.”

Chapter Text

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.

The cat slowly let her tongue roll up her fur, bushels of shed fibre piling on before she flicked it away, paw outstretched and claws grasping at the air.

She then turned it the other way, looking along the top, before letting her eyes gaze up at the figures in the cells. “And how are my honoured guests this day?” she asked, purring as she strutted forward, the tiger and lion by her flanks holding back as she advanced. Her former allies, now guests, stood back in their new abodes and kept their gaze off her. But her little play thing? The one her beloved had tasked her to crack. She purred. Their eyes met. She leant down and dove forward onto all four paws and then leapt, slamming into the cold bars and gripping them tight, face thrusting through. “Doctor Billy Silv…”

She didn’t get to finish her statement, leaping back as a flying kick swung out at her, the cat pushing off and out only to feel bone and the blunt knuckles of his claws slam into her, her nose stinging as the world tipped over around her.

The lion and tiger raced forward, the entrapped William Silverfox stepped back, raising his arms into a fighting stance only for a dull rolling chuckle to cut them all off.

Felicity, lying back on the floor, one paw over her bloody nose and the other up to hold off her escort, laughed.

And laughed.

And laughed.

Chuckling as she got off the floor, wiping the spilling red liquid from her face and eagerly licking it up, the odd purr coming out as she did so.

William watched on as she finished cleaning up and then, her nose still flowing, walked forward, tongue occasionally coming out to lick up the new gift she was giving herself.

The fox just looked back, blankly.

“-I like a mammal who makes it a challenge,” the pallas cat smiled, smirking. “Who understands that it is a bit of play that makes life spicy.”

He was silent.

“-You know,” she said, glancing down at an outstretched red paw. “It’s not very polite to give your hostess the silent treatment. Hmmmm? And after I treated you so well?”

He exposed a slight scoff, a wicked grin growing across her muzzle.

“Now come on… -Though I suppose you don’t actually know what being a prisoner of mine is like, hmmmm? I can assure you here and now that if you cooperate, you’ll be safe. You’ll be there when Rattigan brings in a new dawn. As will your two new friends.” She smiled, waving over at them. “We just couldn’t let them run away, let their impatience ruin what will be the greatest moments of their lives. Honestly, we’re the charitable ones here. Me, my Ratty… -And all we ask for you is a little help when he gets back from his important business trip down south. Old languages to be decoded, ancient…”

Dr Silverfox scoffed. 

“Oh…? What’s so funny dear. I thought you’d love to look at those pretty pictures, to…”

He broke into laughter, shaking his head before finally levelling it at her. “You’re asking me to decode something in Aztgat petroglyphs or something? To help with… What, whatever brought back this Sly Cooper? Well, even if you could convince me to help you two monsters with that, it’s… That’s so far away from my field of study it’s absurd. There’s no guides, no….”

“Oh, but what if there is?” she asked. “A study was released a few years ago…” She pulled a book out, dropping it by his feet. “Deciphering Azgat Hieroglyphs, A guide to Nahuatl Writing. By Gordon Whittuskter,” she smiled. 

He shrugged. “So there’s a book, you do it.”

“You’re the languages expert,” she smiled.

“-Ancient species specific languages of Asia Minor,” he said, glaring at her. “Me translating Nahuatl script would be like a botanist studying squid.”

“So more qualified than an artiste, ” she smiled, taking a bow. “Besides, you’ll be getting the honour of decoding a different language. Ever heard of Zapotec…”

The fox burst out into laughter, shaking his head. “Now that script is long lost. It makes Azgat look like Egyptian in comparison.” 

“Oh,” she purred. “I am so glad you made that comparison. Because what if I told you there was a Rosetta stone.”

He stayed silent, but she could see his ears perk up just a little.

“I’m not sure how much you know of the underworld in Zootopia,” she said, looking out and studying her claws. “Of the great crime families, united once in their envy and snobbery over the rise and power of Rattigan. Mr Big was the most distasteful, he still thought he owned Little Rodentia, after abandoning it for Tundratown. Even after clawing out our dominion and forcing him to accept our ascendancy, we saw the disgust he laid down upon us. The resentment at us, for our existence. And for him and his self-hating envy we pulled out the rug and let his empire fall, around…”

“-That was me!” Came a shout from behind, Foxy Loxy speaking up. “Those were my achievements! My…” 

He was silent as the lion went over and raced into his cell, the fox trying to make a break for it only to have his muzzle clamped and then taped shut. Felicity looked over, face ever more flustered and claws massaging over her chest. “Just do his yapping jaw and sneaky paws,” she huffed. “Once I’m done, hold him up against the ceiling, and bring me more tape.”

She turned back to Dr Silverfox. “And as I was saying before that little brat needed an attitude adjustment,” she smirked. “Big got the most humiliating treatment, his house of cards falling around him and sent to live in a cell like a common caught criminal. But for others… Lang, oh she betrayed all crime stands for by leaving the game. I have plans for her , and her many children will play the starring role. The school talent show to end all school talent shows. And as for the last two crime lords, Rocco Peccarri and Vladztoz Fangpyre…” She smirked. “The closest we came to acceptance was a visit down to Castle Fangpyre. The tour of his prized possessions, artefacts, his heritage…” 

She smiled. “I thought we’d bond over that. A mutual understanding of the beauty and holiness of what his great culture once knew more than anyone . Enough of this modern squeamishness, this belief in the sanctity of life… -Well, they understood the true value of the sanctity of life. Of spilling of blood. Of bringing those small and weak and insignificant, and taking them to up to something more special and beautiful than they could ever imagine. Ending it on a high note. Of the artistry, the primal beauty and glory, and just how much more could be done. New species, new methods, new art…”

Dr Silverfox just looked at her.

“He… Does not know how to embrace his own culture, as I found out,” she said, shaking her head. “Shame, that his own self hatred led to him viewing that as a faux pas on my part. The fun we could have had. -But, during my tour, I had found something of interest.” With a smile she gestured to the lion, who brought out a long scroll of paper. Unwrapping it, Dr Silverfox watched as he saw a picture of a stone unveiled. Pictograms, in three groups, small but detailed. 

“Maya, Azgat, Zapotec,” Felicity smiled. “The Fangpyres are the last native literates of the original nahuatl script, but it is the latter I would be interested in. Should be easy for you, especially as we believe that many of the codes Rattigan is after will match up with a set found at the Niedelines site.”

“That’s impossible.”

“No,” she said. “That’s Clockwerk, god of cosmic power and genius, wasted on angst and melodrama.” She began bringing out a pile of books and records, pausing as she brought one out and pointed out his name. “Make sure all are translated, and when Rattigan returns he’ll have records in Zapotec. Records that translate across. The instructions we need.” She smiled. “I’m sure you’re bored here most of the time. Pass the time, why don’t you?”

He looked at her blankly. “Because I’m not going to. You can subject me to whatever degenerate hell you like, I’m not going to help you or him. Honestly, you can all go to hell. You’ll fit right in.”

“A shame,” she tutted. “And it’s not hell. Or disgusting. We’re mammals, evolved of flesh and blood, from flesh and blood. Of war, of violence, of the fine line between life and death. One and the other, two sides of one coin. Yet for all we embrace the sparking of it, we’ve forgotten how to embrace the snuffing of it. Even though the two are one and the same, inseparable, and deep down, we know that. And we can try and forget it. Ignore it.” She walked forward, pressing herself against the bars again, one down her chest and soon wrapped around by her legs. “Or we can liberate ourselves and embrace it.” 

She held on tight. “That’s what the truest artists do,” she said sliding, down then up. “To so much praise. Don’t you see it?” Down then up. “Don’t you deny it!” Down then up. “The killer awoke before dawn. He put his boots on.” Down then up. “He took a face from the ancient gallery.” Down then up. “And then he… He walked on down the hall.” Down then up. “He went into the room where his sister lived.” Down then up. “And then he paid a visit to his brother.” Down then up. “And then he…” Down then up. “He walked on down the hallway.” Down then up. “And he came to a door…” Down then up. “And he looked inside.” Down then up. “Father?” Down then up. “Yes, son?” Down then up. “I want to kill you.” Down then up. Down then up. “Mother,” Down then up. “I want to…” Down then up. Down then up. Down then up. “I WANT TO!”   Down then she screamed and yowled and cried out loud. Cried out loud. Cried out loud. And carried on and shuddered, slowly sliding down. 

Down.

Down.

Down.

“We’re the same you know,” she panted, chinning the bar. “Both endeavouring to expand the frontiers of what we know, of experience, of discovering the far lost past and building upon it. When we’re done, after all, the glory of great Tenochmiztlian shall walk again, and the small and insignificant will climb to the top of new pyramids… They’ll catch the blue bus, yeah the blue bus. Their last moment, their most glorious as they take their turn at the paws of the high priestess to appease the vengeful god. Come on foxy… Take a chance with us… Take a chance with us… ”

The fox looked at her in disgust, the bloody faced feline gripped to the pole, thrust in and sliding up and down.

And she gave a pouty frown. “I take it you’ll not be honoured if your family get chosen to rise up there? For their bodies and minds to be new canvas for new masterpieces.”

He scoffed. “You can’t pull the threatening my family ploy any more. Let me guess, they’re in ZPD witness protection. Away from you, all of you. Safe. And you’ve played all your cards.” He glanced over at the other two captives. “Burnt all your bridges. Killed or lost all your remaining allies. And nobody is going to come to your side anymore.”

She withdrew, smiling. “Ah, they never go for the easy option. Nice.” She gestured to the big cats around her. “Carry on as planned. -Well,” she said, looking at Foxy Loxy, paws and muzzle taped up. “After some fun first.”

Dr Silverfox shimmied back so he couldn’t see what was coming next. While he had no care for her victim, she didn’t want her to have any satisfaction an audience might give her. 

“-Oh, Dr Bill?” she asked. He remained silent. “I can always gain new friends and helpers. You can thank your son for that. After all, he’s made himself some delightful enemies.”

.

.

.

“If I was writing this, I’d complain about how contrived this was,” Jack shrugged, walking on with Skye and Lt Vixen into an aircraft hanger. Already, mammals were assembling, getting together the gear needed for the upcoming operation. A private jet stood waiting, the Sly gang with their van off to the side, Bentley, Sly and Carmelita looking over a set of maps before looking up, eyes focussing on him.

“Well,” Skye said, coming in close. “It’s not like we don’t know where you come from. And I suppose we’re lucky that you’re not writing it. You know, even though we’re doing something we swore we’d never do again… -I’m looking forward to meeting your people.”

“-Half people.”

Skye’s ears flicked back. “Ah, sorry… Is it…”

“No, no,” he shrugged, smiling. “I’m happy too. I get to meet my abuela again!”

The swift fox smiled. “Sounds good.”

“Well, you’ll get plenty of time to get acquainted while we…”

“-No,” she said, the hare taking a pause. “You went out alone last time, risking your life… -Not this time. I’m coming along too.”

“You don’t…”

“I want to,” she said, looking at him. He nodded, managing a smile before being called off by Carmelita.

“Señor Savage.”

“Inspectora Carmelita, tenemos que dejar de reunirnos así.”

He took her paw and kissed it on the top, standing up again and nodding. “How may I be of service.”

It was Bentley who got straight to the point. “We believe Rattigan is heading to the chimpalas rainforest, above the isthmus of Tehuantepec, in order to find another working talisman. One that will be in an abandoned bat cave. We need to fly out there, research the local area in order to identify where the site might be, and either find the talisman before Rattigan gets it or apprehend him. Both, preferably, but for now let’s focus on the former.”

“And you want a zapotec speaker, yes?”

“Exactly,” Carmelita said. “To what degree do you know the language?”

He looked around. “Miles ahead of anyone here, beza.”

“So we gathered,” Bentley agreed. “But are you fluent…”

“Enough to hang out with kits and adults,” Jack said. “But doing original research? I know that going around asking about bats might get you directed to some confused skunks, and that any mention of dam activity might point us to our evil owl, but you can hardly expect me to go through ancient petroglyphs. Nobody understands what those mean, and we were at the fringes of what civilisation there was there anyhow.”

“That is very much true,” Bentley said, nodding. “Which is why it’d be much more likely to be recorded in oral tradition, hopefully transcribed in latin script. Tales, legends, stories told to kits at night to warn them of birds of prey that might snatch them up, things…”

“-Wait a second.” The hare looked off in the distance, clicking his fingers. “Would… -What about a story of a city of bats that made a pact with a blood eagle, to make themselves the most feared of all?”

“That could be it,” Sly said, leaning forward. “Go on…”

“That’s it,” Jack said.

“What do you mean that’s it?” Murray asked. 

“I mean, that’s it. No more.”

“No more you remember?” Carm asked him.

“No. No more, my abuela told me once those words, pointing up at the jungle hills or something. That was it.”

“Well,” Lt Vixen said, looking down at him. “I would say it’d be likely that she might know more.”

“Or that’s all she heard as well,” Skye countered. 

“Either way,” Bentley cut in. “If we don’t ask her we won’t find out. Besides, we needed a local contact, there’s a local contact who will help us. Jack, do you know her favourite things?”

“Uh… Flowers, heirloom seeds, -oooh, these sweets made out of cactus pear. Why?”

“While I’m certain we can rely on the helpfulness of a kind little old lady, this entire mission is too critical to leave to chance. Hence the provision of a massive bribery and charm fund.”

Jack nodded. “You’re staying there to provide intel support, yes?”

“That is the plan.”

The jackrabbit gave a knowing look to Judy, a flash of lapine realisation between them as he turned to Skye. “Get busy reinforcing and fiddle-proofing that wheelchair, he’s going to need it.”

Before the swift fox or turtle could reply, Murray responded. “Oh don’t worry, I’ll do my part. I think.”

“While you’re there you will,” Sly smirked.

“-Hang on.” All eyes turned to Lt Vixen. “The hippo is coming up into the mountains?”

“Yeah, why not?” he asked.

The army vixen looked over the gang. “This is intense jungle terrain. Dense, thick, and that’s before we arrive at the cave itself and go exploring. All that time, Rattigan will be out there too. He could get the jump on us at any time, but he doesn’t expect us there so our best bet is to go small and light, preserving our stealth advantage. Logistically speaking, for Murray to assist we’d need to demolish a path through the jungle to get him up there.”

“Well hang on just a minute,” the hippo said back. “What if you need someone to move a boulder or something? I’m the strongest here, apart from Tigress and maybe Po. It’s all well and good talking about you little guys until you need some real muscle.”

Lt Vixen just blinked, glancing over and seeing Po and Tigress off in the corner. “They’re coming too?”

“Yeah.”

“And their qualifications are?”

“Badass kung fu warriors and newest allies of the Cooper gang,” the hippo responded.

“-You vet and include your civilian helpers,” Carm said, looking up. “I do mine.”

“If you insist,” the army vixen said. “Regardless, my point still stands. They’ll use most of their effort getting themselves up to the site…”

“-Except for the fact large mammals already got themselves up there,” Jack said. 

“...I thought you said that was all you knew,” Bentley said, crossing his arms.

“-Okay, I remembered a different bit, but it was a very different time she said it. Or the teacher said it. -The point is that there were some guano wars up in those hills. You know the basics of those?”

“No,” Skye said, Jack turning up to her.

“Okay. For most of history bat guano just piled up in the base of these caves, often leaching out through drain tunnels if they had one. Some more advanced ones made the bats go outside, most didn’t. The Spanish came, nothing happened inside. Then mammals began realising what good fertiliser it was and once you had basic trains and stuff you could start moving it. The first caves, near big farm areas or ports, either signed away the rights for free… -Hey, someone offers to take thousands of years of your crap away for free, who are you to ask questions. OR they realised it was valuable and charged rent as it were. Some of these colonies got rich off of it. However, demand grew and as the easy colonies were emptied out, mammals had to go further into the jungle and mountains to find these caves. And the bats all knew this was valuable now, so they thought they could charge what they liked. Many negotiated down and came to agreements, others just fixed it too high. After all, what could mammals do? Come in with a posse and try to shoot them?”

He gave a laugh, arms in the air. “You’d get some who tried that, only to get swarmed, often with poison weapons. So that was how it was, until the posses worked out that special suits and newly invented shotguns worked very well. The wise colonies at this point saw the writing on the wall and gave what they had away for a fraction of its worth or less. Some who’d been proud before and battled were humiliated, and were forced to pay for the sewage extraction as it were. Some provinces even passed sanitation laws, saying that like normal mammals have to pay for sewers, they had to pay taxes to have their guano removed. It wasn’t like they could move it themselves.”

“And some of these colonies…” Skye began.

Jack nodded. “There were some up in those mountains who refused ANY interference by the outside world. Two hundred or so years ago, a group of prospectors went up there on behalf of the province to negotiate the new sewage law. Free sanitation, as it were. Most bat colonies complied. Again, clearing out generations of crap, in most cases having that taken away for free would be a good thing. But some? They launched an attack on the mammals, killing some. So militia were raised, there was a war. Some surrendered, some fought until they were gone. Entire cultures… Potentially entire species.” 

The room was quiet.

“-Well, Clockwerk cultists, who needs them right?”

All eyes turned to Sly, the raccoon shrugging.

“What?”

…

“Okay, maybe a bit harsh, but can you blame me?”

“-Wait…” Skye said, turning to Jack. “Once the guano wars were done, they’d have built tramways to get the guano out. Which we, and larger mammals, could use to get up there.”

“Exactly,” Jack said, turning up to Lt Vixen.

The army fox shrugged. “Makes sense. If not, they could still be useful as guards for our resident hacker here. In any case though, there’s plenty more we need in terms of supplies. Food, medicine…”

“-Antivenom,” Jack cut in. “I’m not going unless we have fer de lance antivenom.”

“Duly noted and agreed,” she said. “Shotguns.”

“Shotguns?” Carm asked.

“It worked on bats, it’ll work on a rat too,” she said. “Or have you got sentimental?”

Carm’s ears pulled back, a slight tick on her muzzle before she shrugged it off. “-I pride myself on bringing in mammals to face justice. -Even if some monsters can only be put down… I’ll talk with Barkley about uprating this to a licence to kill. I don’t have to like it, even if I agree with it.”

“That’s the spirit,” the other vixen chimed. 

“Also means things get a bit more awkward in case you try and scoot off with the talisman for military experiments,” Carmelita said, crossing her arms and tilting her head a little, an eyebrow raised.

“Please,” the army vixen scoffed. “You’ll get your raccoon boy to pickpocket it and then do your thing.”

“Sounds about right,” Sly agreed, joining up with the interpol fox. “I mean, it must take a lot of hubris, thinking you can play with Clockwerk and not come out burned, destroyed, ruined. You’re nominally on our side, so I suppose that is a positive, but if I have to save some mammals from their own foolishness then so be it.”

“You act like we don’t know how to kill him again.”

“You act like there’s any worth in bringing him back. -I mean, from your perspective I suppose you want his weapon technology, that would be useful…”

“-And not explore his body for room temperature super conductors?” she shrugged off. “Use his shielding technology for advanced civilian aircraft? Discover whatever energy source he used to power himself on his long night flights? -We bring him back and dissect him, we might find a working mini fusion reactor in there. Boom, world saved and every petro-dictator in a pile of deep cuss.”

“-Yeah, no. Sorry, not worth the risk,” Sly cut in, pushing in front of Carmelita and starting down the army fox.

“-SLY!” Bentley shouted. “Carmelita! -And you!” He pointed at Lt Vixen. “Will you three stop with this interdepartmental rivalry stuff. Okay sure, I agree with the whole scientific endeavour and discovery thing. I also agree with the don’t cussing touch anything to do with Clockwerk thing. -And based on advances in magnet technology we’ll have a fusion device within the decade anyway. -But right now, let’s actually stop this stupid squabbling and get out there and stop this!”

He shouted it out, Lt Vixen, Jack and Skye stepping back, even as others came in closer, attracted by the commotion. Nick, Judy, Po, Tigress… Sly made to speak only for Bentley to give him a death glare, slowly pulling off his glasses and putting them on the table. “Because the more we delay, the closer Rattigan gets. The more we delay, the more we play into his hands. And the more we delay, the more the person who finally convinced me I could share the rest of her life with is out there, brainwashed, on the run, broken and needing fixing and forgiving.” It was difficult to tell due to his hard shell, but by his breathing the others could tell he was gasping in and out, in and out.

“I’m sorry,” Carm said, looking up at Lt Vixen. “We get this done, and…” She shrugged. “Ten second headstart and we see who gets it after.”

“Why ten seconds?” the army fox asked.

“Ask him on the plane,” she said, gesturing at Sly.

Finally, the raccoon spoke. “Sure, yes. We’re flying out tonight, right. Get moving, get packing, what else do we need?”

“I’m waiting on some detection systems to be finished,” Lt Vixen said, listing them off. “And some more fake talismans too. General supplies as well.”

“Good,” Bentley said, going back to his screen before glancing up at Jack. “Anything else you might know? However non-relevant it seems right now.”

“No, I…” he paused. “Only… -I’ve heard there’s a lot of gang activity, up in the mountains,” he said. “Cartels, even small war lords, that kind of thing, it shouldn’t…”

“We can arm up with regular guns too,” Lt Vixen said. “Just in case.”

“Well, now that you mention it, you better,” Bentley continued, tapping away. “I had a report from Thief net that one band of criminals in the jungle, under a figure known as ‘The General’ had started moving south, towards the area. While it could be just a coincidence, we don’t know who Rattigan has contact with. And he has a lot of cash at the moment to hire mercenaries to do what he wants.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Sly agreed. “Anything else.”

“Yes,” the turtle replied, gesturing to Carmelita. The vixen slipped a paw into her pocket and brought out a toughened metal box, opening it up to reveal the cracked, coppery glint of Kozlov’s broken talisman, nestled within a cradle of soft foam.

The room was quiet as all of them looked over the item, Judy slowly walking forward.

Nick reached out a paw, holding her back.

“No,” she said. “Listen, I… If I see it again…”

Clapping the box shut, Carmelita nodded. “Indeed, as far as I know, there’s no risk to Judy touching it again, trying to see if she can see more information and… -Yes Po?”

“Uh, yeah,” he smiled. “What if it lies?”

…

“Or just gives a misreading of the truth, I think that’s what the seeing stone thing did in the Lord of the Rings, make it seem like things were so bad the good guys would lose hope.”

“-Yeah,” Murray agreed, turning down to Bentley. “And what if it snitches on us to Rattigan?”

“Rattigan doesn’t have one anymore,” Carm said.

“-I know that, but what if he gets to this bat one first and it warns him we’re on our way.”

“I…” she began, looking down to Bentley.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “They have valid points. And valid comparisons. For all intents and purposes, you could consider this as the One Ring. It has a mind of its own, it wants to return to its master… -Or see its master return. Point is, it could work and show whatever it thinks serves Clockwerk the best. -Still, we know it’s fallible. And everything I said was loaded with a ‘could.’ But if we keep that in mind, those of us with a connection to it could glean what might be critical information. I say it’s worth the risk.”

He looked up to Sly, the raccoon looking unsure. Then annoyed. “Okay, no, I disagree. We leave it.” A few others started talking among themselves, Sly flicking to them, but his eyes returned to Bentley’s, the turtle focussed on him. “Okay, what? ”

The room went quiet, all eyes turning to the pair as Bentley wheeled himself around to look the raccoon in the eyes. “Sly. I will forever consider you a brother. I spent much of my childhood mastering skills far more complex and unfathomable than advanced mathematics and quantum physics. Tact, tone, not killing the mood, reading the room and so on. I did so because I wanted to be the best friend and brother I could be. I still do. But my patience is limited, and I think it’s time I leave the standoffish passive aggressiveness and heavy subtext to the vixens. I’ll be exceedingly blunt Sly. We know you encountered Clockwerk in the past. We know that whatever it was, it hurt you. Scared you. You came back and have refused to talk about the elephant in the room. Well I’m sorry, for our sake, for my sake, for Penelope’s sake. We need to know. Now.”

Sly stared at him, silent, emotionless. “I found him, I fought him, I beat him. That’s it.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Sly said, a snarl growing on his muzzle.

Bentley glanced over at Carmelita, the vixen holding back. “So,” he said, “no issue with touching that, seeing what you can see.”

He scoffed. “No,” he stomped a foot. “I’m not… -I’m not touching that, I’m… -Nothing happened between us in the past, other than a battle, pain, pain I do not want to feel again. You, all of you, you’ve never been hurt by this monster, you’ve…”

He was cut off by Bentley loudly clearing his throat, gesturing down at his wheelchair.

“-That’s like Po here having a heart attack and falling on me,” the raccoon waved off. “It’s not the same. It’s…”

“-Then why did I see you?” Judy asked. 

Sly paused, turning to her. “What?”

Judy closed her eyes and took a breath in. “Seeing Jack’s performance for the first time, I was wearing that thing and saw the sarcophagus you came back in. There… There was a figure, it must have been you, throwing me away. I felt rage, betrayal, pain, I…”

“-I remember that,” Nick said, looking at Sly. “Listen bud, I know this must be hard…”

“No, you don’t know anything,” Sly cut in, shaking his head. “Come back when you saw your pleading and begging parents being ripped apart and electrocuted in front of you, powerless, scared, confused, not knowing why they had to die that night. Come back then, Wilde.”

“But still…” Judy began.

“-You’re probably mistaking me for someone else, or it’s lying to you,” he waved off. “This is Clockwerk we’re talking about.” He turned to Carmelita. “Can we really trust any of this stuff…”

“We’re trusting it enough to bet everything on it,” she sighed, “Sly…”

“-Ah, you too huh, though I do suppose I deserve that one. What about you Murray? Et Tu?”

“Uh…” The hippo began stepping back. “I… I don’t like any of this, okay? I get it, Clockwerk, super scary, and…”

“-Yeah, understatement of eternity, “ Sly cut off, turning back down to Bentley. “I’m not going to rub Penelope in your face, so don’t rub Clockwerk in mine, okay?”

The turtle remained quiet, eyes not making contact. Carmelita came in, as if to comfort, only to get the cold shoulder. Sly just huffed, starting to make his way out…

“-Wait.”

He turned to see Judy walking to Carmelita. “Let me try first.” She gestured at the box and opened it, paw reaching out to touch the talisman.

A second passed.

Then a few more.

She pulled it back, shaking her head. “No, nothing.”

The room was quiet. “Can I have a go?” Po asked, leaning down and touching it. Eyes closed… “Come on, come on, I know he was a bad guy once but some Panda King awesomeness, please?” He pulled away. “Nothing…”

“Is it dead?” Tigress asked.

Carm just shrugged.

“What if we try to annoy it?” Po asked. “Hey, bird brain, you uh…. Uh…”

“Lost,” Sly said, marching over and staring it down. “You lost, everything you built is gone, everything that is left of you will be found and destroyed. Every day that remains, every night, I’ll be there making sure that what I started, I’ll complete. You hear that?” he asked, finger coming down and jabbing it with a claw. “That’s!” He jabbed it again. “A!” Again. “Promise!” One last time, pushing down hard for good measure, and then he screamed.

He shot back as if hit by lightning, clipping the table with a bang and sending it tipping over, even as he flailed back, splitting the air with his howl. Tigress snapped up and grabbed him in a paw, spinning around to absorb the shock only to let go as he kicked and screamed, dropping to the floor hard on his tail, paws clutching his head and tearing at it. All as he screamed, screamed out and out and out, shaking backwards and forwards as Carmelita and Murray raced over to hold him. Raced over to try and get a grip as he retreated into a foetal position, tipping over and almost collapsing to the ground were it not for the others holding him. Even then, his legs kicked out frantically, his body shook and trembled, his head tipped back and forward, back and forward, his ripped out voice growing hoarse from lack of air or burning out his vocal cords, they couldn’t tell.

His eyes started dead ahead, fixed on the floor, wide, red, moistening.

His mouth hung half open, teeth bared.

He slowly went silent amidst the calls and reassurances, still shaking, still trembling, even as Po brought over a chair and they helped him up.

Not that he lay into it, limbs stiff.

Seconds passed.

Then minutes.

A second round of screaming started up again, quickly dampened.

In the end, he finally spoke.

“Stupid…” He grit his teeth, eyes welding shut. “Stupid idea, who’s idea was it…”

“I’m sorry,” Judy began, only for him to thrash out.

“Well thank you,” he tried to snarl, his voice shot. “I really needed to see that…” He got up onto his shaking feet, paws rubbing frantically against each other. He was a mess, fur on his head ripped out. “I…” He coughed. “I really…” Tears began to track down from his eyes, the raccoon shaking his head. “Excuse me,” he spoke, starting to make his way over. Murray followed.

“Don’t worry Sly, I…”

“-Get lost!”

“Sly?” he began, moving faster, only for Sly to dart to the side, grab a chain and race up it, fast.

The hippo was just left there, standing at the bottom, watching him alongside the others as the racoon raced across the rafters and then out an open roof light.

.

.

“God,” Judy began, burying her face only for Carmelita to step over.

“Don’t worry, it…”

“-It was my fault for pushing it,” Bentley said. “We needed to know what happened but, it’s clear Sly doesn’t want to…” He sighed. “He can’t go on the mission, not in that state.”

Tigress looked over. “Are you sure?”

“Murray and I remember his screaming night terrors, back in the years after his first encounter with Clockwerk,” the turtle said, shaking his head. “Even if he’s committed to the mission, that’s too much of a risk. He stays here. I’ll stay with him too, he needs a friend, and I can replicate my usefulness for the mission with a satellite phone.”

“I… -Are you sure?” Murray asked. “I can stay too, I…”

“The mission needs strong mammals,” Carmelita said. “You come with us. We can stay in contact through Bentley. -Po should stay too.”

“Huh?” he asked.

“We can’t rule out an attack on those of us left behind,” she said, her features softening. “Besides, I have a feeling you’re good with mammals in distress. And your wife is still dealing with the loss of her father.”

Po thought for a second, before nodding. “Right.”

Carm nodded, turning to Bentley. “We can still make a play up here, just like your army mammals can at the Darien Gap and the Panama canal if we’re wrong,” she said, looking at Lt Vixen. “Either way, as much as I hate this, waiting for Sly to recover is a luxury we don’t have. We have one advantage against Rattigan, we can not squander it. Vamoss!”

.

.

.

.

The room was silent as the bear sat and waited. 

The giant otter next to him, still tiny and harmless in any real sense sat behind him. He’d offered a paw, words of comfort. The bear had half expected him to give one of his long meaningless rants about how ‘the business’ wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

He might as well have been talking about good fur care regimes for white furred mammals for all it meant.

Still, he was glad that things had subsided down into a long silence.

With a jolt, the door in front of them opened, a few mammals walking in. An argali sheep chief amongst them. 

“Timofey,” he said, placing down a box. The bear paused as he saw the item placed on the top, a band with a heavy unit placed on one section. “-Goes around the ankle,” the warden continued. “You’ll be expected to stay at the two event sites and then your mothers house. If you want to go anywhere else, phone in…” He passed along a scrap of paper. “-If it’s not too unreasonable, it should be cleared. We’ll be picking you back up midday monday. And I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” the bear huffed, reaching down and moving the ankle tag out of the way. A cheap set of formal clothes, black and dour. He stretched his arms up and over his neck, claws working at the zip and starting to undo the baggy prison suit.

A hoof on his arm froze him in place. “You don’t have long left here,” the argali warned. “The worst thing you can do for your mother now is make it so that’s no longer the case. Understand?”

“Da,” he said, plainly. Inoffensively. As you always did to those in the cop business. The prison guards left him to have some privacy and he got himself changed, eventually tying the strap around his ankle.

And with that he was guided out, out through the front doors and to a waiting bus, stepping on and settling back. A few seconds passed and they were off, moving down through the forests and hills, slowly making their way back towards the city.

At first he kept his eyes down, not really caring for the same kind of scenery he’d spent the last few years stuck with. But as they slowly began to return home, he couldn’t help but let his eyes look up.

Watching.

Waiting.

To see any sign of what had happened.

He knew something had, he’d heard it whispered, spoken about. He supposed that the prison officers were counting their blessings that they’d all been in lessons when the transmission had gone out. -After all, school holidays were one of the many rights reserved for law abiding cubs. There’d been some rumours, in one class one kid had come back in yelling about something, only for the teacher to shut him right down.

And then they were told it was back to their cells, and they were locked up for the next few days.

The television system cut off.

He was certain they were all counting their blessings, that it hadn’t been a hot weekend day, maybe a rainstorm outside and everyone huddling in the cellblock. Eyes glued to the screen.

Their charges united in righteous fury.

They could have overwhelmed them. Broken down the fence. Gotten out. 

But that was never part of the plan, was it?

Not even at the main jails, so he’d heard.

Not one mention of mutiny or anything in the news reports since, just the pain of clearing up, and their lashings out at those who had gotten the better of them.

His eyes kept watch as they moved through a tunnel, emerging into the white lights of Tundratown. The snow all around glistened, on the turn as the sunlight grew. There didn’t seem to be any sign of the masses of tents that had been used for those who went to the city centre and never came back.

Finally they pulled up, a small rocky shore outstretched in front of them. The driver gave a few words, the bear walked out. Into the courtyard, other bears waiting there, standing around. They looked at him, looks of sympathy, paws offered or words said.

He nodded, waved, shrugged…

And froze as he saw her. Old, tired, dressed in black, eyes moistening. He walked to her and she raced to him, gripping him tight and rocking him. He’d let her have it. He firmed up his wobbling lip as his mother fussed over him. He’d let her have this one.

They didn’t share many words after that, now wasn’t the time. Instead they walked up and, after a tap on the shoulder and a few words, the young bear walked away. Joining in with three others, they walked to a waiting hearse and undid the curtains.

He saw his father there. Dressed up in the suit he’d wear when going off to discuss business, all cleaned up. Yet the fur on one of his paws and that side of his face were torn up and ripped, traces of blood still visible despite the efforts to clean it. Bandages peaked out from around the clothes, many more were likely present underneath.

To hide what had happened.

The young bear looked on, confused. He knew his father had died fighting during the great mission, but he thought that was a cop or gun wielding local. This…?

He didn’t know, but it wasn’t time to find out.

Instead he helped guide the gurney he was resting on out, eyes flicking to and away and to again his fathers closed ones. The way his face looked… Pained? Angry? Surprised.

Like this wasn’t how he was supposed to go?

Like someone had pulled a dirty trick on him, rather than give him the honourable death a bear like him deserved?

The thoughts wormed around in his brain as he knelt down and helped shoulder the burden, walking his father over to the waiting pit that had been dug, piles of stones lying around. His mother sobbed as his father was placed down in his shallow grave, the bear walking back and joining her. 

Words of comfort were spoken, of pride. Of how Osip Krovstoit was a proud bear of honour, a made mammal, someone who’d been loyal to the end. Words were spoken, signs of the cross made.

And slowly the faithful leant in and began piling the stones up and around him. Never on him. Instead cantilevering them over, his figure slowly starting to recede. One stone after the other, Timofey got a look at his father then turned away. At him, away from him. At him, away.

Until he brought one last stone up and held it in his paws, trying to work out where it should go. The tomb was almost complete and only a small image of the bear could be seen, all of a sudden questions rising in the young bear. Not just about what had happened, but about everything. Anything. Favourite song, favourite colour, what he’d been up to his age, how he and his mother had met, had there been anyone else, what was his proudest achievement back in the family, was he proud of…

A stone was laid over his face, the bear left lingering there until a slight cough caught him unawares. Looking up he could see the others looking at him, waiting. He looked down and placed his stone down, the last stone, capping it all off.

They stepped back, looking on at the cairn that rose over his father.

One of so many all around, big and small, nestled in this stretch of TundraTown just like they were scattered like stars across the true high north.

And with that they left, his mother guiding him along into the car.

She driving.

Him by the side.

Alone, in peace, for the first time.

“How did it happen?” he asked.

She glanced at him. “I thought you knew.” He shook his head. “He was fighting on the night of the big take. Rattigan’s project chaos. He died.”

“I know,” he said. “How did he die?”

She looked at him blankly for a second before her face firmed up. “Like the strong bear he was, battling…”

“Something ripped him up, like a shotgun or…”

“-Maybe he was hit by a shotgun,” she sighed, looking down. “The filth at the ZPD won’t tell us of course. I can’t blame them though. They know Rattigan and our might would bring justice to those who did it?”

“So the rat does not know either…”

“I don’t know.”

“So he hasn’t told us anything?” 

“Not yet…”

“Where is he then?” Timofey asked. “This great new boss? Where…”

“It takes a lot of effort to be the big boss,” she scolded. “You saw what they managed that night, it takes a lot more effort to manage this. I had to juggle my loved ones funeral, and getting the insurance sorted on the shop!”

The young bear blinked. “What do you mean, insurance on the shop?”

“It burned down…”

“-What, the plan burned down the…”

“Timofey!” She barked, causing him to freeze, if still simmering with anger. 

“I… I lost my freedom defending that shop. Teaching mammals not to mess with us. And if it is just… -Not just father, but the shop as well, leaving the mammals who did this…”

“Our mammals burnt down the shop.”

He froze, face slapped with disbelief as his mother leant over and put a comforting paw on his arm. “With no enforcers needing to offload money on overpriced art, everything was nearly worthless,” she said, smirking. “Or rather, worth far more for the insurance than as was. So, new boss Rattigan allowed us to capitalise on this.”

“You let the shop burn?”

“Ha, I hide anything of value, then help them as they light it up!”

Timofey stared at her. “So you let me go to jail for what… Nothing!?”

She gave him a sympathetic look. “What you did was right thing for that time, what we did was…”

“So where is this Rattigan?”

“Busy,” she said. “Besides, we don’t question big boss, he…”

“-Has best interests in heart?” the bear asked. “Da. Like Bigs, like little Fru Fru who left us out to dry like fish thrown out of water. Like Kozlov…”

“-DON’T mention that name,” she hissed, making him jump back. She glared at him before turning down and spitting on the floor. “He real traitor, he just have to give up one thing but no. And my dear Osip have to chase him so hard, he end up dying to do it…”

“Kozlov killed papa?”

…

“No,” she sighed. 

“Then…”

“Friend of Kozlov, I don’t…” She turned to him. “Papa fought in war, died in war. But war is won. We are good for next few decades.”

“Then what?”

“I have enough…”

“What about me?” he asked. “If there is no business left, if Rattigan just takes all he has and runs…”

“He will not, he will build back greater than Big ever was…”

“Did he say this?” Timofery asked. “Are there plans?”

“-I have faith in him like he has faith in us,” she said. 

“...Then where was he? He could have cracked open the jails, but there was nothing. The business is gone, there will be nothing. I will have NOTHING! ”

“...You’re getting out so soon,” she said. “It wasn’t worth…”

“And when I do get out?”

“You go into the business.”

“There is no business, not anymore.”

She looked at him before huffing. “Fine, you get to play video games all day. Or you get ordinary job, like ordinary mammal.”

…

The bear just looked at her. Ordinary mammal? Ordinary job? Like… What even…

They were cut off as a sudden flash of blue broke through the back screen, the whoop of a police cruiser screaming out behind them. Flicking her turn signal, his mother wrenched the car to the side, sliding to a sudden hard stop.

The police cruiser halted behind them, a few large mammals walking out. She looked over to see a horse officer lean down, tapping the side of the window with a hoof.

“-Very classy of you, pulling me over on the day of my husband's funeral,” she hissed, pulling the window down. “And if it is my son’s ankle tracker, then maybe you should make them better.”

“Ma’am,” the horse said, flashing his badge. The words Detective Oates were printed on. “I will say, you are right there. It is to do with your son’s ankle tracker.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Timofey saw a mouse standing on the horse's shoulder, pressing a button. And then a speaker began playing out, the sound tinny, unclear, but unmistakable. 

“You let the shop burn?”

“Ha, I hide anything of value, then help them as they light it up!”

“Now,” the horse began. “Given your current circumstances I am feeling very gen…” He was cut off his mother roared, slamming the car door out and into him before leaping out, jaws out wide and reaching for the jugular. The horse let out a panicked whiny, leaping back, hoof slamming into her nose to push it away only for a claw to come sweeping down.

A prick and an electric buzz cut through the air, his mother screaming as she was shocked down, the horse pulling himself out and away as a set of tranq rounds hit her.

She collapsed to the floor, wavering, the horse and two other officers racing up to grab and cuff her. “Melissa Krovstoit, you are under arrest for conspiracy, insurance fraud, arson, assault of an officer and resisting arrest, you…”

Timofey just looked on blankly as the scene played out in front of him, his mother mammalhandled up, her widows dress and such torn, the damn horse making some stupid aside comment about how she could have just told her everything she knew about that damn rat and she could have carried on to the wake…

Finally daming himself for letting them do that to his family, his own mother, not stepping in when she needed it he reached down to undo his belt and made for the door, only to find a different officer bracing it shut. He roared, turning back, only to find the same done on the other side.

“Sir,” one of them said. “If you co-operate we’ll return you to custody, even write a recommendation for…”

On they trailed, the bear just simmering with anger.

Wanting to punch them out.

Only not doing so as he knew not to give them anything more.

Eventually, paws up, he was led out and into the back of a different cruiser. They didn’t cuff him. Instead, they took him back the way he came.

He’d now lost his mother.

These filthy, evil little dishonourable mammals had used him against her.

He wanted to take the tracker and its inbuilt microphone or whatever off his ankle and use it to choke the life out of them. Out of Rattigan. Out of whoever killed his father. Out of that damn horse, staring him in the eyes all the time. Out of Big and Fru Fru and out of Kozlov himself.

The prison mammals gave him space as he dressed back into his uniform, as if they knew that a single movement could cause him to blow.

Back in the cell block, he marched back and in, moving out into the yard to try and work off some of the rage. They didn’t provide any boxing equipment or anything, so he grabbed a basketball and hurled it at the wall. It bounced back and he caught it, hurling it again, and again, trying to hit it so hard it would burst against the wall.

In the end, he got bored.

Only a fraction of his anger released.

And so he paced.

Again, others knew not to come close.

His stared this way, that… Only freezing as he looked across the chain fence and into the yard of another block, a woodchuck sulking there before scurrying off at the sight of his glare, as if he were about to charge through the fences and rip him from limb to limb.

-Honestly, that might not be so bad. He and many others had figured that that pathetic wretch of a mammal was the one who’d stitched up the fox they’d had for a week or so, the Anonymous Vulpine as most mammals had known him.

The bear spat.

That had been a mess.

Here he was, the mammal who led the damn cellblock, and the biggest thing to ever happen to it? He’d gone and just missed the big grand ending.

He wasn’t even there during the last bit, when some others, the worst, had been guided into doing some disgusting filth. To try and make sure that however short his stay had been, prison would change him.

Typical.

He’d grown up to be a mammal in the business. The business was gone. He’d gone to prison for defending his family, its shop, its honour. Burnt down regardless. Tried to manage everything, didn’t matter.

Maybe that was why he hadn’t really worked that hard on dealing with the filth that were left in his block. That hare and that wolf had had some enforced extra, extra long freezing showers, not like they didn’t need them. But after they’d started earning extra years on their sentence… 

He just sat there, looking out.

It really was stupid and meaningless. Here he was, stuck in the deep place. A drowned out audience member to his own life.

The thought lingered over him like a miasma.

He barely paid attention to anything else.

Barely ate anything at dinner.

Barely cared as he moved back into his cell and lay down.

…

…

“What the…”

He stood up, looking around. Some… noise… Was coming in. Was it a scratching, or…” He walked over to the cell window. Tough, metal framed, with a perforated metal grill in the section that could be opened up as it was now, to try and let some cool air in.

Looking down he froze. A tiny hole had been cut through, too small for him to even fit a finger through, but big enough for whatever that was to be threaded in. And it was making a slight pinging noise.

He reached in and pulled it through, examining it. A tiny earbud, a long stretch of wire, a small microphone, what must have been some batteries. Looking around, he stashed it away before retreating to his bed, sticking the earpiece in and holding the microphone close to his mouth. “Hello?”

…

“If this is the cops, you cannot get me for this, this is…”

“- Entrapment, ” came a new voice. Female. “ And you’re right to be suspicious, what they did at that funeral was evil. It only makes me want to liberate everyone they captured, past and present, even more. ”

“I… Who are you?”

“ Felicity. Felicity Pawker, the great lady behind Rattigan, and the one in charge of biting the ZPD’s baculum off while their pants are down. ”

“You’re… You plan to get me out? My mother…”

“ And many more, ” she said. “ Just like before, give them so much they can’t come close to handling it. And in your case, I believe there’s some mammals whose escape will scare them far more than you ever could. If they manage to be free, good on them. If not, it still gives you a bigger chance. ”

“Right, right,” he said, nodding. His heart was beating fast, he leant in closer.

“ We still need to get the planning done, find out where they’re weakest, ” she said, tapping something out on a keyboard. “ I… I believe the Anonymous Vulpine was held at your facility, right? ”

“...Da.”

“ Good. I heard he didn’t have a fun time here. Can you tell me more? ”

Chapter Text

Chapter 7:

.

.

The female bear glared across the metal interview table, paws cuffed in front of her and a scowl etched on her face. Sitting by her, her lawyer, a giant anteater, was slumped over, taking a deep breath in and out as the door opened and Detective Oates walked in, Detectives Basil and Dave Dawson on his shoulder. He handed them down, letting them arrange themselves on the desk as he pulled his chair back, sat down, and looked over at the bear.

She turned her face away, folded paws pulled back as far as she could before the chain attaching them to the desk was pulled taught.

“Good afternoon, Melissa,” Basil began.

“-That is Mrs Krovstoit, mouse,” she said, raising up her own name and brushing away their species.

Basil shrugged. “Very well. Mrs Krovstoit, I’d like to apologise for what must have been a very traumatic day for you…”

She cut him off with a snort of a laugh, carrying on aloof and proud as ever. “Ha, so you are going to let me go? Grovel at my feet and wipe clean my claws with your own tails and spit?” She turned down, leaning forward and looming over him, shallow breaths billowing out warm and moist over his fur. “Nyet, I think this is just the same old weasel words of you and your cop friends, enjoying your little power trip.”

“We’re not quite that generous,” Dave chuckled, “but if you hear us out.”

She spat down, the mice skittering back as the gob of saliva crashed down where they’d been, spray thrown up into their eyes and fur.

“Alright lady,” Oates yelled, his chair clattering back as he stood up, a hoof out and pointing at the bear. She looked up at him, her scowl fading away. “I think we can slip on another little charge for that somewhere, can’t we? It’s making for quite a fine list that you’ve picked up, isn’t it?”

She shrugged, sitting back. “You tell me.”

“Insurance fraud, conspiracy, resisting arrest, multiple assaults on an officer.”

“I suppose they are so small I could have drowned the rodents, though maybe they should accept that as occupational hazard. Honestly they’re asking for it.”

“Bold words for a mammal in chains,” Basil huffed.

“Bold words for police force relying on mice to do mammals work.” Her eyes narrowed. "My husband and his mammals really did scare you. Didn’t they? Showed you what real mammals could do. Showed you what the strong could do. And here you are, thinking you can scare me with them.”

“Well, maybe I can scare you with the years of prison you have lined up right now,” Oates said, shaking his head. “And what we can do with your boy.”

Melissa smirked.

“Out after serving his sentence, for his overzealous defence of the shop you helped burn down, tragic really,” the horse carried on. “Lost his father, his mother taken from him, nothing to show for anything. Though I suppose we can ensure he gets a good placement in the foster system. Some bears far away from you and what’s left of the rotting whale carcass of the mafia. Drill into him right from wrong, cleave him away from your dead end path, make him learn and resent every part of how you’ve raised him. He’ll be an entirely different cub altogether.”

“Nyet,” she said, trying to bring up a claw to study it. “He is a real mammal, as I am too. Honour, respect, things you’d already proven today so very well that you and your scum friends do not have. After arresting grieving widow on the day of her husband's funeral, you are already at the stage where horse like you who has whored himself out to stallions would be step up , but go on, entertain me. Just how sordid and scummy can you truly reach?”

“Ah, well,” Oates smirked, leaning in. “We have uh, backchannels. And word of mouth can get around. Word in the force is that your boy handled that traumatic experience we caused rather well, it’d be a mark in his favour when he comes up for parole. Anger management and all that. Alas, retellings and all can change, bit of chinese whispers and all…”

Finally, the lawyer spoke up. “-And I will personally bear witness to this attempted intimidation and threat both in my clients defence, and at any parole hearing for the young Mr Krovstoit.”

Basil looked on as he spoke, glancing up at Melissa as she idly stared in the other direction, rolling her eyes and miming some of the words he was saying. Finally, as he finished, she turned to Oates. “As if you think my boy would not take it on his chin, hmmmm?”

“-You don’t care?” Dave cut in, catching the attention of all in the room.

“Things are the way they are, at least I have the grace to know that and not play pretend little one.”

“I…” the portly mouse began, before his husband took over.

“So you won’t even listen to our carrot against his stick?”

“What use does a bear like me have for a carrot? While for real mammals like us, sticks… -They build character.”

“Right then,” the lithe mouse said. “So, just throw away an early release for your boy. Throw away us looking the other way at some of the charges, all of them maybe, throw away us even letting you go back out, to the end of the wake. -They still think you’re just in for questioning over a suspect in your husband’s death. You could even go away with the truth to that, hmmmm…? And I’m sure you think your pride is important bu…”

“-Da,” she said, “unlike you.” She leant forward again, her white mass looming like a brooding supercell over him. “It seems past analogy with your horse friend was adept. You and rest of the ZPD really have no dignity.” She smirked. “I think you lot enjoy taking it up under the tail.”

“Oh more than you would ever know,” Basil smirked back.

She gave him a disgusted look. “So tell me, are you this eager to whore yourselves out to me? Or is there something you want from me? Something equally pathetic, weak, or…”

“-Information,” Basil said. “That’s all. Everything you know about Rattigan, your husband's dealings with him, the whole list going down. Everything you can give, that we can filter through for puzzle pieces, scraps. So we can find him, and make him pay for what he did to this city, our mammals, your husband.”

She looked at them, her face slowly curdling before she raised her nose away. “So you really do wish to whore yourself out. And you expect me to climb all in? Nyet, I would not even touch that. I feel for your mothers, I really do.”

Oates chuckled. “Here, I’m guessing you’re gonna want to look at these.” He pulled his lips back, revealing his teeth on full display. “ Better yet ,” he spoke through them. “ Punch them out, though I can thank that chain there for stopping that. ”

“Are you going to lift your tail up for me too?” she snorted. “Though I’d then grab a furbrush and do what your mother should have done. By end I could hold you up at street junction and stop traffic.”

“Mrs Krovstoit,” Dave said, walking forward. “I understand you and your people take honour, duty, respect seriously. In many ways I admire that. I honestly do. But the key thing is, it goes both ways. If this was Big we were trying to get you to turn on I truly would understand it as, for all his evil faults, he took those tenets seriously. But Rattigan doesn’t. He never has, he never will, and quite frankly by doing this for him you have your tail higher up than…”

Melissa growled, the sound echoing out like low slung thunder, the fur on all mammals in the room spiking up at the shock. Her breath huffed in and out, short and deep, teeth starting to peak out and jaw trembling like a spring snare ready to snap. She swallowed it down, paws moving up to straighten up her fur and clothes only to jolt far short at the end of their chain. She let them settle down and looked away with almost shut eyes. “Let me tell you how this goes. You ask me to whore myself out, say everything I know. I do, I give you all I know and it is a fragment of what you want. And then?” She shrugged. “You leave me inside to rot, nothing changed. And all I have done is debase myself.” She stared down at them and shook her head back and forth.

“-We could arrange a set of standards,” her lawyer suggested, “you give a rough idea of what you might know and we bargain something. For instance, dropping the assault charge and…”

“I know nothing,” she spoke, firm and with confidence.

“Ah,” Oates cut in, “says the lady who was a key part of a money laundering operation at one time, now you’re telling me…”

“-In our world, the men are ones in ‘the business’ . Do ‘the business’ . And women like I? It is not in our business to get involved in that of our fathers, sons and husbands. It is not in ours to ask, to question, to sit idly by while they discuss it and to fuss or worry over it. It is their’s to do. Ours to not know about. That is how it is, though I would not expect police force relying on mice to do a mammal's job to get that.” 

She gave a short harrumph and turned down to her lawyer. “I think we are done here. I expect they have new clothes and accommodations for me. Let what must be done, be done.”

“I…” the lawyer began, only for Oates to cut in.

“You really don’t like these guys, do you?” the horse asked, smirking as he gestured at the two mice detectives.

“Nyet, I just accept them as the irrelevances they are.”

“Irre…!” Basil began, only to be hushed off by Dave as Oates leant in.

“Not so irrelevant given that it was their plan that got you into this mess.”

Her lawyer advised her to stay quiet but Melissa spoke back. “And is it fitting that tiny mammals like them resort to something as pathetic as all this. You ZPD, you bring in simple bunnies and tricky foxes and mammals like them so small and useless they have to resort to most revulsive of tricks… And you expect me to respect that.”

“Yes,” Oates said, a smile growing on his face. “Just like you respected Big.”

She glanced away.

“Oh, you don’t like that do you? The awkward truth, huh? For all your talk about how pathetic these two mice are, how something so small is beneath your station, how you don’t even owe them their weight in respect. You gave that shrew, that lil’ old shrew half or less the size of these guys mountains of it, didn’t you?”

“He earned it.”

“Hah, say that to yourself, say that to yourself. All as you remember how it used to eat at you. Gnaw at your flesh, bones, body, your own poor little heart, here you are the largest carnivore on the planet at the beck and heel of the smallest. The weakest. Acting as if he were the one who could crush you with a single motion of the wrist.”

“He earned it,” she hissed.

“Ah and those two did not?” Oates asked.

“He’s…” the lawyer began, only for Melissa to speak straight over him.

“-Nyet,” she scoffed. “And if you think you can just, take the piss like that, be so disingenuous…”

“-And what about Rattigan, hmmm?” 

“Same as Big.”

“Oh really huh?” Oates asked. “I mean, you do realise that it was Rattigan who brought down Big?”

She barked out a laugh.

“No really, made counterfeit tax documents, the inspectors went in and by the time they realised that was false we’d uncovered enough dirt to make you look like one of your black cousins from the Yukon.” 

She mimed out a few mocking yaps, not that it stopped Oates.

“Either way, he just walked in and you all clung to that rat like a liferaft. Didn’t you? All the bears who had anything going for them, skills, intelligence, those the Bigs actually respected, they were safe. But you, your husband, your family were just the crud settled down at the bottom of the barrel. And don’t you know it. ”

“Fru Fru betray…”

“-Oh you can say anything you like about what she did,” Oates scoffed. “Don’t change what you did. Put all your faith in a rat.”

“He earned our respect…”

Oates let out a braying laugh. “Oh really, huh! Did he respect you bears, your husband, when he sent them on a car chase that crashed up the whole downtown of Tundratown. You great bears not even able to catch a mother cussing real-life Laika! ”

Her muzzle twitched. “They don’t build cars like…”

“Nah, they don’t thank god and you know it,” Oates smirked. “What was it you said? If you think you can take the piss like that. Be so disingenuous like that … -Though I’ll give Rattigan credit, that was all on you. Unlike the Kung Fu Temple. The one known for its famous firework displays. Maybe not so much the kung fu mammals but… -Honestly, anyone not half blind could see that coming. Rattigan sent your husband there expecting them to use their fists, right? Against mammals with the biggest store of gunpowder in the city and a lifetime of martial arts training? It was a slaughter. He knew what was going to happen, he…”

“He sent them in with all they needed,” she hissed.

“Ah, fair enough, it was just your husband's incompetence then…”

“Shut up!”

“-Ratty had guns! Guns he didn’t give them until after!”

“He was saving them for the time!”

“What time?”

“You know!” She growled, banging the table so hard the mice toppled down onto their tails. Her lawyer reached out, tried to tell her to calm down, only to get forcefully brushed aside.

“-Yeah, the big one,” he smirked. “You know he stole hundreds of millions in gold bullion? Have you seen any of that huh? A sliver cut off, enough to last your family a lifetime. You lost your husband for three or four years worth of insurance money! That’s it!”

“My husband died fighting like a real mammal!”

“What, against real mammals?”

“Yes, against the ruthless merciless agents your ZPD could send against him! Against the elite, sent to hunt down and slaughter as revenge after you lost. After you couldn’t bear how we showed you up!”

“-You mean the jackrabbit, right?”

“What, your token bunny did not…”

“No, no!” Oates said, jumping up with a flourish. “A hare ! A civilian hare! -Your great hero husband and real mammal was sent to fight by Rattigan! Sent to fight against a family of foxes with three kits, one of who’m didn’t exist last year, and died trying to kill a civilian bunny! ”

“DON’T YOU LIE!”

“A bunny who used to work in a theatre!”

“My husband would never let bunny shoot…!”

“-Well he didn’t shoot to kill your husband!” the horse said, dropping to the floor and rifling through some files. “He died from a dropped grenade!” He jumped up and threw down a mortician's report. “His own grenade!” 

“MY HUSBAND WOULD NEVER DIE LIKE THAT!”

“Tough luck, he did!” Oates yelled, slamming the paper with his hood. “Look at it!”

“I don’t deba…”

“LOOK AT IT!”

She shook her head viciously, Oates laughing in response. “You don’t need to, you know it’s true. You just hate that I’m piercing through your pathetic curtain of denial and getting to the painful golden nugget of truth.”

“ Shut… Up! ”

“Your husband was pathetic!”

She roared, lunging for him. The mice jumped clean off the table as the horse held up a hoof to stop anyone outside coming in. 

“He was led to his death by a rat who thinks he’s a mouse… -Yeah, how degenerate is that, huh? And who didn’t even give him guns when he needed them. And when he did they were so bad he was killed by his own weapons while failing to kill a tiny hare!”

On she roared and bellowed, in between screaming about how Oates was a little bitch, a pathetic wimp, a coward, a piece of cuss.

“And all this time you know, you know that Rattigan is laughing on his golden throne! In his palace in the rainforest, with golden spider silk robes and jewels and…”

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP! PIECE OF WHORE’S SON! YOUR MOTHER WAS A WHORE YOU GELDED TRASH! AND WE AND RATTIGAN ARE GONNA CUSS YOU UP! HE’S GONNA MAKE YOU BEG IN FRONT OF HIS MACHINE THRONE FOR MERCY. HE’S… HE’S GONNA CRUSH YOUR HEAD ON THAT COLD METAL FLOOR! HE WILL TAKE THOSE METAL TILES OUT AND SHOVE …” She broke out into a pant.

“Metal tiles huh?” Oates asked. “What, that’s what he’s using the gold for…”

“They are iron, strong iron hexagons that he would take up and push down your tailhole if you did not enjoy that sort of thing! You are trash, worst trash in world, my son is ten thousand time a man than you are, your mother cries in shame every night at what a pathetic thing her son is. You… You…” 

She let out another roar, then a few set more lines of curses, insults, on and on.

Eventually, she calmed down enough for Oates to ask a question. “So you do know some stuff about Rattigan, huh?”

She glared up at him. “Maybe I overhear discussion? That is all. Husband and friends discuss what or where Rattigan might be. -In fact, I tell you everything. He sat on edge of some big yellow pipe thing with lots of little pipes and valves on it, all over floor made of big metal hexagons. You see, you see all I know? You feel like big cops now?” She let out a sneering laugh. “Is your mother gonna put this up on fridge door? Chief gonna put star on star chart?”

“Nah,” Oates said, stepping up and waving her away. “But I think you’re going to be spending the foreseeable future, in time out .” He turned to the window, winked, flashed a smirk… And a speaker up in the corner of the room fizzled a little.

-Before playing out Roger Donkey’s scream from the end of ‘Won’t get fooled again.’ ‘-Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww…..’

Oates folded his arms and walked out the door, grooving to the tune, the mice following on behind. Outside, they quickly made their way to the observation room. Kii Catano and Chief Bogo stood there, the latter speaking out. “I want to make this clear. Despite my attempts to stop it, someone was fast enough to fulfil Oates’ rather juvenile request.”

Catano’s mouth hung open as she glared up. “Oh really, I… -Says the one struggling to not smirk!”

His lips struggling to not curl upwards, he looked down at her. “We at the ZPD have an image to maintain. The higher up we go, the more we have to maintain it.”

“By throwing the one who actually said it was juvenile and didn’t want to do it under the bus?”

Now the Chief was unable to not smirk. “Kii, sometimes I feel you’re too good to be a cop. -Regardless,” he turned to Oates. “At the very least, we now know that Rattigan needs an internal decorator.”

“If I may…” Basil began. “-By the sound of it, he was using an industrial site or facility as a base of operations. I’m not sure there are many places that align with what she described.”

“And you know some places that do?” he asked.

“Alas… No, but by both researching, and using this information on leverage on the many other bears we’ve caught, we might peel away more information. It’s a start, at least.”

“-As for her?” Catano asked, glancing back in.

“If she wants us to throw the book at her,” Oates said, “then I’m afraid I’m a sucker for a fine lady, as I’m inclined to more than fulfil her request.”

.

.

.

.

“Okay, okay everyone, twenty minutes left,” Carmelita said, watching on as the goods and supplies were slowly being loaded up into the private jet that Barkley had managed to hire out for them. She worked her claws into her forearm, turning back to the video screen, the badger speaking back.

“ We intend for a larger squad to be deployed to the area shortly, but what with all this paperwork and stuff and getting across the Atlantic, it’ll be a few days before they arrive in. ”

The vixen nodded. “Are they trained in air drops? If we could direct them straight into the forest…”

He shook his head. “ They’ll have to make whatever long trek you made too. -Though we are arranging two bats to be in the squad as well, they could offload and rendezvous immediately, assisting with your cave exploration. -You say that army fox has spelunking experience?”

“She says she has ‘some’, enough to tackle anything ‘not too crazy’. Still likely more than anything Rattigan has.” 

“I suppose that’s all we can ask for. See what you can do to begin with, worst case you hit a roadblock and have to wait for our two professional cavers to make the full trek up. ” Carmelita almost interjected that there were plenty worser cases, but held back. “ I also suppose we could arrange for a supply drop to be released onto your location as they fly past, though it’d be too big for those bats to guide down directly. Still, a short trek and you’ll have more shock pistols, food, medical supplies, jetpack… -I want it back. ”

She rolled her eyes. “At least it would cut down on what we have to bring ourselves. -Though if something were to go wrong with the drop and Rattigan’s forces were to…”

“ -Well that’s why I’ll forward you a password to unlock the box, and not set off the jetpack autodestruct system. ”

Carm nodded. “Though we might find the job done before any of this becomes necessary. For better, or for worse.”

“ Well, ” the badger nodded. “ If what you say is serious enough, that’s the way it is. -And with the news of these contra mammals moving in as potential allies, I don’t think we can risk contacting local law enforcement over the issue. ”

“It’s that bad down there?” the fox asked.

“ It only takes one, ” the badger huffed. “ And as you said yourself, surprise is your biggest advantage. ”

“Sí,” she agreed. 

“ Of course I have complete confidence in you, and that you and the Zootopia law enforcement volunteers will show those military pests who the real deal is. ”

The vixen managed a smile. “Yes, though I wouldn’t go as far as asking for an attempt to play hero and save her life or anything like that.”

He nodded. “ Just the one going, eh? ”

“Yes, and she has good field medic training and past experience in these kinds of conditions, so I’m not going to complain.”

“ Ha, well, as long as the military command isn’t going to thrust any of those Delta Fox pests on us and what not, all the better. Best of luck, inspector. ” 

“Indeed,” she chirped, the pair saluting as the video link closed down. Carmelita turned off the computer and packed it up, making her way over to the waiting Learpard Jet, the mammals outside starting to assemble. Lt Vixen was already there, conversing with the pilot, and turned to the approaching interpol vixen. 

“Anything to report?”

“Interpol will be supplying us with additional forces and resources, due to arrive a few days after ourselves. The former will have to make the same trek we do, but the latter, and a few bats, can be airdropped down. -Either helping us, or taking out any enemies if they try and break into it.”

Lt Vixen smiled. “And the kits who might find it strung up a tree and abandoned a few years after the fact?”

Carm opened her mouth to protest, before turning back down to her phone. “Point… taken.”

“It’s nothing personal,” she said. “As I’ve said before, I’ve had experience in these villages and mountains. Seen the people around, and admittedly only fought the wildlife, but… -Regardless, if the exploration of the caves proves difficult some bats we could trust would be ideal. I was thinking of trying to see if there were any local ones we could hire in, but I don’t think we need to stress over that too much.” She pulled out a clipboard, signing a few things off. “-Though if we hear of a few who’ve explored all around it for funsies, they can add as many zeroes to our cheque as they wish for all I care.”

“For as much as they’d gripe, I’m certain both Barkley and Bogo would agree with that,” the inspector vixen agreed. “Good thing you’ve offered to pay for it.”

The army fox let out a little smirk. “I have to keep your mammals in your place, after all. Indeed, I’m rather happy to say that you can notch that up another level. Command have assigned a former colleague of mine to the mission.”

“Who?” Judy asked, the vixen shrugging.

“I don’t know which one, but I’ve put out a request to the various crew I’ve worked with before asking if any would come on. Short notice, which makes things difficult, but any help is welcome. They uh, have an unfortunate past with interpol…” The army fox couldn’t help but let her tail circle around into her paws, fussing the end of it. “But I am certain by-gones can be by-gones.”

“Well,” Carm groaned. “Though I’d like anyone other than one of your Delta Fox operatives, I suppose as Winthorp isn’t here, it doesn’t matter too much.” She looked up to see a slightly confused look on the bunny’s face and carried on. “-Personal assistant of mine, excellent administrative mammal, though his field record… Leaves a few things to be desired.” She glanced over at Lt Vixen. “In particular, an interaction with a bunch of mercenaries attempting to supply bugged weapons to rebels in the Congo… Who, from what we gathered, had their own extensive list of organisational errors.”

“Let us just say it was a rather spectacular SNAFU,” Lt Vixen carried on. “Which led to multiple injured interpol mammals, which in turn led to a very capable team getting rushed through the legal system and locked up… -Until I stepped in and quite legitimately overturned their convictions.”

“And I presume it’ll be one of them who’s joining us, right?” Murray asked, walking up as he and Tigress carried in a crate of supplies.

“I presume so, yes,” Lt Vixen filled in, bringing up her paw to list off. “We have one of the deadliest pistol shots in the army, a high speed explosive expert, a panda who could more than make up for the one we’ve dropped in a brawl and then patch anyone else up after, a drone pilot who could probably take down Rattigan’s one by himself if he caught up with it, two french mice whose penchant for sabotage can make any boat owning environmentalist break out in cold sweats, a killer one-eyed weasel, an even killer fluffy white bunny, and Simon VanDal.”

“Just… Simon VanDal?” Judy asked.

“You could have a one-legged grumpy ‘too old for this stuff’ lateral planning challenged raccoon instead?” she smiled. “-Either way, it’s very short notice but we’re not going to punch a gift giving horse in the mouth, right?” 

“I suppose not,” Nick said, walking up. “And if you trust them, I guess…”

He paused as Lt Vixen’s phone rang, the fox bringing it up and speaking in. “Uh-hu, Uh-hu, thankyou.” She tucked it away. “He’s here, and they’ve stated that they’ve brought a large number of supplies, in particular medical ones, with them.”

“So it’s the panda?” Murray asked. “Better not tell Po about it, he might get seriously jealous.”

“Ah, from what I’ve seen of him it’d be more fanboy central,” Lt Vixen said, turning away to see a minibus driving up. “Gohin Jujigun: Marksmammal, brawler, combat medic, expert on the Yak-uza crime syndicates, slaughterer of the once dreaded Shisigumi mafia in one night. While all of those are certainly impressive, I’d say that his medical expertise is probably the most important part of all of this.”

The other mammals gathered around as the bus pulled up, rear doors facing them and opening them to reveal…

Nick blinked before throwing his arms out into the air. “Hey, it’s Dave!”

The sheep, wool trimmed down almost to his skin, turned to face him, smirking a little, before that smirk increased as he saw the shocked looks on various mammals there, in particular Lt Vixen. Turning away from Nick, she looked back at him, straightening out her clothing. “I… -I thought you’d uh, retired.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, stepping down. “But I mean after seeing the cussed up cuss that Rattigan caused, such as mass cannibalism and slaughter and the destruction of much of the inner city, all so he could destroy any sense of authority and rob everyone blind… -I left a note to some of the higher ups handling my demobilisation saying that I’d be up for sniping that rat from a distance or something.” He glanced over at Judy. “I think some of you can probably attest to my sharpshooting skills.”

The bunny recoiled a little, shaking her head before a look of disgust grew over her face.

“-Anyway, on one of your superiors calling back and mentioning that there was going to be a hunt for that rat in the jungle of mexigato, I thought I might fight the good fight, you know what I mean… -Any chance we can buy a latte before we take off?” He glanced at the Learpard jet, humming. “That or an M16 and an ImbRam gun.”

Skye nodded, before walking up to him. “Yeah, uh… -There’s a snarlbucks about fifteen minutes walk that way,” she said. “You can go get one, drink it on the way back.” 

He paused, nodding. “Sure. And that’s totally not a plan to take off without me, is it?”

Skye let out a nervous laugh, glancing off to the side as Nick walked forward. “Well, Mr Dave, I must say. I’ve experienced some mammals with some highly negative views of sheep, -guess it makes some sense as I’ve had some encounters with some sheep with highly negative views. -But yeah, thanks for coming. The more mammals we have fighting this fight the better. Come aboard, I’ll even order that latte for you.” 

He led Doug onto the plane, everyone else staring at him, before Tigress spoke up. “I’m assuming there’s something I don’t know going on.” 

“That would be putting it mildly,” Judy said, glancing at Carmelita. “You just had to jinx it, didn’t you.”

“Sí,” the vixen said flatly. “Seems I did.” All as a goat who’d been driving the van walked up. 

“He’s down to three standard issue ankle mounted shock units, they’ll trigger if he steps outside a very broadly defined area. -Feel free to call command to adjust it, he’s got a basic microphone monitoring him as before, and here are three emergency triggers if he plans to act up.” He passed one each to Carmelita, Lt Vixen and Judy.

…

“So, uh…” Tigress began, as Lt Vixen turned to the others, looking just a little bit flustered.

“Not what I had planned, but still… An extra medic come experienced sharpshooter isn’t the worst thing, correct?” She gave a long gaze at Carmelita, then Tigress. “And you have all had experiences with collaborating with morally questionable individuals -with vastly fewer safeguards, am I correct?”

“What exactly did Dave do?” Tigress asked again.

“Do you want the list now, or in the air?” Carmelita asked.

“Now…”

The interpol vixen nodded, turning to Lt Vixen. “And for the record, this delay to the mission is on you.”

.

.

.

Dr Silverfox looked out into the blackness of the room, waiting. 

Waiting for that humming cat to make a move. Interact with them. Try to freak them out or something. Instead, she’d just sat on her couch, face illuminated by the bright screen of her laptop, as she’d typed and researched. On and on. 

More recently she’d been laughing.

Purring.

He could almost swear she was giving him more aside glances, though he didn’t rise to it.

Instead he just sat back and meditated. Knowing full well that she couldn’t touch him, because she needed him. And she couldn’t touch his family, as they’d be safe. Secure. Out of their reach.

“I’ve been making friends,” she said, as he turned over to see her right next to the bars of the cell, looking at him. 

“Do you think I care. If anything, I feel sorry for them. After all, look what happened to your last friends.” He gestured out to the other cells, the pallas cat giggling.

“Ah, that’s just a bit of tough love. Something only the best friends can give. Anyway, it’s interesting to me, that you would call yourself friends with this mammal…”

She turned the screen around and his eyes widened, a shiver of fear running down him before he cut it off, at first with a rising tide of anger and then a smothering cover of calm rational thought. “Whatever your plans are with here, it’s a moot point. Meaningless. My family are under protection, out of your touch. You can’t harm them. You can’t harm me.”

“Ah, police protection. Like what you were under?”

He scoffed. “And they’ll be under exactly that level of protection, and you’ll be able to pull off the exact same trick you did twice in a row. You really think mammals are that stupid?”

She smiled, shaking her head. “No. I think enough of them are though,” she giggled, turning and walking off, phone out as she watched the latest dik-dok video.

.

.

“So I think a lot of this criticism of this new ruling can be traced back to…” The lynx held for a moment, sharing a look with the spectacled bear sitting across from him for a second, a slight grin growing across their muzzles before the ursidae offered an answer.

Leaning forward, she gave a sneaky look as she spoke into the shared microphone. “Good old fashioned speciesism?”

They both burst into a chuckle, the lynx nodding a few times, paws twirling over each other before he carried on. “-I mean, the facts are that predators have a harder time in school, we’re held to much higher standards, and we are discriminated against. And the most simple but often most painful way is when we’re accused of ‘threatening behaviour’.” He held his paws up giving air quotes.

A flashing after effect ‘THEORY’ title came up over him before vanishing.

“Not that they call it that anymore,” the bear said. She rolled her eyes. “It’s just ‘common etiquette’…”

“Uh-hu, ‘being considerate’,” the lynx nodded. “Though that’s…”

“-When they’re not being subtle?” the bear asked, the two breaking into a chuckle.

“No, no,” the lynx carried on. He shuffled forward in his chair, glancing into the camera. “I think most prey mammals will just think ‘hey, we’re not being mean, we just don’t want a pred bully going around saying they’re gonna eat our children.’”

“Uh-hu,” the bear said. “And I know we…” She shook her paws between the two of them. “-We all remember the first time when a prey kid got scared of us or said ‘I don’t wanna play, she’s gonna eat me.’”

“Bunny?” the lynx asked.

“God…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “No, a… Hmmm, I think it was a porcupine…”

“Not very tasty.”

She broke out into a chuckle. “Ha, ha, yeah. I mean come ooonnnnnn… -You think anyone would want to get past those spikes?”

The lynx nodded along. “Yeah, and I’ve heard city bunnies come up to me and say things along the lines of ‘oh, well we all remember when a predator said they used to eat us’. -So, maybe there is some commonality there. But to say we just wanna let pred kits free to do that is just stupid. What we’re talking about is how a predator might just ‘show his teeth too much’, or a teacher might say they’re flashing their claws around, or making threatening sounds.” He sighed a little, brow furrowing. “And I remember being told…”

“-You can’t go around scaring prey mammals. Doesn’t matter if you don’t mean to, you have to be responsible. It’s just common courtesy.”

“-Uh-hu,” the feline nodded. “But it’s not a case of ‘common courtesy’. It’s a case of equity,” his voice hardened as he spoke. “It’s not our fault if prey mammals are scared or find these threatening…” The bear nodded along, humming in agreement. “-And the fact remains it’ll be predators who have to control natural expressions, far more than prey. A bunny isn’t getting detention for a binky, or a bovid for scraping their hoofs across the floor or a goat lowering his horns. But a pred smiles too much? We all know it happens, and that’s wrong. So this new ruling that several school districts have put in place, banning teachers from criticising or disciplining species specific expressions, will go a long way to help this.”

“-Yeah, and you know what they will say,” the bear chuckled, jigging a little in her seat. “Before, it was all ‘free speech’ and ‘facts don’t care about your feelings’ or ‘live with it snowflake’.”

The lynx laughed a few times, nodding. “Hey, sauce for the goose, am I right?”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “And soon enough I think we’ll look back at telling an overexcited pred kit that he’s scaring poor prey mammals the same way we look back at skulk busting today.”

The lynx nodded in agreement, a large section of text appearing over them. ‘Skulk busting: The illegal practice by persons of authority (in education, law enforcement, caregiving etc) of preventing foxes and members of other similarly stereotyped species from socialising with each other in order to supposedly prevent them plotting, hustling or performing other stereotypical behaviours. Either directly, with enforced rules, or indirectly, via scheduling to avoid interactions between them or encouraging the affected mammals to do activities apart from each other.’

“Exactly,” the lynx agreed.

The bear nodded, leaning forward. “And I think it’s also worth bearing in mind, for those who talk about civility and that this is good for education… What kind of education are you talking about?”

“And that speaks to me as I used to be so proud to be this smart little school kitten, neat and tidy,” the lynx said, talking on. “And only as I read up in university did I consider how much it wasn’t being proud at myself, rather how proud I was to be assimilating into a Prey Supremacist system.”

“And this education system,” the bear said, shaking her head and giving an exasperated sigh. “If you think about it, a whole bunch of children listening on, working together, having to stand there and listen to instructions, teacher down to students without question. It’s a herd mentality. A herd pedology, and is that what we really want for our children? Is that going to be preparing them for our current world?”

The lynx nodded along. “And is it fair to force pack mammals, who work best collaborating together for a shared goal, or individual mammals who independently question authority, into this model?”

“Exactly, and the majority of prey aren’t herd mammals,” the bear chimed in. “Again, this is this toxic preyness hurting themselves.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Prey need to learn, there really is nothing to fear. If anything this is going to improve their children's educational experience.”

“Right on…” the bear said, leaning forward and fist bumping him.

.

And then the screen went black.

.

A new title appeared. 

.

‘In Practice.’

.

And it flipped to a tired looking marmot filming herself in class, flipping forward to show a tired looking camel teacher, trying to write out the various themes of ‘For Whom the Bellwether Toles’ and narrating them.

Not that that was what the student was hearing. 

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO……..”

“AWWWWOOOOWWOOOOWOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“AWWWwwwoooOOOoowWWWwwwoooOOOOOWWWWooooWWWooowowowowow….!!!!!!!!!!!!”

At which point the student filming it all turned her camera back to reveal four wolves sitting behind her, howling their tails off.

“AAAAAWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOO!!!!!!”

“WILL YOU SHUT UP ALREADY!”

The wolves turned to see a squirrel student standing up and glaring at them, fur all spiked up.

They just looked at each other, giggling, and…

“AAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!”

The squirrel collapsed forward, huffing in and out, as the camel teacher turned up. “I’m sorry, I know that… -Our learning environment has undergone some changes…”

“-Are you going to tell me to shut up?”

“Just…” the camel gestured her hoof down.

“They’re making it impossible!” the squirrel yelled, jabbing her finger at the wolves as they went onto another round of howls. “Make them shut up! Get them out…”

“-Due to teaching rules, we’re not allowed to discriminate against species speci…”

“-Discriminate? They're trying to deafen us!”

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do,” the teacher said, turning and leaving the squirrel before she could even give a reply. Instead, the small rodent turned and collapsed against her desk, the marmot filming it all turning the camera to her own face and rolling her eyes…

“-AHHH!!”

The camera suddenly turned to show the squirrel leaping up, limbs spinning around in the air, as one of the wolves pulled himself back from his stealthy tooth and claw bearing lunge at her. The wolves jumped back and began howling with laughter, banging their desks as the teacher walked over. “Okay, that was pushing the…”

“WHAT THE CUSS IS WRONG WITH YOU YOU STUPID MUTTS! DO YOU ENJOY GIVING US HEART ATTACKS OR DO YOU ACTUALLY WANT TO EAT US OR…”

“-SANDRA!”

The room went quiet as the squirrel turned to look over at the camel in charge. The teacher looked more tired than anything. “We have a zero tolerance policy on predation accusations, can…”

“-WHAT?” the squirrel asked, her eyes beginning to water, all as the wolves began to laugh, giving celebration howls. “I…”

“If you just apologise…”

“-ME! APOLOGISE!” the squirrel began to yell.

“Just please…” the teacher began, sighing. “I…”

“NO!” the squirrel yelled, as the wolves began jeering and laughing. “I’m not…”

“-Then I’m going to have to ask you to leave the classroom…”

Excited celebration howls yelled out as the squirrel student began having a meltdown, yelling about how unfair it was and how she was the victim, the teacher saying that it was school policy and she needed to go outside and think about what she’d done…

-Finally, with a huff, the squirrel jumped off the desk, the wolf howling reaching a crescendo, and carrying on even as the other student left the room.

The dik-dok logo and tune played and two paws quickly worked away. Linking to an o(X) account, posting the video and adding a new title. ‘School bans teachers from disciplining ‘species specific behaviours’ for equity. Then what everyone knew would happen happened.’

And woosh, it was off, paws looking through new links.

She soon found one, opening up Dik-Dok once more.

.

A group of foxes in a school were filming themselves, giggling as they walked up to a hedgehog. “Hey,” one of them asked. “How was city hall?”

The student glanced up, then began walking away, the foxes starting to follow on. “-Just asking, I thought you guys tended to be flat.”

“Squish…” one of the others said, the trio giggling.

“-Hey…” All eyes turned to a prefect, walking over. “Come on, leave him…”

“-You skulk busting us!” one of the foxes yelled.

“Yeah!” another added.

“That’s illegal,” the filming mammal said, the three walking towards the larger mammals.

“Speciesist!”

“We can get you expelled for that.”

“Cuss head!”

The prefect mammal threw his paws up, slowly backing away, the foxes crowding around the camera and giggling. “-Works every time,” one of them said, paw held up in a proud fist.

“Remember guys, don’t let them skulk bust us!”

They cheered, before taking off against the hedgehog once more.

The Dik-Dok video stopped, paws quickly linking it to a new post, titled as ‘Foxes advise others to use Skulk-Busting accusations to get away with bullying.’

The phone briefly went down, the mammal tapping her foot on the floor.

Waiting.

Waiting…

Before sighing, eagerly picking the phone up again and opening up a recommendation from one of her followers. 

.

“ If you see a fox or mink or something out hustling, I don’t care if you think it’s wrong or something,” the coyote girl spoke, glancing down at her phone as she walked around. “The whole idea that ‘hustling’, or taking money from overconfident, wealth hoarding, mammals, is a bad thing… Is nothing but a social construct designed to discriminate against the legitimate ways of life of other species.” She turned around the corner, raising her phone up high and looking up into it. “These species evolved these tactics to survive over millennia, taking leftovers from bigger pred kills and adapting that into new methods of survival in a world of capitalism, just as every other species has had to adapt to survive being forced into this. -You don’t get to say this is any less legitimate than any other way of survival, or culture, because that’s just speciesism. You hate the hustling as foxes do it, not foxes as they’re hustlers. If you don’t like it, maybe try and fight the system instead, not the legitimate culture of those who’ve been forced to adapt to it…” She made a twerky motion before flipping a peace sign, the video cutting off and the Dik-Dok logo flashing up.

“Seriously,” the mammal watching it muttered, quickly pulling away from the messenger who’d sent her this gem. She quickly pulled up her main (o)X profile and got to work, first linking the video in. Then posting the title ‘Coyote says you have to put up with foxes hustling as it’s part of their culture, and you’re a bigot if you think otherwise .’

.

And with that she turned the phone off, looking up and waiting. It shouldn’t be taking that long to…

“Apologies,” the red duiker spoke, walking in and sitting down. “I was just receiving some new news about a different case. Anyway, I’m certain you’d like to get on to your one, am I correct?”

“Yes I am,” the serval spoke, putting her phone down and watching as the small antelope set everything out. 

“First off,” he said, looking up. “I must strongly advise you to limit your current output on social media…”

“-Why?” she asked. “I post under a pseudonym, don’t I?”

“Yes,” he said, glancing down. ‘Dik-Dok Fox Watch’ if I’m not mistaken.”

“Yes, and not Sarah Sarrahson,” the serval replied. “So I don’t see what the point is here unless I get doxxed, in which case I would be the victim, would I not?”

He glanced at her, hooves coming together. “Question, what if on the stand the prosecution asks you if you are the author of this media account?”

“And how would they…”

“-Just…” he huffed, “-entertain me, for the moment, please.”

She shrugged. “I would object. Are my (o)X posts on trial here?”

“I would back that up, the prosecution would say it is critical to establishing the defendant's character, the judge would agree with that notion, so… Are you the author of that social media account?”

“If by that do you mean I take things members and advocates of a certain set of species say and then repost them verbatim online for people to draw their own conclusions from, the answer would be correct. Yes.”

He nodded. “At which point the defence would have established that you, someone accused of organising a prison attack on a member of such a species after they were ruled innocent of the crime they were suspected of, own a speciesist social media account that specifically targets that species in its title.”

Sarrahson looked aghast for a second before her conviction firmed up. “Did you hear what I just said? Repost, verbatim. I merely take what they believe out of their echo chamber, so ordinary mammals can get a view of what they think of themselves and others behind closed doors. My only crime is showing a mirror to them and in turn, for showcasing the truth, I am accused of being a speciesist. No?”

He sighed. “Well, the jury won’t see it like that.”

“So I should lie to them? I thought that wasn’t allowed. Isn’t that called perjury, hmmmm? I thought we were here for truth and justice. Do they even matter any more?”

He sighed. “It’s not that simple.”

“Oh really?”

Looking up to her, he thought for a second. “Do you want the long version or the short?”

She tilted her head for a moment, thinking, before crossing her arms and leaning forward. “Well, with what I’m paying I’d like my money's worth. Long version. Please.”

He looked up at her for a second before leaning back in his chair, glancing away. “Following the end of the Second World War and both witnessing its unequal horror and having the fact that, had they not fled their country, they would have almost certainly have been subjected to the very worst of it weighing heavily on their minds, a group of German philosophers who’d previously studied lines of thought descended from Kantichen and Barx strove to create a new philosophy. One engineered to prevent such horrors from ever occurring again. Previously, philosophy in the aftermath of ‘The Death of God’ had focussed on finding new meaning for mammality, mainly in the pursuit of a new ultimate truth or the perfection of mammal kind. However, believing this to be a central cause of the horrors the world had just witnessed, the Frankpferd school as they were known proposed the antithesis: There is no perfection, there is no ultimate truth. Rather, truth itself is subjective, with everyone having a valid viewpoint.”

“-And what?” Sarrahson scoffed. “Let me guess, does this mean ‘hustling’ is a legitimate cultural expression and I’m a bigot for not approving of it?”

He sighed, raising a hoof. “The school of thought was designed to create an open house of ideas, though it soon formed a canon so to speak, a central thesis and direction that moulded it going forward. At first, if everything is a social construct, then all social norms are valid to be analysed, critiqued, deconstructed. Nothing is sacred be it the institution of marriage, the class system, species, legitimacy of work… -The age of consent. Many take this further, if everything is a social construct then surely someone must have created that social construct to put themselves at an advantage. Ergo, it becomes an inherent moral good to deconstruct and subvert them for deconstruction and subversions sake. There are many valid criticisms of this school of thought and its creators, in particular their either accidental or willful blindness of left-wing totalitarianism despite it controlling half the planet at that point in time, or their belief that their side would never be able to deconstruct too far, as it were. Maybe they believed that common sense would always win out and they didn’t need to include a formalised backstop or devil's advocate, or maybe they simply didn’t believe there was a ‘too far’. Regardless, when all social constructs and unequal differences are viewed as methods or results of oppression by a small tyrannical minority, it follows that any defence of such, however logical and well thought out, is merely supporting oppression and ergo morally compromised and invalid from the start. And, ergo, so is whoever is doing the defending.”

“So you’re saying the answer is yes,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes and glaring down. “Do you just want to give me the confession form here and skip the kangaroo court?”

He sighed. “The many knowing or unknowing followers of this school of thought, in many areas of academia and culture but also filtering down to many normal mammals, hold a simple view. Rather than truth being the highest ideal, and justice having to bend to it, justice is the highest ideal and truth must bend to it. While at first it sounds entirely wrong, in the field as it were it is entirely understandable and speaks to the sense of justice and empathy held within each and every mammal. Such as the critics of your account, who do not care that you highlight ‘truthful’ statements because to them that is a non-factor compared to the social injustice you are creating against foxes, a biased against species, at large.”

“And why should I care what those mammals think?” she asked, scoffing.

“You shouldn’t… In many cases it’s a deeply flawed viewpoint and I would say that people should not be afraid to call it out or defy its advocates. -As long as you understand that to many mammals you naturally come across as a bigoted asshole, a high level cusswad, a total jerk, a piece of cuss, a thoroughly nasty irritable self righteous twat and a downright awful sadistic bullying specimen of non-mamamlity who the world would be vastly better off without.”

She glared at him across the desk. “And does that include you?”

“Just legal advice,” he said. “What mammals think of you.”

She looked away, grumbling a little. “What was the short version.”

“That you’re a total cuss.”

She recoiled back in shock, rage growing over her voice as the lawyer nudged his seat back a little, glancing between her and the door. Only for her rage to turn down, merely boiling away. “And why the cuss should I care what they think?”

“Again, you shouldn’t, you should care what the fourteen mammals on the jury think,” he pressed, leaning in. 

“The ones there to find the truth?” she asked.

“The ones there judging you in the most important popularity contest of your life Mrs Sarrahson. Don’t ever think that that’s not what it is, and right now were you on the stand you would be losing it spectacularly, believe you me.”

“What, for standing for the truth?” She crossed her paws. “Facts don’t care about feelings.”

“Facts such as the fact your previous account told over ten-thousand mammals to take on the ZPD and march on city hall to fight the vulpine conspiracy, leading many mammals to their deaths,” the lawyer spoke. “I don’t care if you were duped, this city is angry and they want justice against the ones behind that, and many will count you in there. They’re hungry for the criminal mastermind, and one of his useful idiots would be a very tasty appetiser. And that’s certainly not helped by the fact you are still at it! Even now you’ve tried to cast doubt on the evidence that the whole uprising was a massive disinformation campaign run by a deadly mammal, and instead deliberately spread lies and misinformation that it’s a plot by the ZPD and a group of foxes in powerful places…”

Sarah threw her paws into the air. “So I’m guilty for pointing out that one of the ‘kits’ shown in the expose video is clearly the same fox who helped bust Bellwether dressed up as a maned wolf cub!?”

“Oh for gods…” the lawyer said, facehoofing. “Stop lying…”

“I ran it through facial recognition technology,” she said, switching to an overly exaggerated voice. “But noooo… It’s something clearly proven to be dangerous disinformation. -It’s dangerous alright, but it’s just information . Just like the fact this whole thing wouldn’t have occurred without ZNN, which is run by an arctic fox, and had a bunch of foxes burst through and interrupt a newscast earlier that day!”

“If you spout those lies in a courtroom…”

“They’re not…”

“YES THEY ARE!”

Sarah scoffed. “Ah, of course they are, they go against ‘justice’ don’t they?”

“No,” the lawyer groaned, glaring at her. “Not in this case. Nick Wilde did not dress up as a kit, ZNN was not in on it, ZNN did not have a bunch of foxes burst into a newscast…”

“I’ve SEEN the video, do you want to see it?” 

“Quite frankly I’ve seen enough,” he hissed. “Mammals attacking the seat of our democracy in a coup, mass slaughter on the streets, chaos, death, things that make me feel sick. And mammals lying and profiting about it, so no. I’m not going to watch your latest video…”

“Because of course you can’t,” she smiled. “The truth? You can’t handle the truth!”

“And what part of uncovering the truth did organising a bunch of convicts and teen sex criminals to perform a hate crime on a cleared and innocent fox, using a younger mammal as a hostage, reveal!? Huh, answer me that!? Give me an answer before you have to give the prosecutor one.”

Sarah looked at him, blinking, before shrugging. “Well, maybe that’s just a case where justice won out over truth, wasn’t it. As you said, it’s an entirely legitimate philosophical view.”

The duiker sighed, shaking his head. 

“Besides,” she said. “What proof do they have, huh? They have to prove the truth, there’s nothing…”

“Two mammals already convicted and having made a deal to provide testimony against you.”

“-And what if they’re lying, they’re convicted criminals and wouldn’t care about coming up with some made up story saying I was behind it all for a reduced sentence.”

“Both were interviewed and recounted their stories separately, both lined up,” the small antelope said.

“They conspired to come up with it together, beforepaw,” Sarah said. “A conspiracy to cover their tails. For all you know it was a different guard or administrator, with something against both the fox and me. Two birds one stone, right? Heck, it makes sense. Correctional Officers usually never turn against each other, have each other's backs, how often have you heard it that they cover each other for crimes. Instead here you have them cut off any support for me, refuse any help or legal advice, send… -Send family members of other guards in to the cops with supposed ‘confessions’ that I made. For all you know it was an impersonator, or AI. I mean think about it, why would they not only drop me so completely, but send their own against me on behalf of an ex-con!”

The red duiker slammed his hooves against the desk. “Maybe because you decided to quit after leading the shivering traumatised youth to his father right after the event, and then made a whole ‘I’m the real victim here’ speech about it. I mean that’s certainly going to come up in the trial. Why the hell did you do that, huh? You could have been on the other side of the prison, you could have just left him alone or just never seen it and then there’d be no connection, no nothing. But no , you wanted to see your handiwork and make some big, grand, statement about it. You wanted your hero moment, and everyone else saw it for what it really was.”

“Do you want to know why I quit?” she asked, crossing her arms in front of her. “Because I knew the way the wind was blowing. Because I knew, and I had my dignity and pride.”

“Sure,” he said, shrugging. “Sure. But I’d just like to say, again. Your social media posts haven’t been discovered yet. But one mammal finding out, one question at witness stand, one judges warrant, and that could be the weight that breaks the very thin ice you’re skating on. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” she said, as they moved on to other matters.

Over the next hour or so, they made limited progress, with Sarah asking on a number of occasions if he was actively opposing her and wanted her to get in trouble, and him replying that the best hope for least harm was to admit to some level of responsibility, take some punishment on the chin and grab a level of leniency by showing regret and remorse for her actions.

Something which she refused point blank to do for, even if she had done such actions, she had done nothing wrong with them.

Eventually, the meeting ended, Sarah Sarrahson leaving the office and making her way to her car. As she did so, her paw reached down to pick up her phone, pawpad gliding along as she looked at some of the replies and messages she’d received. Most were positive, applauding her for helping bring this to light. Others though were aggressive, angry, stating she was a hateful mammal, or a liar…

She bristled at that last one, especially as her eyes moved down and fixed on a small comment thread underneath the ‘skulk-busting’ video.

‘ How much is she getting for posting these lies day in day out? ’

To which one of her own followers had replied. ‘Lies as in posting the stuff your side is literally saying?’

‘It’s all lies you idiot. Made up. Maybe try showing a basic level of decency for once.’

To which another of her followers replied. ‘They made videos of themselves and posted it online. You’re just upset the people who weren’t suppose to see it saw it.’

And then she smiled as the critic posted. ‘Why would they make a video of themselves confessing to it! You’re so stupid, I don’t feel bad knowing you’re not a real person. Do you know you’re not a real person?’

She didn’t bring up that last comment, or the posters blatant denial, or the insinuation that literally everything she posted was made up or staged and just part of this whole big bad conspiracy of his. She shook her head, that would be stupid. Stupid on the next level.

But, rather than typing out any long argument that they’d gloss over or ignore or just retort with ‘of course you’d say that’ or ‘you don’t get it’ or anything else…

She linked in to a small Gif image, a subtitled scene from a decade or so old film that answered that question perfectly. Two deer bucks in their mid-twenties were smiling, antler tapping each other at what they thought was a sale well done, all as three mammals left the room. Their leader, a caracal, turned to the other two smaller mammals and asked a simple question. “I don’t get it, why are they confessing?”

“They’re not confessing,” the first answered, shaking his head as his partner finished it off.

“They’re bragging.”

The camera turned to the caracal, the cross-armed feline looking at them and then silently clocking it, one last glance returned to the celebrating deer bucks.

And with that, she posted it, turning forward and walking on.

As she did so, she looked around at the city, the mammals. She thought on. All she was trying to do was defend them, bring to light what everyone knew, and yet so many were so wedded to this idea of justice that they would literally deny what they saw right in front of them.

It made her heart quiver just a bit, her paw pushing her phone back into her pocket as she focussed on her breathing. It didn’t matter if she confessed or plead mercy, did it? She was a thorn in her side, a roadbump on the way to their brave new world. They wanted to rewrite everything, and because she didn’t want that she was the enemy. Her fate would be the same if she submitted or fought to the end. 

In which case it was win or lose, and she was going to keep on trying to win. For her family. For Zootopia. And nobody was going to convince her otherwise.

Close to an hour later she pulled up at her home outside the city. Her kittens were out at various social clubs and such, her husband at work, so she settled down in front of the television, relaxing back and trying to clear her head a little. Phone out, she began to scroll through dik-dok again, throwing her head back and groaning as they recommended shorts from this stupid predator comedy troupe again. As if she wanted to watch some insane foreign mink with terminal main character syndrome painting all predators with the worst brush possible and then others jumping in to say how insightful or…

With a start the phone buzzed to life, dancing in her paw as she struggled to catch it before answering it. “Hello?”

“Hello,” came the voice from the other end. “I’m a friend. Don’t…”

Pulling the phone back, the serval gave it a suspicious look as she hung up, quickly opening a recording app and then phoning back. “Sorry there,” she answered. “Just a loss of signal, it’s not very good where I live.”

“Uh-hu,” the voice answered. “I don’t blame you for wanting to record this, with how things are it makes perfect sense to defend yourself.”

Sarah’s ears pulled back.

“-You can say the literal truth and mammals will denounce you as the biggest liar there is, who knows what damage an out of context speech snippet or well isolated soundbite can do.”

The cat stood up, looking around, before slowly moving away from the windows. Closer inside, ready to get up the stairs to higher ground. Just in case. “Who are you?”

“Someone who knows you are closer to the truth than anyone else. About the real fight going on behind this city.” She paused. “Everyone acts as if the whole riot thing was a conspiracy by Rattigan, a distraction, and the elites and everyone are innocent. They’ve convinced mammals so hard that they don’t even want to think about the things that don’t make sense.”

“Like how someone just today denied that that whole thing with the foxes breaking into the ZNN news room on the day of the riot even happened. To my face. While calling me a liar.”

The line was quiet for a second before the voice returned, sounding…Happy? Proud? Relieved? “Hook line and sinker. It’s amazing what some mammals can convince themselves of, isn’t it.”

Sarah nodded. “Oh yes, believe you me.”

“Oh I most certainly do,” the voice agreed. “You see… What Rattigan, the real Rattigan, had found was the truth. The same truth present in the Lotor case back in Vancouver. Given how they covered that up and slurred or vanished anyone following on, I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t know…”

“-Wait,” the serval asked. “Wasn’t that the beaver PI who…”

“-Discovered evidence of an illegal meat market, serving food to both pred and prey elites, as a status symbol? The one where he vanished, only to be discovered weeks later outside the city, dead, some kind of horrible tumour fused to his backbone. The one where they went after his friends, family, supporters, the widowed otter client whose husband had vanished, the owner of the nightclub it happened in, Lotor’s fox girlfriend… -Species does not matter when you step outside the tribe, does it? The worst punishments are always reserved for those species traitors who dare act with their conscience.”

Sarah nodded. “That’s… that’s what they're doing, it’s illegal meat, cannibalism…”

“Always was,” the voice answered back. “It’s not a pred prey thing, as I said. And if anything it’s worse for predators. From what we gather Bellwether discovered some of this and thought it was a pred only thing. Hence the howler crisis. Not that it’d have worked, those preds in the club were insulated from her actions, and all were ready to take her down if she started to get too close to the bone. ” She sighed. “It truly is in our best interest as carnivores to shut this down, to stop it creating new Bellwethers, yet the abuse I’ve received, that I’m some pet cat of these prey elites and hate myself… Well, as I said, the worst punishments are always reserved for species traitors… -I’d like to see the look on some of their faces when they’re the ones in the cage, carried over to the chopping block as pred and prey look on, sharpening the axe.”

“And Rattigan? You said there was a real one.”

“There is,” she sighed, “he was getting close. Enough evidence to go to the police, to the sites… He was hidden, so they couldn’t go after him like they did Lotor. So they went after his reputation instead.”

Sarah’s eyes widened. “You mean, the one on the screen…”

“Of course it was a fake! How could a rat hiding out in the sewers and such hijack the ZNN PA system. I mean, they wanted you to think that, hence paying the uncle of the Anonymous Vulpine…”

“Kristofferson,” she said. “His name is Kristofferson Silverfox.”

“Right, of course,” the voice said. “Hence paying him, some other actors, included the adopted skunk son of the owner of the company to make it look like that was when they hacked the system or whatever. All setting it up.”

Sarah nodded intently. “So, wait… -Was that fox always in on the plan? Was that why they cussing mobilised the whole city to rescue a single fox kit who was caught purple cussing pawed!?”

“Yes and no,” the voice sighed. “You have your pads on the pulse. That fox, Frederick Fox, by day was a lowtime newspaper writer and part-time pest controller slash hunter. Birds and stuff, only there was far more to it than that. In reality, he was one of their key meat suppliers.”

Sarah’s ears pulled back. “No way…”

“Yes. He had this historic house carved out of a tree, with a secret smuggling tunnel linking it with the Nocturnal District. That’s how they moved the goods around. Go there if you want, Rattigan, the real one, was able to call a few allies and they tried to use the cover of the riots against those who’d set it up. Dig out the tree, capture them, only they escaped out of the tunnel.” She sighed. “They’re in witness protection, right now.”

“So let me get this straight,” the serval began, a finger in front of her tracing things out as she thought aloud. “Rattigan, the real one, was getting too close to the evidence. There were also plenty of mammals picking up on the leaks, getting organised. The powers that be knew that were it to come out, were those mammals and those in the ZPD to unite then the bad guys would have had it. -So they made their own fake exposee and released it early, trigger the uprising but send it against the ZPD, who they’d framed.”

“Exactly,” the voice said, Sarah imagining a paw clenching with excitement. “You’ve got it in one. Once they framed Bogo, and released a video setting him up, with help from Officers like Nick not a maned wolf…”

“-I knew it!”

“Of course you did,” the mammal on the other end chuckled. “Regardless, they divided and conquered, made their potential enemies attack each other while they, and their fake actors and their supporters, laughed their tails off until to the end. And now? They’ve won, most mammals are so shaken up by the horror they saw they just shut down and accept the official narrative as it’s easier. They’ve been trained to hate and feel disgust behind those who rose up to try and save innocent kids from being kept as sex slaves. All while mammals, adults and kids and pred and prey still go missing, still get taken away in the middle of the night, still find themselves auctioned off in front of predator and prey for millions, shivering in terror as a goat tests how firm their calves are and a wolf licks their skin and a lechwe jokes about living up to his species’ reputation and trying their liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.”

Wiping her paw down her face, Sarrahson bared her teeth. “What can we do?”

“There is one ray of light,” she continued. “There are plenty of other things such elite mammals are interested in, many of their beliefs trace back to secret societies spanning across thousands of years. Or rather, they like to piece and smash together whatever they can to create that impression. Evidence of ancient texts, records, etcetera. From Egypt to Babylon, the Mayan jungle to the heights of the Andes in Reino Del Sol… Building them together to create their own version of history, their own heritage. All to inflate their own ego’s, and to become the official truth when the time is finally right.”

“-They’d need mammals to do that. Silverfox’s father was an academic, right?”

“Oh yes,” the voice agreed. “Studying species specific languages, in particular in Asia Minor. Efrafan hares, a breed bred for war, battle, with their own language and culture, their own long tradition of supplementing their diet with meat, often rioting when laws were passed banning prey from eating pred food. -But even they had those who were too extreme for them. Who they warred to destroy, to burn off the face of the earth. The devil worshipers of Niedelienes. Guess where a lot of Dr William Silverfox’s early work was based?”

“They’re all in on it…”

“Indeed,” the voice agreed. “ We managed to catch him. We have him. But he’s tight lipped. We think the only way we could get him to speak is with his son under threat. That son and the rest of the family are in witness protection as we speak. We need to bust them out, steal their prized meat smuggler, and use the other guilty family members as leverage to get their corrupt academic to speak.”

“And you need me to help,” she agreed. “To finally bring them to justice. I just have two questions.” 

“Which are?”

“What’s your name?”

“Felicity. Felicity Pawker. The one who they’ve labelled as a cannibal. You can tell they’re projecting, can’t you?”

“Oh yes.”

“And two?”

Sarah smiled. “Where do I start?

Chapter Text

.

.

Tapping through her computer, Sarrahson frowned, pushing forward a little.

"-Evening dear."

She turned, giving a wave at her husband as he walked in, the male serval looking at her and giving a smile before pausing, eyes focussed on what she was doing.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

He walked over, looking down at her ongoing activities. A furbook page, a few posts, a picture of some mammals at a school. Most were selfies of a pair of wolves, all while a small cast could be picked up in the background. A Scottish wildcat, a wombat, a sheep, three foxes…

"That's the one, isn't it?" he asked, leaning over and pointing. "The platinum fox."

"Silverfox."

"I thought…"

"His name is Silverfox," she said, reaching down and grabbing some spicy crispy crickets, throwing them into her mouth and slowly chewing, a loud crunch coming out.

Her husband looked at the few pictures of him for a second before shaking his head. "I know… I know you said all those things about him. He looks fairly ordinary."

"They always do," she said. "It's only as you see them, clock what they're doing, you realise just how foul and manipulative they are. The pleasure they take in it. They're subtle. That's what mammals don't understand. Subtle, and patient, you think you know and you're coming out the top, all while you're their little patsy."

"I… I guess there are plenty like that up there. Those that get caught."

"And there's far more out in the city, all ready to come in and help out one of their own in his time of need."

He glanced at her, pausing, before looking back at the picture. "I guess if mammals like Bellwether lasted so long, I…" He paused. "I'm guessing you're just looking for any evidence or such of things he's done in the past."

"I… -Yeah," she agreed, looking on through.

He held himself there. "You… You know I'll always have your back, right?"

She nodded.

"Just…" He sighed, bringing up a chair and sitting down, paws out. "I…" He froze, leaning down and pinching his brow before looking up. "It's not a bad thing to be mammal."

She stopped typing, turning around to look at him. "Be mammal?"

"Y-you know, to err is to mammal, what I'm saying…"

"You think I made a mistake?" she asked, turning her chair around so she fully faced him.

"I… -It happens," he said. "I've met mammals too who just… Rack me off in some way. Some difference in how we think of something, or something in their voice, or I don't know. Just, we get off on the wrong paw and where possible, space and forgetting about it is the best option. And you didn't get that here, you met a mammal who for whatever reason just ticked you off in the worst way, maybe you brought about the worst in each other. It happens. It opened some scars left from what Karen went through, and seeing as what he was going through I wouldn't blame him if he was bitter and counter snarking and it just…" He sighed.

"-What he went through?"

He looked up. "You know, falsely accused, thrown in prison when by all rights he should have been bailed, all for some public figures ego and conspiracy point scoring. I would struggle to be a saint too and…"

"-Well I mean you're defending him now," she said. "Like the rest of them."

"I…"

"I don't blame mammals for succumbing to peer pressure too," she said, turning back to her computer screen. "Though I'd have at least hoped you'd have my back."

He froze, ears pulling back. "Of course I have your…"

"-Yet you're making excuse after excuse for this mammal, you'd rather not look bad than question why everyone came to his defence."

"He had relatives and friends in high places, who knew people, it…"

"-Oh, I'll credit you there. But you're still thinking so small," she said, shaking her head at him.

She scrolled through more posts, her husband looking on and sighing. "I thought you said all you were doing was reposting stupid stuff people posted online. Not doing any of that conspiracy…"

"I didn't find the conspiracy," she said. "The conspiracy found me."

He looked at her before half collapsing. "Please, what do you think…"

"You've heard of the Lotor case, right?" she asked. "Well…"

"-That mob thing back in Vancouger, I…" He looked at her and groaned. "No, please, tell me you don't think that that fox was involved in something like that here."

"And why wouldn't he be?" she asked. "Wouldn't that…"

"-And what in his time under your watch suggested he was involved in that, huh?" he asked. "What? What evidence, what hints, what proof do you have, other than him being an edgelord or something... And why have you kept this quiet so long if it's so true?"

"I got a phonecall earlier today. The whole uprising thing…"

He facepawed. "Don't bring that into this, don't…"

"WHY NOT!?" she yelled, jumping up. "It's all part of the plot. All part of what's going on. And now the powers this fox's family did their dirty work for is keeping them safe, all while the heroes who tried to…"

"Stop, stop, stop!" he yelled, paws out wide. "You… -Wait, the mammals behind the riots actually contacted you?"

She smiled. "Yeah."

He looked at her, blinking for a second before jumping into the air. "-Ye…" There was a massive bang as his head hit the ceiling, the serval collapsing back down onto shaky legs, his wife running forward to steady him.

"You okay!?"

"Y-yeah…"

"Been a while since…"

"Three months, I think," he groaned, snapping to attention and holding her. "But this is great!"

"I know!"

"Forget all your legal troubles, you have a get out of jail free. Handed to you on a silver platter!"

She chuckled. "I wouldn't say I have quite that."

"No, no," he said, shaking his head as he began walking around. "It's not that clear that the ZPD would accept it…"

"Huh?"

"-And you might still get some suspended sentence, but still, they'd kill for this. They'd…"

"-What are you talking about!?"

He turned to her. "We tell the ZPD, we organise a meet up with these mammals, we lead them right to the cops and boom. They get arrested, you get a plea deal, it's over!" He kept his smile open and wide, only for it to fade as his wife's look hardened. "No…" he groaned, facepawing again. "No, no no no no…"

"I can attempt to appease the evil, or fight it," she said, crossing her arms. "I can lose in both of those, but only one of those losses has my face being eaten off by a leopard."

He spun around, a bemused expression on his face before he shook it off. "No. Sarah. Be serious here."

"I am being…"

"No you're not!" he yelled, walking up and grabbing her. With a sudden hiss she snapped away, claws up and bared.

"Don't…!"

"Sarah," he stammered, shaking a little.

"Didn't you vow to always be by my side?" She asked. "Didn't you vow to trust me, to…"

"You're not speaking straight," he said.

"Ah, and now the gaslighting begins," she said, crossing her paws. "That and the domestic abuse."

He looked at her, trembling. "What…. What happened to you?"

"I don't know," she said. "The fact that my husband was trying to push me to plead guilty, to go to prison, to leave my children behind!"

"You were going down anyway," he insisted. "Can't you see that? I… I was happy to stand by your side as you fought this, but when it became clear you did do it…" He frowned, stamping his foot. "I was shocked at first but I chalked it up to you encountering the wrong mammal at the wrong time! You being mammal! And if you apologised and plead guilty you could have had a short sentence and I would have waited! I would have waited! As I love you dammit, I…" He froze, mouth quivering. "I loved you. But I don't see you anymore." He closed his eyes and put his foot down. "It stops now."

"What does?" She scoffed. "They're not…"

"The social media, the conspiracy stuff, it's rotting your brain. So you stop it right now, delete the apps and… -No, don't delete them as we're getting your lawyer and getting you a plea deal or something for bringing those monsters in!"

He stared at her, claws out and teeth bared before he pulled them in with a shake of his head. She just glared at him. "Isolating me, cutting communication…"

"What…"

"You know you have some nerve!" she yelled. "Saying I've changed!? Whereas you are going right down the domestic abusers handbook. Each and every step of it. If anything, I should be the one calling the ZPD. And I bet you'll think you're a fool when they come for you, when they come for all of us."

He frowned, shaking his head and walking forward, only for her to step back and grab a small fire poker that had been lying near the desk and hold it up like a sword. "Get out."

He blinked. "What!?"

"Get out of my house before I call the ZPD."

He frowned, standing straight. "No."

She moved to pick up her phone, poker held up at him. "I'm warning you. Trust me from someone inside, the guards don't like domestic abusers. You really think you'll last long in there, huh, you really think…"

"I am not leaving my house," he said.

"'My house', like you didn't pay half the mortgage. Like you weren't the one to make it a home, full of life, full of happiness, like you weren't the one who failed your duty to defend it or your wife. Honestly, I'm even hoping you do come back, begging to be let back in. What kind of man even are you, huh!? HUH!?"

He closed his eyes, staring at her. "I'm not…"

"-Dad. Please."

All eyes turned to see a serval in his late teens in the corner, phone camera slowly lowering as he looked at them, body trembling.

"Martin," his mother began, walking forwards only for a paw to be held up, her son looking away.

"Don't… -Dad, come on, let's go."

"Martin," he began.

"It's not worth it, I…" He glanced over at his mother. "I've… I've seen what you've become," he said, glaring at her before looking back at his father. "I'm sorry you…" He trailed off. "Come on, let's go."

His father sighed, before walking out.

"-Wait!"

They turned to Sarah, who looked at her son. "You… You're not…"

"I hate what you've become," he snarled.

"What about Karen? Her father and brother fleeing her and her mother, leaving them for…"

"-Karen is already in the car," Martin said. "She was half having a panic attack!"

"No, my little kitten would…"

"Save it!" he yelled, his father walking out next to him and holding himself there, trembling for a second, tears glistening down his eyes as he looked at his wife. "The only one in this household to not see what you've become is you. Maybe while we're gone you should look in a mirror for a change!"

And with that they stepped back and suddenly they were gone. Sarah stood there, shocked for a second before snapping to attention. "Wait!"

She began going after them, seeing them closing the door. Racing after them, they slammed it shut hard, Sarah grabbing the handle and pulling it only for them to pull back, the click of the lock engaging.

She turned, racing out a window, racing forward as she saw the car pull out of the driveway and turn, starting to drive forward. "STOP!" she yelled. The car pushed on. "I SAID STOP!" It drove off, picking up speed. "YOU CAN'T JUST STEAL MY FAMILY! COWARD! MONSTER! YOU CAN'T! YOU-CAN'T-YOU-CAN'T-YOU-CAN'T!"

The car sped off around a corner and vanished out of sight, the serval left there shaking, panting, eyes glowering and teeth snarling.

The serval turned back home, slipping back in and walking back to her study. Picking up the stoker, she stared at the wooden surface, her computer equipment and knick-knacks all laid out.

She pulled it up and smashed it down, shattering the picture of her husband that lay on it. Up and down, up and down, the frame splintering and going everywhere, the plastic glass snapping.

She threw away the poker and screamed, collapsing back down on her bed and breathing in and out.

Eventually, her phone rang. By that point in time she was back on her computer and working hard, to the point she almost threw the device across the floor before realising just how important it was.

"Hello?" came the voice of Felicity.

"They took my family," Sarrahson spoke. "Poisoned them against me. Good news is I've got what I need to find that fox."

"Do… -I'm sorry, I really am. We'll show them all, and you'll get them back. You'll get your happy ending."

"Yes I will," she said. "Though at this rate we could win and reveal everything, and it could still be too late. Doesn't matter, if my husband and son are still willing to defend them then, then I have no husband and son."

"Brave. Very brave."

"Thank you," Sarah said, taking a breath in. "Regardless, I knew that Silverfox has a girlfriend. Small, freckled, innocent looking thing. Called Agnes. Sooner or later, I can see her trying to visit them. -I find the girl, I find the boy, I find the foxes."

"Excellent… I knew you were the right mammal for this job. Only a small truly special set of chosen few are, but I'm glad my intuition was correct."

"Uh-hu…"

"Hold tight, let me work on a few things." There was a laugh from the other end. "Let's try the spying game, shall we?"

Sarah listened on and nodded, hearing a last few sets of instructions before setting the phone down. She stood up, walking forward and around the home, a stride in her step. Things were going to be okay, things were…

She froze as she realised she was halfway to Karen's room, only Karen wasn't there.

With a sigh she turned back and down, opening up Dik-Dok. Some self recorded idiocy might be in order, it would be all the more satisfying when she showed them.

She almost recoiled as an angry red and white face appeared, ready to give yet another stupid rant. Yet today, she settled down, smiling. Oh he thought he was so smart. Well, she'd show them. She'd show them all.

.

.

.

.

"That's a… -That would a big fine back in Zootopia. A really big fine."

"What can I say," Jack said, pausing as their taxi driver gave a honk, the errant rhea that had been standing in the road slowly walking to the field beyond. "This isn't Zootopia."

"I know, I know, just…" Judy said, the car moving forward again. She gazed at the bird through the window, a basket-like muzzle covering the front of its beak but not the sides. It could turn its head and scavenge, but it couldn't peck out weeds, seeds, mice…

"They don't regulate their livestock industry to death," Nick smiled, even as he received a thump on his side.

Up front, Jack ignored them, keeping his eyes peeled. "Yeah, left here and…" The driver, ignoring him, followed his phone and turned left. "Carry on, carry… -Yeah, this… -I remember this!"

"How long since you last saw her," Skye asked.

"Decade at least," he shook his head. "I shouldn't have waited this long, I… I'm going to get the chancla for keeping away this long."

"If she's that nice…" Carmelita began with a smirk.

"Well, I deserve it, I…" He paused as they pulled up, his eyes rising. "We're here!"

Out he jumped, a pair of sandals he'd purchased at the airport kicking up a cloud of dust. The others followed, Skye, Carmelita, Lt Vixen, Nick and Judy. Murray, Tigress and 'Dave' exited a large mammal taxi right behind.

In front of them was a long, high, whitewashed wall with patchy paintwork and the odd streak of rust crawling its way down from the iron spikes along the top. In the centre were two doors, a large heavy metal one that Murray could probably, just about, squeeze through, and a small well-worn wooden one perfectly sized for Jack and large enough for the foxes to duck through.

"Well, she's been expecting me…" Jack began, moving up only to halt as it swung open, an old doe looking out. Thin and lanky in places, but at the same time a bit wide around the gut and chest, her fur was an earthy grey brown riven with white fur, a snowy white patch across her chest and running up her neck. Two wide, lightly darkened stripes were on each cheek, pulling back from near her muzzle to the back of her head for her lower set and the base of her long ears for her upper.

She looked on at them for a second before her eyes lowered at Jack, a massive grin growing on her face. "Mi pequeño Seis-Rayas!" She raced forward, pulling Jack tight into a hug. "Mírate ahora. ¿Cómo estás?"

"Bueno abuela," Jack smiled, taking her back into a hug. Her head fit well below his chin, but he cradled down to hold her tight. "Tengo mucho que decirte."

She pulled back, giving him a quick swat on the nose. "Eso te pasa por estar ausente tanto tiempo."

He chuckled a little, only to pause as she pulled away, looking at Judy and frowning. A frown that increased as she looked at the others in attendance. She pulled away, going back into the compound before walking out, a spare flipflop in paw. Jack's ears swung back, but before he could react further she marched right passed him, right towards Skye, and slapped her on the knee.

"Ah… -Hey!"

"Abuela…" Jack began, only to get cut off as she marched straight for Nick.

"Pregúntelessi quiren contraer anquilostomas o algo así," she grunted, the fox stepping back a little even as he deigned to take the slap.

"I suppose bunny grandma's are bunny grandma's," he said, Judy walking in ready to object.

"Listen, you may be Jack's grandmother, but I will not accept you going around giving speciesist abuse to…"

In a flash she was twirled around, a slap whacking down just below her tail, her body going rigid and ears stretching upwards. Nick looked on, swearing they'd somehow sharpened into points from the shock.

"I like her," Dave said, earning a glare from Judy as the old indomitable hare marched straight for Tigress, bringing the chancla down towards her foot paw. The tiger shot her foot back, easily dodging the…

"-Huh!" She stared down, jaw going slack as she registered that she hadn't, in fact, dodged it.

The old bunny looked over to Murray, the hippo already raising his paws only to be met with a smile and wave, one shared with a very happy and entertained sheep, as Abuela Savage turned to Carmelita.

"Well," Nick huffed, "now it's your…"

Carmelita gave a bow, the hare leaning forward and patting her head. "Confíen en que ustedes dos zorras sean las sensatas. Y el chico hipopótamo también."

"-Hey, I was in there!" Murray smiled.

"What gives?" Judy asked, as the hare walked back into the compound.

"She asked if you wanted to get parasites and stuff," Carmelita said. "Walking around barepaw like that."

The bunny paused, looking down at her bare feet, then at Nick's, Skye's and Tigresses.

Jack, stretching up and down in his flip flops, smiled. "I told you you should have got some."

Judy glared at him as Abuela Savage walked out, flip flops for Skye, Judy and Nick, and old plastic bread bags for Tigress.

She smiled, grabbed Judy and led her in, finger up and wagging in her face. "No quiero ver ningún mal ejemplo a los kits de la novia de mi nieto favorito."

"Okay," Judy said, smiling as she shuffled into the sandals, the older hare holding her tight and…

A nervous Hmmmm-hmmmm cut them off, Jack raising a finger before pointing at Skye. His grandmother looked at him, then her, then Judy, stepping away and giving a few pats to her head.

Before giving Skye a long look over.

Jack chuckled, smiling a little. "No es que pudiera tener cachorros de todos modos." Out his paws came, as his grandmother looked at him, then at a nervous Skye, then back at him.

She shrugged. "Supongo que no." She smiled, walking over and waved them in, pulling a switch inside the compound. With a heavy electric clunk the large main door was unlocked, a bag-footed Tigress opening it up.

In they stepped, all halting at the sight in front of them.

Jackrabbits.

Lots of tiny, tiny, little Jackrabbits.

Turning to the new visitors, putting down their toys or stopping their games, they wandered up to them. The oldest was probably six or seven while in one fenced in corner around a plastic swing and slide set Judy could see a bunch of toddlers still under two.

Nick broke the silence. "Hi there!"

And soon there was a whole tidal wave of talk. Spanish, liberal smatterings of basic English, even a few odd other words that some of them guessed must have been Zapotec. Jack's Abuela loudly told them that they were guests, to say hello but not to bother them too much, etcetera etcetera.

Looking forward, Nick studied the actual home itself. While the outside of the perimeter walls were all old whitewash, the inside were just bare brick, patchy mortaring still showing out. On one side was what looked like a large timber shed, the way the old matriarch was gesturing Murray, Doug and Tigress towards it suggesting that this was a large mammal bunkhouse. Cramped for sure, but it would suffice. Next to it was a large fenced off set up, containing a big set of open cooking surfaces, along with fridges, freezers, and metal store cabinets raised well off the ground. The actual house in the centre was massive, for bunnies at least, rising up three or four storeys. The lower floors were whitewashed and beautifully decorated, but the upper two were bare brick, the roof on the highest section missing.

"It's just as I remember," Jack said, sniffing a little as he walked up to the door. A few older bunnies in their lower teens looked out, some of them holding full on little kits in their paws.

Nick looked up at the half-completed structure. "I guess they really do take ages to build things here then."

"Oh no," Jack smiled, rolling his paws a bit. "It's a tax thing."

Nick looked up at it and smiled. "Tell your Abuela that she is an inspiring mammal who takes after my own heart."

He tapped her and translated into Spanish, the old hare looking up at Nick and chuckling, tapping her fingers along her nose. All before she walked up and grabbed a bell, pausing before she gave them a look. "La mayoría sabe que sus padres vendrán pronto, por lo que intentarán hacerlo todo rápidamente."

It was Carmelita who translated. "Remember the craziness of the Hopps burrow? Well, get ready."

All as the bell rang, all eyes turning to the hare. "Tu primo Jack Savage ha venido con algunos amigos de Zootopia. Nada mas. Se bueno."

Whatever she said, it was like she'd shot a firing pistol, the young hares walking forward and jabbering out in a mix of three different languages, paws up clinging and touching at the various larger mammals.

All of them looked at each other, saw the eye-roll from Jack's Abuela as she moved off to the kitchen area, and then just submitted.

Some better than others.

Half an hour later there was a knock at the door, a large number of adult hares stepping in, giving the newcomers an odd look but otherwise being content to summon their kits and take them away.

Skye, waving bye to a pair that had been busy playing with her tail, looked over at Tigress. She'd been swamped at the start, but now looked almost defeated. "Was I really that boring?"

"Yes," Doug said, sitting in a chair and reading a book in the corner of the compound. "Though unlike me it wasn't intentional."

"Dou…-ave," Skye scolded, before shaking her head. "Seriously, just ignore him."

"I suppose I should," Tigress said, nodding as a little doe walked up to her, arms going wide.

"¡Gatita Rayada!" she burbled, holding up a little tiger plushy. She then went forward and hugged Tigress' legs. The big cat was unsure at first, but slowly settled down and started stroking her, before letting her chase her tail around.

"-See, you just need to find the right kits and the right way to play," Murray said, as he juggled four screaming and cheering kits up in the air, before placing them down next to a slackjawed set of parents. The four immediately turned to the giant hippo, jumping up and down in front of him.

"Again! Again! Again!"

"Sorry kits, I've got a line to deal with here," he said, turning to the long queue, getting even more frantic as more cars began appearing outside.

"-You'd think they got the call and were rushing in to rescue them," Judy said, as she looked back to her audience and put her paws up. "Sorry."

"Lo Siento," Jack cut in, translating for her. And with that, he waved them on. Nick and Judy were down on the ground, as Carmelita, a whole set of pillows tied around her, stood on the edge of the building, her shock pistol out and ready.

"What are you going to do, kill us?" Judy yelled, as Jack filled in.

"Monstruosas ovejas malvadas." Jack spoke, arm thrown out accusingly to Carmelita. "¿Es así como planeas terminarlo? ¿Derribarme antes de que pueda revelar tu loco plan a la ciudad que traicionaste?"

Carmelita cackled, paws out wide. "¡No, estupido conejita!" And with that she pulled her shock pistol down in a dramatic pose. "¡Él lo hara! ¡BLAM!"

And with that she 'fired', Nick jerking out, paw shooting up as Judy, turning in terror, raced towards him. "Nick, NO!"

Carmelita gave a loud evil cackle up into the air. "¡No puede evitarlo! Y ahora morirás entre sus dientes, tu símbolo de amistad con los depredadores se convirtió en un símbolo de su maldad. Será tu nombre lo que pronunciarán mientras queman a los depredadores de sus casa y los matan a tiros."

"NEVER!" Judy yelled, only to turn and flinch as Nick got up on all fours and began prowling after her, cornering her against the wall. "So that's it, huh," Judy began, Jack translating. "Prey hate Pred and you stay in power."

Jack translated, Carmelita bellowed out her own snide, self congratulatory line, Nick prowled forward, growling, ready to…

-Jack's abuela cut in and whacked him over the head with a chancla, to the howls of laughter from the kits and Dave, who'd otherwise remained entirely silent with his book. Nick just gave his audience a look, all as a set of new flip-flops were slipped onto his front paws. The fox gave a glance back at her as she hurried off to the kitchen, the propane on and the old lady busy preparing dinner for her guests. "Tells you something about how she keeps her yard, doesn't it?"

A few kits chuckled in laughter, the laughs increasing as more began to translate.

Jack, sniggering, put his paws up. "Recuerde, si la abuela hubiera estado allí, todos los malos habrían corrido a la cárcel, ¡con las patas cubriéndose el trasero!"

"¿Crees que eso los salvaría?" came a shout from the kitchen, more laughter coming out.

But all went silent as Nick turned to Judy, prowled forward, Carmelita leaning forward with an evil grin on her face that was so good the doe bunny swore she must have seen reference pictures.

"Adiós conejita."

And then he bit her neck and she screamed, Carmelita up above giving a loud cackle to the air, devolving into a full on evil laugh. "MUHAHAHAHAHA! MUHAHAHAHA! MUHA… HA…. haaaaaaa…."

She trailed off, looking down, soon followed by the rest of the mammals. Standing at the entrance to the compound were at least two dozen adult bunnies, looking on slack jawed at the scene. From the kit juggling hippo, to the pillow clad vixen on the roof, but mostly to the red fox with his jaws around a doe bunny.

Jack, seeing the sight, rolled his paws on and Judy reached down, throwing out a few red ribbons. "Blood, blood, and death…"

"Sangre, Sangre, Y la muerta," Jack followed on.

"...-Sigue siendo mi palabra contra la tuya, y soy la alcaldesa," Carm shot out, as Judy pulled out her carrot pen. "¡No puede evitarlo…"

On it played, as Lt Vixen stepped out, a fake moustache under her nose and two party hats on her head like horns. "Soy jefe de policía. ¡Vas a la cárcel ahora!"

The kits burst out into claps and cheers, the assembled mammals coming out and bowing. Even Skye, a set of old broom ends tied around her face, the brown brushes fanning out around her.

Doug made a largely ignored comment about gross inaccuracies and blatant propaganda in modern woke kit entertainment.

The parents still looked unconvinced.

Jack's grandmother looked on and drummed her feet a few times before her ears shot up. "Se oye cómo intentan prohibirnos darles bofetadas," she began, coming over to them and shrugging. "Necesitaba algo más si se portan mal, aquí viene el tigre y se los come."

The various parent bunnies looked at each other and sighed in relief, nodding. Calling back their kits, a few even pointed at Tigress, making a motion at her or miming biting or paws out and clawing. Many, telling their kits to stand where they were, even walked up, notepads or phones out, asking for a number.

Not sure what was going on, the massive feline smiled and began putting her number down, all as the parent bunnies gave knowing looks to their kits.

Eventually it was done, the tiger smiling. "I'm not sure what I did, but I think it was good. Right?"

Jack fumbled a little, trying to think of something to say, before a little hare doe cut him off, hugging on to Tigress tight. "¡Gatita Rayada!" The big cat carefully but gently wrapped around her with a paw, the little girl giggling.

"Sure," he said, thumb up and giving a wink. "It was great."

.

.

Whatever it was, it was soon forgotten as the night went on. The sky dark, humming with insects, the last of the mammals from the extended family returned from whatever late shift they were working to pick up their young kits. Some of the older kits who'd been helping out left and, as the small numbers of little ones who remained were all put to bed, Jack's abuela Langhaied her guests into assisting around the house.

Murray and Tigress got the most of it, suddenly being presented with a bucket of paint that had been dropped off outside and asked if they could patch up the outside areas of the compound. It wasn't a hard job by any means and they got on with it as the smaller mammals helped out around the compound.

Most food and such was served on banana leaves, allowing them to be thrown away afterwards and the mammals to not bother with washing, but there were plenty of bits of cutlery as well as bottles for the smallest that needed to be washed up and ready for the next day. There were three dishwashers present, and quick work was made of both unloading them and reloading them up. Of course there were also the bed sheets of some of the older young guests. A large washing machine was present, so large in fact they needed a step ladder to get up to it and the hanging lines were set up on a set of pulleys, so they could be lowered and raised.

Pinning a freshly cleaned blanket, complete with a bunch of smiling cartoon characters on it, to the wooden frames and starting to haul it up, Judy turned to look at Jack, eyes resting on him as he worked his way through his phone. "Finally burned through the motivational drive, huh?"

He paused, looking up at her and shrugging. "No, I'm just doing what she asked. Checking the weather forecast for tonight to see if the monsoon rains are coming and… -No, they are not. Not until late tomorrow at least."

He turned to his abuela and repeated what he'd researched, the elderly doe nodding and saying something back in spanish.

Judy nodded on before looking up at the set-up. Against the side of the main house was an extendable awning, one that could shelter the drying clothes from the rain. Indeed, looking down, she saw a whole set of drains around the outside. She shook her head, they may have been on the drier lowlands here, but they were going into jungle weren't they?

That meant rain.

Lot's of rain.

"Excuse me," Doug said, as he walked across with several different linen bins, throwing them straight into the now empty washing machine.

Judy turned and looked at him for a second or two, eyes slowly boring into him.

"What?" he asked.

"What's your game?"

"I thought I said it. It took a moral objection to Rattigan and what he caused that night, I want to bring him down. Is that so irrational to believe?"

Judy thought for a second. "-Yes, entirely."

"Why?"

Judy just stared at him, mouth hanging down, before she marched up. "You… -You tried to kill me!"

"When?"

"I… -On the train?"

"No, that was Jesse and Woolter, running after you despite the fact that it was pointless."

"Well," Judy grumbled, crossing her paws. "At least you recognised you were doomed then."

"No, I knew that a freight train was on its way on the main line and would kill you and your fox in a horrific accident," he shrugged. "All avoidable had you not stolen my lab train in the first place."

"I… -Well what about the time you darted Manchas and sent him against us."

The sheep paused, thinking for a second. "Oh yeah, you're right. I forgot that one. Bit embarrassing really." He paused, looking down at Jack's Abuela. "Coffee por favor?"

She froze, staring at him, then up at the night, then at Judy. "¿Lo sé, a esta hora de la noche?"

The bunny shook herself straight, as Jack came up. "Decaf?" he asked, Doug shrugging as he turned to his grandmother. "Descafeinado."

She thought for a second before shaking her head. "No. Chocolate?"

"I…"

"-Say yes," Jack said. "Say yes."

"I…" Doug began.

"No, you're wrong, say yes."

"Sure, why not, por favor."

She smiled. "Llevar los pañales al contenedor de basura al final de la calle por favor."

He looked at Jack, waiting for a translation, only for the hare to walk inside the house, walk up the stairs, start moving around. Doug looked down at Judy, then Lt Vixen as she finished up, before the doors to a balcony at one end of the house swung up. Jack and Skye dropped down two large plastic bins each, decorated with baby decals, before stepping back and looking at the sheep.

"Dumpster down the street," Jack said.

The sheep just stared for a second. "Oh wow, diaper duty, what a horror show."

"Never was," the hare smiled.

Doug ignored him, taking the lids off the bins, tying up the bin bags, and then left the compound, walking away as Jack looked down and asked his abuela where the replacement bags were. She gave her reply and the pair turned, walking back in, only to freeze as Judy called out.

"-Wait. What was the whole thing with the chocolate?"

The hare turned, looking back. "He may be evil, but even I have standards."

"Right…" Judy said, one ear semaphoring down.

"Anyway, he's being a sport so far." He said, Skye looking on, unconvinced. "Don't worry though, had my mother got decaf, I'd of swapped it for the real stuff in a heartbeat."

"Good… I guess," Judy muttered, looking over as Lt Vixen walked over, carrying a bunch of the plastic cot mattresses which she'd been hosing down. "I'm sorry, is this all part of the plan or…"

"Local resources," the vixen smiled. "Making friends with the local population, endearing yourself to them, and getting a free meal out of it."

"Okay, but is it really that good?"

.

.

"Ohhhh yefffff, iffffff reallllllyyyyyy iffffff…"

Judy swallowed down another one of the tortillas, watching over as Jack helped to form another. A quick press of the cornmeal dough ball on a press and it was then thrown down on the hot cooking surface. All as some of the bowls of food were moved up, the main one being an at first unappealing looking brown sludge made of black beans mixed with chunks of other vegetables, some broccoli florets in particular sticking out.

Scratch the looks though, they were delicious. Same for the strips of carrot, greens, peppers, cabbage and other vegetables that had been frying through all their work and were now waiting, bowled up, and ready to be added on.

All covered in all sorts of spices, hot and tasty.

Judy looked on as a mixture of the good stuff was mixed up, pausing as she asked if she could have some of the stringy white cheese added to it. Jack translated and she shrugged, giving a comment.

"Gracias," Judy said, smiling as the plate of food was passed over, the bunny digging in.

"She said it's your indigestion," Jack said, smiling.

Judy gave him a look. "Didn't she have some, and sour cream…"

"You had more in your firsts than she had all night."

The bunny paused, looking down.

"-Don't worry," he said, smiling as he held up his taco, containing a mix of fatty, twisty, brown and red meaty bits, cooked with peppers and smelling of paprika, all covered with both cheese and an egg. "I'll be having it far worse."

"I think I'll be too," Skye chuckled, biting into something similar. "These are delicious. What are they?"

"Tripas," Jack smiled. "Lots of the poorer pred families have them around here. We never did… But hey, when she learnt she had some of us going around she called in some favours."

Judy looked over curiously, taking one and nibbling. Concentrating enough to cut it down to size, she swallowed, nodding. "They're… Okay."

"I'm so so," Carm nodded, as Lt Vixen shrugged.

"All the more for me."

Doug looked on. "You understand you're debating the flavour of the small intestines of ratites, that have been cooked in a way scientifically proven to make them carcinogenic?"

Judy wilted back, Carm pausing for a second before shrugging.

"Seriously," Jack said, shaking his head. "If the bit of the animals that deal with the crap is this good, I know why you preds did what you did."

Skye looked on, a little smile growing on her face as she leant down and whispered into his ear.

"Ahem," he smirked, "I am the most delicious, thank you."

"Regardless," Nick said, "with that context I think I know why I prefer the chapulines." He smiled, taking a paw of the small red grasshoppers and throwing them in his mouth, giving a satisfied chew as they crunched out."

"I admit, I'm enjoying all of this," Tigress said, turning to the matriarch, still working the griddle. "Your hospitality is much appreciated. And your cooking is delicious, I…"

"¡Gatita Rayada!"

They all turned to see a familiar little hare doe holding on to Tigress, tight.

Abuela Savage turned, looming up as if ready to give the little one hell for sneaking out of bed, only to pause, shrug, and throw a paw to the wind, returning to the kitchen and wrapping everything up.

The last of the food cooked, she turned off the heat and pulled out a few metal pots of water, putting them on to warm up.

As she did so, Jack began speaking. They'd gone over what he'd say before. Talking about how they were on a mission, how the mammal who had caused the damage and chaos up in Zootopia was coming down to find something.

Her ears pulled back and she pulled up her chancla, speaking out angrily and waving it about, Jack smiling along and laughing. In the end she settled down, letting him continue. About how they were seeking something, a treasure, something they were certain was linked with the old bat caves up in the jungle, with the worst of them, who…

She froze, turning to them, saying something.

Not in spanish.

Jack slowly began to reply, trying to string together his own limited words in zapotec.

His abuela nodded, beginning to hum and sing a song. The words unfamiliar. She rocked back and forth.

Jack nodded along, listening, before breathing in and out.

"It's an old warning song," Jack said, looking at them. "Ghost story, legend…" He shrug. "The demon that made the great cats of the lake turn back. The bats of the forest, who would take the kits in the night and take them away. Into the jungle, into the caves…"

"Vampire bats?" Carmelita asked.

"No, however hated they were…" He tapped his paw on the table. "They'd drink from birds and livestock, they couldn't just carry kits away."

"Only a flying fox could do that," Carmeltia interjected. "We're on the wrong continent for that."

"Some large birds," Skye said. "Up in the deserts certain rodents trained and flew harris hawks…"

Carm looked at them. "We all know what repressed memory it probably is."

They turned, looking at Jack's abuela. He asked a few questions, she nodded, speaking along.

"-She says that there was a nameless cave -caves?. Above the closest to this ocean the river barred from it reached. Dark things done there. Bad bats. When mammals came, looking for guano, mammals with guns, nobody shed a tear when they marched up, when they refused to give up their centuries of filth, when they died for it."

The old doe nodded, before spitting on the floor.

"That narrows the position down," Lt Vixen said, as the hare moved the semi-boiled water over to a clay jug. A chocolate paste had been spooned in, and she poured the hot water in before starting to whisk it together. "We forward that information to Bentley, he could look at records, geological maps, we…"

She was cut off as Abelua Savage raced forward, waving her paws, speaking out loud in spanish.

It was Carmelita who spoke back. Trying to reassure her. Calming her down. Showing her shock pistol.

In the end, she was still unhappy, angrily stirring up the chocolate until it formed a brown foam.

The vixen turned to them. "There are contra groups, rebels and such, in these areas. Gangs." She sighed. "The one led by 'The General', they're coming south. Supposedly, to help some treasure hunter or something…"

"So they are connected," Murray said.

"And she says they're quiet, but lethal."

"Sí", she nodded, handing over the whizzed up chocolate concoction, spoons in and ready. "Como el de fer de lance."

There was a jolt, Jack letting his glass slip down onto the table, a tremble in his paw. His abuela looked at him, concerned, taking him in a paw and spoon feeding him some of the desert. It helped, somewhat.

"So be it," Lt Vixen said, taking her own spoonful and nodding in appreciation. "Does she know how close they are?"

The question was asked.

"Coming close," Jack said, in between spoonfuls. "Not here yet, but getting close."

"We tell Bentley everything we know then," Carmelita said, taking a sample and pausing, ears going down and a soft purr coming out. "Santa madra de esto es buena… -regardless, if we get a lead, we get there, start exploring, hide, prepare." She breathed in and out. "Remember, we have one massive advantage. We expect them to come, they will have no clue we're there."

Judy nodded. "And until then?"

She expected Nick to answer, but instead, of all mammals…

"Eat this delicious chocolate stuff I guess," Doug said, taking a spoonful.

.

.

.

.

The jungle gave Rattigan the creeps. He couldn't help it. Mammals he could beguile, bribe, outsmart, outwit.

Here in the depths of nature, there were creatures that could take him in a second.

He was wise enough to show some humility after all.

The various mammals standing around him, weapons in paw, looked on. The army, currently guarding where his stealthed drone had landed, looked on as he made his way up to the small camouflage tent.

Where The General stood, waiting.

His figure was there, in the darkness, the rough silhouette and a single glint of an eye. Watching him.

"I must thank you," Rattigan said, bowing. "I wasn't sure if anyone had spotted me on that last little hop I had to make, but as always you were able to take care of them."

A soft chuckle came out from the other end. "Nothing too challenging. Do you want to see their faces?"

Before the rat could respond, a few photographs were pushed forward, different mammals, different ages, the old, the young…

"Oh don't try and guilt me or anything," the rat smiled. "After all, you did the deed."

"That I did."

"All for the mission," Rattigan agreed, bringing out a map and laying it on the ground. "I need cover, resources, support, we're exploring these caves here to…"

Click…

He froze, looking up to see a steel barrel pointed straight at his forehead, hammer back and soft furred paw on the trigger.

The silence lingered on.

"All you get if I die is every ounce of detail of you and your operation leaked to Interpol," the rat spoke, teeth grating together.

The General chuckled. "You come into my tent, and start making demands of me. Ordering me around. As if this is your army?"

Rattigan watched as a brown paw reached out, grabbing a roasted leg of some bird. Up it came, four sharp incisors cut into it, the mammal chewing before swallowing.

"Do you fear death, Rattigan?"

"Do you?" the rat asked.

He chuckled, putting the gun down, spinning it. Far too large for Rattigan to handle, but he moved up a paw to reveal a small rodent sized recoiless paw-gun. One shot, but it was enough.

The General looked on, chuckling. "It's liberating. To be free of it. To pass through and back the other end." He leant forward, the light revealing the scar up over the ruins of an eye. "The bastard Keehar gave that look. Took me to death, and I clawed my way back. A new mammal."

Rattigan looked on, a smile growing. "Keehar, hmmmm?"

"He goes by so many names." Another bite of the leg, chewing, swallowing. "Those of the northern forest talk of the thunderbird, screaming across the night. The Apache…" He took another swallow. "Their feared warriors would hold their cubs and calves tight in night, less the great owl Pia Mupitsl take them off." He smirked. "Or to throw them as bait, to save themselves. Or most likely, so they could go together. The terror in the night. The silent killer. The ender… of all of this." He gestured around. "The one who takes you to the next place. But why is that bad? Why fear the ferryman? Curse him, oh I do. Revenge on him, I desire more than anything. But wherever he goes, to lose your fear of him, is to be liberated by him. Go ahead, do it. I assure you." He spoke up. "He who wishes to shoot his general. Here I am!"

The mammals, battle hardened, thousand yard stares or unhinged tics across their faces, did nothing.

Rattigan laughed. "Like an old friend back home. I'm doing him a favour. I can do you one now."

A short laugh. "Really?" He leant forward again, his single twitchy eye staring at him. His battle scarred muzzle up in the rat's face. Long, chipped and holed ears pulled back.

"If you know of keehar, you know of Niedelines."

His eye went wide. "You know of my people."

"Enough," Rattigan smiled. "Like Keehar is known by many names, so is Niedelines." He pointed back to the map. "He left something, down here." He tapped around a set of areas, circled in red. "Something we can steal from him, as we scourge the place. Like your Efrafan ancestors."

He nodded, smiling. "Like my namesake, who took the elite Inle Owsla to Keehar's house, and submitted it to his wrath. I like that. I do."

"Like the General of old," Rattigan smiled.

"Like myself, today."

.

.

.

.

The raccoon looked on, muzzle strained before he let out a laugh, legs kicking in front of him. Muzzle pointed up to the sky, he wiped at his eyes as the Dik-Dok tune rang out, moving down to the next video. "Oh no, here he comes again." He watched on as a small red mink-like mammal filmed himself, stepping on board a small remote controlled boat and setting sail on some small back-water drainage ditch somewhere in the Canal District.

Sly listened on as he began going over the invasive species present in there, and how the city wanted them gone but most mammals wet their pants at a predator like him taking them for free for his own consumption. -Also that there were alligators out there, they had a video, but the city hall tourism board was bribing them very handsomely to not release it.

Sly just watched on, smiling, pausing as he heard a spring like noise and looked over to see Po catapulting himself up next to him with the help of a bamboo stalk. The panda landed in a power stance, balanced on the ridge of the roof and then looking down at… "Wait, you've found those guys too?" he asked, Sly pausing the video just as the boat got buzzed by a duck, its captain declaring war and turning her around, shouting out that he was going for ramming speed and pulling out a sharpened knitting needle to mount on the bow. "-I love those guys. They're like, not awesome, kinda the opposite, but they know it and that makes them even more funny."

"Nah," Sly said, "it's just one of their solo channels." He turned forward, looking down at the city spread out below him, trees filled with lights rolling down to the light filled canals and waterways down below. He chuckled. "Out of all the things you guys did in the near decade I was gone, who'd of thought my favourite would be a Ewetube with vastly reduced functionality!" He smiled, pressing play and carrying on, grin increasing as a barrage of incoherent rage filled screaming began coming out. "I never thought I'd find an incredibly ill-adjusted khonorik this amusing, but there you go," he waved, eyes widening as a set of loud flaps, quacks and screams rang out.

Po nodded. "It's almost as if growing up on a remote island full of only predators, varying levels of social trauma and bitterness and a general lack of self awareness leaves you entirely unprepared for the various compromises required for life in a well functioning multi-species society…"

Sly gave him a look, an eyebrow rising.

"Ahhhh, is it that obvious that Bentley said that?"

The raccoon nodded. "Honestly I'm more curious about why Bentley was interested in this?"

"Something to do with him being on a boat near Shen's ship or something, trying to find any other news on what happened to that wolf and his Clockwerk horcux talisman fileactory thing…" The panda looked out across the city. "They've landed."

"Huh?"

"They've landed," Po said. "Juchitán de Zorrogoza airport, they're at Jack's abuela's, they've even learnt some good hints that Bentley's working through."

Sly nodded. "Good…"

"Murray wanted you to know they're all good, and they hope you're all good too."

"Thanks," the raccoon said, looking forward again.

He turned down and played another Dik-Dok video.

Po sided up to him, giggling a bit.

He laughed at the next one.

Full on laughed out loud at the next.

The next one… "-Sorry," Sly said, "just a badger aerobics class by the looks of it, I'll…"

"-Oh no, I love this one," the panda said, getting up and starting to star jump to the song. "So catchy. -Badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers…" He jumped into a squat, arms curved above his head. "Mushroom… Mushroom…"

Sly looked on.

" -Badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers… Mushroom… Mushroom… -Badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers… Mushroom… Mushroom… -Badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers, badgers… AH!" the panda winced down, clutching his side in pain. "Stitch… Ah stitch…" He settled back down next to the raccoon. "Stitch… Stitch… Oh it's a stitch…"

"Well, don't go eating before doing aerobics," Sly said.

"Yeah…"

The raccoon scrolled on to the next video. "More of Weasel's stuff… Hmmmm, I…" He turned to see Po sitting there, leaning in. "Yes?"

"Oh, uh, just wanting to make sure you're fine. Fine fine. You know."

The raccoon nodded, slipping his phone away and looking out at the artificial jungle below. "I know."

…

"And… Are you?"

Sly looked up at him, cocking an eyebrow. "Do you think I'm okay?"

"I… -don't know, but I guess not."

"For thousands of years Clockwerk haunted my family," he said with a casual shrug. "Always there, like a ghost story, some records of him noting him close, sometimes even attacking once every few generations or so... As he watched, as he waited… The soul of a creature driven by hate, so envious of our family that… -So hating our family he lived for an eternity, made himself immortal, did all that crap to anyone who got in his way as he waited. Waited until the night he broke into my family's home with four allies. Not that he needed them. Waited until he could kill my father, and my mother, as I cowered in a closet hearing their screams. Hearing them beg, or fight, they didn't have a chance. Hearing his rage as he ripped into them, his satisfaction at ending the Cooper line." He paused, trailing off. "Or rather proving our legacy, our heritage, was meaningless. That we were just a book, a record of traditions or skills. There was no great bloodline, no destiny, no nothing. He let me live to prove that. I didn't matter, he…"

Po looked on, an arm slowly coming around the raccoon as his foot began tapping on one of the tiles, its rattling sound ringing out into the night sky.

"He took true sadistic pleasure in making my father suffer. For all his own pain and suffering, he wanted to repay it as much as possible," Sly said, turning and looking Po in the eye. "That's why he tortured and killed my mother first. So Dad could watch. That's why he ripped apart our family book, in front of the mammal he'd just mortally wounded. Why he made a gesture towards the closet I was cowering in, paws over eyes, to make my dad's last moments be the fear that I would be next."

Po slowly lowered his arm around Sly, nodding. "I… I'm really sorry, I…"

Sly shrugged.

"-Only," he paused, looking down. "That last part, how did you…"

Sly chuckled, a large broad grin growing across his face as he stood up and walked towards the edge of the roof. "How did I know that Clockwerk did that, hmmmm? Good question. Very good." He turned back to Po, eyes narrowing as he put on a secretive cool voice. "Do you wanna know how, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. Was it some super secret thiefy instinct or…"

"-No," Sly said, shrugging as he turned to look back at the city. "When I touched that little fragment of that monster's soul, when he realised who was touching it… What memory do you think it rammed into my brain?"

"I…" Po winced up, a pained and then pitiful expression on his face as he looked down at the raccoon. "I…" he said, fumbling a little. "I am so sorry, I…"

"Nah," Sly said, paw up. "It's okay. I just felt every ounce of rage and vindication, felt and heard each and every bone snap, felt the warmth of their blood on my talons… Heard their whimpers and cries and begging and fear and everything he himself was thinking in my head."

"I… -I don't think many people would be okay after seeing that," Po said, walking up next to him.

"And I wasn't, but I'm getting better now."

"Are you?" Po asked. "-Because it's great if you are, we are all worried, and…"

"Well yeah, and maybe I'd rather not linger on any of the bad thoughts," Sly said, turning and raising an eyebrow. "So, now you know and can tell everyone, I'd rather get back to some of this mindless brain rot and stop those images replaying in my mind over and over if you don't mind me."

The raccoon pulled out his phone and marched back up to where he'd been sitting, nestling down on top of the ridge and playing a new video.

"Brilliant idea."

The raccoon paused, glancing up at Po, an eyebrow raised.

The panda returned an equally confused expression. "What? It is! Horrible idea occupying your mind, if it's just stuck there sometimes you need to find something to distract yourself."

Sly breathed a sigh of relief, smiling as he carried on looking at the phone.

"You know," Po said, "it's really healthy what you're doing, how you're taking it."

"It is?" Sly asked.

"Yeah," the panda agreed, casting his gaze out across the city. "Panda King… -I knew he'd done bad stuff in the past. Terrible stuff. I had issues too, I… -I was raised by someone not of my species. -It actually took a really embarrassingly long time to clock that I was adopted." He chuckled a little.

"Never got that chance," Sly said.

"And… -I remember some bad stuff when I was a little cub," Po continued on. "For a long time, it tore me up, made it harder to focus. I suppose Panda King had that only with his guilt, the gnawing anger at how he'd been humiliated when young… After all the work he'd put in, and just how much he'd enjoyed being bad." The panda looked up to Sly. "And you were the one to help him with that. -First by beating him up and all, but then by showing him the path of humility, the path of coming to peace with the past. Helping him come to inner peace with himself."

The raccoon nodded along.

"Panda King had let his rage consume him, let him hurt others. He'd done a terrible thing. That had happened. That was it. Now what? He accepted where he had come from, and where he was going. Inner peace."

"I… I'm sorry I missed him."

"I am too," Po said quietly. "He died helping his friends, he died awesomely. And I can accept that, just like I can accept the things that happened to me, and that they don't define where I'm going next."

"Yeah," Sly said, smiling. "That's, that's good."

"Yeah," Po grinned. "And you."

"Yup," the raccoon nodded.

"That monster did terrible things to your family, for no reason at all."

"I…" he began, before going quiet.

"But you survived, you ended him, and we're gonna do it permanently."

"Yes," he said, looking back to Po and nodding.

"-Because you are Sly Cooper, master thief, you didn't start the fight but you ended it…"

Sly glanced back down at the city, ears going back.

"-And you accept that. Isn't that right?"

Sly kept his gaze lowered. "Uh huh, inner peace and all that."

"Oh yeah," Po smiled, suddenly pulling the raccoon into him. "And, for the blues and stuff, we can keep you happy as they fade away. Heck, forget Dik-Dok. I can really help you."

"Huh?"

Po let go of the raccoon, arms out wide. "This is Zootopia, Sly! Where anyone can be anything," he exclaimed. "And there's far more fun stuff out there than a phone with an app on it."

The raccoon thought for a second, scratching his chin. "Like…"

"Well, oooh, we could go on a rollercoaster for a start. -You can even still watch your videos while waiting in the queue. Or something else, I don't know, what's your favourite thing in the world to do?"

Sly stood up, deep in thought, glancing around.

"-That makes you happy like nothing else."

His eyes looked on at the Rainforest district, Savanna Central, the small corner of Tundratown reaching up into downtown and, beyond that, the expanse of Sahara square, the town glowing. And rising up from the middle, towering up above the rest… Wasn't that?

"-That you were born to do."

The raccoon smiled. "Is it okay if I do this alone? You know, a little me time?"

"I, -if it's what works," Po said.

Sly chuckled, a cunning grin growing across his face. "Then I think I might have a plan."

Chapter Text

Chapter 9:

.

.

The air was hot and loud, expensive cars pulling up and mammals dressed in their finest stepping out. Music poured from open doors, the laughs of those out on the town filling the light filled night. Weaving through them all, a comparatively small raccoon spared a glance to the enticing lobby, opened up like a clam and with gold, diamond and green-backed pearls gleaming inside.

Sly paused, giving them a quick look over, curious to see if any mammals were coming out more… Broken than others. After all, he mused, looking up at the light filled windows rising up above him and the great cantilevered palm fronds beyond, that was this place's speciality.

Sure, it was all above board, but sometimes that was the coup-de-grace of the ultimate master criminal.

Which made this master thief all the more hungry.

He turned away from the lobby only to freeze, squeals screaming out. Tires, at first. Looking back, a battle fleet of massive black cars had arrived: Cattilacs, Landroarvers, Pferdcebes Bärnz, even a massive Humroar. The many lights of the Palm Hotel reflected off their polished bodywork and gold trims, in stark contrast to the soulless voids of the tinted windows.

The Humroar opened first, a razorback boar, tough, muscled, scarred from multiple battles and half ready to start a new one walking out, the rest following. Half drunk, half about to get drunk, pumping their fists, calling and squealing out. The only thing not present were wads of cash, but Sly saw the locked metal briefcases.

He knew enough about mob politics and the many interesting ways of not getting Al Catponed to figure it out, his smile growing.

One of the boars froze, sniffing the air before looking off into the distance.

Only to see nothing there.

.

.

With a heavy clunk the gate at the back began sliding shut, the mammals all around watching the semi-truck turn and reverse into the open loading dock. Large boars stood by, waiting, looking, faint lines of disgust painted on their faces as they glared down at a raccoon and badger supervising the delivery, walkie-talkies in paws. A second raccoon dressed in chefs' whites looked on.

Back door sliding open, a mist formed as the chilled interior hit the hot outside, a haughty looking camel walking in, dipping his head so his chef's hat wasn't knocked off, frown growing on his face. One that failed to lighten as the raccoon grabbed a truffle from a container, shrugging his shoulders.

The camel just turned his gaze to some red coloured bottles, frown curdling before turning to his mammals. "I want this offloaded and prepared for the conference guests. The bottles are his responsibility," he cast a hoof down at the raccoon. "The real food's ours." He clapped, the mammals walking in, picking up the goods and loading them onto trolleys. The raccoon picked out a pair of camels and directed them to grab one too, 'for the good stuff.'

Only for the camel to turn and order otherwise. Only a few bottles were needed, the nightcrawlers could handle that.

An angry row brewing, mammals faced off against each other, warning what the bosses would think when they learned who had screwed this up.

None noticed a silent figure slip out from behind the driver's cab and race along the top of the lorry, halting above the door. A quick scan around, the loading dock was protected by an overhanging canopy which itself had vent stacks and extractor grilles placed into it.

Easy.

Only, a little too easy.

Sly knew places like these had been getting a lot tighter on securing the vents and other passageways. However, a quick look around and he spotted a very promising alternative.

The argument still in progress, Sly crawled forward and saw the raccoon chef carrying one of the contentious red bottles, placing it down and then turning to retrieve some more. He smiled, pulled a stone from his pocket, and with one well timed throw.

A smash rang out, all eyes turning to a caracal, his tail instinctively pulled up close to him and body frozen still. "It wasn't…"

That was all he got before the raccoons and badger turned on him, the camels and other hotel staff leaping to his defense in return, all missing a small figure leap overhead, run along the wall and hook a lamppost with his cane, launching himself forward. Another quick wall run followed by a jump and he landed on an ajar window, slipping himself inside.

From between two fast running washing machines his eyes landed on a stack of neatly dried and pressed uniforms.

.

A raccoon chef stormed out into the main lobby of the hotel, arms pumping and black and grey ring-tail swinging behind him as he passed by diners and servers, his claw tips almost sparking across the marble floor. A few members of staff, dressed in formal suits, saw him and backed away, not wanting to even tempt getting on the receiving end of such an artiste's inevitable tirade.

Leave him alone, just like with the group of laughing boars moving towards the elevator.

Sly modified his path, just a little, walking over towards a large indoor rock garden full of flowering cacti and colourful succulents. Slipping behind a palm tree trunk, he gave a quick gaze in with his Binoccucom and saw one of the porcine posse swipe a card against an in-wall reader, before pressing a button encrusted with gold and lapis lazuli. The lift openned, in they got, their car closing and making its trek up.

Slipping his comm away in his pocket, he worked his shoulders, feeling the solid mass of his cane's hook up against the small of his back. And with that, on he walked, making his way towards a different set of lifts, only to just skirt by a warthog heading off in the same direction as the rest of the boars first, getting a bit too close as the tusked mammal turned and pushed him away. "Well I…!" Sly began, immediately backpedaling on his prima-donnaness "-I apologise sir."

"-You better!" the warthog yelled, turning towards the same lifts as Sly looked into his paw, frowning as all he saw were a few green bills. Shrugging, he stashed them away, carrying on his determined march, this time aiming for a prim looking mongoose carrying a small plate towards a staff lift. The small mammal, focussing on his own job, jerked suddenly as the determined raccoon almost collided with him, throwing him off balance and forcing him to use both paws to stop his tray from spilling over the floor.

"You dropped something," the raccoon huffed, pointing at the floor. The small mammal turned to look only to find nothing there. He looked back to see the raccoon leaving, probably a blessing.

He walked on, making his way to a staff lift and reaching out with his keycard and…

He paused, paw tapping the side of his trousers. He then looked down, frown increasing as it wasn't there.

.

.

"HIT ME!"

The dealer slipped his paw out to reveal a five of clubs, the hulking razorback laughing a little. "Look at that fellas! Twenty-one!"

They oinked and cackled, the sound filling up the gilded private room. On one side were the windows, diamond shaped between the rich brown supports and detailed as they rose up, the Palm Hotel's outer skin. The floor and walls were cool white marble, the columns inlaid with rich blues and reds as they climbed to a high vaulted ceiling filled with stained glass lanterns, casting a kaleidoscope of colours down below.

Slipping out of a small staff door and making his way along a narrow lighting gantry, Sly slipped off his disguise and packed it away, re-assembling his cane as he listened on.

"AND YOU KNOW I WANNA!" The pig laughed before sighing. "But I know, I know. Alas, it is too perfect for dis' world. Hit me!"

The jackal nodded, dealing a queen and pulling back the chips.

"Look what you did to mah baby!" the boar wailed, more rounds of laughter rising as a pink skinned sow walked around, topping up their cocktail drinks and dodging the odd pinch and grunt.

A different boar tapped the queen, sighing. "You know what they say Vinnie, it's always the lady, eh?"

Squeals, oinks, laughs and trotters banging on the delicately gilded tables rang out. The lights above danced and shook just a little, the odd shadow cast up on the roof going unnoticed.

Instead, two of the boars, feeling into their pockets and only coming up with heavy wads of cash, turned and began to make their way towards the chip exchange. Other razorbacks were lining up, offloading wads of cash, a studious lion counting them one by one. Squaring each set off, he crossed off a line in a black ledger before gesturing for the next set.

There was a pause, no expression registering on his thin, short-maned, grey flecked face as he counted. "Four-hundred short."

"I…" the warthog began. "Stupid cheetah short changed…"

"In which case you report it and pass it over to recovery," the lion said, a claw pushing his glasses against his brow as he turned to a sheet. "You called in that debts had been paid…"

"Yeah, yeah, anyway, sure you can…"

"Four-hundred. Now."

A smile plastered on his face and an empty martini glass in hoof, he leant forward. "Come on, buddy to buddy, ya burn the thing anyway…"

"Not before the boss will learn of your irregularity. Would you like me to inform him personally? At the conference?" the lion asked, a boar further back in the queue leaning in and saying something about just stumping up…

He got a heavy shove for his effort, two pigs, then three, then four starting to square off, pushing and squealing.

The lion straightened his suit and reached down to pick up his walking cane, watching and waiting.

The two boars at the back of the queue gave each other a look and headed off to the bathroom instead. A bit shaky on their legs, they passed a set of palm trees, knocking and rustling them. Opening the door, one last rustle sounding out, they entered in, the lights from the lanterns bobbing ever so slightly.

.

"-What kind of a wise guy he thinks he is anyway!?"

The other boar looked on as Vinnie threw his arms out wide, waving as he spoke, spittle thrown against the glass mirror in front of him. He just nodded and chuckled on, avoiding the use of the fur clippers he'd procured until he was certain a sudden movement wouldn't come about from his partners antics.

"-THIS IS WHY YA COUNT AND DOUBLE!" he continued, arms now gesticulating so wildly his own set of fur clippers were thrown back, sliding clean out of his trotters and crashing down on the face of one of the otter maidens delicately inlaid into the mosaic floor, smashing itself apart. Vinnie scowled, turning and looking over at it, glancing around to see if anyone had seen him. Thankfully the room was empty, the only movement a door to a changing cubicle waving slightly in the breeze. A glance over to the door in, closed; a glance over at the toilets, empty; a glance at the heavy-duty mud-removal showers, ready and waiting.

"There's nuthin' Vinnie," the other boar said, clippers on and working on the rougher areas around his jaws. He stretched out his chin, profiling it, all as Vinnie grunted and reached down, pulling out a long white cloth and a jar of polish. Rubbing the former into the latter, he hung it over one of his tusks and pulled it tight, working it backwards and forwards. Fast.

"I mean mammal know ya have pride in ya work," the other boar said, clippers down and a long thin file pulled from a red velvet pouch. He began working on his trotters, Vinnie glaring at him and grunting.

"Yeah, yeah, how long yous been thinking of that, rather than saying I have an anger issue. I know, I'm working on it! -Might go over and wallow a bit before the night is out. That my prescription, huh!?" He gestured at a steamed-up glass door to the mud baths before shaking his head and starting to polish his other tusk. "I mean I don't believe it, huh! What kind of mammal doesn't count his earnings! Stinking fast cat, probably pulled a quick snap and tuck -didn't even see it."

The other boar chuckled. "Pulled a fast one?"

"You feel real proud of youself for that, don't ya?" Vinnie grunted, spitting into the bowl. "An now you're probably gonna say the 'wise' guy thought he could hustle the boss outta his dough. As if he'd got that far, to be that stupid, over a lousy three digits. -An don't go saying the Teller didn't count properly, he don't. Hell, maybe I'm real mad that stinking warthog thought he could actually weasel himself in front of the Teller, to his FACE! Today! Stinkin'… I don't believe him… Better win it all back or…"

"-Now, now winning it all back really is just stealing…"

"-From the boss with extra steps, I know! Not like I 'lose' thousands here every night," Vinnie ranted. A smile grew over his face. "Though maybe he was stupid enough to try gambling somewhere else, huh?"

"Ha… Not the first, not the last," his partner said, sighing before letting out a chuckle. "But is he asking to be a meal offering tonight…"

He received a punch in the arm. "Don't joke about those leeches!" Vinnie hissed, "Stinkin' Goombears one thing, but those…"

"Even after the Goombears wrecked up the city…"

"Some Goombears," Vinnie muttered. "Some are as bad as the Leeches. But all Leeches are Leeches, ya hear! YA HEAR!"

"Yeah, I hear! Can the Leeches!?"

Vinnie glared at him before shaking his head. "Don't care. Goombears tearing up the city, biker wolves going clean, Leeches working with us, maybe I shouldn't be surprised one of our own tries to pull one." He finished polishing his tusks and threw the cloth down, hard. "That just takes the biscuit!"

"Maybe," the other boar said. "Or maybe something else. Maybe he just got pickpocketed."

"Ha! Well, whatever pocket weasel popped that, I say is either very stupid, or very brave an' stupid." Vinnie sniggered. "Nah, I bet that idiot forgot it somewhere. Still, what kinda mammals we letting in, that does that!" He spat down. "Not like us old razors could ev…" He froze, trotter coming down on his pocket with an empty slap. He shuffled it along it for a second or two, his other trotter racing down to his other pocket and feeling around. Nothing. And then they started in a flurry, diving into back pockets and suit pockets…

All as his partner laughed, freezing as his own trotter rested on his back pocket. Then his other trotter checked the other, before both were frantically searching themselves.

Inside one of the changing cubicles, one foot paw resting on the top of the hinge and one hand paw holding on to the cane that kept him pulled upright and off the floor, Sly smiled as he heard the frantic commotion outside and looked through the wads of cash he'd just acquired. Stashing them away, he turned himself around, planted both feet on the walls, and climbed up his cane. Reaching out, one paw grasped the dividing wall between this cubicle and its neighbour, the other soon joining in to shuffle him along, away from the door, and then pull him up.

Balancing on the narrow surface, he kept his ears perked as the other two began making their way out, Sly quickly slipping down as they smashed through the door in a hurry. As it began closing he calmed his breath down, eyes looking to the shadows, and keeping to them, movements swift yet controlled as he slipped practically invisible through the room to a small alcove. From there, all eyes still on both the warthog, now lying prostrate in front of the lion known as 'The Teller', and the unusual antics of Vinnie and co, Sly had no issue sneaking over to a small set of statues and climbing up them. Up and over, into the lighting gantry, safe and all the more in the know.

He pulled out his Binnocucom, looking out over the scenes as he mulled over just what he'd learned. Vinnie and co were busy searching, other pigs going around and tactically losing and, staring down at the bespectacled lion, Sly saw the big metal case down by his leg.

Currently being filled with more binders of money.

The raccoon licked his lips, slowly prowling along the outside, studying it all from varying angles.

The Teller looked up in his direction, Sly diving down before scooting along, the dust along the seldom cleaned walkway working its way up into the base of his fur. Slowly crawling himself along to a different section of wall, he tucked his ears down and slowly peaked up. As planned, a lantern lay in front of him, the view of the casino floor rippled and coloured beyond that.

The lion was back doing his work, counting a new stack of bills and…

The raccoon pushed himself up onto the top of the lantern, holding its support wire tight as he worked himself around, leapt onto the next, then the next, cutting the distance down until he was right above him, hugging the lanterns supporting wire tight, breath steady.

A lean over, it would be quick, it would be simple. A heavy cane hit to the head, a mad dash to the loot, and then?

-Well, the raccoon couldn't exactly see any way up to the lighting gantry close by, and returning by the way he'd come would leave him exposed and open for a brutal pig interception.

And in any case he was a Cooper, he was there to not be seen.

Now, if he could engineer a distra…

-As if on cue, a set of loud squeals began rising up, Sly looking over to see Vinnie of all mammals starting to accost someone. A binnocucom view in and…

Bbbbbrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr….

Sly pulled the thing away and tapped it hard, hanging up the call. Even on vibrate the stupid thing sounded like it might as well have alerted damn near everyone down there.

He pulled it up, only for it to ring again, Sly grunting as he turned to the telecoms switch and turned it firmly off. And with that he looked on again, seeing Vinnie, his friend, and the warthog from the start beginning to get physical with two others.

The raccoon smiled, his grin broadening as he saw the Teller stand up, paw up and palm open, silencing those next in line. He folded his book shut, slipped it in a jacket pocket and then clamped the briefcase shut, taking it with him.

Sly suppressed the hiss trying to bubble its way up out of him and instead made his way across the lanterns, following him, watching him dress the pigs down. They protested, starting to go on about how they had the money…

The Teller told them to stay where they were, making his way over to the lifts. Sly raced after him, watching on and making his way towards the entrance to the lighting gantry, a flick of his creatively procured access card summoning the service lift.

Time seemed to crawl on and on until, finally, it opened, the raccoon hiding behind the wall at first before the sound of nobody inside was clear enough for him to move in. Or rather move into the door, letting him jump up and stick a wad of tape over the gap between the inner and outer doors. They tried to close only to open again, sparing the raccoon enough time to parkour and scrabble up, claws driven into the panel gaps, pulling up as high as he needed to go to…

Reaching out, his cane pushed up and worked its way into the gap between the top hatch and the car roof around it. He couldn't properly open it, there'd be a lock on the outside, but if he just wiggled it he coul…

-He dropped down, claws screaming as they unhooked from the seam they'd been lodged in, but Sly grinned as he fell, feeling the cane hinge around and start to pull up the hatch. Not much but fingers crossed…

It sprung to a halt at a forty-five degree angle, the raccoon scrabbling up and pulling out a wire, focussing as he thread it through and found the small latch… Get it on, get it around, it was an awkward push… -He couldn't… Bending up and around, toes latching onto the other side of the hatch, he pushed as hard as he could an…

It jolted, the weight of him and his cane levering it open as the raccoon jerked himself up and managed to get a paw onto the hatch frame. Pulling himself out, keeping the stranded lift's hatch open in case he needed it again, he looked around the black void of the lift shaft. Already a screaming rumble was sounding out from one side, a massive counterweight swooping past.

But that wasn't what he was looking for.

Looking down, he saw a lift car a whole shaft away come to a halt, doors opening. Binnocucom up and peering through the crack, he thought… Maybe lion?

Binnocucom down, fortune favoured the bold. He leapt forward and let himself fall, across the empty pit, foot paws forward and out and landing hard against a support strut, bouncing him on again in time to land him on the roof of the now rising car.

He panted, regaining his breath, ear down as he listened inside.

He couldn't hear anything…

Well, he could hear something.

They were rising ever faster, up and up and up, the wind howling as the counterweight plummeted down past them. Up they soared, the raccoon slowly beginning to wonder just how far up they were going.

A thought entered his mind, only to be rubbed out by a far more pressing one.

Looking around at the gantries and cable gear atop the car, the raccoon lay himself down as flat as he could, below them, sparing himself from an undignified end via elevator squashing.

Hopefully.

Looking up, he began to make out the top of the lift shaft, a rather large indent present for the top of the hoist…

Sly gulped, starting to squeeze himself in tight as they slowed down, scanning around, hoping that he'd figured it out as he unstoppably approached the merciless looming hard place…

Making out the vent grilles, then their individual holes, then the stones in the concrete as…

The lift halted, a crawl space left between the car roof and the lift shaft ceiling.

Sly breathed out a sigh of relief, pausing as he heard the door open below him. He saw the hatch nearby but, rather than going for it, he crawled his way over to the edge and lowered himself onto one of the steel beams crossing the void in between the lift shafts.

He crawled himself around the nearest one, all as the lift he'd rose up on lowered down, before making his way to another beam, looking ahead, taking a breath in, and leaping into the void.

His arms snapped to a close around the wires of the lift car he'd broken out of, paws clamping tight around it and making sure he'd got a firm grip. Cane transferred to his teeth, he shimmied up, moving it back into a paw and attacking up at the grate filling the hole the wires dropped through.

"Come on…" He muttered, "Come…"

Groaning, he put the cane back between his teeth, shimmying up further and bringing out a small circular saw. Starting it up, it made quick work of the plastic, working its way around and cutting the pieces until…

"Gotcha," he smiled, pushing it out of the way with his cane, hooking it on and then, letting go of the wires, legs hanging over the black pit, he squeezed himself through the gears, pulleys and wires, up and into the lift room.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

From here, it was easy.

Amidst the rolling thunder of the lift motors he could also hear the running hum of the air plant and ventilation systems. Moving out of the lift room and working his way along, he smiled. Just plant rooms and storage here, plenty of doors but none locked. His feet made light work as he raced along, sparing a glance at the occasional crack or gap leading down below.

He was in luck. Whatever lay beneath had fancy roof-flush lighting, which meant the upper parts of the lights were exposed on his side. Covered by a layer of insulation, keeping the stifling heat up in the attic somewhat away from the presumed brisk chill below, but nothing he couldn't peel off.

He found the perfect first target, what appeared to be a large circular light fitting, for an intersection or hallway. Up the insulation came and, with a quick flick of a pocket knife he peeled away a strip of the light's plastic covering, the brightly lit LED's revealed behind. It would be too much of a risk to turn the light off, on a one and done it would be a brief thing of note down below but while filtering through to find a target… Once was a fluke, twice a coincidence, three…

Instead, he brought out his Binocucom and began filtering through the settings. -An interesting thing about artificial lights, they may look one colour but in actual fact they were several, different colour peaks along the spectrum then merging together to a mammal's eyes. But, where there were peaks, there were also valleys. Admittedly, he was still used to doing this trick in the time of old school incandescent, sodium vapour, mercury arc and those 'new fangled compact fluorescents', so it'd take a bit of tweaking before… He pumped his fist, a massive gap opening up between the blue and violet wavelengths, the rough shapes and patterns of the luxurious rooms coming into focus behind. He wandered around the perimeter of the fitting, looking for any signs of…

-Nothing.

He put down the light's cladding and the insulation after, leaping back onto the catwalk and carrying on. It would take a while and a bit of luck, but he was certain that he could…

He skidded to a halt, smiling as he saw a fire escape plan up on one of the concrete walls, giving him a perfect schematic overview of the site. Just as he expected, this was a plant room floor, likely the highest in the entire building barring any additional viewing platforms. But what interested him the most was that it was in the shape of a giant ring. Quickly guiding himself to the outer wall, he stepped into a massive room filled with air conditioner condensers, busy humming away, cooled pools of stagnant condensation water below them. Skipping and hopping between and over, Sly came to a grill vent in the outer wall, smiling as he saw the bejewelled city below, along with the balcony of a penthouse room and the fringe of one of the lower palm fronds. Already plans and ideas were forming, but he wanted to check out something else. More out of curiosity than anything.

He made his way towards the inside of the ring, keeping his eyes open and piecing together things he hadn't noticed before. Massive sloping concrete columns, sticking out of the walls or standing alone, getting more towards the vertical as he got closer towards the halfway point between the two sides of the ring, and the massive steel brackets and cables that he could see on their inner sides, pulled taught as they helped keep the supports for the massive decorative palm fronds held together.

He followed one of the cable lines towards the inner wall, finding an access door and, after a trivial lock pick, made his way out.

The dull echo of electro music perked his ears, purples and blues colouring his fur as he looked down. There, nestled in the crown of the palm with the massive fake leaves towering around and above them, was what must have been the most exclusive dance club in the city. Mammals were raving and partying, all underneath the cover of a huge geodesic roof, its triangular panes rising up shallowly to their peak in the centre, beneath the concordance of the various steel support cables coming in from each side.

Sly shook his head, knowing that his mammal wouldn't be likely to be heading there… Though still filing away that useful tit-bit of information. However, something else had caught his eye, and confirmed an earlier theory. The annular plant room was not the highest part of the building. Up above him, nestled beneath and around the mountainous bulk of the bases for the various main fronds, overlooking the interior bowl and presumably the external side as well, were massive penthouses. Some were three storeys tall, easily worth a million bucks each if they were merely located down on the ground somewhere, and maybe hitting the nine figures brackets up here.

Sly had to hold himself back as he realised he was salivating.

First, back against the wall and gaze turned up. He suspected there were around half to a dozen of these penthouses, depending on whether two shared the gap between each set of fronds… Maybe even fewer if a bunch were joined together. -Either way, the point was that he might well be under one, and one that was occupied at that. A quick glance though and he realised something else was directly above him. More of the mechanical plant or something?

He jumped up, climbing towards a gap in the panels and looking in, an eyebrow perking. A huge set of horizontal winding gear lay in front of him, along with two large empty concrete bays. It was the upper station of a cable car, or at least it was set out to be used as one, should the need ever arise.

For instance, you weren't able to sell all your penthouses and wanted to convert this place into something else, with its own special access route. Annoyingly it seemed that one of the things not yet installed were the cables themselves, so that escape route was cut out.

Turning back, Binocucom out, Sly scanned that other penthouses. At least half the windows were dark, a few of the residences had one or two lights on. But his eyes focussed on one at about ten-o-clock. Full sized, every light on and, focussing in, he could see some porcine figures in some of the windows, dressed in full black suits and toting…

The raccoon stepped back a little…

If there was any lingering possibility of a full frontal assault, it was now most certainly off. It was time to be extra sneaky, or rather extra extra sneaky…

Which led to a new question, how to get in?

This wasn't as easy as most other infiltrations, even to high-specced out buildings. With these kinds of sums, the building would be decked out with top of the range security designed to stop bats or mice from getting in. Kevlar inlays alongside the whole of the wall, ceiling and floor, inbuilt with anti-cut detection alarms; scanning cameras and microphones; electrified vent and pipe entrances.

Scanning around with his Binocucom for any signs of infra-red trip beams, the raccoon noticed a few before stepping away.

Paw on his chin he looked over towards a closer penthouse. By the looks of it, pretty much the same, albeit closed off and out of use. Of course, being out meant that a security system would most likely still be on. He judged things over for a second or two before making up his mind, slipping back up into the unused cable car station. Sure, it didn't have any use as an escape route or even an entry point, but if he was right it could present him with something else.

An alibi.

It didn't take long for him to find exactly what he was looking for. There, nestled up against a steel beam, sat a collection of twigs and feathers. Its occupants, brown and quiet, shifted as he approached, their speckled white underbellies and yellow beaks and eyelids exposed. Beneath them, their two chicks shook a little. Growing fast, but still young.

Sly gave a calm shushhh, carefully making his way towards them as he reached to his ankle bag and brought out a small dusting of powder, working its way along the edge of his cane. The peregrines looked back, one of them getting agitated, fluffing itself up and starting to make its way forward, beak out and panting.

Wings starting to flutter.

It took one step back and Sly snapped his cane against the steel beam, a flash of light igniting. The birds flinched, going silent, collapsing on their feet as they looked dead ahead, unsure.

Sly just calmly moved on, taking the nearest one and tucking him away. "You should be honoured you know," he said, making his way towards the cliff's edge. "That was the last piece of the Thievius Raccoonus I managed to recover. -Not the last bit of intel mind you, there were plenty hidden in codes or spread about inside, but that…" He froze where he was, taking a sudden step back, a gasp coming out from his throat.

One he pushed against, scowling as he marched forward once more. "Have a good time, why don't you?" He reached the precipice, hooking his cane around a steel support and leaning out around the edge, surveying the path forward before gripping the cladding tight. Feet finding holds, he worked himself around the end and towards the sloping roof of the hotel, balconies of the elite rooms below and the angular figure of an empty penthouse's front facade up ahead.

A few little more works along and… -He leapt over, feet landing on the small roof garden, terraces of stone and empty planters, sunloungers and private hot-tubs and pools rising up to a cosy overlook, a small lawn of manicure grass surrounded by greco-roman mosaic paths and colonnades. Beyond it was three full storeys of floor to ceiling glass, the night vision through his binocucom giving him a more than sufficient look at the sight within. A massive open plan atrium, sunken seating areas, kitchens, lounges, bedrooms, who knew what else branching off on either side. All draped in plastic sheeting, ready for an occupant yet to find his very humble abode, or busy on the other side of the world.

And looking up…

-Assuming all of these penthouses were the same, he was seeing some options…

He also noticed something else along the glass frontage. The hinges and the locks, and even closer, imbedded in the triple glazed panes themselves. Ever so faint but there…

The wires confirmed his suspicions about just how decked out this place was. Looking closer in, he even saw the sight of infrared heat monitors, standing sentinel over an empty room lest anything get it.

But were they on?

Might they even have found him out now?

Were it the infrared system and not the door locks and monitors he could have picked a lock, swung open a window, thrown the peregrine in there and have the security teams busy and distracted by a bunch of 'stinkin' birds' while he made himself busy. However, different problems led to different solutions.

Giving it all another quick look over, filing away every single thing he could for future reference, he patted the squirming figure in his backpack before grabbing on to the grooves in one of the lower columns, pulling himself up to the faked out break and then jumping from one to another, gaining enough height to then leap forwards towards the valley between this penthouse and the next, cane out and wedging itself between the grooves of the roofing material as his paws hooked on.

His tail gave a swish or two above the great void before he darted forward again, up past and around the erupting base of one of the giant metal fronds, up to the very peak of the proper roof as he then made his way around and towards the target of interest. Weaving this way and that, ducking around the massive green steel eruptions, balancing on beams between rooflights. The air had been still down below but up here it howled, whistling through his fur as it wormed its way through the passes. There was a soft rustling in the air from the massive structures up above, the solid steel giving way to huge taught fabric fronds, gently tugging against their anchors as they caught the breeze.

All as the electronic music from the central club pushed back against it.

Sly hooked onto the ever shifting front and he leapt over a bright lit light and slid down to the next valley. If his counting was right…

Down low, he made his way up towards the next apex, a long ridge of thick tough glass, sets of giant glass panes rising up to meet each other in the middle. He made it to the edge and looked down, scanning with his Binocucom and smiling.

On the outer side, it seemed to be set out with just a few rooms, albeit massive ones designed to host any megafauna guests. It was in the other two thirds that things got interesting. Set out like the last penthouse, albeit now showing itself off far more clearly. In the centre of the palace in the sky was a massive forum, open and wide and ready to host any function, two rows of glass lined balconies up above in case there were any onlookers curious enough to venture out of their rooms, or the gym, or personal spa or whatever.

As it happened though, as Sly looked down past the intricate contemporary hanging light fittings, everyone was on the ground floor. Busy at the diplomatic conference.

.

A small bony limb was curling around a fluted glass, see-through leather cocooning the column as it was raised up, the thick red liquid inside flowing back towards the waiting mouth, moving between two sharp pairs of fangs. With a satisfied gulp, the bat dropped the glass down, a smart looking raccoon sommelier taking it away, leaving the finely dressed mammal to look at those in front of him. The javelina, dressed in a white suit and with golden chains around his neck, looked on in thinly veiled disgust. The thin black boar next to him, standing behind like a shadow, just looked on.

"Mr Peccari," he began, smiling. "Please, do not put yourself at displeasure on my behalf. I am more than willing to go without for the sake of diplomacy with an equal like you."

The pig, an angry scowl growing on his face, brown-tan fur turning ever so slightly red beneath, shook his head. "I can manage the cannibalism," he snorted, "it's the smug self satisfied look on your face that I can't…"

"-Children." They all cut to three figures standing at the head of the table. The largest, a white wolf, looked over and scolded at them, her arms crossed. "I was told I would be here as an impartial middlemammal, not a cubsitter to petty squabbles." She laid a glare at the javelina, before turning a softer, if still somewhat harsh glare towards the vampire bat.

The former grovelled, sitting back down, while the latter waved away his sommelier. Both turned to the map of Tundratown laid between them, lines being laid out. Half complete ones here, circles there, notes and pieces of paper. Discussions moved back to a large set of docks near the climate wall, the black boar starting to calmly detail at length how it complemented the pleasure and luxury docks over in his home district and their desire not to be undercut, given the highly unprofitable and destructive temptations that a trade war might induce. The vampire bat raised in counterpoint his organisation's long-held desire for port facilities and how this facility, with its large set of cargo lifts to the nocturnal district, was by far and away the stand-out choice. More arguments and discussions began, a heavily tattooed mole rat furnishing the vampire bat with more details and figures, the javelina going on about how real mammals actually built infrastructure and that there had been plenty of potential sites over on the Rainforest side that could have been co-opted when its suzerain had chosen to abdicate her responsibilities.

The white wolfess stood silent, just like the young shrewette and older, kippah wearing grey rat lawyer to her sides.

Up above, Sly raced along one of the beams along the rooflight, up and over before ducking down against the side of the roof, scanning once more. Both sides seemed to have brought a small but formidable backup, tough razorback boars decked out in heavy armour and weapons on one side, a more motley crew of opossums, raccoons, badgers and a female vampire bat on the other. Binnocucom up again, zooming in closer, Sly bent his head before pressing the button to call in to Bentley.

"Hey, we've got some kinda…"

"SLY!"

The raccoon flinched back. "Shhhh…"

"What are you doing Sly!" the turtle scolded back, Sly moving the Binocucom back to his face. His friend was scowling, leaning down, face illuminated by the light of the computer screens as he typed. "What are you thinking! Why are…"

"Hey, I was just a little put off by the whole 'reliving my parents murder through the eyes of the murderer' experience I had, so thought I'd indulge in a hobby to distract myself. Relatable, no?"

Bentley just looked up at him, giving him a blank look. "So you're on the roof of the Palm Casino?"

"-Yeah, bit of fun looting here and…"

"-Get back now."

Sly blinked, before frowning. "Or what?"

"I'll tell Carmelita."

His mouth hung open, before shutting closed again. "That's low bro."

"As is running off to do a high risk heist with no backup, no plans, no recon, not even telling me before…"

"Hey, it was just a little thing at first, but I stumbled on a bunch of mob money laundering, and a UN conference."

"...A what?"

"A Uniatida Nostra conference, take a look."

He guided the Binocucom down to the map, discussions still going on over the port facility.

"Well okay then, you picked up a giant scoop for the ZPD and Interpol. You had your fun, record what you want and then get out of there. Don't do anything stupider."

"I… -Ah ha!" Sly jerked his binocucom up, zooming in on the figure of a lion tail peeking out from behind a wall. He began shimmying himself over, getting a better view and… "There he is," he said, zooming in on what was clearly the older lion from earlier, waiting patiently. Sly zoomed in close enough to see him flick open a gold pocket watch, checking the time and then briefly studying the inlaid picture on the other side. A sepia tinted photograph of a black and white small-cat of some breed, white eyebrows and smudge around the end of his muzzle, scowling green eyes and thin golden rimmed circular glasses perched on his muzzle.

"Is there something about…" Bentley began, as Sly moved down and focussed on the silver briefcase. "Sly…"

"That contains a ton of mob cash and records of their money laundering," the raccoon said.

"Sly. Do you want me to list the many reasons why engaging with that is a stupid idea?"

"Patience, patience, he's probably here to discuss some top enforcers losing their money, it won't be long before that case is dropped somewhere and…"

"They're on the hunt for the returned Cooper," Bentley scolded. "News is spreading among the underworld, more and more mammals know you're back, and…"

"And they probably know given that I met her before," Sly said, moving over to the white wolf currently arbitrating the meeting. "She's nice by the way."

"-So in that case…"

"I get in and out before they even learn that something is amiss! Easy."

"...One, that entirely contradicts your 'patience' line."

"I'm not much of a…

"Two, what happened in the past with Clockwerk Sly!"

The raccoon stared back, blankly.

"You KNOW you can trust us with whatever happened. We know what that thing was like, and…"

Bentley was cut off as Sly took the Binocucom away, turning it onto mute once more and walking along the length of the roof. Ears against the glass, seeing if he could hear anything or not. Their talk was mostly muffled though, as he got around to the megafauna guest suite he thought he heard… -Well, he wasn't sure what it was exactly, but it certainly sounded like a childrens cartoon.

Moving his way back along, Sly saw that the black boar had finally left the table, moving the way of the teller. The lion saw them, their eyes met, the boar said some words and the lion replied. The porcine mammal simply nodded and made his way back towards the conference table, Sly gritting his teeth.

Now or never.

He raced back towards the inner ring of the penthouses, looking on. There were four mammals at guard, a boar, a jackal, a fossa and a hippo. The small terrace they were on wasn't nearly as elaborate as the exterior sky gardens, but was still somewhat a size, and it would be a tight fit in. The door was closed, he presumed not locked but he couldn't tell, and even if he knocked four of them out cold someone inside might spot them.

Thankfully though there were the two floors above and, on each side, they had balconies looking out. Juliet balconies admittedly, so he'd have to balance on an incredibly thin ledge while trying to open what was probably an incredibly over-engineered lock… So not the easiest of…

He paused as he saw one of them open up, the raccoon sommelier walking out, cigarette in paw. Sly chuckled, reaching into his bag and bringing out the peregrine from earlier, struggling somewhat. Skipping back out of view, he brought out another little bit of powder, sparking it off in front of the bird to daze him. And then, walking out to the edge, he lined him up… "I'll try for that small pool, fella. No hard feelings?"

And then he lobbed him, ducking away as a splash rang out. There were a few shouts of confusion followed by a laugh, as Sly raced forward, hooking his cane on the roof to pivot himself around and send him down and in, straight onto where that poor unfortunate raccoon had been.

-And still was, leaning out further in curiosity. He didn't even notice as Sly slammed down on top of him and pitched forward in a roll, paw clamping over his muzzle before the scream could even come out. A push back, knocking his head on the hardwood floor, and he was out cold, Sly looking up to check the room. It was a small smoking lounge, thankfully nobody around, and he quickly pulled his victim over to a lounger and set him up in a recovery position. Glancing over his shoulder as he went, he stripped him of his clothing and stuck it over his own, even grabbing a tray and cloth, balancing them to somewhat hide his cane.

The disguise wasn't perfect by a long shot. Even those on the Sahara Square mob side might realise something was wrong if they looked at him for too long, yet alone those on the side he worked for. But it should allow him to walk along the emptier upper balconies with somewhat of a cover. His heart was beating furiously. He felt his fingers twitching.

This was living.

He walked over to the door, ear on it before walking out, the upper walkway empty as he'd expected. All the VIM's were downstairs, discussing, squabbling. Slipping into somewhat of an alcove, he bought out his binocucom and zoomed in on a hanging stainless steel orb of some kind, one of many decorations hanging from the beams of the main corridor's full length light fitting. The reflection of the main meeting down below was distorted, but he could make it out. A line was being drawn out by the javelina mob boss, who took a drink of some spirit as he did so, returning and coughing slightly…

The whole mood on the table changed for a second before the wolfess walked over, marked out an equally sized divot going the other way, and carried on. As did the raccoon, thinking he heard what he assumed was the grey rat making a comment about the wolfess following in the pawsteps of the greats.

Sly meanwhile was moving around the midway point of the room, stepping as close to the edges and shadows as he could as he kept himself as inconspicuous as possible. A glance over as he followed the path on its square detour around the wide central hall, and those at the table were still all there… Still hadn't seen him. He slipped into a corner, Binocucom up, finding a bit of golden gilding and making out what looked like the Lion once again. Still waiting. A lean out and he saw that the black boar was next to the javelina. Had he informed him, was he waiting?

Sly just kept on moving around, ears pricking as he heard what definitely sounded like kits cartoons playing. Either the owner of this place had decked out his elephant sized room with a jungle gym to make the ultimate kits playroom, or… Well, Sly didn't know what and despite his curiosity, he had his priorities.

He turned sharply as he found a staircase going down, making his way along and getting ever more careful as he reached the base. Peaking out, he saw the lift and stair lobby, sized for the largest guests, the lion waiting there dutifully, his briefcase down by his feet. -The only problem was another group of guards by the door. Once more, two from each side.

Still, looking around Sly noticed something of use. Near the lifts and stairs, just recessed enough by the wall to be hidden, was a large cupboard with a small electrical sign placed on it. A glance around and making sure that the eyes weren't on him and he darted across the void, back against the wall, before reaching up with his cane and gently opening the door. He slipped in, night vision on his binocucom showing out the various distribution boards and breaker switches for the penthouse. Almost all in one large set. He smiled, climbing up to one in the dead centre, opening the door and slipping in a small powdered charge from inside his hat. Indeed, it looked just like his hat. However, with the flick of a primer switch it became something much more destructive.

Moving a small electric relay to the base of his cane, he closed the door and walked out once more. Spying at first, but then slipping out and closing the door, waiting for the right moment to return and…

A buzz of activity rang out from across the hall, chairs scraping and mammals on the move. Sly saw the lion stand up, smoothing down his suit, before ducking back into the electrical cupboard to hide himself as mammals began to move. Through the narrow gap he saw the black boar arrive back, this time with the javelina, his face glowing red as he barely contained his rage at the interruption.

"Don't they know we're hosting the stinkin' leeches here! Don't they…"

"They do," the lion said, "Which is why I believe an outside influence is at play here."

"I…" the javelina grumbled, looking to the boar for a second. The black mammal gestured at the lion with an open expression, his boss looking back and waving him along.

The lion dutifully followed, Sly waiting for the heat to clear before pushing on after them. Eyes open, feet silent, he heard them climb one floor, then then next, ducking around the corner to see them walking towards a thick oak door, the javelina inputting a code on an electric keypad.

His heart began beating faster as he saw the opportunity open up. He slipped off the trappings of his sommelier disguise, looked up and saw the brass railing of the balustrade and the long metal beams and decorations on the hanging light fittings. One leap, then two, and he was on them, racing along with silent feet, jumping and weaving past straining support cables as he stooped down on his prey, leaping out fast with feet forward to meet the railing as his cane came down, claw on a trigger up top and detonator button on the base.

It clicked, a soft bang echoing out as the penthouse was plunged into darkness. The trio turned, just in time for a bronze cane to slam into the lion's face and hook on, Sly jerking to a halt mid-air and dropping down, cane swiping at his loosened claw as he charged forwards, pulling the heavy briefcase up against him and racing out of their range.

The mammals down below were already beginning to whisper, shout, scream, even trumpet in dismay, the three behind screaming and yelling out, as Sly panted, pushing with his legs and jumping once more onto the railing and then up onto the light fittings, barely able to do it as he heaved the heavy case with him.

This was gonna be a tough one!

But he'd done the hard part. Race along the edge, leap down one level, out the way he came in, across the tensioning cables above that nightclub and…

A sharp pain cut through the tip of his tail, his eyes widening as his feet started to stumble, almost slipping off the pinnacle of the light he was balancing on and sending his next stride to the side, forcing him to contort his body to make the next leap. He whipped his tail around only to hear a flutter and a laugh, a dinner plate sized shape cackling as she flew up and past him, almost taking an ear. He scowled, bending his legs again to make the next stride before realising a fall was coming up on him like a speeding freight train. -He leapt to the side out of its way, one foot balancing on the balustrade before he dropped himself into a fast combat roll on the walkway. He was still on the other side to the pigs and lion, so there was only the bat to…

Zip "AH!"

He smiled as he sprung up, turning to see a female bat twitching as she tried to recover her flight, scowling at him as she did so. "WHAT THE GUANO WAS THAT! DID YOU JUST ELECTRIFY ME!?"

"What can I say," he smiled, eyes narrowing. "Rolling, fur, static electricity, now if you don't mind…" He froze mid sentence, eyes widening as they turned to see the opposite side of the hallway. The javelina, boar and lion had no chance of catching him. Instead, the big cat was raising his cane up, the end pointing at him and looking very gun like. He ducked just in time for the end to flash, a deafening bang ringing out as the glass to the balastrudes shattered, a rain of shards hitting both him and the bat.

He grit his teeth, he could cope, just get a distraction down and leg it! Fortunately he still had some of that flash powder on the end of his cane and with a flick against the brass it sparked, a pop and a flash lighting up. The loud bang of the gun going off ripped out milliseconds after, followed by the ping of it sparking against the metal pawrail and hitting the wall well above him.

The raccoon wasn't even going to give him time to re-aim, he jumped up onto all fours, briefcase clutched under him, and leapt through the shattered remains of the glass wall, head smashing through and a smothering pain coming over him, before the whipping cuts of the glass woke him up again like a bucket of ice water. Eyes open, he saw the next level down on the opposite side coming up, paws out to guide him over and down, landing prone before charging forward once more.

The main squad of mooks were one floor below, the gunmammal was directly overhead and blocked by the walkway above, the…

He heard the fluttering of wings and turned, eyes widening as she came again, something long and sharp flashing out towards him. Head jerked back, the fur against his neck cut, he swung his cane at where she was going to be only for her to narrowly dodge it, laughing as the ground began to shake.

Another thrust, she missed again, the raccoon realising her eyes were welded shut, -even if he had the time to get more flash powder on his cane end it wouldn't do anything. And she didn't need to do anything either, just hold him there as whatever was bearing down on him like an avalanche caught up.

He turned and gulped, realising that the megafauna suite had very much been used for its intended use, a massive and now very angry gas-mask clad elephant letting out a muffled roar through his air filter as he swung the table the map drawing had been taking place on around and straight at him.

Sly leapt up, backflipping as the massive piece of furniture bulldozed into the glass and brass, sweeping it all straight beneath him and beyond, punching through the glass wall at the end. "Thanks for the escape route," Sly smiled, racing on and away, only to scream in pain and look down, a brown figure trying to bite through his fake fur leggings and at the artery beneath. He dropped into a roll again, trying to build up the static charge before realising that it was just charging her up as well. All as she furiously worked her way up, biting and clawing, trying to find purchase of a terminal wound to…

He saw the elephant race ahead and try to reach out with his rubber clad trunk. Sly halting on the spot and leaping forward, cane out in front of him and slamming him between the eyes. There was a muffled roar of pain, followed by a crashing and shattering as he fell back into the walkways behind them, bending them out of shape. Mammals down below were barking orders and screaming in panic, the bat beneath him had disengaged to yell out the pachyderm's name -Gus or something… The raccoon just leapt back again, paw going down and grabbing the vampire just as another loud rifle shot rang out, slicing across his back in a whip of pain.

Sly landed, crushing her against the wall with his paw before turning, hooking her with the crook of his cane and sending her tumbling away, screaming as she tried to regain control. All as he picked up the briefcase and ran, paw into his bag and coating the end of his cane again with what he realised was the last of the flash powder. WHY HADN'T HE STOCKED MORE!? Oh right, of course, he was an…

He touched it against the broken frame of the window, the flash coming out and the mammals down below covering the exit wincing back. One of them began letting rip, peppering the way up with paralysis darts. The raccoon could only throw out another one of his hat mines before looking back, freezing in terror as he saw both the elephant recover and start towards him again and the lion beyond turn onto his level, cane starting to rise.

Sly detonated it, yells of panic coming out as he charged forward regardless, even as the blind firing at his easiest way up continued. Instead, the raccoon aimed for something else, leaping out into the void and looking at the mammals down below. Two were down for the count, one was firing blindly and the other trying to reload his weapon, spotting the raccoon and trying to turn around.

Sly threw another mine hat their way, causing them to turn and panic, just buying him some time as he fell past them, feet shaking as they touched down on the guy wires for the palm frond supports. He was racing forward, balanced perfectly on the high wire, instantly. Racing over the geodesic dome, the revellers beneath there partying on regardless. One massive crowd, packed together, if only there was a…

Sly glanced back, seeing the mammals in the penthouse pooling out, weapons starting to rise. -And he flicked the end of his cane against the wire, seeing them flinch back and yell as another hat mine went off, the raccoon reaching in to find he was running low, no time to do a full count. He armed it as fast as possible, bunching it up and throwing it down in a rushed second before leaping after it, the end of his cane pulled back to touch onto the wire, setting off the detonator as it touched the waiting glass panel.

He didn't know if it just spiderwebbed it or fully broke it before his cane end swung down and kicked it open, his weight cutting him through in a sudden blizzard of slicing pain before he slammed into the trunk of a fake palm tree. Or a real one, it was hard to tell when his nose did the feeling by being slammed into it. Claws scrabbling, he held himself for a second to catch his breath before dropping down and around, carrying the briefcase past the few confused revelers and beyond, into the throngs too EDM'd out to even notice the bloodied procyonid who'd just busted through their ceiling. He brought up his Binocucom and opened the link.

"Bentley, I…"

He winced down a bit.

"-Okay, good to know you care, even if you're now wearing the 'I told you so' look. Anyway, I need a pick up and… Oh good to hear, meet you soon… -Fine, if you insist, we'll talk."

.

.

"WHAT WAZ THAT!"

All eyes turned to the javelina, so furious his face had gone beet red, visible even with the lights still busted up. A few mammals had brought out torches or their smart phones, a hurried meerkat server was going around and bringing out candles to light them.

The javelina paced madly, pausing as he saw the lion march up to him, an electric device held out and several tough looking grunts behind him. "Good! Get that thing BACK!"

The lion nodded and marched off as the black boar returned. "Security has closed off all exits to the club and is on their way to intercept him on the dance floor."

"Great," his boss snorted, turning around and giving a heavy kick to a mangled piece of balustrade that had peeled off. "All I need, bad reviews for the most exclusive club in the city! My prize jewel! He couldn't go steal my actual one so he… so he! Who does he think he is!? Some Coopah wannabe!"

"-Oh yeah, and more," came a sardonic reply, as he looked over to see the female vampire bat. She'd been tending to the fallen elephant but turned to face him. "That hat mine and flashbang stuff, that's prime Cooper clan." She shrugged. "I guess the electrified rolling must be too."

"Sly Cooper was much an unknown before he revealed himself," the male vampire bat said, turning his gaze from the naked mole rat, who in turn was tending to the raccoon sommelier. "And the other members of the gang were still active."

"You're saying Sly had a Pup, Vlad!?" the javelina barked out.

"That or just an heir, an adopted raccoon from some orphanage, who knows. There were reports ever since the chaos of that night. Many that the real deal has returned, to this city."

"-It's true." All eyes turned to the white wolf.I met him that night, I helped him and the Dark Flame Wolf try to hunt down Rattigan.

"-AND YOU'RE TELLING ME THIS NOW!?" the javelina roared, marching over to her, hoof thrust out. "YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING BEFORE TO OFF THAT WORTHLESS…"

A loud bellow from the elephant cut him off, the masked figure shaking his head back and forth slowly, trunk pointing at the enraged mob boss.

He huffed and panted for a second or two, before turning back to her. "Care to explain yourself Lang?"

"You know I'm as out of the game now as these two," she said, pointing down at the two rodents. The shrew had been shaken up so bad she was crying into the rat, who was trying to give comfort. "Besides, given what we've just seen, consider how any attempts I might have made to give a favour to my old side would have gone. Not including the presence of the most feared vigilante in the city next to me."

He shook his head and mumbled a few things. "You know at least the leeches and their crew tried somethin'... I'm gonna have some pretty big bills comin' up here," he gestured around.

"I suppose I can lend my mammals to…"

"Oh no, this is a league above what grubby biker paws can handle, I want cold hard cash and…"

"How about a favour to downplay any media storm against the jewel in your crown?"

He looked at her for a second, a small smile growing on his face as he began to laugh. "You wolves. Screw the foxes, you're the sneaky ones. I…" He turned to see the lift opening, a group of mammals moving out, carrying some heavy boxes between them. "Good, Vinnie, prepare to repay the new raccoon induced debt you just have. You and you boys, set them up on the inner balcony, pronto."

They nodded, marching off as the javelina worked his hooves over each other, sniggering. "Okay, prepare to see how real mammals do it. Mr Cooper's relaunched career is about to come crashing right down with a nice prickly surprise-surprise."

.

.

Sly worked his way through the packed crowds, even managing to bounce and mosh with and into them. Lights were flashing, paws were up, a glance and he saw the two DJ's, a coyote and a deer both wearing some bird-plague mask things dancing on stage. He ducked to the side, making his way towards a signposted fire escape exit only to…

Seeing a bunch of black suited security mammals turn up he changed direction, pushing the other way. Towards the main entrance and…

He breathed in, breathed out, looking around. The centre of the nightclub had some kind of pavilion on it, over the musicians, and there were some operable windows that he could climb up to if he could get there and…

A flash of black coming in at his side and he sidestepped, thrusting out with his cane and clubbing the jackal security guard in the adam's apple, sending him back before hooking around the back of his neck and pulling him down onto the floor, jumping over. Picking up the pace, looking around, even managing a few jumps and boogies to try and blend in. But the mammals were coming, closing in, so he chose to make a break for it. Up towards a set of steps, filtering through and leaping onto the railing to climb up, balancing as he went and skipping over the thrown arms of…

An ibex cut through and thrust his horns out at him, Sly balancing back before grabbing on and letting himself get launched over with the backswing. A sea of horns greeted him, and what were horns and antlers and heads but very unusual ninja spires for him to race across. Some of them began to yell and shout as he raced over, before ducking down below as he heard the whizz of a tranq dart race past. Skipping through the kicking legs, he kept going through the maze as a boar and a jackal emerged on him in a pincer, tranq's drawn. Sly raced forward, punting the former's hoof up with his cane and sending the dart flying into some unfortunate civilian while swinging around to use his body to block him from the jackal. The pig made a swipe for his cane but Sly pulled it back, whacking a camel guard between the legs with the curved end before stabbing the pig in the solar plexus with the pointy. Dart gun down, the jackal curved around to get a better shot, Sly diving and swiping at his legs before rolling underneath. Up, the canine's tail between his paws and brought down on his knee, the guard howling.

Sly leapt up and slammed the butt of his cane into the back of the larger mammal's head, sending him staggering forward into the camel and boar, all of them stumbling before recovering. Recovering too fast, other mammals were cutting in.

The raccoon raced over and hooked his cane through the jackal's legs and around his paw, pulling back, yanking the tranq gun out of his grip and into Sly's owns, firing the dart straight into the camel's chest. The boar made a move, Sly swinging out with his cane to knock him before using the empty gun as a knuckleduster against a sandcat, knocking him out cold. He rolled forward, picked up the feline's gun, fired it against the jackal and then picked up both empty guns and threw them into the stumbling boar's eyes.

He then fled, cutting through the crowd as its mood began to change, mammals starting to turn, run, panic, running with him one moment and against him the next. A flash to his side and he thrust up with his cane against a boar, knocking him back and away as he turned to see a dart gun aiming up right at him. Sly skipped forward, the shot cutting through his tail fur and the raccoon scrabbling on all fours to push on towards his end goal. Up ahead was a whole fake waterfall and cliff, timber decks for partygoers on top and a pool area down below, and a gap inbetween. He slipped through, ignoring the hushed whispers and odd scream as he raced along the inner edge of the pool, turning towards the end and…

Two meerkats slid down in front and behind of him, both pulling out their weapons as Sly dove in, tackling the one ahead and wrestling his gun away, slamming him chin to the ground and holding the tranq forward against the now frozen partner.

Sly cocked his eyebrow as the meerkat took a step back, aim wavering… -The raccoon lowering his gun and darting the squirming mammal below him before throwing him forward straight at the now fleeing security agent. The raccoon turned on the spot, racing on, around the edge of the pool and…

A roar to his left and he saw the massive figure of a brown bear rising up, water cascading down his chest fur as his paw came up and around to swipe him. Sly jumped back, cane coming down to slam against his fist, then again, then the other one as the roaring mammal lunged at him. Cane thrown back and around, he threw it like a spear, straight into the gaping maw until it slammed against the back of the ursine's throat. Sly pulled back on the hook and then threw it again, the massive mammal stumbling back before crashing into the water in a blitz of tsunami waves and screams.

Sly didn't care, the musicians pavilion was just ahead, and he leapt onto the stage, scrambling under the mixer board and out through the coyote's feet, the canine, paw still held up in a rock salute, lifting his mask to give him a confused look. Sly gave him a wink as he turned, leapt onto the keyboard, leapt up onto the startled deer's antlers and jumped across them, cane out to catch on the lighting gantry and swing himself up to the next level.

A few darts whistled past him so he kept moving, giving the odd jerk and bunny hop to throw them off as he moved past the speakers, his whole body shaking from the air movements they were bellowing out. If anything, those alone could throw off the darts, the flashing lights and projections were a bonus.

Jumping onto the top of a speaker column, he saw the flagpole he needed to climb, just the other side of a pavilion… One that black suited mammals were now racing inside. Sly took a breath in and out as he saw the un-tranq'd meerkat racing in after them, the little creature giving a panicked "He's here! He's cussing here!" as the thief leapt, cane smashing through the window as he leapt in, dodging straight to the side as a flurry of darts whipped at where he'd been. He dodged around some terrified partygoers and thrust his cane out at a boar, grabbing his dart gun and turning to launch it between the eyes of a leopard. Kick forward, roll, an addax threw a bench right at him and Sly slid beneath it and him, cane up and hooking onto a bighorn's horn and yanking it forward into the bovine's, the two entwined. Up, out, cane swiping around to startle back a duo of porcupine's before he charged, hooking one and hammer throwing him into a now panicking lion, stabbing him in the shins. A screaming fennec raced at him with a pair of knives, slicing and cutting as Sly pulled his cane all the way back, parrying and deflecting as best as he could with the hooked end as he retreated, retreated, then jolted back to avoid a furious stab to the heart.

He dodged to the side against a decapitating swing, the fennec following only to get a tranq dart plucked from the floor thrown into his chest before his stunned figure was punted away. Sly grabbed a bunch more and raced on, going into a combat roll and throwing them at many of the now recovering mammals as they went in for round two, toppling each of them in turn. In his pre-sleep miasma, the addax charged forward with his horns, Sly leaping up onto them and over in a front flip, landing prone only to dodge to the side as a trio of new boars arrived, currently packing very real, very non-non lethal heat.

Sly ducked behind a column as the shots rang out behind, pinging off and sparking, new screams and shouts ringing out from outside as everything was turned up to eleven. Back against wall, panting hard, the raccoon looked up to his cane, seeing their reflections in the polished surface. Two on one side, one on the…

He ducked down into a fast roll and swung his cane right at the lone mammal's gun, forcing it up and the shots to go wide. Before he could re-aim, Sly socked him on the side of the head with a back swipe before hooking down against the arm, trying to yank the gun away only to find it held firm, the procyonid only able to hold it and his arm away enough to keep the furious flurry of shots from hitting him dead on. One, two, thre -FOUR!

He grit his teeth to suppress a scream as a bullet sliced across part of his arm, more coming as the boar struggled and Sly jerked his way around, getting the grunt between him and his two partners as they came around, ready to fire, already starting to flank to give him nowhere to hide as…

Sly jolted the cane down, the boar wincing as a crack rang out before yanking back, Sly's feet leaving the floor. In a panic, the raccoon grabbed up into his hat and pulled out a mine, priming it and tossing it down as he kicked off, working the cane out and unhooking it as he darted behind a column as more bullets rang out, the boars getting too close as he…

He hit down hard, button on the top primer and the signal going through, a blast and then scream coming out from behind him.

On either side, the two flanking boars fell, dazed and confused as Sly slammed each of them with a cane hit before racing out, grabbing two of the left-over darts and pricking each.

Panting, he looked over at the boar he'd been grappling with, thrown against the wall, his front scorched but still breathing. "Best of luck pal," he panted, shaking as he turned around. He was going to run out of the mines fast and while he still had some tricks up his sleeves there was no reason not to grab a few extra. Just pick up the tranq's and…

He froze, groaning as he saw a massive honey badger walk up, right over him, paws coming down as he tore open his shirt, complete with 'Hi, My name is Stoffel, How may I help?' tag to reveal a rack of muscles. The ratel chuckled, steel jaw-teeth bared as he raised his fists, cocking an eyebrow.

Sly just sighed, leaning on his cane for a second or two. "You're not going to take no for an answer, are you mate?"

The honey badger shook his head before charging forward.

.

.

"Mr Peccari, my associate's best efforts may not be enough to tamper down…" Lady Lang shook her paw in front of her. "The reputational damage of… This."

They looked on as the whole nightclub in front of them emptied out, the whole place giving off a creepy aura, abandoned but with the lights and the dull echo of the electro-base still playing.

"What can I say," the javelina said, smiling. "At this point I'm even admiring this stinkin' ringtails… -How'd you put it…" He turned down to the grey rat. "Hooplash."

"Chutzpah."

"Yeah, yeah," he waved off. "In fact, I think any losses will be more than paid off when I became the crime lord that put an end to the Cooper's."

"Unless," the male vampire bat next to him mused, "there is another heir. I remember when the Five were the greatest of them all, and then…"

The javelina glared at him for a second before shrugging off, looking over at his mammals and the nice surprise they had for when Cooper finally emerged. -If he emerged. He grumbled, he was starting to think like all the rest.

"Don't build yourself up," the bat said.

"What are you saying, Vladzotz?"

"To have been encountered by Cooper, as mammals of our reputation, and to survive… That is high praise enough indeed."

The javelina snorted, turning back as the black boar came up. "Any news?"

He just nodded. "The Teller and his crew are waiting and in position, the dance floor security are seemingly all spent. We've also ensured all the patrons are out and the regular exits closed and barred. -I've also sent a call down below, every razorback is on their way to flush him out if he tries to stay there. And Mr Coywire and Mr Antlerson wish to renegotiate their residency."

The javelina glared away but nodded slowly, looking forward. "If Cooper's still around, he'll be out before then. Out into our little trap."

"And away from any civilians," Vladzotz spoke, the others turning to him.

"What does that mean?" Pecarri snorted.

Vladzotz looked up, but it was the black boar who answered. "There is plenty I have heard of Sly Cooper's doings in the past. Many of which he hasn't resorted to here, likely due to the collateral damage risk to innocents."

"Indeed," Vladztoz replied. "Our family records include details on Coopers past and present. He may be weaker when he meets your soldiers alone, but he will be more than willing to win by any means necessary."

The javelina turned to him. "One, you're gonna tell us everything. And two," he smiled, turning to Vinnie and his crew. "More reason to porcupine him before he even gets to our mammals."

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"GRRRRAAAARRRRGHHHHH!"

Sly screamed, teeth grit and eyes wide as he stumbled backwards, trying to force his arm down, keeping the overwhelming force of the honey badger's back muscles at bay, keeping the crushing jaws from getting too close, hoping he could also keep the claws…

He jolted as he felt himself beginning to slip, a sudden push of force by his opponent driving him closer towards defeat. His arm screamed, the slices and cuts where the mammal's claws had raked him stung, the stench of his opponents blood from the brutal cane swings and swipes mixed with the seeping terror coming from himself.

His heart roaring in his ears, he felt their combined structure slowly shift, wavering, implacable… -He felt some give and gave it his all, pushing up against the Honey badger's leg and splitting it from the other, the mammal slipping down just enough for the next gamble. Let go of the opposing arm, paw up and striking out like a cobra, two clawed fingers stabbing into the beast's eyes like water on a grease fire. He roared and swiped in a feral fury, Sly releasing and jumping back and almost out of the way, three brutal claw cuts swiping across his chest as he retreated, then leapt straight over, landing prone, grabbing his cane and swinging it around to collide with his enemy's jaw.

There was a clang and a spark, followed by another brutal swing down onto his temple, the cane pulled back before the two meaty paws could grab it and haul it in. "Fool me once," Sly warned, as the furious ratel, eyes beginning to open, charged.

Sly leapt straight over him, the mustelid turning on the spot, saw his figure, and leapt again. The raccoon was still, a sitting duck, and jaws out Stoffel grabbed his throat and crushed it like paper… -Because it was, the decoy collapsing as the attacker turned, ready for the next swipe only to feel the prick of a dart hit his chest.

He tore it out, roared, gave one last charge as Sly dodged, letting him stumble, try to re-aim, only to waver, the drugs taking effect. Panting, shaking, cuts across his body, the raccoon held his one arm, grit his teeth and forced it back up and into position with a chilling crunch. All as his opponent stumbled down into a fetal position, Sly giving him an honourable nod before racing on, grabbing the briefcase, jumping up through a glass rooflight on the pavilion and then up to the waiting pole. A quick if much more painful than usual climb and he saw the waiting roof light just ahead. -Better safe than sorry, he put his last remaining hat mines up there, primed and ready before shuffling down, firing them with a hit on the ground.

He winced at the shock, looking up to see the triangular pane loose, its hinges blown off. Grabbing the briefcase, up he went again, just as his ears pricked at the sound of doors swinging open, roars and oinks and bellows coming out. The all or nothing attempt to wipe him out.

A two fingered salute and Sly was up on top of the roof, belly to the glass as he moved the panel back over, leaving the loot by it. Pigs weren't known as good climbers, but he wanted to make sure.

-Just as he wanted to make sure there wasn't a chance that lion or someone with a sniper rifle could get him from the penthouse. He was just about on the other side of the dome, and using breathing techniques and his awareness of the surroundings, he skulked in the shadows.

Slowly climbing up.

Trying to just peer through the glass.

They were still there, trying to do something.

Spotlights?

His escape route was up the staircase to the door to the plant room, then beyond that to a gap in the panels to the cable-car station to be. Not much in the way of exposure, but it was there. It was present. And he'd rather know what he'd be up against than get exposed to it blindly.

Looking below he could see the squads moving in, searching around, expecting a lone and injured raccoon. Keeping his breath steady, he narrowed himself down against the steel supports, the bright lights from down below making him practically invisible.

.

The mammals in the penthouse looked on, waiting, all as a female figure landed back down. "I echo'd him out, he's just about to cross the apex there." She pointed, and the red pig looked through his binoculars, taking a few seconds but locating his figure just about to crest. "Rev 'em up boys," he said, as heavy clanks filled the air, followed by the whirring of heavy electric engines.

.

Sly's ears peeked as he heard the sound, finally poking his head over as a heartier roar filled the air. Like a motorcycle, ready for pursuit. Only it was… "Oh Cuss."

The red pig smiled, turning to his underlings. "-FIRE!" -And the tranquiliser dart miniguns did just that.

Sly shot back down, sliding himself down the glass edge before charging on all fours as a hail of tranquiliser darts screamed out, raining down like hornets. Most chipping the dome as they arced, but more and more coming straight towards him, only one needing to…

-He saw the loose panel he'd blasted through and grabbed it along with the briefcase, heaving it off even as his arm felt it'd be torn out again, holding it up as a shield just as one dart then two chipped off it. And then a pane of glass beneath him exploded, a pig below spotting him and opening fire.

Sly turned and ran, bunny hopping and dodging from the pot shots below as more darts rained down.

Over on the other side the three mingun's roared, used dart cartridges pouring into waiting bins as the belts were torn in to fuel the fire. Bearing's started to glow, the mammals at the control's narrowing their eyes with focus as they listened in to the comments from below, where he was heading, how well their aim was. The further he got away, the more time they had to arc, the better a chance they had.

All as Sly kept running, briefcase held painfully in his jaw, pulling himself under one of the heavy wire sets to give him some form of cover, darts slamming into them and sparking off.

Those below saw them flash, a constant merciless stream racing over.

Sly danced against shots from below, glass shield held up and pinging, -A blast of glass from his feet sent him falling backwards and rolling, darts raining down always a fur's breath away as he reached the end of the glass dome.

Not far away, through a hacked camera screen, Bentley looked on, beaked face open and quivering in horror.

Sly began making his way up the staircase, out of view of those below but in full view of the minigunners as the red pig took over Vinnie's gun, brow furrowed, a grin on his face as he leant in and unleashed the full force of the weapon against the ever more pin-pricked shield the raccoon was holding up as he scrambled towards his exit.

Sly's arm was beginning to ache as much as his jaw, the weight of the shield and the pounding of the darts against it making anything beyond his wrist numb. -Or he'd been pricked and didn't even notice it. No time for that, up the stairs, on the railing, cane into his off paw… -Even before it had been un-plugged, and he began the final climb to the gap and his way out.

"Aim above him!" The red Pig screamed. "Bring the rain!"

Sly huddled against the wall, glass shield held above him to try and give him some cover as the darts rang and pinged against the metal panelling, falling down on top of him needle first, ready to impale and deliver their load. All as others still came in from the side, all as the odd pot shot still rang up, the raccoon doing his best to try and shift himself around, make sure.

A chilling crack rang out as the glass panel jolted forwards ,split into a thousand spiderweb cracks, all as the odd spark pinged off the metal around him.

The red pig's eyes bored down as the raccoon began to stumble, slip, so near yet so far from the gap. One mistake away, just one dart…

With a furious burst of strength Sly threw the panel up and scrabbled up under its cover, chest sliding against the wall and muscles burning as his paws felt the edge of the gap and he pulled himself up and over, darts cutting through the fur of his tail before it too vanished.

There was a crash as the panel fell back down, finally shattering and shedding its load of darts. The mammals inside the dome yelled and bickered. Up on the balcony, the tranquiliser miniguns whined as they were spun down, clunking to a final stop. The bins and boxes used to store their shed cartridges overflowed, the gun's insides glowed hot.

Pushing it away the red pig spat on the floor, snout wrinkled up. "You ain't at the finish line yet, Coopah! You're gonna be desperate now! You're spent!"

"No," came a solemn incantation, the javelina turning down to the bat next to him. "He is not."

"-You on his side or something!?"

"I assure you," Vladzotz replied, looking back. "I am not. But you are right and wrong. He is desperate, but he is not spent. And from what I know of the Cooper's, they have tricks and weapon's committed to their name that could win him the day yet. Ones he has yet to field."

"Huh, and why's that?"

"Because he needed you to clear it first," the vampire bat spoke. "And now there are no civilians or innocent bystanders and he is backed into a corner any qualms over sportsmanship and honour will be gone. Your mammals are about to face a truly dangerous mammal, one who I believe will outclass them. All."

"Well," the javelina said, turning to his underlings. "We'd better help tip the odds, shouldn't we?" He smiled, his grin growing as he tugged up his shirt sleeves. "Been a while since I got my hooves dirty. Joey?"

The thin black boar nodded.

"Tell half of the razors down there, meet with me and the leeches and co. YOU!" he pointed at Lady Lang. "You're outta the game, so don't expect to come with me and try to claim any of the glory."

The white wolf gave an affirmative, silent, unrepentant nod.

All as the other razorbacks began grabbing their light arms and making to the stairs, the lumbering form of the elephant following down. The red pig moved to a drinks cabinet, reaching beneath and pulling a set of hidden levers until a drawer emerged from the frame. He picked out a sleek polished pistol from its velvet cradle, loading it with a snap before moving on. As he did so he turned to the vampire bat flying alongside him. "And you. Tell me everything."

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Sly panted, his body shivering. He didn't have that much time to do a full medical check, but he knew the basics. His clothes were totalled from the cuts and blood stains, his left arm ached and his jaw felt like it had been bent down from carrying the heavy case. Parts all across him ached and his lungs burned. He needed just a few breaths in and out to…

A slight sound perked his ears, a door opening, the hush of hooves and paws starting to shuffle as quietly as they could up hard concrete steps. Pulling himself and the briefcase into the shadows, willing his body rigid as a statue, he watched on from up ahead as a small cohort of four boars arrived, scanning around, sniffing hard and soon nodding. Weapons up, they looked around, exploring the area as they tried to root him out.

Sly could have made a break for it, but then in came the fifth member. A lion, old, grey, his cane held up ready to shoot and kill. This time, the raccoon had to stifle a breath. No way out with him there. His escape from his bullets the first time had been half luck, half from the chaos of the moment. But give him a long range and a second or two to line the shot…

As if he knew he was the bolt on Sly's prison door, he kept the boars around him close. Close enough that if Sly went straight for him he'd be bagged. Maybe he could do it at peak strength, but not like he was now. A hat mine would make it easy, but he was out. Same for his stun powder.

There were other tricks though, and other powders…

He slowly reached into one of his bags, pulling out something carefully wrapped in a thick plastic covering. Even more carefully he unwrapped it, stroking it along the edge of his cane.

"For all your talk of the old country, we all know your species and mine originated from the new world," Vladzotz spoke, flying along as the rest of the forces raced down the corridor, an ever growing pool of reinforcements ready to finish off the thief, once and for all. "The same lands, the same continent. Only for your descendants to sail east, hitching rides on the Genoese ships, rooting yourself in that land to the point that every child would think of your place there as eternal, like the tomato and potato. Your vaunted leaving of the old country? Merely a return home, of sorts. And it is there that you share a commonality with the Cooper's, who were once with the bands of raccoons who trekked west across the Bering land bridge, with the camels and horses. Settling and traveling across the whole of Eurasia. Thieving and plundering as they went. From the low points of street thieves to the high peak of nobility. And when they chose to sail west?"

"-Henrietta Coopah," The red pig said, a smug look on his face. "Feared freelance Captain of the Mediterranean Sea, ambushing the Baaaarbary corsairs, leaving packs of slaves freed on the shores and taking the loot for herself. Always the favour of whichever city state or navy was most pained by them. When hired by the Venetians, she sailed a small fleet through the Bosphorus and spent four months wrecking the slave ships that sailed between Crimea and the heart of the empire, until the sultan himself ordered her hunted down and to be turned into a hat!" He let a grin grow on his muzzle. "A janissary took an eye out, but she made it up the rivers to Poland or somewhere. -Either way, she soon found employment again, packed off and sent under a secret commission by the French, to wreck enemy buccaneers in the Caribbean. Am I wrong, Vlad? Am I wrong!?"

"Indeed you are not," the bat spoke back. "Not," he paused, raising an eyebrow. "That I ever questioned it, did it?"

The porcine's face grew redder and his brow furrowed ever more as the bat continued. "She made a great living there before settling down in New Orleans, the Cooper line continuing on in the new world, even spawning a wild west outlaw centuries down the line. -My family, my species, we never left for the old world. We were there in Tenochmiztlian when Cortez almost toppled the empire, and in the aftermath we learned that whatever victory we had achieved was pyrrhic. Our vassals, our conquered lands, they knew that the priests and might could be challenged. That with the next attack, they and these mammals from across the sea could win. And so before that my ancestors left their life of glory and riches there to head north, to guard the Fangpyre line. We and the Cooper's, two great lines, we crossed, you know?"

"Are we finally getting to the good part, huh!?"

"Indeed," the bat said. "In this new world it was inevitable that the Cooper's would continue through native stock, marrying and living with those of their species who never left their home continent. And from them they learnt new techniques, new tricks of the trade." He took a breath in and out. "My family had great knowledge of the herbs, the plants, the medicine's, ancient records of what they could do and where to find them. Which would heal, which would kill, which would addict and create the most profit of them all. We supplied remote witchdoctor's and medicine men of the tribes, carrying and selling precious material for precious metal. It is how we built ourselves into what we are now. And knowledge is the most precious material of them all. And there was one piece that I read years ago that only in recent hindsight became relevant. That of my clan, centuries ago, trading rare mushrooms and other psychedelics with a raccoon medicine woman, her daughter and newborn grandkit staying with her. The records talk about how the father was of a great line of renown in the old world and new, with fabulous riches, with a great book of knowledge detailing how to take from those who had taken."

"The fabled Coopah book huh, it is real."

"It is indeed. As much as that kit was, named after the state to the east where his mother and father met, soon to become a legend and bane to the railroads and bankers. -There was no more on the Cooper line in my family's records, but some more on that old medicine sow. Scattered around, without order, jumping back and forth through the years. In a different page, almost lost, it talks about how she knew of plants to the northwest, with many properties. Those that could ease a mammal into sleep, those that could fortify their strength, and those that could induce them into a feral rage."

"Sounds like…" the red pig began, only to freeze, turning to the bat.

"They were only called by a lost native name, the purple flowers described however briefly just a passing mention as I studied the family archives centuries down the line. But it took others to rediscover their power. And from what I've studied, from the records concerning the fall of a great crimelord in India many years ago, from all I have gleamed. -The Cooper's never needed to rediscover it."

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Stashing it away, Sly saw the juices glean against the end of his cane before turning down. One boar was marching close to him, sniffing around, the odd glance up but the shadows and poor eyesight keeping himself hidden. Two more were nearby, looking in different directions…

Pulling a detailed origami foldout from his backpack and flicking it out, Sly let it fall from the steel beam, gently tapping onto the concrete as the hunter glanced it for a moment. Before wheeling around and letting out a sudden blast with his pistol, piercing the cut out over and over as if it would make it real. All as the real Sly leapt down, cane first as it cut along the back of his head, eliciting a scream and curse of pain. Already on his feet, Sly raced to the side, climbing up once more as the two other boars wheeled around, pointing and trying to figure out where he was.

One of them pointed, hoof out at a set of paws working their way up, his gun rising up to shoot… -Only for him to scream as his fellow guard plowed into him, tusk goring into his chest. Weapon dropped, he stumbled and fell, looking on in horror as his former comrade turned, eyes turned to slits, froth beginning to foam from his mouth, murder in his eyes as…

The third boar ran in to tackle him only to get slammed back, a struggle kicking up as he dropped his gun and tried to reach for a tranquiliser on his back. Groaning as he got up, the second boar saw the fourth race in, called for him to help, only to watch as the steel briefcase crashed down onto his head, knocking him out cold.

A yell to the side cut him off as he saw his friend pinned against the wall by the newly created savage and started to hobble over to help him, gun up and trying to aim for somewhere non-lethal or…

Slit eyes turned, a squeal rang out, and the wounded mammal braced himself for the oncoming assault.

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Up above, Sly kept to the metal beams, kept to the shadows, ignored the screams and yells cursing his name for daring to use that against them. The raccoon shut it down, his ancestors had discovered that plant and its use well before any megalomaniacal sheep. Four henchmammals now shut down, he just needed to focus on the main target…

The main target who had a much more deadly weapon, much more potent night vision and was keeping away from the fray. Out in the open, eyes glancing around, scanning. Sly could only creep in, keeping focussed, pausing as he got as close as he could get. No more shadows, no more cover. He reached into his backpack and got out a stone, looking over to a large metal electrical cabinet.

Breath in.

Breath out.

He threw it, leaping forward the second the sound of its impact rang out. The Teller was fully distracted for a moment, his eyes turning back and meeting Sly's mid-flight. His cane-gun rose up swiftly as Sly, feeling time slow to an almost crawl, swung his cane down, the two sweeping together as the lion pulled the trigger, a flash kicking out, the cane sparking as it impacted, and the bullet exploding out and nipping Sly's side as he bent away from it.

And then he was on the ground, the lion reloading as he kicked up, the raccoon dodging and rolling to the side, cane coming in for an attack on the achilles tendon only for the big cat to jump back, gun rising again to aim as Sly's cane swept up to meet it, hooking on and locking it away from him. Only for the Teller to yank him and it up, swinging it over his head as Sly reached out to grab the gun muzzle, hoisting himself up as his feet crashed into the floor, momentum carrying the gun along as it was fired, the bullet slicing across the inner side of his leg and ricocheting off the ground below.

But Sly had momentum too, using the force of the impact against the floor to bounce back, racing across the top of the gun even as it was swung up and around, fingers beneath pulling back and forward at the reloading lever. His cane swept around for a roundhouse only for the lion's left paw to let go of the barrel and jump up to take the blow instead. Sly let him, racing on further, cane bending behind him as he jumped out with two feet to sock the lion in the eyes, the feline turning his head to let the side of his muzzle take the impact instead.

-And then he snapped, Sly backpedalling to avoid getting his feet bitten off, then feeling that left paw grab his cane and sweep him around. He had no choice but to hold on, wrapping his ankles around the gun to try and drag it off with him only to fail, getting ripped off so hard he felt his legs were going to be torn out of their sockets.

The lion's gun had been pulled out of position though, his fingers were badly bent and if he could use this time…

He felt himself get thrown back with his cane, stumbling before turning it into a combat roll, landing on his two feet to see the deadly cane rising up once more. Sly tossed his cane straight at the lion's right paw, forcing him to dodge and even then clipping it, a hiss coming out as the raccoon followed on. Leaping forward, teeth bared, he went for the exposed fingers, grabbing onto the barrel as he dug in, a scream coming out. The gun fired as he forced them back before he leapt off, yelling out as he felt three brutal claw cuts slice along the top of his head. Down on the ground, cane back in paw, Sly swept it over his head to meet those fingers again as they jolted and shook to reload. The Teller pulled the cane back and let it take the force, a blast erupting out as Sly felt the bullet explode by his side.

And then the lion leapt forward to kick him, Sly rolling out of the way before turning, seeing the weapon spin in the lion's paws and the crooked end come to meet him. Cane met cane, interlocking, and Sly felt himself get yanked up again, sailing overheard. He disconnected, let himself fall down, before realising this was just what the lion had planned for.

A fist punched into his gut and sent the smaller mammal flying back, away and up against the wall, his head spinning as it clocked the hard surface. Through blurry vision he saw the lion spin his weapon around and, after a brief fumble, reload.

Everything in sharp focus, Sly ran, leaping down into the empty cablecar docking bay and buying himself some time. A few seconds, a few seconds to see one of the injured boars stumbling out, weapon rising, to jump at him and knock him out with a cane to the head and to then use him as cover.

A blast rang out, peppering him with hot concrete shards, a glance over his shoulder showing the lion in hot pursuit. The raccoon picked up the metal briefcase and began running towards the gaping void at the end of the hall, leaping down into the twin pit just before another shot lashed across his back.

Blood was pooling down his face from the lion's swipe, every ache in his body was magnified, he still felt dizzy and his lungs burned for oxygen, spent.

Hugging the wall, he looked up to see the Lion turn around, gun rising up to shoot just as Sly leapt forwards towards the void, cane out and hooking to the side, swinging him around and out of the way as a bullet shot screamed past him.

He landed balancing on a steel beam, jutting out into the void, the hall behind him filled with bangs and screams as a horde of angry mammals, big and small, arrived.

The raccoon slowly stepped back, eyes narrowing as he saw a pair of bats. Binocucom up, he saw Bentley's terrified face as he scanned up to the pair, then glanced down at the ground below.

"-Well, well, well…"

Sly stuck the binocucom away as he turned to face them. The javelina, flanked by the black boar on his left and a mad looking razorback on the right, stared at him, smiling. Silver gun out and pointing, but not ready to shoot. Yet.

"Ya know," he smirked. "Mr Fangpyre here was just trying to lecture me on how your family came back to this continent as pirates. -Something I already knew, thank you very much, but…" He laughed, a few squeals coming out. "It seems fitting you'll end your time here like this. Walking the plank."

"Well, more of a steel beam," Sly smirked.

The javelina harrumphed. "I'm surprised you haven't jumped already. But then again, that's always something I've heard about you, Sly. The arrogance, the cockiness, your long speeches about why the mobster you just robbed sucked. It's giving my mammals all the time they need to arrange myself down there." He pointed, as the raccoon raised an eyebrow. The javelina narrowed his eyes. "Ya don't think I don't know that small mammals like you can survive that fall. A raccoon isn't much different than a cat, and with the right training, especially with a big pool there down below." He smiled. "Paws out, slow yourself down, land on all fours, you can survive that just well. Maybe not with the loot. Especially not with my mammals once they're done with you."

Sly took a shaky breath out. "Well, that's one theory. But then that begs the question, why not shoot me right here, right now?"

The javelina gave a snort. "One, public relations. And two." He leant forwards. "I wanna know… Your kind, they feed on the worst of the worst, you make it your personal mission. To me though, to my associates, it's a badge of honour. Not just to be the one to bag the long absent Sly Cooper, even making him bleed like that would make me a legend of the Cosa Nostra. No, simply to be targeted. So, I've got to know, and trust me the painlessness of your next moments depends on this… What did I do to earn your presence here, tonight?"

Sly looked at him for a second or two. "I was in kinda a funk," he said, shrugging. "Thought I'd solo rob a casino for funsies."

The javelina looked on like before, his eager expression held for a few seconds before starting to curdle.

"Wasn't really that planned," the raccoon followed on. "Just…" he rolled his paw. "Doing something I enjoy."

The javelina's face began to fold into a scowl. "And do you know who I am?"

"Boss of the Sahara Square mob. Yeah. I knew the basics."

The room was quiet for a second or two before the red pig began to laugh, squeals and cackles coming out as his grin grew. "You know what? Sure. Doesn't even matter. It's a good story. So I guess I can thank you for that, and for making me the legend I'm gonna be." In a split second he pointed his gun and fired, Sly leaping off the metal beam and out into the void as it slashed through his side, the raccoon screaming.

And then he was gone, the red pig racing up to the edge, fists raised high. "I shot Coopah! I shot the Coopah!" He laughed on and on as the blue and grey figure fell, getting smaller and smaller… -Until a blossom of blue erupted, suddenly folding out into a stylised raccoon head as the parasail grew to full volume, pulling the mammal out of his dive and sending him wheeling around the edge of the hotel.

The red pig blinked before screaming, pulling out his gun and firing, the lion coming up and taking the odd long shot too. No one even asked the bats to dive in after him, though they'd only realise they had no chance at catching up later. Everyone who could was at the edge, firing down, trying and failing to hit the ever vanishing Sly Cooper.

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Binocucom down, Sly groaned as he pulled the cords on his parasail, pausing as he heard the off pop or rip of a bullet going past, maybe nipping the edge of his chute. Even then, the wind resistance had slowed them down. They'd hurt, yes, but not be lethal. The same could be said for the wound he'd just got, hopefully. Side of his chest, in and out, but away from anything major.

Though the ever growing crowds of guards down below, gathering on the casino grounds and following him towards the edge, might have something to say about that. He pulled up again, sweeping forward, eyes kept on a building in front of him coming up fast. A few shots rang out from down below, coming dangerously close, but then he was over the lip, feet slamming into the ceiling and then almost falling over themselves as they raced to keep him up before he jumped again over the next void.

A pull on a strap and the cords began retracting, pulling the parasail back into its store, but not before he made one last jump, using what was left to slow him enough to make a hard but safe landing on the road below.

With a slam the doors on the back of the van in front of him opened up, a scaled hand reaching out to pull him in. Bentley held him close and tight before telling him to get down, the autopilot would take them home, he'd patch his friend up. He then slapped him. "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING SLY!?"

"I… Wanted to do something fun, and…"

"BY RAIDING A MOB CASINO! DURING A MOB CONFERENCE! WITH NO BACKUP! WITHOUT EVEN TELLING ME!"

"Okay, I didn't know about the sec…"

"I don't CARE about the second one," Bentley yelled. "Or one, and a chunk of three. But what about four! You didn't even tell me?"

"I… -It was spur of the moment, I…"

Bentley slapped him, again. "Sly," he said. "What happened."

"I… I bit off a bit more than I could chew, I admit, not one of my bes…"

"Not now," he seethed, scowling through his glasses. "In egypt."

The raccoon looked back, blankly, eyes lingering on the turtle's eyes before dropping down to rest on his wheelchair.

"We know something happened there involving Clockwerk. We know it's screwed you up. We can't help you unless you tell us what happened!"

Seconds passed.

"It's something you're ashamed of."

"No," Sly said. "I…"

"Something you think will make us hate you," Bentely continued. "Maybe not even involving Clockwerk on that regard, or maybe so, I don't know. Because you won't tell."

"No," the raccoon said, finally. "I won't."

"-Then get help."

Sly blinked. "Get help?"

"-Y-yes! Get help, from someone, book yourself into a therapist's or something, someone who won't judge you and…"

"Just throw me out for wasting their time or try to section me and…"

"Like you'd let them, I…" Bentley growled. "Sly, get help. Or else."

Groaning a bit, Sly crossed his arms. "Or what."

"I actually WILL tell Carmelita."

…

"-Fine!" he said, looking away before turning back. "But I do it my way, you understand?"

Bentley looked up, irritated at first but then allowing his features to soften. "As long as I can be there to provide intel and backup, that's fine by me."

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AN: I had fun writing this chapter. Rocco 'The Red Pig' Peccari, the Sahara Square mob and Vern Rodenberg all belong to Merc_Marten and are from his Fire Triangle series. Vladzotz Fangpyre and the nocturnal mob were created by Upplet, and currently belong (along with Lucy Sang and the Lady Lang) to Berserker88 and MindJack. The two DJ's, Coywire and Garry Antlerson, belong to PvtScott and feature in his 'The WildeHopps Chronicles' comic series. The art of Stoffel was a fun doodle by Ziegelzeig.

Chapter Text

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"Oooh, we've got a reindeer here!"

Retsuko paused, looking up with Basil and Dave, Haida looking back and shrugging.

"What, it makes a bit of variety. Better than just bear, bear, bear, bear…"

"Well, are there any potential leads from this mammal?" Basil asked.

"I…" The hyena looked through the insurance report. "Ran a small wilderness chalet service, very high prices for nightime retreats, half of his buildings burnt down on the night in question." He paused. "It's not like you could secretly sell them off though to double dip."

"Well maybe they're one of Wilde's innocent bystanders then," Retsuko suggested.

Haida shook his head. "No, I… -It's just so far out there, I don't see why the bears would make such a diversion to loot the place and burn it amongst everything else."

"Spite," Basil shrugged, walking over. "Don't underestimate a petty mammal's penchant for seeking to settle scores during such times. Even above gaining wealth for themselves." He looked over, scratching his head. "Was this by any of the ski slopes for instance? I know that Big had his paws in half of the lift operators in Tundratown."

"-Wait, really?" the hyena asked. "How did that work?"

"He strongarmed the mammals in charge into giving his subordinates the right to run the catering. -Surely you've seen how much of a rip off the on-piste restaurants usually are."

"N-no, I don't ski."

"Ah," the mouse shrugged. "Well neither do I, but I have it on good authority that they are. -And that if you happen to own a hut next to one of the ski paths you can open your own place and make a profit at half the price. Of course, certain legitimate business mammals may disagree, and conduct legal and extra-legal methods to remove such competition, and…"

"-Yeah, they're miles away from any of the slopes," Haida said. "-And looking on at their old website they offered 'the best drinks in all of Tundratown'. I..." His jaw hit the floor. "That's more than I earn in a year! And I can't even pronounce it."

Dave strolled over. "One-hundred year old Madeira, One hundred and twenty year old fortified Tasmanian gum cider."

"You can't pronounce it either."

"Never claimed that I did. -All manner of liquors… -In suspiciously not that old looking bottles. Likely insured for that price, after valuing by a Big friendly drinks valuer."

"Well, not like anyone's going to be proving that now," Haida said, grumbling. "Can't see any way to follow this either."

There was a quiet as the mammals got back to work. After the excitement of proving their theories over Melissa Krovstoit correct, they'd been slapped with the rather disappointing reality that she was not going to talk, and neither was anyone else.

"If our plan was to follow the money," Retsuko grumbled, "we shouldn't have arrested the mammal we planned to follow."

"Well," Dave said, "we'll know for next time."

"If there is a next time," Oates said, walking in. He threw down a few pictures. "No real traces on the trucks they used for the gold robbery. Two were reported stolen a few days before…"

"By bears?" Haida asked.

"One polar bear, one musk ox," the horse replied. "Both associates of the former Big empire, both in trouble after its collapse. Again, no proof this was an inside job or not. The things weren't the best in the world, they weren't wreckers either. Went in, did the job, went out, burned down in that warehouse that Rattigan torched." He scratched his chin, peering in closer.

"It doesn't matter if we're not making progress at the moment," Basil said, voice bursting out. "We're just finding out where to search. Learning more about this great ecosystem that Rattigan chose to head, to exploit. Who does what, what and where they might be involved, and how they profited." He chuckled a little. "Remember, without Big's money laundering need or erstwhile patronage, these were all businesses that couldn't survive by themselves. Their owners sought a one and done cash-out with Rattigan, but then what? Many still won't have an income, many will still be sinking. The longer we wait the more desperate they get, and one chink in the armour, one exposed bit of flesh somewhere along the scales, and we can get them."

"Don't…" the red panda began, just a bit nervously. "Don't mobsters kill liabilities like that?"

"I, well of course there's also the inherent comradery that these fellows had for each other, we saw it every time we brought in a new batch, did we not? Staying silent, refusing to betray each other, -and I suppose this is digging my own grave with waiting for them to talk, isn't it?" He shook his head. "That and the fact that Rattigan has no such loyalty to them, and would be more than willing to off one. Hrrrrr…"

"-Why don't we try that?" Dave asked, Basil turning to him, head tilted. "We make it seem like Rattigan offed one of their own who was going to talk…"

"-Justified payment for snitching," Basil waved off.

"Or was just a liability?"

Basil paused for a second, finger coming up to rub his chin. "You know… -The trouble there is that we ideally need to find someone who we know is a liability, they know is a liability, and do it convincingly enough. It worked once with Petey, after all. I suppose given her rather miserable attitude, we won't feel too bad subjecting Melissa to it. Again."

"And how will all the male members of the mob find out what happened to our lone female prisoner?" Haida asked.

"We… We can find a way," Basil began.

"-Here's what I don't understand," cut in a new voice, everyone turning to Oates. The horse was walking over to a large board that Haida and Retsuko had been working on for days now. Lists of whose, what's, where's. Potential subjects, ranked on various metrics. How much they'd lost, how connected they'd been to Big in the past, and how much of a connection they had to the events of that night itself. Melissa was the highest on the list, given her husband being on the raid and the later connections. The various families of the other bears killed during the battle of the Fox Family House were there as well, along with a mix of others.

A wholesaler who'd been linked to some of the protective equipment the bears on the roofs overlooking Watering Hole Plaza had used, an electronics store where components in the hacking system used to take over the ZNN emergency broadcast system were purchased, an auto dealership where the small-mammal vehicle control units for the excavators had been supplied.

"These mammals weren't connected with Big or anything," Oates began, "but this mammal here…" He tapped at a picture of the wholesalers. "He was burned out, I presume to help cover up their tracks."

"Each of the others was a one-time purchase, that one would have a whole list," Dave began.

"-Yes, and we know that it might have been a request by that damn Pig, given his involvement in all this. Lord knows it wasn't the only 'request' done for him that night."

"Well I mean, it makes sense," Basil said. "Even for some of these guys…" He gestured over to some other businesses, a security and weapons supplier who'd certainly helped to arm plenty of the bears that day and had connections with Big. He'd been interviewed, multiple times, but again, nothing concrete, no clinchers. Just threats that were shrugged off. "Clear the evidence, wipe it clean, Rattigan thought it'd be a one and done and…"

"There were, certain things, Rattigan planned to do even after, correct?" the horse asked, casting a quick glance at the oblivious hyena and red panda.

""Well, I could still see him requiring certain suppliers and resources after," Basil replied out loud. "Getting his goods out of Zootopia for a start, that stealth drone he has wouldn't have been able to carry the gold, right?"

"-Wait, Rattigan has a stealth drone?" Haida asked. "That's cool."

"A military contact filled us in on a sighting, we believe it's connected."

"Can I see it?"

"We don't have any pics."

"Awwwwww…"

"I…" Retsuko began, moving in before glancing back. "So what you're saying is, there's some important suppliers and stuff that he wouldn't have burnt out. That he still needs. And if we find them… -They'll still be in contact. We can spy on them and get a lead!"

"Exactly," Basil said, turning back to the board. "But it's that finding part that's tricky. Though I'm pretty certain that Oates has a lead, correct."

"Not exactly," he said, looking on. "More a feeling."

"A feeling about what?" the red panda asked.

"That something's missing here, I…" He paused, glancing over. "Are you sure this is still at the level we can include civilian consultants and stuff in here or…"

"Oh, let them be," Dave waved off.

The horse nodded, glancing at the two. "Nothing personal."

"Understood," Retsuko said, as Haida walked up, squaring the board with his fingers.

"Okay, gold smuggling and stuff, how would you do that. Plane? Train? Boat? Automobile, I… Did Big own or work with any metal casters or anything?"

"Not that I know of," Oates said, shaking his head. "Not that that was it, nor that it's not worth looking into."

"Wouldn't it just be easy to cut up the gold and hide it in car seats or something," Retsuko asked.

"Certainly for the straight cash and jewels, if he was taking off with that, I…" Basil began, as he was cut off by Haida, the hyena shaking his head and pointing straight at the board.

"Building companies!"

They all turned to look at him.

"Or construction rental companies or something," he carried on. There was a pause before his eyes narrowed. "I was attacked with three giant diggers, he'd have to have got them from somewhere, right?"

Basil shrugged. "Most likely stolen, he could have picked them up from anywhere and…"

"-And moved them to the Fox family House?" Oates asked, marching forward. "In the middle of a riot? That's what's missing from here."

"A trucking company?" Dave asked.

"Or, most likely stolen," Haida pointed out. "He would have picked them up from anywhere."

He was met with a nasal snort from Oates. Basil shook his head. "You know, on its own, fair enough. Same for the diggers. But together? In the heat of the moment? AND attaching small mammal controls, which only some designs are equipped for. Once is chance, two a coincidence, but three…" He turned to Haida and Retsuko, nodding. "Search for any vehicle operators attached to Big, or who might be connected to this. It might be someone on the other side of town that Rattigan got connected to, so it might be an absence of news that's the tell, not a flurry. Any vehicle wareshop, hiring company, anything. Heck, double check out Lang's Cars for all I care. Dave, Oates, let's give these diggers a closer look."

.

.

.

"Is that the river?"

Judy strained to hear the soft rushing above the crashing down of the rain. They'd spent the day at Jack's Abeula's, preparing the supplies and goods they needed while Bentley did his research. -Amidst other reports, 'busy stuff' going on back in Zootopia concerning a certain ringtailed mammal. Either way, as the early night fell, the predicted monsoon storms rolling in, they'd started on their way up, asphalt roads at first as they made their way up to the last main town up the valley.

-From what had been said by Jack's Abeula, 'nameless caves, above the closest to this ocean the river barred from it reached,' the turtle had narrowed his search down to the upper reaches of the Coatizacoalcos river, rising in the nearby mountains but flowing down north into the Atlantic. Historical records showed some Guano battles up there, the odd map an old narrow gauge line weaving its way up. To get to its base, they'd driven up asphalt roads at first to the last town and now, headlights off and guided by the nightvision of the various nocturnals in their troupe, they crawled up the dirt paths.

Judy couldn't see anything, but she thought she heard something.

"I can make out the fall into it," Skye said, peering out.

"I can hear it," Jack agreed, voice hushed as they drove on.

Judy was silent too, slowly working her incisors over each other. Even as slow as they went, she could feel the rough ride beneath them, and the growing pit in her stomach at the reality of all of this.

Once more into battle, once more into danger.

She'd seen some of the pictures that Bentley had sent over. What the cartel group that was now confirmed to be moving south was known for. If coming in full force, they might be there in a few days or so, around the time that Caremlita's reinforcements came.

If they'd sent an advanced guard…

Lt Vixen shifted over, claw out and scrolling through the map she'd printed off. There were two caves of interest, one that was closer but higher up and one that was further away but lower down. From what Bentley suspected, Rattigan and his groups, making their way through the jungle, would come to the upper one first. They meanwhile, reaching the base of the valley and hiking up the path of the old tramway, would reach the lower one. Records on how the battles went, which ones were hit first, what was in either of them were very poor.

"The mammals who raided first would have hit the upper one," Lt Vixen said. Tracing a claw line up, she traced out a short line, cresting up over a ridge and falling down. "Though given the geography, they chose to exploit the lower." Tapping her fingers on the surface, she shook her head. "Doesn't help with anything."

"So we might spend all this time looking in the wrong place. That's great to hear," Doug muttered.

"Yeah," Murray agreed. "But so might Rattigan."

"And unlike him, we might know sooner rather than later," Lt Vixen smiled, bringing out a small box, a long set of wires attached. "He won't know the signal they release, we do. We carry on to the base of the tramway, hide the van, march up and establish base camp. We see if we can pick up any signal, the frequency is enough to bounce some way up the caves. We then send a small scout party up with the second set to try and confirm the second cave. We relocate if need be."

"Of course," Carmelita sighed, "that's not 'super accurate' is it."

"Will it be able to point out exactly where it is, no," Lt Vixen admitted. "But I'm certain you'd much prefer the advantage it gives us over Rattigan, do you not?"

"Never said otherwise," the Interpol vixen said.

"Regardless," Judy said, slowly working her way up between the two. "We don't have to find this thing, do we? If we just set up an ambush, we can end Rattigan once and for all."

"I can do it in one shot," Dave said.

The van was oddly quiet for a moment or two.

"Of course," the doe bunny eventually filled in. "I might… I might recognise this thing too. From my vision, I…" She rubbed her head. "It'd be hard with the low light, I don't remember much, but…"

"Better than nothing," Nick said, as Lt Vixen held her paw up.

Murray spotted it and slowly brought the van to a halt, jerking back the pawbreak as the army fox slipped out, waterproof hood poured over her head as she stepped out into the pouring rain. She knelt down, nose to the ground, sniffing before looking back in. "The rain covers it, but I know that smell any day. We're close…"

The mammals pulled their hoods up and stepped out, those with night vision taking the sight in. In many ways, it looked exactly like the rest of the jungle around them, only…

"There used to be a clearing here," Tigress said, as Lt Vixen warned them to watch their step. They fanned out, carefully stepping through the undergrowth, a crackle on their radio soon coming through.

"Wall here." They moved over to where Skye had found it, probing the undergrowth as they found a raised row of stone and brick blocks, the group tracing it along until it reached a corner. Not far away, another corner, another end of a different building.

The group retreated back to their vehicle, Lt Vixen pulling out an old black and white photograph, one of the few they had. They didn't even know for sure if this was the place. But, pointing out two large sheds piled high with the guano, the red fox nodded. She then traced further around, zooming in on a satellite map, making out some of the other features. In particular, ever so faint, a line crawling its way up the mountain, specks of valleys and embankments on its way up.

Looking back to the picture, tracing out its mark, the vixen nodded, the group soon getting everything ready. Finding a hidden place to park their vehicle first of all, clearing some pieces of vegetation so they could pull it in behind cover, throwing over a camouflaged tarpaulin and doing their best to conceal it.

Then the rest of their equipment. Canned provisions, bags of spelunking equipment, thick heavy mountaineering boots, ladders, weapons. Tigress and Murray took point, they'd be taking it in turns to carry up the lion's share of the equipment and taking point as they cleared a path up the old rail trail.

It didn't take long to find it, the odd remnant of rotted away sleepers, dissolving to mush on the touch. After that, crawling up, the path beyond, its odd flatness and lack of any giant trees the only sign that this had once been a clear route up.

With heavy protective clothing and a machete honed to razor sharpness, Murray began the march forward, bulldozing down a route through where possible, taking out a shoot of tree or bamboo where necessary.

The following mammals were glad for their waterproof and cut resistant bodysuits as they followed on, pushing through the many plants that sprung back in or up into their path, saddling over large exposed boulders or fallen tree limbs.

Slowly, they rose.

The rain kept coming.

They saw their path slowly turn, weaving through a narrow cutting in an escarpment, excavated by mammal paws over a century ago. Abandoned and reclaimed by nature.

Step by step, hour by hour.

The rain eventually subsided, the clouds retreating somewhat, the stars emerging.

Taking a break for water, Nick sat down, glancing up at it. Bejewelled, hundreds of colours. "Is it like this in Bunnyburrow?" he asked in a whisper.

"Wha…" Judy said back, letting a long breath out as she rested herself. Her gaze slowly followed his, looking up. "No," she finally said, "it is pretty."

"Yeah," he said, pausing as a crash came out. Murray, his arms tired, swapped with Tigress at the front, the pair exchanging equipment and heavy goods.

"Oh yeah, you should have seen the sky in the Australian Outback. I was there with my spiritual guide… -It was this intense experience, looking up at nature as it was, I mean…" He smiled, looking up. "Just wow."

"I suppose it's always more amazing for you night vision mammals," Judy said, blinking away as a few streams of water dripped down near her.

"Yeah, well I bet what you can hear here is cooler too, way cooler than what we can," he offered.

She smiled. "Lots of insects chirping." She breathed out. "LOTS of them."

They were quiet for a little while, letting the silence fill in. The rain had stopped, but an ever downpour of dripping leaves carried on alongside with the chirping songs of insects.

"It's different," Nick finally said. "-To the rainforest district. Really is."

"I got so used to the real thing, the Rainforest District always came off as a little creepy," Lt Vixen smirked. "Either way, we've still got a march to go on, and are less than a quarter of the way through. Ready mammals?"

They nodded, the climb resuming once more. Hacking, cutting, slashing, weaving through, heavy breaths as heavy loads were carried. Areas where bridges had once crossed gulleys, if they were lucky a stone structure surviving, the small mammals taking point to fix a safety line before the heavier ones crossed. In more than one location only the stump of an old timber trestle was left, lines of decapitated soldiers vanishing down into the ferns as they dropped to a roaring side stream before climbing up once more. A few times Murray and Tigress, with some help from Doug, got a tree or two down, letting them cross with the help of safety lines for scaling the slopes.

There was one area they'd known about and feared, the bridge fully gone and just a wide chasm ahead, a river plummeting down, ready to sweep any unfortunate mammal away. They'd brought up an extendable ladder and, after scouting out for the narrowest point nearby, made the crossing from the bank to a large boulder.

Securing one end with lines and with Murray and Tigress holding it, Lt Vixen and Carmelita carefully made their way across, doing their best to lash the other end secure. All as the others, tired, exhausted, wet from a few surprise showers, took a chance to rest, panting hard. The heat worked into their bodies, the overalls that kept the mud off them making their fur feel waterlogged inside. Peeling them off, itching and scratching, panting in and out. Jack and Skye attended to each other's paws, both feeling blisters coming on.

All as some smaller trees were felled from the other bank to the boulder, Tigress making her way across to add some larger ones. Lashing it all together, doing their best to secure it all.

Finally, ready again, they each took their turn crossing the shaky crossing. All before the trek continued on.

A faint orange glow cast up from upriver as they dragged themselves up and up, no more major crossings but instead just the burn and the ache of their muscles from their arduous trek.

"I smell it," Lt Vixen said, as blue began staining the sky once more.

All as they carried up, the jungle slowly lit again, the last weaves and turns until, finally, it just ended.

A large flat area and, just a little above them, a gaping maw in the rocks.

The mammals collapsed, tired.

"Five minutes," Carmelita said, "then we see if there's easy cover in there. Somewhere to hide ourselves away. Then, taking shifts, we power nap and recover, before the next step. ¿Sí?"

Murmurs of agreement came out. If it was any consolation, they'd had it 'easy'. They took comfort in the hope at what their enemy had been through.

Breathing in and out, the larger mammals started unloading their gear, Murray taking the time to pull out a satellite phone. He sat back, dialling in and giving an update. "Hey, yeah… -We made it to the lower cave site. Nobody here so far, so all's good… -Right, how's Sly… -That tired groan does not fill me with confidence."

He listened on for a little bit, his brow furrowing. "Oh…"

.

"Well, at least he's getting help, or… -What do you mean 'breaking in'?"

.

.

.

.

"Is it all set?" Sly asked, looking down to Bentley.

The turtle looked back. "Indeed it is, though once again do you have to make it this…"

Sly cocked an eyebrow, a finger raised. "One, if I was going to do this, it was going to be in my way. Understood."

"Right," Bentley huffed, turning down and typing on his keyboard. "-And two?"

"-At the end of what I'm going to say, a regular shrink would have shipped me off to this place anyway." With that he smiled, turning towards the back of the van.

"-Wait." He glanced back, Bentley wheeling himself around. "Sly… -I hope you find peace or closure of some kind, I hope you get the help you need. I hope this helps you be okay."

The raccoon glanced away, giving a short shrug. "We'll see. Thanks." And with that, he opened the back door and slipped out, quickly making a run towards a nearby brick wall, his momentum carrying him on as he stepped and ran up it, cane out to hook the bottom rung of the nearest fire escape.

Pulling himself up the rest of the way, he slid onto the first level and began making his way up and up, soon reaching the top of the building and, jumping over to a drainpipe, scrabbled up and over onto the roof. From there it was easy, along the parapets, the odd flying leap across a small alleyway. Moving on, he paused, shifting down the outside of a chimney and working his way across a narrow window ledge before leaping into the void, paws touching down onto a telephone wire strung across a wide street. He slid down it, tail whipping in the breeze as he tugged down the catenary to its lowest point before leaping up the last small incline. Cane hooking onto a hanging sign, he swung to build up momentum before jumping out, hooking his cane against the crook of a pair of roof parapets, coming down either side and meeting in a rainwater gulley. Up and over once more, and it was racing across the roofs, up and down, up and down, feet racing across the tiles until he reached the final peak.

There, across from him, the building stood. Multiple stories tall, surrounded by green trees lit up by the glowing spotlights, the tall border fence hemming it in.

Making sure mammals couldn't get out.

-Thankfully with little or no thought about those wanting to get in. Checking his clothing, slipping off his tight performance leggings and pulling on some loose tracksuits, swapping his blue shirt for a looser and more casual blue shirt, eye mask and hat off and placed in his bag. 'Casualised' Sly raced down, picking up enough momentum to make it over and onto the tall fence, balancing perfectly on its overhang, hidden behind the bright glow of the spotlights.

A quick scan showed a few mammals in the yard, but not many more. Indeed, a whole corner with a small little nature garden seemed entirely untouched and unnoticed. Moreover, perfect for what he needed. Running along the fence, he leapt and fell, balancing on the top of one of the spotlights before working his way back and sliding down to its base. A quick peek out, a scan through his Binnocucom and a relay of information back to Bentley -Confirming where he'd be- and then he packed his things in his bag.

Moving over to the timber decking, working his cane in and quickly levering out a loose board, he stashed his bag and weapon underneath before putting on the remainder of his disguise.

And with that, out he walked, newly bare paws on the warm asphalt as he strolled up to the mammals at play. All his size, (mostly) all nocturnal. A very short eared rodent of some kind, black-ish grey with light grey spots and a huge amount of white flecking turned to him. "I don't think I've seen you here before?"

"New here," Sly said, huffing. He scratched his head, just underneath the hem of the white boxer shorts he was wearing as a hat. "And not long to be here when they realise there's nothing wrong with me."

Bouncing his basketball, an armadillo turned to him. "What's your name?"

"Wobble."

The two were taken aback slightly, the rodent chuckling a little. "I see," he said, walking forward and pinching Sly on the cheek, shaking it about a little. "This is the mammal at work, eh? Trying to play tricks on us, keep us in the machine?"

"There's no machine, no tricks," Sly shrugged off. "-Just wobble."

"Where you come from?" the armadillo asked.

"Uh, I actually spent a lot of my life in Paris. There's a small suburb, La Wobb-al, I'd highly recommend it. I then emigrated to Wobble and…"

The rodent was snickering, shaking his head as he turned back to shooting hoops. "You can't get me like that, you can't get me like that."

"He's like that with everyone," the armadillo said, shaking his head. "You want to be Wobble? I respect that."

"I mean I am Wobble," Sly said, pausing as he saw a female coyote guard walk out, checking a clipboard. Looking up, her brow furrowing a little in confusion. "I just don't know why people have to be so insistent that I'm not. You know, it doesn't affect them, doesn't change their life, doesn't cause them any grief that I am Wobble."

"-Mr Ringtail?" the coyote asked, looking over.

"Anyway, might be fun shooting a few hoops here, there…"

"Mr Stephen Ringtail?"

"-Discussing methods of liberating ourselves from the oppressive perpetual nightmare that we are trapped in that…"

There was a sigh. "Wobble?"

"Yes?" he asked, looking over to the coyote. She looked back, keeping her expression blank.

"-I… Do you have any pronouns you wish to be referred by?"

Sly smiled, here was one cultural-dialectic change developed in his absence that he'd been waiting to exploit since learning about it. "My pronouns are Wibble/Wibbly. For there is only I, Wobble. Except when there is not, and I identify as multiple Wobbles at once. For instance after large amounts of drinking, major tectonic events and unexpected mitosis. The plural in such cases results in a suffix change of my name from 'ble' to 'bly'"

"Okay… Wibbly…" She paused, holding her lips together, suppressing their quivering for a second. Sly had to suppress his snicker in response. "-Wobbly, I've been requested to take you in for an appointment. Is that okay?"

"What kind of an appointment?" he asked, crossing his arms before listing them off. "Doctors, Wobble, Dentist, Occupational Wobblist…"

"Your newly assigned psychiatrist," she said, taking a breath in and looking over her notes again, jaws held firmly tight.

Sly cocked an eyebrow. "I'm not sure what you're finding amusing. As a free and Wobble citizen, I deserve wobble treatment as a fundamental wobble."

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath in. "Sir, I assure you I fully respect you as an individual..."

"-You mean Wobble."

"-Can you please come with me to your assessment."

"Wobbly," he agreed, following her along.

Stepping inside the mental ward, there were a few other nocturnal mammals in the lounge area, sitting around, relaxed, talking or watching the television. A few eyes though did turn to look at him. It was also undeniable that there was a particular current, a tension, in the air. For a moment or two he didn't even care about trying to make the mammal in front of him crack up, things were getting serious and he needed to keep his wits about him and his wobble up.

Okay, maybe he could let it down a bit, he…

SLAM.

He jumped back as one of the doors next to him shook, looking down at the shaded glass shutters as a hedgehog poked his head into view, eyes squaring on him. "Dinsdale?"

"Don't mind Norman," the coyote said, waving him on. Sly followed.

"Guess his Wobble is worse than his wobble."

"You can say that about a few of the mammals here, though I wouldn't take it as a certainty. But these are all good, reasonable mammals who need and are receiving help. That's all we're here to provide. For them, and for you."

"Who says I need wobble?"

"Well, I wouldn't know personally, but…"

"I knew it, this is just a wobble and I'm the victim."

She paused, looking down at him before furrowing her brow, glancing up, Sly noticing that she was looking at the security cameras… -And where non-security cameras that were not meant to be spotted might have been located.

"Anyway, M… -Wibble Wobble…" She sucked in a breath of air. "If you will be staying with us, we can provide plenty of help. There's the official professional therapy, along with activities such as art…"

"-Art?"

She smiled. "Yes, creative exp…"

Sly looked over to where she was glancing, suppressing a grin as he took off, the coyote freezing before closing her eyes as he returned, a pair of paintbrushes up both nostrils.

"If you could come along…" She began, waving him towards a door and knocking on it. "Mrs Lupulleli? That last minute patient is here?"

"-Okay," came a female voice from the other side, Sly leaning back against the wall and relaxing. Watching. Noticing a naked red fox trying to sneak up to him.

"You're wobble doing it right," he said, seeing the vulpine pause his overacted sneaking before carrying on. The coyote guard just turned and narrowed her eyes at the approaching figure.

"Sir, what have we said before about public nudity?"

Sly nodded. "I can see your wobble."

The coyote glanced at him, Sly shrugging back.

"What, he's got a very well endowed wobble."

The female canine's face winced up, just in time for the sneaking fox to make a lunge at Sly's underpants and paintbrushes. -Something the raccoon easily dodged, jumping back. At first, the fox acted as if it had been a complete success.

"Ha! You'll never get…" He began chucking the phantom items up towards a light alcove only to notice he hadn't actually got them, his whole body beginning to tremble as he looked back at his paw, over at Sly, back at his paw, paws now gripping and yanking at his ears as he fell to his knees. "You… You didn't do it right! YOU DIDN'T DO IT RIGHT! YOU…! YOU!"

His teeth baring, Sly began to step back as the coyote rushed in front of him. "Crap, they didn't tell you the right way. Hey, let's try again. Round two! Round two! ROUND TWO!"

Finally he snapped out of it, the coyote smiling and gesturing along, while also glancing at Sly. "Follow what I say."

The confused raccoon nodded. "Wobble?"

All as the fox began sneaking forward again, the guard speaking out against him. "Swiper no swiping."

After a second, Sly repeated it. "Swiper no Swiping."

The fox froze, before tip-toeing forward again.

"And again."

"Swiper no swiping."

He froze before carrying on.

"Swiper no swiping?" Sly asked, the fox making a lunge at his head-bound boxers only to freeze. Then step back, relaxing somewhat even as he scowled and clicked his fingers.

"Oh MAN!"

And with that, he scurried off.

"So you're wobbling I have to say that three times whenever Swiper tries to swipe stuff?"

"Well it's that or you just let him swipe the stuff and get it back later," she began, pausing as the door to the office opened, a female binutong looking out.

"Hello?" She paused, glancing up at the now shrugging coyote and then down, eyes half lidding at Sly, paw up and waving.

"Wobble."

"I see," she said, looking up at the coyote. "I'll take him from here."

"I'll get more clothes on you know who," the coyote said, handing the raccoon over.

The raccoon saw her walk briskly off, not towards where the fox had gone but rather towards what he assumed was the staff break area, behind a locked door.

"-Wobble for everything!"

His brow furrowed, she was good.

"Ahem, Sir?"

"That's Wibble," he corrected, looking up at the popcorn scented mammal.

"I thought it was Wobble?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sly shrugged, walking in. "It is. Wibble Wobble, except when it's Wibbly Wobbly. Anyway, oooh! A proper Wobble chair." He jumped and cartwheeled over, sliding to a halt on the psychiatrist's couch. "I only thought they had these in the wobblies."

Dr Amy sat down, clipboard in paw. "I don't think I've seen you here before."

Sly shrugged. "Wobble transfer. Very Wobble transfer. Not that I'm happy about it, or want to be here, but people wobbled so I guess here I Wobble."

"Well, that would line up with everything," she said, studying her notes.

"Nothing sounds too untowobble, does it?"

She gave him a look, looking back down. "No," she said, transferring her notes to her tail before leaning forward, fingers steepling. "So… -Wibbly Wobbly, shall we Wobble?"

"Oooh, that's a bit forward, don't you think?"

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Felicity's claws tapped away at her keyboard, the cat not liking the wait. Seconds passed, then seconds more before the reply came.

"So far, no signs."

She typed back in. "Of the item, or of interference."

This time, the response was far quicker. "What kind of interference do you presume could come our way?"

"You tell me."

A few seconds later, he replied back. "Unfortunate bystanders, ignorant chancers, arrogant do-gooders. Any and all have been dealt with."

"And he if chooses to deal with you?"

"He would not. He needs me."

Her brow furrowed. "Does he now? This independent ruthless force that even you held some manner of respect for?"

"Indeed he does, indeed he does. Do you believe in fate, my dear Felicity?"

"I believe in many things. Entreat me."

"He knows the one we seek to conquer by a different name, a different faith, but it is him alright. Him as known by your, as of yet tight lipped and uncooperative guest."

She quickly typed back. "These things take time. You know me. The joy is as much in moving the pieces into position on the board, as it is performing the final coup-de-grace."

"Says the lady who dealt with a potential double agent feeding information to those miserable mice by throwing him in a microwave and pressing on."

"-Sometimes you need convenience," she typed back. "Besides, I had been planning some expanded-foam play only to find someone had stolen the nozzle from the can I'd bought."

"Each unto our own, my dear Lady. Each unto our own, and 'The General'. He seeks his revenge unto his Keehar, as I seek to conquer my Clockwerk."

"And were these to be mutually exclusive?"

"All in good time, my Lady. All in good time. For now, we have found the cave that my records pointed to. We have burrowed in. It is long and tough going, but what records I do hold are lining up. The books and notes say it is the right place."

She tapped a few footclaws on the floor. "And your heart?"

…

"Paddy?"

"I must admit some uncertainty on that front, but we are persevering. It takes time my dear, time. These are untouched frontiers, our supplied are light, there is only so far a drone can fly before it needs a recharge, only so far we can relay the batteries down, only so far our lines can reach. We have dropped down pits and crossed underground rivers, found the ancient holy sites and scoured them."

"Scoured?"

"Indeed."

"In the past tense?"

"A war took place here, and those foolishly devoted would have done their best to hide what they sought to protect. But I know we are close. I know it would have never left the caves. Just like The General, he is tied to me, for now. It is only a matter of time until we find it my dear. It is only a matter of time."

"As it is here." She typed. "As it is for our enemies."

There was a pause, and when the time came she was certain she could hear his chuckle. "Do your worst my dear, you know I shall."

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The group nursed their steaming cups of hot soup and noodles, sheltering from the rain within the lip of the cave. What sleep their rotating shifts had given them was augmented by coffee, even Judy partaking in a measured amount. Along with high energy military bars and other endurance foodstuffs, all prepping them for the task ahead. Both exploring and defending the abandoned colony.

It wasn't like what Judy would have expected, though in hindsight it was obvious. The entire base of the cave had been carved out and blasted, the guano scoured and removed long ago. The result was just a set of flat terraces, small huts and walls still in place, the odd little rivulet of water flowing down between them, reaching the ramp to the next level before falling straight down the edge to the next stepl.

The ceiling, apart from where it had been blasted and new supports put in, was more like a traditional cave, albeit with numerous pockmarks and holes in it. Barricades for the bats that had lived here, hundreds of years ago. They'd fought the invaders from there, with swarm tactics and obsidian darts tipped in the poisons of frogs and scorpions.

The craters and blast marks from the heavy shotguns showed how that ended.

"It'll come to an end soon enough," Lt Vixen said, taking a sip of her noodle meal as she worked with the receiver device she'd set up. Stringing long wires across the cave where she could, plugging it in, hoping to detect the barest of the bare signals from the talisman if this was where it was. "There's a limit to how far they could get the guano out. And how far the oxygen could get in."

Skye nodded on, interested. "They had a steam engine over there, didn't they?" she asked, pointing over at a brick structure on the side of the wall, a line of broken brackets running up to a gap in the ceiling, a soft misting of rain falling down. "I'd assume that worked the winding gear?"

"It would have come later," she said, turning to Jack.

"I don't know the specifics," he said. "Just that the mines found it cheaper to employ megafauna. Some even hired elephants, or…" He shrugged. "I just remember my abuela talking about how when she was a little girl, and how she still remembers old elephants and rhino's living in some of the villages."

"It might have been for an electrical system, lights, maybe even powering the mine trains on the main line," Lt Vixen carried on. "Either way, it would have only been installed near the end of the mine's life. Some of these caves are giant pits. This one? It's a long winding labyrinth, weaving its way down, too complex for drag wires to make it, too cramped to burn stuff. It would have been heavy manual labour, at the crap face and bringing it back up."

With a spark, she began getting the equipment up and working, the other mammals slowly turning to it, waiting. "On the plus side, it means that the first part of our journey down will be easy."

"And the second?" Carmelita asked.

Lt Vixen paused. "No idea. But…" She trailed off, freezing for a second before a grin began to grow on her face. "Well, I've got some good news. We're not going to have to go back into the rain. It's here."

A hush fell over the mammals as they looked at each other, a question on all their lips. "Now what?" Murray asked.

"Firstly, we can invest in setting up this place in case Rattigan and co arrive," Carmelita cut in, looking around. "We're too large to use the former bat defences to our advantage, but if we were to clear all our gear, fortify that position there." She gestured towards a brick tower of sorts working its way into a cleft of the cave. It looked down, surveying the former mining compound, hidden from outside view. "They come in, they're trapped by our suppressing fire."

"Of course we'd need to clear everything here for that illusion to work out," Lt Vixen said, gesturing around at the gear they'd left out. "And set out cameras and motion detectors in a perimeter around the edge."

"And if they're spending all this time at that other site?" the lone sheep in the group asked.

"That's good," Skye cut in. "We don't want a battle, we…"

"I wasn't offering that. Give me a sniper rifle, I can sneak up, take out that rat. Take out any of his friends. Doesn't that solve most of our problems here? Or don't you trust me?"

"I don't think it's anything personal Dave," Nick came in, "just risk management."

"I mean it's not like I miss my shots or anything," he said, smiling a little. "I always hit my targets, especially those deserving of their fate." He glanced at Judy, smiling as he saw her brow furrow, her foot beginning to thump.

"I'm certain you can neutralise targets on a ten to one ratio," Lt Vixen said, walking past. "It's the eleventh mammal I have concerns about." She gestured up at the proposed strong point. "We all stay together in there, any attack coming our way is greatly disadvantaged. Besides, I heard that, were this to carry on for a while, reinforcements are on their way."

"That is true, some of Interpol's finest and deadliest," Carmelita agreed. "If you want to introduce yours to them and go on a rat hunt when they arrive? Be my guest."

"Sounds good. Pulpifying that jerkass rat sounds good to me."

He gazed around a little at the odd looks being given.

"Or I don't know, maybe you guys have some sympathy for the mammal who engineered the deaths of hundreds for the low-low aim of looting the city dry and giving him cover to summon a demon and take over his body to rule as some kind of god emperor. It'd explain the looks you're giving me for a start."

"Moving on," Lt Vixen said, smiling as she walked between them all. "I'd say that fortifying our position is the main priority now. That and doing a basic survey of the route ahead. Carmelita's team are yet to set off, and learning about additional supply requirements now would make things a lot easier than later." She looked around. "I'd suggest that the smaller of us head down. -Judy, due to her familiarity, Jack due to his knowledge of the local environment and hearing, myself and Carmelita due to our past experience in extreme environments and her knowledge of Clockwerk."

The response from Nick and Skye was immediate. "We're going too."

Carmelita glanced at them. "I understand that, but we need skilled mammals up here at the top. Tigress has no firearms training and would be alone in fortifying. Meanwhile, we do need someone with technical skills to set up our cameras, our monitoring. Etcetera."

"You know, it's not as if I'm not highly qualified for both of those tasks," Doug said.

"And with two mammals, two different locations, both can be taken out before anyone knows the difference," Carmelita warned.

Nick was about to speak, only for Tigress to walk up. "I understand wanting to be there, to fight with someone you care about," she said, looking between Nick and Skye. "But sometimes it's important to consider the wider strategy. To hold the fringes, to protect the sidelines. Ask yourself, what is down there that might threaten them? And what is out there that might do the same? Just because you are not by their side does not mean you are not covering their back."

Nick looked away, not happy. "I don't like it."

"We have some communicators to try and reach down the cave," Lt Vixen said, pausing as she reached for a bag. "And some relay systems too, to boost the signal. You can stay in contact. For as long as possible."

"And beyond that?" Nick asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We just won't take any untoward risks," she said.

With a deep breath in and out, Nick nodded, waving them on. "Fine, -just… Go and come back, before I change my mind."

There was a quiet in the air before the groups, swigging the last of their food and a round of coffee, started gathering their gear and setting off into the black depths below.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11:

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The air felt cooler as they descended.

Lt Vixen took the lead, tracing out the way with her night vision and experience. Carmelita was at the rear, to pick up any pieces.

Between them, Jack and Judy walked on.

It hadn’t taken long for the sound of the rain to vanish, instead replaced with a constant, monotonous trickle. Rain percolating down through the ceiling, channelled down short stumpy stalactites before raining down below, soon gathering into an ever growing stream that cut its way down.

The path itself was easy, a long gentle slope cut for pulling the guano carts back up, criss-crossing and zig zagging as it went. The most left for them to deal with were the odd old screws still hammered into the rock, or the steps cut to give the haulers hoof grips to push and pull.

In the meantime nature itself had thrown in far more to hold them up, slowly reclaiming its domain over the last century. Rock falls and slips were the most common and easy to avoid and, were it to stay like this, it wouldn’t be too much of a problem.

It was the water that Judy was worried about. No drain channels or pipes had been laid in during the cutting process, instead the miners fine with letting what groundwater percolated in flow wherever it liked. Flowing down with their access ramp or just cascading down one edge and falling to the next, over and over. It wasn’t like it mattered, to them.

Judy took a long step over the water cut gully, shying away from the water splashing down from above and into it, punching out a large plunge pool before cutting down and through, leaping out over the next tier before falling down again, the process repeating step after step after step.

 It had been a bare trickle not long before, managing to cut only a few little notches in the stones.

They cut the corner on the next switchback, sliding down a small slip-fall twice their height before coming back to the water once more. “What happens when we can’t cross it?” Judy asked, watching Lt Vixen make the long step over.

She turned back, shrugging as she helped Jack across. “I guess that’s for us to find out,” she smiled.

Judy took a running leap across, turning to watch Carmelita follow. The Inspector Fox just gave a shrug. “I’m afraid I don’t have much else to offer. We’re going into the unknown.”

Joining in with her, Judy carried on. “Still, all the other raids, missions, all those journey’s into enemy territory.” She paused. “Into Krakarov itself. You must…”

“You either spend all your time preparing and you get there too late, or you jump ahead and end up caught.” She shrugged. “Besides, I don’t think cave exploration is something they usually teach cops, is it?”

There was a pause before Judy let out a chuckle, Carmelita turning to her and raising an eyebrow.

“It’s an elective for special forces and mammals in the Nocturnal District,” she smiled. “The old caverns, tunnels, there are some that still aren’t mapped out. Places for mammals to go missing, things to be hidden.” She looked forward. “Maybe that’s where Rattigan is hiding out all this time, I…” She shook her head. “No, we still have bats down there. Lots of them. And I don’t think they’d like him very much now after what went on.”

“That and he’d need ways in and out,” Carmelita said.

Judy nodded. “Yeah. Though there are hidden entrances and exits. After all, the Fox family had one… Thank god.”

They turned around the next hairpin, carrying on with their descent. While their own trek hadn’t changed much, the cave around them had. What gentle slope had existed before was soon replaced with an ever steeper plummet, the access track now weaving back and forth, ever narrower, tightly clinging on as it cut its way down.

“You still get bodies,” the bunny said, Carmelita pausing to glance at her. “-In the nocturnal district. Every now and again a mapping group goes out. A bat or two, a few smaller mammals, usually a climbing mustelid of some kind, then the larger mammals. -There’s regulations and such, trying to avoid a large mammal getting stuck, forever. And here and there, they find things. Dead bodies, stolen goods, sometimes lying open, sometimes buried. Usually small things, small mammals, sometimes something larger. Sometimes we know it’s brute force, sometimes it’s clear it's dehydration. Sometimes it answers some great mystery. Most times it creates one.”

Carmelita gave a short chuckle. “You Zootopians.”

“Admit it,” the bunny managed with a smile. “You’re jealous.”

Carmelita was silent, a smirk on her muzzle as they reached the next area of water fall. The path down had gotten so steep that the water launched from the level above crashed down most of the way to the edge of this one. Rather than leaping across a deep cut gulley, they could edge their way behind the cascade. 

As four, the group looked on at their route. It wasn’t long, but there was only a tiny ledge between the rear of the plunge pool and the edge of the cliff towering above them. Lt Vixen was already slipping her bags off her back, Jack looking on for a second before reaching in to start unpacking a rope.

No words were spoken as Carmelita clocked the plan, taking one end and starting to unwrap it, all as the army fox stood up to the wall. Eyeing it for a second, finding a paw hold or two, she held herself tight as she sidestepped to the other side, soon turning to catch the rope. Carmelita had already pulled it through one of the bag straps and the pair worked at pulling it across, Jack and Judy getting the rest of their equipment ready for transferring over.

“How did you learn all this?” Judy asked.

Carmelita paused, turning to look at her, head tilting.

“It’s not like Paris has a nocturnal district like Zootopia, or… -Well you know,” she rolled off.

Carmelita gave a short little laugh. “Well, Le Police International has to think about wider… -Possibilities. Most of what I know isn’t caving, it’s climbing. I even took it up as a hobby, spending the summer in the Pyrenees, hanging by my claws over some lethal drop.” She smiled. “And then there was the Talisman we found in Svalbard, I…” She paused, having to divert her attention to shifting along their heaviest and final pieces of equipment. Over it went, Carmelita about to toss the rope over only to pause. “That paw-hold is too high for the bunnies.”

Lt Vixen on the other side paused, scanning around before nodding. “While we can,” she agreed, Jack holding the rope and being pulled across. Judy quickly followed, catching the rope as it was tossed and then Carm edging her way over as well. All four reunited, they carried on.

“I got a crash course in cave exploration to check on that site,” she said. “And experience following up to help rub it in.”

“What kinds of exotic places were thieves hiding in for that then?” Judy asked.

“Funnily enough,” she breathed out. “It was back home, in Paris.” She gave a look over at Judy. “We may not have a giant underground cavern, but we have plenty of tunnels. Same in Rome. Enough for bats to make homes in some, enough for criminals to hide in others.” She looked forward. “Enough for mammals to get lost and die in them, or for a criminal to hide the bones where they’ll never be found again.” She gave a shrug. “At least there though they’ll be in good company.”

Judy turned up, words forming on her mouth only to fade. Instead she carried on, the stream coming up again. This time dribbling and sloughing down the upper cliff, a wide but shallow set of channels cut in. 

“Seems we’re getting our paws wet for this one,” Lt Vixen said, shining the light down and doing her best to walk across the dry areas of the stream bed. On they followed, Jack taking his time to go to the cliff edge and shine his light down.

Judy followed him.

The switch-backing continued somewhat before the path vanished. Instead, there was just the rough walls of the falling cave and the rippling shimmer of the water below.

“That’ll have been the main deposit,” Lt Vixen said. Looking up, they shined a light along the edges of the cliff, once more small notches and marks of former abodes still just about able to be made out. 

“How did they shoot their way down here?” Carmelita asked, looking at her.

“Best guess, they didn’t. They threw a heavy net over the tunnel entrance. Waited a few months, years… Then carved their way down. All the way to the motherlode.”

“I haven’t seen any bones yet,” Jack said, as Judy gave Carmelita a look. The vixen shrugged. “Who knows. What I’m more worried about is what happens to this path.”

The others looked to her as she stretched out. “If we’re lucky, it ends in a tunnel that weaves its way down, around, into the next chamber and those beneath. We just can’t see it.”

“And I guess if we’re unlucky, we’ll get to the bottom and we’re just at the shore of bat dropping lake,” Jack filled in. “We didn’t bring a boat, did we?”

“No, we did not,” Lt Vixen said. “We did bring a hippo though.”

“Gracias,” Carmelita smiled.

“I’m certainly he’ll enjoy the alkaline bath. That’s assuming this even gets down to the shoreline. We might find it used to end on a ledge and they used a timber tower the rest of the way. That or a crane to haul what they wanted up and out. Still, only one way to find out.”

She turned and carried on down, Judy back in between the two, following close behind Jack. The hare was pulling out his radio, doing his best to dial in. “Testing, testing…”

“ Jack… We co… ver… ”

Skye’s voice made it out, just. The hare waved up a paw, the others looking to him. “We need to get a booster up, we’re losing it.”

Lt Vixen shook her head. “We should still be in relay range at the bottom of this. We only have so many, and we’ll likely need one in that corner either way.”

Jack looked on, unconvinced. “Skye? Skye?” He made his way back out towards the edge, waiting.

“ Jack… ” The voice came over, mixed with static. “I’ve got back into the cave entrance, do you hear me?”

“Better,” he said. “The path is still holding, but we’re going downhill, fast. We’re coming up to an underground lake, so might have to turn back. -Either way, see if you can get the Interpol mammals to bring some inflatable rubber dinghies or something. Oh, and maybe a cave diver or two, if they can spare one. -An underground lake would certainly be a place to hide one of these things.”

“I’ll feed it on,” she said. “We’ve hidden most of our stuff and set up security. -He’s here Jack.”

The whole group paused, turning to the radio.

“Rattigan, or at least we think… We sent a drone up to the upper sight. The thermal camera picked some figures up. We’ve parked it, in case someone makes a move down, but he’s here. -I told Interpol. They’ve even pulled in a flying squirrel battalion or something. DB Cooper him out of the back, shoot to kill.”

“Got it,” Jack said. “Fingers crossed.”

“Fingers crossed. And stay safe.”

“You too Jack. You too.”

“ Ahem ,” he smirked. “My middle name may be Danger , but it is also ‘ Comes back in one piece ’.”

“And I thought this generation had silly names… -But seriously…”

“I promise,” he said. “And maybe, once this is done, you can come down here as well. I think you’d like it.”

“See you soon.”

“You too.”

He flicked the radio off, breathing out. “So we’re in a race then.”

“One where the enemy is at the wrong course and doesn’t know it,” Carmelita said, pushing off again. “Still, no reason to turn back now.”

On they marched, Judy siding up to Jack. “Enjoying this then?”

He smiled. “I get why you wanted to be a cop.”

“So I could go hunting for an evil artefact in an abandoned bat cave mine?”

He gave a smile. “No, the adventure, the excitement, the…” He gestured around. “I never imagined I’d do something like this, see something like this. You know…” He trailed off. “I said to Skye earlier, that after the last time… -We were done. I’d done my part, I’d been the secret agent.” He trailed off. “I crossed that bridge.” He felt a soft set of paws on his shoulder, looking over at Judy. “-It’s okay, I… But right here? Not too long ago, I’d laugh at the idea that I’d even do something a tenth as mad as this. But now? I’m not sure I can give it up.”

“Hey, that’s great, I…”

“What about Skye?” he asked, looking at her.

Judy paused.

“To her this was never an adventure, it was a burden, a duty…” He stared off. “She’s the sensible one, I don’t want to put her through all this I…”

“You know,” Judy said softly. “That was kind of why I wanted to be a cop. I mean, I know I didn’t expect to be some ring bearing Hoppetses, but even before… I knew that it wasn’t action chases, shootouts, the works. It was the long grind, but it had a purpose. It was a duty, one I wanted. To help mammals, to make the world a better place.” 

Judy looked at him. “I can think of no-one better to make hers a better one than you. You two will find a way. I’m sure of it.”

“Thanks,” he said.

“Besides, you’ve already changed so much, that last little bit shouldn’t be anything,” she smiled.

Jack smiled too as they carried on down. Deeper into the depths of the earth.

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The binturong looked on, studying the raccoon sprawled across the couch in front of her. He didn’t pay her much attention, instead just studying his claws, occasionally adjusting the paintbrushes stuck up his nostrils.

“So,” she began. “Mr Wobble…”

“Wibble Wobble,” he smiled back, “I believe I could have your licence for that.”

“My apologies, Wibble Wobble,” she began. “So, is there anything you’d like to talk about today?”

He looked up into the corner of the room, shrugging. “Not really.”

“And yet you’re here.”

“ Not by my choice,” he said, raising a finger up at her.

“Right, right,” she said, nodding along as she scribbled out a few notes, pen tapping against the paper. “And whose choice is it, would you say?”

“Well, my friends… -Using that term very understatedly there, have gotten to the point where they’re forcing me here under the most underpawed tactics. Can you believe that?”

“I’m certain they have your best interests at…”

“-Yeah, yeah, I know that,” he cut in, glancing at her before staring back, away. “I know that.”

She let a silence settle for a bit. “Do you, now?”

“Yes…” He spoke, turning to stare at her.

A few claw scratches against the carpet and she responded. “Do they know that about you?”

His ears pulled back a little before he shook his head. 

“Let me put forward a hypothesis,” she carried on. “You’re here because you know something that they feel they need to know. Something absolutely tearing you apart. Something they feel needs to be shared, but you’re terrified of sharing because you know it’ll hurt them. For the greater good, you need to keep it to yourself, and your reaction to them, and them to you, is entirely based around this misunderstanding. This thing that they’re not getting. Hence your… protests about being sent here. Am I correct?”

“Well done Doc, I’d say you’ve got about the sum of it. Only problem is, it’s not them here, it’s me, and…”

“-And you need help squaring this circle.”

His brow furrowed. “No, I’m fine, I’m…”

“You go by the name Wibble Wobble, have a pair of underpants on your head and two paintbrushes up your nose. That’s amongst a whole catalogue of other behaviours. Lying to your friends to protect them, that’s a choice. Lying to yourself, now that’s a problem.”

“And what if the truth is worse?”

“It doesn’t matter if it is, it isn’t, if it’s the same… -It’s there, none the less. If a ship has a hole in it, it has a hole in it, nothing can change that. -But ignoring it will always be worse.”

“Yeah, well you don’t know it.”

“Well, tell me?”

He gave a chuckle, glancing at her. “Now, here’s the thing,” he said. “If I do, you won’t believe it.”

“How can you be…”

“You won’t.” He stared at her, his tail brushing up. “Shall I start by mentioning that it involves time travel? Hmmmm? That’s a good start. Now what do you think?”

She settled back, silent for a few seconds. “I think that we as mammals… We’re a lump of thinking jelly meat stuck in here,” she pointed to her head, “that only gets information in from a set of highly limited sensory detectors, that is constantly rewiring itself on the fly, doubly rewiring itself when we’re sleeping, is in a constant analogue chemical bath that can go absolutely awry… And is constantly trying to save space by filtering out what is important, what isn’t. It’s a whole crazy juggling competition, and weird things can happen. To the lump of thinking meat that is you, all of you, a fault, a bad reshuffle, a jiggle around inside… It can create things that feel as real and true as the here and now, but never happened.”

“So you think I’m mad.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “You’re lying down in my office, calling yourself Wibble Wobble, while wearing a pair of underpants on your head and stating that something is wrong, but you don’t want to talk about it. Which conveniently tells me that it’s something you very much need to talk about. I know it, your friends know it, and you know it too. And yet you don’t want to, so you keep avoiding the subject, throwing things out, etcetera etcetera, all while it eats at you. So, seeing as the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result… You tell me?”

He looked back at her, shrugging. “You’re wrong, by the way.”

Dr Amy nodded forward, paw gesturing out for him to continue.

“About us just being a bit of meat jelly. Souls exist. I’ve seen them as ghosts, and said ghosts being weaponised by a voodoo priestess.”

“Exciting life you seemed to have lived.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. 

“I’d love to hear more.”

“Oh would you,” he looked over. “Did you also know I was a thief. -Greatest thief in the world, descended from the greatest thieves in the world. Generation after generation, training the next, sharing a millenia of old texts, techniques, intelligence. Back and back and back, to the very first written words. Sprawling across the globe, that was my birthright.”

“And you didn’t want that?”

He barked out a laugh. “Are you crazy? All the stories my father told me, all the ancient pictures, text. All the training taking place, from before I could remember. All that, and just let it end!? It was my destiny.”

The binturong smiled. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes, I did want it!” he cut in, arms out. “More than anything ,” he gave her a stare. “I would be eight years old when I’d truly take on the mantle, inherit the book, begin the training fully. I remember the party my father gave me, inviting some of the local children, all that fun and some of the presents and… -It was nothing, nothing , compared to what was coming that night. What I expected. What came…” His expression hardened. “Five of them. Even if only their leader, that monster, that thing, could have done it by himself. I always thought of it as a group effort, but looking back, it was just him… Breaking in, slaughtering my mother, massacring my father, tearing my birthright apart and leaving me there, cowering, in a cupboard alive and terrified until the cops came to haul me off the orphanage. Dumping me there, expecting just like him that without the tutelage, without the ancient notes, I’d amount to nothing. Just… Just grow up to be some petty gangster or a wage slave or something. Well I showed them all, I went to each of them and defeated them, took back what was mine, I proved them… I proved him wrong.”

The binturong began making some notes. “These friends you mentioned, they were from the orphanage, correct?”

“Yeah.”

She nodded. “And all this, it’s about ‘him’ , is it?”

“I see that PHD of yours is working wonders.”

“Why thank you,” she smiled. “Want any snacks, popcorn…” He gave a snort as she shrugged back. “Never mind then…” She tapped her pen on the pad a few times. “Do you know why he attacked?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Go on…”

He took a breath in, glancing at her. “He… Clockwerk… Thousands of years waiting, just waiting, envying my family, despising it, wishing to not only destroy it but to prove it as nothing. Destroy our records, destroy our book, leave the last one alive and show… Show that without those, he was a nothing. He wanted to… He wanted to prove a point.”

“And those friends of yours, they know this too?”

“They were there when he spelled it out for me, on the day I avenged my family,” Sly said.

The binturong nodded. “And has anything changed since?”

“Nothing,” he muttered, “not really…”

“-Tell me about the time travel.”

He blinked, ears going up. “What?”

“You mentioned time travel, saying it was a whole part of this. I’d like to hear about that. What went on, what happened?”

“After… After defeating them, a lot happened. For years, things settled down, until they started going wrong again. One of my friends was working on time travel with his girlfriend. She then went missing, starting to work with one of my father’s old enemies, someone who blamed my father for his father’s arrest and so wanted to take it out against me. Against my family.”

“-The one who killed your father, does he have any family? Loved ones?”

“I…” Sly shuffled, frowning, silent. “I… I don’t know,” he finally said. 

“Right, carry on.”

“This skunk, with the help of the mouse who betrayed us… -Not of her own volition mind you. That’s something we learnt very recently, changed a whole lot of stuff…”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Well, now rather than letting me mind my own business he’s pushed me into this to ‘sort my problems’ out so we can solve what we’re doing now and go off and rescue her.”

“And you’re helping him out by delaying, obfuscating, etcetera…”

“You don’t know what I went through!” Sly hissed, standing up and marching over. “None of them do, and if they did! If they did, well… Well… -Well Wobble it!” He threw his paws up into the air before sitting back down.

“So,” she carried on, slowly, calmly. “You went back in time.”

…

“Wibble Wobble?”

“Yeah, I did,” he waved off. “-And it’s Sly. Sly Cooper.” He plucked the paintbrushes out of his nostrils and began tearing the underpants off his head.

“Wibble Coo…”

“Oh be serious for a moment,” he snarled, glaring at her.

“My apologies.”

“And you don’t need to do that too,” he muttered. “Come on, just come out and say what an idiot I am, what a waste of time, etcetera, etcetera…”

“I think you’re clearly someone in major need of psychiatric help,” she said softly. “You’re just scared about whatever awful truth exists, that you can’t tell others, that if you acknowledge yourself… It changes who you are.”

The room was silent.

“I knew about someone,” she began. “Someone like you. -He had a daughter, he loved her, loved her so much that he risked his life to save her from an accident when she was young. He grew up, raised her… It was tough, they had to move a lot, she struggled to make friends. Especially when she got older, she began talking about how lonely she was. -And when she got older, he began having problems. Wouldn’t say what it was, acted like you. And in the end he managed to get out his awful truth. She’d had an older sister. An older sister sat just a little further away, so he’d got the little one first… And on getting out, there was no way to go back for her.”

She took a breath in and out. “He’d rationalised it before, but seeing her loneliness gnaw at her, he began blaming himself. He’d always said that the older sister had died straight away, what difference did it make, nothing changed for her. Other than that her father hadn’t tried harder to save someone who she’d grow up with, who’d mean she never would be lonely. He thought that if she knew the truth, she’d hate him. In the end, when she found out, she didn’t at all. She didn’t even forgive him. She thanked him.”

“Did he get them into the accident in the first place?”

“Depends how you mean that,” she said.

“Go on, tell me.”

“How about you tell me about this time travel stuff first.”

“Well, skunk fellow tried to erase my family from existence so I followed him. Back through time, place to place, meeting and fighting alongside the ancestors who were in that book, in the records, meeting them face to face. Knights and outlaws, cavemammals and ninja’s.”

“Did you enjoy meeting your heroes?”

A smile grew on his face. “Yeah, it was good.”

“Was he there?”

“What, skunky…”

“No, him. ”

Sly snapped to her. “How…” He closed himself off for a second before the level gaze coaxed him on. “We didn’t notice it at first, but then… -Yeah, always there, before even the records themselves. Far away, in the shadows, waiting. Just… Watching… Waiting…”

“What for?”

“In the end, we got back to the present,” Sly continued on. “Fighting that skunk, in the end I… I was caught in his machine as he set it to self destruct, thrown back through the timeline. For all intents and purposes, I could have been thrown into the core of the earth or out into deep space, but I ended up in ancient Egypt. Alone. No support, no resources, just my wits and skills.”

“So you didn’t get a chance to reunite with your father?”

“I…” Sly’s ears perked up before he looked down, wiping his face. “No… No, I… We didn’t…” He pinched his brow.

“I think he’d understand, forgive you…”

“Do you now?” the raccoon snarked.

“I haven’t heard anything bad about him so far, -apart from being the master thief and stitching up someone else’s…”

“He didn’t stitch Le Paradox’s father up, he outplayed him,” Sly growled. “Big difference.”

“My apologies. To you and Mr Cooper.”

“Conner.”

“Hmmm?”

“Conner Cooper, that’s his name. Very good name. Met a silverfox who chose Conner as his name as well. They’d have gotten along, I think we all would, I…” He shook his head.

“Let’s move ourselves back to Ancient Egypt shall we?”

“Very well then. Ancient Egypt! What to say, what to say… After the initial culture shock I spent the first few months handling myself pretty well. As you can imagine, a very basic people, not much in the way of security, lots in the way of things to steal. Barter…”

“Still, you must have stood out,” the binturong said.

“Yeah, yeah…” he shrugged off. “Probably a good thing. I knew my friends, in the present, they still had some level of the tech. I still had mine. Worst case, I screw up enough things for them to notice the change and send themselves back for a rescue. Best case… Well, my family had records going back to that time, that era… -Roughly . I wondered if I might meet up with one of my ancestors from then. Not that it was a good chance, by a long shot. I mean, by the time I got to ancient egypt, a lot of the egypt was already ancient if you get where I’m coming from. Still, a raccoon could hope. A raccoon could dread.”

“ Him again?”

“Sure, he’d held off all those other occasions, waiting for his appointed time or whatever. But maybe he genuinely had been weaker back then, or just always overestimated our strength, I didn’t know but… Me, alone, in the desert. I’ve often wondered why he didn’t just drop a rock on me from high up, and those feelings resurfaced. Here I was, back in his domain, not like I had a shock pistol and jetpack to fend him off.”

“Did you ever see him? ”

“I never saw Clockwerk.”

“Still, being there, at risk from this monster of your past. In an unfamiliar environment, I can understand your concern.”

Sly let out a short laugh. “Yeah, no. I… Over time there, I began getting the hang of the language. Though I had bigger plans… Or ideas. Back when I was in the present, I’d heard of these big dams being built in eastern Turkey. Flooding caves, cities, cave cities and such. I thought that, well, if I get there, hide as many hints and clues as I could for the archaeologists to find, it might be a way of getting that information out to my friends. So, another whole language to learn, plus getting there… Though that wasn’t going to be too hard. I was spending most of my time in Alexandria. -Well, not Alexandria, it was too early for that. I don’t know how too early, but…” He shrugged. “Traders came and went, I figured I could easily sail with a bunch of bulls on their ships to Crete, or these, I kit you not, wolf-sized mini-elephants to their island, but after that… -Regardless, I was left to wait, ponder, sample the local cuisine and… -Hey, that reminds me. I grabbed some Silphium seeds and cuttings and completely forgot about them. That stuff lives up to the hype…” He gave a broad smile, licking his lips.

“I’ll take your word for it,” she said, scribbling her notes down.

“Regardless,” he said, “one of the things I was able to do once I’d figured out more of the language was to do simple magic tricks. Say I was from the far, far eastern lands, show off some homemade gunpowder… I was genuinely invited to some birthday parties to show it off!” 

“I suppose a raccoon showing up conjuring fire in hieroglyphics would bring about some attention in the present,” she said, smiling.

“And yeah, that was one of my ideas… The Great Cooper. Though that didn’t translate too well to Ancient Egyptian, so I was the Great Kuhnnhah. And it did. I’d got a small hut by this point, wasn’t even that reliant on thieving, when there was a knock on the door.” He looked off, smiling. “A pair of small camel kids, they said an ‘Athenian’ had come to visit.”

“Was Athens a thing at this point?”

“Don’t know. I assumed so and didn’t think any of it. -Though I was a bit surprised at what species arrived… -Have you ever met a sentient reptile?”

“I’ve seen one, two…”

“Uh-hu, and a sentient bird?”

“No.”

“Yeah, right. I suppose I’m ‘lucky’ in that regard.”

“Was ‘he’ one?”

“Clockwerk? Yeah. And a few after, I…” He pulled his fingers down his head. “Though I’m certain in the strictest sense, Clockwerk wasn’t a bird. He could have been anything, to begin with at least. After that, after starting his vendetta, after replacing his body with metal…” Sly worked his mouth a few times. “As it turned out, this guy was a sentient bird too. But again, maybe not by our definitions.”

“What do you mean…”

“He wasn’t from this planet.”

Dr Amy slowly nodded. “Right…”

“He wasn’t even from this dimension, I don’t think. But he looked like a large owl. -Not an eagle owl,” he shook his head. “No. Bit of barn, bit of great tufted, he had the fun feather things sticking out…” Sly pulled at the ends of his eyebrows. “I remember looking at him, confused as he bowed, then even more so as he gave a peck at the end of my nose. He wasn’t happy. ‘It seems you might have an excuse for messing around with time, not that I have to like it.’ ” Perfect french. Turns out he had an auto translator that honed in on my native tongue, in this case choosing french. I was wary at first. Who was this guy? Some kind of time police? He then laughed, no, he wasn’t. At which point I mentioned something about them not being there to stop Le Paradox trying to erase me and my family from existence.”

Sly stared off. “He didn’t know about who Le Paradox was, or anything. He was a historian.” He turned to her. “Get that, a historian. Or rather, an ‘archiver’. An academic. From a different time, a different universe. But that was what he did, recording and studying the histories of other worlds, other dimensions. He went back, made notes, studied. It was his job, hobby, etcetera… I’d missed members of my own family, but got back in time to bump into this guy, who offered me a way home.  Mr Kuhnnhah , he said. He had his ship, or whatever, that he used to travel between times, between dimensions. He’d cloaked it out in the desert but agreed to take me to it. Use some of its energy to take me to this time, before using what was left to go home and refuel. I… I was honoured, and so we set off. For him, it would have been easy, but for me? For me…”

He shrugged. “Well, just a long trek. On and on, in the middle of summer. We passed the time talking, a little. I mentioned a few of the great mysteries of our history, things for him to check out. He talked about the war. Of his home dimension, for the powers of magic, held within these jewels. Apparently there are plenty of our species over there, only… Evolved, differently, like him. Magic running through them. Battle hardened Echidna’s, some mammals who can race at supersonic speeds… A tyrant, converting innocents into robots, marching on, burning the world where he can. Owl guys race, a guardian race, they’ve moved into hiding. Trying to undo the damage of this…”

“Was this why he was here in our universe?” she asked. “Trying to find weapons, recruits…”

Sly shook his head. “He helped with the technology, the materials, etcetera… But… He was a historian.” He shook his head. “Just an airheaded scholar. -I had to ask if he wanted my help in that war. He was genuinely curious as to why. Again, he wasn’t there to intervene, he was there to observe. Once history was written, it was a true sin to try and unwrite it. -It’s why they didn’t just go back in time and shoot Dr Robot Git or whatever as a baby.” He gave a small chuckle. “He looked grumpy when I told him the plot of the Terminator movies, I…”

“-As for me, I just explained the basics of who I was, Le Paradox… -I didn’t mention Clockwerk though, didn’t see a reason to. He was gone. Or would be, once I got back here, I… I did wonder if he was one of these guys kind who’d been roboticized or…” Sly gave a shrug. “I planned to try and get Bentley and co in contact, see if we could help, I could ask then I…”

He wiped his paws away at his face. “Finally, we came upon his vessel. Big flying… square kinda thing, all cloaked up and sitting on the dunes on a set of landing legs. It shimmered on the outside, but when I got in… -The coppery metals and stuff, the style… Something began to tick in the back of my mind, I… I didn’t put it together to begin with, but… -Ever been in an office as a lightning storm rolls in, and you can’t see out, you just know it’s there, hovering over, you can feel the energy in the air. Know something is coming up.”

“Not exactly no,” she said, “but I understand the feeling.”

“Yeah. And as he activated the engines, began to charge up, I began to feel it more and more,” Sly said. “All as he carried on acting air-headed… He mentioned ‘the life boats’, essentially just long lasting stasis booths that would keep you alive indefinitely. In case there was a critical engine failure or something, he’d step in and set them for the year three-thousand AD or so on… Mentioned that were he lazy he might just set mine for Two-Thousand or whatever and leave me in a sand dune. But… -I saw them. They were made out of the same material as Clockwerk, they looked like him, I…” He looked down, seeing his paws trembling.

“-I kept saying to myself, maybe Clockwerk was just one of their kind, or… -But when I got to the control room, I saw him there, inspecting his leg. His robotic leg. I asked him, what was that… And he went off about how some mammals, a ‘dog’ of what kind I don’t know for instance, had been partially roboticized for aiding a freedom fighter before the process was stopped. How they had robotic legs and things just worked after that. I… -He went on about how they were working at length on reversing the process, finding a way to free the victims, about how some of the scholars had volunteered for partial conversions too to help advance their sciences I… -They’d even managed to get some fully back.” 

He looked at her, shaking his head. “He laughed as he said it wasn’t love as the poets said that had been key to bringing them back. Those who’d returned, the burning light they’d found and latched on to, to return them… That hot little nugget, powering them eternally. Hate. Hate at their enemies, hate at those who’d done this to them, just… Hate. The prime ingredient in everlasting life or whatever. I’d asked him what his name was before, he just gave this unpronounceable set of words or… -I asked him what they meant . ‘Mechanism of time keeping’. That was the closest literal translation. Clockwork. Clockwerk… It was him, it was him right there in front of me. The demon in the night, the monster who slaughtered my family, who I battled, who I defeated, but who promised that I would NEVER be rid of him because he was superior and here he was. Here he was, the fawn Hirschler in the crib, and I…”

…

“Sly?”

…

“I did what I had to do.” He looked up at her. “One flick of my cane, with a much more powerful flash powder. I stunned him. I then hit him on the back of the head to knock him out before tying him up and gagging him so he wouldn’t be able to use any of his voice commands. I flew that ship over the great pyramids and set it down, releasing one of the life-pods after setting the distress call, unlock code and release time as close as I could to what I needed… It all went so fast, I… I set the machine to use ALL of its power to go back, go back so far I don’t think mammals existed, I don’t think LIFE existed. And as the world just throbbed and shook and as my body just…” He wiped his paws over his face. “I saw that monster look at me… -I saw the same thing that tortured and killed my parents. I told him straight, laughing. Our line would ALWAYS be superior to Clockwerk. We’d won, the greatest thieves of all time. He was over, gone, I was going back to a world without him, the ‘Great Kunnhahh.’ or whatever, victorious! I raced out not looking and jumped out, all as he vanished back. Gone.”

…

“I cried. I cried with joy as I set the booth up. I was going to see my friends again. My family again. My father, my mother, I… dressed myself up as a proper mummy, just a bit of fun, you know, for my friends when they discovered me once more. As I knew they would. I knew they would. I set the homing signal to the one used by the communicators we used. I touched wood, went in and… -Next thing I knew I was walking out to see a very confused Dr Padriach Rattigan in front of me, holding something very Clockwerky. At first he was confused, then terrified as he learnt who I was. So I raced forward, nabbed that thing, showed them who was boss and raced out into the night. Into Zootopia! I soon learned my friend’s were in town, all of them… Only…”

…

“Clockwerk wasn’t gone, my parents still were. Nothing had changed. Nothing.” 

…

“So…” the binturong began. “You feel you got the wrong person, you…”

“No.” Sly shook his head, looking at her. “I wish it was. I wish I… It’s far worse than that. At first it was only small realisations, me still fearing they’d hate me for doing what I did. And then… Then I saw that night, the night that changed my life, through his own eyes.” He stared at her. “I should have known, I should…” 

She noticed his paws trembling and slowly moved forward, just in case.

“Sent back all that way, marooned, betrayed… -I’d drained all the energy from all the other pods as well. Who knows, it might have been so far back they could have never brought him forward. But he still had his tools. And his mind. And his hate, the hate for the one who did this to him. -Part of him was already metal, robot, so what if more of him was? And more, and more, doing what he had to do to survive. And then lasting however long, however much time he was, all alone. Waiting for our species to even evolve, before… -He still had some part of him though, he still had knowledge. Hate was what brought others back, and boy did he have a reason to hate. No wonder he built himself around it, no wonder he was fueled by it, driven by it. All this time, waiting, waiting to see this raccoon family form, watching its members, those he was smote for so they could live in glory. On and on and on, no wonder he hated them. Despised them. I… -I expect there’s nothing left of that innocent… brilliant… seed as it were, left inside what monster it became but… It knew what it needed to do. Both to bring down the Cooper line, and…”

She gently brought over a tissue, letting him dab his cheek. “How long was it. Billions of years? All after the great Kunnhahh did that to him, fresh from his battle with Le Paradox. All that time waiting, not to get revenge on the innocent Cooper’s before, oh no. He still had his faith or standards or whatever. Don’t change the words already written. It wasn’t going to be them, it was going to be the one, the one who did this to him. Right after the deed. Just needed to remember his name, that was all. What was it? Kunnhahh… Kunnahh… Kunnaahh… Kuhhhnaa… Kuuhhhnnnnaaa… Kooohhhnnnnarrr… Cooohhhnarr… Cooohhnar… Cohnnar… Cohnar… Conner…”

…

“Conner Cooper.” Sly said with finality. “However many billions of years he waited, he came so close. So, so close. One generation out. One single generation out, so instead of killing me, I cast him forward to murder my own parents.”

A resounding silence filled the room, the bearcat nodding a little. Sly just sitting there, jerking his head a little.

She looked up to meet with his cocking eyes.

“What?” he finally asked.

“I’m not sure if I’m following you.”

“-You know I was expecting the yelling, the throwing out, the screaming that I really am a worthless parent-murdering piece of trash,” Sly continued, “and maybe I was hoping, odd against odd, that you might offer a hug or something…”

“-A hug?”

“Yeah, holding on, gently cradling, ‘there there’s’ , the ones my mother used to give, before she got killed. Haven’t felt anything like that since I was seven so maybe a little bit of me was looking forward to that, not that I deserved it, not that I wouldn’t throw you off or anything. But tell me, Doctor, what’s your game right here?”

She froze, pen just off her pad. “What game do you think I’m playing?”

“I…” Finally he chuckled, throwing his paws up in the air. “Naturally you think I’m all making this up, that I’m all crazy and cuckoo and Lalala. So it wasn’t…”

“Mr Cooper,” she said, cutting in.

“Ah, here it comes.”

“Given that you came to this hospital, came into my therapy room, wore your pants on your head, two paintbrushes up your nose and called yourself Wibble Wobble, can you blame me for thinking that?”

“Touche,” he said, standing. “And you know what, I’ve just proven that getting help wasn’t worth it. Just a whole waste of my time, so if you’ll bid me adieu…” 

“Not so fast,” she said, smiling.

“Well, I…”

“Let’s say it is true,” she cut in, walking over. “I think there’s certainly things to still talk about then. And, if it isn’t, then let’s just say there’s going to be something very interesting behind what you’ve just said.”

Sly held off, just a little, as the binturong gestured him back down to the couch. “You’ve come this far Mr Cooper, and it is undoubted that what you’ve recalled was traumatic. Difficult. I can underside why you struggled to get it out in the first place and…”

“No, you don’t,” he said, folding his arms and walking back over, staring down at her. “First off, did you have your back snapped by Clockwerk’s robotic beak as you stepped in and tried to remove his Hate Chip? Were you confined to a wheelchair for the rest of your life because of it? Hmmm? I mean, Bentley certainly believed it was a worthy sacrifice to stop Clockwerk coming back forever. Maybe not so much now that he apparently has a ton of backups and the same rat who tore up your city is trying to bring him back under the vain idiotic misapprehension that he can somehow take over him and become a god. But, on learning that his ‘besty’ was the one who created that monster in the first place… Knowing that all this time he’s been helping the one ultimately at fault for his own pain and suffering, that he trusted him, that he loved him, that he’s broken him out of prison and rescued him from gas chambers and helped him on every heist all his life. That he gave up a potential life as a worldchanging scientist, that he chose to live the life of a criminal, that he felt he should throw it in with me, when I am responsible for the greatest evil on earth. Yeah, just… -Just think about it for a moment. Shouldn’t be too difficult, you probably won’t need that PHD, just running on Kitnergarten levels of energy will do…”

“What happened when that other mammal betrayed him?”

Sly stood there, blinking. “What!?”

“You said that on your travels his girlfriend betrayed him…”

“She was brainwashed, she still is…”

“-Before you learnt that,” she carried on. “How did he react…”

“Shocked, heartbroken, how do you expect?” 

“And when he learnt the truth?”

“It… It broke him,” the raccoon said. “He was crying, I did my best to console him, I… -What does this even have to do with me?”

“It’s about learning what kind of friend you have, to see whether the likelihood is he’ll understand the tragedy that took place and can forgive you, or not.”

“I… Well if…”

“Not well if,” she cut in. “Just the facts. Has he forgiven anyone before? Made good with anyone who hurt him before?”

“Well, not him, but…”

“So he did make good with a person who harmed your group, harmed you, or am I…”

“We’ve pulled past enemies onto our missions before, but…”

“So he’s very open to it,” she cut in. “Which makes me think that that isn’t the issue, that…”

“-That you haven’t been listening,” he barked, standing up, tail abrush. “Wha…”

“-I think you’ll find I have been listening,” she cut in. “You have a friend who has forgiven multiple people who’ve wronged him before, who is clearly intelligent, and who you feel will not forgive you because you made a panicked response under clearly intense circumstances which you feel led to someone incidentally hurting him. Mr Cooper, I have certainly been listening. It’s not that you don’t think he will forgive you. Look into your heart, I’m certain you know he will. But that it’s you who needs to forgive yourself.”

“Well I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“Well, for a start because I killed my parents…”

“No you didn’t. Clockwerk did.”

“Well I created Clockwerk! I took a genius, a brilliant person, someone who helped me… And I subjected him to a fate worse than death. I turned him into that monster.”

“So you are not guilty of killing your parents. You’re only guilty of creating this Clockwerk.”

He stared at her, blinking. “And that’s somehow better. ”

“-Than creating him and killing your parents? Yes.”

“Oh wow, that makes me feel better, I… -Did you know it turns out Clockwerk had a whole feud with a bunch of Soeviet intelligence officials, hmmm? He had some cannibal cultists doing some shenanigans here, he tortured and murdered some hikers there, blew up a jumbo jet. -Once, to really show those mammals who was boss and to stop them trying to mess with him, he decided to rip open a nuclear reactor for the funsies. You may have heard of that one, hmmmm? -There was apparently a highly inaccurate mini-series recently.”

“Again, Clockwerk’s deeds are Clockwerk’s deeds.”

“-And I created him,” Sly spat. “I made him what he was, I did that!”

“By accident, in panic…”

“-As if that’s a defence!” he shouted, throwing his arms up. 

“I would say in criminal law it certainly is somewhat of a defence. I’ve handled mammals for who it certainly is. In so many cases, it’s all the same. The guilt, the blaming, the eternal what-if’s. And ultimately I say the same thing every time. The part of you blaming yourself is your mammal brain, the bit that can think over, assess, rationalise this. But the part that acted then and there? The dumb lizard brain at the heart, running on analogue chemicals and designed for one simple uncompromising purpose. To survive. It took over then, it did what it thought it had to do to take this enemy on and stop him.”

“Oh, so you’re saying I didn’t do it then?”

“No. You panicked, you weren’t thinking straight, you are a mammal like any other.”

“No,” he said, turning around and kicking the door. “I’m the one who created Clockwerk.”

“No,” she said. “Clockwerk is the one who created you.”

“He… -No, it was my…”

“Would you have done what you did that night if you hadn’t, as you put it, watched this monster tear apart your parents in front of you?”

Sly stood, looking at her. “What does it matter?”

“It matters because, at the heart of this, I see a very toxic, very tragic, relationship.” She steepled her fingers. “I see a mammal who was undoubtedly traumatised by his worst enemy, but has somehow come to realise that his worst enemy would not have become that were it not for him. And the question goes back thereforth, who started it? Both of you? Neither of you? Was there even an inciting incident, or was it all this long slow slip into hell. Both of you caught, no way out. He’s there with you, forever. But you are for him, too. And in such cases, who started it doesn’t matter. Who took the escalating steps, doesn’t matter. Often, looking back doesn’t matter. It just retreads over painful ground and salts the wound even more. What matters, Mr Cooper, is accepting that this is the way it is, and doing what needs to be done next.”

Sly looked at her, slowly shaking his head. “I… I saw his mind, I saw him ripping my father apart and loving it. He fully believed my father was the one who hurt him, fresh back, he rubbed it in while he pleaded ignorance. My father, my mother, those on the mountain and those on the plane and those on the turbine hall roof, they all died clueless to what sin they had done. Because they hadn’t done any sin, it was my sin, how can I ever repay that?”

“Are there survivors? Survivors that know…”

“-There’s my friend,” Sly shrugged. “This poor guy and his friend who both think I am god's gift to earth for what I did, there’s…”

“And if you confess to them, let them judge, and they forgive you?”

Sly snorted, shaking his head. “Like I’d…”

“You wish to forgive yourself, yes?” She pressed. “I’m giving you a way to do so.”

“Not a very nice way.”

She shrugged. “If it was, would it be worth it? Would it work? If you want to get better, you’ll have to work for it.”

He looked away.

“-So, either you don’t want to work for it, which given your… -Clear skills and persistence, I don’t think is the case, or you don’t want to get better, which I think very much is.”

He gave her a glare.

“As I said, no-one is at fault here, you’re caught together in a trap, creating each other, locked and…”

“-So in terms of badness we can just average it out then. I mean, our kill rate is still in the thousands so…”

“Have you asked them to put you over their knee and tan your butt?”

“...WHAT!?”

She shrugged. “You obviously believe you are unworthy of care from your friends and deserve punishment for your actions. Have you requested that they force you into time out? Ground you? Extra chores? Physically discipline you? Spankings, whips, paddles, I’m certain that your intelligent friends can design and build an automatic device that will confine you and subject you to repeated consistent corporal chastisements. There’s also…”

“-Can I just confirm that I’m the patient here, you’re the doctor?”

“Yes, Wibble Wobble,” she said, looking up at him. “And given your reaction to my question, can you now see how absurd your desire to punish yourself is?”

“I…” he looked away, the skin in his ears flushing. “-First off you sound like my ex planning a special anniversary night in, -second, I… Uh…”

“Would she blame you, for all this, believe you need punishment or…”

“She’d probably agree to build a private personal prison for me, I’m certain she’d finally enjoy locking me up, feeding me bread and water every day, the works…”

“By your tone…” She began.

“Fine, fine, but that doesn’t matter! They’re not the ones harmed by this. They’re…” 

“You said you ‘saw your parents last moments’,” she said. “Not just yourself, but through him, too. I understand if this is uncomfortable or traumatic, but… Were they scared for you, were they trying to make sure you survived, or…”

“They spent their last moments fearing I’d be next,” he muttered. “Not that I didn’t deserve it, not that they shouldn’t have sold me out…”

“Except I’m certain that even if they had known what you’d do, that wouldn’t be the case. Would it? They’d want you to live, thrive, survive…”

“I’ve wondered what my Dad would think of me more times than you can imagine,” Sly said.

“And what would he think of you now? Beating yourself up, blaming yourself, cutting off your friends, your family. Would he be saying ‘good’. Would he be saying ‘that’s right?’. Your mother, too. What would they think? What would they all think? If they were here, right here, right now, if they’d listened to all of this, what would they do?”

…

Sly kept silent.

The therapist waited.

“They’d say they still loved me. Chin up. Smile on my face. They’d come in and hold me tight.”

She smiled, nodding. “Whoever this Clockwerk represents, whatever terrible thing has gone on between you, between him, whatever horrible cycle of violence we need to get you out of… This is the path your parents would want you to take. In their memory, do it for them. Mend the bridges with your friends, tell the truth. To them, to this ‘Clockwerk’ if he comes back as you say he might. It’s a weight you will always have to carry, but it is important to know that by the sound of it there are those who would be more than ready to help carry the weight.”

Sly gave a small laugh. “You know, I’m still not much of a fan of this…”

“Wounds take time to heal.”

“Yeah, yeah. -I’m curious though, what do you think it actually represents. Clockwerk, time travel… -I mean I know it’s all real, but you?”

“I have my theories,” she said. “Were you at or around city hall, did you have friends there? May I ask what you thought about Rattigan’s messages?”

“So you think I bought in, got some friends to go down to city Hall, got them killed, maybe me promoting some of these things got someone else on the train, only they thought that raccoons were the evil crazy ones… What with our long scary thin finger things…” He wiggled his paws about.

“Who knows?” She smiled. “But I’m certain it will be a long, challenging, but ultimately healing journey in order to unpack and discover what it really is.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“And were I allowed to, I’d certainly give you that hug you obviously really need.”

“I…” 

She chuckled as he gave a bashful glance down.

“Yeah, I’ll… I’ll go and tell my friends, get them hugs…”

“Uh-hu, I’m certain that when they come and visit it’ll be more than worth it.”

“Yeah, and…” He paused. “When they…” He smiled. “Ah, I see where you’re getting at. Understand. Anyway, I think our time here is at an end. Might go back into the yard, just… -Stretch my legs a bit. Anyway, thanks, this wasn’t totally pointless.”

“I’m glad you can agree,” she said, watching as he made it to the reinforced door to her office, opening it up and turning to face four rhino’s in security gear, the female coyote guard decked out in front of them, tranquiliser in paw.

“...Hello there,” he said, turning back. “You brought some friends.”

“Well,” she said. “I thought it prudent given that you clearly broke into a mental hospital, faked a mental illness to get here…”

“-Seemed to have people on the outside hack our systems,” the coyote guard said. 

“Hey… -As you can see, and she can attest,” he pointed back at the Binturong. “I really needed help.”

“Indeed you do,” the binturong doctor said. “Now, we’ve found a room ready for you and will set you up as a proper patient. For your and our safety you’ll be searched, have your claws trimmed, and we do reserve the right to use medical restraints, muzzles, etcetera.”

“Okay, one. Please talk to my ex, ever. Two… -I meant don’t talk…”

“I know what you meant.”

“-Three. All that, on a little itty bitty raccoon. Don’t you think that’s you enjoying it too much?”

“That would be the cavity search and stay in the isolation room Wibble Wobble,” the coyote said, holding out a pair of white padded medical pawcuffs. “Which, if you behave, we’ll be able to avoid.”

“And if not?”

“We’re very good with high level, high spec, long lasting tranquilisers. Now, can you put your paws in front of you, Wibble?”

Sly chuckled, paws out. “Just how high spec are you talking?”

The answer came from behind him as the Binturong began packing up her notes. “High enough that we’ve very grateful for the extensive collection of incontinence pads at our disposal.”

He gave her a look as his cuffs were done up. “Et tu?”

“Mr Cooper, don’t worry, everything will be okay.”

He nodded. “I know. For me.”

And with that the door closed, the binturong letting out a breath and shaking her head. “Had you been during my daytime hours that would have been a highlight,” she chuckled, checking the time and…

A sudden flash ripped out outside followed by a sharp cracking bang. Screams and shouting erupted, the binturong racing out of the door and turning to see the guards lying down or stumbling to get up, the raccoon they’d been escorting nowhere to be seen. She grabbed the nearest security alarm and pressed it tight. “Highly dangerous raccoon patient on the loose. We need him captured. Call in the ZPD immediately.”

An affirmative response came, the binturong walking out to check the guards. It seemed they’d just been flashbanged, the coyote guard left with the cuffs on her lap… -Or at least until a red fox very unstealthily stole them and threw them up.

Given that everything was designed to non-ligature standards, it didn’t get caught anywhere and his proclamation that ‘they’d never find it now’ rang rather hollow.

It didn’t matter, they didn’t even bother to deal with him as they cut passed and took off, racing out into the courtyard. Just in time to see the raccoon, a bag over his shoulders, climb straight up the climb-proof lighting towers and leap, balancing impossibly on one of the fence supports before taking off across the rooftops.

“Who even is he!?” the coyote exclaimed, looking down at her.

The binturong just shook her head. “I’m beginning to think the thing about him being the world's greatest thief… Wasn’t so much of a delusion.”

“You know,” a new voice spoke. “Even I’m beginning to think that.” They all looked to the red figure inbetween them. “What?”

“Swiper… Put some clothes on.”

.

.

With a knock on the door, Bentley looked up to see Sly coming in. The raccoon just stood there, frozen, holding at the threshold before sighing, turning around and sitting on the end of the van.

“I would advise against that, given that the ZPD are now looking for you.”

“Well, I…” He paused, taking a breath in, standing up and walking inside, closing the door behind him. He walked up to his friend, collapsing on his knees, just… Stuck there.

Arms hanging by his side, paws shaking.

The terror filled look on his face was briefly jerked away as Bentley lent forwards to hold them.

“It’s okay Sly.”

“It’s not.”

“No, it is. I can’t think of…”

“-I created him.”

…

“You created Clockwerk,” Bentley said, as if he was a teacher replaying a kits recollection of a schoolyard dispute to them.

“I… I… -I didn’t mean to!”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

Bentley held him tighter as he slumped forward. “I panicked. This… This traveller who found me, helped me, would bring me back home… I realised who he was, thinking I could stop him, strangle him in the crib, I… I’m what created him. There was a brilliant person, I killed him… He turned himself into that thing t o survive and get revenge but… -He thought my father was me. That’s why…. That’s why everything. I’m sorry Bent…”

He was cut off as the turtle hugged him harder. Sly didn’t know what else to say. He just let him do it, holding on back.

Chapter Text

.

.

"Inspector…" Judy said softly as she placed down a lighting beacon, shying away from the piercing beam it gave out. What little night vision she had faded somewhat as she turned around, looking on with Jack at the two foxes, phase-changing glasses on their muzzles and eyes focussing well away from the light source.

They'd got down the shaft fairly easily, finding a tunnel down through the rocks to a slick stoney shoreline. A good place as any and, with the sense that things were about to very much open up, they'd begun preparing for the next set. Lt Vixen unstringing her detector, Carmelita preparing a flood-light source to give them both a background light source for whatever came next and a route back home, Jack trying to wire in to Skye, the signal spotty. They were still looking over Rattigan's base of operations, their drone settling down as the rains went away.

Turning around, Jack was about to speak to Lt Vixen only to see movement from Carmelita, the vixen crossing herself.

Finally, the army fox spoke. "So… -That was what he was like?"

"Indeed," Carmelita said breathlessly. "Especially at the end."

Judy turned to Nick, expecting some pun or something only to be met with the memory of his current absence, the pounding and dripping of water washing well over it. What little echolocation she could do was useless here… -It was like asking her to use her beginner's rock-climbing experience to scale the outside of city hall with no gear in a thunderstorm. But, slowly, her vision began to return, the features of the caves making themselves clear.

All in front of her was a pockmarked craterscape of ice cold pools, the bare shimmers and ripples from flowing water catching the light they sowed out. In those nearby, she could see clearly through the depth, cliffs of rubble falling down, the odd tin can or piece of timber down there below.

It was the occasional splinter of a steel pulley system punching out the rim wall of one, or the odd set of steel struts here or there that really showed the legacy of the mining operation. All interspersed with the many rock columns of the cavern, its vaults and twists extending out and around seemingly endlessly, twisting and turning with the fault lines and ripples of the mountains. Carved out, water dripping in and around from everywhere, flowing in behind them, pouring in from other places, crashing down far ahead.

Chilling the place down, cold, seeping into her bones.

But it was the thing in front of them that made her shiver.

Carved out of the rock, flecked with pockmarks like a strawberry skin and then blasted and wounded with pickaxe strikes and hammer blows. His face, eyeless, still loomed out though, the small stone beak in the centre chipped off just like half his talons had been.

One though still remained perfect, a large jewel of quartz sticking out as a claw, just like the few remaining scales that hadn't been torn out. Judy tried to focus in, see what they were… -Not some jewel, they were semi-circular and bent, orange, varying in shape… A glance down and she saw one that had fallen and shattered, walking over to feel it, touch it… -Desiccated bone crescent with dried skin on…

She threw it away, wiping her paws, almost wishing she could curl up into a ball too. It didn't even bear thinking about. -How many, how many to complete that.

It explained the large grave pit to her side, the ruins of the rotten cross fallen down over it. The others gave it a glance before giving one more at the last monument the miners had erected against the dark visage above them. Still standing tall, a wooden crucifix, the carved sheep nailed to it not looking down in pain and misery but instead looking up, staring, eyes bared against the holes of Clockwerk's in defiance.

Judy idly wondered if the owl, immortal as he was so claimed to be, had been there, seen it, played a part? Any further thought though was cut off as Lt Vixen and Carm turned to the others. "That light has two and a half hours' worth of charge. We have backups but I don't want to risk them. After all, chance are we'll be coming down here for much longer afterwards."

Carmelita nodded. "We've set timers for one hour, and have a string to follow back. Low tech, but it works."

Lt Vixen brought out her receiver. "It's strong," she said. "We can roughly pinpoint the direction, -that way…" She pointed far out, towards the pounding water beyond. "It's not pinpoint though."

"Okay," Jack agreed, Judy nodding on. The bunny adjusted her small headlamp, turning it down to get the best out of her more limited night sight.

"See that pinnacle over there?" Carmelita said, pointing up at a large rock formation up ahead. Part jagged upthrust of rock, part stone column, part stalagmite and stalactite. One thing that was clear though was the slope up one side, potential footholds leading up further still.

"Good a look-out as any," the bunny cop agreed, the pair moving on.

So they went, tracking their way at first across the main line, footsteps careful to avoid the remains of old rails and sleepers. Here and there water squelched under foot as they forded a small blanket of rivulets making their way from one pool to the other, flowing with them as they pushed on towards the ever growing thunder.

At a tipped over half shell of a rusted out minecart they called a halt, looking over to figure out a way to their potential overlook. The easy trek along a wide path then ended, replaced with a tight trek along the ridgeline weaving between two cold deep pools. Lt Vixen taking the lead, Judy felt confused then worried then relieved as their path seemed to take them further and further away from their target before swinging them around on a clear path towards it.

A clear, ever narrower, path.

Judy looked on as the vixen in the lead went down onto all fours, paws out and gripping the crumbling beam, pebbles and dust trickling down the sides and falling into the clear black depths. She made it to an island of sorts, enough space for two or three of them, pausing to stand up.

"Judy should take the rest of the path," she said, gesturing on. The bunny didn't have any objection, making away along the same narrow path and then pushing on further, the path getting harder. Thinner, weaker, further out the water. Coach Friedkin's instructions and the icy cold baths of the training course came back to her, she would have a chance if she fell in, not that she…

"-AHHH!" A heavy stab of cold hit her on the square of her back, her limbs shuddering and twitching, pulling themselves in only to lose the grip they had on the earth below. She shrieked as she felt it crumbled, her purchase dissolving beneath her. Arms pulled in, she pushed them out, trying to grip the sides of something only for them to splay out in an avalanche, her body falling with them.

She felt the weightless pit in her stomach open up before it was all slammed shut as she hit the new crest, keeping her up and dry even as her paws dipped into the freezing water. Pulling them in, taking a few steadying breaths, -Not too big as she felt more small stones crumble away beneath her, she shivered as another cold droplet of water hit her on the back.

"Cheese and crackers…"

"-Need any assistance?"

She looked back to the army vixen behind her, paw still out to stay Jack and Carmelita in place.

"No," she breathed out, slowly worming her way forward. The water flowed in through her boots as she wormed her way back up onto the small way she'd been going along, carrying on like such until it blissfully widened out.

Finally though she had her route forward, the objective looming up in front of her. Thankfully the slope they'd seen seemed bone dry and cut with plenty of ridgelines and divots. Beyond that, she could scrabble up some stalactites here, reach that trapped boulder there.

On she went, working her way up, the climb a blissful reprieve as she pushed her way up as far as she could go. Finally, pulling out a small low intensity flare, she pulled it and threw it true towards a nearby raised bit of rock.

A dull red light permeated through the cave, lighting up the route beyond. The pock marks of the quarry works carried on and on, starting to fall down, the water between them rippling then gushing and then pouring into a deep cut canyon that sliced through the underground cavern.

Beyond that was what the place would have looked like before. Instead of the deep flooded pits, the cavern floor was lower, more naturally undulating or half filled up with a darker coloured substance, piled up into hardened mounds. Still, it wasn't like…

-She froze, eyes transfixed on the other side.

Up in the cleft of a rock cloister, surrounded by the carved out holes of former bat homes, lay a small hole moving further on. No particular shape, no real reason to go there, accessible but only just, a tricky climb up a steep rockfall the only way in…

But she kept her eyes on it, not knowing but… -Feeling.

She didn't remember it from her 'dream'.

She didn't remember all that much.

Maybe her mind had thrown it aside as she woke up, only the cliffnotes remaining. Ocean, beach, striped rabbits, jungle, cave.

But in there…

"-Judy?"

The voice came over her walkie talkie and she picked it up, speaking in. "Yeah, I…"

"-Any news?"

"I… I think I know the way forward. -Well, I feel…"

"Good enough for us, any way through?"

"It's across the canyon, I…" She gazed around, there didn't seem to be any way across, the miners having never seen the effort to bridge the… She froze, blinking as she saw something, her mind piecing what was needed together just in time for it to vanish, the flare burning out. As her night vision adjusted somewhat she spoke back in. "I think I know a way."

She slowly began working her way back down only to flinch as a crunch came out, her paw slipping ever so slightly. A look down, her paw moving, she flinched back as she saw the pile of tiny bones crunched under her palm. Some larger, some smaller, little bits of stone here and there interspersed, a dozen or so tiny skulls lying amidst the pile.

She didn't know how many else there were in the nooks, the crannies, the many small holes in the roof of this place.

It seemed ever so colder now as she made her way back along, back to the others where she filled them in. With that, they began their trek back to the main route, then forward, further along, Judy closing her eyes and trying to think as much as she could. If she… -Right here. With that, they followed a branch route, at first running aside and upstream the underground river before then turning towards it. The pools either side were lowering, at first by a metre or so each mine pit, then more, long steep jagged cliffs to the left of them and the right of them, no way out of the freezing water were they to fall in.

Their path was only cautiously narrow, at the moment.

"If I'm right it'll…" She paused, smiling as she looked down. Below them lay the underground river itself, cutting down the rock in steep stepped channels, carving its way out and through the soft rock. All undisturbed by the mining, up until it took a sharp bend, spreading out into the pit of one of the hollows and carving through an archway into the next, where it then cascaded down back into its original course. Looking up, were they to cross the archway then they'd reach the original route of the canyon, the channel bed now held aloft above the waters around it.

"That's still a long way down," Carmelita said. "And a long way back up again."

"We're only a few minutes away from our hour being up anyway," the Vixen said. "But I say we go for it."

"I tie ourself off here," Carm agreed, tying her line in place. "We've got spare floodlights for further on and, even if that back there dies out, hard part's over."

"Sounds good," Jack agreed, pausing as Lt Vixen began unwinding her detector.

"It can only get the general direction," she said, looking over to the hole in question. "But if it's not there, we can rule it out. If it is, a double check inside will confirm it."

Jack nodded. "And then what?"

Carmelita looked to him and Judy. "Who knows, a cave just as large as this, a small shrine?" She looked to Lt Vixen. "That thing can't pinpoint it, right?"

"No," she said, the Interpol fox shaking her head.

"Then we might just be in a needle in a haystack situation."

"Or…" Judy began, "A needle on display situation. Let's hope for the best, okay?"

Jack nodded, glancing at Lt Vixen. "I'll contact the others, inform them."

So they did, the one-hour alarm ringing out not too long after. Lt Vixen confirmed that the talisman was not not in the further cavern, Jack relayed the update to the surface. Communication was getting patchy, the foxes setting up another communication relay to wire themselves in as best they could.

Finally, giving themselves the all clear, they began making their way down and up again. A rope fastened to a rocky outcrop, it was fairly easy to abseil down the slope. It was steep but not vertical, slick but not crumbly, and with both plenty of foot and paw holds and terraced steps along the way. One by one, their feet pressed into the soft sand of the former channel as they made their way over, the crashing of the water all around them.

Moving up was trickier. Carmelita and Lt Vixen took turns fostering for each other as they free-climbed up from terrace to terrace. The few times they thought they could they fixed in place permanent wires, all as the bunnies below began shivering from the cold mist thrown up around them. They both huddled down, ears down apart from when Jack's, sometimes followed by Judy's, would briefly shoot up. -An odd sound, a tricky echo, maybe a stone dropping in.

The police bunny shook her head. It was just her mind playing tricks on her, this place wasn't haunted by the ghosts of tens of thousands of devil worshiping bats and Carmelita said that ghosts were real, didn't she? They were confirmed, she supposedly captured an evil alligator raising an undead army in the depths of the Haitian jungle and so she was actually very justified in being paranoid, wasn't she?

Finally a call came from above, a permanent ropeline being dropped down. Jack and Judy quickly knotted its end to its partners, lest a sudden inflow of water top their current bridge across. They then began making their way up, slowly, carefully, Jack especially resting his limbs at times before they made it to the other side.

"Forty minutes," Lt Vixen said, breathing out. "Still, hard part's over."

Judy nodded, looking along. That entrance again. It'd be a lot of scrabbling and walking across millennia old bat dropping deposits to reach it, but it'd only be undignified and messy, not difficult. "Yeah, I… -I'm really hoping that I'm right here."

"As am I," the army fox smirked as they started on their way.

"You're not the one leading us forward on purely déjà vu."

The red fox vixen gave her a look. "We've got some science backing it up, so your déjà vu is better than mine at least."

The bunny nodded, walking along.

"-What's yours then?"

She and the army fox turned back to Jack, the bunny shrugging.

"I…" The army fox said, pausing and looking past him for a second before shaking her head. "Just a feeling. A feeling of a feeling if anything."

"Mind playing tricks," Judy nodded, walking along with Carmelita, the others following. "Totally not anything returned from the dead. Right?"

"Who knows," the interpol vixen said. "I wouldn't be surprised if there's a lot of ghosts down here.

"Yeah," Judy mumbled in agreement, pulling herself closer. "Neither would I."

On the trek carried, the pathfinding along dark pathways replaced with shuffling along, over and around the crumbling stacks of ancient guano, slowly pushing on towards their end destination. The more she looked, the more the bunny saw the remains of those who had once called this place home. Piles of tiny white bones, along with small cut obsidian daggers and other little trinkets. Along the roof and walls she saw the hollowed out windows of small rooms and homesteads, freezing as she saw a larger figure in white, long needle thin wing bones wrapping up around a tiny skeleton figure, cradling it up against its hollow chest.

Her mind flashed back to the ruins of 'Animal Farm', the old bunkhouse for the wolf pups who'd been split from their mother and raised to be the terror enforcers of the regime. The right paw, the secret police, the warriors… -The dumb teenagers who didn't know any better and thought they were saving their mammals and their leader when they stood point in that barn where the siege would end.

Somehow, burning to death felt better now. Over quick, maybe with the sudden sense of betrayal if they knew what their leader had done. Here though, how long could a bat last, cut off from the world above?

Starving out?

Hopeless, confused.

A small army of Clockwerk cultists or not, did it matter? Was she bad for not nearly feeling as bad for them, still.

May… -She froze, standing up, ears turning followed by her head. Her nose twitched as she stared over into the distance.

"You two okay?"

It was only at Carmelita's query that she realised both she and Jack were looking off in the same direction. "I wish you hadn't told me that ghosts were real," the female bunny said, shaking her head and looking at her. "I preferred the ignorance."

"Ignorant or not," Lt Vixen said, "doesn't change the fact."

"At least it would mean I could tell myself it was my mind playing tricks on me."

"Ahem," came a voice from behind. She turned to Jack. "While I'd like to agree, I did hear something too."

"A rock fall or," Lt Vixen began, trailing off as she looked at the other three.

"No," Jack began, "I don't know what Judy heard…"

"I'm not sure myself," she filled in.

"But it was something, a scrabbling or…"

A brief flash of light was cast by Carmelita behind him, looking on. "I don't see anything. I do feel that sense you talked about too though, though I'm sure it would be lingering spirits."

"Did you get that in the Catacombs?" Judy asked.

The Interpol fox shook her head. "No, it doesn't work like that…" Her eyes widening she dove into a pocket and pulled out a small device, clicking through it. Lt Vixen did the same, both turning to each other with a sigh of relief.

"Not bad gas and faulty readers or anything," Carm said, her features softening. "We've pushed hard, you're not used to this… And now we've got it in our heads…"

Jack nodded, walking up to her. "Not that I can't see your concern too." He raised an eyebrow, eyes resting on her paw, as ever resting on the shock pistol practically glued to her hip.

She furrowed her brow and blew out a huff. "Come on, we're nearly there."

The last few scrabbles and pushes weren't less haunting than before. Instead they just focused, Judy repeating Nick's mantra in her head. 'Never let them see that they get to you'. 'Never let them see that they get to you.'

It kept them somewhat sane as they finally reached their destination. At first she thought they'd have a difficult climb up to the looming glistening maw. Instead, a small crack had been cut through by a trickling waterfall, the various slips and cracks in the rock giving them a paw hold up.

"Throw me the rope up," Lt Vixen said, already making the climb to the lip, Carm quickly following through. A tie up and testing tug and Judy and Carm began making their way over, Jack staying behind a second to talk into his communicator.

"Hello? Hello?"

A few seconds passed, then a few more.

"Hello? Nick? Skye? Do you come in?"

He turned to the others, shaking his head.

"They're not answering?" Judy asked.

"Not getting through," Jack said, looking up. "We… We're line of sight with the last relay, right?"

"Not quite from there," Lt Vixen said, getting her own out and calling in. A second passed, then another. "No static, no nothing."

"We can't have gone too far," the hare began, his nose beginning to twitch as he turned to them. "What… What if something happened?"

"Jack…" Judy began, the hare turning to her and fixing the doe bunny with a hard glare.

"We know Rattigan and his hired goons were close by, what if they attacked…"

"Jack, they…"

"They what?"

"Would have radio'd down a warning or something," Lt Vixen said.

"How do you…"

"-They were in a position where they could not be ambushed. Five of them, well armed, ready…"

"And if it was actually only four?" Jack asked, folding his arms and glaring at her.

"I have a super special alarm just for that, and he has a mammal or two monitoring him by sat-link."

"-Which works really well in a cave, right?"

"I…" The army fox pulled back a second, tail swooshing up into one paw. She was halfway through the first brief fiddle with it when she shook her head. "For all we know, one of the relays simply developed a fault. Or slipped off."

"-Or was taken over by ghosts?" Judy asked, giving another look around.

"Judy," Jack began, stomping a foot. "Be serious here, for a…"

"I am," she said, placing her paws on Jack's shoulders before he could react. "I've got Nick up there too, don't I? I can be just as scared for him as you are for Skye. But I trust them up there. -Heck, after that rescue mission I'm even surprised that you're thinking our Woolly friend did them in."

Jack looked at her for a second, jaw falling to the floor.

"-Oh don't get me wrong," she said, shaking her head. "I still think he's a complete pellet. But even someone like Bellwether has standards. -Very low ones, yes, but ones still the same."

"Good," Jack sighed, "I thought we'd all gone crazy there."

"We might all be," Carmelita said, starting to shuffle back down. "None of us are used to anything like this, some more than others. We've had a long, hard trek after a long journey after what was supposed to just be a scouting mission. That's on the back of all of us seeing cussed up cuss none of us should have and having not nearly enough time to come to terms with it. We're tired, we're mammals, our minds are playing tricks on us and if it's not our minds there's a good chance of supernatural interplay here… -Not least as Clockwerk likely knew what became of this place and could have given the information over to Mz Ruby back in the days of the Five. I'm sure she could have a lot of fun with those souls, and we've just spent the last however long trekking through the spiritual toxic waste. We're under a lot of pressure. We've done well. Let's call it here and return to the top base. Rest, cover, next time we bring all the tools we need and we get it."

For a second Judy began to voice her rejection, only for it to die in her throat. The Interpol vixen's words rang true, and she'd learnt when to quit. Or at least take a break. "Sounds good," she said, glancing over to Jack. "Come on."

"Huh?"

"Let's get you back to Skye."

He looked at her for a second or two before looking back up. "Aren't you going to wait to see what she's got to say?"

Judy looked up, spotting Lt Vixen on her detector array again, working at it. After a second or two she looked up. "It's screaming. Dozens of times stronger than if we were right up next to Kozlov's talisman. I'll say one thing, that bear did a real number on it."

She looked up to Carmelita, the fox cop not looking impressed. "How much further could that be though? Behind that corner, two kilometres further on. You don't know where these max out, do you?"

She paused, mouth part open and tail coming up into her paw again. "True," she said, giving it a good fidget. "But imagine if it is just around there. Or we do come back after reinforcing and find there's a specific tool we might need."

Carm closed her eyes. "We get up there, we give it fifteen minutes. No more."

"Fair by me," Lt Vixen said. The others began making a move, Jack amongst them. He was unable to stop his ears twitching back though, his gaze turning and looking at the far away light of the cave entrance, the gaping structure of the catacomb glistening in the darkness. A wet open jaw. Something felt, heard, maybe even smelt wrong. Close by. And he couldn't help but look back towards the way to the others, Skye… Whatever was going on up there.

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Nick cradled his head, the prick of claws pushing through his skin as he studied the reconnaissance photographs. There it was, the upper cave entrance, a small maw cut into the rainforest slope.

Vines had been disturbed, areas cleared around, tents erected and a rough set of trenches and lookouts put in place. The camera zoomed in to reveal the disturbance in the cavern's veil, the interlopers moving in. How far he didn't know. -The last update from his group, not so long ago, was that they were just crossing an underground river. They were close, they might even return up with it.

"-Do we have any grenades?"

The question pierced the quiet of their own underground abode. Holed up in an old room of sort, maybe an overseer's office given the rusted out metal remnants of a desk -the timber just a sodden mushroom covered pile, Skye's voice pierced the air louder than any of the previous thunderclaps had.

"Oh, uh… We have a few basic blasting charges," Murray began, closing his eyes and thinking back. "I remember, they were in that bag we gave that army vixen and… -Ah…"

"That would indeed be a problem," Tigress said, rapping her fingers on the wall.

Skye nodded, shaking her head and breathing out. "-Wouldn't have worked anyway, we'd need to wait for the next rainfall to provide sound cover to bring our drone back, set up a firing system, get it back again, I… Even if we were lucky enough to see him come out, he could duck, run away, sneak back to his stealth drone…"

"-What's this about a stealth drone?"

All eyes looked up at the lone sheep in the group, Nick answering. "Rattigan gets about using this piloted stealth drone, he…"

"-Sounds pretty cool, do we know where it is?"

"No," Skye spoke.

"-Shame, it sounds pretty cool. Also provides a rather clean-cut solution to our problem."

There was a still silence before Nick guffawed.

"-You want to share that with us, Fox?"

He looked up. "Rattigan died returning to his home city, I…" He saw the less than enthusiastic looks on the others and waved it off. "Funnier in my head."

"Probably was," the sheep agreed. "I've found foxes to have incredibly accessible humour standard. Guessing you were considering walking over to it, strategically loosening the bolts on some of the props, that or spiking the fuel with something. -Not that it'd work."

Skye looked up, frowning. "And why exactly wouldn't it?"

"-The terminal velocity of a rat is generally lower than the lethal fall velocity. Not withstanding any emergency systems on the drone itself, etcetera. -Now if you could gain access to the onboard generator and wire a temperature sensitive fuse against it, connected to our said explosives, then you'd rip the thing apart from the inside out."

"Well, shame we don't have anything like that," Nick muttered.

"Okay, even I'm stunned by that display of remediality. We're in an abandoned guano cave, full of the prime ingredients for saltpeter. Harvest some potassium nitrate here, mix it with the butane from one of our mini stoves, ensure it's in a tight enough container and as soon as it reaches the flash point it'll detonate. Rig any explosives or even some of their own grenades nearby up tight to any main support struts and with fairly lightweight wires holding the lever in place, a small first blast will dislodge at least one and certainly set up a highly effective rat killing chain reaction."

Skye tilted her head at him a little. "Or you just tie those grenades in place, tie a heavy rock to each pin, leave them balancing in the engine bay. Rattigan takes off, the vibrations will eventually dislodge one, pull the pin…"

Doug looked at her for a second, nodding. "Potentially, but I'm not a fan of the lack of chemistry in it. Still, vindicating to know that some of you vulpines still possess it."

Before Skye could say anything, Nick spoke in with a wink. "Don't you forget it Dave."

He looked away, smiling. "Nope."

Meanwhile Skye just carried on searching the photo view, tapping her chin.

"-You're thinking about it."

She looked over at Nick, nodding.

"Next rainfall, take it up, just see… It's got to be somewhere nearby."

"We won't have a chance to get close," Nick said. "It won't be somewhere safely on the edge, it'll…"

"-Who says we need to sneak up to it and boobytrap it," Skye said, narrowing her eyes. "If we just take it out when we recover that thing, we trap them here, we…"

"-Make useless the whole 'wait for reinforcements and ambush them in complete surprise thing' the army vixen was so proud of herself for," Doug cut in. He glanced to Nick. "You're going to have to work double time for your species here."

"Hah, do…" Nick was cut off as a growl rang out of Skye, the red fox glancing at her. Before she could say anything though she stood up, turned and walked out. A few gestures by the red fox for tigress to take over watching the drone footage and he followed her down to another dank mouldy room, just as she picked up a stone and threw it, letting out a long huff.

"-If you're going to start with that never let them see stuff I…" She began, turning to him only to see his paws raised and a soft look on his face.

She turned away, moving to a rough cut window overlooking the cave entrance and rested against it, face sticking out.

…

"-You're not going to move until we talk this out, right?"

He shrugged. "I'm not going to speak until you want me to."

She gave a half-sigh-half-growl, brow furrowing before she shook her head. "I didn't want to leave it up to Jack again."

"I didn't want to leave it up to Judy either," Nick said back.

"How many times have you been by her side, how many times did you take the lead? You put yourself in danger to get everyone out of that crashed police cruiser, didn't you? If they ever ask what you did and you need to prove yourself useful, you can just remind them that you were covering them and…"

"-Getting caught." She looked back at him as he followed on. "I would not recommend it."

"Jack… I said that I'd be by his side, to help rescue you, only to get benched. -Waiting there, just… Just waiting, fully expecting him to be dead. Then there was the explosion out at sea and… -And I… I…" She flinched a bit as she felt a red paw on her own, looking over to see a sympathetic look.

Sighing, she glanced away again. "When he was called up here, I told him that he wouldn't have to go through that again. I'd be there, I'd be useful, but now… Now… Just stinking dead weight again, dragging behind the others, not…"

"-You know that's not true, right?"

"Yeah… Right…"

"Well, guess I'm dead weight too here, I…" He was cut off by a light punch to his arm. "Oh dear, I'm going to have to report that fox abuse to my bunny. She won't be very happy."

"I can deal with that."

Nick looked on, thinking for a second or too. "She'll probably make you go to bed early, no dinner."

Her head snapped to him before she glanced away again. "Sure. Whatever."

"Yeah, whatever. You've already proved yourself many times over."

"…Thanks."

"My apologies. Should I be a brave fox and throw out all subtext?"

"I'm fine but… -Thanks," she said, looking back as her ears lowered a little. "Me just being stupid, that's all."

He raised an eyebrow.

Skye rolled her eyes. "In the this moment right now sense. You happy now?"

"Nah," he shrugged. "I'll save that for when we're all under heavy fire and I hear you regretting all your life choices leading up to this."

She managed a small smile. "Only when you're lamenting the dizzy happy go lucky times of the right here and now. Giving me therapy, being buddy buddy with Dave…"

"Hey," Nick smiled. "What's wrong with Dave, Dave's great! Jerkass brother though. Still, I'm looking forward to being able to look back at this great friendship with one giant foxy grin on my face."

Skye rolled her eyes, about to speak, only for Nick to cut her off. "And anyway, I'm certain that the forces paratrooping in will be very pleased to know where the stealth drone is and to have us ready to drop a few spicy potatoes on it before a fleeing rat can use it to make his escape."

"I…" Skye began nodding, ears up, only to be cut off as Tigress poked her head in.

"-Movement!"

They all raced back, huddling around the computer screen, the grainy images playing out. None of the mammals were Rattigan's, all of them mercenaries. They too were huddled around their screens, talking, making motions… All while bickering with a small grey-brown figure.

"Is that…" Skye said, glancing at Nick.

"The pixelated visage of him, I presume…"

He was arguing, pointing downhill, a few of the mammals starting to move. -Only for a mammal with a communicator to wave them off, Rattigan walking over, leaning in. Even through the grainy images, they could see him hunch over, quivering with excitement, a smile on his face…

Before he jolted with shock, confusion, jumping up and down and pounding his feet, yelling at the others… -Presumably to do something. -As they very much did, albeit not what he wanted. They took up defensive positions, hunkered down, covered up their tracks with camouflage…

Skye and the others looked on, the vixen turning to Murray, asking if he would get a sat-phone link up with Bentley. Explain the details, get him to give his advice.

After all, she had no stinking clue what was going on. -They couldn't have found it, it was in this cave, their detectors had picked it up… She turned to what documents they had. Historical, excerpts from the Thievious Raccoonus, comparative ones from Dr Silverfox's studies, Geological maps, past studies on other caves and…

-She froze, a horrible feeling coming over her as she raced to their communication array and desperately tried to get back in contact with the exploration team.

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Judy made her way up the rope first, then Jack, the hare still giving a glance out into the dark blackness, nose twitching. "Lead the way," Carmelita said, following behind the army fox, the two bunnies in tow. The further tunnel was steep, slick but manageable, their lights glistening off in front of them as they weaved through the stalaci along their path. As if feeling the time pressure on her, Lt Vixen picked up the pace, weaving through the calcite teeth and digging her boots into the divots on the dripping pink stained floor. The others followed along quickly, Judy and Carm pulling to the side as the red fox scrabbled up a scree fall, the small stones rattling and echoing like an orchestra through the confined space.

Thankfully the impressions of the rock below were uncovered and the two fairly easily made their way up, weaving around what obstacles there were, the interpol cop taking a glance at her watch as she went. They turned the corner just as a bright light cast out, all of them closing their eyes and reaching for phasing glasses if they had them, slowly blinking to reveal what lay beyond.

At first, Judy thought it would be some Clockwerk shrine or something horrible or sinister. Instead, she saw a wall.

A small wall, just higher than her, the top edge long curved and smoothed yet dry. Instead, the faint trickle of water came from water bubbling through a small gap beneath it, a hole between the base of the wall and the sandy riverbed.

It was only as Judy adjusted her position, looking past, that she saw what was beyond. No ornamentation, no decorations, no evil or horrors or anything. Just a large sandy expanse, spread out like a saucer, the off white finger reaching down here or trickle of water pouring in there.

"End of the line," Carm said, glancing at the other vixen. "And…"

"You're facing an invading army," she said. "Your most sacred icon is at the front of your domain, right for the picking when they eventually win. You have to remove it, dispose of it, hide it or whatever. But in a place they won't find, but you can. Or rather, someone with only the vaguest of descriptions can. Something that a bat might understand with just one sentence, one order." She smiled, crossing her paws. "At the bottom of the water supply."

"Water su…" Judy began, before clicking her fingers. "This used to be a pool. Away from all the guano or anything. Clean water, bats would fly in, skim off a drink, then fly out."

"And when the invasion came a high priest or whatever knew that this place, far at the back, across the river and through a tight cave with no guano to mine would be perfect," Carm carried on, peering across the sandy surface. "Drop it in, let it settle to the bottom, why would they even look? -I can't even see it now."

"Buried under sediment," Lt Vixen said, jumping over and shining her torch across, looking for a glint. "It could be a few millimetres below and we wouldn't be able to tell. That or washed out somewhere on the channel."

"Well we can keep our eyes peeled on the way back," Carmelita said, checking her watch and smiling. "Fifteen minutes up, well done, though I'm pretty sure we'd be coming down with metal detectors anyway."

"Call it a draw," the army fox said. "But we know where it is, and next time…" She trailed off, her face tilting for a second before a look of horror began growing on her face.

"Is anything…" Carm began.

"Please tell me Agent Savage is just resting somewhere?"

Carmelita looked to Judy, Judy to Carmelita, both to Lt Vixen and all looked around, Jack Savage nowhere to be seen.

Chapter Text

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The three mammals looked on as the officers pulled off the heavy tarpaulins one by one, the plastic slipping off to reveal the bulky figures of the diggers held below. Oates, looking across the impound lot, turned to the workers present. "How long did it take for these to get here?"

"About a few days after…" The deer left the rest unsaid as he checked over it.

"-Taken on the back of a truck, crane?" the horse carried on.

"Back of a truck, though moved on and off under their own power."

"-Right then," the horse said, looking on. "These look like museum pieces or something."

"Certainly so…" Basil mused, resting on his shoulder. Indeed, all three of them stood out amongst the other vehicles present. The yellow paint on their sides and top was a degree or so paler and more sickly than any other paint, flecks of rust across them not helping. The back of each stuck out, a flat mini-trailer like structure above the engine, a single browned exhaust stack rising out.

Oates walked forward to the first one, pushing down on the door handle and then pulling open the thin sheet metal door with a loud squeak. The mice looked into the interior. -Unaltered in this case, apart from some standard foot pedals for small mammal controls.

"-We did find out what type the one over there was," one of the impound lot workers said. "Tanukeuchi compact, seventies built we think…"

"And by the looks of it these are all the same age," Dave said, looking on as Oates pulled down the small mammal flip-down seat, glancing from it to the web of hydraulic controls and joystick within arms reach.

"Any idea what type these are?" Basil asked.

"Couldn't say."

"How did you know what type that one was," he questioned.

"There was a bit they missed spray painting over."

"Right, right," Basil said, glancing up. He walked over to the lip of the doorway, scratching at some of the yellow paint, an eyebrow rising. "Can we check the engine?"

"Sure," the deer said, walking over. Oates leant out, carrying the mice with them as he walked over.

"And once you've done that, can you go to our car and pick out the blacklight?"

The stag turned, glancing to him. "Blacklight?"

"Yes, yes, it looks like a torch with an ultraviolet…"

"I know what one is, we have one of our own in storage," he said, heaving the hatch open and locking it in place with the support stick. As he walked off, the three detectives peered into the engine.

"Restoration job?" the horse asked.

"No, no," Basil waved off, peering in. The engine looked far cleaner than the rest of the vehicle, though still flaked with rust here and there. "See there, there, there…" He pointed down to a set of supports down below. A grid of metal was welded and bolted onto the frame. "Complete engine replacement."

He glanced over at the small mini-excavator that the deer had ID'd, Oates taking the cue and walking over. Once again, it was a faded yellow, rust flecks on the arms and subframe while the plasticky cabin was relatively unscathed. Looking inside, Basil peered in at the digger controls, the joystick and the pedals. In each case a fit-on kit had been supplied, bolted over them and leading up via wires to a small control panel on the dash. The detective mouse jumped off and scurried up to it, examining it closely before taking a knife to one of the boxes on top. He began working it in, Dave coming over to give him a paw as the deer returned back.

"Want me to shine in or…"

"No," Basil said, pushing in harder and beginning to use his weight to slide it around. "Shine it on the outside of all three if it'll make you happy, they'll all glow up."

There was a brief flash from the light, the deer turning back.

"I… -Do I want to know what happened to these things!?"

"You said it yourself," Basil shrugged. "This paint was all sprayed on. Hence why you couldn't locate the branding names and likely any ID or anything that hasn't been grinded off."

"I… Yeah… Makes sense that rat would do it. Hide who he got them from or something."

"In which case," Oates said, "He's been playing the long, long game."

"I…" the deer began as the mouse shook his head.

"Dear dear…"

"-Excuse me!?"

"Oh do think it through," Basil carried on.

There was a brief silence before Dave filled in. "These things were sprayed up with paint, right?"

"Yes…"

"Paint that's now falling off with the rust."

"Yes, I… -Well it's old paint then."

"Which leads to two possibilities," Basil explained, smiling as he heard a click, the mouse and his partner moving the knife along. "-One, which wasn't too unreasonable, he got this digger and everything long ago. Back in his heyday. Kept in storage somewhere for whenever he might need them. Makes sense, but there's another answer that makes a lot more sense."

"Which is?" the deer asked, Oates turning to him.

"-You only deal with stuff from Sahara Square, don't you?"

"-Not always."

"No," Basil said, "but certainly not heavy equipment from other districts, especially the nocturnal district. -There are, in case you didn't know, major regulations around the light emissions in that area. Now, in most cases, that's fine. -Unless you're a builder doing stuff with a lot of heavy machines moving about, and a lot of contractors from the surface with poor night vision, and you'd usually light up what you're doing with very bright floodlights at night, except there you can't."

It took a second or two for the deer to clock it. "So the nocturnal district paints stuff like this in fluorescent paint, you floodlight things with a blacklight, that way you keep everyone safe."

"Well," Basil said, forcing the knife in again with a grunt before turning to Oates, waving him in. "You used to, until safety goggles became standard and night vision cheap and easy enough to be rolled into them. Combine that with safety LED's, a few pigs and an idiotic melanoma scare there… -It's a solution quite redundant now."

The horse pushed down on the knife, the plastic casing coming up to reveal a bright, clean circuit board, Basil looking down and examining the various chips. "-As I suspected, this was a new addition." He looked up at the deer. "Now there were things like this available back then, and were Rattigan using this for his own works he could have easily installed one then. Instead, he installed this in the time of his return, likely doing some work of his own or so forth, before leading the charge against the Fox Family."

Oates nodding, turning to him. "Get the lab boys to see if they can ID that, narrow down any suppliers or such."

"And for that matter," Basil continued, scurrying out. "Takes soil and dirt samples across the diggers. Inside the treads, under the bucket teeth, inside the joints. Cross reference them against other samples we have. He'll have been using this for works around his own base, we cross ID the rock types, we might be able to find where exactly he is."

They jumped out, the deer carrying along before pausing. "-Wait, one more thing?"

"Yes?" Basil asked.

"You wanted the blacklight before you saw that thing, right?"

"Yes," Basil said, a slight smile appearing on his face.

"So how did it being a nocturnal district piece make more sense than him buying it and modifying it later…"

"Go over to our first one, shall we?" That they did, Basil jumping down onto the steel engine-top, picking at a fleck of paint, a brown-red streak underneath.

"Rust."

"I… It's old," the deer began.

"Yes, yes, but the oxidisation of steel requires water in some form to catalyse it…"

"So it was left out in the rain, or…"

"In which case," Basil said, smiling. "Why isn't this handy little basin here an absolute ruin?" He jumped up and down, smiling as he walked over to the exposed and rust streaked exhaust pipe. "Rain and drizzle would run off that thing in seconds, dry off in an hour or so, while where I'm standing you might have pooling water for days. Instead, this has no more rust than the jib, or sheltered areas. -Ergo the moisture did not come from the rain."

"So it was under cover or…"

"-Which would usually prevent anywhere like this amount of rusting, unless you were in a relatively high moisture environment," Basil said.

"-Such as the nocturnal district," the deer followed on.

"Exactly!"

"Or what about the docks? Or the rainforest?"

The mouse rolled his eyes. "Then why repaint it with fluorescent paint…"

"-You didn't know it was fluorescent paint back then."

"I suspected as much."

"-How, some lucky guess, some knowledge about the types of paints used or how rust streaked or something."

"No, something quite simpler," he waved off. "Muridae conic pigments tuned to three-hundred and fifty to three-hundred and sixty nanometre wavelengths."

"I… -You could see it?"

"-I could see somewhat of a bluish glowing tint," Basil waved off, "Especially when restricting the light somewhat in a shadow, though the UV light doesn't reflect nearly as much so it is a tricky thing. Very faint but it raised my suspicions."

"Then why the light?"

"Well, box ticking is box ticking, is it not?" the detective shrugged.

The deer just sighed, walking over to cover the equipment up again, all as the others walked off.

"And here I was thinking we'd ruled out a nocturnal district base," Oates said, chuckling.

"Just put it down as highly unlikely due to logistical reasons," Dave said. "Reasons that might be somewhat null and void if he was using such things to create new escape tunnels."

"Or," Basil said, "simply purchased or found them there and moved them to wherever he needed to go next. -At the least, our soil analysis should show where he was doing his works."

"Well, whatever they are, he's likely done with them at this point," Oates said, gesturing back at the machines.

"Well, maybe not done with 'them', but certainly 'those'," the mouse corrected, frowning. He shook his head. "Hmmmmm, we'll need to check through the records of abandoned sites in the nocturnal district, though for all I know Rattigan was not the first to 'acquire' these things. They might have been used, or were being used, for something quite illegal even before he acquired them."

"Or were just stuck up on Preyedlist," Oates said.

"One supposes… But, whatever their origin, we know what they're ultimate use likely was," the mouse continued. "Carmelita's supplied information shows that Rattigan's ultimate goal so to speak is quite large. And he needs the space to do what he wants to do to to get it."

"And both secure enough to keep it in, and large enough for him to get out in the end," Dave added.

"Yes, yes… -Could you ask for a double check for how large the various exits and entrances to the nocturnal district are? Major vent shafts, road tunnels, the big incline lifts. -Because I might find my previous assumptions on that side are quite, quite moot."

"Can do," Oates said, "Though don't they still have operating blast doors and such? Those things were designed to shrug off a nuke or two."

"Yes, and the caverns are far too large to keep a rampaging Clockwerk restrained for any sort of delicate work," Basil said, nodding along. "But that doesn't mean he couldn't have a chamber of sorts inside there, or that clawing and ripping your way out is anywhere near as hard as blasting your way in."

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"JACK! JACK!?"

His name echoed down the tunnel, rebounding back in ever quieter waves until the whole thing was swallowed into nothing.

Judy trembled, paws going down to her hip, reaching down a few times before rising back up, a climbing hook in paw, raised up.

Carmelita, seeing her, joined the bunny, shock pistol raised. All as Lt Vixen quietly pulled up to the interpol cop, whispering very quietly into her. "Tell me, in your adventures past, when you saw ghosts, did you recognise anyone?"

The vixen looked back, shaking her head.

"Did you recognise what species they were…"

Another shake.

"Any familiar scents?"

Carmelita shook her head before speaking. "So, you don't smell a ghost."

"I fear I do," she said, letting her voice rise a little. "Just not your kind." She took a breath in, paws trembling. "All of you, keep close. Backs to each other. Don't let what happened to Jack happen to you."

They slowly walked next to each other and began making their way down, slow paw step after slow pawstep, Carmelita moving the two melee wielding partners in front of her as she held her shock pistol up and tight.

Their lights glanced down in front of them, fingering out the tunnel, looking for any nooks, crannies, ways that the enemy could have snuck in and taken one of them out.

"When did they… -How did they," Judy hissed, stumbling a little, a small fall of pebbles rattling out below her. She raised up a paw, the mammals freezing as she raised up her eyes, scanning about.

A second later they pivoted to the side, her light flashing into a set of alcoves they hadn't spotted before. Empty.

She let it scan the other way, trying to hold her breath in and focus.

"Dim down the light," Carmelita whispered, narrowing her beam as she slung her torch under her pistol. Judy glanced up, disbelief etched on her face before she shook it off, doing the same. The glow of light around them, reflecting back at them, died down, instead only fingers of light remaining. Reaching out, flicking back and forth, the curves and blades of the cavern ever so faintly glowing to the bunny. The foxes kept a look-out as they carried on down, Carmelita sniffing on.

"Do you smell him?" Judy asked.

"Who exactly," Carmelita whispered back.

"...What do you smell?"

"Very, very faintly… I smell Jack. -And something not Jack. But close."

They pushed on down, slowly but surely, until freezing just as the ground fell away below them. Their torches, rising up, emptied into the vast blackness beyond, filled with the deep rumbling and constant dripping. Lt Vixen shifted to face behind them, scanning around before looking down, leaning onto the soil and giving it a small sniff.

"They dragged him out this way," she said quietly. "Best guess, they snuck up, pricked Jack's ankle with a needle or something as he passed a rock… -Thought he'd nipped himself and, a second or two later as he began to drift he was caught, gagged, slipped away, I…"

She froze as she saw the others, torches angled down. She raced over to the edge only to sigh with relief as she saw him not there, only to see their lines cut.

"Get a spare down," the army fox said as she began to dig into her bag, bringing out another of the large illuminating spotlights. Carmelita began to tie her line off as Judy looked around, ears scanning one after the other.

"You certain Jack was dragged back this way?" she asked quietly.

"Certain. What else could have happened?"

"Bottomless pit?"

"I don't remember one, I…"

"-Why take him," she hissed, lighting her torch out further and fruitlessly probing the void beyond. "Why not just gun us down, why…"

"I'd assume to mess with us," the vixen grunted, bringing out one of the larger flood lights and moving it towards the edge.

"I… -Why not shoot us all down," Judy hissed, "They'd have gunned into the top, killing…" Her voice hitched as Carmelita walked over, paw out just a little. She and Lt Vixen's eyes met, the Interpol fox giving a quick wink.

"I can't say for certain, all I know is he's out there…" She gestured into the void, winking again, before she grabbed the heavy beam and quietly twisted it around to behind them. "And we're going to get him."

She turned it on, the beam blasting behind them as they all turned, eyes wincing at the screaming white light reflecting back and vanishing around the corner, glistening, a small twitch…

-Carmelita fired, a blast of electricity then another racing out, one side each of a glistening white pillar off to the side… The first curving behind just as a figure darted out, fleet footed and silent as it escaped before the second hit.

"Halt!" the cop yelled, gesturing down to Judy to pick it up and race forward, focussing the beam into a narrow line, the other two racing on behind her. Carmelita turned to Lt Vixen, gesturing her to keep covered by the walls but the army fox was already there, shimmied up behind a ridge of rock and holding a rock-pick and hammer tight in each paw.

"There's no way out!" Judy screamed, pushing herself down onto the cold wet slick rocks, pushing down into the gravel and behind some stones, light still raised above her. "That was clever, but you can't escape us."

And then a voice laughed. "I've escaped worse! Far worse…"

"Indeed you have," Lt Vixen said, as she followed on. "So tell me, partner, what happened to you?" The other two froze, looking up at her in disbelief. "I can't remember if you know the story," she grunted at Carmelita, before looking at Judy. "But from what I gather you may have learnt enough about my time in the rangers to know who that mammal is. Isn't that right, Brighteyes?"

She pushed forward to the next bit of shelter, next to a narrowing of the tunnel before a bend. The others darted towards it too before a sharp blast echoed out, Lt Vixen's eyes wide as she leapt over to shove Carmelita against the far wall, a falling stalactite crashing down between them a moment later. The interpol vixen fired off another shock pistol shot in the vague direction as shadows danced.

"Oh that is an old name. Very inaccurate now!"

"I should have figured that," the army vixen spoke, the group advancing on, taking the narrow pass and slipping forward into the tunnel as it widened once more. "Taken off by an eagle, the only trace left of you an eye? I suppose you'd look quite dashing with an eyepatch. A few scars."

"Oh plenty there," he spoke. "Any new ones your end?"

"Surely you know better. Given how long you've been tailing us, tracking us?"

She just got a chuckle back.

"Let me guess," she said. "You crawled in the front. Hugging the walls, past our allies, sneaking down behind us. Following us along… -Sabotaging our relays?"

She got silence back.

"Except… Except that wouldn't explain why you'd out yourself by knocking out Jack. You could have snuck in here, hid yourself away, searched around for it as we were gone and wait for us to move in for the second search, racing up after us and sneaking out." She paused, smiling. "I wouldn't even care to turn on my detector, I'd just know it was here and we'd dig and dig until we confused ourselves while you'd get off scot free. -You want this, don't you? You want to toy with us, with me, for replacing you, right?"

She got no more than a hearty chuckle back, followed by another shot over their heads. Judy winced further into the sandy ground as Carmelita fired another pair of shots, the interpol fox speaking out.

"I'll take that a yes," she hissed.

"You can't really blame me," Lt Vixen hissed. "Thinking you were dead. Grieving with your training partner. She has a family, you know. A family that Rattigan has forced into hiding. Hmmmm, why do you fight for him."

"Why do you fight," he spoke back. "This, the rangers, be honest."

"So I'm right," she smirked, slipping on. A quick look to Judy, the bunny crawling up through the muddy sand, the stream flowing down around her mouth and under her soaked and stained arms. The bunny's ears twitched back and forth, her light moving ever so slightly to follow it. A single glint moved off in the far distance, just beyond the edge of the beam. "You are enjoying this." Another chuckle rang out.

"Do you know what he's trying to do?" Carmelita asked. "With this, here?"

"Do you know what it's like to meet death itself? To dance with him, on the edge, to parlay with the black rabbit and come back. I lost my fear of him there."

"You lost your mind," Carmelita said.

"Maybe, maybe. I died that day, but was reborn. A child of war, of fire, dancing with death, against him, and when Rattigan comes along, wishing to raise Kehaar himself? To give me a chance at taking the bastard one on one?" He gave a laugh, revealing himself from behind a pillar.

A hare. Brown, tall, thickly built, a scarred and ruined eye on one side and torn, scarred fur across him. He smiled, paws open and out. Carmelita fired a shot and with a laugh he raced off as she turned to Lt Vixen. "That a good enough explanation?"

"Oh not quite," Lt Vixen said. "Chaos for chaos sakes? I'm sorry for you, how far you've fallen." She grit her teeth. "What happened to the little mammal who stood up for bullied kits? How would he look at you as you burn and rampage across the land you once defended."

"He'd shiver in disgust and fear," he said. "At the might of The General I've become."

"Cut this crap…" Judy growled, emerging from the muck and marching forward. "Where's Jack!?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," he smirked, darting from one pillar to another so fast Carmelita didn't even bother firing a shot.

"And there's the rub," Lt Vixen smirked. "The great General… Woundwort I assume? I can't think of a more fitting name for you to take on than that, that mammal of your people in times past. Your great strategy. You want us to trade our equipment for information on where he is."

"Oh that would be agreeable."

"Not quite. I'm pretty certain you originally wanted us searching pointlessly out in the void while you dug and dug. You wanted us racing up to the top, thinking something had happened to our allies there. You were hoping we might drop and stash our equipment to give us a time advantage. Quite the miscalculation, wasn't it?"

"Unless," he pondered from the black. "I wanted to see how you'd react?"

The trio moved on, eyes glancing around.

"There's one little thing you don't seem to have realised," he spoke. "I have a gun."

"So do I," Carmelita said, shock pistol out.

"You'll run out of charge."

"You'll run out of bullets."

"I only need three," he said, a shot ringing out. The mammals flinched as a spark flashed off the top pebble on a stack next to them, the rock tipping and tumbling down. They pulled in closer to their meagre cover, chests rising and falling as they tucked themselves in like wolves trying to fit in fox sized beds. "How many do you need?"

"And would you really shoot your dear sister in arms," Lt Vixen spoke. "My little partner or this brave General, is that really befitting you?"

"Do you really want to question what the great Woundwort would do?"

"-You know," Judy spoke, hissing as she edged to the side, cutting off an area where the tunnel widened. "I don't know what's worse, calling yourself 'Great' or 'The'."

She earned a laugh back. "I can shoot you all in the knee, leave you crawling, your friends not even knowing what went on."

"They'll figure it out," Carmelita growled. "Besides, you still need us, and knowing what you're trying to do we're not going to talk, we're not going to give in. Do you really think you can work on the equipment yourself?"

Carmelita fired a shot, the trio racing on under its cover, slinking into their next positions as rattling came up from above, the odd stone bouncing its way down.

"All this bluff," Carmelita smiled. "You knew we were onto you when going up. You knew that coming down we'd see an inevitable pawprint, sniff an unavoidable sniff, see a mark or divot or something."

"See water where we knew it didn't belong," Lt Vixen said. "-That's how you got in, isn't it. The caves are connected. You crawled in alongside the river, arriving here as we crossed it, dripping wet and holding yourself to the shadows. Far more wet than the drier areas down below. You could move silently, but you couldn't avoid making a mark, a mark we'd see and immediately work out. So, play into it. Have us barking up the wrong tree, looking in the wrong place, panicking while you played us like a fiddle. Hmmmm…"

"You really should have stayed quiet," he spoke, smiling. "I could hear it. The tip of your tongue…" -He darted out of position, racing up to the next hideaway, Carmelita holding her shock pistol out and ready but avoiding a shot. The tunnel was narrower, steeper, curvier, Carmelita's weapon all the more dangerous for him as they approached the top. Less of a need for cover hopping, they just kept marching on, Judy taking the outside flank with Carmelita and focussing their light on where he always just was.

"Good think we were loud then," Carmelita growled.

"Rattigan was right, you know," he mused, taking another prance up. "All his records, all the information he gathered. The upper cave was the holiest. Part of why it was attacked first. The mammals inside thought the invaders would come in, burn them out, and so they sought to hide their relic. Hid it where they truly thought the invaders would never search, would never even know was connected, flying through the tunnels and out into this place. Away from the shrines, the altars, the piles of sacrifice. They're quite magnificent. Keehar, his terrible visage, just wanting to be blasted apart!"

"Funny talk for someone who wants to bring him back," Carmelita snarked.

"Only to send him back away personally," he laughed. "To hurt him myself."

"And do you know who I am? What I did to him, at Krakarov?"

There was a pause before he smiled. "Then you'll know how brilliant it was, and that you can't just hog that glory for yourself, can you?"

"Then why not face me," Carmelita spoke. "Paw to paw! Mammal against mammal. I'm greater than Clockwerk ever was."

He laughed. "What do you think I'm doing now? -You get it now, don't you? Aside from those silly rationalizations."

""What do I think you're doing now?" Carmelita smiled. "Putting on the best poker face you can manage as you fall back, on the wrong side of everything. Hoping there's a way you can slip out up there, or you can get past us. Am I right?"

"Rattigan and his forces know your mammals are up at the top," he spoke, making another darting retreat. "I just told them, they might be planning a full on attack right now. What do you value more, your friends' lives or denying my satisfaction."

"Our mammals know he is," Lt Vixen smirked.

"And you're a fool if you think your 'satisfaction' will be anything like that," Carmelita added.

"DON'T tell me what I want," he growled, as the trio emerged up into the drained water pool at the very top. Judy adjusted the light, spreading the beam out to illuminate the basin once more.

Nothing more than a small crack or crevice here or there along the sides, maybe a cubby in the roof he could hide himself in, or behind one of the small pillars around the edge. Carmelita stared out for him, eyes glancing down on the silty surface to look for any pawprints. She saw a new pair, bounding out partway into the centre only to vanish, her eyes narrowing as she pivoted to her right and fired a set of shots along the wall next to her. The charges flew forwards, sizzling against the walls before colliding, no purchase or target found.

Either way, clear, she slipped along it, gesturing at Lt Vixen and Judy to move the other way. Both of them dual wielding melee weapons, the bunny left the light where it was as they pushed on, checking the walls, narrowing down where he could hide.

They didn't speak out any words or taunts, just like he didn't parry out or try and get a rise. Eyes darting, ears up and scanning, breath held, muscles tense, bodies against walls and behind cover…

Judy's ears pivoted as she heard a slight rattle, eyes turning along with Carmelita's and Lt Vixen's towards the centre of the chamber, just as a scream of white light erupted. They flinched back, Judy yelling as the screeching bang hit her ears, echoing around and around the chamber, never stopping. Her vision blurry, a shot rang out, Carmelita yelling as the sound of rocks falling echoed around. The bunny managed to glance over to where it was, white spots and fuzzy static the only thing she earned for herself as another gunshot pierced the air, slamming straight into the spotlight and plunging them into darkness.

And then she made out the running, soft paws against silt, the oncoming rush of something sloughing through the sand at speed and… -She swung her melee weapons wildly, hitting something a second before a paw slammed into her face, sending her down hard. Heart racing, limbs kicking and pushing faster than the ground itself could meet, she scrabbled back, ears up just as she heard something coming and made her best swing, Lt Vixen yelling out before two large legs toppled over her, sweeping up into a combat roll as Judy heard something else race up.

This time she swung true and felt herself hit something, a male growl and yelling coming out, following by a swing and a cutting slice against one of her arms. Yelling, Judy growled and brought her hammer down, hitting something…

-Just as an electric spark and fizz rang out, a shock pistol shot cutting into the middle of the room, far away from them but enough to light up the blood soaked wildly grinny face in front of her. Covered in muck, ruined eye covered by a patch and feral fur ablaze, his good eye snapped to her and he dove forward with a knife as Judy kicked off, doing her best to swing herself around and bring a rock-pick to his skull. He saw it and leapt back just as the shock pistol shot fizzled into the ceiling, before another one lit up the chamber.

Standing up, shaking, cold and hot liquid dripping around her, Judy glanced on, seeing a dark figure whip around, this way, that, Lt Vixen racing right by her. She had a new torch out and was trying to follow him only for him to duck, weave, turn, a swift evading a falcon.

Carmelita began firing more shots, left then right, closer to the surface, Lt Vixen narrowing in her beam as she followed the shadows in the wider light. Weapons ready, Judy began to race forward, only to pause as she saw Carmelita turn, shaking her head and making paw gestures. Hard to figure out, though…

Judy gave a point at her, her shock pistol, pointing at herself and nodding furiously. Carmelita gave a solid nod in return as Judy twirled her weapons in her paws and began racing forward. A quick glance behind, Lt Vixen had moved to cover the way out, and she and Carm pushed forward towards Woundwort's ever shrinking domain. Shock pistol firing left, right, left, right, sweeping in, gliding across and hitting the wall, two electric fences to keep the hare bound, both of them narrowing down. Judy watched and waited for a gap to push through.

Seeing Carm take a regular shot but at a wider angle she began running in front of it, angling herself to curve in around ahead and thread the needle, to face Woundwort one on one. Pulling around as her legs spun out in the soft surface, she regained her footing and pushed forward to weave between the main line and the outlier, so close to it her fur began to stick up and…

-With a bang it vanished, a white wick of lightning snapping into and out of existence in a moment as it poured itself down into the ground, the crack echoing around the chamber and ending in silence.

Judy's body froze and locked up, her limbs trembling.

Even as the other shocks sailed close behind her, nipping and fizzing.

The room was silent.

Seven eyes focussed down on the pond floor where the charge had been sucked down.

-And then Judy dived, racing down, digging with her front paws where the sand was still warm, heaving soil out of the ground only for a scream and a yell to pull her face up. She saw Woundwort racing at her, mouth open as if to tear out her jugular, screaming even before the first shock pistol shock raced over him and peppered his back. Judy brought a fist out and jumped as he slammed into her chest, sending them both flying back, screaming.

Judy felt herself twitch and yell as the shock he'd carried hit her, fighting to regain control of her arms, pushing one up into what she realised was his mouth, wincing as he bit down. Paw out she grabbed her dropped rock pick, swinging it around fast so the handle clocked against his head. Pull it down, push it back up into his gaping maw, their feet kicking and pummelling each other before he leapt off, Judy turning to race after him only to scream in pain as she felt her body get lit on fire.

Carmelita swore as she swore the convulsing bunny but didn't give up. Racing after the fleeing hare, firing this way, that way, he spun around, faster and faster, before jumping up, paws wide. Carmelita fired, only for him to duck out of the way, the shot racing straight towards Lt Vixen.

She pulled herself back down under the cut away weir, letting it sail over her, Woundwort racing overhead straight after as if he wanted to catch up with it. The army fox swung her melee weapons as best she could but it was too late, nothing was left of him but the rattle of sand and stones as he belted down the tunnel.

She just panted, breathing in and out, sinking to her knees silent for a second before letting out a growl, starting to pound the rock wall half a dozen times before finishing it with one final crescendo.

A bitter exhale and she slumped, keeping an eye on the tunnel before glancing back. "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," Carmelita said, as she moved Judy into the recovery position, the bunny blinking slowly. "Stay calm," she said, torch placed down next to her. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Groaning, Judy blinked a few times before answering. "T-three…"

"And your accent seems fine."

"Huh? -I… I'm sorry," She muttered, trying to sit up only for Carmelita to hold her steady. "Should have fo… focussed on…"

"No, we all realised what it was," the interpol fox said, looking over to Lt Vixen. The army fox was up next to them, digging down at the small hole before reaching in with a clear plastic bag. Over her paw, she reached down, slowly pulling something out and bagging it up tight. Lit up in the glint of the torch, they all looked at the coppery talisman as the army fox stuck it in her inside jacket.

"We got what we came for. Now get up and run." She was already up and turning. "It's only a hope, but we might catch him before we see the real reason this General Woundwort took Jack out."

Chapter Text

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Apologies for the minor delay.

.

Adjusting the brow of her hat, Sarrahson let the shadow grow across her eyes, shielding her from the glare of the sun reflecting off the towers. It helped, just a little, though it was still a struggle to look down at her phone. Scrolling past missed and ignored phone calls from so called family, paw pad hovering over the contact she was waiting for and pressing it. Up to her ear, she waited a few seconds before the voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Agent Sarrahson here," the serval spoke, glancing up. Her eyes focussed on the mammals out in the park in front of her, a pair of wolves, a sheep… A Bellwether… -Oh, she knew her secret, all the more proof that other mammals would ignore. And, last but not least, the vixen in question. Small thing, pale furred, freckled like a little deer. All the more innocent, all the better for tricking those who didn't know better. "I've located the mammal in question, I've got the tracker done and ready. I just need to wait…"

"Uh-hu, are you sure you're ready for this?"

"Oh, I was born for this," she said, looking on. Seeing the vixen in question take in a few cards from the others, getting ready. -Oh, this was perfect, perfect. She reached into her bag, pulling out a few different potential items. A broach to hustle onto her, in case she was visiting in-mammal. That had been her first plan. But now, looking on, she pulled out a wrapped up envelope, marked with the words 'To Kris'. It had been fairly easy looking at the school records to find the names of some of his teachers, and a letter like that from them… -Especially after being guilted as such into thinking they had acted incorrectly, would not be unexpected.

"Very well, it's all counting on you," the voice said, Sarrahson nodding along.

Taking a breath in, an eye on the fox, the feline got everything into her small crossbody bag, paw resting over a small button held tight and began jogging. Right then, right there, she was nothing out of the ordinary. A normal park user taking a normal exercise routine around the park.

Time began to tick by as she watched. Going around, coming back, waiting… Waiting… -She soon had to pause, leaning against a tree to catch her breath, eyes on the far away figures as they slowly began to split up. -To her chagrin, the small vixen was walking in the other direction so she had to breath in and put on a burst of speed as she pushed on.

It didn't take her long to pass some of her friends but as she turned around the corner she saw the vixen getting ever closer to the exit. She grit her teeth, pushing down faster, harder, keeping control of the stitch starting to crawl up one side of her. -Now of all days!? -This was something heroes in the movies never had to face. Either way, she was going to make it, coming up on her, one paw down to unzip the bag and the other reaching to touch the button just as she passed…

-Her phone rang out loud and clear, the vixen in front turning to look just in time to see a distracted serval trying to fish around in her bag look up and see she'd veered straight onto a collision course. Agnes jumped to the side in shock as the jogger leapt like a coiled spring away in surprise, failing to stick the landing and coming down on three paws… Bag spilling out in front of her.

"Sorry!" Agnes cried, "are you okay."

"-Sorry, sorry," the serval responded, shaking her head as she got up, brushing herself down before looking at her phone and growling. "-I don't believe it," she groaned, facepawing. "Stupid stinkin' spam caller, now of…" She slumped to her knees, facepawing.

"Hey, hey," Agnes said, ears folding back. "As… As long as you're okay." She turned to see a few of the items strewn across the ground, beginning to pick them up.

"No I…" the serval sniffed. "I was thinking it was the hospital, about my husband, I…" She huffed out again, Agnes turning to look at her.

"Is he…"

The serval looked over at her with quivering eyes. "He's… -He's supposed to be on the mend but it's so touch and go, I…"

"I'm sorry," Agnes began, helping her up.

"No, no," She sighed, "I… -I know he's going to be okay, I wouldn't be out here running, if…" She let out a huff. "What sort of a wife would I be?"

Agnes nodded, looking down a little.

"Well," the serval said, "not like I can hold myself highly, can I…"

The vixen looked up at her. "Hey… Don't say that…"

"You…" The feline shook her head. "I wasn't the best girlfriend for him," she sniffed, wiping her eyes. "-I mean, finding him less attractive… repulsive as his fur began to fall out, telling myself it was wrong but…"

"Hey, you… You found strength," Agnes said, smiling. "You married him, didn't you?"

She looked up, managing a smile. "Well… If you're not sure he's going to…" She shook her head. "Here I am, using you as a personal therapist or something."

"No… no… Just glad to help," the vixen said, ears going down. "Not like…" She trailed off.

The serval gave a soft look. "Boy trouble?"

"I…"

"Hey, if I can repay you for this," she said, the vixen at first unsure before nodding.

"I… -My boyfriend was accused of some… Some really bad things. -He didn't do them, there was proof he didn't, but… -But… -You know how it can be," she said, ears going down as she quivered a little. "I… I panicked and, and I wasn't there for him."

"Are… Are you here for him now?" the felinet asked.

"I'm… I'm trying to be, I'm going to visit him tomorrow, but…"

"Well," she smiled. "Don't worry about it. Be brave, for him."

"I know, but…"

"Tell you what," she said, looking down and picking up a small broach. "This was never much to me, but… -But it might be for you. If you're scared, if you're not sure it'll work or… -Just remember, you met a mammal who was scared about saying her vows to her boyfriend as his life hung in the balance, who was scared about…." She closed her eyes. "So many things. But now? Well, if I didn't do that it'd be the biggest regret of my life."

"I… I can't," Agnes said, ears going down.

"Please," the serval chuckled. "I've got, like, three like it at home."

The fox's features softened and she accepted the gift, moving it up onto her dress.

"It suits you," the cat said, smiling.

"Yeah…"

"He'll like that."

Agnes looked up, grin growing, tail wagging a little. "T-thanks."

"You're welcome," the serval said, smiling. "And sorry, once again…"

"No, no, don't mention it…"

With that the serval turned and began jogging once more, turning the corner and pushing on a little before eventually finding a nice secluded area. Settling back, taking a breath out, she fistbumped. Plenty of time on her handlers end of tracking them, of hers on spying and checking out what was going on, and it had all come together. Phone up, she opened the Hare-Tag tracker app up and smiled as she saw the two dots moving off. The one she'd snuck into a bag while the mammal was distracted and the one the vixen had been duped into sticking on herself.

She dialed in, a massive grin on her face. "This is Agent Sarrahson. I've just nailed it."

.

.

.

.

The three figures cast their torches out, all of them settling on the brown hare standing back to the precipice. It hadn't taken long to reach them, but he'd been fast. He stood there smiling, cut rope held tight in his paws.

Wrists bound at his feet, front half dangling over the roaring underground river, was Jack. Eyes blinking, bruises over his face, unaware of what was going on.

"Don't you even dare," Judy growled.

Woundwort smiled. "Why would I not? We all know that I fear my death infinitely less than you fear his." He let Jack slip a little, the three mammals flinching before a paw up halted them. "Ah-ah, I wouldn't do that if I were you."

They stared off at each other before Carmelita finally spoke. "What do you want?"

"Take a wild guess."

"You understand why we can't give that to you?" the interpol fox spoke again. "How much death, destruction, it would cause."

"Statistics against tragedy," he smiled again, gesturing down before looking over at Lt Vixen. "Especially for her. You got him into this, didn't you?"

The army vixen snorted. "It seems you really did die that day."

"No, no, more than that," he smiled, looking down. "More than that. Far more."

A few seconds ticked by. Then a few more.

"I want him, I want it, whatever Rattigan plans for it screw him. He can claim this god for himself, he can fail, but I will have my satisfaction. I will fight him. Glorious victory or glorious death, I don't give a damn. Give it to me!"

He stepped back again, letting Jack slip further down. There was a slight murmur and groan, a twitch.

"Come on," he smiled, opening a paw. "Zap me. Send us falling down into the cascades. Bury your little treasure away from Rattigan forever."

"-And what if we give it to you," Lt Vixen said, Carmelita shooting her a stink eye. "What then?"

He smiled. "He gets to live. And you get to come with me."

She paused. "Do I now?"

"Oh yes, were it someone else here, I might let them pass. But you?" His features softened, ever so slightly. "I remember you, friendly, pragmatic, calm, collected… I have some respect for you. To offer to let you join me."

"And what if I don't want that?" she asked, frowning.

He shrugged, stepping back. There was a shift and rattle of gravel, one of Jack's legs starting to slide down until a foot paw stamped behind it held it still. "Getting very close."

"I come with you, back to your base, I smile, I play the part, you invite me in, I politely refuse."

"You make a useful hostage," he smirked, bowing. "I'm guessing your mammals have reinforcements on the way. -I wouldn't be surprised if bombs had fallen on where we were already, a shame really. I'd kill you right away then and race off into the jungle. But, for our way back, you would be useful."

"More useful than this," she said, a small black wrap of plastic in her paw.

Judy snapped to her. "NO!"

"Don't you dare!" Carmelita hissed, pulling her shock pistol around to face her.

"I'm willing to die for him," she spoke, looking down at Jack. She slowly stepped forward.

"Yes, yes," Woundwort smirked, gun out and pointing down at the hare.

Carmelita pulled her shock pistol up at him again, to the sound of tutting.

"Put that down," he said, pointing his gun forward. "I shoot you in the head, you die, I let him go, he dies, I can get one extra shot in, maybe even two."

"Then do it," Carmelita growled. Seconds passed. "You know the risks."

"I don't fear them. I'd just spend my last moments pissed that…"

"-Yadda, yadda, yadda," Carmelita growled, pushing forward. Judy did too, earning an eyebrow from the brown hare as he stepped back, half of Jack hanging over the roaring canyon. "I get it, I don't care."

"Let's see how much you do," he said. "In five seconds, if she hasn't dropped the zappy gun and kicked it away, and she…" He gestured to Lt Vixen. "Hasn't thrown me the soul of Kehaar and jumped down to that rock down there." He pointed to a lowered ledge upstream of him, a narrow scrabble route leading down into the mouth of the torrent. "We're going to see how good a shot I really am."

"Listen, if…"

"FIVE!"

"DON'T!"

"FOUR!"

Carmelita growled, throwing her gun to the side as she ducked behind a rock.

"THREE!"

Lt Vixen raced forward towards where she'd been ordered to, throwing the wrapped up talisman at Woundwort as Judy shot her and him a glare and raced back.

"TWO!"

Lt Vixen jumped down, sliding down in a cascade of scree as he caught the flying package and tore it open.

"ONE!"

He caught the coppery item inside and threw Jack back towards them, racing towards Lt Vixen with his gun.

"MOVE! MOVE!"

Paws up, she raced on as Carmelita shot out, picking up her shock pistol and darting over to the nearest vantage. She pointed it down, finger on the trigger, trembling as she saw the pair ankle deep in water, straining as they marched up against the current. Woundwort behind, he pointed his gun up at her, smiling and shaking his head as they slipped out of view. One last wave as they ducked under a small underhang of rock and they were gone.

The vixen growled. "That did not go as we planned!" She began pulling off her clothing, checking her shock pistol and re-arming, grabbing a rock-pick and holding it in her teeth as she…

-A blast ripped out from where the two had come from, rocks falling and a spray of water kicking up and over, closing off the route out.

The interpol fox screamed. Turning back, she looked over to see Judy tapping Jack, the hare mumbling a few times, eyes blinking. Carmelita raced over and slung him over his shoulder. "This is going to suck," she said, light forward as she began to push back towards the entrance.

"Not as much as it will for them," Judy countered. "What now?"

"We move on," Carmelita said, looking down, her features softening. "And however painful it is, remember what we were here for."

Judy gave a shaking nod before moving on.

.

.

The water dragged around her hip, the way on barely illuminated by the scant light from their torched. Not that it mattered much, finding the way up was four parts feel for every one part sight, or at least it seemed so. The route on twisted, turned, pulling up and around at sharp angles, the water boiling in most places as it cut around or jumped over boulders with the odd occasional pool of deceptive calm.

"I wouldn't try anything if I were you."

She glanced back rising an eyebrow at her former Ranger comrade behind her. He kept a good distance, gun always trained.

"I might slip, fall…" she shrugged.

"Get carried away and smashed against the rocks, pulped out, no. No…." He softly shook his head.

"I suppose you have something much more entertaining planned for me," she said, managing a smirk. Her tail rose into her paw, letting her fondle the tip just a bit. "You should have said back in the day."

He gave a sharp laugh, raising and eyebrow as she met it with a smirk.

"You haven't changed much," he finally mused.

"Makes a change," she shrugged, as he waved her on.

The water cut in a short waterfall to one side, requiring a scrabble up a rockfall on the other. She briefly looked over it, the plunge pool at the bottom, the speeding current at the top. Eyes darting around fast with what light she could, surveying for any small alcoves, caves, underhangs she could use…

Nothing stood out so up she went, managing to pocket a handy rock just as he came over, gun rising first. "Keep going."

"Of course," she smiled, managing to slip away the rock within her underwear, alongside a few other opportune little items she'd stashed. Some she hoped to use, some she hoped she didn't have to. "I must say, you must like being the one in charge. -Here, with your little terror army."

"It's a different life," he smiled. "One I've found to my liking."

"Indeed, going from defending little helpless villages and kits to massacring them. Guess you decided to play the other side."

"Ah, ah, not going to work," he said, shaking his head. "I understand now, just how small and meaningless they, you, we are…"

"Small. -Guess that is how they looked when you were carried away," Lt Vixen said, eyes focussing on the scarred ruin of that one eye.

A few seconds passed.

"-Did you see anyone, on that fateful last flight? Remember anything?"

"Pain," he smiled. "Terror. The will to fight as she planted me down in her nest, her babies chirping away, the cold fury of my adrenaline kicking in as that razor sharp beak came for me, dove into me and robbed me of…" He tapped along the thing.

"And then I kicked. I wrestled, I punched, I bit. Oh it was a battle, a battle for the ages, me and death embracing. Kill, be killed, feeling myself spool out as she tried to retreat in terror, realising her mistake, panicking for her babies sake. -Bird bones are very brittle, you know. I could have given her a quick death but… No. I broke every part of her but left her to watch, watch as her children suffered the same fate she had deigned on me."

"Tasty much?"

He huffed a grin. "Foul. Crunchy. I wouldn't recommend, other than the fear and terror I gleaned out of her before I turned on that eagle."

"-It sounds, so I gathered, like the Clockwerk you plan to bring back," she said. "The things I heard he did, to make those who sought to defy him suffer."

"As is fitting," he said softly. "All the more reason for him to rise. And for me to take him."

"-And if Rattigan pushes out his soul, as he plans to do, to rise into his body."

"Then there is a new worthy foe, to which to test my mettle."

"And if you lose."

"I lose."

"And if you win?"

"I win."

"And then."

"Whose knows," he smiled, "I haven't thought that far ahead."

"Seems strange for you," she noted. "You brought in your gun, flash bangs, tranq darts, dynamite…"

"Oh, the first two I never leave without. I had grenades too, just not the right place to use them."

"Now who brings a gun and flashbangs wherever they go?" she asked.

"I don't know, who brings a shock pistol wherever they go."

"Oh, this hot shot Interpol vixen cop. Her name's Carmelita. Never really found out why."

He chuckled a few times. "Still, worked out quite opportune. Didn't it?"

"Not so much for me, it seems," she said, giving a glance back.

"I wouldn't say that yet," he said, "I wouldn't say that yet."

She looked on, noting that the passageway widened out somewhat up ahead. Not much she could do with that, no real cover, no real chances to hide or run. Just the odd cut terrace here and there from the water when it was at full flow and not much else. Beyond that, though, another rise. Another scrabble up, a long one. One where she could get to the top, nice heavy rock in paw, and have one chance…

"You know," she mused. "Presuming you do win. -You won't really be considered a hero or anything."

"What, for falling the devil Kehaar himself upon the streets of the mightiest city?"

"Well, taking him down in whatever hidden cave or lab Rattigan has planned for his use. -Then getting taken in by the ZPD, Interpol, etcetera. Arrested for your many, many, many crimes… Probably deported back here to live the rest of your life in a lonely cell, alone…"

"And if I slip out into the night after my battle? Fall into the feuding packs of the great former criminal empires, rise through gunshot and knife as I did before, rise to the top?"

"That's a lot of work," she said. "A lot of things to go wrong. Again, starting with getting out of there…"

"I got out of such a place before," he smiled. "Despite rather precinct rumors to the otherwise, it seems."

"So you did," she agreed, approaching the next climb up. "We figured your body had fallen into the caves and tunnels the other side of that nest. Got lost in there. It was much a sore point to Felicity… -Your friend from training one, not the cannibal Pallas cat one."

He chuckled. "I always thought her name was Felicia."

"Oh, did you know?"

"He must use Felicity more often, who knows, such a strange thing for a so called great mammal like him to be trapped by."

"Oh, you think it's a problem he's in love," she tutted. "Then again, you were always too busy for romance."

"That, affection, loyalty. It makes mammals weak, as you so neatly demonstrated. I was enlightened that day, enlightened in the crawling horrors and pains of those caves, what followed. Ours is nothing more than a world of blood, flesh, pain and the oncoming end. Once I realised everything else was meaningless, I began my path to freedom."

"Freedom to probably die fighting a resurrected killer robo-owl?"

For once he paused, only to shrug it off. "Owl. Not what I expected, but just as exciting. Stop there."

She froze where she was, noticing that there was plenty of space around her as he circled, moving up to the next route up. Gun ever trained, he slid himself up to the top before gesturing at her to follow.

"I will say," she smiled. "You haven't lost anything. -Except an eye, your marbles, your cuteness."

"Why thankyou," he smirked, bowing a little before waving his gun. Up she moved, following behind him as they made their way up.

The next section was back to being tight, narrow, twisting, Lt Vixen pushed back to the front and marched along. As ever waiting, looking. Soon another short passage up came, the weight of the rock ever present.

She climbed up as ordered, only to pause as she emerged.

Clockwerk's visage glared down at her, along with a team of heavily armed mammals. She looked back at Woundwort as he pulled himself up. "You didn't expect an owl?"

The creature's scowling face was etched out and carved in a mosaic of bone, scale, feather and obsidian, great wings curving around a raised dais, brown stains on top and flowing down around to the water's edge. -Much of the throne room had been damaged by the ongoing flow as it had broken its banks, the bats no longer able to keep it intact. Beyond the stream, across a crumbling bridge, rose the mounds of the settlement, homes and roosts carved into the ceiling, walls and pillars, heavy mounds of guano long settled on the horizon like rolling hills. All across, water trickled down from the hanging calcite fangs like rain.

"I don't see species," Woundwort grunted, flicking his gun towards a large drone in front of them. "Just Keehar."

Lt Vixen began to move towards it. Large, eight rotors up top and a hanging, half enclosed basket below. She got partway before a loud cough stopped her. Looking back, Woundwort's revolver glistening in the light, he gestured at her to kneel at which point a mammal came out with a cable tie, holding her paws behind her and pulling them tight. A few pat downs at the pockets on her shorts and the trousers there, a few small bits of climbing equipment and a small knife were liberated.

She frowned. This, the drone, she calmed her nerves. With the latter she would have to find some solution, for the others. Whether she could with the former…

With another grunt she was pushed into the back cabin as it were of the drone, Woundwort and the pilot getting in the front. At the least, she told herself, her more private stash had gone undetected, the decoy's doing their jobs. She felt inside, moving things out and into some more accessible positions as the crew did some checks on the controls and the rotors began beating fast. The craft rose slowly at first as it tested itself, adjusted for the heavy weight imbalance, made itself secure in the air. Up front, the pilot flicked on some lights, cutting ahead, and began the slow crawl out.

Slow being a very relative term.

She was under no illusion that what would take minutes for them would take hours for her allies. Gritting her teeth, paw moving slowly around, her body shifted as they ducked and weaved through the main chamber and then into the ever tightening maw of the cave… -Waiting for when his eyes were turned, waiting for when he wasn't looking.

Down.

Around.

Pushing through.

Her claws felt it.

She felt herself get pushed into the bottom of her seat, the machine straining as it pulled itself up out of the near vertical shaft, water flicking and cascading around them.

Raising it up, feeling the weight.

Waiting.

Waiting…

Her eyes caught the rope lines going down the other way. -Abseiling down would be tricky, she'd have no safety line, it'd be pawpads on rope. And even with his gun, she'd be vulnerable. And exhausted when she got down and had to shoot herself out and walk back down. Back down to where they'd have already left if they had any sense.

Still, better than going up and fighting through whatever hoard there was there.

They tilted forward, pushing out into another wide cave and, to her horror, she thought she saw a glint of natural light far up ahead.

But a ridge was coming up, one they were going to clear, just barely. Feeling the rock in her paw, waiting, hoping…

Woundwort and his pilot were looking forward as they sailed just above some rocks and…

She punted it up, the slight rock in the basket followed by a clattering and a panicked shriek from the pilot as they pulled up before smashing and tumbling forward and over. She yelled as debris was thrown up at her, the roof rolling around and her head smashing in and…

.

.

…

Her head swam and her vision stung as her eyes slowly opened.

In front of her lay the top of the drone, half buried in the same mound of dirt and rubble she was. The rotors broken off, wiring spooling out like disemboweled guts, she grit her teeth and began moving her arms, fingers, legs. Pushing herself out, her body aching, she glanced around. The pilot was still inside, clipped in. Woundwort was struggling somewhat, gun still in his holster. She was still cable tied obviously, and looking around for anything to cut her bindings.

No, first thing first, shuffle over, grab the gun, shoot him.

She began making her way over, glibly noting that this wasn't how she'd ever expect a reunion with her dear old partner to go. Even now, she didn't want this, but…

-Well, it wasn't like he'd left her with much choice, she noted.

Just as she noted, this would be her first time truly killing someone face to face. No directing things around, no firing off into the distance at some faceless mook. Here he was, moving around, mumbling, slowly getting up as she shuffled closer, a race for time as…

A few shouts came out and she looked up to see a few of his mammals race up and over. Coming over to grab them, hold them, push them along.

She suppressed a sigh.

At the very least, she'd be able to play up her injuries, fake a sprained ankle. Slow them up as they made the last push.

Woundwort shook himself as he got up, looking over at her and then the pilot. "Now," he grunted. "Was that you or him."

She paused, glancing at the ruins of the drone. "Or it was that. -In which case it got what was coming."

A grin grew across his bloodied face, only to twerk to one side as a radio fizzled to life. Looking over at one of his mooks, he grabbed it and spoke in. "Ah, slight drone crash, but… Oh, I have it. I have someone else too."

She strained to hear who or what was on the other side. Was it…?

"-Army vixen, not only that but someone very close to me in my previous sad little life. I'm quite delighted I was able to leverage her into giving herself and the item up."

He frowned as a bark of something came out, followed by an indignant look. "There's not much else I can do, is there?" With that he threw the radio far into the distance, the incoherent screams emanating out trailing off. He dusted his scraped and damaged paws before looking over at her. "Come, he wants to talk with you."

She forced herself to keep calm, crossing her fingers and starting to hobble along.

.

.

"-Hello, is anybody…"

"-Carmelita!?"

The fox blinked back as she heard Skye's voice through the radio. They'd started cutting back up along the switchback ramp, having made their way past the sabotaged light and relays they'd previously left.

"Sí," she began, only to get cut off.

"-I think there's a link between this cave and the next, they worked it out and that we are…"

"I know!" Carmelita shouted. "Is the top still secure?"

"I… I'm halfway down, we couldn't get contact so…"

"Is it just you?"

"Yes," she said. "The others are still at the top."

"Even Wilde?" Carmelita asked, managing a small smile. "How did you ever manage to decide who went down to play hero?"

"Doug joked that we should flip a coin, we flipped a coin."

"Well he's useful for some things at least," she muttered, pausing to catch a breath. She settled down, letting Jack slide off her back. He was still a little shaky and unsure, but at this point she felt it worth trying to have him run. "-The 'General' himself made the slip in through the underground river. He snuck up on us, darted Jack to…"

"-IS HE OKAY!?"

"Tranq'd and drowsy, but he's good. But, listen, I don't know the details but this hare was someone your sister knew from her time in the Rangers or something…"

"What… -No, no, that's…"

"Well it very much is possible. And after we found the talisman by accident…"

"-You have it?"

"Yes!" Carmelita barked. "But we are on very limited time. Get everyone ready to move and shift the second we get up there, we're bugging out. We have one chance to make this work, and it may already be too late. Have you got that?"

"Yes, I… -Judy and Sweetie are okay, right?"

Carmelita sighed, standing up again. "Judy is. Your sister swapped herself for Jack."

A hoarse and near silent "what…?" trickled out the radio as Carmelita and Judy gave Jack a look, the hare blinking and shaking a little before the trio began running up once more, giving the odd stumble and shake but managing to keep up.

"As I said," Carmelita said. "Get ready to bug out the second we get there. I'll explain when I'm up, but we have one, one chance to make this work. And let us hope we're not too late."

"I… Okay… -Anything else I should relay up to the others."

"Do you have visual on the enemy?"

"We… We have a drone in a tree, yes."

"Keep it there, keep an eye on them and keep it ready."

.

.

Lt Vixen blinked as she hobbled out into the light, the sun cutting through the trees, silhouette black alongside the assemblement of mammals. Tough battle worn locals, guns ready, they bowed slightly as The General emerged.

All bar one, a very out of place rat.

He walked over, big jowled face frowning and paws clenched. "I should suppose the army would want something to do with this?"

She smiled. "What can I say, it seems like our business."

"Like the other stuff you messed with. -I must say, thank you for disposing with those pesky arms dealers I had dealings with. You sorted quite a few things out for me, before creating a whole rats nest of other problems."

She twitched her head a little, giving a smile. "I thought that would be a compliment."

This time his face winced up and flashed red like a cartoon pressure cooker about to explode, only to just about be kept cool. Instead he blew out a huff of air, looking at the one-eyed hare. "You know maybe I should avoid contracting one-eyed mammals, regardless of how highly they come rated."

"As if I don't deliver," Woundwort spoke, marching forward and flicking the plastic bag up in one paw a few times before gripping it and tearing it open with his teeth. Dropping the coppery item into his paw, Rattigan glanced at it before gesturing down to a nearby rock.

"There please."

The hare did so, his smile ever increasing. "You know she believed I would have to go to Zootopia to see him rise, to gain my satisfaction, but if you know how to do so here, then I…"

He was cut off as Rattigan pulled out a small recoilless gun and shot it, the item sparking and spinning off into the distance, the dull plink of it cutting through the undergrowth and hitting the ground matched by the clatter of guns being pulled, triggers aimed back, breath being bated.

"If you have just done what I think you have just done," Woundwort growled, gesturing to one of his underlings to go in and find it. The small coati nodded, running off. "Then I will still get some satisfaction from this."

Rattigan yawned. "From what I gather, the Soeviets with their talisman tried everything short of strapping it to an atomic bomb to break it. Drills, grinders, presses, certainly bullets, it didn't make a scratch until they worked out how to disable its shielding."

Woundwort paused, shaking his head and frowning. "With a shock pistol, wasn't it? Like the one that sparked off it, in the cave?"

"The same that helped take down Clockwerk at Krakarov itself. Of course, the effect was only temporary. It's not like you permanently deactivate it." The rat looked over, eyes narrowing as the coati returned with what was left of the talisman, half the top cleaved off and wires spooling out. "So suffice to say," Rattigan growled, looking at it before turning to Woundwort and exploding. "THAT'S NOT IT YOU IDIOT! THEY SWAPPED IN A FAKE! JUST LIKE WHAT THEY DID WITH THE LAST ONE-EYED MORON TASKED WITH ACQUIRING THE REAL DEAL FOR THEIR SUPERIOR!" He then turned, pointing at Lt Vixen. "You…"

She smiled, bowing. "Guilty as charged," she said, before looking over to Woundwort. "The question really is, are you going to take that from him?"

"And that is a very good question," he said, looking down at Rattigan. "After all, I still have plenty of guns pointing at you."

If Rattigan was phased he didn't show it. "And I have the key to the one thing you want. The one thing I want. For as long as this temporary truce lasts, we need each other. And right here, you need me."

"Oh, do I?" he asked, leaning down and letting his eye bore into Rattigan. "I have an army. What do you have, Rat?"

This time Padriach visibly shook, fur spiking. "What do I have?" he asked, nostrils flaring. "I have… a stealth drone. A bullet proof, well armed, very deadly stealth drone that only I have the activation codes for."

"And…"

"-And right now, her friends," the rat spoke, pointing at Lt Vixen. "Will likely be out of their cave and racing down the mountain, with the real talisman. Get to their vehicles, push down back to the cities and out of our reach as fast as they can. Once they're there, once they've taken off, that's it, the lead's closed, and before any will open they'll be hunting down the remainder with the two they've got, robbing us of this forever! So, if you want your satisfaction you are going to come with me, we're going to fly over, hit them hard, take it from them… And at least get the satisfaction of seeing that meddlesome pin-up vix watch!"

He pointed at the Lt who shrugged. "I suppose I volunteered for leverage detail," she smiled.

"Oh, I look forward to wiping that grin off your face," Rattigan smirked, as he began waving her and Woundwort on. Gun to her back, she followed, the group passing through thick undergrowth until emerging next to a large camouflage sheet. Pulling it away, the stealth drone revealed itself, Rattigan punching in a code and opening a rear hatch. There wasn't much space, no light, only a gap looking into the front compartments held tight by netting. Gun at her back and with a squeeze, in she went, giving a shrug at Woundwort as he came over.

"What can I say?" she smiled. "I've still got it."

He looked at her blankly for a second before managing a smirk. "However infuriating, you are making this fun for me."

And with that the lid was closed down and locked. Woundwort looked over as Rattigan gestured at a few of his troops to pack in supplies, as if they were the rats own to command. The rodent then gave him a dismissive look, pointing at him to get in the middle compartment as the rat entered the pilot's cabin.

Inside, the doors closed tight, the hare looked around through the dim lights as the machine powered up. Rather than windows, tablet screens lit up with video feeds from outside, showing the world around them. A few firing points and slits were available, along with what looked like a heavier weapon selection system for the pilot.

The engine turned and spun into life, quickly followed by the whirring of the rotors as they began to lift off, debris and undergrowth kicked out as they strained up and into the air. "There's a drop-hatch, in the middle," Rattigan said, before looking over to some of the boxes and cases they had. Warning signs on some, air holes in others. "Let's treat our meddlesome passenger to some fun."

.

.

"Do you hear something?"

Their race down the jungle path ground to a sudden halt, all mammals turning to Jack. The second the three had emerged from the cave, the rest had begun to make their move back down, despite Skye's proterstations. It hadn't taken long though for even her to see the facts.

Their mission above all else was to stop Rattigan from bringing back Clockwerk.

Her sister had made a swap knowing that was the case.

Their job was to get the thing out and away before Rattigan realised the mistake.

They were not equipped to go up against anything like such a force, but the incoming Interpol forces, just taking off and less than a day away, were.

Let them handle the rescue, their job was to return the talisman home, whatever the cost.

So they'd started running downhill. Carmelita, Judy and Jack, already exhausted from their climb up, were carried by Murray and Tigress. The others race down alongside them, eyes on Skye in case she fell behind.

They were just approaching the most dangerous part, where the bridge had fallen through and they had to navigate up and around, when Jack heard it.

"Everyone, quiet," Carmelita whispered, gesturing at the crew to retreat back under some cover, tight. Glancing at Judy, she watched the bunny pull her ears around before gulping, turning to her and nodding.

"What about our one," the Interpol fox whispered, glancing at Skye as she pulled up the controls.

"I can fly it over, but it'd take time, it's not armed or anything, I… -I could try and fly it into a rotor or…"

"Or try and distract them," she said, turning to Murray. "You take over carrying Skye, okay?"

"Okay," he said, as Carmelita brought out and tested her shock pistol. "If he's far enough away, he'll duck and weave, but with that drone diverting his attention…"

"Or I just get a regular gun and shoot him," Doug said. "You know that's always an option, rather than lobbing a highly visible slowly moving electrical charge at him and hoping he doesn't have eyes or generally mediocre reaction skills."

The others turned to him before Judy sighed, reaching down to hand him a pistol.

"Nice! Got anything with more punch?"

Carmelita shuffled around in a gear bag and brought out a higher powered bolt rifle. "-Of course," she said, "this is assuming the thing isn't built out of kevlar or something. At least with this I might be able to fry his electronics."

"Gentlemammals," Nick hissed, turning as his ears pivoted. Finger to his lips, he and the others pulled themselves closer into cover as the far off whirr became a louder drone, soon followed by the black vessel itself hovering over, ever searching.

.

.

"This is how they got up," Rattigan growled. "This is how they made it." He peered in closer to his screen, looking over the faint trace through the jungle and the odd break. His eyes focussed on the small extendable ladder crossing the river where a bridge had once been. "Where are they? Where are they…" He pondered for a second before smiling. "You know, it doesn't even matter. -I… -Oh, Woundedworm?"

For the first time Lt Vixen saw a glare come from the hare's one eye.

"You know your special gift there," he said, pointing at a box before smiling. "Just in case they haven't crossed, let's pit that against them."

A set of chuckles rang out before Rattigan turned forward and flicked a switch, a second later his voice ringing out.

.

.

"Greetings you meddling swine!" All of the mammals looked out and up at the aircraft. "I have the chief meddler amongst you with me! So, I'm going to make sure wherever you are along this trail, you hear me. We're going to meet down at the base, where I presume your vehicles are camped out, and do a little hostage exchange. Your mammal, for my talisman! Sound fair?"

And with that he began to move on and over, down into the gulley and back up, repeating the message as he went.

It was Judy who spoke first. "He'll take out the vehicles."

"We can trek, we'll still be ahead of the land forces," Carmelita said.

"I…" the bunny began, as Nick spoke up.

"I'm with Judy," he said. "He's trying to hustle us, don't let him. If you can shoot him now…"

"If I miss," Carmelita said, leaning forward and gesturing over to the open patch ahead. "We have no cover, we'd be sitting ducks, trapped until his mammals get here."

"Or I just shoot them," Doug said.

"Well what about Skye's drone?" Murray asked. "How far away are you?"

The vixen, brow furrowed, looked up. "I'm… I'm getting close… But what if…"

"He won't be expecting an attack from above," Tigress said. "If we can get that thing here, modify it to force down the drone before it gets to where it's going, that could be our best shot."

All eyes looked around before Carmelita nodded. "While he's busy, we start crossing there too. And if he comes back, let us hope our shots are true."

Chapter Text

Chapter 15:

.

.

"Okay, move, move!"

Following the command, Nick, Jack and Judy made their way out through the overgrowth, racing on all four paws to cross the extendable ladder. It shook as they crossed, the water roaring down beneath them as they moved.

A few seconds later and they made it, diving into a set of ferns and bushes, keeping their eyes and ears open. Waiting…

Up ahead, Carmelita looked around and nodded, gesturing over.

From up the hill, Tigress and Murray raced down, crashing through the undergrowth and hunkering down, making their way across the ladder one after the other. It took a few seconds for them to reach the other side, Tigress hunkering down into a gulley the smaller mammals hadn't even seen before, her stripes balanced against the grass. Murray set down, pulling out a few bushes and holding them in front of him.

"We okay?" Judy asked, looking around then up.

Carmelita nodded. "Quick run up to the next piece of cover and… -Where's the sheep?"

They all looked around, the path up to where they'd just been distinctly sheepless.

"-Outperforming you as usual." Looking uphill, they saw him under the treeline, a bored look on his face. "Just because you require to cross in the open doesn't mean I do."

Judy narrowed her eyes at him, only for Nick to cut her off. "-Well, who's to say a sheep has to follow the crowd?" he smiled, giving a thumbs up. He got up, starting to move on. "Anyway, we better get into actual cover or…"

"-Wait," Skye said, paw up. "We're almost here."

Jack, ears up, nodded. Pointing up the mountain a few of the mammals saw the small figure of their drone coming in.

"You go ahead," the swift vixen began, "I'll just…" She was shaken as Tigress slid a paw around her and hoisted her up. "-Tha… That also works."

"Well," Murray said, standing up. "Let's…"

"STOP!"

All eyes turned to Jack, the hare standing up, a terrified look on his face. His ears seemed stretched, practically pointed, while his arm trembled in front of him before racing back down to where his gun should be. "Cuss, CUSS!" He glanced at Judy, then Carmelita. "Lance! Lance! Kill it!"

The female bunny looked around confused, stepping forwards. "What the…"

She didn't get a chance to answer as Jack leapt forward, tackling her away from where she'd been going. "Wha…"

"Snake," Skye said, her ears suddenly going back as she looked around. A second or two and she spotted it, arm stretching forward. Murray followed it before leaping back.

Finally, getting up, Judy's eyes focussed and her ears fell, nose twitching. Small, light and dark browns, coiled up it slowly moved, stretching a little within the ferns just in front of Murray. Right where he would have stepped through.

"That's…" Nick said, taking a calming breath as he stepped back and around. "A nasty one, right…"

"That's death," Jack gulped, paw out as he practically mammalhandled Judy away and around from it, eyes out and looking for any more. "Even with our antivenom… It'll kill us."

Murray, very tenderly, stepped around it. "Well… We just leave him alone, he's more scared of us than…"

"-There's another one," Carmelita warned, pointing down near here.

Jack pulled himself tight, glancing around. "I want my gun back. I want it back now."

"It's…" Judy said, calming him. "It's okay, we get out of here. Slowly."

"Right, right," he managed to say.

The group slowly began pushing through and around, a warning coming up from Nick of a third.

"We…" Jack began, breath heaving in and out. "We walked right through them. In the dark. In the…"

"No," Carmelita said. "I think Rattigan dropped them."

Dave, working his way around the edge and back to the track, shook his head. "You know just when you think that jerk can't get any worse, cruelty to animals."

"It's not the cruelty I care about," Jack hissed as they made their way back to the other side, back onto the trail and under cover. A few looks around, the area seemingly clear of snakes. "It's the fact he threw a fer-de-lance at us!"

Getting down from Tigress, Skye put the drone controls to the side for a second to walk up to him, paw out to comfort… "It's okay…"

"NO!" he yelled, walking up to her and grabbing her, pulling her in as he looked around. Finally he held her out at arms length. "There was a chance you'd have stepped on one of those monsters and died in agony! I'm not going to let that happen, you hear! And he's going to pay for even putting you at that risk. Do you hear me!"

He shook her, the vixen blinking before answering in the affirmative.

"-Real question is, does Rattigan?" Doug asked.

A few eyes looked at him before the mammals settled down, Skye taking back the remote and guiding the drone back in, Tigress leaping up and grabbing it, settling it down.

"Okay," Carmelita said, walking towards it. "How do we do this?"

"-Well," Doug said, grabbing one of the few packs they hadn't abandoned and opening it out. A few different supplies fell out, the sheep immediately grabbing a bottle of rubbing alcohol. "Cut off the top, hang it bucket style under the drone with a pull-flare attached on top. Fly it onto Rattigan's machine, tip over to douse while pulling and activating the flare. If fire doesn't flow in and cook him, the damage to the control systems will almost certainly cause him to crash."

Skye nodded, starting to walk over to the drone only to freeze. "-She's in there."

"What?" Carmelita asked as Skye looked up.

"-To make a prisoner swap, he'd need her in there," she said. "If we take it down… -We can't."

Carmelita sighed, clutching the breast of her jacket. "We need to…"

"Cuss that!" the tan coloured vixen snarled. "We're not risking her!"

"If he takes out the vehi…"

"-We fight him then!" Skye yelled. "That's my sister he's got! So don't talk about her being some military mammal who knew the risks or is willing to die for this mission. I'M BRINGING HER BACK!"

The mammals backed away from her, her teeth bared and fur on end. A second or two of silence followed before she wiped her eyes with her paws before turning back to the drone. "Come on, think, think…"

"Do… Do we have any trackers?" Nick asked. "Sneak one on, let him have it and intercept…"

"No," Carmelita cut in, tail swishing.

Skye turned to her, her eyes narrowing. "No, we don't have any or no we're not going to risk it?"

"Yes on both counts," the red vixen said. "I'm sorry, I…"

"I don't want your apologies, I want a solution to this."

"I…" Carmelita looked at her shock pistol. "From a lower altitude, onto the trees, they'd likely survive."

"Likely…"

"We knew the risks when we came in," the red vixen said softly, backing off as Skye focussed on the drone, rubbing her head. Instead, she looked at Jack, gesturing at him to go over and comfort her.

"I… -We have antivenom."

She turned to him, head tilting.

"-If he wants to make us do the swap, what better way than letting one of those monsters bite her," Jack said. "Swap her for the talisman, so we might have a chance to get to town and get her a cure. -We wouldn't, no chance. But he doesn't know we have the cure, I…"

"-And he'd keep her until he got that thing," Carmelita said, shaking her head.

"-Why don't we turn the tables then?" Murray asked. All eyes turned to him. "Drop the snakes on him."

Jack shook his head. "Her sister would get bit, we…"

"-But didn't you say we had the cure?" Murray asked.

"I… -We've got the cure for car crashes, that doesn't mean we do it," the hare spat. "And chances are we'd use it all up fixing ourselves first from trying to catch those things and be walking zombies by the time we reach them."

"I…" Nick began. "Snake plan could still be a neat little way to turn the tables if it comes down to the wire. So, put that one in the bank."

Jack looked at him incredulously only for Skye to very unhappily interject. "She signed up for the Rangers, being bitten by things like that was a known risk. -We've got more a cure for accidental snake bites than we have for fire."

"Okay," Nick began, "and we transport these how?"

The mammals were quiet for a second before Tigress walked over to the jungle edge and with a flash of her foot snapped out a bamboo stalk before laying it on the ground, giving a paw chop to cut a smaller length.

"Or we could use the bag," Doug said. "Which would look more natural as we hand it over to him."

"Okay," Nick agreed. "Though it has one disadvantage."

"Which is," the sheep asked. "Apart from not being 'snake shaped.'"

Nick looked at him. "You have to admit, big disadvantage."

Doug just glanced off to where most of the non-vulpine members of the group were standing. "You see this is why fox humour never really amounted to…"

"-Will you just zip it!" Skye snarled, snapping to him.

Doug just glanced back. "And you're taking out your ire at me because?"

The vixen got up, marching to him. "I bet you've been waiting a while for this, haven't you? You're enjoying this. Feeling power again, predator lives in your hooves, getting your own back at the fox who…"

"-I volunteered to work under?" he asked. "I'd like to ask what I did to deserve this treatment."

"Do you want the list?" Judy asked.

The sheep just turned to Murray. "You ever had to work with large numbers of predator supremacists and their sycophants?"

"I…" the unsure hippo said, stepping back.

"Shut it!" Carmelita snarled. "All of you. Right now I don't care if we're a suicide squad with the worst group of mammals in the world. Our job is to get this Talisman back safely, and if we can save one of our own or capture or kill Rattigan on the way, that's a nice bonus. But not something worth sacrificing the mission for." Skye began to speak, only for Carmelita to march up, cutting her off. "If we rescue her but lose this Talisman, we are all dead. Understand? Understand?"

Skye looked back, blinking. "Dead like the years of our lives where Clockwerk was alive?"

Carmelita wrinkled her nose. "Dead like the years before nineteen-thirty seven when Hirschler was alive? -And that's not counting if Rattigan actually succeeds in his entirety. Ask yourself this, right here, right now. When you came on this mission, you were willing to risk your life, die, to make sure we succeeded. To make sure Clockwerk didn't return and Rattigan failed. Right. Right?"

Face writhing up, Skye managed a nod.

"Well, so was your sister. Got it?"

Another angry nod, Carmelita turning. "Very carefully capture some of the snakes. We can load them in a bag, if he wants a swap, he can get that and hopefully die from a bite."

"And if not?" Skye asked.

"I expect we're going to have a big fire fight," Carmelita muttered.

"And if we all die and he captures it then?"

The red vixen was silent for a second or two, thinking.

"Why not… -Eat it?" Murray asked. "I could do that."

They all looked at him before Judy shook her head. "It's touch telepathic or something. It'd flood you with visions, make it impossible for you to fight."

"-Only with direct contact," Nick countered, shaking his head and chuckling. "We wrap it in plastic, it should be okay for a while."

Carmelita shook her head. "Fine, last reserve plan thing." She pulled out the Talisman and threw it over, Murray pocketing it.

"Or…" Nick commented. "We destroy it like the last one. We've got one half of what we need." He pointed at Carmelita's shock pistol, the vixen's ears going up.

"And do we have any heavy drills, grinders or things?" Skye asked, eyebrow rising. "As however impressive I think she is, I don't thing Tigress can karate chop it."

"She and I could try dropping that rock on it,," Murray said, the gang looking over to a large rock.

Carmelita nodded, gesturing over for them to try it. Unwrapped, placed on exposed rock, she aimed as the two larger mammals strained to raise the large boulder. Hoisting it up, walking it over, Skye stepped forward and back, failing to start raising an objection and never following it through.

Finally, Carmelita fired, the thing sparking bright as the heavy boulder came crashing down on it.

A second or two later it was pulled off, nothing changed.

"Well, worth a shot," Murray said, wrapping it up again. "Seems it's back to the stomach plan."

"And the snake one," Carmelita said, managing a comforting look at a fretful Jack. "Unless anyone else has any better ideas."

"-Could we try thermiting it instead?" Nick asked.

"Do we have thermite?" Judy asked.

"Do we have the stuff here to make it?" the fox asked Doug.

"Well we have iron oxide," he said, hoof tapping a rusted out rail on the ground. "And aluminium." He held up a can. "Now we just need to grind these into an ultrafine powder somehow and we'll be fairly sorted on that front.

"Okay," Nick agreed. "Snake plan."

"Snake plan," Carmelita agreed.

"Snake plan," Skye muttered.

"-Does anyone have any other plan apart from the snake plan?" Jack asked, looking around.

Doug, shrugging, spoke. "You know I was wondering if any of you would be open minded enough to take one of my suggestions seriously…"

.

.

.

Sly walked into the entrance of the Kung Fu temple, somehow feeling all the more smaller as Bentley wheeled himself alongside him. Everything was quiet, the early morning rain schedule down below turned off and just the simmering mists left to climb up and curl around the top of the peaks. There was even a brisk chill, a strong gust of air whipping up the cold from Tundratown and pushing it back over and down the mountain ridge.

Even though he'd resisted far worse in the Tian Shan, the Yukon, the palaeolithic… It cut through his bones.

"Woah!" His eyes cut to the left as he saw Po jog up, panting. "I heard what you did."

"Ah…" The racoon began.

"It was AMAZING!" Sly quirked his head a little, only for the panda to carry on. "I mean, two jobs in one night! -First off, going into the Palm Casino all John Wolf, battling through a nightclub and then escaping on a parasail and then going in and breaking out of a mental hospital or something… -Not sure why you did the last bit unless there's some super kung fu master in there you were able to encourage to come out to help win the day or for me to battle in an almighty clash of good or evil… Both will count. BUT IT WAS AMAZING."

"Okay," Sly said. "Quick question, or three. How did you know about the casino heist?"

"Dik-Dok."

"Right, makes sense," the raccoon nodded. "-And the asylum escape… -I'm afraid sans any kung fu masters."

"Aaaahhhhhhh… -Oh, ZNN buletin."

"Also makes sense…"

"Yeah, update on their new Dik-Dok account."

Sly nodded, rolling his paw along. "And… -Is this John Wolf another kung fu master or…"

He trailed off as he saw Po's eyes widen in shock. "Wait… -When did you get lost in time again?"

"Twenty-thirteen…" Sly began, only to be seized on the shoulders by the panda.

"You haven't seen John Wolf!" The panda exclaimed, turning to Bentley. "He hasn't seen John Wolf!" Back again to Sly. "You haven't seen it, or two, three or four. You haven't seen it!" With that, the raccoon was pulled up under arm by the bear, who immediately turned and began jogging off.

"Wait, what are you…" Sly began, snapping to attention and starting to tug and pull.

"Rectifying this major problem," the panda said, turning down. "We are going to binge ALL FOUR."

"I, let me…"

"-I mean, you wouldn't even get the 'cussin' pencil' scene."

"I don't…"

"We called him BIG BAD. -What, 'cause he's 'the big bad wolf'. Not exactly, he's the one you call to KILL the big bad wolf… You are going to…"

Sly sighed, before forcing Po to release him by unleashing a brutal nerve attack.

"-HEY! THAT TICKLES!"

Sly slipped from the grip of the panda, landing and then jumping backwards, standing with Bentley. The panda turned to him, a look of concern on his face. "Hey, is it me or is something not quite right…"

And with that Sly sighed. "So… Me heisting the palm was a spur of the moment stupid thing mainly to try and distract me from an awful truth I had come to realise. -A truth that Bentley then made me go to that asylum to get out to a psychiatrist…"

"You mean, a truth that I wanted you to get out to any shrink but you decided to do in the most convoluted way possible," the turtle said, crossing his arms.

"And was there a faster way of getting an appointment?"

"...Marginally, yes."

"Well, the past is history," Sly started, carrying on.

"-Oooh, and the future a mystery," Po filled in. "-Saying by a cool mentor of mine, Bentley would like him, they're the same species. -Well, almost."

"Anyway," the raccoon began, fumbling with his paws. "While I was in ancient Egypt, I found this… Time and Dimension traveller, who offered me a way back. -But as he charged up his ship, I realised he was Clockwerk. -Pre converting his whole body, but… It was him. So I knocked him out and stranded him a billion years or so back in time and… -Well, turns out I just set up a stable time loop. Stranded there, he fully converted himself, waited all that time to get his revenge but… -Turns out he mistook my father for me, hitting us one generation early and traumatizing me so… -Yeah, stable timeloop."

Po nodded along, quietly. "That's rough buddy."

Sly could only nod a little. "Yeah, I… -I wouldn't put it quite like that, but… Yeah. Don't think I could have put it better myself."

The panda paused for a second. "Wait a sec, you haven't seen…"

"-I'm certain it's very fun but now is not the right time," Sly said, paw up. "I… Well…"

"His guilty conscience would be more assuaged if he was yelled at or something," Bentley explained. "As it is, we're being unreasonably reasonable at the moment."

Po looked on, turning to Sly. "I mean, I'll try to be more mad if that helps, might struggle a bit or…"

"No, no," Sly filled in. "Nothing much for me to do than just, hope it fades with time or..." He breathed in and out. "How are the others doing?"

"Last I heard they knew they were in the right place, but Rattigan and co were nearby in the wrong place. But I haven't heard much from them in a while, so that could be good! Or bad."

"Right, right," Sly agreed. "Just got to hope they do come back and this nightmare will be over."

The plaza was quiet for a second or two before the panda spoke up. "I can think of one mammal who might be less receptive to this news. If that helps?"

.

.

It took them surprisingly little time to reach him. Though it helped that they were on the border of Tundratown, some of the mountain passes open. Pushing down, they quickly arrived at the specialist hospital they'd arranged him to be transferred to. Sly walked down the corridor, quietly, calmly, somewhat hoping that a bunch of staff would recognise him as the mammal who'd just escaped a high security mental institution and an ensuing battle-escape would commence.

As it happened though they had an easy walk over towards the private room, Sly knocking before letting himself in. Already hating himself as the polar bear inside looked at him with deeply undue reverence.

Kozlov was looking stronger, his fur regrowing, his body healthier. Certainly he now lived with a far greater likelihood of some diseases, but the time for them to manifest was generally longer than that he expected to have left anyhow. He had a new optimism and determination about him, managing to shine through even as he saw the morose expression on the raccoon.

"Is… There problem? Expedition, they are…"

"No, no," Sly said, sitting down. "Last I heard, they're doing okay. I… I just wanted to speak to you, fully, mammal to mammal."

The smile returned to Kozlov. "If you feel my struggles with our common enemy are anything to do with you, then…"

"Well, they are. To do with me." He said.

Kozlov blew some air, laughing. "What, you think you should have taken him down earlier. When voice was still high or something? That your family owes us debt for our failures…"

"No," Sly cut in. "But I do, for mine. And I believed I should have taken him down earlier. In fact, I tried to."

The polar bear looked at him, confused. "I do not understand."

"Then let me explain," Sly said, and he did. Retelling the story. Le Paradox, the battle over Paris, his life and exploits in Ancient Egypt. His encounter, his realisation, his return to the present expecting glory only for the other realisations to flood in. All that time, looking down, just telling it out.

He didn't even look at Kozlov during that time, he just acknowledged his silence until the very end. When he waited for… Something. As if he'd felt the charge grow in the thunderhead all this time and now, his fur on end, was just waiting for the lightning to strike.

"-And so, yeah. Everything you went through, it was because of me. Here I am. Your hero."

The room was silent before a chuckle rolled out. Not a happy chuckle, not a sadistic one, but there was a darkness, a mirth to it. The raccoon looked up, seeing the polar bear staring up at the ceiling. Finally, a few seconds later, the bear spoke. "They say don't meet your heroes…"

"I'm sorry," Sly said. "-That I couldn't be…"

"What? Not mammal? Not just a normal Yenot." He looked down with tired eyes. "I… -We all wish there is more than just us. There are some, greater, for us to look up to. That is why we have heroes, I guess. And you? I suppose that after knowing you took down the great devil himself, you and the Inspector could be those."

"Well, you still have her," Sly said.

He raised an eyebrow. "Da, I suppose," he said, looking off. "And knowing where Sizogo came from, I feel… -He is just another, like us. Life is funny, hmmmm… Hmmmmm…" He sighed. "Where I come from, we tried to say that there were no gods, no demons, just… -Just people, and people alone could rise to be heroes for the people, and people alone could be monsters that deserved to be eliminated. And yet I found a true demon, so I, so Jorin, so the others chose to rise up to meet him. To fight. To bring him out. To end him. Because in our world, such a thing like him… Did not even deserve to exist. Even if he had been alone, just waiting in his roost until it was time to seek his one revenge. It was our duty to bring him down and level him out."

"To be a hero," Sly said. "Unlike me."

"And how many suffered for that," Kozlov said. "How many who we could have left alone lost their lives. How many…" He sighed. "To get a chance to find out about him, about what happened to my brother, I became the one that knocks, the one in the car to take the enemies away silently. To judge and weigh others' souls. My superior felt those of a fox weigh far more darkly than any other and I, seeing my revenge far away, used them as stepping stones, crushing under foot, to reach it. It would be worth it, once I was hero."

He looked down at Sly. "I led soldiers into battle on roof of the world, by fluke only I survive. Soon we had chance to start shaking the hive, we did everything we could to make sure we not stung. We soon knew he sting others in lieu, but we carry on. Revenge, glory, I…" He gestured down at himself. "Mammals were put in beds like me at the end of that road. Only theirs ended. They saved world and died, we lived on. We lived on."

A silence filled the room. "Which could have been avoided if…"

"If he had not killed your parents, no?" Kozlov asked.

"If I had not destroyed him," Sly said back, brow furrowing. "I don't… -Your brother died because of this, I…"

"He died because of Clockwerk. He died because of Ratsputin, because of Tsar and their family, because of revolution, because of mammal exploring mineshaft, because of fun little idea to keep me occupied on last day of term. Could I be mad at all those, I…" He sighed. "I know one day, I will be judged for all my sins. Those I stepped over, those killed in my crusade. If you are confused why I not mad at you… -It because I know, I want, to be where you are now." He reached over, cupping the raccoon's head in his giant paw. "At foot of everyone who suffer. From young pioneer and family, to dead soldier, to clueless passenger, to firefighter, to those many after when I did not even have good reason, just what I was good at. To tell my story, to let them know why. To let them judge me. To give unto you, what you just gave me. Truth, reasons why, closure… Thank you, Yenot." He smiled. "You are just clueless mammal, like I, like all of us."

Sly didn't know how to respond. Eventually, a single question came out. "Like him?"

Kozlov didn't respond for a second or two, eventually shrugging. "Da, maybe… If… If I ever saw him again, god forbid, I always thought I would give him piece of my mind. And you, now?"

Sly looked down. "I'd tell him it was me."

Kozlov just nodded. "Da. Good way to blue screen of death him."

Sly choked out a chuckle before he even realised it, looking up. "I… Well, that might work. He does run off hate."

"Did you try 'This statement is false' him before," the bear asked, a small grin growing on his face.

"No, but I think he's smarter than that," the raccoon carried on. "I… -We're treating this as a joke, how is this a joke…"

"Life is a joke," the bear sighed. "One giant one, is it not? We can only laugh at ourselves, stupid mammals. Chasing each other's tails. "We could get mad at it, but then what? No… Better just laugh at stupidity, to save anger for things that really deserve it."

"Like…"

"No vodka," Kozlov said, crossing his paws. "After hearing that, I really want vodka."

"At this time in the morning?" Sly teased.

"No, earlier."