Edited by: LotharHex, Jeinu, and Erinnyes

Notes: Big thanks to my beta readers for helping proofread and edit this chapter! (And to my original Editor!) Also thanks to ThePeacer for the feedback ragarding the story summary and writing, really helpful :)

And thanks to everyone that patiently waited for me to start writing again, my writers block is gone and I'm feeling the romance bug better than ever! I hope you all enjoy the direction that Consecution is taking and Chapter 3 should post next weekend.

8 Years ago

Tuesday June 26th, 20W7

CIVIL EMERGENCY BROADCAST

This is an emergency message from the Zootopian Department of Territorial Defense. This is not a test.

At approximately 12:19 PM Central Zootopian Time, we detected a long-range cobalt missile launch from an island in the South Altan Ocean.

This missile is believed to be headed in the direction of the Central Zootopian metropolitan area. Due to its current speed and trajectory it will drop from low-orbit and impact the city in the next two to three hours.

All residents within 800 miles of this area are advised to seek a fallout shelter immediately.

Cobalt-based nuclear weapons produce a far greater amount of fallout than conventional nuclear weapons, and are designed to cause permanent and extreme damage to the ecosystem and climate of the target area. Fallout is extremely dangerous and is a byproduct of the initial atomic detonation.

If you are unable to locate a fallout shelter in your area, please seek assistance from local authorities. Please be advised that availability may be limited for larger sized mammals, check with your local authorities if you are a large class species.

Take a battery powered radio or smartphone and any essential supplies with you to the fallout shelter. We will begin broadcasting further information on survival and the state of the city after impact.

Attempting to take shelter in a non-approved location, or fleeing the potential detonation zone is not advised as your survivability could be severely limited. Atomic attacks are nearly impossible to outrun, as the blast radius is far greater than the distance any conventional vehicle can travel.

This message will repeat, please standby.

Island of Whiskershreik, South Altan Ocean

Afternoon

38 minutes until missile impact

7 hours into Operation Flame Runner

"So close," Whiskershreik said in his slight Schevite accent, almost cackling with his deep raspy voice, "SO close. Such a shame, I expected more from you, Runner."

"Likewise," Runner said to the cocky black panther. "I seem to have made it this far without much of an effort. I'm disappointed, I didn't even have to kill anyone."

Runner was being held by the arms by two large henchmen, both tigers, either perfectly strong enough to hold Runner in place. He had finally been captured close to his target: the computer console in Whiskershreik's main office that could remotely abort the cobalt warhead hurtling toward Zootopia. And yet…

"Cocky until the end, much to be expected of course..." Whiskershreik said, walking over to a selection of alcoholic drinks at a nearby bar. "Can I offer you a drink?"

"Coffee," Runner requested, "Lots of sugar, cinnamon, with a dash of cocoa powder."

Whiskershreik turned to give a puzzled look at Runner, before letting out a sly smile, "I suppose you have been skulking around my island for several hours, you could use some coffee. I much prefer a stiff drink myself, but I suppose you're right. Wouldn't want to start the hard stuff right before the big bang."

They were in what seemed to be Whiskershreik's living and work space. It was well-furnished, complete with a large glass work desk and computer. There was a fully equipped kitchen, with a large panoramic window showed across most of the island and ocean. The base was built into the side of the mountain of the volcano, tall trees shrouded much of the area outside of the window. A true lair for any evil mastermind.

"Your name's a bit long, no?" Runner said. There was something in his pocket, something he had to get out without the use of his arms.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Your name, 'Whiskershreik'." He said mockingly, "How about I just call you 'Whiskers?'"

"Hmm," Whiskershreik walked towards Runner, foregoing the drink he was about to prepare. He reached into the pocket that Runner was eyeing, finding nothing, he reached into the coat to one of his interior pockets.

"Whoa," Runner said, feigning offense, "Got any concept of personal space?"

Whiskers pulled out a narrow, long device; its function was not apparent.

"Really?" Whiskershreik raised an eyebrow at the tiger henchmen that were holding Runner in place. "Gadgets. Do they not teach you cats how to search for gadgets?"

"I'm gonna need that back, Whiskers." Runner said smoothly, readying the button ring on his finger, "Please be careful with it."

"Mmm, yes, I'm sure." Whiskers pocketed the device, not giving it a second look, "If you insist on calling me such a disrespectful name, I'm sure you won't mind if I call you by one as well, 'Jack'." He crouched down to Runner's level, grinning cockily.

Runner simply looked away, sighing laboriously.

Whiskers straightened out, turned, and headed back toward the mini-kitchen. "Now how about that drink?" He snapped his padded finger, signifying to the guards. "Leave us."

The two guards released their tight grip of both of Runner's arms, allowing blood flow back into them as they slumped to his sides. The guards left the room after nodding their acknowledgement of the order.

"That's it?" Runner asked, puzzled, "No restraints? I don't need a weapon to kill you."

"You overestimate yourself, Jack." Whiskers began pouring water into a kettle. "You may not need a weapon, but unlike you I actually have one." He brandished his revolver, hidden in its holster behind the overcoat of his fancy black suit. "But I don't think I'll be needing it. Have a seat." He gestured towards a curved couch and its accompanying coffee table.

"Why is that? What's stopping me from attacking you right now? After all, millions of lives are at stake and I have twenty minutes left to stop you."

"That's precisely why," He lightly chuckled, "Surely your precious commander has already informed you that the missile will be impossible to stop if I'm not conscious, let alone dead."

Runner stayed quiet and moved towards the couch. Whiskers was right; the biometric scanner in the room would detect that he was in an irregular state and thus not allow any new orders to be sent to the missile.

He clicked the ring on his finger in a sequence. Careful not to let Whiskers hear.

"Just a few more minutes, Runner," the female voice in from the radio hidden in his ear. "SATR is tracking the missile, it's almost within range of the Conifer."

He clicked a few times in acknowledgement.

Runner knew the Conifer to be Zootopia's underground climate control column. Its auxiliary ability of remotely altering and manipulating materials was useful in protecting the city from ballistics and other threats.

"Here," Whiskers said from behind, handing down a mug of coffee. Runner took it, saying nothing.

Whiskers walked around the couch and took a seat in an armchair across from him.

"Tell me, Jack." He started, talking a drink from his own mug, the contents of which were unknown to Runner. "Tell me. Why are you trying to put a stop to what needs to happen?"

Runner choked slightly as he took a sip of the coffee. "Destroying Zootopia… You're saying that needs to happen?!"

"Zootopia, Vostox, Obreigh, it doesn't matter." Whiskers said as he waved a black paw in the air.

"Vostox?" Runner mused, skeptically, "You expect me to believe that you would launch a nuclear attack on your own capital?"

"You assume that because I am a Schevite that I would not strike my own homeland?" he chuckled, shaking his head. "If it would serve my purpose to demonstrate the power of cobalt weapons, I would have done so. And whether it's nuclear weapons, environmental weapons or even just rioting, it all boils down to one thing: conflict."

Runner paused for a moment, putting his drink down on the coffee table in front of him. "You're asking… why I try to stop conflict?"

"What I'm doing is simply causing conflict, no?" Whiskers put down his drink as well. "The scale of what I'm doing is much greater, of course. But it's still just conflict."

"I don't think I understand…" Runner said, a little surprised at himself that he was expecting anything more than the ravings of a lunatic to spill forth from his enemy. "What you're doing is destroying an entire city and everyone in it. I can't really agree that all you're doing is causing 'conflict.'"

"I won't argue that what I'm doing is not a horrible thing, but I am not insane."

Runner scoffed hardily at the notion.

"But what happens when conflict becomes so great? When we destroy ourselves?" Whiskers continued his rambling. "Do we not adapt? Do we not rebuild? To learn from our mistakes and come out stronger for it?"

"You're dropping a salted bomb!" Whatever the insane panther was trying to get at, he wasn't interested in his bullshit. "It's designed to prevent rebuilding! Or anyone even having a chance of living in that area ever again!"

Whiskers shook his head, snickering. A snicker that filled Runner with contempt.

"You're running out of time, Jack." Whiskers slowly reached into his overcoat with one paw, "You just don't get it, maybe we'll save this discussion for another day, when you're not so naïve. How about we make things interesting…?" He pulled the revolver out and showed it off briefly before setting it on the table next to their drinks. He grinned menacingly, "I am now unarmed, surely you'll be showing me those legendary skills any second now."

Whatever Whiskers intended him to do, whatever gesture he was trying to imply, Runner had had enough. He slid his ring slightly and pressed one of the buttons.

The device that Whiskers had pocketed earlier began to emit a long beep. "What?!" He exclaimed. The was no time to do much in reaction before the electric discharge of the device caused his whole body to seize. "Nrgh!" He convulsed, twitched, and writhed until he ended up on the floor.

Runner immediately leapt from the couch, grabbing the revolver that was almost too large for him to hold properly, and rushed toward the computer that looked out the panoramic window.

"C," Runner said after activating his embedded radio, "How much time left?"

"You've got eight minutes, Runner." C replied back, "You've got to hurry!"

"I'm at Whiskershreik's computer, he's still conscious," Runners heart was beating out of his chest. There was no room for error, any slip up would result in the deaths of millions of mammals.

"Calm down," C said reassuringly, yet sternly, "You've got to disable the particle shielding on the ICBM, and you'll need to lower its trajectory, it's flying too high for the Conifer to affect it."

"Got it, I'm looking…" Runner recalled what intel showed about how Whiskers' computer should look like. He input the new trajectory and put in the order to eject the shielding panels. "The order is transmitting."

"Good," C said, "Now, just keep Whiskershreik alive. We can't allow him to do anything drastic."

Runner looked back at the black panther, still writhing on the floor, a look of pain and resentment on his face.

The computer made a sound, signifying that the orders had transmitted and the missile was adjusting itself.

"Runner," C said, a hint of relief in her voice. "We're registering that the missile has jettisoned its shielding panels, now it just needs to come into range."

Whiskers stopped convulsing, he had managed to shake the device away from his coat pocket and was recovering.

Runner hopped over to the panther, gun pointed.

"It's all over, Whiskers." Runner said, allowing a smug grin to overtake his face.

"Ah, so…" Whiskers tried to reply, but labored to do so, "So it seems. Well done, Jack."

What was this attitude? Was it simply an insane mammal giving an insane congratulations? Or perhaps…

"How does it feel?" Whiskers spoke as if this defeat was planned, or… at the very least, unsurprising. "How does it feel to beat me yet again?"

Runner humphed, being careful to watch the room for any unexpected surprises. "It feels the same as last time, and the time before that. I'll stop you as many times as it takes."

"Then why not make this time the last?" He replied, groaning as he got back to his feet and sat back down in the arm chair. "Do it, Jack. If the world truly has no need for conflict, then do it, pull the trigger and put a stop to my madness once and for all. Put a bullet in my brain, bring peace to the world forever!"

Raising an eyebrow, Runner clicked the ring on his finger. He never took his eyes off of the rambling cat.

"C, what's the status of the missile?"

"You did it, Runner." C confirmed, the celebrated sounds of other voices in the command submarine were apparent, "The Conifer was able to over-excite the fission primary in the first stage of the warhead. Detonation is no longer possible."

"So it's done…" Runner breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

"Yes, the missile's thrusters are being over-burned to push its trajectory over Zootopia Sound, it'll fall harmlessly into the bay… What about Whiskershreik? Is he still conscious?"

Whiskers hadn't moved, he was still grinning, politely waiting for Runner to finish his conversation.

"He is," Runner confirmed, "I have him at gunpoint, the rest of the base is unaware."

"Understood, the sub will surface at the extraction point. SATR will come in later to clean up the base."

"Got it."

"Runner, listen. I know what you're probably going to do, and this isn't an order. But the immediate termination of Whiskershreik has been authorized."

Runner hummed to himself, then ended the transmission.

"So… what did your commander say?" Whiskers asked, holding his hands in the air expectantly. "Are you going to kill me this time? I'm completely defenseless, a perfect target."

Taking a few seconds to think, Runner pulled back the hammer on the revolver. "If I don't kill you now, we'll be back at this all over again."

"A studious answer," Whiskers mocked in return, "You've failed to kill me up to this point. Now you must correct that error."

What exactly was Whiskers getting at? Did he want to die? Maybe his pride was just so irreparably damaged that he thought it best to be ended by his arch-nemesis. Whatever the case was—

There was no more time to think.

"What are you doing?" Whiskers hissed quietly into his coat's collar. "Shoot him now!"

"Wha—?!" Runner scanned the room, but it came quickly. A hole appeared in the window, it was almost silent. Runner's instinct kicked in, before he realized what had happened his body had threw itself behind cover: the nearby kitchen counter.

"Damnit! She missed, ugh, stupid fox!" Whiskers cursed, unseen.

Runner readied the overly large weapon. While he was unequipped, and wholly unprepared to deal with a sniper, he needed to prevent Whiskers from escaping. He peeked around the corner of the counter, careful not to expose himself to the window. A swipe came, a massive clawed paw. It caught him on the underside of his chin, scratching him; the shear force of the blow sent him and the revolver arcing across the room. Runner recovered and landed on his feet, albeit weaponless.

Before him stood Whiskershreik, pointing another revolver at him.

"I must confess," Whiskers began, "I always carry more than one weapon. I was never defenseless, Jack."

"I can't tell you that I'm surprised," Runner quickly realized that not only was another revolver being pointed at him, but he was in full view of the window.

"Stand up." Whiskers demanded calmly, cocking the hammer on his gun.

Complying, he raised his paws, knowing he was putting himself in the sights of another unseen weapon, a perilous situation. Just in case, he quickly checked himself for a gunshot wound, but found nothing.

"I'm surprised," Whiskers said smugly. "You know me well enough to know that I always have a back-up plan. Did you really think I would allow myself to be caught defenseless?"

"It doesn't matter any more," Runner shook his head, "You've lost, the missile has been stopped and SATR is already on its way to destroy this place. Shoot me if you want, all that matters is that Zootopia is safe."

Whiskers chuckled, "You really think this is over? That I would put in all this effort for a single warhead?"

"What?" Runner's heart sank, he should've known. "What are you saying?"

"We've finally developed a missile that can travel, unharmed, through the influence range of your precious Conifer. It would be a shame to waste that technology."

"But why Zootopia? Why are you so obsessed with destroying Zootopia?"

"Ah," He tilted a brow in response, "It's not the city I'm after, I want to destroy the Conifer. I will show the world that no one is safe. I will show everyone that the world still needs mammals like us."

Mammals like us? Runner's mind raced for meaning, Why am I even trying to find reason in this lunatic's ramblings?

"Ah, but you've got me by my weakness, you of all mammals know that I love the sound of my own voice. Time to end this, Jack." Whiskers grinned, he leaned to speak into his shirt collar, "Kill him. This time, don't miss."

Runner didn't have time to think, another hole appeared silently in the window, his heart skipped a beat, he slammed his eyes shut, expecting to feel some sign that he was shot.

"Argh!" Whiskers screamed, his gun tumbled to the floor, "My hand!"

Runner opened his eyes, the sniper had missed again.

Whiskers cradled his hand, that sniper bullet had passed through it and impacted the wall opposite. He swiveled his head back to the window in anguish, and a spark of realization drew over his face. He scowled, staggered back, and retreated from Runner, abandoning his bravado.

"This isn't over, we'll meet again!" Whiskers promised as he ran towards what appeared to be a safe room on the far side, "All men, full alert!"

An alarm blared, cutting sharply into Runners' acute hearing, he dropped his ears to help with the pain, to little avail. He quickly picked up the bloody revolver on the floor, just as the door to the room burst open revealing the two tiger guards that had him captive earlier. Time appeared to slow, there was nowhere close enough to take cover, both tigers had their weapons drawn and were ready to fire. The alarm stopped sounding.

"Get down!" An unknown female voice shouted from his radio.

Again, he found himself driven by instincts, his body dived toward the floor. Fully prone, he then moved to aim the revolver at the two guards.

One slumped to the floor, a bullet wound already in his forehead, the other, gurgled, clutching his bleeding throat, quickly losing consciousness. Then, he too slumped unpleasantly to the floor, bleeding out.

Runner got to his feet and scanned the room for the black panther, but the door to the safe room was already sealed. He had escaped, again.

Runner clicked his ring, trying to raise the female voice that had warned him. The transmission was accepted.

"Who is this?!" He said demanded.

Silence.

"You helped me, why?" He continued to question, desperate for answers. "How did you get my radio frequency?"

More silence.

"Answer me!"

The transmission cut, and another came in.

"Runner! Get out of there!" C's familiar voice shouted back, "The whole base is on high alert! You've got multiple targets heading to your position!"

"C, there's a sniper here, sounded like they defected. They shot at Whiskershreik and took out two of the guards."

"That's not possible, there are no other operatives that…" C paused, "We don't have time to worry about that now, thank your stars that they're on your side and get to the extraction point now!"

"Fine, I'm on my way."

— End Transmission —