1.2 - A Leap of Faith

The photo behind the glass and wooden frame was worn and tattered, stained on one corner and torn on another. A large crease ran down the center of the image, which had begun to fade away, at least until it had been encased in glass and preserved forever.

Judy found herself glancing at it more and more often as she sat at the computer desk, taking care of what her boss needed.

It was a photo of her family. It was old, about twenty years or so. Time had treated the image poorly. Judy was about three or four years old when the picture was taken, out on a lake a few hundred miles from the Burrows. The three sat, spread out on a checkered picnic blanket, Judy was sitting in her mother's lap, both beaming with delight. Her father held the camera in one hand, leaning in so he could fit into the frame.

The smiles were genuine. Judy couldn't recall details of the lake or the surrounding forest – she was too young. She did remember the emotion she felt. A kind of pure, blissful delight she hadn't felt since. It emanated through their smiles in the weathered photo. She relived a piece of that memory every time she looked at it.

She heard her boss, a bear, clear his throat from down the hall. Judy quickly turned back towards her computer screen and continued typing up a memo she had been assigned. Her boss looked over her one last time before walking further down, towards the cubicles.

She patted her skirt down before continuing to type. She looked around again.

Judy had been given a small section of the floor, just outside her boss's office. The floor wasn't particularly large, holding no more than thirty, tightly-packed cubicles. The building hadn't undergone any maintenance in some time. The wood paneling along walls were beginning to fall away, revealing the cold, gray concrete beneath. The florescent lights that dotted the ceilings flickered every now and then, and there was a hole through the ceiling in the opposite corner of the room.

She fidgeted in her seat for a moment as her boss returned to his office. He shut the gnarled door behind him before taking a seat at his desk.

Judy looked back at the computer screen. She could feel his eyes on her. Shortly after getting the job, her boss had positioned her desk directly in front of his office. A few weeks later, he changed it so her desk faced away from him. Through his massive, glass windows, he had a perfect, unobstructed view of her.

She hated this. She hated him. She couldn't do anything about it.

As Judy began typing again, she heard the soft sound of footsteps coming towards her. Her ears perked up as she glanced at the hallway. There was a sheep walking towards her at a quick pace – Mimi Flooforn. She had joined the company less than a month ago during the hiring season. She was one of the final applicants, and she managed to land the job.

Judy hadn't seen her much, no more than a handful of times since her first week. She had chosen a spot in the far corner of the floor, where she filled out trucking manifests and confirmed drivers. She mostly kept to herself.

She stopped at Judy's desk and threw something into the small trash bin. Her face was beading with sweat – something was wrong.

Judy inhaled sharply as she looked up. "Mimi, what's going on?"

"Listen, I need you to keep quiet about this." Mimi answered. Her voice was hushed. You're the only one I think I can trust. I-"

"Mimi, if you want to tell me something in private, don't-" Judy said, her voiced hushed. She glanced back at their boss' office. He was turned away, laughing and talking on the phone. She looked back at Mimi. "Don't do it here."

"I already did it." Mimi said. She took a deep breath that seemed to calm her some. "Something's probably going to happen here, in this office, and it's gonna happen soon. All I want you to do is stay out of people's way, just try to blend into the background."

Judy shook her head, clearly confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Just stay back and stay safe, Hopps. You're one of the good ones." Mimi said. She swallowed and glanced at their boss before looking back at her. "I have to go."

As she was about to leave, Mimi leaned into Judy and whispered into her ear. "Check your trash bin."

Frowning slightly, Judy looked on as Mimi quickly walked down the hall and back to her cubicle. Something seemed wrong. Mimi was concerned. Worse, she was serious.

Judy peered into the small, plastic trash bin by her desk. Settled neatly atop an old chip bag, candy wrapper, and pound of shredded paper was a small, compact data drive. Judy reached in and extracted the device, analyzing it.

It was worn and old. Its white, plastic coating had turned a faint yellow, and scratches ran up and down the casing. The metal portion of the drive was also bent awkwardly, in such a way it wouldn't fit into her computer.

As she set it on her desk, a sudden bang echoed through the floor. The door near the front of the office exploded into shards of rotted wood as a team of soldiers stormed in. They quickly filed into the room, armed and shouting a flurry of orders. They were armed with assault rifles, pointing them around the room.

Judy covered her head and pressed her face against the desk. Virtually everyone else did the same, but the soldiers continued shouting. Their orders became more clear. "Put your heads on your desks and don't move a goddamn muscle!"

The team was a hodgepodge of predatory species – wolves, foxes, bears, and lions. As they began to search around the room, Judy's boss emerged from his office. This was met with another outbreak of shouting as the soldiers snapped towards him, aiming their guns and barking orders. Her boss quickly dropped to the carpet. His voice was muffled as he spoke. "What is going on here?"

"Are you the manager of this office?" a lion on the other end of the room asked.

"Yes, of course I am." her boss said. "I just want to know what's going on."

"You may stand, sir." a soldier said. As Judy's boss rose to his feet, the lead soldier, an arctic fox, made his way towards him. Judy covered the data drive with her arm, keeping her head pressed against the cold desk. The soldiers continued to search the room. They seemed to be checking the backs of computers.

The arctic fox began speaking to the boss, this time more quietly. Judy eavesdropped on their conversation. "We have reason to believe a member of a local Resistance chapter has embedded stolen data into their hard drive." he said. "We traced the activity to this office."

"Resistance activity, in my office?"

"I believe so, sir." the fox affirmed. "I doubt you will be implicated in this mess, a man of your nature."

Her bear boss smiled. "Why, thank you."

"We have it sir!" a soldier said from the corner of the room, holding a hard drive. It was from Mimi's desk. The rest of the squadron trained their weapons on Mimi, who sat silently.

They set the drive in a case and closed it. As a number of soldiers walked the hard drive out of the office, the fox walked over to Mimi. Judy raised her head a little in anticipation. She glanced back at the small data drive Mimi had given her. She pushed it behind her keyboard.

The fox stood beside Mimi. The two were about equal in height. Mimi stared straight ahead, not moving a muscle. The fox smiled. "How's it feel, traitor? You failed."

"No, I didn't." Mimi finally said.

The fox slapped her across the face. His claws dug into her face, streaking her with blood. It began to seep into her pure, white wool. Judy felt something turn inside her, something sharp and painful. Tears began to well in Mimi's eyes.

"You will be executed two weeks from now, downtown, in the square, where everyone is gonna watch." the fox continued. He gestured around the rest of the office. "Even them."

A silence hung in the room. Mimi didn't respond. After a minute, the fox sighed before walking away. Disgust was visible on his face. "Get her out of here."

Judy watched as the three remaining soldiers walked Mimi out of the office. One walked behind her, a handgun trained on her head at all times. She heard one of them mutter, "Fuckin' animals."

She glanced back at the data drive. Her boss was announcing something to the rest of the office, but she couldn't make out what. All of her attention was focused on the drive. She picked it up from her desk. She swallowed.

It felt heavier now.

He could see the heat from his breath in the cold. It was very visible, more visible than the breath of most mammals. A byproduct of his higher body temperature, which, sadly, still wasn't doing much on cold evenings like these. His coat did that job just fine.

Benjamin Richardson let out another breath. His eyes twinkled in Zootopia's city lights. His brown tufts of hair ruffled in the cool wind. Just a dozen feet away was six hundred feet of open air. He glanced over the building's ledge. With the fog and the darkness, he couldn't make out the street below. He could only hear the occasional gust of wind and the reverberating sounds of passing cars below.

At this height, the building seemed to sway lightly. This didn't bother him, though. Every now and then, he'd hear the building groan and tremble slightly. The whole thing was waiting to fall apart, held together by weak concrete and rotting, rusty beams.

He checked with the device strapped around his wrist again. The objectives were clear:

Get into the building.

Find and access the main server.

Copy the data.

Escape through any means necessary.

It seemed simple enough. They never turned out that way. Something, somehow, somewhere, would always go wrong. To work the job, you don't need to just be great at completing the objectives – you have to deal with what goes wrong.

And something always went wrong.

Ben crouched down and picked up his helmet. It was his father's, back from when the man fought in the Civil War. It was dinged and scratched up in many areas. Ben had made clear modifications to it. He had built a proper, more modern visor into the helmet. Night-vision goggles had been attached to the sand top, and an auditory aid had been drilled into its sides. For all intents and purposes, it was a brand new piece of body armor.

He had the sight of a wolf, the hearing of a rabbit, and the protection of a rhinoceros. That, in addition to his quick speed, sturdy, flexible frame, and automatic rifle. He was the apex predator.

Ben walked back over to the ledge of the building. Gray, fading walls ran across the face of the structure, eventually blending into the fog below. It was difficult to make out the floor numbering from here – everything looked the same. If the intelligence was indeed correct, then the server room was somewhere on the fiftieth floor. The building was sixty stories tall. He would need to count about ten windows down.

He would have to descend a hundred feet down the front of the building with nothing but a harness and a lot of luck.

He sighed as he slid the helmet on. This was a stupid idea.

Ben zipped open a small backpack by the ledge, revealing a long piece of roping. He walked over and tied one end around a pole. He clamped the other end onto the strap on his uniform, linking him and the rope. He walked over to the building's edge, his back facing the city. He exhaled before activating his night-vision goggles. The darkness turned green as sky remained black. The city was a dancing cacophony of white and light. "Let's do this."

He jumped off the side of the building, shortly before planting his feet on the wall. He started breathing quicker. He looked down. Even through the goggles, the street was obscured by a grayish-green glow.

Ben looked back up. He had already passed one window. Nine to go. As long as he stuck to the space between windows, he should be good.

Nine, eight, seven. He continued to scale down the face of the building. Even with the aid of his gloves, his hands began to ache. Six, five four. His stomach churned with every step he took. The moon was rising now, sporadically casting a dim glow over the city between passing clouds and plumes of smoke and fog. All it would take is a keen eye to spot him. Three, two, one...

He finally stood to the side of a window on the target floor. After descending himself to its height, he leaned to the side and lightly tapped on the glass. It was brittle. That's what happened after freezing every night and thawing every morning for the better part of three decades. He let our a breath of air. "Shit."

If he tried to remove the window carefully, it would more than likely shatter in his hands. Everyone on the surrounding two floors would hear it. Ben looked back down at the smoggy street. "There's a solution."

Ben grabbed the exposed corner of the window and lightly tugged on it. Part of the window popped out of its frame. It was cut in half by a crack that ran down the center. He would have to do this quickly.

In one swift, adept motion, Ben flung the two halves of the window from the frame and out into the open air. He watched as they sailed downwards, eventually vanishing behind the fog. Hopefully, no one happened to be standing just there.

There was now an empty space where the window once sat. He peered inside. There was simply a small, dark room. The door was closed and there didn't seem to be anyone nearby.

Ben carefully walked towards the empty window frame before finally stepping into it. As he gained his footing, he unlatched the rope from his vest. He took a breath as he examined his surroundings. Now, where were the servers?

The floor plans that had been shared with him were rough and incomplete. Every room was an approximation, based on satellite and some UAV imagery. While the drone images would be more detailed than the satellite ones, the city of Zootopia had created a basic no-fly zone. The colorful reconnaissance flights of decades past were impossible now.

He glanced back at the device on his wrist. The basic layout of the floor appeared, drawn in green, straight, digital lines. The server room was somewhere around the middle of the floor. If he could get down the hallway and through the maintenance rooms, he could make it to the servers.

Ben checked his automatic rifle. It was powerful, more than enough to take a fox or wolf in a single shot. Still, their speed and agility made them a threat, and really difficult to hit. Larger animals were typically more of a threat. While slow, rhinos and hippos could take almost an entire cartridge before finally dropping dead. Lions and bears stood between the two types of predators – ferocious, durable, and agile.

He walked towards the door. It was rotted and old – paint was beginning to chip away in many areas. Slinging the rifle around his back, he silently popped the door open slightly. There was an office – Ben must have descended into some kind of storage room. The office was empty, as expected. The military imposed a strict curfew on all non-predators. Only guards should be patrolling the building.

He opened the door fully and quietly walked into the office. He crouched behind one of the desks. It was rather large, clearly made for a larger mammal. There was a computer that sat atop the desk, quietly humming and whirring. Through the dim light of the screensaver, he could make out a framed photo of a male deer and – presumably – his children. They were out by a mountain, probably somewhere up north.

Ben looked away and started down the rows of cubicles. It was strange to think of the prey in Animalia as people that had lives. They were practically an occupied group – oppressed, suppressed, and ignored, but they lived their own lives in their own little bubbles.

It was something to consider, at the very least. To use a word the Animalian government had long banned, the idea humanized them.

He continued at a snail's pace down the office. As he approached the door, he could make out the faint sounds of voices. He peered through a window in the door. The hallway itself was empty. A little ways down the hall, Ben could make out flashing colors and lights behind a window in a door. He wasn't alone here.

Ben glanced back at his wrist. Down the hall and through the maintenance rooms – he would have to discreetly pass the office throwing what looked like a mini-rave.

He silently opened the door and stepped into the hall. It was dark, the only light coming through a window on the opposite end of the hallway. Through the window, he could make out the tops of skyscrapers and buildings.

As he drew closer to the room with all the activity, he crouched to the cold floor and leaned against the wall. Carefully and quietly, he crept along it, eventually passing the door in question. He could hear voices chanting and shouting in there. There was, if he recalled correctly, a game on up in Sahara Square tonight. He really didn't care.

It was a stupid game.

After passing the door, he began to walk more quickly. He still clung to the wall, eventually ending up beside the door to the maintenance rooms. He placed his ear against the door, his hand on the handle. There didn't seem to be any activity going on. He slowly opened the old, steel door, careful not to make a sound.

After successfully opening the door, he entered the maintenance room. He left the door slightly open – a quick path for any potential escape. Something always went wrong.

Using his night-vision helmet, he navigated around the cramped room. It was stuffed with brooms, mops and old buckets of water. Algae and grime lined the cabinets and shelves, both loaded with aging cleaning supplies and wipes.

On the other end of the room was a door. He made his way towards it, still somewhat cautious. He stood up and opened the door, revealing the server room.

It was cold, for one. Massive fans placed along the ceiling, coupled with power air conditioning units dropped the temperature to practically zero degrees. The room was large too, far wider and longer than the office he had made his way through. Anywhere from thirty to forty servers and data-banks lined the room, their green and red lights flashing periodically and sometimes in unison. Only the lights illuminated the dim room.

He looked around for a moment before quickly going towards the central computer. He reached into his pack, unveiling a large, black data drive. He plugged it into the computer. The files began to copy automatically, thanks to Harper back at the base. He would have to thank he later.

The file copying was almost instant. The script on the drive searched for only the most relevant files, copying only a few megabytes worth of information as opposed to several petabytes. Ben had no idea as to how Harper managed to make it work, but she did. She always came through in that sort of way.

He let out a slight sigh as he unplugged the drive. Now, he just had to escape.

The lights were out and the moon hung in the sky, but Judy remained awake under her covers. The entire complex was cut off. Past the early evening, no one could have electricity or water. The rocking of the bed upstairs had stopped a half-hour ago. Their moans had echoed throughout the entire building. They did that every night. Sometimes, she managed to fall asleep during the whole thing. Other times, she wouldn't be able to sleep at all.

This was one of those other times.

She glanced at the flash drive sitting atop her desk. She could only make out its outline in the darkness.

She kept replaying what had happened in the office over and over again in her head. Mimi had slipped the drive, presumably a copy of what the military had confiscated earlier, to her. Judy lied back in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. "But why me?"

Judy had remembered Mimi's words fairly clearly – she was the only one Mimi could trust with the drive. What made her the ideal candidate? What made the rest of her coworkers less trustworthy? These questions continued to bounce around in her head.

Bang, bang, bang.

A fist pounded against the door somewhere down the hall. Still lying down, her ears perked up and her eyes opened some.

Bang, bang, bang.

She heard a voice – muffled behind the wall, but distinctly one of a soldier. "ZDF! Open up!"

Her heart stopped for a moment. She heard more boots shuffle down the weathered floorboard. More pounding could be heard throughout the hall. There must have been six or seven soldiers, all armed, going from door-to-door. She heard a pair of boots continue down the hall – continue towards her.

Judy snapped into action, quickly hopping out of her bed. Her heart was racing. It was dark, but the pale moonlight guided her actions. She grabbed the flash drive and the data it held within, stuffing it into her shirt. Her movements were short and jumpy. She slipped on her shoes and pulled her desk drawer open.

There was a loud rapping on her door. It stopped. "I think this is the one..." she heard someone murmur.

Judy froze for a moment. She quickly dug into the drawer, brandishing a can of predator repellent – it was illegal to possess, but her parents had passed it to her anyways. She quickly popped the cap off and spun the nozzle around, building pressure inside of the can.

Someone pounded on the door again. The entirety of her small room jolted. When she looked over, she saw loose dust falling from the hinges – they were trying to beat it down.

She tossed the can at the base of the door as she sprinted towards the window, holding a pair of dulled scissors. She pushed the glass open and slashed at the screen. The coldness of the air outside hit her like a truck. She felt all of her furs stand up.

Judy stole a glance behind her. The door flew open. There was a silhouette of a red fox standing in the doorway, his body covered in military gear and carrying a rifle, ready in his arms. Their eyes met for the shortest, briefest of moments. Judy saw fear in his eyes. She expected that he saw the same.

The can of repellent exploded into a cloud of chemicals, knocking the fox to the ground as the fumes filled the room. Judy looked back at the open air in front of her. She could hear more soldiers coming down the hall – it was only a matter of time until they arrived.

She had a choice. Was this worth it?

Time seemed to slow down for a moment. If she continued, she was actively putting herself and possibly her family in grave danger. She would be effectively giving her life up – her job, her coworkers, her friends and family.

On the other hand, turning herself in what certainly result in her lifetime imprisonment, if not public execution. It would also render Mimi's sacrifice worthless.

That was strange – considering Mimi's imprisonment a sacrifice. Just a few days ago, she considered the Resistance an aimless, murderous, terrorist faction. They were fighting for something – in a few short days, Mimi would give up her life for that.

She experienced a sense of clarity as the shouting in the hallway grew louder and louder. The choice seemed easy.

Judy jumped.