Nick Wilde would only have been twice as scared had Koslov not notified the fox before sending the car.
His outdated Nokia started ringing just as the fox was dazedly climbing out his drawer bed. The shock of the sudden ringtone sent his head shooting straight up into the bottom of the drawer above. There was a thud, a nasty headache, a fierce zap from the collar and a slew of curses as he toppled out and hit the floor. As he sat there, rubbing his skull and making a mental note to sweep the floor as soon as he could afford a broom, the phone went to voicemail.
Nick cursed one more time before crossing the basement and climbing onto the wooden crate. The sink was old and cracked, but it did its job and filled with water so he could brush his teeth, scrub his face and brush his fur. After brushing his dark brown tail to perfection, Nick took a good long look at the mirror.
It was just another ordinary morning in the proverbial gutter. Another day as a third class citizen. But not for long.
The phone rang again just as he was reaching for his towel. Dripping, grimacing, Nick jumped down from the crate and snatched the phone from its own resting spot on the stool.
"Yes?" He asked.
"Nicholas, we need to talk."
Nick snapped to attention, the warning beep of his collar hitting his ear. "Koslov!"
"A car will arrive outside your apartment building at seven. Make sure you are home."
"But sir, I'm working 'til six today!" Nick immediately smacked himself for protesting.
"Seven pm, Nicholas."
"Oh, that works."
"Seven pm, outside your apartment building."
"White limo as usual, right?"
Koslov answered by hanging up.
Nick exhaled nervously and put the phone back down. Something was wrong, otherwise Koslov wouldn't be sending someone to pick him up. Nick's only comfort was that it didn't seem like something was you-screwed-up-big-time-prepare-to-get-iced-wrong, otherwise polar bears in tracksuits would be tearing down his door right now. More likely Koslov was having some minor concerns about the Wilde Times project and was summoning Nick to provide the necessary assurance. That didn't stop the fox from being worried, though.
But right now, he had to focus on getting to work on time.
He pulled off his drawer bed pants, tossed them into the drawer and put on his uniform. Not for the first time, he grimaced at how it looked in the mirror; white with lime green stripes. It wouldn't be so bad if there weren't so many stripes, and the pay was worth having to wear the damn thing. At least he had Finnick to share in his suffering. Nick put on the finishing touches, a watch he had inherited from his dad and a red handkerchief made by his mom, and set off for work. Maybe this time he could get on the bus before the gerbils showed up in their ugly blue miniature.
Savanna Central was, in more ways than one, the base district of Zootopia. There was nothing thematic about it, a concrete jungle of apartment buildings, street cafes and administrative offices. That was just in the outer reaches of the district. In the central area of Savanna Central were the glassy skyscrapers and government buildings. Nick rarely went there, even if it did look beautiful at night; he would just get hard faces, insults and police harassment when did. Foxes were seldom welcome in the heart of Zootopia, unless it was to spend a night behind bars.
Nick walked the usual route, two blocks from the building to the bus stop. There weren't many prey mammals about on this particular morning. For Nick, this was one of the better ones. Less prey meant less stink-eye, and if he had a dollar for every stink-eye he got, he wouldn't need Wild Times. He reached the bus stop and leaned against the pole. The bus to Sahara Square should be pulling up any minute.
Somewhere further down the street, he heard a tiny toot-toot.
"Aw shit." Nick quickly curled his tail around himself and resisted the urge to acknowledge his harassers' presence. Those grubby little gerbils were not going to get him. Not today. Not when he literally had bigger things to worry about.
He heard the toot-toot again, and this time Nick turned to look. That hadn't really sounded like the gerbils' car. He heard the sound again, coming from a small three-wheeled white vehicle near the street corner. The traffic cones and a blue light on the roof told him it was a meter maid cart, and it was just the right size for a mammal his size, maybe a little smaller. That could only mean one thing, Nick thought; the ZPD's token bunny was on the prowl.
He'd read about her in the papers, but had yet to meet her in person. Judith 'Judy' Hopps was her name, and she had been assigned to Precinct One two months ago. When he'd last heard about her, she had been assigned to parking duty. Nick tried to remember what she'd looked like on the front page. Large purple eyes and a huge smile as she faced the camera in the formal uniform she'd worn for her graduation. She had a distinctive appearance, so it shouldn't be too hard for Nick to recognize her and run for it if he had to. Then again, he thought with a smirk, meter maids like her had no real power over him, not when he didn't even have a car to ticket.
The joke-mobile was empty and Nick hoped that the bunny wouldn't come across Finnick's van any time soon. The fennec was one more parking violation away from a court summons, and he had way too many unpaid tickets to afford a lawyer.
In any case, it was a false alarm. Nick relaxed and curled his tail. And that was when a rodent sized car drove right over it.
Zzzzt!
The shock was sharp and swift, and it made every hair on the fox's body stick up. The squeaky sound of cackling gerbils grated on his ears. He saw a familiar car full of the fucking things speeding along the tarmac.
Nick felt a growl rumbling in his throat. His collar beeped, but he ignored the warning. Before he knew it he was stepping into the quiet street, ready to verbally eviscerate the rodents.
The second shock was brutal. His legs gave out and he tumbled right into the street, right into the path of an oncoming nut delivery truck. The squirrel at the wheel barely had time to jerk the wheel. There was an ear-rending screech as the entire toy-sized truck swerved. It was going to crash into Nick. He knew it was going to crash. A pillar of grey and blue dropped to the ground in between Nick and the truck. A ticket pad clattered on the tarmac as two arms reached out. The truck hit the small figure head on, pushing them a foot back into Nick's gut. The fox had the wind knocked out of him, but the truck was stopped.
Wheezing like a smoker, Nick looked up to see what kind of mammal had just stopped a truck only half their size.
The meter maid released the truck and bent down to check on the driver. Nick saw the long black tipped ears and the white cottontail, and his jaw dropped.
A bunny.
The bunny.
The ZPD's token bunny had just stopped a truck within nothing but their own body.
"Are you alright?" Judy called into the truck.
Nick tilted his head.
"I'm alright!" The squirrel squeaked.
"You sure? No neck pain?"
The squirrel must have shook his head, for the bunny was satisfied enough to step away from the truck so he could get out and check on his load. Judy retrieved her ticket pad, and her relieved smile became a scowl as her distinct purple eyes fell on the fallen fox.
Oh great, here it comes…
"What were you thinking?" She coldly asked.
Nick kept his poker face, rubbing his gut as he got up. "Hey, all's well that ends well, right?"
"I'm sorry, but is this a joke to you, fox? That poor squirrel could have been killed!" Judy pulled out a pen and started writing on the pad.
There it was. 'Fox.' Typical prey cop.
Make that prey meter maid.
"First of all, it's Mr. Wilde." Nick crossed his arms and smirked. "Second of all, you can't fine me for this, meter maid."
The pen froze. "Excuse me?"
"You heard." Nick crossed his arms and smiled down at her. "Meter maids are good for one thing and one thing only; leeching law-abiding citizens of their hard-earned money through ridiculous parking fines numbering in the hundreds."
Judy crossed her own arms and stared at him with lidded eyes, waiting for him to continue. "You can't touch for something I didn't do, Carrots. I don't even have a car."
Judy's eye twitched. "You going to want to refrain from calling me 'Carrots,' Mr. Wilde."
"My bad, I just assumed you came from some little carrot-choked Podunk."
Judy's response was disappointingly blunt. "Uh, no. I'm from Bunnyburrow."
Nick leaned against the bus stop's pole, more than ready to give this bunny rabbit the dose of reality she deserved. "Okay, tell me if this story sounds familiar. A naïve little hick with good grades and big ideas decides, 'Look at me, I'm gonna move to Zootopia where prey live in safety and preds are kept in check. Only to find, whoopsie, we don't all get along. And that dream of becoming a big city cop? Double whoopsie! She's a meter maid. And whoospie number three-sie, nobody cares about her or her dreams. And soon enough those dreams die and our bunny sinks into emotional and literal squalor, until finally she has no choice but to go back home with that cute fuzzy-wuzzy tail between her legs to become… you're from Bunnyburrow, it that what you said?"
Judy's expression had not changed once during his monologue. "If you think I'm going to go back home and become a carrot farmer, then you're not as sly as you think you are."
Nick was getting pissed now. He bent down to her level. "All right, look, everyone comes to Zootopia thinking they can be anything they want. Well, you can't. You only be what you are. Sly fox. Dumb bunny."
Judy finally gave the reaction he was wanting. She scowled and brought her pen and pad back together. "You just earned yourself the maximum fine."
Nick rolled his eyes. How was she not getting it? "Did you fall out of that three-wheeled joke mobile and land on your head, Carrots? Only a real cop can issue non-parking related tickets."
"And you are right." Judy replied cheerfully. With her pen hand, she gave a short wave. "Hi, Officer Mabel!"
When Nick looked behind him, he saw a gangly, wrinkly old goat in an orange vest climbing into the cart further down the street. At the sound of Judy's cry, she poked her head back out and waved back. "Hi, Officer Hopps! Congrats on that promotion!" She ducked back into the cart and slowly drove off.
Nick's blood ran cold. When he turned back round, Judy was already holding out a ticket.
"Tell me if this story sounds familiar." Nick had no idea that a bunny could look this smug. "A careless old fox nearly causes a traffic accident and tries to get out of a fine by belittling a powerless little meter maid. Only to find, whoopsie, she's not a meter maid anymore. And what you said about this incident not being your fault? Double whoopsie, this wouldn't have happened if you hadn't decided to jaywalk in front of an oncoming vehicle. And whoopsie number three-sie, that impressive little speech of yours has just earned you a two hundred and fifty dollar fine. If you have a grievance, you may contest your citation in traffic court. And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to check on the squirrel you almost killed."
Two hundred and fifty dollars. There goes the money for the Urine Analyzer.
When the astounded Nick didn't move to take the ticket, Judy tucked it into his belt and strode back to the nut truck.
Nick stood there, speechless, until he heard the rumble of the bus finally arriving. He shot Judy one last dirty look before climbing on, pulling out a wallet, and paying the fare.
Nick sat at the very back of the bus so he could count the bills. Just twenty-four dollars in total, not enough to cover the fine but enough to get the last laugh.
"Whoopsie number four-sie… you didn't stay out of pinching distance."
His smug satisfaction didn't last after he made it to Bug-Burga three minutes late, which his asshat boar of a boss did not take well. After a minute of shouting, threatening, and vowing to expose whatever shady scheme the fox was planning, Mr. Tuskerson took away his wages for the day and sent him to sweep the parking lot as punishment. It was a crappy start to a crappy shift, and it didn't help at all when he was forced to sweep all the way through lunch. It also didn't help that Finnick had called in sick, which explained why the pig was even moodier than usual. Being the biggest predator serving establishment in the city, Bug-Burga also had one of the biggest parking lots, which wasn't good for one of the smallest predators. After nine hours in the horrendous heat of a summer day in Sahara Square, sweeping discarded junk food boxes, broken glass, and dried vomit with his fox-sized broom, Nick managed to finish just before the end of his shift at six. Mr. Tuskerson didn't let him clock out without letting him know just what would happen if he was late again. Sweaty, grubby, immensely unhappy, Nick used a little more of Judy's money for the return fare. This time he felt no satisfaction.
Nick nearly had a heart attack when he got home to find a massive white limousine outside the building, waiting for him.
"Everything's cool." Nick muttered to himself as he slowly approached the limo. "Everything is totally cool."
They were just here to talk about how the construction was progressing. That was all. Nothing to worry about.
Nothing. At. All.
The passenger door opened as Nick drew closer, unleashing a torrent of frigid air upon the fox. White mist erupted out, eventually clearing to reveal the big bear himself, one leg over the other, arms splayed over the top of the backrests.
Oh crap.
"Nicholas." Koslov grunted, his face impassive.
"Mr. Koslov." Nick replied meekly. He dug his paws into his pockets, wrapping his left around his phone. If things went south, he might be able to get away long enough to warn Finnick and Honey.
"Easy, Nicholas. I just came for an update." Koslov almost sounded friendly. "Get in the car."
Nick obeyed, taking his place in the large seat opposite Koslov. The sudden change from Sahara heat to Tundra cold was not a pleasant sensation. The car began to move, going at a leisurely pace as it toured the streets of Savanna Central.
Silence filled the car for a while. Nick stared at Koslov, careful to avoid eye contact. The polar bear was so still he could almost pass for a stuffed mammal. A stuffed mammal that had been made by a deranged psycho and left in the freezer for too long. "So… how's it going?" He dared to ask, putting on the biggest, most convincing grin he could muster. "'Gotta say, it's 'ice' to see you, Koslov."
Koslov grabbed a bottle of white wine from a nearby ice bucket, filled a fancy thick glass, and drained its entire contents before answering.
"Forgive my standoffishness, Nicholas. I received some disappointing news this morning."
Nick decided it was best to drop the cheery guy act. "Did I do something wrong?"
"This news is not related to you, Nicholas. And that is all you will know on the matter."
Nick lowered his head, getting the hint.
"Nicholas, I asked for an update."
"Oh, yeah!" Nick straightened his back and his tie. "It's all going according to schedule. We just need to put the finishing touches on the Laser Tag and the Howl Along and then construction will be finished. Then we just need to add three weeks on top of that to make sure everything's safe and ready for the big opening."
"And the funding?"
"We're still in the green, rest assured."
"I am not."
Nick felt his blood freeze like the ice in the bucket. Once upon a time, this same polar bear had gutted a high-ranking member of the Roarssian Mafia. "Whuh-why not, sir?"
"I sent some boys to check up on the site, and they reported back that you are missing something."
"What did I miss?"
Koslov began to refill his glass. "Want one?"
"It's a bit early for me, thanks."
Koslov nodded slightly and put the bottle back in the bucket. Nick's ears recoiled from the harsh sound of glass and ice. "Do you remember what you told me back when we first began this endeavor, Nicholas? What convinced me to provide the funding?"
"I promised you the business would be discreet." Nick said. His eyes went wide as it clicked. "Oh, you mean the secret entrance!"
"The building you chose to open your clinic is still a derelict, Nicholas."
"We've cleaned and renovated every inch of it, sir." Nick insisted.
"Yes, but where is the equipment?" The irritation was apparent now.
"Oh." Nick cringed inwardly.
"In your defense, that is the only thing that concerns me. What seems to be the trouble?"
"I think you know, sir."
"Nicholas."
Nick winced. Koslov was an understanding crime boss, but he wasn't that understanding. "No-one will provide the equipment sir. Every mammal who has we what need is a prey mammal."
Koslov scowled. "Not all of them."
Nick suppressed a shiver. "Is there someone in the black market, sir? I didn't know there were any predators who supplied medical equipment."
Koslov seemed to roll his eyes. Nick wasn't sure, but the bear's ears had definitely tilted upward for a second or two. "You know who I'm talking about, Nicholas. Someone who used to work alongside you wrapping bug burgers."
When it clicked, Nick's heart sank. No. No way. He was not getting him involved in this. "Sir, I'm not so sure that's a good idea. He's just a housekeeper."
"A housekeeper working in the residence of one of the biggest supplier of medical equipment in the country."
"He doesn't even know about Wild Times!" Technically he didn't know that Nick was behind it, but the one time Nick had brought up the possibility of the secret amusement park he'd panicked at the possible consequences of getting caught. Nick had kept quiet about his secret project ever since.
"He doesn't have to. You need the equipment for your clinic. His employer can provide that."
Nick stood up, hackles raised. "Do I need to remind you of who he works for?!"
Koslov's collar beeped.
Nick's flare of anger extinguished under the ice-cold glare of the polar bear. No one stands up to Koslov. Not in his own car. Not unless they have a death wish. This bear had spilled a goat's guts all over the floor of a Roarssian bar. Finnick had been deadly serious when he'd told Nick the story.
For a few seconds, Nick was sure Koslov was going to strike him down. His expression unchanging, Koslov raised a paw. The limo slowed to a stop.
"I know who he works for, Nicholas." Koslov spoke as the driver got out to open the door. "And that is why you will need to be careful when you speak with him."
Nick raked his claws through the fur on his head. "Sir, seriously. Find someone else."
"There is no-one else, you admitted it yourself." Koslov leaned forward slightly, a steely glint in his eyes. "Unless this expensive endeavor has been a lost cause from the start."
Don't panic, Nick. You must not panic.
"Just give me a couple of days. If I don't find someone else, I'll talk to him."
The door opened, but Nick stayed put. No-one left the car without Koslov's permission, especially if they'd upset him.
"Two days. After that, five days to get the equipment. If you have zilch by then, I break your face."
Nick's collar beeped. Koslov fell silent. Taking the hint, Nick jumped out the car as fast as he could without making it look like he was fleeing.
Seven days. One week to get his clinic up and running, or he was screwed. And he had to try and do it without the big guy.
Perfect end to a perfect day.
