Nick rushed forward. The call had just come over the radio that the final suspect had apparently surrendered to SWAT officers and now all available units were moving in to secure the scene. What looked like three cars randomly parked in the middle of a suburban Street quickly evolved into a war zone as Nick got closer.
The SWAT team had already forced the suspect to the ground and was busy checking the vehicles for other possible suspects. Other officers managed to get cuffs on the wolf, but the wolf still wasn't going down easily. Though he had surrendered, the wolf continued to struggle, forcing several of the larger officers to basically stand on him to keep him under control.
Nick moved in close and reached toward the would-be bandit's mask, which still covered his face. In one swift motion, Nick managed to pull the mask off of the suspect. He took a step back and looked at the face of the animal who had turned the quiet street into a firefight.
The wolf's dark gray fur was wet and matted from sweat and blood from a gaze wound the suspect had endured some time during the shootout. Also damp, Nick noted, was the black ski mask in his hand. Nick let the mask drop from his hand while he continued to study the criminal. He then noticed the multiple gunshot to the suspect's legs. The SWAT officers must've seen a gap in the gunman's body armor and managed to exploit that weakness during the short gunfight.
No wonder he gave up.
"Just finish it!" The wolf shouted at the group of officers around him, though Nick could hear pain in his voice. "Just finish it and put a bullet in my head!" As he spoke, he started straining against his cuffs. One of the SWAT officers walked up and pressed the barrel of his weapon against the suspect's head.
"Stop moving!" he shouted. Nick looked up at the officer and recognized him from that morning. The wolf still wore his black tactical gear and a black helmet that sat awkwardly on his head with the chin strap unbuckled. Despite the fact that SWAT had taken their sweet time getting into the action, Nick had to admit they did their job well once they actually showed up. The officer looked in Nick's direction.
"Hey, man, you OK?" he asked with a look of concern on his face.
"Well, as good as anyone could be," Nick shrugged in response.
"No, you need to get patched up," The wolf replied. "An ambulance will be here in five." Nick looked down at himself for the first time since the shootout started. His blue uniform now looked more gray, as did his fur, both covered in a fine layer of dirt and both damp with sweat. Little bits of asphalt and chips of glass from his police car were trapped in his fur.
As the adrenaline rush began to subside, a sharp pain began to grow in his left leg. Nick looked down and saw his blood-stained leg. He had nearly forgotten he was even shot, but now the pain had returned and Nick started to move with a pronounced limp.
"Yeah," Nick answered as he winced, "You may be right about that." It wasn't long before Nick climbed into an ambulance that was packed with other injured police officers. After an uncomfortable ride to the hospital, Nick climbed out into the emergency room of the Zootopia General Hospital.
Being one of the few officers with an actually gunshot wound, Nick found himself quickly pushed to the front of the line. Nick was relieved to learn that the injury wasn't nearly as bad as it looked and would only require a few stitches and some pain medication. The doctor told Nick he would back to normal in just a few weeks.
"Hey, Doc, you wouldn't happen to know where my partner is would you?" Nick asked as the doctor finished applying the stitches. The lion looked up questioningly. "Officer Judy Hopps," Nick clarified.
"Oh, yes, she was rushed into surgery. Still there if I'm not mistaken."
"Is there any chance I can see her?" Nick asked. The lion pondered for a few seconds.
"You can go to recovery room three, down the hall, take a left, third door on the right." the doctor said. "Whenever the surgery's over, that's where they'll take her. Though she may not wake up for hours."
"I get that," Nick answered quickly. "I just want to know she's OK." Nick began to stand, but winced when his tried to put pressure on his leg. "Ah... Hey, could I have one of those... things..." Nick said as he pointed toward a pair of crutches in the corner, the word escaping his mind.
"Oh, of course," the doctor answered as he handed Nick the crutches. Nick began to walk out of room, just to stick his head back in.
"Crutches!" he shouted. "Lost the word for a moment there."
Nick hobbled toward recovery room three, remembering the doctor's directions. He suddenly he heard sounds of commotion behind him. Nick slowly turned. A group of doctors rushed down the hall, surrounding a gurney with a body on it.
"Which OR is open?" one of the nurses asked.
"I don't have a pulse!" another added.
As the gurney rolled by, Nick could see the face of the second, now unconscious gunman. It didn't sound good for him. Nick almost felt anger well in his stomach. That wolf had tried to kill him multiple times, ditched his partner to save his own hide, and brought everyone's lives to a screeching halt in mere moments. If he didn't make it, there would be no one left to answer for the morning's carnage. Nick tried to push those thoughts from head as he moved closer to the recovery room and he started going back through the day's events. There would be a mountain of paperwork to do and Nick would need a clear version of events.
Before that, though, he needed to see his partner.
