Chapter 12: Wednesday's Child, Revisited

0515 hours, Police Vehicles Garage, Precinct 1

Nick leaned against the APC[1] and slurped catnip tea through a straw. A quarter of a 24 oz. cup of catnip tea.

"Careful, Wilde – unless you plan on 'holding it in between planet falls'. That stuff will catch up with you," Profaci said, as he strode to his own specified "gathering point".

Nick glared at the six foot tall wolf, but took no other action. It was far too early in the morning – and the lupine LEO towered over Nick under the best of circumstances: in Profaci's current body-armor-and-Kevlar-helmet-with-two-meter-tall-riot-shield garb, he looked more like a lupine tank. That Nick was also sweating in his own equivalent garb (minus the riot shield) didn't make matters any more pleasant.

The DEA "first-in" teams were gathered next to their own APCs; the twenty odd rhinos were decked out with almost as much armor as their APCs. Nick looked them over and shook his head. This was more of a military operation than a police one. He could pick out two MBI agents with each eight man DEA "first-in" team – the MBI agents were all wolves. Big wolves, but still wolves – and the rhinos of DEA all seemed to be larger versions of McHorn, dwarfing even that huge officer.

He was able to spot Francine, looking intimidated by the overwhelming mass of the DEA rhinos, and waved. She returned the friendly wave, but headed for her own gather point rather than closing with the fellow ZPD officer to pass a few minutes in chit-chat.

Nick slurped up another six or seven ounces of catnip tea, and tried to spot either Fuchs or Hopps in the gathering crowd. They were to be in the "command" APC, working with senior field agent Skully to coordinate this "op". He checked his watch; no, it wasn't 0530 … yet. They were supposed to move out at 0540, and hit all three suspected drug labs in a coordinated move at 0605 hours.

Someone tapped him on his shoulder, and he spun around to find himself nose-to-nose with Officer Fuchs.

"Didn't think I could just sneak up on you like that," Fuchs said.

"I was distracted," Nick said. "Have you seen Hopps in this budding Charlie-Foxtrot[2], yet?"

"Language, Nick," a familiar voice said from behind the fox.

Nick spun around, and found himself staring at the top of a Kevlar helmet. He looked down, and saw that Hopps had bundled up in Kevlar body armor.

"It's lighter and less cumbersome than the dragonscale 'stuff' that Fuchs and you have to wear. But it still protects a lot better than the neoprene bodysuit that I normally wear," Hopps said.

Fuchs giggled. "You actually make that horrendous assemblage look good, Lieutenant." She stepped away from the APC so she could look at both Wilde and Hopps at the same time, but her focus was definitely on the other fox. "Has she ever been this bundled up in your experience, Wilde?"

Nick shook his head. "There were a few times when it might have been nice, but …"

"Just when, Nick?" Hopps interrupted.

"Oh, when you were flying around the top of that train-drug lab, perhaps," Nick said.

"I'd have been a lot less maneuverable, then, Nick!" Hopps shook her head. "Wouldn't have done."

"'Like a rich armor worn in heat of day, that scald'st with safety[3]'…" Fuchs quoted.

"That has to be from someone, Fuchs," Nick said.

"Only the Bard, Wilde. You should expand your horizon – again," Hopps said.

Nick sighed, popped the top on his cup of catnip tea, and poured the remaining tea down his throat.

"I can't believe how you manage to drink that stuff," Hopps said.

Fuchs giggled. "Give the tod a break, L-T. He's trying to wake up, still. When did you have to get up, anyway, Wilde?"

"I've been up since 0400 hours. But at least I got to bed by 2100 hours last night. Not as much sleep as I might like, but … better than it could have been," Nick replied, crushed the now empty paper cup, and tossed it into a nearby trash can. "Two points!"

Senior Field Agent Ashling Skully strode up to the trio. "Saddle up, people. You know the plan, we move out in two minutes."

Fuchs laughed, and swung into the APC, taking up the driver position. Hopps slid into the gunner position, rapidly adjusting the moveable seat enough to put her in a workable position in the gun blister. Wilde slid into the crew compartment, and managed to wedge himself into the small space for the command and control display. Skully settled down beside him, and plugged in her helmet mounted mike and ear piece. "Just do what I tell you to, Wilde," she said, "and everything will work out just fine."

Nick sighed. "Yes, ma'am," he said, managing to keep his voice level and unemotional.

0600 hours, Command and Control APC

The helmet camera displays from the DEA team leads were up on the three top screens, the two rows of four screens each rotated through the helmet camera displays of the team members. Everything seemed to be going according to plan, which worried Wilde. At whispered command from Skully, Nick switched the display pattern, focusing in all the lower screens on the camera outputs from team 1.

"Team 1, this is Command. You are go in five … four … three … two … one … go, go, GO!" Skully's voice on the command circuit started low and calm, rising up to near shout at the final word.

"Thought it was supposed to be simultaneous…" Nick began to say, and stopped as a large lupine palm smacked the back of his head hard enough to be felt even through the Kevlar helmet.

"Saw something," Skully interrupted. "Team 2, Team 3, this is Command – you are go … weapons free. I repeat, weapons free!"

Nick spun around to face the lupine bitch. "We're police, not…" he started to say, when he was interrupted by a large booming sound drew his attention back to the screens. "What…"

The camera for team 1's lead was down, and the alternate's camera had taken over. Four of the eight cameras for that team were blank, showing only static. The remnants of the "florist" shop were beginning to fall back to earth, like so many gargantuan burning snowflakes. The shop had vanished – along with the two stores to either side.

"Get me teams 2 and 3, Wilde. Now!"

Nick's hands danced across the keyboard, and the cameras for team 2 and 3 came back on in rotation; the morning twilight lit by semi-automatic and fully automatic weapons fire. Every fifth round was tracer, so the screens were lit with an earie tracery of yellow streaks – originating both inside and outside the two other "florist" shops.

"Skully – we need to get a bus – we need multiple busses!" Nick said.

"When the fights done," Skully replied. "Team 2, they're trying to flank you on the left. Send Grover and Mishnik there to cover!" she called out on the command circuit.

"Team 2 acknowledges," came crackling back in their headphones.

0650 hours, Command and Control APC

Nick swallowed. The shooting was over, and he could count fifteen DEA agents, one MBI, and three fellow officers down. He wanted to tear his helmet off and throw away the headset. Instead he just held on, and shook. He know how he smelled – a combination anger, frustration and out-and-out terror. His mouth tasted like a cesspool smelled, and he decided that he could do with a change of underwear. "Can we get some ambulances in now, Senior Field Agent?"

Skully sneered at the fox. "Yes, now. The EMTs won't have to worry about getting their soft furry hides hurt."

Nick stared at the wolf for a long three count before calling in the request. From at least five different emergency centers, as well as the main trauma center in the downtown square. His duties done, for the moment, he turned back towards the lupine female. "Satisfied, Skully?"

"Yes, I am, you stinking voop. Quite satisfied. I got the job done – and we won't have to deal with trials for those sorry sons-of-vixens," she said, barely keeping a snarl out of her voice. "A handful fewer voops and their voop-stink to deal with. Wish it were VVVNMI[4] though."

Nick turned back to the screens, his temper now barely under control. Never let them see that they've gotten to you, he thought.

Just before Shift End, Nick & Judy's Office

"How are you doing on your share of the paperwork, Nick?" Judy asked.

"Doing it, Hopps," Nick grunted. He was hunched over the keyboard, typing and swearing under his breath.

"Are you ok, Nick?" Judy asked, as she hopped out of her chair and began to walk over to Wilde's desk. The fox did not so much as look up from the screen.

"No," he said, a low growl entering his voice.

Judy's nose wiggled and she made a face at the angry scent-cloud that was developing around her vulpine partner. "Want to talk about it?"

"No," he said, the growl louder and more noticeable.

"Ok, do you need to talk about it – and don't say no this time, because even I can tell from your scent that you need to talk to someone about it."

"Just leave me alone, ok? Sensitive subject, and I don't want to talk about it right now," he said, in a voice suddenly devoid of emotion.

2000 hours, Nick Wilde's Apartment

Nick was stretched out on his couch, face down in a large pillow when there was a knock at the door. "Come in, Carrots – you have a key," he called out, his voice only slightly muffled by the pillow.

Hopps hopped over to the couch, followed closely by Edda Fuchs. "You look like crap on a cracker right now, foxie…" she said, as she settled down next to the fox's feet. "And you smell like it, too."

"Thank you, my adoring public," Nick said, his muzzle still buried in the pillow.

"Did you at least enjoy your tennis lesson?" Edda asked.

"Of course I did – I always enjoy being run around like crazy and beaten into the earth by a superior player," he replied.

Edda settled down on the coffee table facing Wilde. "Your brush is a mess, Nick." She sniffed the air. "Did you even bother to shower after your lesson?"

"No, I wasn't expecting company. Just why are the two of you here?"

Judy began playing with the tip of the tod's brush. "You were in such a foul mood at shift end. ADA Carolson said that you were 'in the dumps' when your lesson started, and not much better when it finished. Even though you managed a nice long rally with her – and she said she didn't pull her punches with you, either."

Nick sighed. "Yeah, I did manage to hold my own there a couple of times," he said, as he turned over and sat up.

"So, what got you so down, Nick?" Judy asked.

"The 'V' word. And 'voop stink' comments."

"Ouch!" Edda said. "But you stink of depression and general 'down' emotions right now. Maybe you need to join us for a nightcap? Maybe some ice cream?"

"Ok, ladies, I suppose I could be convinced to join you for ice cream – if you are treating."

Edda and Judy exchanged glances, then both nodded. "If this is a hustle," Judy said, a warning tone in her voice.

"No," Nick replied, "I just … well … I really don't like having things taken away from me – and to be called names that still hurt, on top of the morning massacre … I barely kept my breakfast down," he said, and shuddered.

"Yeah, not fun. But you need to shower first. Then we can go out without making everyone think that you're suicidal," Edda said.

Nick looked at Edda, then at Judy, sighed, and trundled to the bathroom. "I'll be out in about ten or fifteen minutes, if you can wait."


[1] Armored Personnel Carrier.

[2] I will not translate this, in the interest of keeping this story somewhat safe for work. Interested parties might seek out service slang, if the meaning does not come to them immediately. – Author.

[3] Prince Henry, Henry IV, Part 2, Act 4, Scene 5

[4] VVVNMI = Voop Versus Voop, No Mammal Involved.