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The following is a work of fanfiction: there is no intent of this author to violate, transgress, profit from or infringe upon the Copyright and Intellectual Property (IP) rights of the parent Copyright or IP holders of characters, events or locations belonging to the same which may be contained within this work. To reiterate; this is a Derivative Work meant to be used under Fair Use as described in 17 U.S.C. § 101 and § 107.

All language is either through Google Translate, or the site 'Bits'n'Bob-stones'

The Sons of Efrafa

.

Grrr. Stupid, smug fox. "How did you get those pictures?!"

-snerk- "Ms. Montaigne sent them to Zib; she really liked this one with you and Dickie trying to eat cougar sized waffles and whipped cream with cougar sized flatware."

"Argh! Delete that right now!"

"Okey dokey."

Huh? "Wait, that's it?"

"Sure; I mean, Zib sent them to me, so I can just have her resend them. By the way, she says you're forgiven."

-groan- "Oh joy, and all it took was my mortal shaming."

"Relax, Carrots. These are for personal use only; in the dark times to come, I can always look at a picture of you in a baby onesie covered in raspberry sauce and all will be right with the world."

"I'm surprised you aren't planning to share those with Finnick."

"I'm a jerk, Fluff, not a monster. For all his tough talk, Fin's a lightweight when it comes to booze; and once he's drunk, he couldn't keep a secret to save his life. That's how I know he's the one who swapped the rug I was selling to Mr. Big."

"I thought you said you knew it was suspect?"

"I did; I just didn't know how or when the swap happened, and I was committed to the deal by that point. I figured I could play it off. Funny that one decision, the worst I ever made, was one of the best things to ever happen to me. If I hadn't left Mr. Big's employ when I did, I'd be a much different mammal right now, and not for the better."

"I'm surprised you two were still working together after that."

"Oh, he owed me, there's no denying that. He saw where that life was going and wanted me out of the family, but instead he nearly got me killed. That's why I could leverage him into humiliating himself for our hustles. Anyway, you said something that Dickie said got you thinking?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah. He mentioned he was having some issues with trying to get some work done on the Pier; some new fire suppression system is supposed to be installed, but he's waiting on one of the licensed drilling companies to get a small-bore tunneler freed up; there's like only, three in the entire Northwest region, and one is tied up in court with the Unions."

-snort- "You were talking about work, with a multi-millionaire, over omelets and waffles, in borrowed jammies?"

-hmph- "He appreciates that I am a career minded doe. It just took Cat a little while to stop trying to steer the conversation. Anyway, didn't you say once Mr. Big had an in with most of the labor unions in the city?"

"Yeah? What are you thinking?"

"Well, Fru has been going on about… oh don't give me that look; I'm still Little Judy's godmother. I'm not going to stop being nice just because…"

"Because there might be a horrible conflict of interest? I know for a fact that IA is, and likely always will be, looking at the both of us because of our connections to the Bagnoli family."

"I know that Nick, but in this case I think it gives us an in for information; information, like Fru Fru says her dad donated some art pieces worth a few hundred grand a piece for the Charity event next month. Also, Big is named in the Union dispute between 'Dirty-Ratt Diggers' and the Pipefitters Union. I did a little digging myself, and all of D-R-D's contracts are on hold until the litigation is cleared up. If anyone was motivated to help a bunch of crazed mammals drill into the Vault at Lemming Brothers, it would be them."

-Huff- "Okay, we'll forward this theory to Oates and DuPrey. Let the OCT handle the Union connection. The last thing I want right now is to be facing off against the Mob on top of everything else."

"Room; Aten-Hut!"

Ch. 20

It had taken a couple of weeks, but Lilly and Mitch's new place was ready for a proper housewarming party. The building was one of the renovated turn of the century textile mills on Lower Canal St. This put it less than a mile from the Seventh Precinct's Foxburough station house, while Lilly was employed at Reynard's building right next door. The apartment itself was on the third floor, at the corner of the building looking out over the river towards Haresburg.

Moira Lupinski looked around the apartment and whistled. "Very nice, Mitch! I might have to look into taking my detectives test if it affords me a place like this."

"You'd get less than you do as a Sgt. now; we just lucked out in getting in on the ground floor with this place."

Lilly came out of the kitchen, waving a wooden spoon. "Ahahahah! There will be no shop talk tonight. Talk about the neighborhood, the building, the economy, politics or religion, I don't care; but I don't want to hear a single word about police work for the rest of the night."

Moira shrugged. "Fair enough. Here, Lilly; I brought you ice-cream."

The lynx's eyes lit up. "Chocolate-chip Cookie Dough?"

"You know it! Now if it was for Mitch, I'd have gotten a five-gallon tub of Pralines and Di…" There was a sudden knocking at the door.

"I'll get it!" Lilly made her way to the front room, while Mitch gave his former partner a faux-hurt look.

"She gets manna from heaven, but I get 'Wayne's World' punishment food? What did I do to you?"

Moira simply crossed her arms while smirking. "Pine, Street, Station."

"That was like, three years ago!"

"And Gerard in Precinct One's Supply center still hasn't gotten the smell out of my old Anti-Stab vest."

Lilly's voice came from the front foyer. "Mitch! Arms and paws!"

"Coming, dear!" Mitch made his way while grumbling, as Moira followed, chuckling at his antics. When they arrived, they found Nick and Jacob with their heads bowed, holding packages as if they were church offerings. Zib and Val stood behind them rolling their eyes.

"Praise be unto the Life-bringer; may our offerings find favor in your sight!" Jacob took a knee. "I bring Chicken Mole, from Mr. Alvaredo's new place on Clairemont Ave."

Nick then took a knee next to him. "And I bring red wine from Hatches Package store."

Lilly looked haughtily at the two for a second. "I find your offerings acceptable. You may enter."

As the were entering, Zabrina turned to the two males. "Life-bringer?"

Nick pointed to Lilly's swollen belly. "Yeah, she's bringing life."

"And what about me?"

Nick stopped and looked at Zib. "It hadn't come up in conversation. Is… is that a conversation we want to have?" There was hesitancy and hope in his voice.

Zib was about to answer, when the import of the subject hit her full force and she snapped her jaw shut. Glancing around, she saw all eyes were on her and Nicholas. She looked her tod in the eyes. "Yes, but not here, and not now."

He visibly relaxed, but there was a new, almost imperceptible tension in his posture. "Alright. Let's go inside then." In an effort to deflect some of the attention, Nick sidled up to Jacob. "So, how about you two; you've been getting pretty serious. When's the wedding?"

Jacob huffed as he made his way to the couch. "Fishing with dynamite, are we? If it happens, it won't be for a while yet; at the least, not until after my mother's own wedding. Besides, it can't happen until we get mine and Val's mother's together first."

Valerie shivered as she sat down. "I am not looking forward to that conversation."

Zib looked on in concern. "Better you than me, but still; are you not sure, about each other I mean?"

"It's not that." Val leaned on Jacob. "My family's old blood; like, Rautha old blood. My ancestor, El rei Avellaner, helped establish the Lapino people within the Reman Empire after Lapinius Australis' failed rebellion."

Jacob rubbed her back comfortingly. "Yeah, there's still bad blood between Efrafans and Lapinos over that. Avellaner's title in Efrafan is Ela Rah, though he's usually called Elil Rah: 'the Prince of Enemies'."

Everyone was settling into the Winter's living room, while Mitch brought out hors d'oeuvres. "When was that?"

Moira nibbled on a cracker. "Around 2000 years ago. Lapinius was the first Senator of and for the Efrafan people within Rome. He was counting on Reman military support to help oust the ruling Owslafa, but the senator he backed, Julius Caesar I think it was, all but bankrupted the republic in a failed war against Vulpingeterix in Gaul. Caesar had to return to Rome in disgrace just to keep Pompeii from having his holdings seized to pay his debts." She looked at the mammals staring at her. "What? I'm interested in history."

Everyone chuckled at that. Nick turned to his friend. "So, what you're saying is that, because of a hare that died some time before Christ, your parents aren't likely to approve of you two? This isn't going to turn into a Romeo and Juliet situation, is it?"

Val shook her head. "Nothing that drastic, but there's a lot of family pride tied up here, plus my mother is a complete control freak. Thank god Esmerelda's the first-born or I wouldn't even be here to have this conversation. Can we talk about something other than my impending trans-continental screaming match, please? Like, where's Judy?"

Mitch took a sip of his beer. "She said she was bringing someone new and had to go get them. She should be here…" there was a knock at the door. "Speak of the devil. Stay there, honey, I'll get them."

Everyone looked over when Judy walked in beside Richard Davis. Nick put his paws to his muzzle. "To quote our ever-shrinking friend, Oh, Em, Goodness! Judy, you brought a date! Look, Jacob, Zabrina, our little Carrots is growing up."

Zib gave Nick a patronizing look, while Jacob lay a manual paw over his heart. "I know, it touches you right here."

Judy's embarrassed blush could be seen through her fur. "I'll touch you right upside the head if you don't knock it off!"

"Not too hard, Judy," Valerie flicked one of Jacob's ears, "…I need him as a meat-shield for when my mom starts spitting fire."

Dickie chuckled as he looked around the room and saw not the stunned fascination of people awed by his money, nor the false adoration of those who sought to use him. Here, it seemed he was just 'Judy's date', and that was a very nice change of pace. He strode over to the pregnant lynx. "Mrs. Winters, I presume? I'm Dickie. I brought you something as a house warming present." He handed over a moderately sized cooler.

When she opened it, she saw and smelled fresh tuna steaks. "Mitch, you're fired. I'm trading up. Judy are you willing to share?" Mitch affected a wounded air.

Judy planted her paws on her hips. "Are you willing to share the Chocolate-Chip Cookie Dough Moira said she was bringing?"

Lilly closed the cooler lid. "Mitch, you're off the hook."

As everyone laughed at Mitch's fake relieved expression, Dickie couldn't help but think this was a great group of mammals. He couldn't wait to see what trouble they got into.

…

Jacob never got tired of the new station house; or perhaps more appropriately, the old station house. The building had been the municipal police station at the turn of the century, when Foxburough was still considered a separate municipality from neighboring Zootopia. Back then, the Adame textile mills, as well as the Castorman paper mills were boom industry, and that wealth shown in the architecture. The cathedral ceiling was adorned with a genuine Thomas Benton Hart mural depicting the mutual respect and unity between Burgess County and Polis Zootopia. Jacob thought it a delicious irony that Polis Zootopia was picking up the bill to have the San Andreas Institute of Art and Northwestern College of Fine Arts restore the unity mural that the polis had neglected.

He paused for a moment to take in the aesthetic. The interior was a blend of Gothic Revival and Art Deco, with marble floors and polished granite walls. The vaulted ceiling was supported by brass gilt steel arches. The LED lights attached to the supporting Marble columns were aimed at the ceiling. They allowed for indirect lighting of the entire space, while natural light shining through a restored Tiffany opalescent glass window above the main entrance gave a warm glow to the atrium. Jacob felt the First Precincts Post Modernist austerity lacked this warmth.

As he was heading towards morning brief, he was called over by his shift Sargent. "Raibert, hold up."

"Yes, Sgt. Lupinski?"

She came over to him with a file in hand. "Got something special, just for you. First precinct's night shift pulled over a driver last night for a broken tail light, a jackal: Kostebek Genc Kova." Jacob wondered at this; a Jackal named 'Infiltrator Young Buck' was odd, but it might just be Zootopia's immigration service hard at work butchering names again. Lupinski didn't notice. "His ID flagged him as a Mammal of Interest (MOI) in this Lemming Brothers business, so they brought him in, but he's gone full on 'No-Speaky-Speaky', except to say, 'Anatolian Consulate'. So, guess what?"

Jacob took the proffered file. "I get to give my new official city interpreter status a workout?"

Moira smiled at him. "You get to give your new official city interpreter status a workout."

"All right. We have the buggies up and running yet?"

The Sgt. gave a sour look. "The rectenna in Williston Park is getting worked on, so no power to the Buggies within a kilometer of County Line Rd."

Jacob snorted. "Well, I guess it's the Pale Mount."

"Not a chance." Moira shook her head. "The bean counters won't spring for gas during work hours, not while there are alternatives; especially not for that gas guzzler. Everyone' getting issued these instead." She then handed him a commuter pass card.

Jacob stared at the credit card sized implement for a moment. "Finance won't cough up the funds for the one gallon of gas I'd burn, but they'll shell out $150 for a renewable pass I'll likely only ever use today?"

Moira snorted. "Bureaucratic finances at their best, plus they will have a record of your movements to make sure you aren't, 'wasting city resources'."

Jacob huffed in disgust. "I'll bet they created a whole new office to manage this fantastic, 'cost-saving program'."

"And got some award for thinking up the whole thing to boot. Call in when you're heading back."

"Got it, Sgt." Jacob said as he headed back out, towards the J-St. rail station.

…

Jacob spent the ride to City Center reviewing the file he had been given; as the mammal in question had only been brought in for questioning, and not arrested, there was no good picture of him. There were, however, a few CCTV footage stills showing him in proximity to one of the Alf's, as well as a goat who was also flagged as, 'of-interest'. The Jackal seemed familiar, and the odd name piqued Jacob's interest, but he would hold comment until he was certain of his suspicions. Then, he would have to decide how to act.

Jacob walked into the now familiar Precinct One atrium and headed directly to reception.

"Good morning Clawhauser. I'm here for the Mr. Kova interview?"

"Oh, hi Jacob! He's in Interview Three with Snarlov and Eilerson. I'll call and let them know you're coming; just head on down to Gerard in the Armory."

Once Jacob's service stunner was in the Armorer's hooves, Jacob headed to the interview room. He stopped in the observation room to check in before heading in. "Nick, Judy. Someone said you guys needed a Terp?" They gave him a puzzled look. "In-Terp-reter, a translator."

"Oh." Judy nodded. "Yeah, this guy's been talking nonstop since last night; just none of it in Anglican, except to say, 'Anatolian Consulate'. He's twitchy as hell, though; his ears are going nuts."

Nick shook his head. "It's like this guy doesn't know that only Diplomats get immunity. Think you can educate our friend here?"

Jacob turned to the observation window and listened for a second. He was sure of it: this was one of the LoNF Intelligence mammals he had worked with during Operation: Nobel Garden, an Egyptian named Amon El Masry. He needed to figure out if this was an Intel Op, or if he was dealing with a rogue agent. The simplest way to do that, was to just walk in: if the mammal acknowledged knowing him, he was a rogue. If he held the façade of ignorance, this was an Op, since they both knew Jacob could out him with a phone call.

"Well, time to justify that extra five cents an hour on my paycheck." With that, Jacob headed into the interview room.

Wade Snarlov opened the door when Jacob knocked. He was the only mammal in the room that was armed and was an intentionally ominous presence at the door. Seated across from Mr. 'Kova', was Phillip Eilerson. The normally dour Prong Horn was in fine form that day; his disinterested gaze, contrasted by his pristine uniform gave the impression of detached authority. Jacob knew, however, that all of this was wasted on the Jackal in front of him.

Jacob nodded to Eilerson before sitting down. "Morning Phillip." He turned his attention to 'Kostebek'. Jacob waited for a response and was rewarded a moment later when the Jackals ears began twitchingin what Jacob recognized as a fixed pattern. It took him a moment to translate it; it was a silent code he had learned for one of the Ops they had worked together. After a few moments of observation, he had the message: Bilgi Almak Lazim, NeedDebrief. Jacob sat tall in his chair and flicked his own ears in response: Anladim, understood. The entire exchange took 10 seconds.

Once the jackal's ear twitches became random, Jacob addressed the mammal before him. "Mr. Kova, my name is Jacob Emanuel Raibert. I will be serving as translator on behalf of the ZPD today. Before we begin, I understand you have requested to speak to your Consulate. Did you wish for me to ask for anyone in particular, and do you wish me to give them a message?"

Mr. Kova snorted. "Yes, I have a message, for Ceren Sadik; a strong name for a strong wolf. You tell him that I, Kostebek Kova, say it is time we say what must be said!" At that, he turned his head and sneered at Wade.

Jacob nodded and turned to Phillip. "He says he wants to contact someone in the consulate named Ceren Sadik, and tell them, 'I, Kostebek Kova, say it is time to say what must be said.' I'm going to make that call. You might give him a glass of water; among Anatolians, doing that is a sign of hospitality and might get him to be a little less hostile." Eilerson gave a diffident nod, and waved to the mammals in the observation room

When Jacob stood, Snarlov opened the door and let him out. The closest phone was in the observation room, so he would go there. Jacob maintained an outward calm, but inside he was seething; he was dealing with an intelligence operation, and now he may have to falsify information to his superiors in order to preserve the integrity of that operation. He needed to get out from under this, and now.

Jacob stepped into the sound-proofed room and held a paw up to forestall comment by his friends as he made the call. "Clawhauser? Yeah, it's Jacob. I need you to connect me to the Teller-Ulam Building switchboard office. Okay, thanks."

It was only a few seconds before he was connected. "League of Nations International Offices, Zootopia branch; how may I direct your call?"

"Yes, this is Officer Raibert with the ZPD, Badge number 4328 Tango; could you connect me with the Anatolian Consulate, please."

"Certainly sir, one moment."

As Jacob was waiting and listening to the muzak, he distinctly heard a -pop/klick-. Whether it was his lapine hearing, or just a sloppy splice, he knew this was now a party line.

A moment later, the line was active again. "Anatolian Consulate, unsecure line; how may I direct your call?"

"My name is Officer Jacob Emanuel Raibert with the ZPD; badge number 4328 Tango. I was asked by a Mr. Kostebek Genc Kova to direct a message to a Mr. Ceren Sadik. Message is as follows," There was another, softer -pop/klick-. Jacob had to resist the urge to suggest they wait for any other intelligence services who wanted to listen in. "… 'I, Kostebek Kova, say it is time we say what must be said.'"

"Very good sir, I'll pass the message along. Is Mr. Kova under arrest?"

"Not at this time, we simply have some questions for him."

There was a pause, and Jacob could hear hushed conversation in the background. After a few moments of discussion, the Consulate was back on. "In compliance with LoN treaty, we are exercising our right to provide legal counsel to our citizen. Mr. Sadik will be by your Precinct One in half an hour."

Jacob heaved a sigh of relief; this was nearly out of his paws. "Very good; I'll inform Mr. Kova and the interviewing officers. Good day, ma'am."

Once Jacob hung up, he sagged in the chair. Nick kept an eye on the interview room, while Judy wheeled over beside him. "Are you alright, Jacob?" She asked while laying a paw on his shoulder.

"Yeah, I just despise international politics."

Nick glanced over to his friends "Can't say I blame you. This Kova character seems like a real piece of work; my 'Hustler-sense' is tingling just looking at him. His ears are still going a mile minute. Yours did too, for a bit there."

"Just trying to see if I could hear whatever was setting him off." Jacob massaged the base of his ears, then stood up. "I'm going to let Bogo know we're about to have company, then head back in to give the good news to Mr. Kova." Jacob could see some skepticism in Nick's eyes, but there was nothing for it until Mr. Kova's handler arrived. Jacob thought to himself as he headed to the Chief's office, 'Yet another reason I hated all this cloak-and-dagger crap.'

…

When Ceren Sadik arrived, he was exactly what Jacob expected: a middle aged athletic wolf with an easy smile and a faintly Britannian accent. "Good afternoon, all. I'm Mr. Sadik." He proffered a manual paw to Chief Bogo. "I understand you have detained an Anatolian citizen; a Mr. Kostebek Kova. I'm here to act as Mr. Kova's legal counsel. I would greatly appreciate a private meeting room where I may consult with him."

"Of course, sir. We have rooms set up for privileged conversations right this way. Once you are situated, I'll have Mr. Kova brought to you."

Once the wolf was out of earshot, he turned to Jacob. "Well?"

The hare stood in a relaxed parade rest. "You had Mr. Kova for three hours before I got here, so I haven't been able to do a full listen through, much less translation but, Heathcliff Notes of what I have heard? Wade Snarlov, Ralph Fangmeyer and Daniel Wolford are all species traitors for working for a Bull, while Eilerson and Rammington have hourglass shaped eyes from fixating on the past; pretty bog-standard species supremacy rhetoric. I'll need a copy of the full log, and probably wouldn't be able to get you a translation until Monday at the earliest."

Bogo simply huffed in understanding. "I'll need you to stick around for the meeting with Mr. Sadik and Mr. Kova, but I don't expect that to take very long; all we have is a minor traffic violation, since free association applies to citizens and visitors alike."

"Not entirely, sir." Jacob turned and followed the Cape Buffalo. "We have the plate number off his car; traffic can plug that into their tracking programs, and we can map out his movements and build a better model of what this group is up to."

This time his snort was contemptuous. "Any other advice, officer? Finer points on chewing cud, or best practices for tying my shoelaces?"

Jacob never looked over. "Not at all, sir. Just reminding you that we are still gaining ground. I need your blood pressure down; my money on your inevitable stress induced stroke is still on something Wilde-related six months from now."

The meeting was, as Bogo predicted, only five minutes long. First, Bogo and Jacob were handed a small stack of legal documents to sign; Anatolian script at the top, Anglican at the bottom. Jacob was given one additional, 'As the assigned translator'. This turned out to be an NDA, and signing it absolved him of his obligations, beyond those of a police officer. Mr. Sadik pointed out that detainment over a moving violation was borderline harassment, and free association meant Mr. Kova was allowed to mingle with who he liked. Chief Bogo assured Mr. Sadik that there had been no violations of Mr. Kova's rights. Mr. Sadik then requested a copy of the full interview tape. Bogo had a copy made, and that was that. Mr. Kova was released on his own recognizance, Mr. Sadik walked out with what Jacob assumed was the full debrief in ear twitch Morse Code, and Jacob was handed what he now knew to be encrypted, Code Word Top Secret information. It was only noon and he felt bone tired.

As he was getting ready to head back to Precinct Seven, Nick and Judy waved him over. "Jack, got time for a bite? Our treat." Nick was better at concealing his feelings, but Jacob could see the tension in his eyes. Judy on the other paw, looked genuinely hurt.

Jacob thought he might as well get this over with. He doubted he had much of an appetite anyway. "Sure. Where to?"

"Our favorite café, of course."

Once seated, Jacob couldn't help but comment while rubbing one of his ears. "You know, I've read your reports Judy, but… God that's annoying!"

She looked ready to blow when Nick lay a restraining paw on her shoulder. "So, while you were with the Chief, we did a little research on our two visitors. Not much to say except that for a, how was it put? 'A strong name for a strong wolf'? That name, Sadik, sent me on a Wiki-walk of pictures…of Fallow Deer. Care to comment, buddy?"

Jacob took a sip of his iced tea. "Ask me again, later."

Judy's foot was going a mile a minute. "How much later?!" she gritted out.

Jacob took out the USB with the recording on it and rolled it in his manual paw. "About five years." Jacob knew they understood when both Nick and Judy's jaws snapped shut. When he looked up at them, they were both staring at the memory stick with alarm. 'Yeah,' Jacob thought, '…it's going to be light lunches all around.'

…

Jacob returned to the Seventh in heavy spirits. This did not deter him from getting straight to work. Once he confirmed that he wasn't needed for any patrol work, what with the day half spent already, he settled in to begin the official translation of Mr. 'Kova's' interview. Thankfully he had access to various programs to speed the process up, so if he had no other duties to attend to, he might have had the translation completed by close of business the next day. He did, however, have other duties.

"Raibert!" Sgt. Lupinski stuck her head in his cubicle.

"Yes, Sgt.?"

"Rap up whatever you're doing and head up to Sgt. DuPrey."

"Got it." He set a 'voice-to-text' bot to create his baseline translation from his recording; he could clean it up later. Once the program was running, he locked his workstation and headed up the stairs to the detective's offices. Jacob waved at Winters as they were both heading towards the Duty Sgt.'s office.

"Hey Mitch. They tap you for, whatever this is?"

"I'm a detective now, Jacob; I'm the one who taps!"

"Please, get him out of the offices!" Whined detective Grimes from her desk. The coyote was the station house's only other detective besides Det. Winters and Sgt. DuPrey. "He's been binge watching 'Breaking Baaad' on his lunch breaks, and now he won't stop quoting it!"

"Silence, Philistine! You know nothing of great theater!" Mitch's statement was an inside joke within the precinct, as Det. Madeline Grimes had a BFA from Columbia College, in addition to her BS in Criminal Psychology.

DuPrey stepped out of his office and arched an eyebrow at his subordinates. "Most people knock to enter a room, not irritate the occupant out." Jacob was beginning to learn the subtleties of the puma's expressions, and so could make out the faintest hint of a smile. "I just got word from the first; a former Knight-Howlton employee, a red wolf named Lewis Bayer was recently hired as security at the Lemming Brothers branch on Broad St. Ms. Montaigne says he was let go during the first round of purges, right after you arrested her husband, Jacob. He's been observed on multiple occasions with several MOI's in this investigation.

"Winters, I need you and Jacob to head up to his address in Abernathy Heights. Lemming Brothers are dragging their paws on telling us which vault is likely to be hit. Bayer has recently changed to night shift, so he should be home right now. First says this means the drilling team is within two days of breaching. We're shaking the tree on this, see what falls out. By the book, mammals, but get me intel."

Winters and Raibert saluted, then headed out. Jacob turned to Mitch as they made their way downstairs. "Has the Williston Park Rectenna been fixed yet?"

The lynx shook his head. "Nope. From what I'd heard, they've offered overtime for megas to act as flag mammals and direct traffic."

Jacob snorted. "Well, no power means no Buggies still, and I refuse to roll into The Heights in your Astro…"

"Hey! Don't dis the Baby-mobile!"

"…So were taking my Caddie; end of discussion."

"No arguments here; the missus would skin me alive if anything happened to the mini-van. Just let me get in first."

Jacob rolled his eyes. "What is this, some kind of superstition? Nothing's going to happen to you if you see me standing next to my car!"

"Hey now," Mitch pointed at Jacob over the roof of Jacob's white Cadillac, "…there's already a web site of, 'Black Mammal' sightings, and all of the clearer pictures are of you next to this car. You're almost as popular as Slender-Mammal, or reports of furless primates living in the deep forests."

Jacob started the car. "Five will get you Ten that Nick set the site up. Let's get to work, then I can figure out the best way to troll that smug rug."

…

When most mammals talked about 'Happytown', they were thinking of either the Williston Park or Abernathy Heights neighborhoods. Once upon a time, Williston Parks had been a suburb of Vulpington Commons, housing factory managers and supporting business mammals. Abernathy Heights had been the workers neighborhood; low income apartments and boarding houses that had once supported the vibrant industrial community. Now, it played host to the metro area's disaffected, 'predator' population. Jacob's heart broke a little, every time he drove through there.

Mitch pointed at a dilapidated tenement building. "There, 42 Young's Way. He's on the ground floor, unit 3. Go ahead and pull up in front of the building."

As Det. Winters was getting out, a red wolf in exercise clothes was leaving the building while texting.

"Mr. Bayer?" Mitch called out.

When the canid looked up, he saw a lynx in a turtleneck, slacks and a sport coat, and a… Jacob groaned internally when Lewis froze up upon laying eyes on the hare next to the white car. Jacob yelled over the roof of his car. "For God's sake; Wir sind Jaegern! Act like it."

The wolf shook his head for a moment and chuckled. "Yeah, Wier sint Yaeger; sorry. I don't know what…" He stopped when he realized what had been said, and by whom. He looked up to find that Winters was now standing next to him, while Jacob had his newly issued electro-laser trained on the lupine security guard.

"Mr. Bayer, I'm Detective Winters of the ZPD's Seventh Precinct. This is Officer Raibert. We'd like to ask you a few questions about some recent friends you've made. May we come up?"

…

"He'll fold like a dish towel, Sgt." Winters was grinning whisker to whisker. "He's asking for immunity, though technically I don't think he's done anything he can be prosecuted for; just fired."

Jacob sat in one of the chairs in DuPrey's office. "He's not a true believer, just angry. Didn't have anything nice to say about Ms. Montaigne, despises working for Lemming Brothers, though that might have more to do with losing the seniority he'd built up when Cat purged her company,"

Jean-Pierre arched an eyebrow at Jacob. "Cat?"

"Sorry, sir, Ms Montaigne. I've met her outside of work; she's a friend of Zib and Judy. She's Ms. Montaigne when it's business, but the rest of the time, she's Cat."

Det. DuPrey waited for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. Keep going."

Winters shrugged. "That's it. He knows which vault will be hit and when but won't talk without a plea deal."

DuPrey blinked for a second, then chuckled and shook his head. "Freakin television lawyers. Alright, I'll contact Chief Winterhorn and let her know what's going on, then call the DA's office. You can tell our friend that he'll get his deal, as long as he plays ball."

It was a delicious irony that ADA Deaux was the one to come down for the deposition. Jacob, however, wasn't sure how to feel about his sister being assigned as an assisting Attorney . On one paw, this was a potential criminal with ties to one of the most odious international hate groups in the world. On the other paw, he saw the fire in her eyes as she set up for Miss Deaux. This was what she wanted, this was her battlefield; who was he to stand between an Efrafan and their foe? He relaxed some when they glanced at one another, she gave a confident little smirk. He felt mollified that he would be the inside sentinel for the interview.

"Mr. Bayer, I'm Assistant District Attorney Jeannette Deaux. I understand you have some information to share with us?"

The lupine shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Um, yeah. But I want a deal, or I don't talk!" He seemed to take strength from his perceived position. That perception died with Jeannette's next words.

"That's quite understandable, considering if you didn't share this information, you would be charged as accessory to all the associated crimes; and since some of the animals involved," the doe passed a group of photos over to Lewis, "…are on an international watch list in connection to terror activities in three different countries, you would also be charged with Domestic Terrorism. So really, a plea deal is your only option."

Jacob well remembered the last time he was sitting across from Jeannette in an official capacity, and he almost, almost, felt a twinge of sympathy for the wolf in front of them.

…

Jacob was more than a little upset when, three days later, he was placed on night shift; he and Valerie had planned an evening together, just the two of them. That was now shot, and the surly hare was well prepared to express that displeasure to which ever criminal required his response.

Lt. Waters marched in front of the assembled officers of the Seventh and stood at attention. "Room; Aten-Hut!" There was no banging, chanting, hooting or hollering; just the sound of 58 mammals snapping to their pedal paws, hooves and trotters.

Chief Winterhorn strode into the room and turned to face her officers. "At ease; take your seats. Approximately five weeks ago, officers at the First Precinct noticed unusual activity within the vicinity of the Broad St. branch of Lemming Brothers Savings and Trust. It has since been confirmed by multiple sources, that a team has been boring a hole, from 713 North Broad St., to the Sotheby's High-Volume Vault that Lemming Brothers maintains there and that the vault contains some 15 million dollars worth of valuables intended for auction at a charity event next Friday. Between ourselves and the First Precinct, we now know that there is a seven-rat tunneling team in possession of a 1.5-meter diameter industrial tunneler, as well as an ultra-high-pressure water-saw." An image appeared on the screen behind her of a large wormlike machine.

"There are an additional dozen mammals involved, not including our informant;" Several new pictures flashed up on the screen. "…Jean-Coq and Jean-Baptiste DuMont, two wolverine Acadian nationals who are wanted in relation with several mass casualty attacks throughout the North Amerigon Continent; one foreign wolf, no name as of yet, who may also be involved in several such attacks worldwide; a mountain goat named Eustace Palance, a.k.a. 'Zing' from East Meadowlands; a muskrat named Leonard Holloway, AKA 'Tweek'; and a local boy, Duke Weaselton, out of Williston Heights. There are also half a dozen homeless mammals who have apparently been paid to act as porters. Our information is that they intend to breach the vault tomorrow night, carry off as much real property as possible in one trip, then destroy the rest." There was a round of murmuring.

"Intelligence secured by this precinct has tied this plot to an international terrorist group called the Thule Society." There was a tense hush amongst the officers. "Make no mistake mammals, this is not just some crime; this is a terror attack against everything Zootopia is supposed to stand for."

The Chief began pacing. "Now, we have contacted the Confederation Law Enforcement Agency (CLEAn) regarding this matter. They have in turn, requested, that we not act on this, as it may negatively impact their own ongoing investigations. I am here to give you our Interim mayor's official response. Attention to Orders!" Everyone slammed to their pedals. "Assignments: all SWAT and TUSK certified officers will report to Lt. Waters for coordination with city wide units; you will be the cordon to contain this." The murmur from the gathered officers took on a tense air of anticipation. "All non-certified officers will report to Lt. Sandoval; you'll be pulling double coverage to maintain the illusion we aren't deploying half our officers. Sgt. DuPrey, you're our resident Thule expert; you'll be with me at the Tac-Ops center. Raibert, Hays," Jacob and a scarred Honey Badger stood up, "…head to the armory and get kitted out for assault, then report to Waters for special duty. Dismissed!"

The room exploded in activity as mammals rushed to their assignments. Jacob and Oliver Hays both went to the basement to get their gear: steel reinforced Fibermax™ armor, helmets with respirators, radio links, flash-visors and sound suppressors. They also received Twenty Gauge pump guns with a variety of low-flash, low-impulse cargo rounds, flash and CS grenades, and electro-laser pistols with belt power packs. Last to go on were reinforced gloves and boots. Once kitted out, they headed upstairs to meet up with the Hippo commander of Seventh Precinct's SWAT and TUSK units.

Oliver and Jacob stood at attention. "Lt.," The mega fauna looked at the armored mustelid, "…Hays and Raibert reporting as ordered."

"Good." He set a lock box in front of them. "All smart-tech in the box; you're coms black for this."

Once the box was locked and put away, Waters handed Hays and Raibert each an overstuffed backpack. "Your camping gear; you two are being assigned inside the vault, along with P1's dream team. The brass isn't as concerned with damage to the goods, as they are with the fact that the wolf in this fold is known to be fond of using arson to make his statements. The vault has a Nitrogen fire suppression system, so you're also getting a five-minute supply of canned air." He held up a pair of small compressed gas cylinders. "I assume you both know how to use these? Good; if it comes down to it, prioritize getting yours hooked up. You can't help anyone if you're unconscious.

"Now, orders are to contain and detain; our informant will set off the silent alarm the moment the vault is breached. Multiple assault teams are going to hit 713 N. Broad from every angle one minute after that alarm goes off. We need to keep these mammals from scattering, so your job is to keep them in the tunnel and vault as much as possible."

Oliver was putting the last of the gear in the pack, when he looked at the Lt. "What's keeping our informant from turning turn-coat on us?"

Jacob settled the mini-rucksack on his back with practiced familiarity. "He was deposed by ADA Deaux."

Oliver started at that. "What, DuPrey's doe? Jesus, I almost feel sorry for the mammal."

…

The meet and greet at First Precinct was short, as they were introduced to their method of being snuck into Lemming Brothers; they were loaded into Brinks™ canvas money bags. It was five hours later when they were finally allowed out of their, 'disguises'.

"You know what the greatest crime here is?" Nick was stretching and popping his back. "The city gave up the single greatest pun moment in history by not having a feline on this team."

Jacob had his back turned to the vulpine while setting his equipment up. "Hopps, if you would please?" There was the sound of something hitting something else, and Nick's theatrical 'Ow!' "Thank you."

Jacob was very thankful for the sound suppression gear in his helmet, because the sound of drilling from just outside the vault could be felt through the walls and floor. It took them until the end of the lunch drilling cycle to get fully situated. Once the drilling stopped with a screech, the team knew the diggers had hit the vault walls. They went silent from that point, not wanting to risk the diggers having a listener at the wall. It was 11 o'clock at night when a new noise started up, which had to be the water saw at work.

As everyone was securing their gear, Oliver started to grumble and grit his teeth. "I was supposed to have my daughter for the weekend; I was going to take her to see Swan Lake at the Glacial Opera Amphitheater."

"One of my sisters was supposed to come down today; I was going to work out how to get back on speaking terms with my parents." Judy's comment was punctuated by slamming the closures of her boots.

Jacob was checking the charge on his side arm. "I was supposed to be on a date with Val last night, so your fuzzy muggs were certainly not what I wanted to wake up to this morning."

Nick was fully kitted when he settled in amongst the various stands of goods destined for auction. "Sounds like everybody's weekend plans were ruined by these insensitive louts." He pumped a round into his shotgun. "Let's explain it to them."

The team settled in, hidden amongst the auctions items, and waited. Within a minute, there were periodic bursts of water spraying in from a circle in the vault wall. It was only 15 seconds later that a circular plug of steel fell into the room. The four cops' computerized sound filters deadened the worst of the cacophony, and soon picked up the sound of receding machinery. At that moment, an indicator blinked on their MUD's (Muzzle Up Display) to tell them the silent alarm was active, and a one-minute timer began. The first mammal into the room was Duke Weaselton. The scrawny weasel looked around for a moment, head twitching to and fro, before he called down the tunnel.

"Looks clear, boss mam."

The next animals through were the Acadian brothers, followed by Tweek, who was carrying a leaking canister. The four cops guessed this was their mystery wolf's firebomb; its presence meant no flash bangs or E-Lasers in the vault except in extreme close quarters, though low-impulse pump-gun rounds should be okay at a distance. The one-minute countdown on their MUD's reached zero as the porters started coming in.

Once all but the wolf and rats were in the Vault, Oliver bellowed out through the vox-mitter in his mask. "Police! On the ground, Now!"

The two Acadian wolverines snarled in rage and moved to grab the weasel. "Weaselton, you lying little bastard! You're dead!"

That was when Nick and Judy opened fire, sweeping the room with 20-gauge gel rounds. The Acadians were quick to use the nearest porters as living shields, while Duke simple contorted in a fantastic dance as he tried to avoid fire. Twitch took at least one round to the chest, though in his drug addled state, this only seemed to attract his attention. Once the two police officers had emptied their magazines they ducked behind their cover to reload, while Oliver and Jacob began firing.

It was at this point that the two wolverines threw their shields at the police and charged, followed closely by Twitch. The crazed muskrat took two more gel rounds to the chest before he crashed into Oliver.

Jean-Coq arrived right on top of Hopps, whom he snatched up and hurled towards the vault door, then turned on Nick.

Jean-Baptiste lunged for Jacob with jaws wide open. Raibert just barely got the pump-gun up in time to prevent the enraged mustelid from clamping down on his neck, though the momentum carried them both backwards in a pile of thrashing limbs deeper into the vault.

Judy easily corrected herself to land against the door with her feet, though not quite soon enough to turn it into one of her infamous Hop-Kido rebound kicks. As she was preparing to head back in, something caught the corner of her eye; a line of flame was rushing down the tunnel towards them.

When Jean-Coq tried to swipe at Nick, the slippery fox pounced completely over him, tucking and rolling into the middle of the mass of downed mammals. As he was turning to face his opponent, he saw Judy throw something into the tunnel before yelling out over their radio frequency, "Bang Out!". Nick finished his turn, as the Acadian terrorist leapt towards him. Putting six months of hard training at the academy, and an additional year of sparring with Judy and Jacob to use, he turned Jean-Coq's attack into a throw, and used him to plug the end of the tunnel.

Oliver had just managed to get Tweek into an armbar and was securing him with pawcuffs, when the muskrat dislocated his own shoulder, wrenched himself out of Hays' grasp and took a swipe at the badger officer. Buried under armor as he was, Oliver didn't care. He slammed the rodent's back against the vault wall as he heard Judy yell, and pinned him there with his left arm. Hays then drew his side arm, pressed it into Tweek's diaphragm, and pulled the trigger.

Jacob was on his back, with Jean-Baptiste chomping down on the middle of the pump-gun while trying to wrench it away from the hare. Jacob delivered as hard an uppercut as he could to the wolverine's jaw. Combined with the gun acting as a fulcrum, it was enough to crack the wolverine's jaw and stun him long enough for Jacob to plant his feet in Jean's gut and push him off. Jacob used that momentum to jump to his feet as he heard Judy yell. He rushed towards the stunned assailant, and butt stroked him in the head.

Both Oliver and Jacob looked at their weapons in alarm for a moment as the vault was hit with a thunderous noise. Realizing that they were not the cause, they looked towards the tunnel entrance. There they saw Nick and Judy staring, as Jean-Coq poured out of the breach like molasses from a cold jar, while faint wisps of smoke drifted out of the tunnel mouth.

Judy was the first to gather herself. "Command, Vault."

"Go ahead, Vault."

"Command, we're going to need EOD and EMS in here, in that order; possible incendiary device, and 10 injured mammals."

"Nine injured mammals." Nick said, as without looking, his manual paw lashed out and snatched the writhing form of Duke.

"Ah! Lemme go! I didn't do it! It wasn't me, I was framed!"

Nick used his free paw to remove his respirator and raise his visor. He then simply stared at the weasel.

"Nick! Oh mam, am I glad to see you! They're crazy mammals, I tell you. Threatened me! But I didn't tell em' you was here, so… Look, I got a meet up with my parole officer in like, a couple of hours, so if you could do me a solid and just…"

Nick continued to hold Duke off the ground and turned him to face Judy. The Rabbit had just removed her own mask and visor. She rolled her shoulders once, then cracked her neck and grinned.

Duke started thrashing again. "Ahhhhh! I'll Talk! I'll Talk! Just keep her away from me!"

Nick turned Weaselton back towards him. "Very good Duke; first though, a bit of formality. Duke Weaselton, you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will…"