Frisk is frightened by the message. What did they mean 'what had he done?' He did as he was told! Picking up his phone, he starts typing away.

"I did what you asked me to!"

"We gave u a Molotov. Why the hell did u use dynamite?!"

"Because I wanted to get out of there before everything caught fire? Why, what's the problem with it?"

The last message takes a small while to arrive. "Wait for our contact."

Frisk finds it weird, but decides not to question them any further. He grabs his badge, gun, backpack and gets out of the car, soon starting to walk towards his house. But he doesn't reach it before bumping into a familiar face, one that was trotting on the sidewalk.

"Captain?"

"Frisk! How nice seeing you out here." Discontinuing his walking pattern, Munro comes over to hug the otter. "What are you doing out here?"

"I live here," he replies, hugging the man back. "What about you? Jogging?"

"Yeah," he looks at where he came from with a pensive face. "Guess I strutted too far from home," he then laughs, "I'll probably need a cab to go back. I can't walk as much as I could when I was your age."

"Nonsense, Captain," Frisk notices. "Well… why don't you come inside? Aspen always overcooks."

"No, for Pete's sake… I hate to be a bother."

"You're not a bother, in fact… I had breakfast at your place just the other day and it's only fair you eat dinner at mine tonight. You're already here!"

"Why…" he scratches the back of his head with a grunted laugh. "Guess I'll accept it. Thanks, Frisk."

"No problem, Cap—" he corrects himself just in time with a stare from the other man. "Munro. Sorry. It's the habit."

"I noticed that," he chuckles, patting the otter's back as he pulls him into a side hug. "Can only take so many calls of 'Captain' before I stare at somebody."

"Figures," Frisk replies, grabbing his keys. Munro's phone rings and the man quickly turns around to check it, then turns to the otter once again.

"It's from work," he whispers. "It'll only take a second."

Frisk's eyes widen. Oh no. "Okay! I'll leave the door unlocked, come on in after you're done!" he says, his voice more squeaky and and rushed than he had intended it to be.

Munro turns, walking towards the small fence at the porch. "Belleville."

"Belleville, it's Wright," a voice somberly speaks.

"Colonel? What is it?" he asks, lightly fearful of the answer, and the fact the answer takes a few moments to arrive doesn't really help.

"Someone put a bomb in the LASPOD. Fergunson is dead."

Munro stops dead in his tracks for a moment before letting out a soundly laugh. "Good one, Colonel. Almost fell for it." Silence on the other side. He gulps. "Wright..?"

"I'm not joking, Belleville."

"You're— b… but… how, why would, how could they—" he pauses to collect his thoughts. "Who? Who did it?"

"It's what we're trying to find out. By the size of the explosion, it was a class B or possibly even C explosive."

"Both class B and C are restricted."

"Which is why our intelligence department think this is an inside job. I doubt anyone at the LASPOD would be stupid enough to do this, so we're trying to retrieve images from the security cameras."

"What was the target? Or who was the target?"

"The bomb was planted in the evidence room. It's unknown if the perpetrator wanted to kill a specific operator."

Munro stops, turning back to the house. He moves closer to it and looks through the window at Frisk. The man takes off his coat, neatly rests it on a chair, kisses his wife and even talks with her protuberant belly for a moment before they enroll into conversation. Could it be?

"Earth to Belleville. The hell you doing there?"

"Uh..?" he turns to the street in front of the house once again, his attention severely compromised. Once he can finally focus again, he shakes his head. "Ah. Sorry. No, just… got distracted here, I'm sorry."

"Getting distracted during a shootout can cost your life, you know that."

"Thank Pete I'm not in one right now."

"I would be very careful with my thoughts, Belleville," the man warns, "this could be a message to the LASPOD in its totality. If I were you, I'd be looking over my shoulder."

"Something's telling me this was because of Buster's laptop. I mean… in the same day it's turned in that happens, and—"

"Got the same vibe. And if that's the case, watch out. They might be coming for you too."

"Noted, Colonel. Thank you and uh… keep me posted, alright?"

"Will do."

A flash of memory suddenly rushes through Munro's mind. Pete damn it. "Wright, wait! Wright..?"

"Yeah?"

"What about…" he can feel the words clogging his throat and, suddenly, feels like crying. "Fergie's son? Does he..?"

"Anyone with eyes and ears knows what happened. It's unfortunate."

"Pete damn it, he must be crushed."

"What do you care?"

"My father died in the exact same fashion, Wright! I can only imagine how Jr's feeling!"

"Well, he's been crying for about ten minutes now. The poor kid. Barely graduated and already—"

"Give him a hug for me, will you? I'll… get this thing here over with and try to drop by."

"Alright. Wright off."

The higher-ranking operator hangs up. Munro merely puts his phone back in his pocket and stares at the horizon in front of him, desolated. Fergunson had taken the course with him and they had remained the best of friends ever since. He was one of the very few true friends Munro had.

Panthergonia, 1985

"Sheriff! You have one minute to put these thugs in position in the cerimonial area!"

"Yes, sir!" Munro said, quickly saluting the man before standing up and turning to his colleagues. "Come on! Let's go everybody!"

The group scrambles to get in position as fast as they could. Some of them had been sheriffs themselves, and knew just exactly what happened to those who didn't do as told. Munro himself prostrates in front of the group, holding his gun in position and facing the instructors. One of them takes a step ahead and slaps him straight in the face.

"Is this shift in shape?!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Look back!"

He does as told. As some fellows aren't positioned yet, he yells to the class.

"Shift, position! Present arms!" He then stands in position once again, facing the trainer. "They're in shape, sir!"

"Is the shift in shape?!"

"Yes, sir!"

"What about your untied boots? You animal!" He grabs a bamboo stick and hits Munro with it and as the man falls, several instructors gather around to kick him, shouting insults. "You animal! 04, follow me!" The koala follows the man to a river bank. The instructor points to a boat on the other side. "Since you already have your boots untied, you'll unequip and bring me that boat. Is that understood, 04?"

"Yes, sir," he says, almost in a pained voice as he starts taking his boots off.

"04… you know why you can't do this?"

"Yes, sir…"

"It's not just because you're weak. It's because to graduate this course here," he repeatedly hits the emblem of Jungle Operations in his own shirt, "you need to be brave. A thing that you aren't, 04. Are you going to bring me that boat?"

"Yes, sir," he says, fatigued, finally putting his boots down and starting to take the camo shirt off.

"Are you bringing that boat back?!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Let's see if you can do this!"

As Munro strips down to his bathing suit, another instructor corners him.

"Go home, 04, you're weak. Ask to go, you can't do this."

Munro, for the first time, stares at one of them. "Negative, sir." With that, he goes into the water. Soon after, the boat is anchored on this side of the river, much to the amusement of all instructors present.

"Good! Now get going." The koala joins the shift once again, standing in position, his back turned to the instructor. "Atten-HUT, shift! At… ease! Front to… rear!"

Every animal turns with a single jump. "SPECIAL OPERATIONS!" They belt out.

"You'll never be! None of you will!" The instructors provoke, pointing to the group.

"Attention, 12!"

It takes a moment for the cat to reply. "Yes, sir!"

"You're the new sheriff, 12!"

Once again, he takes a moment to retort. "Sir, I give up, sir!"

As one of the soldiers push him away from the rest, the instructors cheer. "You're making your coordinator very happy, gentleman! Thank you, gentleman! Thank you!"

As the night falls, students go back inside their barrack, hoping that, for one night, there won't be any surprises awaiting them or random training at ungodly hours. Munro, however, stays behind, going over to the river bank and staring into the horizon as he sits on a log. Not long after, he can feel a slap on the back.

"Nicely done, fuzz-face."

"Shut up, 03."

"Hey, just making conversation, that's all," the otter casually says. "It can get really lonely out here and, technically, I have more experience in staring off than you do." He extends his hand. "Fergunson."

Munro takes it. "Belleville."

"Let me tell you, those bloodshot eyes you used to stare at Milton were impressive."

"You think so?"

"Hell yeah. You could've melt iron right then and there," Alan jokes. The koala laughs.

"Thank you. I don't know where it came from."

"Hey, this thing's supposed to shape us into the most prepared guys who don't work for the President, right? Guess you're getting it. I want to have that stare someday."

"When we graduate, I could teach you."

"I would really like that. How's your head?"

"Rather fine. My feet are the main issue."

"Try those lukewarm rocks that 14 is using. That thing is miraculous, all my wounds closed overnight."

"Might as well give it a go."

"You really should. Well…" he pats his own legs as he stands up. "If I don't go back, they'll be wondering what happened to me. You shouldn't stay out here for long," he suggests, walking ahead.

"Hey." The otter turns. "Why are you doing this?"

"Small guys of the world unite," he shrugs with a laugh. "We got nothing to lose but loneliness. We're rare in police. And we'll make fine operators, all of us will. 01, 02, me, you, 07, 14… we'll do it."

He's brought back to reality by light taps on the door right behind him. Frisk opens it and peeks out.

"Is everything alright?" Genuine concern — as if he didn't know what had happened — was clear in his voice.

"What?" he asks, a bit airheaded. He shakes his head to force it to work. "Oh. Yeah. It's alright. Everything's fine."

"'Fine' isn't 'good'," Frisk states, walking to the porch and leaning over the fence. "What really happened? You look like you were hit by a train."

"I was. Well, figuratively speaking." Frisk looks over his shoulder at the man. Munro sighs. "Someone put a bomb in the LASPOD and it killed a good friend of mine."

Oh no. No, no, no, no. This was exactly what he had feared. What had he done? Suddenly, Frisk's hit with a truck of guilt and his tone turns extremely sincere. "I… I'm sorry, Captain."

"It's okay. Not your fault."

Yes it is. "Heh," he awkwardly laughs out. The koala turns to him and puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Well, let's get going, shall we? I'm kinda starving."

"Yeah! Yeah. Let's… let's get going."

"Captain, this is my wife Aspen. Aspen, this is Captain Belleville, he's been mentoring me for a while now."

"Don't be silly. You don't need a mentor," the koala laughs, shaking her hand. "And please… Munro. Leave 'Captain' to the enlisted ranks."

"Munro," she repeats, "it's nice meeting you."

"Equally."

"Munro's staying over for dinner tonight," Frisk informs. "Is that a problem? You always cook enough to feed a small family," he recalls with a laugh.

She retorts with a chuckle. "Well, I suppose that's true…" she then addresses the koala. "Hope you like mayo salad and mashed potatoes with roasted chicken breast."

He looks up in thought for a brief moment. "Three of my favorite foods."

Nodding at him, she leaves both men alone as she disappears into the kitchen.

"Well, it's make yourself at home I guess," Frisk chuckles.

"Thanks, Frisk."

"Don't mention it. Like I said, it's only fair."

"And very kind of you," Munro adds, eyebrow raised. "I'm hardly ever invited for dinner."

"For lunch you are?"

"What?"

"Ha!" Both laugh. "Jokes aside, Captain, you don't have to thank me. It's nice having you over."

"Thanks for that."

"Boys, dinner's ready!"

"Shall we?" Frisk asks. Munro just walks ahead.

"We shall."

"This is one of the best meals I've ever consumed in my entire life."

"Oh, it's nothing," Aspen replies, lightly flushed.

"You should've tried the pork we ate last week," the other otter comments. "It would melt in your mouth."

"Sounds delightful."

"It was," he confirms. "We should do this more often."

"We should! A few friendly reunions have never hurt anybody," Munro comments with a small laugh.

"So, Munro," Aspen starts. The eyes of both males fall upon her. "What is this thing that Frisk told me about you going back to work while being retired?"

The other otter's blood freezes inside his veins. He restrains himself to looking at the koala, who chuckles. "Nah, I didn't 'go back to work'. Retirement's just too good to be quitted," he declares with a soundly laugh. "Let's agree on me coming back to help because I'm just that good," he beams proudly, a smile plastered on his face. "Plus, I was the one in charge of handling these criminals back when I worked, and now that they're back, it's only fair that I come back too to bring them hell. As soon as that's done, I'm out again."

"Aren't you afraid of getting hurt? For how many years have you been out?"

"Since 2013, that's…" he scratches the back of his head in thought before letting out a small giggle. "If my fiancée was here we'd already have the answer. 2017, that's the seven minus three, that's… four years, with a margin of error of 97%," he jokes. "But before that, there were 27 good honored years of service, plus five gunshot wounds and three stab wounds, so no, I'm not afraid of getting hurt," he laughs. "Nothing scares me anymore."

"Oh, you're engaged, uh?" she asks, a small smile on her face.

"To the best woman in the world," he declares, a silly grin appearing on his face as he pulls his phone out and shows her a picture of Laura. The otter nods.

"Congratulations. When is the wedding?"

"April next year. It'll be in the 20th if I'm not forgotten… I'll make sure to send you both an invitation," he assures, winking. "And what about you two, uh? For how long have you been together?"

"Two years now. Two great years," Frisk replies.

"Let me guess… high school sweethearts?"

"Sort of," Aspen begins. "I was a freshman when Frisk was a senior and that's how we met."

"We started dating at the end of the year, right, love?" Frisk asks, a hand rubbing his temples.

"Yeah. In October we were already together, by 2015 we were already engaged, and after I got pregnant, we rushed the wedding a small bit."

"And when are you due?"

"Next week. I have a C-section scheduled to Friday."

"And by what Frisk told me, a girl, eh?" He looks up in thought. "Val… Valeria… Valerie! Is that correct?" She nods. "Beautiful name."

"Thank you. It was my grandmother's name."

"Your great-grandmother must've had a great taste," he laughs, prompting the couple to follow his lead.

"Well, I suppose she did," Aspen confirms. A second later, she can feel a kick in her belly. "Oof!" Followed by contractions. "Ah!"

Frisk's quickly startled by the sudden shout and the fall of her cutlery to the floor. Soon, she hops off her chair, holding her protuberant abdomen. Her husband's by her side in a split second.

"Love, what is it?! Are you okay?!"

"Do I look okay to you?!" She grabs his hand. "It hurts so much!"

Frisk winces at the bone-crushing grip she takes before looking over at Munro. "Open the door!"

"On it!" The koala jumps off his chair and makes a run to the door, quickly doing as told. He stands outside, and when the couple passes him by, he gently takes the woman's arm. "Listen, Aspen, it's gonna be okay, okay? Just… take deep breaths…" he inhales deeply, and she mimics him.

She manages to pant out an 'alright', and then her husband helps her into the car. Munro finally comes closer to them to give the car a pat. As Frisk hops into the driver's seat, he shoots the koala a grateful look.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now go, rush to that hospital," he playfully nudges him through the open window, "daddy."

Frisk laughs before putting the key in the ignition, the car into the first gear, and speeding off, leaving the koala behind. He makes such a quick turn that the tires screech. Soon, they are out of sight.

"Wouldn't be a woman if my life depended on it. Good Pete…" he mutters to himself. He then sighs as he pulls a small device out of his pocket and turns it on. The screen lightens up to reveal two red circles, one of them speedily moving further from the other. Munro expertly fidgets with the buttons in it.

"Target: Frisk. Distance: 45 meters," a robotic voice says.

He cracks his knuckles. "Alright, Frisk… let's see in which team are you playing."

"Target moving erratically. Distance: 57 meters."