(AN: Hello everyone. Sir_RedFox here with another installment of The Long Hustle: Vol. 1.

Quick Update: Please go and vote, the poll is still open. Best way to find the poll and vote is to click to my home profile page, and it's right there at the top. You read through what the pole says, then click the 'Vote Now' hyperlink to reveal the names. Otherwise, I'm going to put the names on a wheel and spin it, which I'm sure none of us want. Big thanks to J Shute Norway for helping me figure out the best way to find the voting poll, as described above.

Quick Story Recap: In the last chapter/installment, Nick has been released from The Hole and spends the day readjusting the torment. Meanwhile, Judy goes in for an ultrasound, thanks to Marian. Before leaving the hospital, she gets a call from her parents informing her that her brother has awoken from his coma.

As always, please leave a review if you can telling me your likes, dislikes, and what would make the story better. Again, thank you all so much, and enjoy. - SirRedFox)

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Ch. 24, The No Cape Hero, part 4:

"We ordinary people might lack your great speed or your X-Ray vision, Superman,

but never underestimate the power of the human mind.

We carry the most dangerous weapon on Earth inside these thick skulls of ours."

- Mark Millar, Superman: Red Son

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"Your destination is 500 feet on the right" the female voice in Wilford's navigation system. Wilford did as the navigation system said, pulling over to the right and parking his car. He turns the engine off and steps out.

Standing before him was a three floor, red brick studio building. The buildings on each side of the studio make it seem even smaller. It wasn't much different than the other buildings he had been visiting that whole day. One in each district of Zootopia. This particular building in front of him happens to be in Savanna Central. The location for RockSolid Banking.

RockSolid Banking, the same bank working in cooperation with the prison Nick is in. Wilford came about this information while doing a little snooping around in prison. The prison has been working with RockSolid Banking by putting ATMs in and helping inmates open bank accounts. Wilford was able to find an entire listing of all the inmates and guards in prison, from a file in the Warden's office.

After finding out about what happened to Nick, getting thrown in, something called, The Hole. No more playing pretend or taking things slow in the prison. It was time for him to actually do what he came to The Jungle to do, shut the cruelty of the place down.

Since Nick's sentencing to The Hole, Wilford was not able to see him. Any association with Nick could have caused the slightest bit of suspicion of Wilford and his true intentions. Instead, Wilford spent time investigating The Jungle and turning over all unturned stones. Taking pictures with his phone of anything that looked important or secretive. One file record did catch Wilford's attention. A file involving this so-called RockSolid Banking.

Walking up to the red brick building, Wilford examines the mail slots. The third mail slot seemed to blacken out and has not received any type of mail in a while. Taking out his pocket-knife, Wilford scrapes off what looks like black spray paint. Wilford stopped scrapping when the words RockSolid Bank was visible.

Folding up and pocketing his knife. Wilford heads inside and up the flight of stairs, to the third floor. The floor where one of the many headquarters for RockSolid Banking is to reside.

Making it to the third floor, Wilford stares at a frosted glass door. Lettering on the door has peeled off, making the door read "oc oli Bank." Wilford could see where the "R.k.S." and "ing" once were. Wilford doesn't bother, knocking but opens the door and steps in.

The loft on the third floor was close to barren. There was one sizeable gray filing cabinet towards the back and against the wall. A back office to the right. Might be access to a bathroom or some type of kitchen. There was only one desk, placed in the center of the room. On top of the desk sat a flat screen monitor hooked up to a desktop computer. Behind the desk, sleeping in a comfortable swivel chair, with his feet on top of the counter, was a puma. The puma wore black shoes and black slacks, short sleeve white button up, and with a red tie. Wilford looks down at the puma leaning back in his chair, believing he would wake up and notice the timber wolf standing in front of him. This seems to not be the case.

Wilford gives the desk a strong kick, waking the puma. Startling the cat awake, he almost falls out of his chair. Looking around, he sees Wilford standing in front of him.

"Yes, sir," the puma cat says. Wilford watches as he wheels himself closer to the desk. Brushing back the fur on top his head and straightening his red tie. "Uh-yes, sir. How may I help you today" the puma says, stuttering his words.

"Are you the only one here?" askes Wilford. He takes another look around the barren loft. Wilford wore his civilian clothes, involving black pants, white tank top, thick combat boots, and his leather duster. Wilford has to admit, he loved wearing the duster while doing his investigating. It made him feel like the Purrrnisher or like one of the private detectives in the Animal City series. The only shame Wilford hates is not being able to grow out his hair yet.

"Uh-n-no, sir. My work associate is in the back. Let me get him out here." The puma turns to the back office, or whatever it actually was, and gives a shout out. "Hey! Danny! You're needed out here!"

Walking out of the backspace was a giant bore. The bore's clothes were like the puma's, only the bore had a yellow shirt with a black striped tie. In the bore's hands looked to be a hot bowl of ramen noodles. "Hey Simon, the ramen's done! Hope you don't mind the taste of lime spiced shrimp?"

The boar, using chopsticks shoves a chunk of ramen noodles into his mouth. Danny, the boar, looks up from his noodle eating. Seeing Wilford standing there, the boar's face became surprised with the timber wolfs presence. Danny wipes ramen off with his tie and walks up to greet Wilford.

"Yes, sir. How can we help you?" Danny says.

"This place is a bank, correct?" Wilford asks.

"Uh-Yes, sir," Danny says. "Very small as you can see. But all great things start small, am I right." Danny and Simon give a burst of nervous laughter.

"Small huh," Wilford says. "So the two of you can help me open an account here."

"Uh-well" Simmon spoke up. "We-we-we can do that, its that-"

"There is a large amount of paperwork to fill out," Danny said, cut Simmon off from speaking. "And, since we are a small bank, we have a limit capacity for customers. Also, our main focus is helping inmates once released from prison."

Wilford nods his head. "Sounds very noble and great of you to help these prisoners once they get out." Pretending to fall for such lies. "Everything sounds understandable. Can I have the paperwork to open an account?"

"Uh-sure," Simmon says. "Danny, do you mind?" Danny goes to the four drawer filing cabinet. From one of the drawers, he pulls out a large file folder, packed with papers. "Here you go," Simmon says. "Fill out these papers, and we can get you started."

Danny hands the file folder to Wilford. He examines the size of the file and all the papers inside. "This seems like a lot of papers work for an account to open."

"Well," says Danny. "We, uh-like to be very thorough with our clients here at RockSolid Banking, and soon to be clients."

"That makes sense," Wilford says, lying with a smile. "Do you mind if I take this with me? Fill it out and come back?" Simmon and Danny nod there head yes. The two mammals look as if they could not wait to get rid of him. "Okay," said Wilford, "thanks."

Wilford puts the file under his arm and walks out of the fake set-up of a bank. Making it to his car, Wilford slides into the driver's seat. Looking at the file folder, before tossing it in the back seat with several other similar files. A rolled up map sits In the passager seat. Unrolling the map, Wilford makes a red "X" on the exact spot he was in. Looking at the whole map and seeing the red "X"s form a rough looking circle around Zootopia. Rolling the map back up and turning his car on, Wilford knew his next destination.

Wilford was not aware of how late it had become. He spent the whole day running around Zootopia, checking the credibility of these, so-called RockSolid Banks. The sun was setting, and it would be dark soon. Wilford pulls up to a suburban-looking house right outside the Rainforest District. The house had nothing special on the outside. It only had solid ivory bricking.

Grabbing one of the file folders from the back and the rolled up map in the passenger seat. Wilford walks up to the door and presses the button for the bell. Less than a minute passes before the door swings open.

"Wilford?" Nala says to her partner. Standing in the doorway wearing jeans and a gray shirt splattered with paint stains. Nala had spoken of her new hobby, painting. Nala explained to Wilford that painting felt therapeutic after a rough day on the force. Also, it was something that she could do with her kits. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you," Wilford says. "To you and Simba."

"Alright, well come on in." Entering Nala's house had a warm yellow glow to everything. Other than that, again, there was nothing special about the house. The house was a simple two-story suburb home. "Are you hungry?" Nala asks. "We already ate, but we can heat something up for you."

"I appreciate the offer Nala, but another time," Wilford says. Looking around the house, Wilford notices some kit toys scattered around. Looking inside an open door, Wilford could see a desk with papers scattered everywhere. It must be where Simba goes and tries to win his company back. Hanging against the wall was a canvas painting. Nala describes the art to him. It was an oil painting representing the forgotten plains of Africa. Various greens on the bottom half of the canvas and different reds and yellows of a sunset on the top half. Wilford must admit Nala's been getting good at painting. Nala has her paintings, and Wilford had his comics.

"One of my best pieces," said Nala. She turns to a separate wall, "but the priceless ones I love, hang on this wall." Wilford turns to the wall Nala was referring to. On the wall hung several canvases that she painted with her kits. Some were from Kiara, and others from Kion. They had what one would expect from a kits drawing. Nala as a cop arresting a criminal or a painting of Simba in a business suit holding Kiara and Kion in each arm.

Wilford follows Nala into the kitchen. Standing at the sink, which filled with dirty dishes, was Simba. Simba was a lion with golden fur and a red mane. His hands were deep into cleaning the dirty dishes while holding his cell phone up to his ear with his shoulder. Simba turns, acknowledging Wilford with a quick wave, but not saying anything.

The sound of cheerful screaming kits come running through the kitchen. Kiara and Kion, Simba and Nala's kits. Kiara was the eldest out of the two and resembling her mother's looks. The other kit, Kion had more of his dad's looks.

"Dad," Kion says, wanting to get his father's attention. "Kiara won't stop taking my things."

"Only because Kion won't stop bothering me when I'm trying hangout with my friends," Kiara says. pouting back.

Simba takes his hands out of the sink, giving them a quick shake to get all the water off. "Kits, what did we talk about when I'm on the phone?" Simba asks the two kits.

Kiara and Kion look down at the ground, as if in shame, and say in sequence. "That your phone calls are crucial and if it's not a life or death emergency to wait till you're off the phone."

"Or..." Simba goes on.

"If mommy is home, to bother her," they say.

"That's right. Now, Kiara, taking things that don't belong to you are not the manners of a Princess" Simba says. Kiara looks down and nods her head. "And Kion, even though Kiara is older than you, she's still your sister and all each need to respect each other." Like Kiara, Kion nods his head.

"And Kits," Nala says, speaking up as if they've forgotten something important. "Where are our manners when we have a guest." She turns to Wilford, presenting him to her kits.

As if finally noticing Wilford, smiles pop on their faces. "Uncle Wilford" they cry out. Kiara and Kion run over and hug Wilford. Wilford didn't understand where the name Uncle Wilford came from. He supposes being Nala's partner and coming over so often, he seems to be more family to the kits, than only being a friend of the family. Wilford didn't mind though, feeling honored to be a part of the family.

Kion looks up at Wilford, at his head. "Uncle Wilford, what happened to your hair?" Kion asks with childlike wonder.

Wilford smiles down at Kion. "Well, your mom told me about the cool haircut you gave yourself. I thought I could one-up you" Wilford says, rubbing the top of Kion's head. Nala told him about Kion taking a pair of clippers and trying to style his own mane. The ending result was that of a crooked and poor looking mohawk.

"Alright kits," Nala says using her soft mother like tone. "It's getting late, and it's a school night. Go up and start getting ready for bed. I promise dad, and I will be up there as soon we can."

They give Wilford one more good hug before telling him good night. Wilford watches as both kits run out of the kitchen. Simba wipes off his hands and finally hangs up his phone.

"Sorry about that Wilford," Simba says, reaching out and shaking the timber wolf's hand. "You know how the kits can be. Would you like a beer or something?"

"No, that's quite alright," Wilford says with a polite gesture. He takes his hand back from Simba. "But, if you got some time, I'd like to talk to you and Nala."

Wilford goes to the dining table and unrolls his map of Zootopia with the several red "X" marks. He puts the large file he received to fill out by RockSolid Banking. The last items Wilford set out on the table were a couple of screenshot photos from his phone. Everything looked set.

Wilford couldn't help but feel like he was about to present some 8th-grade school project to an entire class. With Nala and Simba taking their seats. Simba deciding to take that beer he offered to Wilford form himself. A "hiss" escapes the bottle once Simba twists the cap off.

"Simba," said Wilford. "How much do you know about the company your father and uncle ran? and that your uncle is still running?" Wilford ask.

Simba, with a big "sigh," takes a large gulp of his beer. Wilford could tell this was going to be a touchy subject for Simba. A topic that's going to involve Simba gulping down more than one beer.

"Well," Simba starts to say, wiping the golden brew from his lips. "I was pretty young when my father was running the company. Also, when he died." Simba takes another gulp from of his beer. "So, I don't know what the company's main focus was back then."

"Well, what about today?" Wilford asked. "I mean..." trying to figure out a better way to phrase his question. "I mean, do you know what the company's main focus is currently? Or what interest they have in mind?"

"For Aslan's sake," Simba said and downs the rest of his beer. Wilford watches as the lion gets up and goes to the liquor cabinet. Simba grabs a thick scotch glass and pulls a bottle of Rolling Hedgehog, Black Label from the small shelf. Simba pours himself a Highlander. A concoction of half scotch and half a blast of ginger water suds from an aluminum cylinder squirters. Simba turns back to Wilford and Nala sitting at the dining table. He takes a step forward then turns back, grabbing the bottle of scotch. Simba looks at Wilford before saying, "In case I want another drink for this conversation, and I don't want to keep getting up to pour myself a drink."

"Simba please," Nala says, trying to calm him over. "You don't even know what he's going on about. At least hear him out first."

"So, keep the scotch close then, right?" Simba says in a very arrogant tone and looking at Nala; his wife, his mate. Nala shakes her head and rubs her head while giving a disappointing look at Simba.

"Look, Wilford," Simba says before taking a large sip of his scotch and ginger. "After my dad died, I was told that I would inherit his shares of the company when I came of age. And run the company with my uncle. But you know what happened when I came of age?"

Simba takes another gulp of liquor. He pours himself some more scotch from the bottle. "My piece of shit uncle convinces the rest of the company shareholders to boot me out. That I was, am, to volatile to hold the legacy that is Priderock Incorporated," Simba says. "I can't walk in without being spied on or having an escort of guards follow me around and make sure I'm only allowed to see certain parts of the company."

Simba takes a breather. "Besides," he says before pouring more scotch and taking another sip. "You and my wife are cops. Can't you, I don't know, flash your badges and talk to my uncle about all this?"

Nala grabs the bottle and takes it away from Simba before he can pour himself more liquor. Now with no scotch, Simba makes a loud grunt sound.

Wilford leans in as if whispering a secret. "Listen," Wilford says in an actual whisper. "I'm going off a hunch here. And if I'm right, I have to be one hundred percent accurate before bring this forward. Which is why whatever you say to me stays with me. I beg of you, the both of you, to do the same with what I say." Simba remains speechless but nods his head. Understanding what Wilford is asking of him. "Now, what are some of the projects Priderock Inc. is involved in?"

"Pfff" Simba makes towards Wilford's question. "You name it, and I'm sure the company has had their hand in it," Simba says. "Pharmaceutical research, up and coming electronics, robotics, construction, and..." Simba tries thinking of more to say. "Oh! One that my uncle prides himself over is him landing a few military contracts. Guns, vehicles, bullets. Hell, even manufacturing the pins for a grenade-"

"What about for-profit prisons? Or, banks?" Wilford asks.

"Wouldn't surprise me. Priderock Inc. is like the vines of weeds. Seeping into anything it can." Simba takes a sip of his scotch.

"Wilford," Nala said, speaking out. "Where exactly are you going with all this?"

Wilford takes in a deep breath. "The Jungle prison Nick is in is a for-profit prison. I've noticed that the prison uses a bank called RockSolid Banking. The idea is to let inmates open accounts and put what little they earn into savings. This way, when they finally get out, they can have some money once released."

"That seems like a good thing," Nala says. She unscrews the cap of the scotch bottle and takes a sip for her self.

"It does. But, for-profit prisons don't have to concern themselves with government interference. And Priderock Inc. was apart of the Jungle's construction."

"More than half the inmates have accounts there," said Wilford. What they don't tell the prisoners, is that once released, Rocksolid Banking charges the inmates for their accounts. This makes inmates lose almost half of what they were able to earn in prison. While undercover, I did some snooping around and found an entire listing of people with RockSolid Bank accounts. In fact, here is a list of inmates and their current input into their accounts."

Wilford puts in front of them an enlarged screenshot from his phone. He shows the two lions the bank accounts of all the inmates. "Most of these accounts show nickel and dime type savings," Wilford says. "Except for these few accounts that I highlighted." Wilford points to the highlighted figures.

"These accounts have hundreds to thousands of dollars going into them. It seems that Warden Pierce haves the biggest account out of the whole," said Wilford. "I did a little research on a few of the actual RockSolid Banking buildings in Zootopia." Wilford holds up the file folder he got from the RockSolid Banking. "These are the supposed files you have to fill out to open up an account. Look at all this," Wilford says, opening up the file and flipping through some of the pages. "It's a hundred pages of nonsense. The first ten pages seem legit, but by page twenty-five, you're asked 'What your first dream was? Or what color was your first pet?' Complete nonsense. All though all these places are legitimate banks on paper, the mammals stationed at these places are complete idiots," Wilford says. Wilford points at the red "Xs" on the map. "But all these places, to build their site of operation, got their fundings from Priderock Inc.

Giving a great "sigh," Wilford looks at Simba. "Simba I hate to tell you this but, Priderock Inc. is using RockSolid Banking as a Shell Cooperation." A Shell Cooperation, a loophole in the taxing system to let the richest of the rich to pay less in taxes than the poorest of the poor.

"Simba," Nala says in a gentle tone. Worry and sadness in her voice. She takes a long sip from the bottle of scotch. "Did you know about this?

"No. Nala you know I would never do such things," Simba says. He takes the bottle away from Nala. "But knowing my uncle, it shouldn't surprise me. It's exactly the thing he would do."

"I hate saying this, but it gets worse," Wilford says. "Shell companies are a common thing for billion dollar corporations. As far as the law goes, there's not much we can do. But, the weird thing is the names on these accounts and the amount put into them. You see these highlighted names and the amount deposited into their accounts?"

"Yeah," Nala says. "Seems like one of the few accounts putting in hundreds to thousand dollars into."

"And look at the name," Wilford says pointing the name for them to see.

"Who's Bruce Raimi?" Simba says.

"A convict at The Jungle. Serving ten to twelve years for robbery and murder in the second degree. No family or next of ken" Wilford says. "Or at least he was until he fell three floors and cracked his head on the cement flooring. Yet, while dead, a large amount of cash gets put into his account. In fact, all these names were once inmates in The Jungle, like Bruce Raimi. All dead, yet are still having hundreds of dollars deposited into their accounts. The only time the names disappear is a few days before they were supposed to finish their prison sentencing."

It took a minute for Simba and Nala to realizes exactly what Wilford was getting at. Realizing what Wilford was saying, Simba pours more scotch in his glass and passes the bottle back to Nala. This time she takes a large of the scotch.

"Simba," Wilford said in a comforting tone. "I believe your uncle or someone at Priderock Inc. is helping launder money, made from the illegal sale of Blue Sky. It's the only way these numbers make any sense. The question is, who is this money being laundered to?"

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(AN: Things have become even more complicated. So many strings of web crisscrossing, it's hard to keep track of it all. Hopefully, all the strings can be untangled before the end of this story. Maybe Judy's trip back to Bunny Burrow will help untangle some of this web.

OH! I know RocKSolid Banking was not the original name for the bank I used. I honestly can't remember what I originally called the bank. If anybody can remember what the original name was, please let me know. Also, if anybody is interested in knowing, but, "Simmon and Danny" running RockSolid Banking were modeled after Simon Peg and Nick Frost (Three Flavours Cornetto Trilogy). Thought that would be funny and fun to do.

Don't forget to go and vote on names. Again, the best way to find the poll and vote is to click to my home profile page, and it's right there at the top. You read through what the pole says, then click the 'Vote Now' hyperlink to reveal the names. So I can give Nick and Judy's child a name. So, it's up to all of you to choose whats proper for this story.

Don't forget to comment. Your comments make me want to make things better for you, the reader. Until next time, SirRedFox signing off.)