Captain Bogo's decision to place Benjamin in the Savanna Central Safe House had not been a popular one, even with Trunchbull, McHorn and Higgins, but the Cape buffalo had been adamant.

This particular safe house was a penthouse situated at the very top of a skyscraper that was a mere five minute drive from Precinct One, a luxurious place reserved usually for celebrities and politicians. Bogo had chosen to take the cheetah there primarily because it was also the most secure safe house in the city. The windows were made of the most bullet resistant transparent material on the market, and no-one entered the room without a special keycard that was almost impossible to copy. Security cameras protected each floor, and almost a dozen guards watched the lobby and exits like heavyset black hawks. If any masked psychopath tried to gain entry they would be rendered into Swiss cheese in less than fifteen seconds.

Trunchbull have caved to Bogo's request after the captain had reminded him that Benjamin, in the span of three days, had become the most sensitive key witness in the history of Precinct One. Not only was he the only one who could indentify the predator that had murdered the second most powerful politician in Zootopia, he was also one of the few who could testify against Koslov for kidnapping, attempted murder and loan-sharking. Not to mention it was confirmed by the events in Tundratown that he had at least two mammals out to silence him. As it was, Trunchbull had left it in Bogo's hooves until the ZBI was authorized to take over the case.

"Authorized?" Bogo had immediately questioned upon being summoned to the chief's office to discuss the matter.

"Yes. Apparently someone went over the ZBI Director's head and made him hold off on taking over the Woolton murder case for the time being. For now, it will remain in our hands."

"With all due respect, what the hell?" Bogo had stood up in disbelief. "A sniper tried to kill Clawhauser right in front of us, and then two mammals in masks showed up and wiped out half of T.U.S.K. If you ask me, that looks like terrorism. Why the hell isn't the ZBI getting on top of this?"

"Like I said, they've been ordered to refrain from claiming jurisdiction. I wish I could tell you more." Trunchbull spoke.

"It's Swinton, isn't it? She's trying to keep this shitstorm under wraps." Bogo almost said this out loud, but knew better than accuse the mayor without proof. After his meeting with Mr. Savage and Woolton's murder, the buffalo had become more and more convinced that Swinton was hiding something big. But the mayor couldn't have the power to stonewall the ZBI, especially when civil war had been declared in one of the city's districts.

Could she?

Bogo couldn't stop thinking about the possibility as he sat in the passenger seat of the unmarked police car McHorn was driving to the skyscraper where Benjamin was being held, eight days after he'd left him there. Officer Hopps was in the back, her eyes unusually intense as she read an oversized newspaper. Bogo recognized it as the Meadowlands Gazette, the paper Bellwether was CEO of.

"Sweet cheese and crackers." She muttered.

"What now, Hopps?" Bogo turned his head.

Hopps lowered the paper. "It's Bellwether. She's demanding that Mayor Swinton admit responsibility for Assistant Mayor Woolton's death."

McHorn snorted. "Of course she would blame her opponent."

"It's not just that. She's accusing Swinton and her allies of lying to the public about certain incidents that have happened in the last two decades, most of them involving TAME Collars. Let me just see what else they're…" She suddenly stopped speaking upon turning the page. The car was silent as she read the next article. "Oh my gosh."

"What?" Bogo demanded.

Hopps looked up and swallowed. "Sir. Don't freak out." She spoke before she began reading part of the article out loud.

THE TRUTH OF THE MARKET ELEPHANT RAMPAGE EXPOSED

Five years ago, Riccardo Trunkle, 24, a bull elephant, went on a rampage in Sahara Square Marketplace, causing thousands of dollars in propery damage and injuring twelve mammals. Among the most grievously injured was then ZPD Lieutenant Mansa Bogo, who was infamously impaled by the mad elephant's tusk just as he was sedated, bringing the incident to a bloody end. The cause of the rampage was determined to be a large cocktail of drugs in Trunkle's system at the time of the incident.

Or so we were told.

Five years later, an anonymous source presented evidence that ZNN and City Hall had not been honest about the cause of Trunkle's psychotic episode, and it was not drugs. In fact, Trunkle had been suffering from a condition known as Musth.

"Musth is a periodic condition in bull elephants, characterized primarily by highly aggressive behavior." Dr. Harding, a psychologist from the Meadowlands, explained. "The condition has not been sufficiently researched enough to determine the exact cause, but symptoms aside from aggressive behavior include oily discharge from swollen temporal glands, permanent urinating and an intolerance to noise or sudden movements. I believe eyewitnesses reported seeing most if not all of these symtpoms in Trunkle before and during his rampage. I can't imagine why City Hall would lie about such a dangerous condition."

Hopps paused. "Should I continue, sir?"

"Hold on there, Hopps." McHorn said.

Bogo stayed silent, staring through the windshield at the hydrant in front of them. McHorn had brought the car to a stop beside the pavement, one block away from their destination. He felt angry, confused and anxious all at the same time. Bellwether had exploited what had happened to him, had used him and that elephant to score points against Swinton. This was not how he had wanted the truth the get out.

"Sir?" Hopps asked uncertainly.

"What else did it say?" Bogo asked thickly.

"Not much else. The paper basically accuses City Hall of institutional dishonesty and calls for an investigation into Mayor Swinton. They did say that the anonymous source definitely did not come from the ZPD."

"Son of a bitch." McHorn breathed. "Swinton must be frothing at the mouth rightabout now."

Bogo spotted a Snarlbucks further up the street as he pondered what this all meant. He had his hoof on the door handle when Hopps spoke up.

"Sir, I need to ask you something. Did you believe Mr. Pottermass when he denied sending Clawhauser to the Arctic House?"

"Of course not. Clawhauser recognized his voice over the phone." Bogo saw the bunny's face in the rear view mirror. "What is it?"

"Sir, do you remember when I was sent to question Wilde, and my tires got slashed and that stuffed animal with the Wild Times logo disappeared?" Bogo and McHorn both nodded. "Roundabout that time my mom called and told me to check the trunk to make sure I had all my gear. She said it was to get Pop-Pop to stop worrying about me getting eaten. When I finished the call, the doll was gone."

"Your point is?" McHorn asked.

"My mom called again later that night, and insisted she never called me at that time." Hopps said. "I know this sounds crazy, but I've been thinking about it ever since we questioned Pottermass about that phone call."

Bogo scowled and turned in his seat to face her properly. "Hopps, are you suggesting that you and Clawhauser were called by an imposter?"

"I said I know it sounds crazy. But when my mom called, it distracted me enough for someone to steal a piece of evidence that could have exposed Wild Times, and the second call led Clawhauser and his kidnappers into a trap. It seems a bit of a coincidence that both calls were intended to manipulate us."

"That's very far-fetched, Hopps." Bogo said. "I'd rather you didn't bring this up again without hard evidence."

Hopp's ears drooped. "Yes, sir."

Bogo opened the door. "I'm heading to that Snarlbucks over there. Does anyone want anything?"

They shook their heads. Bogo strode to the café and returned with a hot chocolate and a takeout box of old-fashioned donuts. McHorn tried to hide his scowl, and Bogo tried to hide his own. With Higgins still in the hospital Bogo hadn't heard much of the hippo's opinions, but ever since their discussion on the day of Woolton's murder McHorn had begun voicing his doubts about the young cheetah. It wasn't enough that Benjamin was responsible for Wilde's illegal endeavor getting off the ground, but he was also the only mammal at the scene when Woolton died. As much as it annoyed Bogo, he couldn't blame McHorn for being suspicious. McHorn drove the rest of the way to the skyscraper and dropped Bogo off outside the entrance, choosing to wait in the car. Bogo showed his badge and was allowed inside by the guards. Four minutes later he was knocking on the door to the penthouse.

When no-one answered, he knocked again. He felt a pang of unease and ordered one of the two guards posted outside to pull out his keycard and open the door.

His blood ran cold when he found the penthouse empty.

The memory of Bug-Burga and the viscous blood trail flashed through his mind.

Then he heard the faint hissing sound of a running shower.

Bogo set the drink and donuts on the shiny glass coffee table. Then he pulled out his weapon as he approached the bathroom door.

He knocked with one knuckle just as the hissing stopped.

"Clawhauser?" He called.

"Yes, Captain?" Benjamin called from inside.

Bogo exhaled. Thank God. "Christ on a bike, you had me worried for a second there. Let someone know next time!"

"Sorry! I'll be right out!"

Bogo found himself smiling as he returned to the coffee table and sat down on one of the bland black couches. Less than a minute later Benjamin stepped out in a white button-down shirt and jet-black pants, his spotted fur damp and spiky. Bogo tried not to stare. It didn't seem possible, but the shirt looked over-sized on the plump young cheetah, the hem draping over his thighs like the skirt of a summer dress. It made him look vulnerable and adorable at the same time, but Bogo knew better now than to assume that the feline couldn't take care of himself. His nose twitched and his gaze brightened as he caught the scent of chocolate and donuts.

"I brought lunch." Bogo held up the box like a peace offering. Benjamin smiled and sat down on the opposite couch, letting the buffalo slid the box across the table. Benjamin practically tore the box open and ate the first donut in one go. Bogo watched him eat with a curious sense of contentment. After days of blood and death, the look of joy on the cheetah's face was a breath of fresh air. "O. M. Goodness, I've missed these! Thank you, Captain."

Bogo chuckled and pushed the hot chocolate across as well. He'd heard the feline's unique acronymic exclamation before, and it had made him want to laugh then as well. "I just thought I'd check up on you. I haven't seen you since… well, you know."

Benjamin's face fell, just for a moment before he tried the hot chocolate. "Ooooooh, so good! So what did you want to see me about?"

"I've got no new questions if that's what you're wondering." Bogo clasped his hooves together. "Just an update on the case."

"Uh huh?" Benjamin asked as he grabbed another donut. "Want one?"

Bogo peered at the baked ring in the feline's paw. "Oh, what the hell." He took the donut and took a bite before continuing. It was sweet, like Benjamin's manner. "First thing to know is that we know you're not working for Koslov. The gangsters we captured eight days ago told us how Koslov abducted you to force you to help him hunt down Wilde."

"Oh, thank goodness!" Benjamin held a paw to his chest. Bogo's eyes were drawn to the way the fabric of the shirt rumpled beneath his touch. It reminded him of the large sleeves of the cheetah's renaissance costume. "What about Koslov himself?"

"Still on the loose. We have confirmed his status as a crime lord, so now we've put him on the wanted list. Now that he's finally come to blows with Mr. Big, however, he'll likely be laying low for a while." Benjamin's eating and drinking had slowed to a stop by this point. Bogo felt awful for bringing up that terrible night, but the cheetah needed to know what was happening outside the safe house. "The sniper and that masked bear and his partner are still on the loose."

"Crap." Benjamin muttered.
"We did get a code name and species on the sniper, though, thanks to Officer Hopps and Wilde's intervention on your behalf. Mark II, a sheep. Does that ring any bells?" Benjamin shook his head silently. Bogo placed a photograph and slid it across the coffee table. "Does this ring any bells?"

Benjamin bit his lip and he stared at the photograph in front of him. "Yes. Who is he?"

Finally, a lead. "This mammal is Sedor Valentino, the only mammal in our database that matches the height of the killer. He's a business partner of the polar bear who abducted you, but unlike Koslov we were never able to pin anything on Sedor. Until now." Bogo took back the photo and gazed at it himself. The photo had been taken during a stakeout, right as Koslov and Sedor were getting out a familiar white limo to attend the first birthday of Koslov's only child. Decked in a casual red sweater and loose pants, it was extraordindary how ordinary Sedor looked in the photo compared to the beast they'd battled beside the Arctic House. "He disappeared two years ago on his way to his godson's second birthday party. We were never able to find out what happened to him, but if Mr. Big was involved it would explain why the gangs are at war as we speak."

"War?" Benjamin froze in the middle of eating.

Bogo nodded grimly. "There's been at least two gang attacks in the week since the gunfight at the Arctic House. As much as you may not like being cooped up in here this may be the safest place for you right now."

Benjamin glanced out the ceiling-high windows. "I understand. Do you think Mr. Big sent that sniper?"

"Until we get more information I can't say." Bogo took another bite of the donut. "In related news, we're still on the hunt for Wilde, but at least that fox is running out of places to hide. Is there anything you could tell us to help us find him? He may be in even more danger than you."

Benjamin shook his head again, frantically.

"Alright then. I'll keep you posted on any further progression in the case." Bogo stood up. "In the meantime, stay low and don't leave this penthouse. It's the safest place for you right now." Benjamin nodded, standing up to see Bogo out. The buffalo paused beside the couch. Somehow he couldn't leave things like this. Not after he'd upset Benjamin by talking about the incident. "I do have one question, actually. How're you feeling?"

"Scared." Benjamin said. "What about you? How're you feeling?"

"Like I should have picked up a coffee from Snarlbucks along with the… you're talking about the news, aren't you?"

Benjamin gestured to the nearby flatscreen, which was currently showing the Jeremy Koala show on mute. "That TV's bigger than my bathtub. It's kinda hard to miss."

Bogo snorted irritably. "I feel pissed, mostly. Mammals have used tragedies to fuel their own agenda before, but it's the first time they've used mine."

"I'm sorry." Bogo felt a flutter in the chest when Benjamin patted his arm.

Bogo shrugged off the sudden happy feeling. He was a cop and he needed to act like one. Once he shared a bit more with the endearing young mammal. "I feel relieved too, now that the truth is out."

"Why was it covered up in the first place?" Benjamin inched back towards the coffee table and bent down.

"Because otherwise they would have had to acknowledge that prey is capable of going savage, too." Bogo felt disgust bubble up inside him. "When I woke up in the ICU and learned what ZNN had done, I tried to get the truth out. Do you know what City Hall said?"

"What?" Benjamin asked, returning to Bogo's side with his steaming cup of hot chocolate.

Bogo gritted his teeth for a second so he wouldn't snap at the feline. "They said, 'We don't want to risk turning the public against elephants.'"

Benjamin was so aghast that he gasped loudly and clapped his paw over his mouth. "After everything they said about predators?! After the TAME Collars?!"

"I thought the exact same thing." Bogo growled. "I never looked at collars the same way again after that." He loudly zipped up his black jacket and turned to leave. He had to rejoin McHorn and Hopps so they could get back to investigating the recent events. Another day of blood and death and Cunninghorn for him.

He stopped again at the sweet smell of hot chocolate beneath his nose. He looked down to see Benjamin sheepishly holding up the half-full cup.

"Why don't you finish my drink off?" He offered. "Nick told me that chocolate releases endolphins in the brain and makes you happy. Maybe having some of this will make you feel better?"

The feline was visibly startled when Bogo suddenly clamped a hoof over his mouth as he fought to keep from laughing, even propping himself on the back of the couch for support. His body shook with suppressed laughter as the cheetah stared at him in bewilderment, until he eventually calmed down enough to lower his hoof and speak. "Endolphins?" He wheezed. He had to cover his mouth again as he suffered another fit.

"Wa-was that wrong?" Benjamin asked.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, it's…" Bogo took a deep breath and straightened himself. "It's endorphins, Ben. Not endolphins."

"Oh." Benjamin giggled in embarrassment. "Well, I suppose having a pod of aquatic mammals swimming around in your head wouldn't be very good for your health."

"Stop!" Bogo snorted. "Shut up or I'll bust an artery!" Benjamin buttoned his lips so Bogo could calm down. "Sorry, Ben. I don't know what came over me. Keep your hot chocolate. You need it more than I do. Endolphins." He snorted, but managed to avoid another laughing fit. "Jesus Christ on a stick, I think I needed that. Thanks, Ben."

Benjamin beamed. It was the kind of beautific smile you wouldn't expect to see on a mammal who had suffered so many traumas in such a short time.

Bogo returned to McHorn and Hopps' car in better spirits, leaving them both wondering if Benjamin had given him a big break in the case.

"Not since he told us that Koslov knows the identity of Woolton's killer." Bogo replied. "Come on, let's get back to the Arctic House."

"Why're we going back there in the first place, sir?" Hopps asked. "The CSIs finished processing the place yesterday. It's just the cleanup crew there now."

"We've had complaints about reporters trying to catch some exclusive footage of the scene before it goes back to normal. Oh, and before you ask 'why us,' some these reporters come from the Meadowland Gazette, so there're a fair few rams. Chief Trunchbull wants you there just in case one of them happens to be 'Mark II' in disguise."

Hopps was immediately alert. "Don't you worry sir! I'll watch them like a hawk!"

"You'd better. You're the only one aside from Wilde who has seen that mammal's face."

Judy nodded fervently. Bogo refrained from rolling his eyes and turned back to the windshield, wondering if the bunny sometimes tried too hard.

When they got there, naturally there was a ram reporter hiding around the corner of a small building next door to the crime scene, camera and all. McHorn glowered as he brought the car to a stop in the next street. "He's nowhere near the yellow tape. Damn."

Before Bogo could ask, Hopps answered. "That's not Mark II, sir. Just so you know. What do we do, wait for him to do something illegal?"

"Let's not let it come to that." Bogo said, even though his resentment towards the Gazette demanded otherwise. "I'll have a short word with him, make sure he knows what will happen if he crosses the cordon. McHorn, Hopps, check with the officers already at the scene and make sure there aren't any more reporters about."

They all got out the car and parted ways, Bogo making a beeline for the ram sneaking the camera lens at the ruined street ahead. Ten feet down the road was the cordon, already closely guard by several officers. Another officer was guarding the fire exit to the Arctic House. On the other side of the cordon the clean up crew was hard at work cleaning up the blood and rubble. Bogo could see a great empty hole in the side of the Arctic House, the limo that had punched the hole currently being processed at the Precinct for evidence. Bogo imagined he could still smell the blood that had soaked the inside of the front cabin, could still see what little had remained of the driver's skull. The polar bear beside him had been shot through-and –through the heart by the same bullet. The CSIs had had to use dental records to identify them as Raymond Blanchard and Kevin Furclear. Some of the mammals that had died outside the limo had been much, much worse. As for the three decomposed mammals Hopps had found on Founder's Mountain, their identities were a compelte enigma in the database but their deaths were being treated as homicide.

Bogo reached the ram and cleared his throat, nearly making the ram jump out his wool. "Jesus!"

"Easy there." Bogo said sternly.

The ram regained his composure. "You nearly made me drop my camera! The press has freedom of speech, cop! There's nothing to stop me from filming!"

"You're right. You can film… from this side of the cordon."

"Yeah, yeah. I know my boundaries. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere near that yellow tape." The ram's eyes turned down to Bogo's chest area, and his rectangular gaze brightened. "Wait, you're Officer Bogo?"

"Captain." Bogo had a sinking feeling as to where this was going. Sure enough the ram propped the camera on his shoulder and thrust a microphone up as far as it could go.

"Captain Bogo, could you make a comment on the recently exposed institutional dishonesty concerning the cause of the rampage thast almost claimed your life?"
"No." Bogo said simply.

"But-"

"I said no!" Bogo snapped and began to return to his car, grabbing his radio to check on Hopps. "If you chase after me, I'll arrest you for criminal harassment and you know I can!"

"Captain, wait!" The ram wisely stayed put. "Let me just ask one more question. Just hear me out, and if you still don't want to comment, I'll leave it at that!"

Bogo slowly turned back to the reporter. "Get on with it then."

The ram was more conversative in holding up the microphone this time. "Do you consider it hypocritical that City Hall would hide the truth of that incident after all the effort they put into enforcing the TAME Collar laws on the predator population?"

Bogo cocked his head. "Let me ask you a question before I comment on that; what does your CEO think of the matter?"

The ram's ears flattened. He must have really wanted Bogo's statement, for eventually he answered. "I really don't know. Ever since Assistant Mayor Woolton died, she's taken her campaign in a different direction."

Bogo nodded, satisfied enough to indulge the ram. "I see. Anyway, my answer to your question is yes."

"Could you elaborate?" The ram asked eagerly. "What do you think of City Hall denying that violence is in an elephant's biology?"

"Fine. In my opinion, the only thing worse than a hypocrite is a shameless one. Happy?"

The ram was happy enough that he didn't bother the buffalo against as he started back to the car. Internally, Bogo had been unsettled by the direction the unwanted interview had taken. Violence in an elephant's biology? What would that kind of thinking mean for the elephant population? What would it mean for Trunchbull? Bogo turned back, intending to say a few more words to the reporter, but the ram had gone.

The buffalo turned back to the car, taking small comfort in that it was considered a hate crime to slander prey mammals, elephants included, and Bellwether was savvy enough to know that. She would focus her wrath on Swinton, and Swinton alone.

He paused when he saw a hint of colour poking out of a pile of black garbage bags that didn't appear to have been touched in days. Like a crustacean drawn to the glowing orb of an angler fish he approached the small shiny object and found it to be the cover of a Gazelle CD. He already possessed a copy of this CD, but something told him that he shouldn't leave this one in the garbage. He plucked it from where it had been wedged in between two bags and opened the case. A pirated CD, of course. The unmarked blue disk inside was a dead giveaway.

His radio crackled. Commander Cunninghorn spoke. "Bogo, you need to get to 24 Liddel Avenue immediately. There's something we need to discuss with the cheetah."

Bogo glared at the radio. "How do you know where he'd being kept?"

"Trunchbull told me. Quit griping and get over here."

His hoof slipped the CD into his jacket pocket as he strode back to the squad car. This was getting better every minute. "Prick." He muttered.

"Sir?" Hopps called through his radio. "Sir, where're you going?"

"I've been called back to the safe house. I'll see you back at the station." Bogo said as he charged into the car and punched the gas.

He stopped outside the entrance to the skyscraper to find one T.U.S.K. van and the bodies of two security guards. One of the glass doors was a spiderweb of broken glass radiating around a bullethole.

No. This couldn't be happening.

God damn it, I promised Ben that it was safe!

Kneeling before one of the bodies, his feet inches from the puddle of blood forming from the hole in the unfortunate deer's head was Commander Cunninghorn.

"Cunninghorn!" Bogo shouted. "Where is the rest of your squad?"

"On their way! I'm the first one here!" Cunninghorn fired back.

"What's the ETA?"

"Four minutes!"

Bogo cursed and pulled out his weapon. "What happened here?"

"Hell if I know! I got here first to find this!"

Gun in hoof, Bogo stormed toward the building. Cunninghorn grabbed his shoulder. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Clawhauser's up there, Cunninghorn!"

"I can't let you go up there!"

"Then I've got two balls for your chin because I'm not staying down here! Let go of me!" Bogo violently shrugged off Cunninghorn's hand, opened the door and crept inside.

Behind him, the rhino snorted with anger. "Fine. I'm going with you."

"Thank god you've made yourself useful for a change." Bogo replied dryly. There were more bodies in the lobby, all security guards, but barely any bullet holes in the walls. The buffalo began to suspect that this was the work of a minimal number of killers, perhaps even one.

Perhaps the sniper. Or Woolton's killer. God, I hope they didn't get their hands on a key card.

As they approached the nearest elevator Bogo heard a crackle behind him, and then McHorn muttering into the radio. "That way our backup."

"What's the ETA now?"

"Four minutes."

Bogo rounded on Cunninghorn. "You already said four minutes!"

"Did I?" Cunninghorn had been looking nervous since Bogo had disregarded his demand to stay out of the building. "Whatever, let's just find that pred!"

They entered the elevator and Bogo pressed the button for the top floor. He watched the numbers on the little screen climb, his heart pounding all the while. Four… five… six… seven… eight…

Cunninghorn's leaf-shaped ear twitched. "Did you hear that?"

The next time the sound came, Bogo heard it; the thunderous chatter of a machine gun. Good God.

There was a ping, and Bogo was out the elevator before the doors could fully open. Something had happened to the lights in the hallway; most were off and some were flashing like dull disco lights. He looked right and saw only a window looking out into the city. He looked left and saw a familiar hulking figure in the hallway farther down, flashing in and out of existence with the lights like a wraith. The buffalo opened fire.

There was a roar of surprise and anger, and the bear in the black coat and plague doctor mask took off in the opposite direction, toward the entrance to the stairs at the far end.

Cunninghorn charged past Bogo in pursuit. "I'll find the kid!" The buffalo shouted after him. He ran past the entrance to the other penthouse on the floor and toward the light emanating from the penthouse where Benjamin was located. He became aware of a muted banging sound as he approached and aimed his gun into the penthouse. On his way inside his foot brushed against a short-bladed knife on the floorboards.

The living room was empty, and at first glanced untarnished.

Then Bogo swept the room, turned right and saw another body, the guard who had been guarding the door with a machine gun. Then he looked left and saw a trail of bulletholes along the wall leading from the entrance to the bathroom door. The bathroom door was the source of the banging; someone was trapped inside by a chair expertly lodged under the handle.

"Clawhauser?" Bogo yelled, keeping his gun raised as he approached. The trapped mammal didn't answer and kept banging. The chair was getting dislodged by the constant assault. Bogo stayed where he was, reported the situation through his radio, and waited for the mammal to break free.

Just as Bogo heard the heavy footfalls of Cunninghorn entering the room behind him, the chair came loose and went flying as the door was finally kicked open. It wasn't Benjamin.

Bogo stared at the wolf in the trenchcoat standing in the bathroom doorway. The wolf stared back as the buffalo narrowed his eyes and trained his gun on him.

Bogo opened his mouth to order the wolf to raise his paws, and then felt a sudden pain, like a fiery blade across the left side of his neck.

Bogo's hoof dropped the gun and flew up to his neck as he spun round, locking eyes with Cunninghorn. The rhino's eyes were wide as he tightly gripped the short bladed knife and gestured for the wolf to get moving. Bogo felt warmth spread over his hoof and neck and brought the hoof into view. It was crimson and dripping. The sight stunned him so much he did nothing to stop the wolf as he ran past the buffalo and out the penthouse.

Cunninghorn watched Wilde's wolf go, then turned back to Bogo with a sneer.
"Enjoy Hell." He said before following the wolf out.

Bogo's mind was telling him to pursue, but his rapidly draining body was already betraying him. His own weight sent him backward, his hip hitting the back of the couch where he'd sat talking to Benjamin mere hours before. Rage and fear filled his being even as his life soaked his shirt and arm while he tried to apply pressure to the cut across his jugular.

"BASTARD!" He howled at the empty doorway before his legs gave out and he fell to the floor.

He tried to get up, but his blood-soaked arms could only raise him a few inches before he collapsed again. He tried to find his radio, but that back-stabbing fucker had swiped it before or after cutting his throat.

Cunninghorn… Bogo cursed the rhino to an eternity in hell as he lay there, feeling ice fill his veins to replace the blood as it began to pool under his head. You son of a bitch…

Somewhere beyond his darkening vision, he heard an innocent cheetah scream. Despair tore at what little consciouscness he had left.

Ben… I'm so sorry… I couldn't protect you…

TO BE CONTINUED...