Chapter 2:

.

"Now, do you think we could use some disguises for this?"

"We're sneaking around and spying, not doing undercover work, Davey boy, the idea is that we aren't seen," Basil replied. They'd slipped into a tiny rodent sized lift and were making their way up to the top of the building. "In any case, which disguise were you thinking of?"

"Well, I had it in my mind to use the pair that we used in that incident at that chicken farm," Dave replied. There was a ping and a rattle as they reached the top floor, one which happened to be above Bogo's office. Up here there were spare cubicles and open office spaces, though the main use was for storage. The duo scurried forth, weaving through the large cardboard boxes, pressing their backs up to them as they caught their breath.

Basil panted a few times, before looking at Dave, the more rotund mouse suffering much more from the exertion. "The chicken farm?"

"Yes," he replied, taking a breath in. "You know, the one where Rattigan used that experimental sentience inducing gene therapy serum he'd discovered somehow. He wanted to convince the world that non-sentient animals could naturally become sentient, hoping to destroy the predator food supply and take over with his fungus based substitutes. You remember that one?"

"I remember that you played the 'smart' mouse in that one."

"Oh, you had your moments too. We both enjoyed those characters, didn't we?" Dave replied, as Basil sneaked around a corner and gave a peek.

"But you still want to be the clever one, don't…" he began, before his eyes widened. He grabbed Dave and pulled him back into a small corner as a hyena girl stepped out of the shadows.

…

"I don't think she heard us," he whispered, leaning to look out again. He jolted back though as a gust of wind blasted past, something huge sweeping across the floor. It raked past again, then forwards once more, kicking dust into the mice's face. The boxes around them shook, and Basil leapt to hold onto Dave, closing his eyes until it ending.

Carefully, the pair leant out again, and spotted the janitor hyena carry on her vacuuming in the other direction, bopping and dancing to the music from her headphones as she went.

"Well," Dave noted, "I am the most composed one."

Basil scowled, before racing forwards, waving his husband on. They dove down onto all fours, cutting right and then left, until reaching another safe space. "Honestly, where the hell did Rattigan get that serum anyhow? His temporary lab showed him trying to work out what it was and failing at it."

"Well, I always presumed it was some mad Soeviet creation or what not," Dave noted. "After all, it was in that lab where we found the poster for his final airship cruise. Announcing that for the first time they'd be allowed to visit that giant lava lake in Kamchatka."

"Maybe Rattigan was moving on to volcano-based villainy, I wouldn't put it past him," Basil said, as he began creeping around. He paused as he noticed a long shelf above him, running along the entire wall, buried behind all the boxes. "Up there," he noted, Dave looking significantly less keen.

"If you insist," he said wearily, as they made their way to a dog-eared corner of a cardboard box and began climbing up it. Whether fit or not, the laws of biology made this task a particularly easy one for them both, and they were soon racing along the shelf. "As for the volcano stuff, don't give me nightmares, please," Dave noted, racing after Basil. "I mean, that place was originally closed off to the world for decades due to some classified research into tapping it for power generation experiments or laser weapons or something. Maybe he thought that some clue to his serum would be in one of those labs, but from the reports only fragments were left. The authorities had cleaned it all up."

"And maybe he was able to find some clue there?" Basil replied. "I mean, the last we saw of him, he was going to the other end of the old Union, or at least we think so. -Though worryingly there are volcanoes in that part of Russia too… Regardless, he went silent after that. Maybe he had an accident, or got a dose of that serum himself… I would be eternally satisfied if he ended up being done in by his own hubris."

"Maybe using it on a clever mammal makes them dim," Dave joked, as the pair made it to the end. In front of them was a small space left open, giving access to a trio of doors.

"Now," Basil began pondering, "if I'm right, then the behind the centre door is a storage cupboard, and behind that we can access the main electric riser."

"Right then," Dave agreed, pausing as he saw Basil jump off the ledge and fall to the ground. Due to his size, they would both be perfectly safe, despite the fall being many times their height. Still, he couldn't help but be a bit nervous. He closed his eyes and leapt, bracing for impact and landing on the floor in an ungraceful roll. He stood up, brushed himself off, and then took after Basil. The pair quickly slipped under the door, making their way to a plug socket at the back. Eyeing it up, Basil took a special tool off of his back. There was one small bit of metal, with a flat head and cross head on either end, the latter of which he pushed into one of the plug's screws. A magnet held it in place as they both got out two long bits of metal, slotting them into holes on the rod's sides. Stepping out to the long ends and putting their backs into it, they jolted as the screw broke loose. Together, they then repositioned their handles and easily turned it a bit more, then repeating the process again and again. Slowly, quietly and effectively, they began breaking the socket loose.

"Maybe it does make them dim," Basil pondered, as they took out screw after screw. "I mean, maybe that was why those chicken farmers were so stupid. Their egg hens were telling them that they were alive and sentient, but did they believe it? Nope! In fact, they promptly chose to go from egg farming to meat!"

"Don't I remember," Dave huffed.

"They got in a whole chicken pie machine."

"Yes, well, apologies in advance for the pun," Dave began. "But that henpecked husband did sort of realise stuff was up."

"Yes, I remember," Basil said, as they moved onto the final screw. "'Them chickens are organised!' By the end of it, he must have been at his wits end, especially given the damage a certain pair of rodents ended up causing."

"Well, not like we didn't help his mental state," Dave chuckled. "Remember when we absconded with his tools, so the chickens could work on their flying machine?"

"Oh, of course I do," Basil chuckled. "A disguise on top of a disguise, and he believed it poor fellow."

"'Ooooh, gnomes now!'"

"Ah, good times, good times," Dave chuckled, as they finally got the socket open. In they crawled, finding themselves in a long, tall and narrow space. Either side of them were steel frames holding up the plasterboard, the insulated sides showing themselves. To Dave's right, he noticed the electrical wires shoot upwards, and he noted glumly that this, like most buildings, carried their wiring in a suspended ceiling. "Well, I'm not going up."

"Neither am I," Basil replied, as he waved Dave on. "You see, this being an expensive public building, they likely know that mice incursions are a risk! That means the risers will be filled with motion and heat sensors, designed to stop exactly this."

"Ah, then. So, how do we get down?"

"Using the risers."

"You just skipped a page."

"No," Basil replied, looking back at his mate with a cunning look in his eyes. He paused next to a bit of insulation, pulling it apart to reveal some plasterboard. "You have the item?"

"I presume you mean this little number," Dave said, bringing out a miniature buzzsaw. It was actually two ones, the blades designed to spin in the opposite direction so as to not throw off the small users. Taking it out, alongside a battery he'd had strapped to his back, the larger mouse set it up and began work, quickly grinding a small hole in the plasterboard. Letting the bit of debris fall off, Dave blinked a few times as he saw a plastic pipe in front of him. "This is the moment when you act all smart and explain your cunning plan, isn't it?"

"Let me explain my cunning plan, I think you'll find that it's all quite elementary," Basil said, coming forward. "They put sensors in the risers, but not in the pipes that go through the risers. Now, on the bottom two floors there are bathroom blocks, and pipes go down from them and into the down pipe in this riser. However, with each flush, you draw air in which could cause vacuums and all sorts. As a result, every down pipe has a vent at roof level to stop a vacuum forming. This is that vent. We don't have to worry about waste coming down from on top off us, unless we go too far down and below the first connection to the toilets. Once we cut in, we can rappel down to the right level, cut out again, and sneak over until we're above the Chief's office!"

"What about the smell?"

"I…" Basil began, before pausing. "We'll just have to bear it, I guess."

Dave looked away, before clicking his fingers. Tearing two small chunks out of the foam insulation, he packed them up his nose.

"AH!" Basil announced, doing exactly the same, which inevitably made his voice go squeaky. "Elementary!"

…

A short abseil later, the two of them cut through both pipe and plasterboard, emerging out into a black expanse, pipes and wires running everywhere. Fixing headlamps, the two set off, slowly crawling along the top of suspended ceiling.

"This should be along the corridor," Basil whispered, as he followed the path of a massive cable tray. Every now and again they'd have to duck under a branch or under a thin ventilation shaft. They made their way through a forest of hanging supports, shivered and sweltered as they passed heating and cooling pipes, and had to hold still as they thought they heard a spider off in the distance.

Basil's eyes narrowed, and he brought out a small blade, long since broken off a swiss army knife, and began cutting through a mass of cobwebs. He closed his eyes here and there, to try and judge where they were. "If I'm right," he said, "given the length of our walk and the compromising factor due to our less than ideal path, we should be halfway there."

"Actually, we just passed it."

Basil looked back, spotting Dave lying on his front next to the top of a light unit. There were gaps in the casing, allowing him to peak through. "Excellent," the thinner mouse said, as he raced over. Thankfully, the Chief's Office was separated by another partition wall, and there was a slight gap in the section that extended above the ceiling.

The mice slipped through, being extra quiet as they snuck up next to another lighting unit. Eyes peeled, ears at the ready, they peeked through. They both knew that they could be in for a long wait, and might not even get anything credible to use against him.

In a way, they both knew that they were in for a long, tiring, and potentially fruitless stakeout.

.

…

"WOW! YOU ARE ONE GREAT DANCER CHIEF BO-GO."

.

On the other paw…

They watched with wide eyes as the Chief danced to the app, which was decidedly so four years ago, yet still entranced him. Basil looked to Dave, the mouse holding out a very expensive miniature sound recorder, getting every second of it.

For the great mouse detective, that wasn't quite enough. He gestured to his mate and brought out a far more expensive mouse sized video recorder. He waved along, the two scurrying so that they were behind him, right next to another light unit. Bringing out a rope and winch system, Basil fixed his line and slowly lowered himself down.

He held his breath, fully expecting it to be a high stake, high tension, milliseconds away from being spotted affair.

Thankfully, Bogo was so enraptured that Basil got a full minute of footage before getting away scot free. The pair raced back the way they came, making sure to seal the holes in the soil vent pipe they made, lest they let a noxious and incriminating smell out. All the way up again, out into the storage room, and Basil couldn't help but give the same chuckle he'd perfect on that chicken farm mission years ago.

"Now," Dave replied, adopting the same mannerisms and voice from his character back then. "How do you suppose we exploit with this little bit of information, Fetcher?"

"I don't think you gets eggs from this one, Nick," Basil replied, sounding unconvinced.

"No you don't, but suppose you do. You can have one egg now, or hatch it to get a chicken, and get all the eggs you can ever want!"

"What if it's a boy? I'm not stupid, I remember that from last time."

"Naaah," Dave replied, elbowing his mate. "Compromising information is all female you see."

"Why's that then."

"'Cause you can milk 'em," Dave said with a wink. They both gave a mischievous laugh, before setting off for phase 2.

.

.

The next morning, Bogo entered his office, early as usual. He had his duties to fulfil before the rest of the forces got in and not much time to do it in. To top it off, he was grumpier than usual.

"Oh, morning Chief!"

"Morning Clawhauser," he said, the jovial cheetah's mood at least helping him a bit.

"Morning Chief," came another voice, and Bogo looked up to see Catano standing next to the desk.

"Morning. You're in early today."

"I had some business in the morning," she replied, stretching a bit. "I might as well come in early."

"Right then," he replied, giving her a nod.

"-You know," Ben spoke, "I'd have just said that I wanted to get to the bottom of this case ASAP."

"I think Officer Catano is above Brownnosing," Bogo dismissed, as he walked off to the lift. He pressed the button and waited for the door to close, pausing as he noticed her race in. She stood next to him in silence for a second or two as they began to move up, before shrugging.

"-Well," she began. "I will be helping out on the case some more," she said. "But that's not the reason I was in early."

Bogo nodded, smiling slightly. "So, maybe you're not above it then."

"-Huh," she remarked, looking up to him. "This… -I was just stating the truth," she said, a little defensively. "I was here early for other reasons, but I will be using that time constructively."

"Right then," he nodded. "Though I'm not sure if it matters either way."

"Why would you say that?" she asked, cocking her head slightly.

"Because I'm not sure if this case is one where just throwing your time away will solve it," he muttered. "Hopps and Wilde poured through jam-cam footage, getting a small lead that could hardly be called that. Meanwhile, our two detectives came in at another angle and knocked out the perps. Only, now, we have new perps operating somewhere, and we don't know where."

There was a grumble from Catano. "And we keep on giving perps a free ride away from justice to find the truth, and what do we find? Dead end after dead end…"

"Not quite yet," he pointed out. "While we're here, I might as well discuss this." There was a pause as they arrived on his floor. "-We'll walk and talk. Anyway, we can try and follow that new leads. The areas the handovers were taking place in have terrible camera coverage, but we could try and identify and follow those up the chain."

"With the photos we have, I'm not that confident," Catano noted.

"Me neither, even with Wilde's incredible facial recognition on our side. That was why I was also contemplating putting you and the others in patrol in those areas, looking out for any of the mammals, adults or teens, who were being used as smugglers."

"In case they were able to follow the chain a bit further along?"

"Exactly," he huffed, scratching his head. "Or if they heard anything about the details of who the mystery partner is."

"I'd think that if they were that far in, they might fear giving the information away," Catano pointed out. "Especially if it's a younger teen."

"That's a risk I hadn't thought of. Well, much as you are loathed to disagree with it, we can give them a reprieve after threatening to go hard if they help out."

There was a long pause, before Catano spoke, suddenly sounding a bit unsure of herself. "Which part would you think I'd disagree with?"

"Well, you've been quite a vocal critic of letting mammals off the hook, haven't you?" Bogo pointed out, looking down at the smaller cheetah. He paused though as he saw her frown.

"For mammals involved in messed up stuff, yes. -And maybe, if those teens knew exactly what was in their containers, then they should definitely be held accountable. But I'm guessing they didn't know. They might have been poor and not known what they were a part of, just how bad it was. By all means give them a grilling from hell, call them out on it and maybe caution them. But I don't think a dumb but harmless teen needs the book thrown at them."

"Hmmm," the buffalo noted. "I thought you were a 'throw the book at them' mammal."

She nodded, scratching the back of her head. "I just want justice to be served," she sighed. "And then there's mammals like that kangaroo, who weave through the system to get off the hook, and then rub it in your face." She'd winced up at that, the fur on her head sticking up. Arriving at Bogo's office, the cape buffalo waved her in, continuing their conversation as he booted up his computer systems. He looked at her curiously, thinking.

"What's your opinion of Officer Wilde, then?"

Catano paused, looking at him for a second or two. "Just so we're on the same page, he only did borderline legal stuff, barring some now sorted tax issues, before he joined on?"

"That is correct."

"Good," she said, relaxing. "I mean, by all means, had I met him before I'd have given him a talking to about cleaning up."

"Even though it's not illegal?"

There's codes of conduct for life," she pointed out. "Same reason I was truthful early. Legal and honest aren't the same thing, and back then Wilde would have needed to hear the riot act on it. However, it seems Hopps already did the job, and he followed through." There was a pause as she thought. "Those teens and such, they need that kind of talking to. Tell them as it is and drag them kicking and screaming away from the bad stuff. It might be uncomfortable, they might hate it, but it needs to be done."

"Though," Bogo pointed out, "surely those mammals, teen or otherwise, who knew or had chased up the chain would likely have known what they were doing beforehand?"

Catano paused, looking at him and frowning. "Are you being a devil's advocate?"

Bogo's eyes raised slightly. "In all my years, Catano, I have yet to see an officer being so blunt in calling me out for that."

The cheetah blinked a few times, gawking. "So, you admit it?"

"Catano," he replied, "I get all sorts of fancy theories from my detectives, some which turn out to be true, but most not. I've seen multiple ones get carried away with their pet theories. As the Chief, I need to challenge their ideas, make them justify them in front of me, down to the finest detail. I'm disagreeable for the sake of being disagreeable, as that's how you whittle down to the truth." He paused slightly. "Maybe it does carry on a bit too far here and there, I'll admit that."

"Fair enough," she said. "In any case, your idea is worth a shot. Anything to get further along with this case."

"Agreed," he said. "I'm beginning to regret busting Kazar so early."

"Huh," Catano gawped. "Why? Surely that's a good thing, getting him and a chunk of the danger off the street A-S-A-P."

Bogo looked up at her, a faintest of faint smile growing on his muzzle. "I see you're not quite catching on," he said. "We took him out, yes, but there's still his associate out there. One, who for all we know, may be far more dangerous. He knows how to refine howlers, and he almost certainly has some. Despite that though, the city is taking it less seriously. Warnings have gone out, but since Kazar's defeat they've been muted. Most citizens think they're safe and the danger is gone when in truth we just don't know. In any case, had we pulled him in later, maybe we'd have been lucky and got more information on our other guy. We don't even know his name, or where he is."

Catano nodded her head. "For all we know, it could be a ZPD officer. Where better to hide, than under our noses…" She paused, thinking. "There's this show that my flatmate likes, and they had someone like that. Seemingly so far embedded in the enemy side that no one ever suspected he was a double agent. Meanwhile, he organised the resistance. All anyone knew was that his codename was 'The Owl'."

Bogo groaned. "Sounds appropriate for our mammal."

"Maybe it isn't a mammal," she said. "Maybe a sentient reptile or bird. For all we know, maybe it's an actual owl?"

Bogo nodded. "We don't know, though given how incredibly rare they are it's highly unlikely. All I know is that I'm glad Wilde isn't here to make an obvious pun."

There was a brief pause, before Catano snickered and nodded. "It was just an idea," she said. "This same show features giants and 'a devil of all the world too'. Who knows, maybe our owl is those things too?"

Bogo nodded. "We don't know, and I don't like that, but some things are far more likely than others. They're our best shot for now. Dismissed."

Catano nodded, and saw herself out.

Bogo looked at the time and groaned. That had taken a bit longer than expected, and he needed to double check his emails before coming up for the list for today's duties. He began filtering through them, his eyes narrowing at another call from the DA suggesting a heightened police presence in certain neighbourhoods (which just so happened to be predator heavy), before his phone rang. Who now, he thought, as he pulled it up.

"CHIEF BOGO…"

He flinched back at the odd, distorted, voice, before leaning back in. "Alright. Who is this, and you do know that wasting police time is a criminal offence?"

"WE WOULD NOT WANT TO WASTE THE TIME OF ONE GREAT DANCER SUCH AS POLICE CHIEF BOGO!"

He went silent, frozen like a deer in headlights.

"WOW… YOU ARE ONE GREAT…"

"Who are you and what do you want!" Bogo screamed back into the phone. "I'll have you know that I cannot be compromised by such simple blackmail."

"WE DO NOT WANT YOU TO BREAK THE LAW. MERELY ABIDE BY CERTAIN SIMPLE REQUESTS…"

"Or, what?" the Chief queried.

"OR WE HAVE A COMPROMISING VIDEO."

"And what will you do with it?" he said, his nostrils flaring. "Try putting it up on the internet, I can have it taken down in seconds."

"WHICH IS WHY WE'LL EMAIL IT TO ONE NICHOLAS PIBERIUS WILDE."

"Oh."

He shook his head though and huffed. "If you think I'll break some law to save myself some embarrassment, you are sorely mistaken! After all, the embarrassment of breaking the law would be far greater than any video like this. You really don't think this through, do you!"

"I THINK YOU WILL FIND OTHERWISE…."

.

.

.

.

Meanwhile, in a different office, Basil and Dave were speaking into a microphone. The former taking the lead, the other following, the delay added to the electronic distortion they were applying, keeping their identities secret for now.

"Let's play a game!" They said together. "We give you requests to do, you do them. Starting with a simple one. Individually compliment all officers today at today's rollcall."

…

"Is that you, Wilde!?"

"No!" they called out together. "Try again next time, Buffalo Butt…"

.

.

.

.

"Alright, alright!" Bogo announced, as he walked into the bullpen. He paused, looking back at Higgins, before speaking. "Crisp shirt today," he noted, sending the hippo blinking.

"Uhhh, thanks, sir."

There was a whisper from the crowd, Bogo internally gritting his teeth. He didn't know who these jokers were, but he could manage this for them, not that he liked it. "Rhinowitz, you're looking alert today, partner with Fangmeyer and continue with your regular patrols. Fangmeyer," he said, looking at the wolf of that name. "I've noticed you've been keeping good care of your fur. Keep it up."

"Uhh…" he began. "Sir, yes, sir!"

Chief Bogo then turned to the other Fangmeyer, the tigress. "Fangmeyer, that's a finely polished badge by the way; McHorn, I note your horn is in excellent shape; Johnson, your mane is looking fine today. The ZTN has reported a series of copper thefts, go to their main headquarters and they'll lead you from there. Jackson, your stripes are looking good; Wolfard, I must complement your howl last night; Grizzoli, I see those workouts have been serving you well. We've had reports of vandalism around Okavango Plaza. Investigate. Pennington, those tusks you have coming in are looking good; Delgato, you're a fine example of why your species is called the king of the jungle. Standard patrols. Snarlov, your fur is shining so bright I can't comprehend that it's technically see-through; Anderson, your performance this year is putting you in line for a promotion. Tundratown patrols. Hopps, my best bunny; Wilde, my best fox, meet up with Catano for your briefing. Any questions?"

The sound of every mammal bar one's paw going up filled the room, followed by a singular groan.

"Would you all like this to be the last time I compliment any of you?"

The sound of every paw bar one going down filled the room.

…

"-Yes, Wilde…"

The fox looked at him in complete sincerity and spoke. "I'd just like you to know sir that professional help is available."

…

"I don't know if that is snark or genuine concern, but I don't care. Dismissed."

.

.

.

Bogo groaned as his phone rang, bringing it up to his ear. "Now what?"

"THAT WAS A START. NEXT, YOU WILL GO TO THE DISPATCH DESK AND ENGAGE IN CONVERSATION WITH OFFICER BENJAMIN CLAWHAUSER ABOUT YOUR FAVOURITE MUSICIAN."

The sound of a phone hanging up and teeth grinding filled the room as he made his way over to the cheetah officer. He looked around, seeing not too many mammals in close proximity, before nudging up and whispering.

"Do you want to go up to my office and talk about Gazelle?"

"SSQQUUUUEEEEEEEEEEE…. OH-EM-GOODNESS! WOULD I?"

"I take that as a yes," he groaned, looking around. "Come on, and quietly."

He paused as his phone rang, bringing it up to his ear. "You didn't say where the talk would take place…"

"Uh, Chief?" Clawhauser began.

"I see…" he grunted, sitting down again. "Let's make this brief."

.

(1 hour later)

.

"But I'm telling you. She Wolf is her best song! Yes, it might be a bit ritzy and disco inspired, and to some fans who are in for her vocals it does lack in some of the truly fantastic harmonies that she can do. But it was a homage to her experiences and friendship with various Lupine musicians and assistants. She wanted to embrace the happiness, the fun, and yet the subdued power of those wolves, and give them a fun song they could dance to after a few drinks. Yes, she had to tone down the howls, but every song played on public radio has to do that. Heck, accidentally setting wolves off was what got 'Royals' by Lorde temporarily recalled. Maybe her best song doesn't have to be a city healing giant like 'Try Everything, maybe instead the short fun stuff exemplifies her creativity and playfulness the best…"

"I still think Try Everything is her best piece Chief."

"Tchhh…" he noted, before looking up and pausing as he saw the crowd surrounding him. "Move along," he ordered, as he backed up to his office, staring them all down and off as he went. As he did so, his phone rang.

"Was that enough!?" he grumbled.

"YES. YOU EXCEEDED ALL EXPECTATIONS."

"AND YOU WILL REGRET EVER PULLING THIS ON ME!"

"WHY? YOU'VE ENJOYED IT SO FAR."

"That is beside the point," he hissed. "You've been wasting my time."

"WHAT IF IT HAD A CONSTRUCTIVE PURPOSE?"

"And how would it have that?"

"BROADENING AND EDUCATING YOUR MIND."

"I find that unlikely," he snapped.

"CONSIDER THIS. IF YOU AGREE THAT THIS BLACKMAILING HAS EDUCATED YOU, WILL YOU WAIVE ALL DISCIPLINARY ACTION AGAINST THOSE INVOLVED?"

He could almost feel his teeth about to crack. "You have got to be joking."

"CERTAINLY NOT. IN ANY CASE. CONSIDER THE EMBARRASSMENT OF TRYING TO EXPLAIN THIS IN THE PAPERWORK. WHICH WOULD THEN BE READ BY WILDE."

"You evidently don't know my fox."

"WE KNOW YOUR BUNNY, WHO WILL TELL YOUR FOX."

"…Dammit, okay, you win," Bogo groaned. "Who are you, and what do you want?"

"OH, THAT WAS EASY… -QUIET, YOU'RE RUINING THE EFFECT…. -OOOPS, SORRY…. -HANG ON… -RIGHT THEN… -WOULD YOU ACCEPT THAT YOU'VE BEEN BLACKMAILED?"

"Yes, you blackmailed me," Bogo grumbled, as he entered his office, immediately jolting and slamming his door behind him. He looked at his desk, then back at the phone. "WHY IS THERE A GAZELLE BODY PILLOW ON MY CHAIR!"

"SORRY. THAT WAS FOR THE NEXT PHASE. IT'S SURPLUS TO REQUIREMENTS NOW. EITHER WAY, YOU CAN KEEP IT IF YOU WISH."

The Chief scowled. "I won't humour that with a response."

"REGARDLESS. YOU STATED YESTERDAY THAT A CERTAIN SUBSET OF MAMMALS COULD NEVER BLACKMAIL YOU AND, IF THEY COULD, YOU'D BE HAPPY WITH TWO OF YOUR EMPLOYEES PURSUING THEIR LEADS WHEREVER THEY WENT. IS THAT NOT CORRECT?"

"Detectives Dawson," Bogo began, his nostrils flaring. "The only reason I'm not mailing you back to Little Rodentia by slingshot is that I'm a mammal of my word, and I don't know where you are. Consider yourself correct, but consider yourselves on thin enough ice to crack under your own diminutive weight. Do you understand?"

There was a pause, before the natural voices of the two rodents spoke out. "Yes, Sir."

"We'll talk about this later," he said, hanging up the phone and putting it down. He sighed and grunted, before shaking his head. He should have asked what part Wilde had in this, given that the fox had to have a paw in it somewhere. Maybe he was the one who delivered the pillow?

Speaking of such, he had to do something about it.

Sure, it was the Angel with Horns looking radiant, as if she was in one of her own performances. Had it been on a poster, he'd have felt just about confident enough to have it in his own home. Maybe on the inside of a safe?

But a pillow had plenty of negative connotations, and being in the ZPD… He sighed, moving up to it and turning the pillow case inside out. Maybe he could blank it out for now, then secretly present it as a birthday gift to Clawhauser.

He quickly got it off, turned it inside out, and put it back on, then bothering to look.

"-OH GOD! THAT'S WORSE!"

Before he could work out a way to deal with what was on the inside, the crack of his door being broken in to rang out, and the Cape buffalo froze.

He then, slowly, turned around, spotting a familiar female cheetah, bunny, and, worst of all, fox, just standing there.

"Help still available," the vulpine said. "In fact, I could pass you on to my thera…"

"-Can it, Wilde! Why are you three here?"

Judy stepped forwards. "We were waiting for a confirmation of our duties. Catano said you were thinking about something, but neither you or the detectives were around to give us a sign off. Also, we're concerned for you…"

"Why would that be?"

"Well, you have been off this morning."

"Also, that," Nick said, pointing at the pillow. The Chief was certain he was beginning to move into a flirty pose, ready to tease, when Judy gave him a ribbing and a stern look, cutting him off.

"Yeah," Catano added, Bogo noting that the cheetah had her eyes covered and was flinching away. "That…"

"Which, along with my behaviour this morning, was the result of our two rodents," the Chief scowled.

"What!" the cheetah exclaimed.

"Yes, I know…"

"-You really think I'm going to buy that?" she interrupted. "I… -You do realise that's a real person, there, on that pillow?"

"The mice put it…"

"Really?" she asked, pressing. "When and how did the mice do that!"

The Chief groaned, resting his head in his two hooves. "They can explain it when they get here."

"I'll be looking forward to that," she stated, as the Chief got out his phone.

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"-And so, we needed to prove this to him. After Wilde…"

"-Knew it!"

"-Talked about how he liked to make those who looked down on him eat their own words, and just to be clear he knew nothing about this," Basil explained. "We remembered that the Chief said that he'd let us go gallivanting off together if we proved that rodents could blackmail him. So, we did just that, sneaking up on him through the wall and floor spaces, finding about his love of Gazelle. We then had some harmless fun with it the next day, proving our point and, we do have this on recording, saying that we wouldn't face action for it."

"Though you are a fox's whisker away from trouble," Bogo warned, as Nick subconsciously checked to see if he hadn't clipped his recently.

"I'm sorry," Catano said, looking up to Bogo. She then looked down at the mice. "I'm… I'm not sure what I am…"

"Disappointed?" Basil asked.

"No."

"Angry?" Dave pondered.

"Getting there."

"I think it was brilliant," Nick said, giving the rodents a wink.

"But there would have been however many better ways to do it!" Catano scowled.

"Considering he didn't intend to listen, can you name some?" Basil asked.

"I…." she began, pausing to think. "If this Rattigan did exist, surely there'd be files on him from other law law enforcement agencies? Witnesses? Mammals who could testify…?"

There was a pause, as the mice looked at each other. "Well yes, there are the classified Interpol files…" Dave began. "She does have us there…"

"But it could have taken too long, and it wasn't his existence that the Chief was having trouble with," Basil countered. "Look, the Chief now accepts the rodents can blackmail and command much larger mammals into doing their bidding. We've got what we needed in less than twenty-four hours."

"Beats Carrot's personal record," Nick added.

"Yes, you've got Bogo giving you freer reign after humiliating him," she said. "To be fair, I respect him being a mammal of his word, I might not have been able to keep that after something like this… I hope I would. -But if you'd have done it my way, you'd have still got there in the end, without messing with people."

"-Regardless of that, if you needed help chasing them down, I'd have been happy to help," Judy said. "I believe you."

"So, do I," Nick said, stepping forwards. "If you'd have mentioned Rattigan to me, I'd have backed you up."

A pause filled the room, all eyes turning to him.

"You know about him?" Bogo asked.

"Only by reputation," Nick explained. "I used to hear small mammals, mainly rodents, mention his name here and there. Others saying that he was ordering them about, others about 'Felicity taking someone who dared call him a rat'. I heard about a Felicity a few times, a Fidgit once, but I didn't know the context. I just knew it was bad. And then, he vanished."

…

"Right," the Chief announced, groaning. "So, we've got two Detectives who are now no longer respected by me and their main assisting officer. We also might have a 'Rattigan' back in our city somewhere, returned after his long exile."

"Right," Nick began, before turning to the mice. "Where did he go, in the end?"

Basil stepped forwards. "Our last clue on his whereabouts were some enquiries into flying to Yerevyeen, but the trail dies after that. That was over ten years ago."

"Where's that?" Judy asked.

"Capital of Armyeenia," he said. "Interestingly, they have hardly any hyenid's there, the 'yeen' bit is totally unrelated to English whatsoever.

"Former Soeviet Union…" Nick noted. "Why is it ringing such a bell. Why…"

"It's ringing a bell with me, too," Judy said. "But Why? Something with rode… -Oh…"

"Yes?" Basil asked.

She looked up, her ears drooping behind her. "You think that someone in Big's organisation set him up to fall, correct?"

"Correct."

"What about Kozlov?" she asked sadly. "His right paw mammal?"

Basil blinked. "The one who then flew off to the Ewekraine to see a friend right after!" he exclaimed. "Oh, it makes sense now! It's all elementary, Dave! This polar bear gets a better offer from Rattigan, who's been hanging about it the former Union for who knows how long. He's seen the nighthowlers hit Zootopia and wants to return to the city. So, he has the bear collapse Big's empire from within, and then he goes back there to pick him up! Rattigan returns and takes over!"

"He said he'd be in Slav-vulpine or wherever for a month or so," Judy explained. "He really didn't seem like he enjoyed what had happened to Big though, and said stuff about outside forces hurting Fru-Fru. I don't want to think he betrayed him, but thanks to a certain Ewe I know not to trust kind words and such. He was talking about failure before, and gave me an heirloom to look after. -It's still at my place."

The Chief nodded, stepping up to her.

"Can you confirm that he's still out there."

"He's not due to fly back yet," she said. "If you hurry, you might be able to catch him."

The Chief nodded, before turning to the detectives. "I can use five of your holiday days and let you go on your own investigation out there next week. We'll cover travel expenses."

Basil and Dave blinked, looking at him. "That's certainly generous," the former began. "But a rodent carrying airship would take two to three days for just one Atlantic crossing."

"Airship?" the Chief asked, smiling. "This is much too urgent for such a slow form of transport, far too expensive too. We could have you across there by this time tomorrow by booking a cheap rodent seat on a jet."

"Oh," Basil agreed. "Theoretically yes. But there's a reason, besides the small size, that rodent plane tickets are so cheap."

"Uh, Basil…" Dave began.

"-You see, a tiny little bump to you is a rollercoaster to us…"

"-Um, Basil?"

"And a normal flight is quite a frightening affair. We have to wear five-point harnesses…"

"Basil?"

"It's bad enough for short hops, but across a continent and then an ocean, there's a reason very small mammals tend to use airships."

The Chief smiled. "I know that."

"Oh," Basil said, Dave nudging up to him.

"I believe our Chief is insisting on this, too -ehhh, as you put it… 'Get his own back' on us."

"Yes. I see that now."

The Chief clapped his hooves together. "You two should better get packing," he said. "Given that you won't want to eat given what's coming, that gives you plenty of time to prepare."

"Yes…" Basil noted.

"It does," Dave added.

Chief Bogo smiled, this was a good moment. It was just a shame that Wilde, a smug grin growing on his face, was about to ruin it.

"May I say Chief, welcome to the dark side."

He chuckled. This had been a very strange day, and to top it off Wilde had just made a moment even better.

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AN: So, it seems the mice (sort of) get what they want, and Bogo gets his own back. Next chapter, we have lots of characters going to a baby shower hosted by Mr Fox. To quote a bobcat who I have no plans whatsoever of including in my crossover, 'what could possibly go wrong?'

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Kyiv airport. Ewekraine. Twenty hours later.

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"ARGGHHHHH…"

"Ahhhhhhh…."

"ARGHHHHH…."

"Ah-ah-ahhhhhhh…." THUNK…

"Dave! What's happened, the world's still spinning…"

"Mine is too, even though I'm lying on the floor."

"Where on the -AHHHHH!"

"You just tripped over me!"

"So… So I did…"

"Are you okay?"

"No, but that wasn't the trip's fault."

"Same here," Dave groaned. He slowly got onto all fours and, leaning onto a wall, steadied himself. "I… I… -Have you ever been to a paint shop, and seen those shaking devices they use to mix the paint?"

"I… I can finish that sentence by saying I feel the same," Basil whined, getting up to. "Parts of me are aching that I didn't know exist before… But… But we're here now."

"We can spend the night in a hotel and recover, then go up and try to find these guys and stop them."

"I do hope they're up to evil," Basil added. "I don't want this to be a waste of our time."

"Waste of our time!" Dave said. "I don't want that trip to be in vain." He then paused and gulped. "Or the return one."

"Return…?" Basil began, before sinking to his knees, clutching his head and screaming.

"Maybe Rattigan's going back by airship, or regular ship, and we can use that as an excuse to hitch a ride there," he said, before groaning as a new ache came up.

"Yes. Let's go and stop this evil, once and for all," Basil said, before collapsing onto the floor again.

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200km to the North.

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An elderly sow was walking along the tree lined street of the Yerevyeen quarter, past the blooming trees and verdant bushes. On her left were the apartment blocks that made up most of her town and, on the right, the kind of homestead house that she always preferred. Two stories, plastered and painted white and yellow, and with a walled garden that was filled with crops or chickens depending on the species of the resident. Letting herself in, she paused as she heard arguing coming from inside, both mammals angrily yammering at each other in Russian.

"I am telling you Kozlov, this is the optimal frequency! We have it! It must be the same one that she used!"

"But the speed is still too slow. I saw it on that night. It was fast. Faster than we ever achieved before!"

"Well then maybe when you go back to your city, build it and scale it up to full size, we'll hit the speed she did!"

"But she managed with tiny…"

"Pah! We don't get perfection! Why the fuck are you complaining if you can't hold it? What the fuck do you think a truck is for? We both know I don't know how to fucking recreate what the other warrior was using to fly around, but from the second time you know that good old fucking heavy weaponry works!"

"I know it fucking does Jorin! But how do we know if this doesn't work? If it really is true, if there really is no justice, if these people were not avenged, if Sizogo Orla is truly coming back, then I want to know we fucking can win!"

"SO DO I COMRADE!" There was a pause, the sow outside deciding that she might as well knock.

"Maybe if you tweak. Here, let me…"

She knocked, before flinching back as a muffled poof sounded out from inside. There was the sound of some loud braying, and angry 'Fuck-you's', before a table ground across the floor. "Jorin. Mind killing that mammal?"

Waiting a few seconds, she watched as the door opened and an aged mammal, about the size of a wolf, stepped out. The olive furred, hunched back Syrian wild ass, his fur greying, pulled off his goggles and looked at her.

"Mister Jorin," she said. "I bring Perogi and Varenyky."

He nodded, then turned back. "Hey, idiot! It is Babushka with the food."

A massive polar bear walked up behind him, his face covered in ash. "Maybe not kill her yet. I'll get out the wine."