DISCLAIMER: I was riding the New Orleans trolley, when a pretty lady and a handsom man boarded, talking about a place called Tianna's. Then this massive alligator climbed on behind them. I was so scared, I ran the hell away from there. Turns out I left my bid to own Zootopia on the trolley seat.
Thanks to GusTheBear and TheoreticallyEva for reviewing this chapter! You guys are phenomenal!
"Normally, I'm not involved in this sort of thing. But trying times call for a break in the norm," the Cape buffalo police chief intoned as he stared at the mammal across from him. "We need an outsider's opinion, to put it bluntly. I have reason to believe our mechanic isn't performing his tasks to the requirements of the department."
The mammal sitting across from the police chief's desk cocked her head. "How so?" She had a thick accent from somewhere overseas—Europe, if Bogo had to guess.
"I've come across some…irregularities in his reports. I need an outsider's opinion. Your name came across my desk."
"What sort of irregularities?"
"That's something you need to report back to me on. Your resume says you graduated from Zootopia University with a degree in heavy mechanical repair, diesel and gasoline, all mammal sizes certified. We don't see that often, especially with mammals in your size class. That training should be enough to let you find those discrepancies, correct?"
The other mammal sniffed. "Of course. It would be faster if I knew what I was looking for, though."
Bogo sighed. "I wish I could tell you why we're doing it this way. We have to maintain a degree of accountability here. You'll get access to all the vehicle maintenance records for the last few months. It'll be your job to determine if it was actually done to the vehicle correctly. If anyone asks, call it a city-mandated audit."
There was another reason, but Bogo couldn't mention it to her. The recommendation had come from one of the mechanics in the Tundratown precinct, who had worked with the mammal's family until he'd switched jobs and started work for the ZPD. The mammal before him, the daughter of a private shop owner in the perpetually frozen area of the city, had been looking for fleet mechanic work for a while, all while working for her father. She'd gained some notice in the ZPD already when she came to the rescue of a cruiser that had broken down next to the climate wall. A bad situation on the best of days, the fact that the mammals inside were used to the dry, hot climate of Sahara Square made the situation even worse.
Instead of towing the cruiser back to the precinct, however, the young mechanic had spotted the problem and fixed it herself using the parts she had available in her tow truck, then waived the officers off when they'd tried to pay her. When the city tried to reimburse her and her father, both had refused.
When the Tundratown precinct mechanic had recommended her, he'd mentioned that she was offering free inspections to a few city services, including the Zootopia Transit Authority's bus division, taxi and limo services, and courier services, in return for a work recommendation or future employment. It was an unorthodox strategy, to say the least.
For Bogo, the unusual methods didn't bother him. He'd seen enough of that with Hopps and Wilde in the last year to know that mammals didn't have to conform to some expectation to be effective or even excellent in their field, so he'd had the chief of the ZPD mechanical department interview her a week prior. They'd come back to the chief hours later with glowing reviews.
The two had elected to involve Mammal Resources only minimally, considering it both part of an investigation and potential training for replacement. All of her work would be verified by the previous inspections, and by mechanics in the other precincts where she found something new or unreported.
For Bogo, too, it would be the light at the end of a proverbial tunnel. Ever since his last confrontation with the Precinct One mechanic, he'd been discreetly having cruisers randomly sent to other precincts for their routine inspections. They'd found unrepaired problems and foregone maintenance on almost all of them. Digging deeper into the Precinct One mechanic's history, he'd discovered several failed proficiency checks from when the mammal had attempted to undergo officer training in an apparent career switch attempt, with Major Friedkin noting his poor performance in several key areas.
The wildebeest had apparently gone back to his job as the Precinct One mechanic, but his performance had gone downhill starting when Hopps had graduated, accelerating when she and Wilde had solved the Bellwether incident. The apparent bias against the two small officers overheard by Richard Silverwolf and captured on the precinct security cameras and audio recordings had confirmed it for them.
The ZPD commissioner and the mayor had approved a covert investigation under the guise of a surprise audit by the city of the ZPD's mechanic facilities, and they'd supposedly hired an independent contractor to do it.
That was the cover story, anyways. Bogo shook his head and brought himself back to the conversation.
"I understand, sir," the new hire said. "But… if I may ask, why me, and why now?"
The chief thought for a moment. "I can answer the why you, and that's because you came recommended by the mechanics in Tundratown, and you have a history of helping the ZPD. As for the why now... Unfortunately, that's something I can't tell you yet."
The cream-coloured mammal shrugged her shoulders. "Ah, I get it. Something super classified. Need to know. I-could-tell-you-but-I'd-have-to-kill-you sort of thing."
"Nothing so dramatic as that," the Chief said. 'But it could put all of us in some pretty hot legal water if this got out too soon, and this way, you have complete deniability,' he added silently. Even with the known shortcomings of his current mechanic, the roundabout way they were interviewing and testing his replacement could be considered a conspiracy of sorts. "If that's acceptable to you, please sign this services contract, and our chief mechanic will brief you on your responsibilities."
The mammal then spent several minutes looking over the contract before signing her name with a flourish.
"Thank you, Ms. Karlek. I'll call the chief mechanic in Precinct Three and let him know you are on your way. Unfortunately, we can't offer you transportation. I hope you understand."
The cream fox shook her head. "That is fine. I'd rather take my truck, if it's all the same to you."
Skye Karlek shook the police chief's hoof and headed out of the office. The few officers she passed glanced at her and looked away, likely assuming she was just another mammal here to pester the chief about her missing spouse. Given what the chief had implied, it seemed that he was having troubles with one of the mechanics and was looking for as much likaa on them as he could find. If she played her cards right and did her job, this might be her chance to get her paw in the door as a fleet mechanic. While she loved working on vehicles, engines, and mechanical equipment, she hated the customer service aspect of it. After being rejected for fleet work time and time again because of her species, she'd been starting to give up.
Maybe the ZPD would be different. They did hire that red fox she'd come to idolize, after all.
Linus Ford stared across the conference table at the small army of wood bison lawyers in front of him. Each one bore the smug look he'd come to expect from major corporate attorneys that felt they held all the cards.
He'd seen it hundreds of times before.
The looks hadn't changed as he'd laid out all the evidence he had against Furston, including Marian's own pay and financial records going back through her entire employment with the company, her qualifications and skills, how she was passed over again and again for raises and promotions, only to be used as a company scapegoat when she finally did get promoted. The original fund transfers were sealed up in the ZPD evidence vault, but the copies he had for his case were certified and admissible in court. He'd managed to get a copy of the security recordings of the vixen making the initial delivery of the agreement, and it showed herself signing the document along with McStripeson at the same time, then taking it straight to the accounting department. No detours at all.
"Our problem, Mr. Ford," said one of the bison, "is that even if your client did indeed not receive any financial compensation from the monetary transfers, she still participated in it. You allege she had no knowledge of the embezzlement, yet you have no proof of that, beyond her word. Not to mention that she never spoke a word about her alleged suspicions to anyone at Furston. Unfortunately, you also have the ZPD on your side, so that puts us in a bind."
The bison speaking looked at the others. "We're prepared to offer your client the equivalent of half a year's pay before taxes, at the rate at which she was paid prior to her termination, with none of the benefits, on the condition that the details of the settlement remain private, that you rescind your lawsuit against the company, and that you make a public statement that your client voluntarily retired from the company."
Linus Ford almost laughed at the absurdity of their offer. "Half a year's pay before taxes amounts to about twenty-five thousand dollars. There isn't any situation where I would consider that a fair compensation for the years of discrimination she's faced at your company, the loss of income she's been forced to endure while in protective custody, along with the emotional pain your company has caused her by smearing her name across the news—which is slander, as you know—and for whistleblowing a crime. We—"
"Allegedly. Allegedly whistleblowing."
"—reject your offer, and the conditions associated with it," the wolf attorney continued as though he hadn't been interrupted.
The lead Furston lawyer scowled. "We will not be making any other offer. Take it or leave it."
Ford shook his head. "You would rather we take this before the courts?"
"No, we would rather you accept the offer, which, under the circumstances, we believe is more than fair. If you don't accept, then I'm afraid there is no other option but to take it to the courts." The bison crossed his arms.
"Your offer could in no way cover the grievances my client has with your company, now or in the future. We escalate this to the courts."
The expressions on all of the bisons' muzzles turned from smug to an even deeper scowl.
"Very well," said the same bison as before. "This case goes to court. I had hoped you would see the futility of that, but if that's what you insist on, so be it. I hope you are prepared for a fight." The group gathered up their folders, including those of the copies Ford made for them of the evidence against the company, and left, leaving the wolf to sigh and massage his forehead. He knew this was going to be an uphill battle, and damn, if his opponents weren't delivering. He had no intention of settling for anything less than what he felt Marian deserved for decades of discrimination and her name all but publicly destroyed.
It had been a long road already, with McStripeson's lawyers failing to accede to his demands first, then Furston's, and now rumours had begun floating around that the company was in deep financial trouble. The company's insurance would be forced to pay out when the company coffers couldn't, so the wolf suspected that they were also looking through their contracts for an exit clause. He had to move fast to ensure that he could secure the compensation Marian deserved.
That wasn't the only case he had going against Furston, though. The firm as a whole was involved in one of several class action suits against the company, totalling well over one billion dollars. The last two months had been a rush to lay everything out, especially with the company lawyers digging in their heels every step of the way.
Marian's case was unique, however. The class action suits generally revolved around the mishandling of the crisis and the suffering that involved, while the vixen's case was because of her involvement with the police, discrimination, and wrongful termination. It was one that he was determined to win.
The wolf thought back to the original savage mammal cases over a year ago. He still didn't remember anything of his time as a savage wolf, but when he was finally brought back, more than three months after the conspiracy by the former mayor was uncovered, he'd taken it upon himself to uncover everything he could about what had happened and who was responsible. In all of that research, two names kept coming up—Nicholas Wilde and Judith Hopps—and he'd resolved to do what he could, should they ever need legal assistance.
The wolf made his way back to his office, already planning his next moves. It was a game of legal chess now, and victory depended on making the right moves and countermoves. Because his client deserved it.
For Judy, it was like getting out of jail, in a way. Sitting behind the wheel of their familiar cruiser again took her back to the day when they had first been presented with it, custom modified for their smaller stature but still capable of transporting all but the largest of megafauna. That day had also been Nick's first day on the force, the day they caught Flash and his racing antics.
It had been a good day.
Today felt like that day, but with the dark pall of recent events still clouding their subconscious. Emergency services were still bursting at the seams trying to stay on top of things, and it was to one such call that Nick and Judy were now racing, full lights and sirens. They'd gotten a call that a savage mammal had been seen in a house in Savannah Central, and their unit was the closest—and quickest—to respond.
As they pulled up to the suburban bungalow, nothing seemed particularly amiss. The two secured their cruiser just as Fangmeyer and McHorn showed up to provide backup. They approached the home, all senses attuned and listening for any sign of danger. The grass was cut short, and there were no nearby shrubs or trees for a savage predator to hide behind. Both kept their senses on high alert as they approached the front door and knocked, identifying themselves as police.
The only sounds came from inside, as a mammal could be heard moving around, but it sounded like they weren't trying to make themselves unheard, or moving on all fours, as a savage mammal would. This was confirmed when a gangly jaguar answered the door, looking a little peeved.
"I was in the middle of kicking ass in an online tournament. What do you two want?" The male cat's voice was testy.
Judy gave him her usually sunny smile. "I'm sorry, sir. We received a report of a savage mammal at this address, and we had to check it out. Do you mind if we look around?"
The jaguar's expression grew more upset. "I'm the only one who lives here. This is my place, and I sure as hell didn't call you guys. No savage mammals here. You're welcome to look for yourself, though." The last part was spoken with a bit of reluctance.
The two searched the house and came up empty. Satisfied there was no savage mammal, they turned their attention to the jaguar himself. "Do you have anyone that would want to hurt you by calling a savage mammal response on you?" Judy couldn't help but feel for the mammal into whose life she'd just barged.
"I'm a pro gamer. I have enemies everywhere. That's the thing about the business—zealous fans and dangerous enemies are amplified online. You guys investigated me a few years ago because a hacker group would attack an online service whenever I lost a match, even an exhibition one. I've had life and doxing threats sent my way more times than I can count." The cat sighed. "This may just be the worst so far. At least I wasn't swatted."
"You very nearly were, sir," Judy commented dourly, reading over her notes. Based on what she had seen and heard, there was no reason to stay here. There was, however, a reason to have dispatch trace the call and find out where it came from. She gave the jaguar a business card. "We won't take any more of your time here. Let me know if anyone in particular comes to mind or if you have any further information."
"Yeah, sure. Thanks, I guess."
The four officers left the house, promising to get to the bottom of the call. "Dispatch, Zulu 240 here. This one was a fake. Can we get a trace on the call?"
"240, dispatch, glad it's you and not that fox I'm hearing. I'll get that trace for you. Accident or prank?"
Judy glared at the radio. "Assume it was a prank call, Antlerson." She looked at Fangmeyer and McHorn, the latter of whom had his normal serious expression, while Fangmeyer was scowling almost as much as Judy was.
Savage mammal cases—genuine ones, anyways—had dropped to almost nothing. Even savage mammal traps were being triggered less and less, down from several times per hour—often netting more than one mammal—to only several times per week. What hadn't dropped was the number of paranoid and prank savage mammal calls. That had gone up, and Bogo had long ago instructed officers to show no quarter when charging mammals with misuse of the emergency line and public mischief.
In one of his many public appearances, he'd implored the general public to stop with the prank calls, commenting, "Every time we have to respond to a prank call—and we do have to respond to every call—it means that those resources, be it the mammal answering the emergency call, our dispatchers, our officers, or fire or ambulance personnel, are not available to answer a call from someone who may have a genuine emergency. You put not only your target's life at risk, but the lives of others who desperately need our help."
What disturbed Judy the most was that the number of mammals charged for pranking hadn't improved, but had gone up, as though taunting the chief. The chief did not like to be taunted, and several mammals swore they could see steam jetting from the Cape buffalo's ears when they had to report a prank call to him.
It was five minutes before Antlerson called them back. "240, this is dispatch."
"Dispatch, 240, go ahead."
"240, I have the trace on that emergency line call for you. Came from a landline at 114M Creeping Sands Way, Sahara Square, caller identified himself as Iam Adufus."
Judy stared hard at her radio, while Nick and Fangmeyer snorted in laughter. "Seriously, dispatch?"
"That's what I've got for the transcript, 240. Line is registered to a Chace MacGuiver, though."
"And the call center operator had him spell it?"
"Affirmative, 240. I-A-M A-D-U-F-U-S. Do you copy?"
Judy rolled her eyes, trying to avoid snickering herself. "Yes, dispatch, we copy. Thanks for the address." She paused. "Better have someone else visit…him. We're as far away from Sahara Square as we can get. Better let Chief Bogo know, too." She ended the conversation before bursting into a fit of laughter herself. "No way I was going to read back THAT name!"
"Aww, come on, Carrots, I was hoping you would so that I could say, 'Yes, Carrots, yes, you are a doofus'."
"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you, dumb fox?" She punched the fox in question on the shoulder. "I imagine someone is going to have a very bad day at Chace MacGuiver's house today. Let's go."
The four piled back into their cars just in time to hear Antlerson call another unit to the Sahara Square address. Nick checked their information terminal, and, not seeing any calls in their area, suggested they head south to the waterfront area for the last hour of their shift.
Such were the days when they weren't helping Nolwazi Longtooth and Shawn Dancing Rivers to sort through the mountains of evidence and information that had been seized over the course of the last two months, or interviewing witnesses, friends, and family members of both the victims and the perpetrators of the attacks. Like with Bellwether, the city was moving for an expedited trial schedule, and the ZPD had to be prepared for that.
A side effect of the attack was that traffic violations were way down, compared to the same time the previous year. With fewer mammals out and about, it came as a natural by-product, and it wasn't uncommon for parking duty to go unassigned for several days at a time.
The end of their shift came around without further incident, though they did get a chuckle when the radio call came in that the so-called Iam Adufus had been placed under arrest and was being taken for booking at Precinct Ten with charges of mischief, misuse of the emergency line, and public endangerment. Paperwork was light, and before long, the pair were in their street clothes and headed to a familiar safehouse in a suburb of Savannah Central.
The door of the safehouse opened before they could even knock, Bert Grizzoli standing on the other side, with Nolwazi Longtooth standing just beyond.
"Nicky! Judy!" Marian rushed over and embraced first her son, then his mate. The vixen was still a bit gentle with the doe, despite the bunny having a clean bill of health, but Judy didn't mind. "How are you two? How was your day?"
"Mostly paranoid and prank callers, Mom, but one did admit he was a doofus."
That got an odd look from Longtooth and Grizzoli. Judy winked. "Check the emergency line callers when you get back to the station for around three p.m. Prank call, and he had a doozy of a name."
"Ah," the lioness intoned. "Oh, I was just telling Marian that she'll be heading home tomorrow, but we'll have a unit watching her apartment for a while."
"Thank heaven. As nice as this safe house is, and as nice as everyone has been that dropped by, it'll be nice to get back into my own apartment and my own bed."
Grizzoli snorted. "Oh, I get you, Marian. I think a hotel has a bit more character than this place does." He looked around at the cheap, generic paintings that adorned the walls, and the neutral, muted colours.
"Not much you could have decorated with, though, even if it was your place." Judy pointed out.
"That's true. Not being able to go out has been a pain." A chime sounded from the vixen's phone. "That would be the oven. I just baked some homemade bread, so we can have some sandwiches for dinner if you want. I'm afraid I don't have anything else ready at the moment."
The others agreed that that would be fine, though Longtooth declined, citing a need to get back to the station to take care of the piles of work to do there. The four remaining mammals bid her farewell and settled down for a meal.
Mvivu Chidozie grumbled under his breath as he watched the oil drain from another ZPD cruiser. He still couldn't believe that Chief Bogo had gone over his head and delegated HIS work on the mechanics of other precincts. Worse was that the chief apparently didn't believe him when he'd said that they were all busy. The chief had called his bluff, or so he'd heard from the other mechanics.
The mechanic barely noticed as he continued his grumbling, going about his tasks without really paying attention to what he was doing. This whole last year and a half had just been one long downhill trip, ever since first he'd been expelled from the police academy and forced back into his old role as the precinct mechanic. Grease Goose. That's what the officers called him behind his back, he was certain.
It had only gotten worse when Bogo had hired that stupid rabbit, and then the fox. Every time he saw them, it was a reminder of how he'd been cheated. The wildebeest barely suppressed a snarl at that thought. They didn't belong in police work. They were too small to be useful. How could they, being smaller and therefore weaker than he was, pass the academy apparently as valedictorians, while he failed when he couldn't knock out a rhino? It was impossible! The only explanation was that the cards had been stacked against him, since other wolves and smaller ungulates had also graduated.
HE should be the one out on the streets saving mammals and breaking big cases, not some uppity miniatures.
At least he'd been able to pull a little weight by giving Internal Affairs the truth about Bogo and his prize "officers". Given that all three were still on the force, though, it seemed that there was a bigger conspiracy afoot. Replacing the drain plug and wiping his hooves with a rag, he lowered the vehicle lift and moved to continue his work under the hood, grumbling the whole time.
It wasn't until a few minutes later that he heard someone calling his name. Shaking himself out of his fuming, he turned to see that precinct-transfer lioness detective staring him down. "What?!"
The lioness raised her eyebrow. "I've been trying to get ahold of you on your extension for the past ten minutes. I had to come down here to get your attention. Something wrong?"
'Only you people and your exclusive little club,' the wildebeest thought. The lioness detective's eyebrows went up further.
"I came to let you know to expect another pair of cruisers for a rush job," she said. "They got involved in a protest up on Pack Street. Windows were broken."
"Fantastic."
"Isn't it, though? We'll need them back in working order stat. They were Pennington and Trunkaby's cruisers."
The wildebeest shook his head. "Always a rush. Just bring them to the garage, and I'll sort it out."
Longtooth nodded and retreated, leaving the wildebeest alone with his thoughts again. Out of sight, the lioness detective frowned. She hadn't missed the comment about her 'exclusive little club' and she suspected it wasn't supposed to have been overheard, or even spoken. The mammal had seemed distracted as well, only lazily going about his tasks, and she wondered just how concerned she should be.
The feline decided she should probably mention it to Bogo, just in case, and that was where she headed next.
Steve Furshaw pored over his notes as he sat in the C-suite conference room of the Furston headquarters. The last eight weeks had been hell for his company in more ways than one, and they desperately needed to turn things around. It seemed as though the spirits were out to get the coyote. Two nights ago, some hooligans had snuck past his estate gate, evaded his security guard, and peppered the side of his mansion with eggs and tomatoes. The police had looked at the scene and the security camera footage but ultimately said that it probably wouldn't be worth pursuing. That hadn't deterred the coyote, nor had the graffiti that had been painted on his estate wall about Furston's apparent failure to handle the antidote crisis. He told the police that he wanted to bring the mammals responsible up on charges, whatever it took.
The police had simply nodded, taken a copy of the security footage, and told them they'd be in touch if they found any suspects, but they were not optimistic.
So much for protect and serve.
This morning, his limo had also been egged as it tried to navigate through the crowd of mammals on his way into the Furston office building. The crowd had been surrounding the building for weeks—protestors no doubt upset with the fact that the company's factories were working around the clock to produce the antidote, and that no one had taken up his company's offer to provide the vaccine to other companies in exchange for fair market royalties, and later for no royalties at all when Brayer had confirmed success with their own vaccine and promised an adequate supply to the city once they were satisfied with all of the subsequent tests.
The coyote stood as the rest of the board began filing into the room, greeting each one in turn with a paw shake and an offer of snacks and coffee. The mood of the rest of the board members was dour, and he could understand why. Their company was not in a good position.
That was certainly exemplified by how quickly the meeting had been called. Once all of the board members were present and seated, the CEO and chairmammal called the meeting to order, gave a brief summary of the events within the company over the last week, and then moved on to the topic of the Night Howler crisis.
"Our factories have reported a ten percent increase in efficiency in producing the antidote over the last week. We can now produce the antidote that much faster so that we can get out of this nightmare."
"On the contrary, Mr Furshaw. This nightmare has just begun," the musk deer board member stated. "You all know the ZPD raided our information technology center a couple of weeks ago, and we have our legal department full to bursting with lawsuits to the tune of several billion dollars. On top of it all, sales have been at an all-time low, except to the city for the antidote, and even that is now in jeopardy." The deer produced a sheet of paper. "City council just passed a motion to make medical supply monopoly illegal, and they have moved to seize our formula."
The spotted hyena board member produced another paper from her briefcase. "Our stocks have fallen by ninety-five percent in two months. Diego Bay Capital Management, our largest shareholder, teamed up with the rest of the major shareholders, and they passed a vote yesterday, Mr. Furshaw."
The coyote hadn't heard that. "About what?"
"Mr. Furshaw, our shareholders have voted to remove you from your position as chairman of the board and CEO of this company."
A/N
Well. New face shows up, someone digs their hole deeper, someone pranks the ZPD, and someone's fresh out of a job. Oops.
Things are still locked up pretty tight where I live. Not even restaurants are allowed to have visitors. Some still do, though , and they've gotten in trouble for it.
Someone found a reference in the last chapter! Can you find any references in this one?
Coming up on March 5: Out of One Fire, Into Another!
Questions? Critiques? Did you have to kiss a talking frog? Leave a comment!