Busy mammals made the spacious HQ foyer feel crowded as a Monday morning subway car. Hardly unusual, but when you need to be somewhere, so little as five steps are too many.
When at Chief Bogo's behest, to be even ten seconds late is a cardinal sin, even on a good day. Judy didn't think for a moment that the wrinkled Mr Cussler would be any more forgiving.
An armed guard greeted Judy and Nick cheerfully and let the two into the chief's office with politeness that just didn't sound right coming from an animal wearing body armor, reflective goggles and a thick balaclava.
What used to be Bogo's work/office space had been completely rearranged. Open case files, police paraphernalia and appropriate knick knacks had been swapped out for plain black office furniture without sundry or decoration. Warmly authoritative had become clinical, and with the manner Mr Cussler sat behind the desk with his graspers together made it clear that it's just the way he wanted it.
"Officers Hopps and Wilde, do come in and be seated," said Cussler, waving them in.
The two nodded and quietly sat down before him.
Cussler unconvincingly said "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance. My predecessor as well as my employer speak very highly of you."
Nick glanced over at Judy expectantly. Judy gave him a subtle nod to continue.
"Speaking of your predecessor, how did you convince him to step aside?" asked Nick boldly, refusing to prevaricate.
Cussler didn't flinch, saying "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, officer Wilde."
"Okay, to call Bogo a stubborn mule is putting it lightly. Without any outside influence, he wouldn't just pop the torch down on the floor and walk away," explained Nick
The gutsy fox then lent toward Cussler and dared, "So what's the story, morning glory?"
After a deliberate pause and a glance at his desktop, Mr Cussler stood and began a dictatorial pace about the room.
"Seeing as it's said and done, I see no harm in enlightening you both. You obviously believe you deserve it," he began.
"Disaster after disaster has struck this city over the last three years. Every instance the outcome is the same: A sluggish and lackadaisical response to an ultimately preventable conflict.
"The Meadows West incident would not and could not have occurred if cleanup of the Bellwether debacle had been properly carried out."
Just last month, a terrorist coup wrapped a frightening grip around the city. The ringleader Ezra Bisonhower turned out to be an associate of Dawn Bellwether, Zootopia's most famous psychopath.
Over the year and a half that passed after Bellwether went behind bars, Bisonhower turned an old hydroelectric plant up in the West end of the meadowlands district into a fortress where he held the reins of his 'freedom fighting' movement.
"As the then-commander of the police force charged with protecting the city and it's residents from such dangers, Bogo must bear the responsibility for all that occurred during his leadership."
Taking her turn to talk, Judy cried "That's not fair!"
"Isn't it? If it were up to me, he'd never wear a badge again, in this or any country. He ought to count himself lucky to not be incarcerated for criminal negligence!" declared Cussler.
"Negligence? Bogo is a lot of things. Bullheaded, bad tempered and even arrogant. But that mammal is a far cry from negligent!" dared Judy.
"Alright then, I'll tell you a little story," started Cussler, taking on the challenge, "A plucky young officer is given a cruel ultimatum by their superior after volunteering out of kindness; forty-eight hours to solve a cold case with absolutely zero leads and no resources.
"If that weren't enough, said superior repeatedly and maliciously impedes the officer's progress every chance he gets. Now I ask you, officer Hopps, does this story sound even remotely familiar?"
Though far from agreeing with the salty creature, Judy had to admit the grim retelling of her first case drove his point home pretty well. Neither she nor Nick had any rebuttal.
"That's right, officer Hopps. I read, and thoroughly so. So if you do not mind, I would very much like to put this pointless discussion behind us and focus on the matter at paw. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes sir, Mr Cussler," said Nick and Judy in unison. This had thus far been an abysmal first impression, they did not want to wake it any worse.
"Excellent," started Cussler, "an archeological expedition team organized by my employers has dropped out of contact and they need to know why. As such…"
Nick interrupted, "Just gonna interject here, while my heart bleeds for those poor nerds out there, what does this have to do with serving and protecting the citizens of Zootopia?"
A noise most akin to a chuckle slipped from Cussler's mouth as he said "I'm terribly sorry, officer Wilde. I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to reveal that to you."
"Of course, your obvious concerns are valid - how can you serve your city from outside it's limits? The short answer is: you can't.
"Now for the long answer, If it weren't already abundantly clear, there are a myriad of ducks and arranging them is taking longer than anticipated. As such, your assistance can do little at this time," explained Cussler.
The way Cussler articulated reality came off as nothing short of pessimistic and to Judy, patronising and belittling. Despite his piercing gaze, Judy had just enough gumption for one more risky question.
"Why us?" she asked.
"Hmph, yes. My employers requested you specifically, officer Hopps. Consulting your briefing, you'll find the location is not far from your home. Simply put, local knowledge is indispensable.
"Interestingly enough, They also insisted that you be the only ZPD officer to bring onboard - a directive I deliberately ignored. Whilst you and officer Wilde are very much the problem children, your effectiveness when working together can hardly be overstated."
Judy couldn't be sure how to feel about that last part, or really any of this exchange. At the very least, Cussler recognized their talent.
"Everything you need to know is contained in these files," said Cussler, sliding a folder toward Judy and Nick respectively, "you're expected at the temporary depot in Bunnyburrow by thirteen hundred hours, you may use any form of transport you wish."
Nick stood suddenly and grabbed onto both folders saying, "Jeez! That's cutting it close. Well, best thing to do is get a move on, eh Carrots?"
Nick didn't wait for a response, shoving Judy's folder into her paws and dragging her off her chair by the wrist.
Nick hurriedly twisted the door handle and called out toward their [acting] superior, "So uh, thanks for the chat, Mr Cussler. Good talk! We'll be seeing you! Just can't wait to file the report for this one!"
Unmoved, Cussler said "One moment, Officer Wilde."
Nick hesitated, Judy shook off his grip with a grumpy frown.
"Time permitting, should there be anything that may benefit you on this unfavorably short notice excursion, I will do the utmost to see it provided," explained Cussler, very matter-of-factly.
Nick nodded and left the room. Ensuring Judy had followed, he closed the door gently.
"What the Hell was that?" asked Judy, half demanding, half concerned.
"I just figured we'd better get this over with," started Nick, adding "that was going nowhere fast."
Judy nodded and the two quickly descended the foyer stairs. They hadn't reached the bottom before the rabbit had more to say.
"You seem almost eager to get out there," remarked Judy, unsure where to take the conversation, "that last offer of his actually sounded genuine."
"It fits his agenda, but while the offer's there, we might as well take it."
"But is it really his agenda?" questioned Judy.
Nick gave her a raised eyebrow.
"What I mean is, you haven't even opened that brief. We know so little and you're racing off!"
Nick stopped, "Oh come on, Carrots, what's the worst that could happen?"
"Oh my God, why do guys always ask the worst questions?" muttered Judy indignantly.
"Sorry, what?"
"Nothing, nothing," said Judy, "we both know Cussler isn't calling the shots here. It's got third-party written all over it."
Nick sighed and said "I know but without any better option, the best we can do is be good little soldiers and follow orders."
"But Nick, that's not the way we do things. That's not us," replied Judy, placing a warm paw on his forearm and looking up at him.
Nick's mouth dried up. It took a moment, but he came up with some good words: "You're right. What we know is… Well, nothing. But that is exactly why we play the game, find out what's in our deck, maybe count a few cards. Catch my drift?"
"Yes, yes I do," smiled Judy, saying, "after all, you did say you needed some extra time away."
"How does this sound, Carrots: You, me, these manila folders and a cup of coffee to figure this all out?" asked Nick with forced suave.
Judy teased, "Romantic. Let's go."
Two thuds with a clink in between followed the harsh sound of grinding beans. Rich brown shots are drawn before a hiss announces the steam wand's readiness. The unmistakable white noise of milk swirling in a metal jug, followed by a waitress' speedy steps heralded the arrival of two fresh cups of espresso coffee.
Seated in a popular cafe right across the central plaza from ZPD HQ, Judy and Nick took a long sip from their mugs in perfect unison, right down to the sigh relief that always follows the first taste.
Not a word passed between them as they read their respective documents. With merely a glance, they swapped papers.
"Feel better about this yet?" asked Nick sarcastically.
Judy huffed, "No. Though if it helps, I can't say I feel any worse… I was hoping to find out who else is going."
Nick gave her an agreeing nod, before saying "It's a little sketchy, but at least it's a job worth doing.. That is to say, we're part of a recovery team. Although we don't know who else is in, they'll have the same goal."
Judy sat up a little straighter, "You're right. Anyways, where we're going? Beautiful! Even in winter."
"Hey! No spoilers. We may be on a mission, but I still want to make the most of it."
Another long sip took place.
"You thought about Cussler's offer?" asked Judy.
"Sorta. Gotta make a few calls," replied Nick.
Judy nodded as she checked the time, "Hmph. It's eight-fifty now, the nine-thirty express can have us in Bunnyburrow by twelve-thirty. That work for you?"
Nick shrugged, "Don't have any better idea. That and I don't want to find out what happens if we miss a Cussler deadline."
With a huff of exasperation, Lilith Watterson returned her desk phone to it's cradle. She took a sip of a red, aromatic tea and sat back, rubbing her temples.
Being the director of an entire division took more out of her than she thought it would. Every day Lilith understood a little more the reasons for her father's eccentricities.
It seemed a good time for it, so the vixen made ready for a brisk walk. She pondered perhaps acquiring a snack or two, maybe even an ice cream. It wouldn't be the first time, though she didn't appreciate the funny looks she got, lapping up a sundae in the middle of winter.
The Wattersons come from North Continentia, the country that runs along the Northern border of the United Continental Territories. It'd be snowing in their hometown of Otterwa, so the midwestern Bunnyburrow felt like a summer holiday.
In the very moment that the arctic fox began to stand, the landline on her desk blared. She slumped in her seat and groaned with discontent. She lent forward and limply pushed the speaker button.
"Good morning, Project Phoenix, division director speaking," she said, making her best attempt to sound professional.
A sharp and posh voice replied, "Hello. This is Cussler. I have an additional member for the recovery team, a suggestion I recently received."
Not in the mood for nonsense, Lilith appreciated Cussler's avoidance of chit-chat, "Oh hi Alastair. Sorry to say, but we already have a full complement. If the expedition team needs to be evacuated-"
Lilith stopped talking when she spotted a familiar name appear on her phone screen.
"Miss Watterson, you were saying?" asked Cussler, to break the awkward stilt.
"Oh! Right, sorry. I'm getting a call from Dad's assistant," explained Lilith.
"T'would be acceptable to place me on hold, should there be an emergency in need of tending, ma'am," Cussler commented.
"Gotcha," said Lilith, thumbing the hold key and scooping her cellphone up from the desk.
"Hi, Sydney! How are you?"
"I'm quite well, thank you ma'am. And yourself? I hope the new position isn't too draining for you," said a friendly, butler type voice.
"Ugh. Don't even get me started… Anyways, what can I do for you?"
"Unfortunately, I am the bearer of bad news. Mr Snortson is the victim of quite the debacle."
"Snortson? Who is… Wait, Leslie Snortson is supposed to be my field engineer!" shrieked Lilith, "what the Hell happened?"
"He has broken his ankle. More specifically, he tripped on a greasy ten millimeter socket and fell into a mechanic's pit," explained Sydney, sorrowfully.
"Oh God, freaking typical. Thanks, Sydney. Take care, don't let Dad look at his wedding tape again," said Lilith dejectedly."
"Righto, ma'am. As for the tape, I hid it long ago. I don't think I could handle that again. Anyway, farewell, Miss Watterson."
In between rubbing her temples, Lilith put her cellphone back down and resumed Cussler's call.
"All in order?" he asked.
"Turns out I'm down an overweight field engineer," explained Lilith, "how soon can this additional member be down here?"
"If you approve, he will be brought by ornithopter alongside Major Pearce. I'll produce a rough dossier for you so you can review his credentials," explained Cussler.
"Cuss, I'm going to level with you: Too much has happened today. To. Many. Phone calls. I just want the recovery team at full strength, don't give a shit who's in it. Capisce? Verstehen? Comprendre?"
"Sì, jawoll, oui. Understood, ma'am."
End Notes
It's actually kind of sad sometimes, to cut ideas out of a story. That being said, if it's to ensure the continued likability of the lead character, it's hardly a sacrifice at all.
In my fanon's history, the americas are simply known as the 'new continent' or 'Continentia'. The UCR and North Continentia are simply Zootopified facsimiles of USA and Canada respectively.