"Learn the rules like a pro, so you can break them like an artist." - Pablo Picasso
2:00 P.M ; Downtown Zootopia...
Mere minutes after being judged fit for duty by EMTs, Harlan and Mary stood at attention before an irate Lieutenant Hopps. Their straight, stiff postures were the closest resemblance to order as they stood on the side of the road before the pieces of the wreck. The flashing blue and red lights of Judy's cruiser were difficult to look at for Harlan and Mary, but not nearly as hard as looking at the furious face of their superior officer.
"What were you thinking!?" The rabbit shouted as she paced back and forth before them. She gesticulated wildly in Harlan's direction. "Were you thinking at all!? How could you have possibly thought this was a good idea!?"
Harlan didn't reply. The wolf stared stoically into the distance, lips pressed into a thin line.
Judy stopped dead. Her nearly manic energy dropped suddenly into icy calm. Placing her paws on her hips, she turned to glare up at the wolf. "Officer O'Conall, I asked you a question."
The rabbit's tone brooked no argument. A minute shift of Harlan's shoulders showed his discomfort, and his paws tensed nervously. "Clovestone was up to something. I thought I could catch him in the act."
"You thought he was up to something?" Judy parroted back, tone incredulous. "Of course he's up to something! That's why we're investigating him," she explained slowly, as though to a particularly dim kit. "Which will be that much more difficult because now he knows he's being watched. There's a reason for protocol, O'Conall, and you don't get to shirk it whenever you want. The next time you have a thought about taking matters into your own paws, do us all a favor and let-it-go."
The scathing rebuke set Harlan's ears back. His lips worked and he swallowed, but, in what was undoubtedly his smartest move that day, he kept silent.
Satisfied she'd made her point, Judy's flinty gaze fell on Mary. The ewe wilted under the pressure; her shoulders drooped, and her gaze fell to the pavement.
"You could have grabbed that radio at any time, Officer Ewever. Why didn't you?"
The rabbit's cold tone sent an icy feeling down Mary's spine, and she shivered. It wasn't a feeling she was used to from someone like Judy.
"Er, well, I told Officer O'Conall we should-"
"I think we've well established what O'Conall's thoughts were, and what value they have," Judy harshly cut in. "I asked you why you didn't grab that radio."
Mary trembled in place. She didn't say anything. She didn't look like she could.
Judy's lip curled as her exasperation threatened to teeter into disgust. "If O'Conall even hinted that he was going to stop you with violence, you should have tazed him, and he would have deserved it! You can't let bigger mammals push you around, Ewever! You can't be indecisive! You're ZPD! Act like it!"
All Mary could do was stare at the ground and tremble. When it was clear she'd get no useful response, Judy's glare switched back to Harlan. She looked sorely tempted to tear another strip off, but she mastered herself with a deep breath through the nose. The bunny remembered her first few days as an officer - her chase against Weaselton, and how she had acted against protocol in the spur of the moment. The irony of now being in the same position Chief Bogo had been in then didn't escape her.
"Both of you go home," she finally said. "I have to report this to Bogo."
"But Lieutenant Hopps," Harlan started. "Clovestone is still-!"
"You don't need to worry about Rupert Clovestone anymore, Officer O'Conall. You're off the case," Judy retorted harshly. Harlan's mouth snapped shut. "Report first thing tomorrow for reassignment. Both of you," she emphasized with a look in Mary's direction, which the ewe could not meet. Then Judy turned back to her erstwhile subordinate. "And Harlan? Bring a change of civilian clothes. I'm going to beg Bogo for your job, but after this fiasco, I don't know if it'll be enough."
Meanwhile, somewhere in Savanna-Central...
The battered black van ground to a halt in the empty parking lot, crushing a bag of trash beneath one of its back wheels. A boar in a gray trench coat and matching fedora exited the driver's side door before slamming it shut behind him.
"The boss isn't gonna like this…" He grumbled to himself as he approached the back of the vehicle.
Without words, a black furred rabbit in an oversized white blazer lept from the passenger's side, following calmly behind him.
The boar yanked open the back door, causing an elderly markhor to tumble out into a crumpled heap on the pavement. His immaculate brown vest and identically colored slacks were now a wrinkled mess, and his glasses had snapped in half around his brow. His face had landed dangerously close to the leaking garbage bag the van had flattened.
"Uh-oh." Mr. Boarton muttered, gruff voice taking on an uncharacteristic hint of fear.
"Did we break him?" The rabbit asked, voice betraying no concern over whether or not they had.
Rupert Clovestone groaned, limbs twitching as he wearily lifted his head and the gigantic, twisted horns atop them. "You miserable lunatics… were you trying to kill me?!"
"He's fine." Virginia concluded before turning around and keeping watch for any unwanted attention, white blazer fluttering in the warm savanna breeze.
"Sorry about that," the boar said as he knelt to Rupert's height. "Had to lose a tail."
Mr. Boarton tried helping Rupert to his feet, but the markhor pushed him away. "I can do it myself!" He snapped as he shakily hauled himself upright. He pushed his hooves against the small of his back, spawning a harsh cracking sound, and then slumped back into his usual posture with a relaxed sigh. "Why did I have to ride in the filthy backside?"
"It was the only place we could fit you." Mr. Boarton replied, gesturing to the markhor's horns, silently grateful that they hadn't impaled him during the chase.
"Please tell me you at least lost our pursuers?" Rupert grumbled as he tried to piece his glasses back together before irritably shoving them into a pocket inside his vest.
"Oh yeah, we lost them alright," Virginia replied, distant gaze unmoved. "Boarton's bad driving caused a huge pileup. They won't be following us anytime soon."
"Can confirm!" A new, whimsical voice interjected.
All eyes turned to stare down the flying squirrel as he landed atop the roof of the van and perched like a gargoyle, his skintight black bodysuit blending in with the dark paint.
"That was quite the great escape!" Peter cackled, smiling down at the others. "I couldn't do much from above, but boy did you make it entertaining!"
"Who was following us?" Rupert demanded to know, earning a shrug from the flying squirrel.
"It was just an ordinary, medium-sized vehicle. But if I were a betting mammal, then I'd wager it was the ZPD. Undercover, of course."
"That's impossible," Mr. Boarton growled, jamming his hooves into his gray trench coat. "We've been operating for decades without incident. No one knows we exist."
"Actually," Rupert added, typically snide voice tinged with discomfort. "The ZPD has been investigating Clovestone Industries. Judy Hopps herself came to question me."
"You mean they were tailing you?!" Mr. Boarton stifled, jaw slackened and fully revealing his prominent tusks. "You're the last mammal they should be tailing!"
"They were only investigating me because you decided to turn one of my offices into a firing range!" Rupert bit back, jabbing one hoof at the smaller boar.
"Like we had a choice!" Mr. Boarton angrily retorted before pointing to Peter. "He missed his first shot at Lucy! We had to take her down!"
"Well it's not my fault she has such fast reflexes." The flying squirrel defended himself, haughtily placing one paw against his pocket-lined chest.
"Yes it is!" Both the boar and markhor shouted in unison.
"Get a grip," Virginia ordered as she firmly grasped one of Mr. Boarton's meaty shoulders. "It's like you said, we need to keep our heads together and do our jobs."
The boar took a few heaving breaths, but quickly calmed himself down. "Right."
"We need to ditch the van," Virginia continued before swiping the keys from one of Boarton's pockets and tossing them to Peter. "Hey Squirrely. Take this thing somewhere quiet and burn it to its frame."
"As you please." Peter acceded, flipping down through the window and landing in the driver's seat. He promptly started the van and drove away.
"Uh… how did he reach the pedals?" Mr. Boarton asked.
"Former magicians never reveal their seeeecreeeets!" Peter sing-songed as the van disappeared around the corner of a nearby building, voice fading from earshot.
"Don't buy into his tricks. It has rodent-sized controls on the dashboard." Virginia quickly clarified.
Rupert cleared his throat, arms folded professionally behind his back. "The fact remains, that the ZPD is onto us now. We must operate with exceptional caution going forward."
"Sure, but what about Hopps?" Virginia crossed her arms against her blazer. "History shows she's not one to back down so easily."
"I'll handle that pretentious rabbit and her sensationalist little investigation myself," Rupert claimed. "My lawyers will crush her the moment she makes herself vulnerable."
"Well isn't that reassuring."
"Hate to break the charming banter, but we should get back to work," Mr. Boarton interjected. "It's time to plan our next moves."
6:00 A.M ; The next day, Precinct One, Savanna-Central...
Cops were used to waking bright and early, but this was one morning that Harlan O'Conall and Mary Ewever wished they could have slept in for.
A grim-faced Judy Hopps led the two officers into Chief Bogo's office. They marched into the room and stood at attention before Bogo's desk, neither expecting to be asked to sit down for this meeting. After closing the door behind her subordinates, Judy took up a place standing to the side, where she would be able to observe the entire proceeding. The two rookie officers stood in full uniform, but it didn't escape anyone's notice that Harlan had left a small duffle by the door.
Bogo, for his part, sat with his elbows on his desk, great hoof-tipped fingers laced together before his snout. His expression was a stone mask with a deep set frown and glaring eyes. The huge cape-buffalo remained silent, neither greeting his subordinates nor even acknowledging their existence. He just let his baleful gaze rest on his errant officers and waited.
The clock on the wall was unbearably loud in the awful stillness, and as it ticked the seconds away, it only seemed to grow louder, building from a small but noticeable annoyance into a deafening drum beat that left the ears ringing.
Harlan fought valiantly to keep from fidgeting. Behind his back, he clasped his paws tighter and tighter until even his blunt claws threatened to draw blood, and the muscles in his neck and jaw bulged with how hard he clenched his jaw. He stubbornly kept his gaze on the wall just over Bogo's shoulder, but the temptation to tear the clock off the wall and smash it into a thousand plastic particles was becoming unbearable.
Mary fared little better. She was visibly fighting the urge to deflate under the weight of her boss' stare, her shoulders slumping then jumping back into proper attention. Her eyes constantly flipped from Bogo to Judy, and if she bit her lip any harder she might hurt herself.
This all transpired for only a single minute, which didn't sound like much, but the two rookies had had entire days of harsh training that seemed to go by faster.
Finally, there was movement. At exactly 6:01, Bogo unlaced his fingers. The wolf and sheep watched with breathless anticipation as, still completely silent, he picked a remote off of his desk, pointed it at a small TV on a stand in the corner that had previously stood unnoticed, and pressed a button.
As the television blinked on, the two turned to stare at the device in puzzlement, then comprehension, then growing horror.
ZNN stood in bold, red lettering in the corner. The snow leopard anchor stared seriously at the screen as she reported, "More information has become available surrounding a serious accident in Downtown Zootopia yesterday that shut down an important intersection in the heart of the commercial district. Though unmarked, the vehicle that caused the accident was registered to the Zootopia Police Department. This, as well as the high speed nature of the accident has raised serious concerns. Zootopian law prohibits the ZPD from using unmarked vehicles in traffic enforcement or pursuit. ZNN has reached out to the ZPD, but has received no comment as of yet-"
The TV blinked off. While the two rookies blinked at the dark screen, Bogo's voice rolled over them like the rumbling of a volcano; distant and threatening.
"What shall I tell them, officers?" The two in question snapped back around to face their boss. Bogo's gaze was darker and more stifling than any smoke as he continued without waiting for a response. "Shall I tell them one of our officers, who swore an oath to protect and uphold the law, deliberately broke protocol to perform an illegal, rebellious pursuit that resulted in tens of thousands of dollars of damage to public property? Shall I tell them of this foolish officer's partner, who was too spineless to stop him, despite the clear danger to the public?"
Neither could reply. Bogo nodded his head, as though he'd expected that.
"Of course, that's just the beginning, isn't it? I wonder how the statement should end? If I were to go by the book, I suppose it would end like this: both officers were dismissed from the force for reckless disregard of the law and public safety."
Mary gasped. Harlan choked. Getting fired was one thing, having expected his own dismissal, but the reality that his actions might have also destroyed Mary's career took Harlan like a punch to the gut. "Sir, wait, I take full respons-"
"Shut. Your. Mouth," Bogo's voice cut the wolf off, rumbling like distant thunder. "You will speak when I tell you to speak, or I will dismiss you, and that is no idle threat."
Harlan's mouth snapped closed. He stared at Bogo, confused. Was he being dismissed or not?
"I should dismiss you O'Conall, and demote Ewever to meter maid for the rest of her career," Bogo answered Harlan's unspoken question. "But Lieutenant Hopps has interceded on your behalf," Bogo waved a beefy arm to indicate Judy, who inclined her head in acknowledgement. "She sees something in you, something worth saving."
"I know a thing or two about making mistakes." Judy added.
"I have decided to place my trust in her in this matter, but that doesn't mean there won't be… consequences." Bogo packed more meaning into that one word than most drill sergeants could get out of an entire diatribe of scathing invective.
Harlan swallowed. Consequences?
"Both of you will have reprimands placed in your records, and will receive a dock in salary to pay for the damages you caused. Consider yourselves on probation. If you let so much as a single hair out of place, you're done. This probation has no set time limit. I will notify you when it ends. Complaining about the probation counts as a violation," Bogo warned. "As for your assignments: Ewever, you will continue to assist Lieutenant Hopps in her investigation, as her assistant. She'll put your researching skills to use, and she'll keep an eye on you in the field. But that will only be in between ticketing runs in Savanna-Central. As for you, Officer O'Conall…" Bogo smiled at the wolf, an expression that was somehow more terrifying than any glower. "You'll get to take part in a time honored tradition of the ZPD reserved for hot-headed officers who need a good cooling-off. It's called ice-boxing. It involves a month - minimum - of parking duty in a particular district. Care to guess which one?"
8:00 A.M ; City-Hall parking lot, Savanna-Central...
Jumping down from the steps of his campaign bus, Nick breathed in deep through his nose, enjoying a moment's peace before lifting both arms and grinning wide.
"Hey, everybody!" He announced cheerfully.
His eyes were immediately assaulted by a flurry of bright flashes as dozens of news cameras encircled him. A mismatched percussion of hooves and paws scrambling against the pavement filled the air as the crowd of reporters rushed to get his attention. Nick heard his name being called from every direction, though he ignored their cries as he attempted to maneuver his way around them.
"What, three day's worth of speeches isn't enough for you?" He muttered to himself, though a few nearby journalists overheard and laughed in response. He made sure to wink at them.
"Morning sunshines!" Samantha shouted with glee as she skipped down the steps of the bus, outfit as bright and yellow as the rising sun overhead. "Glad you all could make it! Mr. Wilde is here for official campaign business at City-Hall. All questions can be directed to our Communication's Director!" The meerkat reached behind her and pulled the larger opossum into view, nearly tripping on the stairs. Next to her, Niel looked downright depressing, with his black bomber jacket, jeans, and fur, all on top of a surly grimace.
Niel cleared his throat. "One question at a time. If anyone speaks out of turn, they'll be ignored with great prejudice."
The rowdy reporters instantly clammed up. Nick chuckled beneath his breath. For as asocial as he could be, there was no one tougher or blunter to handle a pack of hungry reporters than Niel. It probably helped that he was a journalist himself. While the crowd was distracted by him, Nick took the chance to jog toward the back entrance of City-Hall - its massive, polished garden terraces gleaming in the crisp morning sunlight. As he made his escape, Nick glanced back at the bus. Through one of its translucent windows, his mother waved back at him with a proud grin. Nick mirrored both gestures before turning back to City-Hall. He could see the spiked stone crown of Precinct One peeking around the corner of the building, and he exhaled longingly. Once the day's work with his team was over, he could finally see Judy again. And boy, did he have a lot to tell her.
But first, there were other matters to attend to. After ascending the steps into the building, Nick stared around at the spacious halls that he hoped to make his own. Mammals of all shape and size scurried throughout the glossy corridors, carrying paperwork and suitcases, with telephones pressed against their ears. Everyone always seemed to be in a hurry around City-Hall - to the point that Nick's easy sauntering, paws in the pockets of his beige suit, stood out like a sore thumb. He paced the halls for a few minutes, enjoying the controlled chaos of the atmosphere, all the while keeping an eye out for his destination. Amidst the hustle and bustle, a lone coffee shop was built into one of the towering walls. In it, Nick spotted the only other mammal that seemed remotely at ease in this building.
Bradley Stagnew sat in the corner of the cafe, with a gently steaming cup of brown liquid on the table in front of him. The steam curled up into the six-point spread of his antlers, which were hard to miss. A deep blue suit and tie obscured his thin, tall body. He held an unfolded newspaper aloft with one hoof, while the other pressed a smartphone to one ear. "Yes, Mayor Lyncoln," Nick heard him say as he approached, voice calm yet assertive. "The voting stations for the coming election are in the process of being arranged. I'll keep you updated on progress." His blue eyes glanced over and caught sight of Nick.
The deer smiled, showing off his array of perfect white teeth, though Nick noticed that the expression failed to reach his eyes, as though he were growing tired of having to smile in the first place. Nick didn't doubt it, with a job out of City-Hall, of all places. He just hoped that he didn't wind up like that, if he became mayor.
"I'll have to call you back. Duty beckons me." Bradley promptly hung up without another word, and set his newspaper down beside him. "Good to see you again, Mr. Wilde."
"Right back at ya," Nick replied as he hopped up into a slightly too-large seat across from Bradley. "It's been a busy week, but I'm happy to make time for my favorite Election Chairmammal."
The deer smirked. "Only Election Chairmammal." He corrected.
"Aw, well that makes my compliment sound less special, doesn't it?"
Bradley shrugged ever so slightly, antlers tilting to the side. "Just a little bit," he teased back before reaching to his side and retrieving a thick binder, which he placed atop the table between them. "But not enough to make me reconsider giving you this." One hoof flicked to the side, opening the binder and revealing page after page of data logs.
Nick stared over the book, which was easily half the size of Judy. "That's…" He gulped. "A lot of numbers."
"I've provided data on predator and prey voting habits, polling station installation densities, district by district political preference figures, and so forth," Bradley explained, gesturing to the binder's packed pages. "Everything your campaign could need to learn how Zootopia's citizens affect its elections."
"Wow," Nick stifled, absently flipping through the book. "This is a huge help." He looked up to the deer with a grateful smile. "Thank you."
"Anytime, Mr. Wilde," Bradley said with a smile of his own, all the while lifting his teacup and hovering it in front of his snout. "Now, I believe it's time for my compensation. Tell me about your campaign. How is it faring?" Once finished, he took a gentle sip.
Nick shrugged nonchalantly, wrinkling the shoulders of his suit. "Now that the campaign trail is over, Sammy wants to prepare us for the debating period. She's running me ragged, practicing for it every day." A brief sigh slipped through his nostrils. "There's so much more to Zootopia than what I'm campaigning for. I've gotta be prepared to agree or disagree with anything - laws, environmental protection, healthcare," he shuddered. "Not gonna be easy… but I am looking forward to the debating part of the debating period, at least."
"Any idea who your competitors are going to be?" Bradley asked. "There are still quite a few candidates announcing their campaigns."
"Well," Nick scratched at his scruff. "Sammy's had us focusing mostly on our own campaign, rather than the competition. I think the way she sees it, concerning ourselves with others will just slow us down. I can see why she'd think that, though. She's always been an optimistic little meerkat."
Bradley nodded. "So I've seen. Yet understanding your competition is one of the truest ways to adapt your own platform. Without adapting, how do you hope to survive?"
Nick chuckled, shrugging again, though a bit of nervousness found its way into his voice. After all, Bradley brought up good points. "I guess I've always been somewhat of a rebel - built my whole campaign around going against the status quo, after all - but I see what you mean, and I agree. I'll talk to Sammy about it. Wouldn't hurt, right?
"Indeed. Knowing who's friend and foe is crucial to maintaining the security of your campaign."
"Well, I'm happy to call you a friend of the future Wilde Administration." Nick said as he leaned back in his chair. Has a nice ring to it…
"I'm flattered," Bradley replied flatly, though his face was still smiling. "Tell me: how else do you plan to prepare for the-"
The deer's words were overshadowed by a feminine voice piping out, "Hey, Nick!"
Shifting around in his seat, Nick looked to the source of the interruption, and was unsurprised to see Samantha jogging up to the table, turquoise earrings flailing with her gait.
"There you are, I've been looking all over for you! It's time for us to get back to my office for more cold calls! Did you get the-" Sammy trailed off as she stalled to a halt, catching sight of Bradley for the first time. Her vivacious expression mellowed, and her coming words were just as subdued. "Oh… hello, Mr. Stagnew."
"Ms. Diallo." Bradley greeted simply, bowing his head. His tone was relaxed, but not altogether pleasant.
"Whaaat are you and my client up to, here?" The meerkat asked slowly but skeptically.
"Oh, Bradley's the one I came to get the data from," Nick interjected, patting one paw atop the binder beside him. "He's been a real help."
"I see…" Sammy murmured before clearing her throat. "You never told me who you were sourcing it from."
Nick winced. "Sorry about that. Hope it's not a problem. But you two know each other, right?"
Bradley nodded a light shrug to the side. "I've seen Ms. Diallo around City-Hall, every once and a while," he confirmed. "Her clientele tend to walk these halls sooner or later."
"And you're just an all-seeing eye, aren't you?" Samantha grumbled back. Her disapproving tone caught Nick by surprise. Sammy was rarely this rude.
"It's my job to know who's running for election, and which advisors support them," Bradley calmly retorted, though Nick could tell that he wasn't happy with Samantha's arrival. "Don't take it so personally. I'm sure you're a fine political consultant, but you're not so noteworthy as to warrant special attention. I make it my business to keep a close eye on all the consulting firms with the potential to make the next mayor. Mr. Bullsworth's agency has advised, what, nine successfully elected candidates? And yours…" Bradley nonchalantly glanced to the binder, flipping open a new page with one hoof. "Well, it says right here that you've only advised two mayors to have successfully achieved office; one of whom, as I recall, is currently incarcerated for kidnapping and conspiracy charges from the Nighthowler Crisis." He returned his gaze to Samantha, expression completely emotionless. "So maybe some consultants are worth watching a bit more than others, wouldn't you agree?"
Throughout the exchange, Nick had remained totally silent, ears flattened against the back of his head. Although the air was still rife with commotion from the business around them, it felt as though a silent bubble of tension had surrounded their table, drowning out the noise like the vacuum of space. Nick had no idea why Bradley and Samantha were being so passive-aggressive to one another. All he knew was that he didn't like it.
Samantha exhaled lightly, yet swiftly, keeping her demeanor relaxed as she stared up at Bradley's imposing height. "Backing Lionheart was my choice, and I've made peace with the consequences." She crossed her arms. "And for a mammal that doesn't think I'm noteworthy, you've sure been following my career a lot. If you didn't concern yourself with me and my competence, then you wouldn't have petitioned against the Mammal Inclusion Initiative - which I helped draft - now would you have?"
Bradley let out something halfway between a chuckle and a scoff. "That was over half a decade ago, Ms. Diallo. No one in City-Hall concerns themselves with the past."
"Yet back then, you'd tried really hard to get my most successful legislation shot down, right as it was about to pass." Samantha growled. "Which it did, in case you didn't notice."
"Zootopia has a limited budget," Bradley stated as though having to explain to a petulant child why not to draw on the walls. "I simply felt that the M.I.I's funds could have been better allocated. Every City-Hall employee has the right to petition over pending legislation, you know that."
"Quite the witch-hunt you started over it, though, huh?" Samantha swiftly shot back.
Bradley was just about to reply when Nick scooted out of his chair, clearing his throat loudly. "I can tell that you two have some literal office politics to sort out, but I don't think this will be going anyplace productive anytime soon. Let's all just take a step back and breathe. Samantha and I will leave you to your business, Mr. Stagnew," he retrieved the binder from the tabletop. "And we'll be taking this."
Both Bradley and Samantha took a moment to recompose themselves. "Very well." The former conceded.
The meerkat averted her gaze from Bradley. "Fair enough," she huffily agreed, and then immediately set out toward the exit. "Nick, meet me back at the bus. We're leaving."
Nick watched as Samantha stormed off. He swallowed, and then glanced to Bradley. For a moment, he felt tempted to ask what that had been about, but their argument had made it all too clear. Instead, the fox just forced a smile, and waved at the deer as he began to shuffle off in Samantha's direction as well. "I suppose I'd best get going! Again, thanks for all the data, and, uh, sorry about Samantha. I'll go talk to her."
"Mr. Wilde, before you leave…" Bradley's strong voice called out, stopping the fox in his tracks. He looked back at Bradley, watching as he paused for a moment to find the right words. "I want you to know something. During our lunch last week, you asked me what my motivations were for entering a career in politics. I'd told you it was simply because I wanted to provide order to this city, which is true. But that was only part of the truth," Bradley confessed. "The full truth is more complex."
Nick wanted to continue after Samantha, but something kept him there for a moment longer. He nodded and inched closer, wordlessly encouraging Bradley to continue.
The deer exhaled softly. "Have you ever been to the Natural History Museum?"
"A few times," Nick replied easily in spite of the fresh tension, relishing in the memory of Bellwether's look of shock upon her defeat. "Some more memorable than others."
"Isn't it fascinating? Seeing how far we've come," Bradley spoke, his typically commanding voice light and twinged with intrigue. "Era after era. Our ancestors, prey and predator alike, were able to set aside their differences for the sake of progress. And that progress has allowed Zootopia to become the thriving hub of technology, wealth, and opportunity that it is today. I want to do everything I can to guarantee that that perfect ecosystem stays functioning. And to me, ensuring that our elections produce the right leaders to guide Zootopia forward is, I would say, the second best way to do so. That is why I offered to advise you."
The fox nodded along, though refrained from voicing his disagreement over viewing Zootopia as a 'perfect ecosystem.' He smirked. "And I love ya for it! Means a lot to me. Just one question though: what's the best way?"
Bradley smirked back. "Becoming mayor, of course."
Nick chuckled. "Well, that's as good an explanation as I could have asked for. I'm glad you told me. I'll… see you around."
As Bradley waved, Nick jogged off after Samantha, wondering if the can of worms he'd just opened had been worth it. He quickly caught up to his campaign manager as she descended the steps to the parking lot outside. She heard his approach, and audibly sighed when he was in earshot.
"I don't want you to associate with that mammal anymore, Nick." Samantha advised, glancing warily over her shoulder. "I don't trust him. You shouldn't either."
"What?" The fox protested. "Regardless of whatever history you two have, there's nothing untrustworthy about him. If there's one thing I picked up from my time on the streets, it's a good judge of character."
"You're not on the streets. This is City-Hall. Mammals here are always playing games of power, Nick. Always. What did he ask for in return for the data?"
"He just wanted to talk about the campaign. He's a fan, Sammy," Nick assured. "You're overreacting."
Samantha's anxious expression dampened, but her brow still pinched with apprehension. "Maybe," she slowly admitted. "But you can never be too careful, Nick."
As they walked, Nick placed a paw on her shoulder for a moment. "Sammy, are you sure you're not just letting your personal feelings get in the way?"
The meerkat stopped in her tracks and glared up at the fox, flinging the paw from her shoulder in one swift roundabout. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Nick smiled crookedly, suddenly getting a bit nervous. Sammy was a ball of sunshine, but boy could she give a fierce glare. "Oh, well, you know, it's just that you and Bradley have a history together, with him petitioning against the M.I.I, and-"
"I am not so unprofessional as to let my personal feelings get in the way of my professional conduct!" Sammy sharply snapped, jabbing a finger up at Nick. "And that is completely beside the point! Bradley petitioned against the very legislation that allowed you to become a cop! Why would he want to help you now?"
"Sammy, he's a fan," Nick repeated, adding some firmness to his words. "He told me the day we met that a mammal like me was just what Zootopia needs. He wouldn't have gone through all this trouble," he hefted the binder for emphasis. "Given us all this, if he didn't want to help us. What's the endgame behind helping us? Hm?"
Sammy couldn't answer, though she looked like she wanted to say something. "Fine," she finally grit out, turning tail and resuming her path to the exit, arms crossed against her chest. "You got me there. But you can't be keeping vital information from me - like exactly who you're sourcing valuable information from - anymore, okay?"
Nick raised one paw in the Junior Ranger Scout's Honor sign. "Promise. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. But can you put a little more trust in me, going forward? I have a long history of associating with the wrong mammals, and I wouldn't have bothered to get to know Bradley if I felt he was one of them."
A sigh relaxed the meerkat's shoulders. "Okay. I promise." She allowed a smile to spread her lips. "Now let's get cracking on those cold calls."
Nick grinned back too. "My favorite." Gees, I'll have really earned some alone-time with Judy, after today...
9:00 A.M ; Savanna-Central...
For twenty years, Lester had served as the Nocturnal-Mob's Head of Security, and in those years, wholesome wasn't a word he typically associated with the family he worked for.
He'd seen the deepest and darkest of mob life and its sacrifices, yet even he couldn't deny that watching his boss bid his children farewell was a wholesome sight. Standing in the safehouse's foyer, he'd silently observed Vladzotz stroke at the foreheads of the two bat pups as Lucy held them in her arms. Lester had known Vladzotz since the bat was a teenager, and had witnessed every stage of his growth since - from his ascension to the leader of the Nocturnal Mob, to his conquest for vengeance two years ago, to his new life with his family. The mole-rat didn't consider himself an emotional mammal, yet there was a certain pride that he took toward Vladzotz, and how he had grown as a mammal.
That pride made it all the more difficult to have to pry his children away from him.
Clambering into the back of the comparatively larger limousine, Lester joined Lucy with her pups as a wolf manned the wheel and drove them to the surface. As they left, the mole-rat couldn't help but notice Vladzotz watching them through a window, red eye following their vehicle for as long as it could. In little time, they were maneuvering through the winding rocky roads that surrounded the surface-world entrance to the Nocturnal-District. Exiting into the mid-morning traffic of Savanna-Central, they eventually reached the base of a luxury apartment building. Both Lester and Lucy wore a pair of shades, with the latter also sporting a snug beige trench coat and sunhat, like an undercover female spy. Nocturnal mammals could never be too safe in the blistering sun of Savanna-Central, after all. Leo and Vasila clung to their mother's torso, sheltered from the sun by her wings.
She carried the two squirming bat pups to the building's lobby, where another vampire bat in a blue mailmammal's uniform stood waiting. Lilian waved cheerfully.
"Over here! Glad you could make it," she flapped over, landing on the glossy tile floor and holding her wings out in front of her sister. "Here, let me."
Lucy plopped Vasila into Lilian's arms. The bat pup writhed in her grip, wrinkling her sleeveless red onesie. "Hi, Vassy! Aren't you looking cute today! Yes you are!"
The pup laughed happily, earning a bittersweet smile from her mother. "Take good care of them, Lil." Lucy urged.
"I will," Lilian assured, giving a salute with one wing before using it to take hold of Leo as well. "Promise. Auntie Lilian will treat 'em right!"
Lucy stroked the cheeks of both pups with one claw. "I'll end this war as quickly as I can. And I'll be back for them soon. That's my promise."
A few accompanying groundhog guards exited the limo and joined Lilian's side as Lucy and Lester entered it. Lilian waved as they drove off before turning to her new guards.
"So, who wants breakfast?" She asked. All four groundhogs raised their paws.
Lucy gazed at the building through the limo's window for as long as she could before it too vanished from sight. A sigh slipped through her fangs.
Lester sat across from her, paws clasped across his lap. "They're in good hands," he assured her. "We both know that."
The bat's ears noticeably dipped. "Yeah. I just… wish they didn't have to be." A steady exhale followed. "But it's for the best."
"It is." Lester agreed quietly. He'd never been a very loquacious mammal, which didn't make trying to find proper words to say any easier.
His gaze turned to the window, noticing that the limo had driven past the turn they had used to get here. "We missed the turn. The Nocturnal-District is that way."
"Oh, right. I arranged a bit of a detour with the driver. Sorry for not telling you. I just…" she glanced back in the direction of the apartments they had left. "Had other things on my mind."
"I understand. May I ask where we're going?"
Lucy drew in a deep breath, suppressing her emotions for the task to come. She'd be needing all her wits about her for this, because her bad day was about to get a lot worse.
"I know Vlad's briefed you on the situation with my old mentor. I've done some digging, but the truth is, I need more info on Peter if I'm gonna beat him. Burning down that warehouse bought us some time, so I'm gonna spend it finding out where Peter's been hiding. Besides," she clutched at her side. "That injury's gonna have me out of the fight for a while. Might as well keep myself busy. As for where we're going, well, we're visiting my least favorite place in the world to speak with my other old mentor: the former leader of the Felidae Infernum. At least, assuming the old hag is still alive."
10:30 A.M ; Southeast Zootopia Small Mammal Penitentiary, Sahara-Square...
Lucy sat down on her side of the booth, staring into her vague reflection in the glass. Her body was snugly fitted with a fashionable beige trenchcoat, and a large pair of sunglasses obscured her green eyes. A big sunhat perched atop her head for added measure. The last thing Lucy wanted was to be noticed here. After all, she had escaped from this very same prison near of a decade ago. A small part of her wondered if the warden was still here. He'd always treated her nicely, as opposed to the inmates. But he was far from the mammal she had come here to see. It didn't take long until the mammal she had stepped into view, seating herself in the stool on the other side of the glass.
She was an old rabbit, with thin gray fur that betrayed her wrinkling skin, and a bright orange jumpsuit covering her lanky body. Settling into her seat with painful slowness, the rabbit raised her knobby fingers and plucked the red phone from her side of the booth. Given the size difference, Lucy was forced to stand atop her stool just to reach her phone; setting it on the countertop in front of her like a keyboard that she could speak into.
"Do I know you?" The rabbit asked flatly in a bored, frail voice.
Lucy leaned into her phone. "You haven't known me for a long time, La Bruja."
The moment those last two words left the bat's fangs, the elderly rabbit smiled, revealing only a handful of teeth left. "Lucy Sang…" she muttered before coughing slightly, though it did nothing to falter her knowing grin. "After all these years, you choose now to finally visit me? I don't have much time left in this world, you know."
"Like I care," Lucy quickly hissed. "You can die as fast as you can, you old witch. I didn't come here to say goodbye."
"And what did you come here for, then? To mock me as I rot in prison while you fly free, after all you did to my family?"
"They were my family too. You and everyone else in the Infernum. You took me in and gave me a second chance to live. But you used me, manipulated me, hurt me." Lucy growled back, leaning forward over the counter and resisting the urge to dig her claws into the phone. "I have no regrets over destroying that sorry excuse of a cult. Just consider yourself lucky that you survived to be here now."
La Bruja just smiled. "Think what you want. You said it yourself: you owe your freedom, your very life to me. What I taught you in the walls of this prison, and what your mentor Peter taught you once we were free has never left you. Like it or not, the Felidae Infernum lives on within you."
Lucy didn't even bother holding back her claws from digging into the phone this time. "You ruined my life!" She hissed quietly, but with plenty of force behind her words. "It was because of you that I went to prison! Because of you that I never became an artist like I wanted! Because of you that my brother is dead!" A bit of moisture clouded her eyes, but she did her best to prevent the tears from falling. "Everything you taught me was everything I ever hated about myself."
"And in doing so we made you the greatest thief in Zootopia - made you strong. But strength cannot come without pain. Your brother's death was a necessary evil."
A single tear dripped from behind Lucy's sunglasses, and trailed down her cheek. She sniffed hard a single time, forcing herself to change the subject. "The only reason I'm here… is because you have info I don't. Tell me about Peter: how did he survive? I saw him blow himself up six years ago, and now he's trying to kill me."
"Don't you know that magicians never reveal their tricks?" The rabbit chided. "And Peter never ran out of tricks. I imagined you would have learnt that much from his tutelage."
Lucy scoffed, unsatisfied with the vague answer. "You're such a stubborn hag. Fine. I'll work it out of him next time we meet, if I have to."
"And would you be prepared to fight your old mentor?" La Bruja questioned. "He has visited me throughout these many years, updating me on his mission: to avenge the Infernum by killing you. How very motivated he is to bring an end to your life. I wonder if your aged skills can compete with his dedication."
"Don't underestimate me. I haven't been sitting on my tail this whole time. I'll do whatever it takes to defend the life I've built for myself. None of you will take it from me."
Another laugh escaped La Bruja's mouth, pulling up a few coughs along with it. "Oh, so is that what you've been doing for yourself all these years? Building a happy life? How sweet… and foolishly sentimental. When you walk the rebel path to its end, there are only two outcomes: imprisonment or death. Which do you prefer?"
"I'm not your puppet anymore," Lucy growled. "I walk my own path."
"And yet you still need me. How ironic." The rabbit smacked her lips as though gumming at a toothache. "Very well. I will tell you everything you wish to know about Peter."
The sudden change in tone caught Lucy by surprise. She raised an eyebrow at her eccentric old teacher. "Is that so?"
"I don't play favorites. If you want information about Peter, I will provide it. But know that if he returns seeking information about you, then I will provide that as well." La Bruja warned. "I wish to see who survives your inevitable confrontation: student or teacher. Who is the greater thief? The stronger fighter? Only the victor deserves the honor of carrying on the Infernum's legacy. I expect the victor to return to me for gloating, and I will rest easy knowing my work lives on in safe hands."
Lucy sneered with disgust. "I'm not gonna give you the satisfaction. When I stop him, you'll never see either of us again. And you'll die here, alone. Just like you lived."
A brief flash of anger crossed the rabbit's face, but it was quickly masked. That was all Lucy needed to see to reassure herself. "Tell me where I can find Peter." She ordered.
La Bruja exhaled through her nostrils. "I don't know where he is hiding. But I do know that after he faked his death to avoid capture by the ZPD, he crafted a new identity for himself. Found a job pushing pencils in a cubicle somewhere at Lemming Brothers, and that's where he's been ever since. He has been trying to track you down for all this time."
"Lemming Brothers, huh?" Lucy mused. Now that's something I can work with. "That's all I need to hear."
"What, leaving so soon?" La Bruja taunted. "Here I thought we were beginning to rekindle something special."
"Save it. You think I've grown rusty? Just watch me. His place of employment is all I need to learn everything about him."
Another creepy smile spread the rabbit's wrinkled lips. "We've taught you well. I look forward to seeing which of you survives."
Lucy was just about to hang up the call and walk away when a powerful urge to retort pulled her back.
"You know, you may have ruined my life, but I've found more meaning in it now than I ever could have imagined," she said with pride. "I have absolutely no regrets over where my life has led me, and no thanks to give you for any of it. All you ever taught me was how to do your dirty work, but I've realized now that there are things more important than the next mission. Far more important. And this is a life I built for myself - a life that I can actually be proud of. Have fun rotting in prison. See you never, you old hag."
The bat slammed the phone so hard that it caught the eyes of a few other visitors chatting with some inmates. Lucy flapped out of the room without looking back, leaving La Bruja sitting in her stool, phone still hefted to her ear. The rabbit slowly set it down, and narrowed her eyes with suspicion at the departing bat.
What could give that useless brat such purpose? Such meaning? I wonder… La Bruja thought to herself, stroking at her chin with intrigue. I wonder…
A brief glimmer of light caught the rabbit's eye, emanating from Lucy's paw: a diamond ring. La Bruja grinned crookedly. Interesting… Peter will love to hear this.
Meanwhile, in the Deciduous-District...
Travel didn't come easy for shrews.
Being among the smallest of all mammals, everything outside Little Rodentia was a hazard. Ugly weather, inattentive pedestrians, and comparatively great distances could all spoil a shrew's day with ease. Michael knew this better than most, having experienced all of them on his many journeys as a representative of the Tundratown Mafia. As if bargaining with allied and rival criminal organizations wasn't risky enough. Yet past the dangers, Michael was willing to do whatever it took to aid his father-in-law in the family business.
His limousine glided down the smooth, rural roads of the Deciduous-District, plowing through flurries of felled leaves from the many surrounding woodland trees. Above, sunlight streamed through the canopy, dappling criss-crossing wooden boardwalks and cabins built into the branches with warmth. Squirrels scampered across rope bridges, and herds of deer mingled around tree sap tastings. The polar bear at the wheel drove them into the largest of the small urban clusters that broke through the endless trees: Beaverdam. An odd mixture of wood lodges and metal industry complete with a few office buildings, Beaverdam was far from the glorious skyscrapers of Downtown Zootopia. Yet the entire city owed a great debt to this quaint little township. The massive river that roared straight through its center funneled through the great dam that bordered the edge of the mountains, creating the energy that helped power the Climate Wall. Despite its rustic atmosphere, Beaverdam was an important piece in the system that powered the city.
And it was also Zootopia's growing new hub of organized crime. After Al Catpone's defeat and the absorption of his territories by the remaining crime-lords, smaller organizations scrambled to make their mark as well. In the Deciduous-District, the Unbearables had grown in power as a syndicate. And now it was Michael's job to meet with their leader.
The limousine pulled up to an old wooden diner in the shape of a giant log. A smiling cartoon bear in a chef's outfit was painted across a board along with the words Smokey's Old-Fashioned Family Diner. All the windows were shuttered with blinds, and there wasn't a single other car in the parking lot - just row after row of motorcycles. Something told Michael that the den of the Unbearables wasn't as family-friendly as it seemed. The shrew exited the vehicle atop the palm of his polar bear bodyguard, and breathed in deep. Beyond the snow-capped mountains bordering Tundratown, near the very edges of the city's limits, the rural Deciduous-District had air as clean as any could find in Zootopia. It certainly helped calm the shrew's nerves.
"Okay Ivan," Michael spoke to his muscular mount. "Let's get this over with."
Ivan carried his master into the building, which marked their arrival with a sharp dinging from a bell above the door. Every eye in the diner immediately turned to face them. Michael quickly noticed that all of them belonged to grizzly bears - each wearing patchwork leather jackets, denim, and bandanas. There were more biker chains, facial scars, and studded shoulder pads than the shrew could count. Some of them were sharpening knives and cleaning pistols right out in the open. Cards were strewn across tables etched with scrimshaw, and the smell of grease - both the fur care kind and the cooking kind - lingered in the air.
Now this is just false advertising, Michael thought to himself. And here I was hoping this wouldn't be awkward.
Thankfully, Ivan's mere presence was enough to show that they meant business. The grizzlies were large, but a polar bear was even larger. He strode across the lobby toward the office at the back of the kitchen. No one stopped them, likely under orders from the boss, but Michael could feel their eyes glaring daggers into his back as they passed by.
He tried to ignore them, tugging at the lapels of his tiny burgundy suit. I hope these thugs don't try anything. I need to get back to Fru-Fru and Judy in one piece, and end this war before it threatens their safety. I just hope that Lee can help us.
Knocking at the office door, Ivan waited for it to open. Another grizzly bear opened it, and beckoned them inside. The office was a sharp contrast to the diner, with glossy black tile floors and dark green wallpaper immaculately plastered across the walls. Two grizzly bears in leather jackets flanked the far side of the room, watching their every move. Incense burned atop a small cabinet, filling the dim office with a smoky aroma. Pots of bamboo sprouted in the corners of the office, and a great mahogany desk took center stage. Behind it, comfortably leaning back in a large black office chair sat a flabby panda in a pure white suit. Instead of a standard button-up, he wore a black tangzhuang jacket beneath his suit, matching well with his black and white fur. Jeweled rings adorned his fingers, which twirled a small shaft of bamboo like a bored student with a pencil, yet he smiled with only the utmost interest.
"Ah, welcome, my friends!" Lee greeted in a surprisingly light and playful voice. "It is my honor to host ambassadors from the great Tundratown Mafia! Please, please take a seat."
"Your hospitality is appreciated," Michael replied as Ivan set him atop the panda's desk. "We have much to discuss."
"And no time to waste," Lee agreed before nodding his head toward the door. Both of his guards immediately exited the office. "No need for guards, or walls. I know you're no threat to me."
"I'll be keeping mine, with all due respect." Michael declared, earning an agreeing nod from Ivan. "He won't be of any distraction."
"By all means." Lee said before taking a bite out of his bamboo stick. "Now, why don't you explain what brought you all this way to see me?"
Michael did exactly that. He explained his father-in-law's severance of the non-aggression pact, the declaration of war at the summit in Sahara-Square, and the Tundratown Mafia's recent struggles against the Nocturnal-Mob. By the time he finished, Lee had finished half his bamboo, and was tapping thoughtfully at his chin.
"So, you want my help to defeat Vladzotz…" the panda concluded, shifting his weight in his chair. "And you'll reward us with twenty percent of his assets once he is dethroned. My organization is not very large. I can only spare a few bears. But I would be foolish to turn down this opportunity." He spread his arms welcomingly. "You have gifted me with the greatest investment a rising criminal mastermind could ask for: war!"
"I wouldn't be so enthusiastic about it," Michael grumbled. "We've already lost nearly a dozen soldiers."
Lee grinned, unfazed. "Ah, but I always try to see the bright side! Between you and me, I don't care for surrounding myself with thugs," he spat, green eyes flitting toward the door that separated the clean office from the roguish band of grizzlies outside. "But I have no other choice than to settle for the bottom of the barrel. It's not easy being a newcomer in a game dominated by the old-timers. You've gotta have twice as much…" he briefly trailed off before finding the right word. "Dedication to prove you mean business."
Michael tried not to grimace, knowing that 'dedication' was just a polite way of saying depravity.
"I don't like to settle. I want more," Lee continued with a wishful smile. "I want to be taken seriously as a criminal! I want suits, and sophistication, like you crime-lords! And this war sounds like the perfect opportunity to give me what I want. I saw Vladzotz at an underworld auction once, you know. Such a snooty looking mammal! I can tell he looks down on newcomers like me," Lee growled, tightening his fists. "Well I'll show him. I would be happy to help you win your war."
"Very good. Your aid will be of great-" Michael began, only to be interrupted by a tutting Lee.
"Not so fast! Surely you understand that your quarrel with the Nocturnal-Mob is bound to attract the attention of the ZPD? You'll fall to one, if not the other," the panda smiled at Michael as though they were friends sharing an inside joke. "That is, without my support. We can help you defeat the Nocturnal-Mob before the ZPD spoils the fun. But it will require much more than twenty percent."
Michael softly sighed through his nostrils, having suspected this from the start, but otherwise showed no signs of discontent. "Name your price."
"Fifty."
The shrew shook his head. "It can't be done. My father-in-law would never allow it. Thirty is as high as I can promise you."
"How badly do you want to win this war, rodent?" Lee countered before taking another bite from his bamboo stick and speaking through a mouthful of cellulose. "Because from what you described, it sounds like you're on the losing side. Let's negotiate." He swallowed and then pointed at his guest. "I'll take forty percent, and Vlad's blood bottling business."
Michael was more surprised by the second demand than the first. "His… blood bottling business?"
Lee smirked, leaning forward over his desk. "Do you have any idea how many vampire bats buy their blood from Vladzotz? All of them. It's cheaper than the competition, and apparently fresher than the handouts the government gives. He's got an entire market under his control. Sure, there might not be that many of them, but their population is only bound to rise. I want in on that. I want what's his." Lee raised his paws, indicating the building around them. "Smokey's isn't enough to fund us. If I want to take the Unbearables global, I'll need a bigger revenue stream! Find a way to get Vladzotz to sign over his company to me before you kill him, and you'll have my support."
Michael took a moment to consider this. He didn't know how likely that possibility was, but at this point, there was little choice. The shrew nodded his head. "Okay. Deal. I'll convince the Don to accept your terms. You can expect to hear from us again by the end of the week."
"Good choice. Pleasure doing business with you." With a pleased sigh, Lee tilted back in his chair. "Go ahead and get yourself a little somethin' off the menu on your way out. On the house, as a tribute to new friends and new profits."
12:00 P.M ; Precinct One, Savanna-Central...
Judy Hopps didn't consider herself an introvert.
With friends and colleagues alike across the city, and a public spotlight to keep squeaky clean, the rabbit was accustomed to keeping her bright personality on full display. Sharing a home with siblings in the triple-digit range certainly helped shape her into the mammal that she was today. Yet today had not been a happy day. With Harlan's exile to Precinct Two, and Mary's sentencing to parking duty alongside the current case, Judy couldn't muster the energy to be around anyone else. Not after such a painful fiasco.
Back pressed against the translucent glass rim behind her, Judy sat upon the floor of one of the lobby's many terraced balconies. A small bowl of salad rested in her lap, which she halfheartedly picked at with a metal fork, admiring the way the leaves bent and crunched around the prodding tines. Visitors and fellow officers occasionally passed her by, but few gave her any mind. So immersed was she in her own thoughts that she barely sensed the heavy footsteps of the approaching cape-buffalo.
"I'm sure I don't need to remind you, of all officers, that lunch breaks are restricted to the mess hall." Chief Bogo began, his deep voice rolling over the bunny's small body.
A sigh siphoned through Judy's nostrils. "I know," she replied weakly. "Sorry, sir. I just… had to have some time to myself."
Just as she was about to stand in search of a more appropriate spot, Bogo raised one hoof, muscles flexing through his uniform. "It's alright. You can finish your lunch." He acquiesced. A moment of silence blanketed the two cops. Bogo exhaled deeply, crossing his arms against his chest. "It's not like you to slink off by yourself during break. Is there something I should know?"
Judy shook her head. "Nothing you don't already know, sir," she grimaced as she impaled a tomato slice with her fork. "I let a conflict of interest occur in a case with one recruit that I failed to teach composure to, and another that I failed to teach decisiveness to… even after instructing them both at the academy. I messed up."
"You're right," Bogo replied back without hesitation. "You messed up. Now are you going to hurt from it, or are you going to learn from it?"
Judy lifted her head, gaze meeting her superior's. Her answer didn't even need to be vocalized, nor did the Chief even need to hear it. He simply knew her too well by now.
"You've never been one to back down from a challenge or a setback, Hopps. Don't start now." Bogo concluded.
A gentle nod moved the rabbit's face. "Yes, sir."
The Chief let that promise sink in for a moment before allowing the faintest of smiles to sprout across his muzzle. "You know, there was a time not so long ago when you were the local troublemaker," he reminded her as he clasped his arms behind his back, stepping to the side and gazing over the Precinct One lobby down below. "Your former partner wasn't exactly known for playing by the book, either. Every month it was something new with you two. You bent the rules here and there, but it was always for a good reason."
Judy kept her gaze trained firmly on the floor in front of her, trying to ignore how much the words 'former partner' bothered her. "I'd hardly call what my subordinates did for the greater good."
Bogo snorted. "I never said it was. Officer O'Conall acted selfishly. Rashly. And Officer Ewever was no better in putting a stop to it. In a different time, I would have fired them both without a second thought," he turned his brooding glare to his subordinate. "But you taught me the value of investing in a little mercy. If I had fired you after your first scurry with that hopeless crook, Weaselton, all Zootopia would have suffered for it. All the good you've done since would never have happened. There's no denying that your subordinates failed in their duties… but there's also no saying that they can't make up for them. Like you."
Another sigh escaped the bunny's teeth. Bogo's words reminded her a little too much of what she'd told Nick weeks ago, back when they were hunting for signatures for his mayoral petition: that past failures shouldn't prevent a mammal from making up for them. "I know they'll do good… know they'll make the world a better place. I only wish I could have done more to help them."
"It's never too late to learn something, or to teach something. You just have to be willing to."
"You're right. But…" Judy's grip tightened around her fork. "I… still can't help but feel that I didn't deserve my promotion. That I… wasn't ready."
"No one is ever truly ready." Chief Bogo claimed. He leaned down closer as though preparing to share a secret. "On my first week as chief, I made a bet with my old partner, you know. You've met Joseph Redhorn, at the police ball. The old bison was happy for me, but didn't quite like the idea of parting ways - me sitting behind a desk for the rest of my career while he had all the fun on the beat. He wagered that if he couldn't bench Clawhauser's weight, then he'd get a desk job too, handling the Police Union's paperwork as its Head. I wagered that I'd resign from my post as chief and return to being his partner. Only problem was that Chief Latran would have filled the gap. Imagine that."
Judy resisted the urge to shudder, trying not to imagine that cranky coyote as her boss. "I'd rather not." She admitted frankly, though with a teasing undertone that earned a wider smile from the Chief.
"City-Hall wasn't happy when they found out." Bogo chuckled like any mammal fondly remembering an amusing memory, and flexed one arm at his side. "And neither was Joseph when I made him eat his own words. Heh. But that's beside the point. Do you know why I was willing to make that bet? Because even after all I'd accomplished as an officer - all my years serving Zootopia as I rose through the ranks, truly earning the right to be chief - I still felt that I could do more good when I was with Joseph. Still felt that I wasn't ready to take on the responsibility of being Chief of Police, to the point where I was willing to leave the choice to a childish gamble." He gently clasped one hoof on Judy's shoulder. "But in all my years of service, if I've seen any one cop in this city worthy of being a lieutenant of Precinct One, it's you, Hopps. And you're worthy of so much more than even that."
The bunny stared up at Bogo with no small amount of awe. Her expression softened as gratitude filled its features, and it took an embarrassing amount of willpower to prevent tears from forming. She set her salad to the side and wiped her eyes with one sleeve of her bodysuit. "Thank you, sir. That means a lot to me. I'll… I'll keep trying my best!"
Chief Bogo nodded with a snort, and then rose back into his typically towering posture. "Good. We need you at your best, Hopps. Whoever's behind that shooting Downtown is still out there. And they need to be stopped. As if that wasn't enough, Precinct Two has raised odd claims about some sort of conflict between the remaining crime-lords and their respective organizations. Our work has only just begun."
That last point caught Judy's attention. "You mean Mr. Big and Vladzotz? They're… fighting?"
"We don't know for sure," Bogo quickly clarified. "We haven't found any witnesses or suspects, and evidence is minimal. All we know is that there was a fire in Tundratown - one of Big's fronts - and the Nocturnal-Mob was involved somehow. I'm not about to bend over backwards for rumors that could have easily resulted from a random accident. Precinct One has bigger fish to fry. But we'll keep an eye on the mobs, as always. If they know what's best for them, they won't cause any trouble."
"And if they do?"
Bogo took a moment to respond. "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that. A full-scale crime war is the last thing Zootopia needs."
Judy shifted her weight atop the floor. The mere thought of something that catastrophic made her uncomfortable. But she pushed those thoughts aside as she rose to her feet.
"I'll do what I can for the case, sir. With or without Officer O'Conall, I'm sure Officer Ewever and I will be able to make it work."
The cape-buffalo nodded his approval. "Keep searching. You've put together a compelling case, but you haven't made any progress on leads since your visit with Mr. Clovestone. We don't have enough to warrant him yet, but from the evidence you've compiled, it's safe to assume he's up to something. Regardless of whether or not he's involved with the shooting, someone thinks they're too clever for us. Someone influential, and discreet."
"They always think that at first, sir. We'll find the truth."
"I have no doubts about that. But I want you to focus on more than just Clovestone Industries. After O'Conall's little incident, it'd serve you well to expand your approach. Have you tried finding the victim of the shooting? They might make a more useful lead than that old goat."
Humming with thought, Judy's ears lifted from the back of her neck for the first time in hours - an action that didn't escape Bogo's notice. "We haven't put much effort into finding them. We know they're alive based on the evidence, but there wasn't much of it. Whoever it was, it seemed like they, well… just flew away."
"It's possible you could be looking for a bat, or a flying squirrel."
"I won't overlook any possibility," Judy assured. "I just wish Nick were here to help. He always was good at connecting the dots. I'll have to ask him when I see him again. He's returning from a campaign trail in the secondary districts tonight. Feels like I haven't seen him in months…"
Chief Bogo smirked. "I happened to catch a glimpse of him on TV. He seems to be quite popular in the Marshlands."
Judy allowed herself a smile, though her eyes glazed over longingly, spacing out into a nonexistent distance. "I guess I'll have to ask him about that too. I've been so busy with the case, and the recruits, that I haven't even taken the time to see him on the news. I mean, Nick, on the news? That's not something you see every day… heh. He's doing so many amazing things all on his own." She gave a weak laugh, rubbing at her arm. Before she could stop it, her mouth blurted out, "I miss him, though. As a partner."
"As much as it pains me to admit it, I don't think there's a single mammal in this building that doesn't miss him," Chief Bogo admitted. "Even me."
That comment earned a warmer smile from Judy. "Yeah. I'd never let it get in the way of my work, of course, but…" she sighed. "I see him everywhere, even when he's not there. Just looking around the precinct, I remember every little thing we've done together here." Her gaze peered through the translucent glass of the balcony rim as best she could, singling out the hallway that led to the Bullpen, where the two of them had started so many new adventures. "Our cases," she muttered before gazing to the corner of the lobby where Nick had first handed her his ZPD application during the Nighthowler Case, all those years ago. "Our arguments," her eyes flickered to a stairwell next to the elevator, recalling the blind spot inside where they'd kissed once or twice when still they were still only dating, and trying to hide their relationship from the rest of the ZPD. "Our… little moments." She laughed ever so lightly, shifting her feet and staring down at the balcony that supported them. "That dumb fox even proposed to me right here."
Judy turned to stare through the massive windows that bordered the balcony, out over Savanna-Central, and City-Hall across the historical Watering Hole. She remembered the way the setting sun had beamed such warm miasmas of color into the lobby that evening, and how they had meshed so well with Nick's russet fur as he kneeled down and revealed that cheap diamond ring that Judy had grown to love. She remembered throwing her arms around him, screaming her agreement to marry him without hesitation.
"Yes, he caused quite a stir," Bogo remarked, not sounding too happy about recalling. "Clawhauser wouldn't stop giggling for hours." He sighed and crossed his arms again. "You two were lucky I didn't fire you that day, either. But I figured that so long as you stayed professional while on the job, fraternization laws could afford to be stretched. You both made quite the team, after all. Breaking that would have been a disservice to the city." He chuckled dryly. "I wouldn't be surprised if Clawhauser would have resigned too, had that happened. He's always been your biggest fan."
Judy giggled. A moment passed, and she let out a brief sigh, this one more relieved than any other she'd given thus far. "Nick was a great cop. He'll make an ever better mayor." She looked up with a bit of moistness in her eyes that she didn't even bother trying to hide from her superior. "I just need to learn to let him go." She clutched one paw to her chest, breathing in deep and feeling the way her lungs filled with fresh air. Nick may not be on the force anymore, but that doesn't matter, she silently told herself. It never has. We're still partners, and we don't need a badge to show it. "I guess I just don't know when to quit sometimes."
Chief Bogo smiled sparsely. "It's one of your finest, and most headache-inducing qualities. You'll manage."
Deep down, Judy knew the same. There were definitely some growing pains for her and Nick to work out, if that night of tears and cuddles before Nick's departure had proven anything, but Judy was certain that they'd work it out for the better. Nick's promise of taking her out when he returned from his campaign trail was still fresh on her mind, filling her with the renewed motivation she needed to make the day the best she could. Although she looked forward to that inevitable reunion, for now, there was more work to do.
Scooping up her salad, she gave a grateful salute to the chief. "Thank you for your wisdom, sir."
The cape-buffalo shrugged. "Anytime, Hopps. Just don't let me catch you moping up here again. It wreaks havoc on the energy levels of the other officers."
Judy smiled. "Yes, sir. That's a promise."
1:00 P.M ; Big Family Residence, Tundratown...
The trapdoor slammed to the floor with a thick wooden crash.
"AH! NO!" Duke Weaselton screamed, clawing at his own white tank-top, pitifully trying to distance himself from the icy chute below him. Yet the polar bear's grip held him tight. "YOU'VE GOT THE WRONG WEASEL! I'd never rob your limos, I swear! EVERYONE knows not to mess with limos in Tundratown! Everyone!"
Sitting in a tiny chair atop a comparatively massive desk, Mr. Big hummed disapprovingly at the weasel's cries. "So claims one of Zootopia's most notorious liars. Ice 'im."
Just as Kozlov was about to stuff his captive into the water, a strong knock pounded through the chilly air. All eyes turned to the office's entrance as it gingerly creaked ajar.
Mr. Big sighed. I really need to put a lock on that door…
He swiveled his chair to face the polar bear that had interrupted them. "What is it?"
The bear leaned one arm over and deposited Michael atop his father-in-law's massive desk. He brushed off his burgundy suit, beady black eyes locking with Mr. Big's own.
"Sorry for the intrusion," Michael apologized in a high-pitched voice. "I come bearing news."
"Oh no, please take as much time as you need!" The weasel dangling from Kozlov's grasp frantically implored.
"Shut him up," Mr. Big snapped with a flick of one wrist. Kozlov clamped his free paw around his captive's mouth. That dealt with, Big turned to Michael. "What kind of news?"
The brown-furred shrew siphoned a sigh through his nostrils. He leaned in closer to his father and spoke in a hushed voice. "The Unbearables are willing to help us with the war effort, but for no less than forty percent of any assets we seize from the Nocturnal-Mob. Lee also demands we make Vladzotz sign over his blood-bottling business to him before we, well…" He hesitated on the words kill him. "Before the war ends."
Mr. Big nodded his head, doing a much better job of masking his frustration than the last time Michael had delivered bad news. Yet still, the younger shrew couldn't help but notice the way his father-in-law's jaw tightened at the conclusion of his briefing, and how he turned away as though to avert the sight of his anger.
"Very well," the crime-lord relented. "At this time, victory is all that matters to me. If Lee can help ensure that, he can take whatever scraps he wants in the aftermath."
Michael relaxed his posture a bit now that the hard part was out of the way. "I'll make sure to inform the caporegimes."
"Good." Mr. Big's gaze traced over Kozlov, who was still holding Weaselton above the ice pit. "Oh, just throw him out. He's not worth the cleanup."
Without hesitation, Kozlov paced over to a nearby window and slid it open. Chilly evening winds filled the dimly lit office.
Weaselton glanced back and forth between his captors. "Wait, does this mean you're not- WAAAGH!" He shrieked as Kozlov pitched him out the window like a fastball. His cry cut off the moment the bear slammed the pane back into place.
Michael cleared his throat, pretending to ignore what had just transpired. "There is one more thing you should know, sir."
Mr. Big nodded, rising from his chair. "Go on."
"It was only passed up the chain of command a few hours ago, but our scouts have reported that a new ZPD officer has entered the district. We've never seen this one before, so we did some digging. Judging by their," he cleared his throat again. "Apparel and choice of locomotion, they've been assigned to parking duty in Tundratown from a different district. I don't believe they know it, but they've been making frequent treks through our territory. The soldiers are concerned they might be a spy from Precinct One. The war has them on edge. Should we do anything about them?"
The crime-lord took a moment to think, folding his paws calmly behind his back. When he gathered his thoughts, he spoke slowly and deliberately.
"Just the other day, I saw a most interesting story on ZNN: about a rebellious officer who had broke protocol to perform an arrest, causing a large traffic accident Downtown. It has been some time since Precinct One deigned to grace Tundratown with an officer they couldn't control. Ice-boxing, they call it." He chuckled dryly. "This mammal you speak of… they are no threat to us. No," Mr. Big slowly turned to glare at his son-in-law, and almost menacingly snarled, "Quite the opposite."
Hope you enjoyed the latest chapter! It was a big one, but plenty of interesting new developments to offer. As for the scene with Rupert and his associates, I won't be spoiling anything, but I can tell you that you'll be learning more very soon. I may have warned that twists and turns won't be infrequent in this story. Observant readers may be able to piece together a clearer picture from some of the dialogue in older chapters, even. But you'll all be seeing the full truth soon enough. That's all I'll say for now!
Thanks for reading, in the meantime, and I hope you stay tuned for chapter 10, "This is Politics," coming your way soon! It's gonna be a very eventful and important chapter, setting up the plot for many more to come, so you won't want to miss it! Nick and Judy also get some well-deserved alone time, I might add. Also, I'd like to note that I am still open for writing commissions, and have also posted a bunch of cool new art to my profiles on DeviantArt, tumblr and the like, including more pages for the WIF comic adaptation, and some new pieces depicting Rupert Clovestone and Bradley Stagnew, too! Feel free to check them out if you'd like a better visual on how these characters might look.