Chapter Fifty-Six
Gearing Up

The room flared white with the flash of a digital camera. Adjusting the zoom, Jack Savage moved in a little closer to the jaw of the crumpled form of the corpse on the floor, awkwardly trying to operate the camera with his paws, while holding a phone against his ear with his elbow. "You were right after all," he said darkly to the person on the other side of the phone, "there's something wrong with all this."

"I haven't had the chance to look for myself," came Bogo's grunted response. "But the facts themselves just didn't add up."

"Yeah," Jack sighed with confirmation, turning about and taking a photograph of the smashed door handle. "Why would a drug runner with access to the keys break into an occupied room of an apartment block. Where he knew full well, most of the time, he would have found a rabbit in the bed."

"There's only one logical conclusion," Bogo said with hints of dislike. "Whoever broke in was looking for Hopps. Otherwise, no one would be fool enough to go in there where she normally would have been."

Savage sucked his teeth in through. "To what end?"

"I'm sure you can guess."

"You think the gang found out about their involvement with the investigation?"

"Unlikely, but possible. All precautions have been taken to avoid outside entities finding out. Though, from what I've seen of them, this gang appears to be a clear cut above the average mob."

"Uh-huh. Who knows how this double-dealing, traitorous fiend learnt to be so cunning and cruel. Must've taken a page out of your guide on 'How to Be a Police Chief', huh?"

"You stand at the feet of a mutilated corpse. How can you joke at a time like this!"

"Come on, Bogo," Jack gave weak complaint, switching the phone to his other ear, "you know as well as I: we have to make light of serious situations like this. It's the only way to stay sane."

Bogo sighed. "Oh, very well. Just be sure you finish up soon. And photograph everything! The crime scene will be cleaned up first thing tomorrow morning."

"Yeah, yeah," Jack said, "I'm just about all done here anyway. Where... where will Hopps be sleeping tonight?"

"I didn't have time to mention it while we were together, but I've arranged residence for her in a safe house for a few days. I know her life hasn't been proven to be in direct danger yet, but she still needs a place to spend the night."

"You, heh... you think she'll even accept?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well..." thinking for a moment, the striped rabbit found a delicate way of putting it... "You heard as well as I the sounds they were making with each other around evening time last night…"

The line was uncomfortably silent for the linger of moments, then Bogo cleared his throat. "Anyway," he uttered, "the magistrate are returning. They just need one final word with the judge and I'll be heading back."

"They accepted the evidence?"

"Of course. This is just a mandatory operation in the procedure."

"So, who's in charge of preparing the officers for the raid?"

"I put Hopps and Wilde in charge of that. They—"

"You put a suspected murderer in charge of briefing your officers?"

"One, Officer Wilde is not a suspected murderer. He's a suspected 'suspected murderer'. And before you say anything, they are entirely different things. The first one's legally recognized. The second isn't."

"It may not be legally recognized, Sir. But the implications of having anyone under the suspicion of—"

"Two..." Bogo sighed slowly, resting his head down on the back of the chair in the wide and grand corridor inside Council Tower... "This is getting old, Jack," he muttered, tiredly. "You have been tracking Hopps and Wilde, dogged their steps, for over twenty four hours now. And you have yet to find anything even hinting that he might be criminally involved. His behavior, his newly formed romantic dedication to Miss Hopps, the factors about his past that were mentioned first in the interview with Finnick Depesdo the other day, nothing. And secondly, last night in their apartment speak to me of—"

"B-but... but, we've been through this before. All that tells us is the version of the 'truth' Wilde wants Hopps to believe. The actual truth may be entirely different!"

"And if that, alone, was the only factor, I would agree that the matter requires further investigation. While you may have listened in on the conversation between them once inside the apartment, you were, by no fault of your own, unable to record that which they spoke about on the roof beforehoof. I feel that, in this time—" The rabbit paled. He stood stock-still for all but half a second, and then Bogo's next words crashed down atop of him.

"— I am going to talk fully and frankly with Officer Nicholas Wilde, informing him of our activities in following him, and our suspicions about him. And I will allow him to state his own case in his own words. I've had enough sneaking around the matter. With all the work he does, Wilde deserves better than that."

To Savage, the room suddenly felt far taller and darker than it had been a moment ago — the walls feeling as though they were curving in, caving in to crush him beneath them. "In... in sight of the lack of evidence and the growing list of factors suggesting Wilde's non-involvement with any criminal activities. I am, as of now, concluding your involvement in this investigation into Wilde's behavior."

"No," Jack whispered, "no, no no—"

"You did good Savage, and thanks for all your help. I knew I could trust you to do the right—"

"Sir! Wait. New… new developments are in the pipelines! Just round the corner, hanging over us like... like clouds?"

"Clouds?"

"Like trees! I don't know. Anyway, the point I'm making is that it would be unwise to conclude this at this current moment."

"Speak quickly, Savage, the jury has reached its verdict." Savage bit down on his tongue for a long moment, trying to figure out how to proceed. He couldn't tell Bogo about his and Judy's planned meeting up later on that evening. To do so might bring his impartialness into later question, if the fox's voice was heard. It was something Jack could not afford, given his past involvements with said fox.

He needed to appear whiter than white throughout the whole investigation, if he wanted to avoid ending up in the cells alongside Nick, and so he came to a conclusion about how best to proceed. "I'm sorry, Sir," he said stiffly. "I am not in a position to say."

Bogo's lip tightened. "How... so?"

"When you hired me, Sir," Jack clarified, recovering his coolness and his charm, "you did so knowing that my methods often required silence and subtlety at times. This is simply one of those times."

"Silence and subtleness," Bogo growled, "against the other officers and the press, Jack. Not to me."

"Nevertheless, this is the way it must be. Don't take this as a character judgment, Sir. But there are certain legal procedures and protocols that you, as head of the police force, would be obliged to take, if you were to be informed as to my methods. You must trust my judgment, Chief, and understand my motives and that my only, only drive in this matter... is justice."

Bogo opened his mouth sharply as though to say something harsh. Then, after a moment, it found no other choice but to carefully close. The police chief sighed again. "Alright, Jack… you can have your way. But I want to speak through this whole matter with Wilde tonight. You can have until a few hours after the raid to do what you need to do. I'll stall him until then."

"And Hopps?"

"She'll be free to do as she pleases. She'll probably head over to the safe house. Savage... why are you chuckling?"

"It's just, ugm, I mean... Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde separated? That's a rare occurrence if ever there was one."

"Huh," Bogo grunted in a dull snort, "just think of the chaos that'll run riot through the city, when the one isn't there to control and occupy the attention of the other. Still, I guess, the best partners in work and marriage aren't always going to be those who match each other perfectly, but those who can balance the strengths and the weaknesses of the other."

"Well now you're just getting poetic," Savage chimed in. "And you know what happens to police chiefs who start getting poetic."

"Yeah, Jack," Bogo chuckled, sourly, "but don't worry... I don't think I'm ready to retire to and old retirement home just yet? The judge is coming. We'll talk later."

"Laters... Chief."

The phone beeped, and the line went dead.

...

The Equipment and Maintenance Department of the ZPD was a solid, square room. The space within consisted largely of crates and shelves, a layer of grease and dust lining the floor. Small mechanical or electric parts littered a number of work benches, tools laying beside a few pieces of equipment in various states of disrepair. It was an armory of rubber bullets, flash grenades and beanbag-firing shotguns; tactical armor, plastic visors and riot shields. Police batons and tasers could be issued freely by order of the police chief, but if anything from this room was needed, the paperwork had to be signed and the use documented.

A long queue had formed in the corridor outside the Department of Equipment and Maintenance, leading up to a square window cut into the wall that was manned by an aging hippo of a wide and 'hearty' stature. Officer Rhinowitz approached the window and hoofed a signed slip of paperwork to the hippo. She examined it minutely — unconcerned about the line of officers who were waiting for their provisions — and checked it for any defects or inconsistencies. Eventually satisfied, the hippo turned from the window and disappeared into the darkness behind, emerging again a moment later with a large, gray crate in hoof, which was then passed through the window to the rhino, who heaved it up and carried it away.

The faces of two small officers — Hopps and Wilde — slowly emerged from around the corner of the corridor, some little way up from the line of officers waiting for their kits. Nothing was being exchanged between the two tiny officers, until Judy saw fit to distract herself, "Well, I wasn't quite expecting this."

"The queuing?" Nick asked.

"Yeah. I'd've thought the process should be quicker than this."

"I guess that's just what standard procedure is to you. Apparently it's against legal procedure to just paw over potential weapons to officers about to go on a raid. They have to have all the paperwork checked before they get anything pawed-out to them."

"So, what do we do? Just join the queue?"

With a sigh, Wilde started towards the slow-moving line of awaiting officers. "Not much else we can do, Carrots." Pausing for a moment, while Judy caught up, the fox and the rabbit made their way towards the line.

His nose twitching indeterminably, the ears of Officer Wolfard pricked up as the fox and rabbit approached. "Hey," Wolfard said with that same grin from the bullpen. "Commanders Head-Officers Hopps and Wilde!"

Judy smiled bashfully and Wilde grinned so at the thought. "At ease, Wolfard," Wilde jested in jovial enrichment, "Chief Hopps and I are just here to peruse the officers."

"Understood completely, Sir."

Nick smiled at the wolf. He knew that the comment may have been said as a joke, but the respect was still genuine. "Hey," Judy reminded while trying not to blush, "come on. We're not really commanding officers, you know."

A senior officer standing close-by snorted sarcastically, "Is that right?"

Their smiles fading at the coldness of the comment, the fox, rabbit and wolf quietly fell into the line. The breathing and shuffling roamed the surroundings, until Wolfard looked at the smaller officers and tried to brighten the severed mood, "By the way, I thought the two of you did a great job just now. I doubt even Bogo would've been able to deliver that info so gracefully."

"Oh, thanks, Wolfard!" Hopps beamed.

"Just call me Wool," he approved with that same young energy. "Wolfard's just too, guh..."

"Pompous?" Nick filled.

The wolf turned to Nick with a frown at the possibly mocking comment; then he spotted the warmth in the fox's smirk, and his frown grew into an opposite of nutrition to his teasing return, "Hah. You can talk, Officer 'Wilde'. What, you born and raised out in the wilds of Zoophon? What you gonna do, work into a frenzy and start yelling and throwing books about the place?"

"Well," Nick said, examining his claws, "Mother did always say I was a very... spirited child. I think, looking back, that was just a 'polite' way of saying I didn't know how to shut the heck up."

Hopps' sight fell at her feet at the mention of Nick's mother, as the memories of what he had told her about how his early life was really like — of the years spent alone, the sense of loss, the perpetual feeling ill, the sense of fear, helplessness, loneliness — moved her to wonder about how much, of what he'd say to other people, was actually true in the end. How much was just made up just to be a friendly deceit, with the idea of a positive reaction? Hopps' mind was brought sharply back to the moment when Wolfard said, "And what about your dad? What did he used to call you?"

Judy watched Nick's face. But for a slight twitch of one of his ears, his expression remained otherwise unchanged. "Rascal, most of the time," Wilde answered, his voice slightly more monotone than normal.

The wolf didn't get the gist and further included, "I bet you have some fond memories of times the two of you spent together."

"Yeah... real fond memories." Wolfard's brow furrowed slightly as he examined Nick's expression. Sure, Nick looked happy enough, acted cheerful enough, but there was something, just... wrong. Something, like—

"So, Wolfard," Hopps intervened, intentionally interrupting the wolf's line of thought, "how are you feeling about the raid tonight? Any questions?"

"Oh, erh, none that I can think of. I've never been in a 'real' raid before. Just a couple of strikes on hideouts of suspected lawbreakers a couple of times. Nothing of this magnitude."

"Well," Wilde chuckled, "experiences you have'll still be more than what Hopssey here has."

Wolfard tilted his head to one side. "More experience than Hopps? What about yourself, Wilde? You know much about police raids?"

"I, guh... no. No, I've never been involved in a raid before... never. I— I mean, how could I? I've never been on the police force before!" Nick turned to Judy as he tried to avoid Wolfard's dubious confusion... and found Hopps staring at him with much the same expression of thoughtful speculation. Concern grew within Wilde. "So, ughm," he added to the deaf musings that were playing in the frequencies around him. "So, maybe I saw a documentary on it once. Maybe read a book about it sometime..."

A moment of silence passed, but then Wolfard pulled himself back from his thoughts... Judy, however, kept her gaze firmly held on the fox. "Anyway," the wolf disbanded, "as I said, I though the two of you did a great job in the briefing. I think it's really great Bogo trusted the two of you to handle such a big job as that."

"Nice of you to say, Wool," Nick appreciated. "It's a shame not everyone were as open as you."

"Nah, they're just jealous. You wouldn't believe it, but just about eighty percent of the officers in that room have been hoping for a chance like that for months now. Most of them have never even been put in charge of leading a team before! And McHorn? Well. He's been waiting for Bogo to retire literally since forever by this point."

"You got any idea where he went to?" Hopps asked, finally releasing the fox from her hard scrutiny.

"Probably just went up to the on-site caff. He doesn't usually go far from the premise when work's still on. Then again," Wool chuckled, "he doesn't usually get kicked out with a flea in his ear like that."

"It's a shame that had to happen," the rabbit muttered. "I didn't want to do it that way."

"That's because you're compassionate," Wolfard reminded to the cheerless rabbit. "And you care about your officers. McHorn doesn't— I mean, he does care of course, just not quite as much as he should. To be honest, me and a few of the other juniors think that the reason why Bogo's held so stringently onto his duties of command for so long, is because there's no one currently of sufficient rank or ability in the ZPD, whom he feels he can trust enough to do the job right."

"But, McHorn's had far more than enough experience in policing," Hopps said.

"Right though that is, it's not just experience that matters. McHorn is dedicated and passionate and completely trustworthy with upholding the law... But he just doesn't have the right mind to deal with the job. He's too single-minded. He can't think his way around problems like the two of you can. It's no wonder," Wolfard added, concealing a grin, "that Bogo might want the two of you to take over from him."

Hopps and Wilde shared a startled glance at each other. "What!" they nearly yelled in unison.

"You, you can't be serious about that," Judy exclaimed, while the last of the officers in the queue were getting their kits.

"Hey," Wolfard pointed out, controlling a grin, "I'm not in a position to be serious or not be serious about anything. All I know," he added, stepping up to the window and pawing his requisition sheet over to the hippo, "is that after just one year of service, the two of you have suddenly been put in charge of a group of police officers... some of which have been working in this department for well over a decade."

"B-b, but— you're not saying that was Bogo testing us out or something, are you? That-that was just because he needed someone to brief the officers, and we were the only ones who knew all the facts!"

"True, true," the wolf said, taking his crate of equipment, lifting the lid and glancing over the stuff inside, "so, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it's just normal for the Chief to want to put his two most junior officers in charge of overseeing one of the most important cases this year, and the largest drug trafficking scheme, since The Firm were in power." Hopps failed to find a response to Wool's words, and Nick visibly was in a stare of speechlessness. But before they could say anything definite, Wolfard had collected his items, had saluted jokingly to his partners and had carried his hefty load away.

"Nick, what— what was—"

"Hold onto that thought for now, Carrots," he muttered, quietly, "we've got bigger problems to deal with."

"What?"

Nick nodded up to the window a few paces away, dropping his voice as low as possible. "The Matron."

"The Matron? You mean, Officer Bloat? How is she like a—"

"Are you two coming to see me or not!" demanded a very bisque and very imperious voice close by, a voice with impossibly snipped speech and the tonal qualities of a contralto opera singer.

"Oh, heh..." Judy turned quickly from the fox and paced up to the window and into the store room that was occupied by the striking figure of Officer Bloat. "Hey," Hopps greeted, "good afternoon, Officer Matr— eeep! Officer Bloat."

"It's the evening. Clearly."

"Okay, yeah, but... it's still technically after the time of noon?"

"Do you have your requisition order?"

"Yeah," Judy said, passing it up, "here."

The Matron glanced over the page. "This is written in blue ballpoint," she stated with a chill in her voice, "the form clearly states it should be in black ballpoint."

"Oh," Hopps murmured, "ughmm—"

"But that's only so it shows up if it needs to be scanned into the computer," Nick countered, even-tempered. "You just have to look at it. I'm sure you can see it just fine."

"Of course I can see it," Officer Bloat sneered, "but that's not the ruddy point."

"Then what is the point, pray?"

"Don't you use that language with me. I am not your prey!"

"Nh, no— I said pray, as in the archaic, formal adverb for asking—"

"Enough with the phatics. This is serious business. Now pass me your requisition order, Wilde. And enough with the dirty looks," she snapped at the expressionless fox, "that won't get you anywhere."

"Here you are," he said, passing it up, and then muttering under his breath, "Matron."

"Well," she said, reading over Wilde's perfectly acceptable, filled-in form, "your grammar and spelling is appalling... and this paw-writing is an atrocity. But, fortunately for you, having bad paw-writing is not a punishable offense in the ZPD."

"Tell me," Wilde jerked his voice, "did you ever try to be a teacher by any chance? Headmistress of a primary school, perhaps? Perhaps get asked to leave one day due to complaints about the treatment of your students?"

"Actually... yes," Matron confirmed, her deathly glare becoming one of confusion. "Why?"

"Oh." Nick went through the shock of his successful deduction that he rewarded with a smile. "Just wondering…"

Her expression twitched. Then, after disappearing inside for a moment, Officer Bloat came back with a single crate and two, small cases. "These are your requisition orders," she stated, hoofing them down, "our two smallest pairs of tactical armor, alongside harnesses and grappling hook equipment." The two small officers stepped up to the window to take their equipment. Carrying it a few steps away, they placed it down on the floor and started to dust off the large crates. Behind them, Bloat disappeared from the window and, shortly after, reappeared once again with a third case.

"Wilde, Hopps," she called, opening the box container, "open up your cases." They did as they were asked, and from within came out two crossbow-looking devices. "These are your grapples," she started explaining, taking out her own, with Wilde and Hopps turning to look at her as she continued. "You hold it from here and you load the grapple into the slot like this from here. There will then be a click, and the device will be armed."

Reaching back into the box, the hippo held up a length of thick wire attached to a harness. "When you suit up, you will need to loop the harness securely into the armor, and ensure the wire is securely attached at both ends. Then, when you reach the outside of the building, you will fire the grapples towards any suitable support. If you miss, just pull the slack back in and fire it off again. Just don't make too much of a pig's basket of it, okay?"

"Once that has been accomplished, simply climb the staircase by the usual means. Be sure to keep the slack tight as you climb it, just in case the staircase is less stable than we initially thought. Any questions?"

"Yeah," Nick answered to the lack of amusement of Officer Bloat, "what if a fleeing crook manages to slip by us? Will we just be left wired up to the roof and unable to give chase?"

"No, of course not. There is, on the point where the wire and the harness connect, a bolt covering an emergency release latch. If it is unlatched, it will allow the user to quickly detach themselves from the supporting wire, if it is needed."

"And if the staircase does collapse?" Hopps asked. "What then?"

"Then the two of you will be left dangling like kites caught in a tree. All you'll be able to do is wait for backup to come with a crane and let you down."

"And how long's that gonna take to arrive?"

"No more than an hour, I should think."

"Gee, great. Well, thanks a lot for all your help, Miss," Nick said, placing his crate down on the floor and pacing up to her window, "we really can't exaggerate how much use you've been to us."

"Hold your noise and get going, the both of you. And, Wilde? Stop slouching already! Stand up straight."

"You know," Nick added, smiling pleasantly, as he very internationally leaned against the window ledge between them, "you remind me a lot of my auntie."

"Really," said Bloat, unmoved, "how happy for you." With a final steely glare, the Matron slapped the wooden cover, for the window, shut on the fox's nose, to which Wilde recoiled sharply and held his purple scenter with a paw, and instantly shooting a dirty look at where Bloat was.

"Don't worry, Nick," Judy assured with a care of touch, "from what I hear, she's like that with everyone. Even Bogo doesn't dare argue with her."

"Yep, just like my aunt," Nick huffed in sourness to the room... "She was a bitch as well."

Nick departed from the window, with Judy following behind. She wanted to be scornful at his usage of bad language... but then she snorted in suppressed laughter... and hurried along to try and get away; before, the fox would see her laughing at his improper behaviour.

Author's notes:

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