As far as Judy was aware, she hadn't slept at all, and yet she blinked groggily awake in an upright sitting position. In trying to stretch stiff limbs, Judy discovered that her wrists and ankles had been strapped to a chair.
"Those restraints are tear resistant, rated to withstand tiger's teeth, I hear," said the Doctor, who stood nearby.
Judy frowned and watched him. The cat wore a much cleaner outfit today, and stood before a mirror, trimming back the unruly fluff that surrounded his muzzle. The room even smelled better, though still not very pleasant.
Seeing him now, looking far tidier than earlier, Judy realized with a jolt just who this cat was. She felt so foolish, knowing the voice but being unable to match up the face until now.
"Doctor Nikolai Augustus Katzendale, M.D., P.h.D.," she said, taken aback by his presence in this dank place.
Nikolai turned to face her, "So you remember, now."
"I remember that you were the one who figured out NHS! You were a medical hero!"
"Just note your use of the word 'were', indicating past tense," said Nikolai dismissively.
Judy looked down, to the side, all around in disbelief. In doing so, she spotted a tray of empty needles and curious bottles of unknown fluids, right beside her.
"Wha- have you been drugging me? What was in those needles? Answer me!" she demanded.
Nikolai stepped toward her, as he came to a stop, the scent of expensive, top shelf cologne wafted over, "That is none of your concern."
"It's completely my concern! It's my body! My life!" cried Judy.
"Be calm, please. I have a migraine."
"You arrogant bastard! You've been 'missing' for almost two years. Don't tell me you've been here all this time," said Judy, desperately trying to temper the inextricable rage she felt.
"I was confronted by a moral dilemma. Ultimately, my actions lead toward lasting benefits for all."
"By working with Bisonhower? He said himself that he worked with Bellwether and you think that actively helping him is a good idea? Aren't you smarter than that?" cried Judy incredulously.
"Aren't you? Besides, Ezra Bisonhower said himself that he is not a prey supremacist. I still fail to see your point," said Nikolai aloofly.
"He's an extremist! Innocent mammals have died because of him, how many before he's satisfied?"
Nikolai more or less ignored her, saying "Enough talk. I must check on a patient," and walking away.
Judy watched the Doctor approach a heavy door beside the entrance to the corridor. Nikolai gingerly entered numbers into a pin-pad and took a step back. The door, easily four times that cat's height and width, bleeped and rolled open, unleashing a cacophony of animalistic sounds; barking, roaring, growling, and bleating filled the air. An unbearable, thick and noxious cloud of mixed odors swept through the lab.
Nikolai's ears flattened as he crept in, grimacing. Judy could not take her eyes off the door until he returned after several minutes, tensed up and with fur ruffled up all over. He backed into the room with a device in his hand, followed by a mechanized trolley that rattled it's way into the room.
As the trolley turned, Judy saw the contents of the cage that sat on top: A small, bedraggled fennec fox lay still.
Judy called out, "Finnick! Is that you in there?"
The tiny predator groaned and turned over.
"Silence!" hissed Nikolai at Judy, startling the creature in the cage.
The fennec fox whined and stood with an awkward spasm, gaze darting manically everywhere. Judy was certain now that it was Finnick.
"Oh, for God's sake, now you've done it."
Judy ignored the Doctor, yelling, "Finnick! It's me, Judy! Nick's friend!"
Finnick stared at Judy, cocking his head to one side with a sudden twitch. He seemed about to speak, however he collapsed and started screaming manically.
"Gemme outta here," he whimpered, before screaming, "The noises! I can't block out the noises! It's, it's. . . It's all around me!"
"Hey, hey!" said Nikolai, trying to calm the fox, who'd descended to the point of incoherent mumbling and thrashing.
As if she weren't horrified enough, Finnick seemed to calm and his breathing normalized; before giving way to some sort of violent seizure followed by harsh snarling.
On his knees, Finnick cried out, "I've seen it a thousand times, now it's me, oh God!"
Nikolai still had his paws near the cage trying to temper the fox. Now completely savage, Finnick leapt into the side of the cage and slashed at the Doctor's arm.
"Son of a- Shit," grumbled Nikolai, clutching his arm that now dripped blood.
"What have you done to him . . ." murmured Judy.
"Well," started Nikolai, regarding the savage Finnick, "That would not have occurred if you'd kept quiet."
A hard banging on the corridor entrance stunted the conversation. Nikolai walked over, all the while trying to dress his wounds.
"What? What do you want?" he demanded, opening an eye-hole on the front.
On the other side stood a hapless minion, who, upon seeing the Doctor's bloodied arm, said, "Whoa, you need a Doctor, bro. Oh right . . ."
"Never mind that," Nikolai snapped, "what do you want?"
"Oh. Big B wanted me to remind you that tomorrow's the day."
"Ah. I see," said Nikolai, almost sounding defeated.
Nikolai closed the eye slot and trudged over to his desk, where he dejectedly nursed his damaged limb.
"Tomorrow's the day? The day for what?" asked Judy.
"That," started Nikolai, who didn't even look at her, "is also none of your concern."
Nick hadn't slept at all, not a wink. He simply could not lose consciousness with the thought of Judy being out there, held captive somewhere.
By about eleven O'clock, he'd downed a few mugs of instant coffee and trudged out to town.
When he reached the lunch bar, Nick peered in the window. Sure enough, he saw Isaac, sat at a middle table eating a considerable helping of pancakes.
Nick felt a gust of air as someone rushed past him. He turned and saw Nicole in a mighty hurry.
"Hey," he called out, "Nicole?"
The amber eyed creature turned with a confused expression that quickly switched to recognition when she spotted Nick.
"Well hello again," she said, padding over.
"Hi there. Glad I caught you, 'cause I've just seen Isaac," explained Nick.
"Really!?"
"Yup. He's right in that lunch bar, and he's just itching to talk to you," Nick fibbed.
Nicole had to stifle a gleeful squeak when she spotted Isaac through the window.
"Thank you, erhm. Sorry, what's your name?"
"Oh no, I'm sorry. My name's Jim."
"Thanks again, Jim," said Nicole as she turned away.
Nicole dashed to the door and stopped to take a breath. Having regained composure, she took up a feminine swagger and sat right across from Isaac.
Nick watched through the window as the two interacted. An unforgettable look on Isaac's face that a mask of false confidence quickly covered. Nick knew from experience that this encounter would have Isaac feeling quite nervous. That being said, Nick could tell that Isaac welcomed Nicole's presence.
Nick pushed through the entrance door and sauntered over to Isaac's table just as Nicole stood and started to leave.
"It was so cool seeing you again. See ya later, Izzy," said Nicole in a somewhat reluctant farewell.
Isaac's gaze followed her out the door, then fell upon Nick, forcing a scowl to take over his features.
"Well hello there, Izzy. Good to see you!" greeted Nick.
Isaac grumbled, "I was doing just fine until you hurled me in the deep end. And my name is not Izzy!"
"Whatever, kid. You enjoyed it."
"It's bad enough you lie to my mother, but did you really have to lie to her as well?"
Nick sighed and said, "Ideally I'd be completely truthful. But, given the current situation, I don't know who I can trust with my identity."
"Right . . ." said Isaac, skeptically.
"Never mind that now, are we gonna keep hunting for clues or what?"
"Well, I've been thinking about that, have you even got any weapons?" asked Isaac.
"I've been carrying this tranq gun around," said Nick, discreetly revealing the weapon concealed in his coat.
"Whoa. Is that a T96? Cool, got any ammo?"
Nick went quiet.
"I take that as a no. You familiar with the TPs?" asked Isaac.
Nick scoffed, "You mean the lamest excuse for a street gang in existence?"
"Yeah well, since Bisonhower came along, they've been packing heat, if you know what I mean. There turf is bigger now too."
"Hmph. How convenient."
"Yup. Anyway, they seem to hang around West Savanna Central, in the industrial part, know the spot?"
"Yeah, like the back of my paw," remarked Nick.
Isaac paused before saying, "You thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Stakeout, then follow one of those morons right to the cookie jar? Then yes."
Isaac nodded, and so the two departed for the West. An electrical substation marked the divide between the residential and industrial sections of the district. From there, all the pair had to do was find one of the 'TPs'.
TP is a shortening of 'Trash Panda'. These 'Trash Pandas' are composed entirely of raccoons. The name comes from an insult given them by an official during a court case, labeling them as a band of goons and ruffians, or, as he put it, 'trash pandas'. The gang is very proud of this title, believing at as a sign of notoriety and strength.
At times they are described like wayward teenagers as, until recently, they'd be seen armed with baseball bats and perhaps gardening equipment, such as a shovel or hoe.
Hiding beside a decrepit bus shelter, Nick could make out a pair of raccoons in matching greaser outfits. They probably even had flip-out combs. He turned to Isaac and flicked his ears in their direction. Isaac nodded with a serious expression and the two began their stakeout.
A couple of hours of discreet shadowing came to be well worth it, as Isaac and Nick reached a junction where they could see numerous raccoons patrolling in and out of a nearby building.
Said building sat right on the edge of the district, the river between the industrial zone and the Rainforest District lay just behind.
Night had begun to creep up the streets of the city. Nick turned to Isaac, the cat's eyes darted all around and he seemed incredibly tense even for a mammal his size.
"These guys have been pretty active during the day, who knows how much busier they'll get as the moon rises," said Nick idly.
Isaac said nothing.
"Come on, let's see what we can find," said Nick.
Isaac nodded and warily said "Okay."
Nick darted across to the building as soon as the patrols broke up, Isaac followed as close as his legs would allow, panting all the way. Nick crept in the front door and followed his nose to a sort of dead-end hallway. At the far end sat a bench and behind that, a crate right up against the wall.
Stepping close to the box, Nick said, "This crate looks very new. What say we take a look inside?"
"Uh, okay," Isaac.
Nick lifted the lid quietly and peeked inside; metal boxes, tools and thingie-doofers filled the crate to the brim. Nick pushed it open all the way and started to rummage. Isaac tip-toed up, and seeing the crate's contents, skipped like a kitten to get a better look.
"Hey, fox! Look, T96 clips," said the cat, gleefully holding up little trays of darts.
"T96 is what I have right? Pass them here."
Isaac looked in again and frowned. He reached as far as he could and pulled out a long spring-loaded box full of brass casings. He popped one out to have a closer look.
"Hey, uh, Nick? This is a bullet."
Nick stopped and looked at the little lead-capped cartridge and frowned, "Yes?"
"As in, a lethal projectile," said Isaac, beginning to sound wary again.
Nick took the bullet and tossed it away, "Relax. They're for hunting birds, I'm sure of it."
A moment later, thunderous banging and bright flashes filled the corridor, supersonic projectiles ripped up the ground and walls around Isaac and Nick. As the two took cover behind a bench, they could only catch a glimpse of the source.
"Bullets!" yelped Isaac, "real bullets fired out of real guns!"
Nick could barely make out his voice over the clattering.
"Holy shit! We're gonna die, fox! They're g-going to kill us!" cried Isaac.
The banging and flashes gave way to a voice grumbling, followed by metal clicking and clacking.
Not even sure how he was coping, Nick put his paws on Isaac's shoulders, "We are still alive. Stay calm, as a good friend has taught me, there is always a way out."
"Aight, punks. Come out, all of youse. Paws where I can see em'!"
The fox and cat wordlessly complied, standing up from behind the bench. Three very serious looking raccoons stood in the entrance to the corridor.
Nick took a cautious step toward them saying, "Okay. It's just us two back here. We were just being a little nosy. So how about you point the gun someplace else, look the other way, and you'll never see us ever again."
"That's close enough, Jack!" yelled the main raccoon, pointing his weapon right at Nick's head, adding, "I say what's what, not you, bucko."
A fourth raccoon appeared at the doorway, saying, "What's goin' on, I'm tryin' to sleep you big palookas!"
Then he saw Isaac.
"Katzendale," said the fourth raccoon, pushing his way past the other three.
"Oh, hi Ivan. I was actually just about to bring you the rest of the money for the car but I-"
Ivan cut him off, sneering, "Left it at home? That's just fine. Me and the boys will just pay Mammie a visit, I'm sure she can get it for us."
"The boys and I," yelled Isaac.
Ivan rushed forward and pinned the young cat to a wall, the others followed and surrounded Nick.
"Hey, you let him go!" Nick demanded.
"Or what, tough guy?" sneered Ivan.
"Or I bring the full force of the law down on your sorry ass."
"Excuse me?" said the gun-toting raccoon.
Nick stood confidently and said, "My name is Nicholas P. Wilde, an officer of the Zootopia Police Department."
All four raccoons broke down into a cacophony of awful cackling and laughter that Nick wasn't sure how to process.
"What if he is though?" asked one.
The others immediately stopped laughing and looked Nick in the eye, the gun once again aimed at his head.
Isaac quietly said, "He's not."
"What did you say, Katzendale?"
"I said, he's not Officer Wilde. He's just some mook I met on the street. He wanted some good stuff, I told him I might know where to find it," explained Isaac.
"Just some mook, eh? What's his name then, smartypants?" asked Ivan.
"Jim Kirk."
After a sort of obtuse and one-sided staring contest, Ivan let go of Isaac and stepped back. As if in response, the gun lowered away from Nick.
"Aight then. I'll look the other way and you two'll scram. And that's only 'cause the boss don't want us hassling ordinary folk."
Nick and Isaac walked uneasily out of the Trash Pandas' meeting place, aware of the raccoons' harsh glaring. The two walked quietly and calmly back the way they had come, all the way through the industrial sector. Neither spoke until they returned to Isaac's car.
After fastening his seatbelt, Isaac said, "I honestly didn't think we'd get out of there alive."
"It's like I said," started Nick, "there is always a way out. Thanks, by the way."
"For what?"
"For sticking your neck out like that. A bold strategy, but to be sure, it paid off," explained Nick thoughtfully.
Isaac said nothing, he just pulled away from the kerb and drove through the quiet streets.
"You hungry?" asked Isaac.
Nick's stomach responded with a growl before the fox could open his mouth.
"Alrighty. My treat."
"Oh no, you don't have to do that," said Nick.
"I insist."
Isaac grew disheartened as every Bug-Burga in town had been closed due to 'civil unrest'. At this time of night, just about everybody had gone to bed by now. After a while, at Nick's behest, Isaac conceded to getting cheap takeout.
"Sorry I couldn't get anything nicer…" Isaac lamented, finishing his last morsel.
"Don't worry about it. After today, and at this hour, food is food. Even if it is greasy, lukewarm and cost less than the box it came in," said Nick, shrugging.
The car's occupants sat in silence for a while.
After a while, Nick turned to Isaac and asked him, "How did you know your bluff would work?"
"I didn't. It was a bluff after all. I was terrified. I don't think I've ever been more scared in my entire life, It's just as well those guys are as thick as two short planks."
"Nobody seems to recognize me… I-I just don't get it," said Nick, thinking out loud.
"Well, you know everybody, right? That's what I hear about you."
"Yeah, for sure."
"Then I guess, just because you know everybody, that doesn't mean everybody knows you. But me? Heaps of people know me. Yet I wonder, how many of them actually care about anything I do?" Isaac mused.
Nick thought for a moment before saying, "Tell you what, when this over, when we're done, I'll care."
"Wh-what?" asked Isaac, tipping his fuzzy face to one side.
"I said, I'll be your friend. And by God, it won't stop there, I know heaps of mammals who will love you to bits. Like uh, my buddy Ben. You two will get on like a house on fire, I just know it."
Isaac looked down, mulling things over, before looking back at Nick, "You'd really do all that, for me?"
"Of course, I promise."
Isaac seemed to ponder over this for a while. A grin spread across his round mug.
"I can see the headline now; Nick Wilde," started the cat, "big bad fox copper. Turns out to be biggest softie ever."
"Guilty as charged," Nick said.
Isaac dropped Nick off by the Grand Pangolin Arms. Both predators hesitated to leave.
"Tomorrow's the day," said Nick, climbing out of the coupe.
"Indeed. See you then."
Nick nodded to Isaac who nodded back. The fox climbed the steps slowly and deliberately and kept looking back toward the car. Before Nick entered the building proper, He gave Isaac one last wave and the cat drove away into the night.
Laying back on Judy's sofa, Nick contemplated the day's events. He didn't even get up to the part with the raccoons before he fell fast asleep.
End Notes
Whew. I can't believe how far I've come with this.