Chapter 10.

Visiting hours for Zootopia General were between two and six but officers of the ZPD had been coming and going since ten in the morning. It was just past noon and Judy felt exhausted. Any officer with time to spare had come to wish her well and swear that they'd get the Monochrome Gang if they had to tear Zootopia apart to do it. It filled her with hope but it was slowly draining her as well. Two officers stood guard outside her room constantly and a small SWAT team were on call just down the hall. There was no telling if the Monochrome Gang would come back for her.

"We're already making inroads Hopps," Wolford explained. "We have the search areas narrowed down to Foxton and the Upper Wolverine Row. We're not going to do any raids until we're certain. Still those are big areas so it'll take a little while."

"I know Wolford," said Judy, smiling tiredly. "I'll be out in another day and I'll be ready then."

"Good to hear Hopps. Chief says you'll be partnering with me for the duration of the search."

Judy was surprised at this and Wolford's uneasy expression spoke volumes. The Timber wolf usually flew solo unless he had to pair with Grizzoli. His tendency to go it alone had earned him the uncreative nickname Lone Wolf. Judy didn't know the full story but it had something to do with Jason Wolford's decade of military service before joining the ZPD. Rumours persisted that he had been part of some special forces two-person team. He had lost his partner in a mission gone wrong and suffered from PTSD as a result. Thus, he took on the role of a highway patrolman within the ZPD.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," said Judy cheerfully. "Except, well, you know…"

"I get you Hopps," said the wolf. "Hell, it might even be fun. You never know."

"Thanks Wolford."

The timber wolf nodded and got up. His smile was easy now and he waved a cheerful goodbye to the bunny. Judy checked the clock and saw it was nearly lunch. There would be no other visits for a little while. She eased herself up, her ribs twinging painfully as she did. Her ankle was twisted and there was a minor fracture in her left paw. Nothing too serious and her doctor, Francis Horton, had advised a week's bedrest and laughed along with Bogo at the look on Judy's face.

She sighed and turned to look out the drizzle soaked window. The storms had not been as ferocious ever since Nick's capture. The improving weather gave Judy hope. It was another pro to add to the list in her head she was using to try and stay positive. It wasn't easy though. Even with all the support from her fellow officers and the city at large the thought of Nick, alone and hurting, in some crumbling safe house made her quiver with rage. She would put Jackson Crossing and the rest of his wannabe terrorists behind bars if it was the last thing she did.

NEXT MORNING. ZPD BULL PEN.

Bogo could hear the tables rattling and the roars of all the officers in the bull pen from fifty feet away. They were truly fired up this morning. Yesterday and the day before had been a rush of confusion. The voles in Zootopia Traffic Control had spent day and night crawling through hours of CCTV footage looking for a trace of the infamous black van. Highway patrol had found it burnt out in an empty lot at the junction that divided the routes to Foxton and the Upper Wolverine Row. Today they would again increase the search in both areas. Wilde and the other mammals had to be found and soon before the Monochrome Gang pulled something drastic.

He pushed in the door and the chanting and pounding grew to fever pitch as he approached the podium. Francine and Bungo trumpeted for silence as Bogo raised both hooves, his expression one of stony determination. He looked out at a sea of equally sure faces. These mammals wanted blood and Bogo understood. There was little chance of there being a trial when they caught up with the Monochrome Gang. It was a guaranteed bloodbath something that Bogo was uncomfortable admitting.

"Alright, alright," he announced. "I have one item on the docket this morning and we all know what it is. Two days ago, on Wednesday the sixth of August, Detective Nick Wilde and Detective Judy Hopps were assaulted by the Monochrome Gang. Wilde was abducted and Hopps was injured. She will be returning to active duty tomorrow and the search will begin in earnest."

"What's the plan Chief?" called Fangmeyer.

"The Monochrome Gang are likely hiding out in one of the derelict high rises in either Foxton or the Upper Wolverine Row. We are going to comb those areas until there's nowhere left for those mangy mammals to hide. I want plainclothes officers on every major street in these areas. Choppers will be doing hourly fly-bys and we'll have our usual patrols operating as well. Should you see anything suspicious immediately report it to Clawhauser. SWAT teams will be ready to go at a moment's notice. It is vital you wait for back-up we don't need heroes we need results. There'll be plenty of glory to go around when we rescue Wilde and the other mammals. Any questions?"

There were none. Bogo dismissed them and was left in the relative silence of the bull pen. His thoughts crowded in on him like buzzing flies. His tail flicked in agitation and his nostrils flared. He had confidence in his officers and their abilities but that didn't stop niggling doubts from intruding on him.

Hopps and Wilde were an inspiration to the city and the ZPD. But more than that they were an inspiration to him. They had woken up the jaded buffalo. He felt eager and ready to take on new challenges with them under him. They had proven his doubts about Lionheart and Bellweather right. He had high hopes for his two newest detectives and he would be damned if he let some two-bit, has-been, idiotic terrorist cell get in the way. Bogo snorted like a steam train and stormed out of the bull pen. This was his city and they were his officers. It was time to go to work.

THAT NIGHT. SOMEWHERE IN FOXTON.

The floor was dirty, bare wood planks. The walls were dry, cracked plaster. It was cold in the apartment and a naked bulb flickered above the bound fox. His breathing was even though dried blood crusted his snout and his uniform was torn and filthy. Nick looked around him and, despite not knowing the time of day or what was happening, he knew where he was; Foxton. His old home. A sprawling slum that occupied the hills of Zootopia's northern temperate zone. Its proximity to Tundra Town and, by proxy, the Big Family had given Foxton the reputation as a haven for crooks of the vulpine kind.

So, if he was here where was Judy? He could remember everything up until Crossing had hit him. After that, darkness and then waking up tied to this splintery chair. He couldn't hear anything except for late night traffic far below and patrolling pawsteps outside his room. He wriggled against the rough rope tying his hands together. It was tied tight and bit painfully into his wrists. Nick snarled and snapped at the air in frustration. Judy could be in the building in the same position as he was or worse. On the other hand, she could be leading a full-frontal assault on this place right now. Nick knew which possibility was more likely and smirked at the thought.

He decided to sit and wait. Nick could be patient when he wanted to be. There was no point friction burning his hands so that they were unusable. There was a time to strike and a time to wait. Nick was merely waiting to strike. It wouldn't take long for the ZPD to find him. They'd already narrowed down their search areas. That is if the Monochrome Gang didn't kill him first. Nick wouldn't let that happen if he could help himself.

He heard pawsteps outside and sat straighter in the chair. Shadows blocked the crack of light in the door and there was murmured conversation. Nick heard what he expected to. Mentions of his name, Judy, the ZPD and how society would learn how wrong it had been all these years. Then the door opened.

"Officer Wilde," said a voice that was more lion growl than zebra neigh. "Good to see you're awake."

"Jackson Crossing," acknowledged Nick. "Amazingly the dark only makes you uglier."

"Witty and honest," stated Crossing, moving closer. "Say what you like Detective because soon you'll be dead."

"Ditto."

Crossing laughed at that his scar pulling his mouth into an ugly rictus sneer. Green eyes flashed in the dark as Crossing lit a cigarette. Nick watched the smoke spiral upwards before watching it disappear in the darkness just beyond the bulb. It filled him with a sense of indescribable dread but Nick didn't let them see that Crossing got to him. He had the same attitude to bullies as he had to terrorists.

"It's a shame we didn't get your partner Nick," mused Crossing. "It would have made all this much more meaningful. Pred and prey drawn together and then ripped apart by the evils of government corruption and societal prejudice. I guess your death will have to do."

"These ropes can't hold me forever," stated Nick, his heart swelling. "And you can't hide forever Crossing. Kill me and the ZPD will make sure you don't die a martyr's death. They'll do it all by the book just to get at you and your little movement. You'll go to the Pound for twenty years going through trial after trial, run the gauntlet of the appeals process until eventually they strap you into a gurney and inject you with poison. All legal, all government sanctioned."

Crossing's fist snapped out clocking Nick in the snout. The fox spat blood and grinned through red teeth. The zebra's eyes were cold and hard as stone. He flicked the cigarette and orange sparks burst against Nick's chest. Crossing leaned in and stared right into Nick's emerald eyes, that rictus grin ever-present on his scarred face.

"I know a lot about you fox," he spat. "I know your friends, your co-workers, your cons. I know you've broken before and believe me before we're through I will break you again even if it kills me."