Dust rubbed his cheek through the black mask he wore, wincing slightly as his fingers brushed over the area where Lesnitsky had punched him. The gauze was removed from his cheek, as was the remaining bandages from the hospital. He felt that they limited his mobility, and any white that somehow poked through his black clothes, it would easily give away his position.
"So, how long should we wait for you?" Nick asked, driving the car through the darkened streets of Savannah Central.
Dust sat in the back seat, his arms folded as he stared ahead between the fox and rabbit before him. "Fifteen minutes. Lucas lives on the third floor from the top, but I'll need an alternative way into his apartment – he's a SWAT commander. No doubt has some security systems in place on the doors."
"So, what's your plan?" Judy asked, looking back at the masked fox.
"He's what, seven stories up? Who would put alarms on a window with no fire escape," came the response, a smirk hidden under the darkened cloth.
"And if he's awake?" Nick asked curiously.
"Depends on where he is, how awake, how alert, armed, whatever. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it."
"Right," Nick said, seemingly unconvinced. Beneath his hood, Dust's ears flicked in annoyance.
They doubt you.
Don't blame them, he thought. Breaking into the home of a SWAT officer isn't exactly easy. Or smart. Or sane. He chuckled softly.
"We're here," Nick broke into the other fox's thoughts. "Fifteen starts now?"
Dust nodded. "Stay out of the lights. I'll text you once I'm on the way out."
And with that, the fox climbed out of the black car, looking at the tinted windows reassuringly – or, at least, as reassuringly as his neutral gaze could. A soft pop sounded from the back of the vehicle as he walked around, reaching inside to grab a small rappelling device he had fashioned earlier that day.
It was based on a tri-pod, a lengthy rope tied to a small weight coiled up at the top. Once released, the rope would unravel, the weight keeping it in place long enough for it to be used by a smaller mammal. The base of the device would have to have its own added weights – it was a sacrifice that had to be made for such a small mammal to transport it. Hopefully there would be rocks or something usable on the roof of the apartment.
Hefting the tool over his shoulder, he looked across the silent street, before glancing at the thin wedge of moon in the sky, noting its almost imperceptible descent to the horizon. Dipping lower to the ground, he sprinted across the street, pushing into the lobby of the apartment. A bear was asleep at the desk, a magazine set on his stomach. One less problem to deal with, the fox thought, looking around for cameras – only one seemed to be in the lobby, lazily moving from side to side. He was about to rush forward again when he looked up, a gut feeling stopping him just in time – a second camera lay above him.
Giving a silent curse, he crouched down and watched the cameras go along their programmed paths. They turned in sync, leaving very little room for the fox to move around without being detected.
He cast a glance at his watch, the red circle emitting a faint countdown: 13:42, and decreasing. Casting one more glance at the cameras, the fox pressed himself to the wall, careful to not bump it with his tools, and began to shift along to the stairwell.
The cameras continued their dutiful monitoring of the lobby, their faint mechanical whirring filling the otherwise silent room, only to have it broken by the sound of a door shutting as the fox darted through his exit, the camera turning his way picking up little more than a shadow beyond the door's threshold.
Another glance to the watch told Dust he had 11:58 left to do this mission. The sprint up the stairs was taxing, leaving the small mammal almost breathless as he pushed open the door to the roof, timing it so the top camera had no sight of him as he went on. The cold night air brushed against what little fur was exposed on him as he got his bearings, causing him to let out a small sigh of relief.
It was short-lived, however, as he moved towards the side of the building, dropping the rig to the ground as he looked around. Some random, broken bricks, a few rocks, but nothing completely solid for the item to use. With a hiss of annoyance, the red fox began setting up the device, using whatever he could get his paws on to weigh it down.
Another glance at the watch – 8:36.
Reaching onto the toolbelt of his backpack, Dust moved to the edge of the roof, dropping down the weight and rope. It was just barely long enough, stopping not far above the ground, leaving him roughly a story drop. He could deal with that; he'd had worse falls and scrapes.
Like a knife to the side and arm. Or that time a SWAT van rammed the car I was in, he thought bitterly.
If not for that, this whole situation could've been avoided. But of course, once he and his team had emerged from the shadows, Phraxus was out for their blood – getting some of Zootopia's finest cops out of the way was just an added bonus, hence the multiple attempts on the officers waiting below.
Dust clipped the small repelling tool he had made and checked to be sure it was tied to his belt properly. It was a small winch, operated off a set of 9-volt batteries that had just enough power to raise and lower the fox. After making sure it, and he, was secure, he stepped off the rooftop and made his descent to the window he needed.
The rope didn't fall right in front of the window – that would make it far too obvious to anyone who might be looking out their window above or below him that something was off. No, instead it was set off to the side, between two apartments. With careful precision, the fox shoved himself to one side of the rope, the momentum from the swing to latch onto the windowsill he needed.
Great, he thought, looking at the watch again. 8:03.
Drawing out a small crowbar, the fox forced the straighter end in the space between the window and its frame. He pressed down against it a few times, adding more of his weight each time, until his entrance began to slowly creak open. Once the opening was just large enough, a short ascent and swing inward later, and the fox was crouched down in the living room of Lucas's apartment.
Dust took a careful look around. The apartment didn't seem to be anything special. The usual appliances were there, if not somewhat higher-end than most. A game station and DVD player sat beneath a TV set, the large flatscreen looming over most of the wall. The walls were fairly bare, the majority of the white space being a blank canvas. A large, forest green couch sat between the wall with the TV, a counter separating it from the kitchen, an island keeping the room from feeling too empty. The hallway just beside the kitchen had three doors to it, each one closed.
If I were an illegal piece of evidence, where would I –
Keep it close to me at all times. The bedroom.
Worth a try.
Dust looked around briefly for any obvious security measures, before heading down the hallway, keeping himself as quiet as possible, before glancing at the watch again.
7:14.
The masked fox looked in each room he passed. The first one to the left was just a simple bathroom, with all the normal fixtures. White towels, a light blue curtain blocking the shower, and nothing of any interest to the fox.
The next room, the first to the right, was a guest bedroom – a typical fancy quilt with matching throw pillows covering a bed just right for any medium-sized mammal who might be staying over. But nothing of interest to the fox, yet again.
The second door to the right was a simple closet – ferret sized coats hung above various cleaning supplies, spare blankets, and other random items, including a toolbox. Dust searched through the clothes, finding little more than spare change.
That just leaves door number four, Dust thought, slowly turning the door handle. Once the door gave way, he peered in, letting his natural night vision help him see the inside of the room.
A small form lay in the bed, a cream comforter showing a bulge on one side of the bed, a slow yet steady rising and falling showing the occupant to be asleep. The walls in this room weren't quite as bare as the rest, a smaller TV resting to the right, beside a wooden dresser. The walls had several pictures of Lucas from various stages of his life – a date with a finely dressed white rabbit, his graduation from both the academy and school, a few from his youth. A wooden nightstand was to the left of the bed, a lamp resting atop it. The dark blue ceramic was nearly invisible against the wall, papers littering its base, some spilling onto the floor. A small sword sat in a corner, the black sheathe gleaming from the moonlight. Given the small curve and elegant design of the handle and sheathe, it appeared to be a nodachi – the right size to be a full on sword for a smaller mammal.
Slipping in silently, Dust lowered himself to the ground to peer under the bed – a few boxes. The gloved paw reached under and silently slid out one of several, prying it open. Inside was several sets of clothes – hoodies, shirts, pants, a pair of shorts - the pockets of which were all empty.
The second box was filled with blankets.
Nothing special here, Dust thought. These boxes all seem like they haven't been touched in ages.
A brief moment of sliding the boxes into place later, and Dust was crouching as he shifted around the room. There was no closet, as far as he could see.
Moving over to the dresser, Dust began rifling through the clothes, briefly patting them down in hopes of finding his hard drive. After going through the last drawer, he checked the watch again – 5:38.
It HAS to be here, somewhere...
Dust began feeling a knot in his stomach as he looked around, finding little else he could search through, until his eyes fell onto the nightstand, a small, golden lock on the drawer catching his eye.
Bingo, he thought. The fox made his way over to the nightstand, pausing to shift around the papers so he wouldn't step on them as he tugged the drawer lightly. It didn't budge. Giving a silent hiss, he drew out a small lockpicking kit from one of his pant pockets, and went to work. Less than ten seconds later, a nearly inaudible click sounded from the lock. Dust looked to his right – Lucas was fast asleep and facing away from him, his white nightshirt rising and falling with him as he breathed. Despite his clear slumber, the feeling of unease within Dust grew.
Good, he thought. Stay just like that, and there's no problems.
Murphy's Law.
You're going to jinx me.
Right, because you need so much help with screwing yourself over.
The black-clad fox tugged out the drawer, carefully examining its contents until he saw what he needed – a small silver hard drive. He reached out and grabbed it, freezing with widening eyes as he heard metal sliding against metal – a gun being loaded.
"Freeze."
Blood running cold, Dust froze in place. A glance out of the corner of his eyes told him that Lucas hadn't been as fast asleep as he'd thought, and he was now holding a black gun to the side of the fox's head.
"On the ground, now." Lucas demanded, the ferret's eyes being wide and alert. Dust complied slowly, keeping his gaze on the ferret as he began to lower himself.
Oh, Lucas... You've got the gun way too close to me. You're stood in an awkward position, and you don't have your cuffs.
He should know better.
You'd think so, wouldn't you?But the biggest mistake...
Lucas shifted off the bed, keeping the gun against Dust as he reached for something out of sight. The fox kept quiet as he placed his paws behind his back, as if waiting to be cuffed. There was a brief pause before he felt the metal barrel shift away from his head.
You're in a pitch black room with a fox.
Dust rolled around, a paw smacking Lucas's as he scrambled to his feet. The gun was still being directed back to him once he plucked the hard drive from where it sat in the drawer, sliding it into a pocket as he leaped over the bed. Shots rang out, and the tip of his tail began to burn as he dropped to the ground on all fours, pushing himself towards the doorway. Pain shot through his side, the cut Lesnitsky gave him burning.
His opponent was on him in almost an instant. Dust grunted and pushed for the wall, hearing Lucas grunt as he was smashed against it. Dust rammed his back into the wall a few more times, until the ferret loosened its grip on his back, leaving him free to scramble for the door. More shots rang out, wood from the door splintering as he ducked out of the room.
Dust looked at the watch, wincing as a bullet went past his shoulder. 4:13. He had a small window to knock out his foe.
Diving over the couch, Dust reached under his coat and took hold of his baton. He held the rubberized grip firmly as he peered over the dark green cushioning, ducking down as he saw Lucas rushing at him with both the gun, and something else in his grip.
One more shot went out, the round blowing through the couch and clipping his side, catching just under his coat. With a hiss, Dust set a paw on the area he'd been hit, looking down for blood, before looking up to see that Lucas was much closer now, gun aimed at him from a safer distance. The two began to stare each other down, one indigo gaze meeting the others icy blue.
Dust continued staring as Lucas pushed the gun slightly closer to him. "Give me the hard drive, and you live," he demanded.
Dust was silent, and still.
"Now! Give me the damned hard drive!"
More silence. Lucas's eyes twitched, full of emotions that drew curiosity from the fox. Anger, fear, worry were the prominent ones. The masked fox risked a look back to the bedroom, the photo of Lucas with the white rabbit being the only visible thing from his position. Wheels churned in his head.
"Who is she?" he asked, finding satisfaction in Lucas's slightly startled expression.
"The rabbit. Who is she?"
Lucas glared at him. "Give. Me. The hard drive." His voice was seeping with anger and urgency.
"She's your girlfriend, isn't she? The one they took to get to you?"
Lucas flinched. "Now!"
"Why do you need the drive?"
"Shut up and give it to me!" Lucas was becoming restless, the gun shaking slightly as his knuckles gripped it tightly.
"They took her to get you to help them, right? So they could stop us?"
"Give me the drive!" Lucas shot to Dust's side, as a warning, before pointing it at the fox's forehead. Dust flinched, his ears pressing against his head lightly.
"Who took her?" he asked, trying desperately to ignore the new pain in his right side.
Lucas growled menacingly, aiming lower and pulling the trigger to shoot between Dust's legs. The fox flinched again, feeling the carpeting rise up lightly. Lucas aimed at his head again. "You have five seconds," he hissed. Dust flicked his tail, staring at the ferret with an icy calm gaze, letting the seconds tick away, until the trigger was pulled.
Click.
No bullets sprang from the barrel. Lucas's eye twitched as he pulled the trigger again.
Click.
And again.
Click. Click. Click.
"You're out," Dust said, rising from his crouched position. "And, so am I." He turned and rushed for the door, turning the locks to yank it open. The wood let out a horrid splintering sound as pain shot through the fox's side above his new gunshot wound, making him look back. In the brief moment he'd taken his eyes off Lucas, the ferret had drawn out the sword from his bedroom and driven it into the doorway, almost cutting through the fox.
With a grunt, he lifted a booted foot and kicked the smaller opponent, watching him sprawl along the ground as the blade was wrenched free. Flinging open the door, Dust sprinted into the hallway, ignoring the surprised looks some of the officer's neighbors gave him. The gunshots had most likely woken them, Dust realized. There was a brief scream of shock, causing the masked intruder to look back, spotting the smaller mammal racing towards him with the nodachi in paw.
With a flick of the wrist and a satisfying clacking sound, Dust's collapsible baton extended out. He turned to face the ferret as he neared the stairwell, backhanding his weapon against the blade once it was in reach and forcing it away, before pressing both ends against his paws to collapse it again, sliding it into its sheathe. The momentum tripped up his foe, making him fall to the ground, buying the fox just enough time to move into the stairwell and sprint upwards.
The sound of small feet slamming against the concrete behind him let him know the SWAT officer wasn't giving up on him. Pushing onto the roof, he slammed the door shut, taking a step back as part of it gave way with a terrible screech to the lethal metal of the sword. The hooded fox turned and sprinted for his rig, drawing out the small tool he'd used to descend earlier. Without so much as a second thought, the fox skid to a stop and clipped the tool to both the rope and his belt, looking back once as the ferret flung open the door and raced towards him, a look of desperation in his eyes.
He began his descent as quickly as he could, dropping down as fast as the small device would let him. Ignoring the cry of anguish that sounded from above, he reached over and pressed a small button on the left side of his watch.
The timer read 0:13.
He looked across the street, noticing the car that Nick, Judy and he had used to get here was idling on the side of the road. Good timing, you two, he thought, looking up at the sky. He had descended the majority of the building, and there was no way the ferret could make it to the bottom floor in time to catch him. Dust let out a sigh of relief.
This was quickly turned into a gasp of surprise as the rope went slack. His eyes widened as he began a freefall from over two stories up, the pavement rushing up to greet him.
Dust let out a huge gasp of pain as he hit the ground, something in his side giving a crack he felt rather than heard. He choked for air, the necessary substance seemingly unavailable to him for a brief moment. His vision blurred as he gave a cough, something staining the inside of his mask and filling his nose with a now-familiar scent. His mouth tasted lightly of copper – blood. "J-Just great..." he groaned, free paw clutching his side as he tried scrambling for the car. His left arm felt like it was one fire, and he could feel something warm trickling into his glove. It ached, as did his entire side and collection of recent wounds.
A gray paw pushed open the back door as he scrambled to his feet, Judy giving him a worried expression as he flung himself into the back seat. Before the door was closed, Nick had already stepped on the gas, driving down the street. Dust looked over the back window, watching Lucas race onto the street, before dropping his sword and collapsing to his knees, mouth agape in a wail of agony as the car drove away.
Judy was pressed up against the far side of the back seat, holding Dust's head as she looked over him. "Are you alright?" she asked, frowning when he nodded. "Just fine. We gotta get back. I got the drive."
"Oh, yeah, you're just peachy after all that," Nick said, eyes glued to the road. "A three story fall, gunshots, and I'm pretty sure there was blood on that sword. But yeah, sure, you're totally fine."
"What happened in there?" Judy looked down at Dust with concern. He gave a dry laugh.
"The guy's a light sleeper. Can't even step on some papers without having a gun aimed at me."
"I thought you said you could do this without getting caught? 'Don't worry. I've done this before. He won't catch me.'" Nick glanced at them from the rear view mirror.
A cough cut off the start of a response, Dust grabbing the mask around his muzzle and pulling it away. He scrunched his nose up at the smell of blood, Judy flicking on a light and letting out a gasp. "You're coughing up blood!"
"I'm fine," he insisted.
"You're bleeding all over your coat, you're not fine!" Judy sounded angry with him. Dust sat up, still clutching his side.
"I'm fine. Really. Just get us back to my place," he looked out the window as he spoke, feeling Judy's frustrated gaze burn into him. She opened her mouth, most likely to yell at him about taking care of himself. It was one of few conditions he had been given for doing this.
Don't, he thought. Just don't, Judy.
You're going to be upset with them for being concerned about you?
I told them not to, didn't I?
You know they won't listen.
As though reading his mind, the rabbit shut her mouth and climbed into the back seat. Nick gave her a concerned look as she crossed her arms and looked out the window.
The remainder of the drive was in silence, the only break being the sound of wind rushing past them as Dust cracked a window, the smell of blood bothering his nose. Multiple times, Judy made a noise, like she was going to speak, only to be stopped by a look from Nick.
Thanks for keeping her under control, Dust thought, looking at the other red fox, his eyes slowly falling shut as they drove. "Wake me when we get there," he muttered.