Clouded Judgment Ch 4
Hey guys, Legend here. I want to start out with an apology; I am way behind in posting. I have solved all of my Technology problems, but that took too long. Finals for school are next week, so I have been studying like crazy. I hope to have the next chapter out by Friday, but that might be pushing it too much. I have a lot planed for you guys!
Disclaimer: I do not own Zootopia or any of the characters in this fanfiction. All characters are property of Disney.
Z***Z
The distant winds brushing calmly through the trees of the mountains couldn't be heard for miles around. Silence rested in its own tranquility; bring tranquil peace to those who could hear its silent whisper.
The defining silence passed unnoticed to Judy as she sat watching the water fountain drip. The bottom of the drain pipe had a crack in it, a thin incision caused by years of erosion. Each drop calmed her; the soft plop of water into the puddle beneath, echoed her heart beat. The warm blood in her veins surged peacefully through her cold body. Calm had finally made its way into her mind. Her soul sat still and empty in the depths of thought. Minutes ticked by like hours, and still she sat in her chair.
Z***Z
She had met with a psychiatrist; his office was a small quiet place. It felt more like a home insisted of the cold doctor offices she was used to. The psychiatrist was a mole. His age clearly shown by his fur, glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. Thin frames circled the glass completely, the bars disappearing in the fur on the sides of his head. He moved about the room quickly, as though he was in the prime of his life. The mole was the most referred physician by the police force. He was a veteran; in his past he had served on the wild plans in the Wild Recovery Core (WRC). Their main mission is to integrate wild animals into society, which is understandably, a very dangerous job. His experience in the field allowed him to understand solders and wild animals. These experiences allowed him to understand the key symptoms of traumatized police officers.
His questions were the kind that would make one think, they were emotional and random, it was apparent he was extraction information on a deeper level, working the information out for himself so that the truth could not be distorted.
Through the intense questioning, Judy remained monotone. Her life seemed to have no meaning which made it easy for her to appear sane to the psychiatrist.
Through the process, the mole wrote many notes, much more than what she had told him. These notes were then delivered to Chief Bogo.
Z***Z
After being released from the hospital ward, she was taken to police department. The day was beautiful, but she had spent only a few minutes of it outside, the rest she had spent at her office desk. The desk adjacent to hers was empty. It used to be workspace of a sly vixen. An animal she had gotten to know very well. The desk still held his addicting aroma, the shadow of his presence. That vixen was a fox, Nick. He was her partner and so much more. It was by painful agony that she persisted to reside next to his desk. To forget Nick was to forget who she was. Nick was her everything, she had given him her all. Yet in return, he was only sweet to her, as she shot him in cold blood… blood that was not her own at the time. It was by this pain that she found resin to live.
After a week of desk work, Judy had recovered from the accident. She craved for action, her muscles ached for field work, but her mind shook in fear. The aspect of returning to the outside word unnerved her. But after all that had happened, she knew she had to get out, and get back to work or else she would never fully recover.
Z***Z
"Judy, I have called you here because we have received sensitive information regarding the murder of Officer Wild." Chief Bogo's voice boomed, snapping Judy's empty focus away from the puddle. Her gaze shot at him, the light gleamed in her eyes. Her gaze was dark and happy, almost borderline mischvious, sending chills down ones spine, breaching out and rooting the freeze to your core.
Shaking off the strange glance, he continued. "An anonymous source has come forward with detail about the drug. It appears that the drug's name is Cyclone and, as you know, it twists your thoughts and makes you question reality. Some people have reported cases of hallucinating people, events, and even changing who they think they are. But we don't know who created Cyclone. What we do know is how and where you were drugged. We approached the owner of the building and found he had rented it out to a Cheetah, Mr. Curtis White… He doesn't exist."
The chief's composer slowly faded. His tough military appearance dwindled to that of a broken father having to except a horrible truth. Reaching around the table, he dragged a chair to the front of the table and sat down to speak to Judy on the same level. "Judy, I hate to ask you this, but, I need you to go back to the hanger and search for evidence, anything that could give us a lead on finding who drugged you. If you don't want this task, then I will send in a group, but I wanted to give you the choice."
"Yes, I'll do it." Her reply was quick and eager, too eager. "And I don't want anybody with me, I want to do this alone." The added statement continued to damage her sweet appearance.
"Right then," his words were quick and rough, her replies caught him off guard. "Well, you know where the armory is. Take only what you need. We don't know what you will be walking into, so… bring an extra clip."
The last remark, his last words made her question her decided to take this job, the necessity to bring a gun was unwarranted. Judy's mind raced with questions. "Why bring a gun? What isn't he telling me? What is going on?"
She hopped out of her chair and made her way to the armory. The puddle of water had halted forming; the pipe stopped its relentless pursuit to drop water. Through the doors of the office room was a hall to the garage and the armory. The room looked foreboding, like a hospital's halls at night, the icy tiles of the floor shown with a dull shine, the floor looked like it had never been waxed. Breathing in the hallway was stuffy, oxygen refused to make its way into her lungs; its chill caused her to breathe sharply. Gray blue walls lined the hallway; the cool natural color only accented the chill of the room. Light sockets were fitted with white lightbulbs instead of the warm orange bulbs that would be used in a house. One light was shot out due to a misfire during gun safety with Nick. The first door on the right was the Armory, opposite that was the garage. The armory door was solid metal with a small barbed window at the top. The glass in the window had a hole the size of a 9 mm bullet, cracks webbed out from the epicenter.
Pushing passed the heavy door, Judy was flooded with warmth. The armory was set up to support basic needs for 2 weeks. It doubled as a temporary shelter. A heater was installed in the room along with a generator to power up any utility's they might need incase they had to barricade themselves inside and couldn't get to the backup generator. The backside of the door to the room had large silver bolts lining the frame work; three large bars taped with caution tap were propped against the wall and could be slid into groove lining the door. In the back of the room was a door similar to the first, but behind that door was a fully equipped bathroom. Cupboards lined the back wall along the heater and generator, inside of the cupboards were cans of food. The remaining side walls were lined with weapon racks and ammo containers, two columns of shelfs ran down the center of the room. The foundations of the shelfs were made of aluminum alloy, the backs of the shelfs were pure tungsten, 3 inches thick, rated at level 4, which could stop most rifle rounds. The center shelves held body armor of different brands and different levels. Underneath the body armor were cabinets full of replacement plates. Across from the body armor was the big guns. An RPG sat at the front of the racks, followed by a single .50 cal. Rifle. The rest of the wall was hung with different guns ranging from AK57's to Phimoses to Battle Rifles. Below the guns were drawers of ammo and mags that fit their respective guns. On the far left column were rows of smaller guns ranging from 22s with silencers to 9 mm, to revolvers equipped with 32 special to .50 cal. Receivers. An Uzi sat in the back of the row; it had been confiscated from a bust 30 years ago. Below each gun were its respective clip and its default ammo size. Mods lined the other side of the wall along with ammunition for a different receiver. Along the far right column were shotguns, riot shields, and helmets. Replacement visors sat beneath the helmets. Beaten and battered riot shields laid out for repair. There bottom half faded to black to hide the torso and legs of the officer. Shotgun shells lay out. Red, blue, and white shells were scattered on the floor, the white shell held bird shot, the red held buck shot, and the blue held rubber slugs; the fashion of the shells made it apparent that somebody grabbed some in a rush. On the opposing wall to the shotguns and shields sat an array of grenades. Frag grenades and flashbangs filled the majority of the wall; C4 had its own section, locked off by Chief Bogo. A variety of equipment was hung along the rest of the wall. The pieces were used to make custom bombs. Wires were strewn around, blast pins were piled together neatly, and excess chemicals were safely stored in locked cupboards. Most of the weapons were black, some had skins placed on them and others were chrome finished.
Judy breathed in deeply, the warm room felt like home. Oxygen could finally reach her lungs again; it revived her senses and allowed her to think clearly. Based off of what the chief told her, and off of what he didn't tell her, Judy decided she would walk the halls and pick out what she felt would be necessary.
She strolled the room like it was a shopping center. Her first aisle to go down was the center one. Her paws sweat with anticipation as she passed the .50 Cal, she had always craved to feel its power, "But that would have to wait for another day" she told herself. She turned around and gazed at the body armor.
"Alright, this isn't a big dangerous Opp, so a level 2 will suffice." She grabbed a small vest and removed a level 2 plate from the wall, inserting it into the vest, and putting the vest on. It fit smugly and was warm from being in the heated room for so long. Next, she walked down the shotgun aisle. The grenades seemed to call to her, begging to be let off, but she walked onward until she reached the pile of shells. Stooping down, she grabbed a white birdshot shell and placed it in her vest out of habit. "Oh Nick, you never could tell the difference in shells, but in your defense, their not all the same."
The riot shields glared at her, one particular one caught her attention. The plastic in the shield was heavily damaged, the top left corner was ripped off, and a hole sat in the center of the shield.
Z***Z
A week before the accident occurred, they were out on a raid. It was a standard night raid; Judy and Nick were assigned to bring in suspect. The intel suggested that he had been selling weapons illegally. Earlier that day, the police force had searched his house and found it clean of weapons. So Judy and Nick were instructed to make the arrest at his residence.
The house was in a secluded location, trees lined the street up to the house. The house itself looked like a shack; the walls looked like they could fall down any moment. Rotting wood held the porch up. Tin roofing sheets made up a large portion of the house, the other portion of the roof was covered on heavy porcelain tiles. The weight of the tiles could have knocked down the house on its own, making it obvious to them that the house was reinforced, and the shack look was just a cover up.
Together the approached the house. Judy was in a vest with a level 3 plate, she carried a modified 9mm pistol. The iron sites had been removed from the handgun, a flashlight was attached to the bottom rails and an acog site on the top rails. Nick, on the other hand, had a gut feeling that something was wrong. He approached in a level 3 bullet proof vest, a riot shield, and a revolver chambered in .50 cal.
Together they approached the dreary shack. Judy whispered to Nick. "Hey, I'm going around the back to check things out. Cover the front."
"Alright, I'll see if anyone is home." His voice unconcerned and carefree. Something that Judy admired about him.
As she disappeared around the corner of the house, Nick climbed the steps of the porch. Upon reaching the top, the door burst open in a hail of wood and metal. Shards of wood beat into Nick as bird shot weakly showered his body; wood dust sprayed his eyes, blinding him. The metal had lost too much power going through the door to do any real damage to him. Moments later, Nick had his shield up in front of him; he backed down one step of the porch and placed the bottom of the riot shield on the floor of the porch. Birdshot continued to shower his shield as he struggled to clear his vison of the saw dust.
The assailant continued his pursuit for the cop. Shell after shell spread from his shotgun. After 5 shots, the gun ran out of ammo. Nick cleared his vision and looked through the deformed and damaged plastic of his riot shield, his assailant was an ape, a cigar hung from his mouth, and an Uzi hung on his side. The ape had a pouch on his side, from which, he rapidly pulled shells out of too place in his gun. White shell after white shell was filled into his gun; the 6th shell was blue shell. Due to his training, Nick knew the whites were bird shot, and the blue was a rubber slug, the perfect chance to stop his enemy was when he fired that shot.
Bird shot continued its raining fury upon Nick as he stumbled forward. Each shot pushed him back, the power of the shotgun could strike fear into anyone's heart. The riot shield continued to stand against the relentless beating as cracks formed, upon the forth barrage of buck shot, a large crack appeared down the center of the shield. The fifth shot did little to expand the crack.
Here was his chance, the rubber slug was next. Nick closed the distance between the two of them to 3 feet, when the final shot rang out, Nick had lowered the riot shield slightly, the shot smashed into the top left corner of the shield, pushing him back, throwing him off balance. The corner was completely gone. Nick had judged wrong, the final shot was buck shot instead of the rubber slug, a note he would have to look at later.
Regaining his balance, Nick glared at the ape through his riot shield, the ape through down his gun and rushed toward Nick, without thinking, Nick ripped his revolver from his holster and fired. The .50 cal. bullet rammed through the darkened bottom side of the riot shield, the plastic was no match for a bullet that size. The shield was ripped from Nicks arm by the blow, dislocating his shoulder as it was thrusted toward the ape. The ape didn't stand a chance; he was dead before he knew it. The .50 cal. bullet cut through his strong chest muscles, shattered his ribs, ripped through his spinal cord, and tore out a vertebral from his spine. Shards of plastic then embedded themselves into his chest, followed by the riot shield that landed on his corps.
Smoke from the cigar lifted comely into the air from beneath the shield.
Judy spirited through the doorway of the shack, her handgun was drawn as she scanned the aria for other assailants. Once she was sure the aria was clear, she ran to Nick. Her hands moved softy to the injured places on his body, coming to rest on his shoulder. She ripped her hands together, extracting a large pop from Nicks shoulder fallowed by blood curdling shout and some choice language.
Z***Z
Lifting herself from the ground, her mind raced through those events. Her heart fluttered to her throat through the exciting memories. The fear of the unknown condition of Nick ached in her mind.
She continued down the hall with her disturbed thoughts, turning the corner, entering the far left row of weapons and mods. The black paint glared in the light from the ceiling. Each gun was nicely polished and repaired after each use in the field, scratches were scuffed off and a new layer of paint applied. Guns gathered dust from years of neglect.
Judy strutted over to a line of 10mm handguns. She picked one up, it was heaver then it looked. Checking the clip, she found that its previous user had forgotten to remove the ammunition after using it. She gently placed the clip in the drawer below the guns, and extracting an empty clip from the same drawer, inserting it with a click. She then pulled back on the slide, exposing the clip from the top of the gun. A bullet popped out of the receiver which Judy quickly snatched out of the air and placed on a box of ammo in the drawer.
The device was then placed back on the shelf, its power and accuracy wasn't something she had become accustom to yet. Continuing her stroll down the aisle, she came across a desert eagle chambered in .50 cal. She removed the awesome weapon from its rest. Holding the gun in both hands, she gazed down the sigh. The powerful devise had neon dot iron sites. She had become accustom to using this handgun after months of practice. It was too heavy for her to hold in one hand, but she was a crack shot with it. Her records showed she could hit a dime at 100 meters, but with the mods that are currently equipped, she wouldn't try to shoot past 50 meters. Gently placing the weapon back in its spot, she grabbed a black 9mm handgun.
As her fingers brushed against the weapon, she receded away. Memory's flooded her mind, the shadow of tears formed in her eyes. Remembering that day back in the ally, the reality of what she had done slapped her in the face. It struck her core with dread.
Reaching forward again, she grasped the weapon and glared at it. The steel was cold to the touch, even more present in the warm room. The smell of death hung in the air around her. The feeling of emptiness proceeded to invade her mind.
After acquiring 2 clips from the draw beneath the gun, she grabbed a box of 9mm hollow points, placing them on the counter behind her where she would equip mods to her gun. She removed a flashlight from the wall and placed it by her ammunition box. Scanning the wall for other useful mods, her eyes rested on the extended clips. Shaking the idea from her head, she got to work. The clips were light in her hand, they looked so harmless. She opened the box of ammo; the glint of light was cast in her eyes from the polished brass casings. Selecting a bullet from the case, she examined the odd shape of the bullet. As the name suggests, the point was removed, and looked like a mess of melted metal, with a dividing in the center. The removal of the point made the bullet useless against armor, but against flesh, the missing point would allow the bullet to catch the body and rip through instead of slide smoothly through. Hollow points were deadly shots to unarmored opponents.
After filling the clips, sliding on the flashlight attachment, and turning on the safety, she returned the opened box to the drawer, holstered her pistol, and left the warm room.
She didn't notice the cold air of the hallway as she walked across the way to the garage. Inside of the garage was a booth surrounded by bullet proof glass. Behind the glass was a jaguar, his black fur shined in the light. He was the key keeper, keeping sock of the keys and the vehicles. Whenever a vehicle had a problem, he was the guy to go to.
"Hey Jeg, I need bike." Judy's voice was full of cheer and excitement.
"Judy Judy Judy, you know you're not allowed to drive one, you still need to pass your test!" his voice full of laughter. Judy always tried to pull that stunt with him. "But, I can provide you a car. The Chief had me prepare one for you."
"Oh Thanks Jeg! You're the best." Judy snatched the keys from the counter where Jed had placed them.
The car was a small police car. It wasn't equipped to make arrests, only to patrol and survey the aria. Due to its nature, the car didn't need the police logo or any branding; instead, it was painted silver. The seats were the default leather seats that other police cars had, the dashboard was fully equipped to support laptops and other equipment, but the cameras, speed gun, and sirens were removed, giving the interior the faint image of a regular two seater car.
Judy sat in the seat and started the car; the engine roared to life, the engine of the car had been modified to chase down sports cars. The sound of this engine put their engines to shame.
Judy flashed a smug grin, the power beneath her hands shook her body, it begged to be unleashed to the wild world. The garage door rose at a snail's pace, taunting her as it went, teasing her, driving in the fact that it was the only thing in her way. As soon as the door was high enough, Judy gunned the engine, screaming out as she flew out of the garage.
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**Thanks for all your support guys! I look forward to the end, I'm very excited. Feel free to ask questions or comment you opinions. I enjoy the cretic. Thanks!**