Judy raced down the highway to the Bridgeway Super Pump Station. She could see it from the overpass; the visible building was smallish, consisting of little more than a reception area and a garage containing the machinery access hatch. Judy mused on the name, Arthur Bridgeway had been one of the city's founders, an ambitious aardvark with a deep and abiding love for all mammals, or at least that's what his biographers insisted on telling everyone. Judy herself was inclined to believe that anyone with a hospital, a park, a school, and a water pump station named after him couldn't have been all bad. It was one of the few sticking points she had with Nick, he's go on at length about how Zootopia had been founded on the idea that animals should work together towards a common goal, not the 'Anyone can be anything' slogan that had been bandied about in recent decades. He frequently asserted that her pursuit of a career in law enforcement would have appalled the Founding Five as a violation of the 'natural order'. Judy dismissed this out of hand, even if Nick wasn't just being adorably difficult, she still saw no reason to not afford the founders of the city some modicum of respect. Nick, of course, disagreed, often vehemently, and usually afterward he would figure out some roundabout way to appease her presumably affronted world-view. She would often play up how offended she was, as the lengths he went to indirectly apologize were incredibly endearing.

She wished that Nick were there beside her. She'd have someone to talk to about this case! The reason that she was here instead of being back at the precinct was one of the many things she wanted to talk to him about. She recalled an earlier conversation, about how the Bridgeway Super Pump was considered the beating heart of the city, or at the very least that's how the huge clunky thing was sold to the people of Zootopia. Elim, Grigori, and Finn would not stop now, not when that huge reward was within their grasp, and what better way to introduce a water-transmissible toxin than through the main pump?

The still-beating heart of the city on a platter.

Nick would have called her crazy and paranoid, but would invariably think better of it and offer his own input, usually something she'd never even considered. He'd say something like 'sometimes the easiest way to get into a place is through the front door' and detail why it was a legitimate, if gutsy, move from a criminal standpoint. At least, she hoped that's what Nick would say. She hoped this whole thing wasn't some wild roach chase, that she wasn't just choosing an appealing distraction. After all, what could be so uncomfortable that hunting terrorists was a preferable alternative?

"Oh, Nick…" She wrung the steering wheel and bit her lip. Deep down she feared that she was steering the relationship, that she was taking advantage of his confidence in her. She reluctantly admitted to herself that she reveled in his trust, that someone so adept at putting up walls tore them down so willingly for her, she couldn't help but get a little (huge) ego boost from it. But was that all it was? What if she was pushing things too far? What if she wasn't able to follow through? What if she let him down? What if she broke his heart? What if? What if? "…I wish you were here," she muttered to herself.

Just then, her phone rang. Judy looked over at the illuminated screen, on it was a picture of her and Nick after solving the Giant Roaches Case: he was running full bore from her, on her face was a huge laughing grin and in her outstretched arms was one of the massive mutant roach larva. The look of abject disgust and horror on Nick's face was priceless. So priceless that she had made it his official caller ID. She reached out on impulse to turn on the hands-free phone, but stopped.

'What does he want to talk about?' Judy thought, her internal monologue strangely frantic. 'What if he wants to talk about last night? What if he says he loves me and wants to move in? What if he proposes?!'

Despite not being a fan of this new 'what if' side of herself, (each of those scenarios were patently ridiculous) Judy couldn't bring herself to answer the phone, a cold inexplicable dread clutched her insides and made her hesitate. The ringtone, a snippet of a song she'd since forgotten and now thoroughly regretted sampling, continued on, somehow growing more and more urgent.

"No," she said aloud, pulling her hand back. "Gotta focus on the case. Can't get distracted."

The call went to her voicemail.

The muted roar of water permeated the entire room, from vibrations that could be felt through the concrete to a dull heady thunder that rattled one's bones, the awesome power of the super-pump could not be denied by anyone in its presence. Some fifty feet below the control station almost six hundred thousand gallons of water roared through the mains every second, and even through the heavy steel and concrete pipes the turmoil of the raging water could be heard like distant thunder.

Beck huddled in the corner, her legs pulled tightly against her chest, across from her was the ferret, watching her. He'd been watching her for at least five minutes now, a small eternity for Beck. Long past his earlier case of the jitters he was now pert and perky…and bored. They were waiting for the go ahead to do whatever it was they were here to do. Every so often she'd glance over at him and he'd be smiling at her, a hungry leer in his eyes. Her eyes flicked over to the ferret once more, he noticed and smirked, slowly getting to his feet as he did.

"But we put cell-jammers everywhere around the building," Grigori said from over by the security console. "How is Boss going to contact us?"

Elim produced a big, blocky-looking phone with a large rubberized antenna. "Satellite phone with a signal booster. It'll get through all the AM/FM static we're putting out, too. No one in here is talking to anyone out there but us, at least not until it's way too late."

Finn padded over to her, careful not to alert the others, and plopped down in front of her, sitting cross-legged. "Hi!"

Beck gaped in confusion, before tersely answering. "Hi."

"I don't think we've been properly introduced," Finn said, holding out his hand. "My name's Finnegan, Finnegan McNulty! My friends call me Finn."

"Yeah?" she said cautiously. "Uh, nice name."

"Thank you!" Finn chirped, his smile friendly and warm. "I just wanted to let you know, that whole business with your coworkers wasn't personal."

Beck cast a quick glance at his outstretched hand, making a point to jostle the net restraining her. "Neither is me leaving you hanging, there."

"Ah! I get it!" Finn chuckled and dropped his hand. "That's funny. You're funny. I like you!"

A moment passed as she examined the creature before her. He was about standard size for a ferret, albeit noticeably muscular, and as cute and endearing as any ferret she'd seen before, but there was something about him, something low and wrong that filled her with dread. Unlike his canny gnu boss or hulking lynx cohort, Finnegan capered about as though the job was of secondary concern, as though the sheer joy of the work was an end in itself. Finnegan was having a blast, or rather, had a blast. She could see him getting fidgety, getting bored, and knew, somehow, that he'd be looking her way for entertainment, one way or another.

"He had children you know," she said flintily. "Solomon, the buffalo you mutilated. Four calves and a wife, four orphans and a widow."

Finn rolled his eyes; the depth of indifference on his face was chilling. "Hey, I didn't kill him. Besides, a few hours from now and a dead dad will be the least of their worries!"

"What do you mean?" Beck said, looking over at the gnu and lynx as they fiddled with the security console. "What are you going to do?"

"We're part of a radical group of dentists," Elim said from over his shoulder. "Zootopia will fluoridate its tapwater or else!"

A round of mocking laughter ensued; Finn slapped his knee and turned back to her. "Eh-heh! Nah…without getting into all the nitty gritty, we're dumping Nighthowler into the water to make eeeeeeeveryone in the city go waffles! Eighty million people tearing each other apart, it's gonna be a meat-grinder out there!"

Beck's mouth hung open, she instinctively strained against the unyielding coils of the net. "Why?!"

"Meh." Finn shrugged. "Internet was down, the TV's broke, and we really hate scrabble!"

"Are you going to kill me?" she asked, on impulse. Terror gripped her as she irrationally scolded herself for giving them the idea, as if they had been planning to just turn her loose before. She recovered before much of the fear could show in her face; only then did she notice Finn's total non-reaction to the sudden question.

"Oh, certainly!" Finn said, casually, as though she had merely asked him the time. "Wait, were you asking if you're going to die in general, or that I personally will be killing you?"

"L-listen–" she began to say, smiling what she hoped was a friendly smile.

The ferret lunged forward, clambering up her chest and staring her in the eyes, his grin wide and pointy and suddenly a lot less friendly, his white teeth glittering in the floodlights of the main room. "Because the answer is yes."

Beck flinched back, her ears going flat. "Please…"

"Finn!" Elim barked. "Back off! You'll have time for that after we're done!"

"But Elim!" Finn whined, hopping down off the trembling hyena. "We've been waiting forever!"

"Ten minutes," Grigori said, unimpressed.

"I'm bored!" Finn turned back to Beck. "Just a little bite?"

Elim walked over and shooed Finn away with his foot. "No! Shoo! Git! If you get wound up now, you'll be all distracted and weird when I need you to be focused! If you want something to do, go turn on the maintenance elevator and bring the truck down, Gori and I will get things ready over here. The more we do now, the sooner we're done, the sooner you get to play, understand?"

Finn sighed and nodded, shooting Beck a glance and a grin before scampering out of the room. Elim shook his head and shuffled back to the security console, smiling unpleasantly. "Like herding crickets, I swear! Lady, I don't envy you in a few hours. Finn's a little…completely insane."

"Doesn't know much about hyenas, does he?" Beck said, snarling. "The little shit's in for a surprise!"

Elim snorted and waved his hand dismissively. "Naw! Nothing like that! Even Finn has standards. No, he's just going to chew on you for…as long as you last, I guess. And a big gal like you? Heh! Hours, at least."

Beck slumped against the wall, looking away from the mocking sneers of her captors. She futilely tested her bindings, knowing full well that the only way she would be free of them was when the gnu tapped the sensor on the muzzle to the little black module at the center of the net. A wave of helplessness washed over her, a foreign and decidedly unwelcomed sensation. All she could do was wait for them to let the ferret at her. She turned to look at the railing, wondering if she could get on her feet and to it fast enough to dive over the side before they could–NO! She was alive, and so long as she was alive, there was a chance! The lives of millions hung in the balance and she wasn't about to sit back and let these psychopaths destroy her home! But how to stop them?

Beck looked over at the two, they were still chatting amongst themselves in front of the primary intake valve, a vital apparatus for introducing carefully measured amounts of chemicals into the water. On the console table was the gun, it was too close to the gnu for her to rush them, and even if she did get free, Beck doubted if she would survive a fight with the lynx, much less win. She recalled the can of pepper-spray on her hip, held fast under the netting. Without drawing attention, she began to wriggle and jostle the can closer to her hands.

"So," Grigori said. "You think the bunny will show up?"

Elim snorted. "I still don't buy that she's the one that smoked us out. If we see anyone, it's Wilde, I guarantee!"

"That sounds like a bet," Grigori said, smirking. "You in?"

Elim sighed and rolled his eyes. "Tell you what, if the rabbit shows up and fucks everything sideways and we get arrested, I owe you a Coke."

"Deal." Grigori nodded, offering his hand.

"A proper one, too," Elim said, taking his hand in a firm grip and shaking it. "Not one of those itty-bitty cans."

The clatter of metal drew their attention as a little black can rolled on the floor between them. Immediately it began to hiss and spin, belching clouds of orange mist in all directions, both Elim and Grigori knew pepper spray when they saw it and leapt back, their mouths covered and eyes screwed shut.

"Ack!" Elim coughed. "Dammit! It's that hyena!"

Beck shot to her feet and lunged forward in a mad dash, ramming into the console with a grunt. By chance, the muzzle tapped against the module and the net went slack, Beck laughed aloud and shook the limp mass of fibers off, sending it tumbling to the ground. A chill up her spine caused her to spin around, the lynx was streaking towards her, his footfalls alarmingly quiet. He leapt forward, his arms outstretched. Beck reached up and grabbed his loose flapping sleeves and yanked down, swinging herself underneath him as he flew through the air. He managed to tuck and roll in time for his muscular back to crash into the console, winding him as he tumbled to the floor. Beck made a beeline for the door, Elim stood in her way, coughing as he tried to clear the air in front of him. She grinned and braced herself, swinging out and crosschecking the stunned gnu with all the force she could muster before ducking out the door. He grunted as the force of the blow sent him hurtling through the air to smash painfully into the handrail. The tall gnu cried in alarm as he began to teeter over the low bar, this whole inner security station was clearly meant for mammals much shorter than himself.

"Fuck!" Elim shouted as he felt himself losing his balance. "fuckfuckfuck!"

A powerful hand grabbed his wrist and yanked his two-hundred-and-twenty pounds forward like a bag of feathers. Grigori galloped forward, dragging the much taller gnu behind him without any discernible effort. The two skidded out the door in time to see the hyena take off down the hall. Finn came racing towards her from the other end of the hall, his teeth bared.

"I leave for two minutes and look what happens!" Finn snarled as he streaked towards the fleeing hyena.

Beck grinned and wound back her leg, her powerful muscles bunching, and loosed a fast, ferociously powerful kick at the ferret. With contemptuous ease, the sleek-bodied mammal weaved out of the way, bending down and arching his back to snag her foot. Beck let out a cry as she lurched forward, thinking quickly she let her momentum carry her through the air, diving forward and tucking into a roll. She rolled head over foot before springing to her feet once again, scrambling down an adjoining hallway.

Grigori and Finn took off after her when Elim called out. "Hold it! This is what she wants, the bitch's distracting us from the job!"

"But–!" Grigori started to say before Elim cut him off.

"Finn!" Elim barked. "After her! Kill her! Tear her apart! Whatever! Just make sure she doesn't leave this building!"

"Aye-aye Cap'n!" Finn chirped, scampering up the wall and into a vent.

"Gori!" Elim stormed down the hall. "With me. We're unloading the catalyst and getting it ready. I want us to be able to dump it if we get cornered!"

"What if she pulls a fire alarm or something?" Grigori said, following.

"Let her," Elim sneered, stopping in front of the grated metal door of the heavy machinery access elevator, letting it clatter as he flung it open. "Richie's program has completely shut this place down, not a bit of data is getting in or out, that means no alarms, no bells, no nothing! Now, c'mon, this whole thing's starting to give me a rash, let's get into position. Don't want to be caught with my pants down again…"

Nick tapped his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently; the phone rang again and again, he could practically hear Judy's obnoxious ringtone, Peanut Butter Jelly by Galantis, as it droned on and on. He hissed a curse under his breath when her happy, tinkling voice chirped over the speaker in a pre-recorded message.

"Hello! You have reached the mailbox of Judy Laverne Hopps. I'm probably doing cop stuff at the moment, so please leave a name and number at the beep!"

"Dammit Carrots!" Nick said, hanging up. He gripped the steering wheel hard enough to crease the pleather. He stopped at a red light in front of the Bridgeway Memorial Hospital and dialed again, gritting his teeth. "C'mon, c'mon!"

This time there was no droning ringtone; the line clicked and went straight to voicemail. "Hello! You have reached the mailbox of Judy Laverne Hopps. I'm probably doing cop stuff at the moment, so please leave a name and number at the beep!"

"Dammit!" he said, signaling and turning into the hospital parking lot. 'Did she turn off her phone? Does she not want to talk to me?'

'You took it too far, Nick,' Slick Nick said, unendingly smug. 'You tore down the walls and let her in and guess what happened? Judy saw the wreck you really are and turned tail and ran! Just like I knew she would. I mean, you can't really blame her, can you? What sane mammal would want your problems dumped on their lives? It'd be better to just back off a bit, put some distance between you two, maybe cool it with the nicknames and banter, that stuff only leads to trouble.'

Nick parked the car and sighed. 'Honestly, Slick, I'm a little more concerned about the psycho-drug those lunatics were going to dump in the water! I know their type, and they're not done yet! I need to find Carrots and to talk to Richie, maybe figure out where they are and stop them before they try again!'

'Find Judy?' Slick said, 'If she didn't want you phoning her, what makes you think she'll want to–'

'–Do her job?' Nick cut himself off. 'This is Carrots we're talking about; if I have a lead she'll be all ears. Also, I'm done arguing with myself! I've got enough on my plate without adding a split-personality to the mix!'

Nick got out of the cruiser and shook his anxiety off; it was time to get into character. He walked through the doors of the hospital and up to the reception desk, his best smile plastered on his face as he approached the receptionist.

"Angie, looking good as ever! How's your morning going so far?" he said, charmingly.

The young oryx looked up and smiled bashfully. "Oh! Detective Wilde! It's going fine, thank you! You're partner was in here earlier, actually. You know, I actually didn't connect the dots when she came in last night with the criminal. I thought she was with him, you know? Imagine my surprise this morning!"

"Nope, that's the one and only Judy Hopps," he replied, leaning in. "Say, you wouldn't happen to know if she's still here, would you?"

Angie leaned in, speaking in a low, conspiratorial voice. "Oh, no. She was only up there for a little while before she came right back out again. She was in a hurry, too, like she was following a lead. Was she?"

Nick wasn't the least bit surprised. "Oh, probably. She didn't say anything to you about where she was going did she?"

"No, sir! She was in and out like that!" Angie said, snapping her fingers. "She looked really serious, too! Like she just remembered something important."

"Would it be possible for me to speak with the patient in room 232?" said Nick, hoping that his urgency wasn't showing in his voice. "Maybe she told him something?"

Angie shook her head gravely. "I'm sorry, Detective, but that patient is currently undergoing examination. You'll have to come back later."

Nick thumped his fist against the desk in frustration; he shot Angie a charming smile and winked. "Hey, thanks for your help, anyway. You have a great day!"

Angie blushed and smiled back.

Nick ducked back into the cruiser with a frustrated sigh. "Dammit!"

Ever since Greg had told him what was in the water, Nick had been feeling increasingly on edge, as though despite all their efforts the danger was still present. Nothing about how these guys operated suggested that they would be seriously hampered by something as simple as a near miss. He reluctantly turned back to that other side of himself, the smooth, amoral person he used to be. He'd seen countless crooks, criminals, and killers in his time working for and around Mr. Big's organization, enough so that he'd developed a sixth sense of sorts when it came to sniffing them out. If he could piece together their goals, their raison d'etre, he could piece together how they thought, and what he'd pieced together for those three sent shivers down his spine. What he pieced together brought back certain memories of his past.

Back in the day he'd heard tell of a quartet of international ne'er-do-wells, a team with no real name outside of their list of atrocities. Any job, be it theft, terrorism, kidnapping, assassination, hacking, or anything else under the sun, they would do it, no matter what. A few years back, while Nick had been taking measurements of Mr. Big's living room for a certain wall rug, he had overheard him talking to one of his mountainous polar bear henchmen.

'If Dewclaw is getting bold enough to muscle in on your territory, maybe it's time to take him out once and for all, him and all his people,' the polar bear rumbled in his thick Tundran accent, before adding, hesitantly 'Sir, I know of some people who know of some other people who have a number. If this number is called it will go directly to voicemail. Exactly ten seconds after the beep, describe what you need done in ten words or less and leave a number. Then they will call you back, but only once. Explain what you need done in less than five minutes and they will tell you the cost. Then it will be done.'

'I am aware of these mammals of which you speak, Vladislaus,' Mr. Big had replied. 'I am duly impressed that you know of them, too.'

Vladislaus had bowed appreciatively; impressing Mr. Big was no mean feat. 'Sir, it would please you to know that the people who know the people who know the number also owe you a significant amount of money. In fact, they are well overdue and are marked down for a 'payment reminder'. Say the word, and Vladislaus will bring you this number. It will in and of itself be a valuable piece of knowledge for you.'

'Thank you, Vladislaus,' Mr. Big had said, shaking his head. 'That will not be necessary. I have no need of the Four Faces of Death.'

Nick recalled being shocked at the way stone-faced Vladislaus flinched at the moniker; it must have been appropriate. 'But sir, war with Dewclaw would be devastating!'

'Not half so much as asking them to wage our war for us,' Mr. Big rapped his knuckles against the arm of his chair. 'I would not burn down a kingdom to rule the ashes.'

Nick had been on the fence about it before, but it was obvious to him now, a rare breed of outlaw was in town. An especially dangerous and dedicated bunch that valued reputation, that once the price had been agreed upon and the contract finalized no force on earth could stop them from carrying out their mission. And they were loose in Zootopia and its destruction their goal.

Nick growled and punched the dashboard. His city, his friends, his whole family were all in danger and here he was, useless! He couldn't even find his own partner, much less a cabal of terrorists! He sighed and smacked his forehead against the steering wheel. 'I wish Carrots was here, she'd figure this out…she'd have one of her flashes and get this thing sorted out in no time. God, I'm worthless without her!'

'Ha!' Slick said, bitter and triumphant. 'Imagine her surprise when she found out just how insecure you really are! It was probably like cracking a safe only to find a busted screen door in the back!'

A spark.

"Wait," Nick muttered to himself, his eyes growing wide. "An insecure…backdoor."

A flash.

"Oh my God! Maxbell Security!" Nick exclaimed, opening the door and rushing out, streaking across the parking lot and back into the hospital. "Richie!"

"Oh! Detective Wilde!" Angie said, surprised. "Did you forget–?"

"The patient!" Nick interrupted. "Where is he right now?"

"I'm afraid I can't divulge that infor–" Angie began to say before Nick's glare caused the words to die in her mouth. "Uh…r-room 123. May I ask what's going on?"

"Why not?" Nick muttered as he took off down the hall.

Doctor Tsume shined a light in Richie's remaining eye, noting the pupillary dilation. "Well, the one eye is completely healthy, Mr. Richardson."

"You don't say?" Richie said, snidely. "I guess that's why they pay you the big doctor bucks, huh?"

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit," Doctor Tsume muttered, annoyed, as he put the light away and prepped the nerve testers.

"But the highest form of intelligence," Richie retorted. "See? I can dubiously quote Oscar Wilde, too!"

Nick burst into the room, flashing his badge. "Detective Nicholas Wilde ZPD!"

Doctor Tsume languidly looked up, exchanged a curious look with his patient, and said. "Yes, Detective, I know who you are. We met yesterday, if you–"

"Out," Nick barked. "I need to talk with the witness."

Doctor Tsume smirked and walked over to Nick. "I'm afraid you're in no position to make demands. I am this mammal's doctor and if I say he's in the middle of a post-surgical examination and cannot be disturbed, then I'm afraid that you'll have to wait."

"Yeah?" Nick said, pulling back his jacket, his badge glinting gold in the fluorescent light. "Well, this little number here says 'get the hell out of the room'."

Tsume crossed his arms and chuckled. "If you think that badge of yours authorizes you to circumvent my authority on hospital grounds, then you're sorely mistaken, Detective!"

"Eyes south, Doc," Nick sneered, gesturing at the gun holstered under his arm.

Doctor Tsume's eyes widened in shock as he warily crept towards the door. "I-I'm going to call security!"

"Yeah, you do that," Nick grumbled, handing his phone to Richie. "This won't take long, will it?"

Richie looked down at the phone and smiled despite the pain it caused his face; on the smartphone was the coded itinerary of Maxbell Security Incorporated, his prior access code had long since been rescinded. "Two shakes of a lambs tail, Detective. What's the matter, your warrant expire?"

Nick nodded curtly. "Play your 'world-renowned hacker' shtick and see if the Bridgeway Super Pump Station uses a Maxbell system for its security."

Richie smiled and set to work with the phone, the basic coding of the security company's website was child's play to his skilled fingers, even one-handed on a smartphone. "Is that all? One…two…three! Bam, there it is! Oh, yeah, hey! I remember seeing the Bridge on the same list as the other places we hit up. If anything, I figured that plan B would probably involve the place in some way. The beating heart of the city, eh?"

Nick blinked at the familiar phrase. "What?"

Richie shrugged. "Just something that Judy said…what?"

Nick spun on his heels and bolted out the door. "Dammit Carrots!"

Beck panted noisily as she ducked into another of the complexes endless hallways. She ducked around a corner and leaned against the wall, holding her breath to listen for following footsteps. Beck looked around, scanning the hallway for any clues as to where she was. She saw some signage indicating an emergency staircase. When she was certain she heard no footsteps following her, she let out her breath in a joyous sigh of relief as she deflated and sagged against the wall. The adrenaline rush was wearing off; she knew that if she didn't keep moving she'd start getting the shakes. She quietly made her way down the hall, her mind buzzing.

'Okay! Okay! You got away and they're not following you…for some reason. Whatever! You gotta contact someone, you gotta tell the cops! The army! Hell, anyone! But how?' Beck looked over at the opposite wall, seeing a small red panel with a covered latch: a fire alarm. She rolled her eyes and slapped her forehead. "Heh! Durrr!"

She pulled the lever and braced herself for the shrill cry of the siren.

Nothing.

She reset the level and pulled it again, and again nothing happened.

"No!" Beck ran her hands through her fur and breathed deep. "Keep calm…the alarms in the upper levels are on a different system…maybe they'll work?"

She ducked into the emergency staircase and galloped up the steps, paying no heed to the burning in her legs. Half way up the stairs she paused for a moment and thanked herself for not skipping leg day. Several agonizing minutes later and she shouldered her way through the door, knocking it off its hinges. Panting, she looked around desperately, searching for a fire alarm. She found one on the far wall beneath a ventilation shaft and pulled it.

Again, silence.

"Shit!" Beck snarled, slamming her fist against the wall. "Gimme a break!"

A bright flash drew her attention, above the silent siren was a single high-powered alarm light, blinking rapidly in accordance with an absent siren.

"Better than nothing, I guess," said Beck, sarcastically.

Beck looked around to get her bearings; she noted the familiar looking pipes and the placement of the fire extinguisher and deduced that she was a short run away from an emergency exit. She set off down the hall when something in the ventilation shaft caught her eye; two shiny little surfaces glinted as the alarm light flashed.

Eyes.

"Hi," said a familiar, chipper voice.

Judy pulled up to the Bridgeway building and stepped out of her car, already she was feeling the hot day's sun prickling on her back, heating up her jacket and fur. Today was going to be a long, hot day and no mistake. She walked up to the front door and gave the handle a tug; it was locked. She peered in through the tall windows that stretched from the ground to the ceiling, unable to see anyone behind the security desk. She gave the glass door a few curt knocks. Judy waited what she felt was an appropriate amount of time before cupping her eye to the glass once more to check if anyone had noticed. No one had.

'Nope…this is no good. Either the security for our water supply is totally incompetent or something is up!' Judy peered in once more, unease tensing in her belly like a coiling spring. 'I just need to tell security who to keep an eye out for. If my hunch is right, then they're coming here next!'

Judy rattled the door again, knocking impatiently when a light began to flash in the upper corner of the room. Judy's ears perked up, even if the glass was soundproofed, her sensitive ears would pick up the distinctive cry of the alarm, but she heard nothing. Judy waited another minute for someone, anyone, to show up, but no one came.

'That's it, I'm calling for back up.' Judy pulled out her radio and pressed the call button. "Dispatch, this is Detective Hopps, requesting a squad car at the Bridgeway Super Pump Station, we have suspicious activity here. Over." She waited for the lilting, cheerful response. None came. "Dispatch? Dispatch, do you read? Over. …Clawhauser?"

Judy pulled out her cell phone and dialed 911, only to realize that she had no bars. She swallowed thickly, looking over at the deserted foyer, the flash of the fire alarm cast the features of the room in a harsh aspect for moments at a time, adding to the surreal feel of the situation.

Judy looked over at the security desk and gasped in horror. There, weakly crawling on the floor was a blood-drenched civet, one dripping hand clasped to his throat as he slowly dragged himself across the floor with the other, he looked up at her, shakily raising his hand to point at the open door before collapsing. Judy looked back down at her phone, still no bars, and her radio was worthless. She looked up, the civet was now still. Judy reached into her jacket pocket, pulled out a broken piece of sparkplug and hurled it through the tempered glass window. With a popping crack, countless shining fissures spidered across the glass, an instant later and it crumbled into a glittering pile of tiny square shards. Nick had taught her that trick.

She rushed over to the prone body and called out. "Sir? Sir? Stay with me! Can you tell me what happened to you?"

When there was no response Judy leaned in a checked his vitals, sighing in despair when she found none; he had used his last ounce of strength to get her attention. "Thank you..."

She examined his wounds and came across a very familiar set of bite marks; no doubt about it, they were here and they weren't playing around.

'Get in your car, Judy,' she told herself. 'Get in your car and get to a payphone, commandeer a cell phone, go get back up at the precinct if you have to. Don't go in by yourself.'

"But if they're in there..." she whispered, clenching her fist. "By the time backup gets here…"

'Maybe,' she replied. 'But maybe not. They might take hours! Go get help!'

'Or they might be dumping the stuff in the water right now!' On-Duty Judy snapped at the hesitant voice. 'I have to go. If I go now, I might be able to stop them! I can't risk all of Zootopia for my own safety!'

'You can't go!' the other Judy said, screaming and panicked. 'HE'S in there!'

Judy paused, her heart thundering in her chest as her nose twitched rapidly. She looked at her hand, clenching and unclenching her fist, and was shocked to see that it was shaking. She was scared. No, she was terrified. How long would she wander those dark halls before he would pounce on her from some dark corner with glinting eyes and flashing, tearing fangs? Could she fight him off? Could he be fought off? He was so fast, faster than her, and stronger too, like a long coil of solid muscle with teeth. Worse yet, he was skilled, a trained and practiced killer; someone who fought and killed the same way normal people pursued hobbies.

'And he won't just kill you!' the scared little bunny mewled. 'He'll hold you down and-and do things to you! Run, Judy! Run away and get help! Run before he gets you run run run runrunrunrunrun'

"Let. Him. Try!" Judy growled, pulling out her MSIM. 'No one else dies because of my cowardice! If Finn thinks he can scare me, then let him think that right up until I grind him into the dirt! If I'm all there is, then that's more than enough to deal with these savages!'

'I'm going to die,' the scared bunny moaned pitifully.

"No…" Judy told herself. "Nick's on his way. I know he is."

She strode towards the open door and curled her nose at the smell wafting out of it, it was thick and cloying, metallic; it was the stench of blood. Judy propped herself up against the wall and let out a shuddering sigh, neatly and determinedly folding the horror up like a parcel and filing it away for a later conniption. Now was not the time. She quickly and quietly entered the adjoining hall, the blood-stink was even worse in the enclosed space. Her mind ran smoothly like a clock, noting that they likely disabled the security system much like they had at all the other break-ins, and that by that logic the building must use a Maxbell system. Judy noted with sour amusement that Maxbell Security had lost her as a potential customer.

She approached another half-open door and slowed her pace, readying her sidearm as her ears flicked back and forth in search of danger. She pressed her back against the wall and jumped into the doorway. Once again, she was assaulted by the stench of blood and sure enough a new pile of fresh bodies awaited her on the floor. Judy noted the grotesque angle at which the buffalo's eyeless head was set and deduced that Grigori was no-one she wanted to tangle with, not that there was any shortage of evidence supporting that opinion. What struck her about the room was the harsh chemical smell in the air, it was acrid and familiar: the pusher charge of a zap-net canister.

A hostage?

A chew-toy?

Both?

Judy paid her respects to the dead and hurried out the room and down the hall. She soon came upon another hallway, she sniffed the air for any scent trail, noticing the low earthy smell of bovid and a dry, hay-like scent that she assumed was lynx. She turned her head down the other and sniffed, her brow creasing as she detected an unmistakable musky odor: ferret, and it was fresh. She followed the scent down the hall, her heart thundering in her chest, when she came upon a door knocked nearly off its hinges, the sign above it indicated an emergency stairway.

"Alright," Judy said, steeling herself. "Down we go."

Elim poured another canister of catalyst into the intake valve, carefully watching the capacity meter rise; he didn't want to spill any of this stuff. He looked up at the larger expanse of the room, the four tremendous main pipes leading into the primary pump, six fusion-powered, carbon nanotube strengthened screws spun eternally, shunting the water to where it needed to be. The facility was entirely automated, its power source inexhaustible, and the primary mechanisms were nigh-unassailable; no matter what happened, the people of Zootopia would always have running water. Elim smirked, tickled by the irony that the disaster-proof system the Zootopians had set up would ultimately be their downfall. Long after every throat was ripped out and every last drop of blood was spilled, the pump would still carry on, the fountains would still carry on their ornate displays, as would the sprinklers and mist-machines in the Rainforest District; a thousand years later people would find the ruins of the city complete with running water!

Elim turned around as he heard the door open. "Got the last of the stuff Gori?"

"No," a female voice replied. "But I have something even better!"

"Awwww…" Elim hissed as he turned around slowly to see a bunny standing in the doorway, a familiar looking gun in her paws. "…Shiiiit! You just cost me a Coke, lady!"

"Down on the ground!" she commanded. "Now, creep!"

Elim did not move to lie down, smiling mockingly. "On what charges, officer?"

"What charges?!" Her eyes blazed, Elim saw with dawning realization that she wasn't going to back down. "Breaking and entering! Murder! Terrorism! Attempted mass-murder! And aiding and abetting a known felon! That's just to name a few!"

Elim blinked in surprise, hearing it all laid out like that he was beginning to see why Richie might have had a problem with this job. He rallied and chuckled. "Oh man…I literally can't believe I get to use this line again!"

"What?!" Judy exclaimed. "What are you–?!"

"Aiding and abetting known felons," Elim said triumphantly, looking up and over her shoulder. "Plural."

Judy blinked and ducked and rolled away from the door and the implied sneaking assailant. Her eyes darted over to the doorway for a split second, and saw that it was completely empty. She cursed under her breath and trained her sights on Elim once more; he had taken the split second to draw his stolen weapon and take aim.

"A bit of a bandito standoff, eh?" Elim said, lining up the sights of the gun.

"Not really," she said, flatly. "You're out."

Elim hoped he looked as confident as he sounded. "How do you figure?"

"That's Detective Wilde's sidearm. He used one net to destroy your computer, and you used one to take your hostage."

"That's–" Elim began to say before she cut him off.

"And you wouldn't trust a big part of your plan to a weapon you weren't familiar with. You practiced, squeezed off a round to see what it does. The nets are pretty cool, huh? What will they think of next?"

"That's…" Elim said, willing himself to not panic. "…A neat theory. Care to test it?"

"Sure I do," Judy said, smirking humorlessly. "I'm the one with a full clip, remember?"

Elim swallowed nervously, eying up the switch on the side of the gun, if he could flick it without her noticing, maybe he could distract her with a pepper pellet. His train of thought was derailed when she spoke again. "Don't try it. The pellet launcher takes a second or so to charge up, I'll have you netted and zapped before you can pull the trigger. Now, put it down on the ground and get your hands in the air."

Elim sighed in disgust and complied, placing the gun on the ground and raising his hands.

"Kick it away," she commanded. "And get down on the ground!"

Again, he complied, scowling at her as he knelt down, his belly on the ground. The rabbit smiled and darted over, pulling his over and behind his back. "Elim Boakye, you are under arrest! You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law."

"A naked Gazelle," Elim quipped.

"Funny guy, huh?" Judy sneered.

"Oh, I'm hilarious." Elim craned his head back and smiled unpleasantly. "Aren't I, Gori?"

Judy scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You think I'd fall for that again?"

Her ear twitched as a low whistling sounded off to her right. "Oh, sca–"

Judy braced and rolled off the gnu as a massive paw swiped down at her. She managed to duck her head out of the way, but his huge fingers connected with her shoulders and ribs, knocking the air from her lungs and sent her hurtling across the room and her gun clattering on the concrete. Judy grunted in pain as she bounced off the hand railing and crumpled on the ground.

"You owe me a Coke," Grigori grumbled, lifting his friend off the floor.

"Kill the rabbit, dammit!" Elim said, impatiently.

Judy groaned and got to her feet, she'd managed to roll with the impact as much as possible, but her ribs still screamed at her with every breath: severe bruising, if not a hairline fracture. She looked up to see the huge lynx walking towards her, his footfalls eerily silent. Judy cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders, shaking out her hands; she'd taken down bigger mammals than him. She darted forward, hopping with both feet to build up momentum, after three fast, powerful jumps she launched herself at him, rolling in midair and kicking out with her powerful legs. With a satisfying impact she drove her feet into his abdomen, the sensation was not unlike kicking a concrete pillar, but the result was a pained grunt as the burly lynx staggered back. Judy pushed off and sailed through the air, jumping from hand railing to wall to ceiling, building up speed for another kick. With both feet planted firmly on the ceiling, she propelled herself down at her winded target, feet outstretched for another devastating kick. Moments before she made contact, Grigori arched his head back and out of the way. As Judy sped past him she saw his neck tense as a grin spread across his face. His hard skull swung forward and caught her in the midsection, swatting her down to the ground; Judy bounced off the concrete and into the air where Grigori dealt her a lightning fast swat that sent her skidding along the floor. Judy coughed painfully and shook her head, looking up at the advancing lynx.

"Ow…" Grigori rumbled, smirking. "That actually hurt. Ha! I like you, bunny. I'll kill you quickly, no pain."

Judy rolled her eyes and streaked towards him. Grigori growly and swung at her, she sidestepped the powerful strike and grabbed onto his loose, flapping sleeve. She swung her legs forward and planted a hard, two-footed kick on the pink triangle of his nose. He grunted and reeled, eyes watering from the blow to his sensitive snout; Judy used the momentum from her kick to swing up and over his arm, twisting the fabric tightly around his forearm for better leverage. With another, stronger swing she came down and kicked the sweet spot on his right side, shocking his liver with a powerful impact. Grigori grunted and dropped to one knee, wheezing. Judy swung his limp arm up and behind his back, kicking the nape of his neck as hard as she could, the mighty lynx toppled forward and onto the ground.

A moment later and Judy stood atop his back, barring his arm and smiling triumphantly. "That's real sweet of you, Mr. Yevgenyevich, but the ZPD has a really fat retirement plan, so I'm gonna have to pass on that whole 'dying' thing."

There was a sound like a thunderclap behind her and a moment later a huge mass of clinging fabric enveloped her body like a blanket. Judy grunted as she was thrown off Grigori's back, she struggled uselessly as the fibers coiled all around her, setting and becoming like steel cable. Judy stared up, wide-eyed, as the two murderers towered over her.

Elim smiled widely and laughed, waving her sidearm about in his hand. "I think you dropped this."

Grigori growled, his lips fleering back to reveal his glittering fangs. He reached down and grabbed her by the feet, hauling her into the air at arms length, like she was a hooked, dangerous fish that might still bite. "Snap?"

Elim paused and thought for a moment, a revelation seized him and he smiled at her venomously. "Sleep."

Judy struggled in vain, thrashing around and pushing against the nigh-unbreakable fibers. She reared up to bite the hand holding her feet when the other closed around the back of her neck and pulled her straight. With the slightest pressure of his thumb and forefinger, Grigori compressed her tiny neck in a kind of one-handed sleeper hold.

Judy gasped in horror as blackness edged in at the corners of her vision and rapidly consumed her sight; the irresistible falling sensation of unconsciousness overtook her.

"Hey, Elim," Grigori's voice sounded in the blackness. "About that fight just now?"

Elim spoke from somewhere far away. "Yeah, Gori?"

"Don't tell Finn."

Judy's mind swam in inky blackness, her head hung forward limply, her ears draped over her face. She slowly became aware of a strange tightness about her elbows, wrists, and ankles. Judy struggled to wade through the murky sludge of her thoughts, trying to rally against the fog of confusion that addled her mind. There was a sound to her right, were they footsteps?

Something brushed past her drooping ears and something else was waved in front of her nose. Instinctively, she sniffed it; the perfumed ammonia hit her like a kick to the snout and Judy gasped reflexively, pulling away from the smell, her eyes wide and her heart thundering in her chest. She whipped her head around wildly; the room was stark and empty save for a few tables and a counter with a sink. Judy looked down at herself; she was fastened to a chair, her arms secured to the armrests with police-issue zap-straps at the wrists and elbows, her legs were bound together in a similar fashion. A humming behind her drew her attention; it was jaunty and cheerful in a way that chilled her blood. When whoever it was began to sing, his voice was smooth, melodic, and entirely pleasant, somewhat high-toned but definitely masculine.

"It's time to wa~ke up, but you don't need no make-up / 'cause you look stinking fo~xy with nothing but my old Led Zeppelin T-shirt on…" he sang as he walked up behind her.

Judy almost screamed in shock when he abruptly set a small table down in front of her with a sharp clattering bang. She watched her host walk around the table, a chair in his hands. He set it down gently and sat in it, scooting it forward and making the chair legs scrape on the floor. He made a point of shifting on the cushioned seat for a few agonizing seconds. Comfortable, he leaned forward and set his elbows on the surface, weaving his fingers together and resting his chin on them as he stared at her from across the table. Judy did not turn away from his gaze, meeting his inky, glinting eyes with her own violet ones.

Finn smiled wide and white and glittering, his voice thick with glee. "Hi."