A soft knock against a door on one side, a burly voice resonating from the other. "Come in."
Judy walks meekly and quietly into the office of Chief Bogo, the desk and book shelf towering over her.
"Ah… Officer Hopps. I've been meaning to have a little chat with you." He motions towards the chair. "Sit."
She climbs into the seat. "Sir, I know what you want to talk to me about and, please, before you do, I think you should see this." She holds up a bag. "They're papers I found at the shooters location." She places them and a box of rubber gloves onto the desk.
The chief considers her a moment before grabbing a pair of reading glasses off his desk and straightening them on his large snout. He dons a pair of gloves before opening the bag, grabbing the papers within, and unfolding them. As he begins to flip through, his face is rigid, difficult to read. When he gets to the reward amount for Nick, it loosens, his jaw goes a little slack, and his eyes widen a bit. His face continues to turn into putty as he reads through Judy's info. At the end, he slowly folds the papers, staring blankly into a spot on his desk, and returns them to the bag. With two snaps, the gloves are off.
Looking over his glasses, he locks eyes with Judy, his face returning to rock.
"If I were to guess… Somebody's pissed you ruined Bellwether's operation. I've seen bounties, Hopps. I've never seen ones like these."
Judy only returns his glare, ears collapsed, frightened that Bogo is as shocked as he is with his vast years of experience. If she relies on anybody to not show emotion, it is him. Bogo continues. "You do know this means that, if word is to spread—if it hasn't already—every criminal and criminal organization is going to attempt to track you?"
A soft 'yes, sir' crawls from Judy's lips like a dying breath and she looks towards the floor.
"Good. You also know this means you and Wilde will need to be watched 24/7 until this issue is resolved?"
"…yes. …sir."
"Good. Do you know the one, tiny, additional thing this situation means for you?"
She glances up, meets Bogo's eyes for a moment before they fall again. "No, sir."
He abruptly slams a hoof down upon his desk, knocking over a pencil holder and causing the contents to fall to the floor, each utensil landing with a soft thud, the sound resembling the rushed footsteps of some small being trying to run from his wrath. "It means you need to start following protocols, Hopps!" He bellows. "You are now the largest target that I've ever had the displeasure of dealing with. Do not. Step out. Of line. Again. Understood?" He grabs the now empty canister and returns it to where it was.
"Y-yes, sir."
He unleashes a heavy sigh and slouches back into his chair. "I'll arrange a hotel room for you and Wilde for tonight and the basic necessities will be supplied. You are not to return home. For anything. Understood?"
"Yes, sir. Thank-you, sir." She thinks for a moment, a question swirling in her mind but unsure if she should voice it out of fear of prolonging this conversation. Bogo continues for her.
"Hopps," he breathes. "You've proven yourself. There's no need for unnecessary risks anymore."
"That's not what that was about. Not this time. I couldn't just let somebody with a weapon like that run free." 'They also shot at my partner, sir, they frightened me.'
"I commend you for your focus on public safety." A pause. "But, Hopps, a good cop cannot be good if they're dead."
"Yes, sir. I understand, sir."
Before she can stop herself, the question blurts out. "Sir, do you think Doug is behind this?"
Bogo narrows his eyes in thought. "Perhaps he was the shooter but he's not the one who put out the bounty. The reward amount is too great." Bogo rubs an eye with his hoof. "Now, I was going to punish you for your crass behavior but, considering the circumstances, it seems that it will have to wait. But it is coming."He gives a moment for the words to hit their mark. "Do you understand, Hopps?"
"Yes, sir."
"If you screw up again." He clenches his hooves and straightens himself once again. "I will kill you myself if your own stupidity doesn't do it first. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir." She says, quietly.
"What was that, Hopps?"
She looks into his steeled glare, one filled with a burning rage. "Yes, sir!"
"Good. I'll have the information for your room emailed to you. An officer will drive you and Wilde over." He gets up from his desk, walks to the door, and opens it.
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," she says, hopping off the seat.
"Now get out of here and finish your report. It's late and I want to go home."
She leaves the office and the door comes to a close with a loud thud, a momentary breeze brushing against her ears.
Officer Wilde, before entering the bathroom, shoots a glance at the closed door of Chief Bogo's office.
'Judy's probably going through hell right now.'
He walks to a sink with a mirror mounted above it and pushes down on a tile. A soft click resonates and a step-ladder pops up from the floor. He climbs it, places his paws on the chilled ceramic, and stares at his reflection.
Everything collapses.
His usually perked ears fold back, his stance becomes slouched and without energy, his face droops, and his green eyes return no emotion. The wound on his shoulder—now with fresh stitches and a new bandage—aches and throbs and his tie hangs loosely.
'You look like shit.'
He turns the tap, cups his hand under the faucet, and splashes cold water upon his face, causing him to flinch. He glances back into the mirror, drops rolling off his orange fur.
'That didn't help.'
He notices he's shaking a little.
'Pull yourself together. You've dealt with worse.'
He lets loose a breath that fogs the mirror.
'No, I haven't. Yeah, there was the time a wolf – his name was Fernand, I believe—had figured out the gold watch I sold him was fake.'
He chuckles a bit as he wipes a paw across the mirror to clear it. The wolf had physically come to his apartment, broke down the door, and beat the hell out of him. Major temperament problem.
'And then, of course, the Mr. Big incident. But neither involved this amount of money.'
He rubs his neck and breaks the gaze with himself.
'Neither of them involved that dumb bunny; at least, not to this degree.'
Another sigh returns the mirror to its foggy state.
'A minimum of $1,500,00. They want her dead.'
His gut wrenches. He closes his eyes as his ears flatten even more. Turning around, he sits upon the top step and places his head within his lap.
'When did you grow so soft?'
He chuckles again, gently. 'Were you ever not?'
Nick hears the door to the bathroom start to open. Quickly, he jumps to his feet, wipes away the remaining water from his face, and straightens his tie to the best of his ability. Around the corner comes Officer Johnson.
"Wilde, how's it goin'?
Nick's classic sly grin appears. "Dodging bullets. As usual."
Johnson smirks at him. "Really? Because the way I hear it, some little teen girl had to save your ass."
"Huh. Is that so?" Nick leans against the wall. "How's this. You and I can go to the sparring ring again. We can talk about it there. Get the details straightened out."
"You got lucky last time you orange flea-infested runt."
"Oh!" Nick exclaims in mock shock. "So it was a runt who beat you? How embarrassing…"
Johnson chuckles, shakes his head, and struts towards a urinal. "You're rough, you know that?"
Nick shrugs. "I try." And begins walking to the exit.
"See you around Nicky." Johnson calls out. "Try to not get shot at again, alright? You won't always have a common citizen there to save you."
"Wow… Seems like you've learned a few things from yours truly."
He leaves the bathroom, the grin fading the moment he's through the threshold; not even fun banter can improve his mood tonight. He liked Johnson a bit more than most of the officers. He had been, other than Judy and Clawhauser, the first to accept that a fox was actually a part of the force. Now, most treat him as a true member but there's still the occasional slip in manners or treatment that reminds Nick that he still isn't seen through quite the same lens as the others.
The closing of a door drags nick from his thoughts. Judy has just emerged from the Chief's office and is walking towards the one they share. As he climbs the stairs, she disappears within the room. He makes it to the top—three stories up—and follows her in. She's sitting at her desk. There's only four pieces of furniture in the small office—two desks, facing each other and two chairs. Their computers also occupy the space, their glowing screens the only light Judy has on.
He sits down and their eyes meet. "Chief throw a fit?"
She pushes her arms out in a tired stretch. "Yes, actually. A bit. Not as bad as it could have been."
"Sorry fluff, I'm siding with him on this one."
"I couldn't let a suspected sniper just run off. Especially one that just tried to kill my partner."
"Luckily for you he did." Nick logs onto his computer. "So, what's the chief's plan for us?"
"Well, we have a hotel room for tonight since we can't return to our homes."
"Free, right?"
She rolls her eyes and goes back to typing her report.
Pleased with himself, Nick decides to pull up Doug's file. On the way back to the station, Judy had spoken to him about her suspicion. Doug had also crossed his mind as a likely suspect. It was definitely one of the best leads they had. From what they had learned from Doug, he was definitely the type of guy who did things as long as it benefited him in some way. They had overheard his conversation on the subway. He seemed rather lax and didn't care whether the operation he was a part of failed or not as long as he still benefited. In fact, when things started to go south for his crew, he completely abandoned the situation. The point is, a simple sniper job with a massive payout would be far too great of a temptation for him to ignore. Of course, there is no direct evidence Doug was actually the shooter but it did align well. Additionally, if he was, there is something that's working in Nick and Judy's favor; Doug is a wanted criminal. It's not as if he can walk the streets freely.
From the corner of his eye, Nick sees Judy looking upon her own screen with an unfocused expression, eyes staring blankly ahead. Her nose is twitching at a much higher rate than usual. "Judy." She jumps a bit and looks at him. "Are you okay?"
"Nick," she sighs, leaning back in her seat. "I'm not going to lie. I'm frightened. Just one of the hits on our heads exceeds anything Bogo's ever seen." She rubs her arms as if cold and glances away a moment before steeling her gaze, locking her violet eyes back on him. "But Nick, I'm glad it's us. We survived Bellwether. Not only survived but thrived. If anybody's going to get through this, it's us."
Nick can't help but grin as the raging torrent of his own anxiousness and stress, residing just beneath his calm exterior, becomes lesser as her words caress him.
She returns a soft smile.
Nick goes back to reading the file, he goes back to reading it and doesn't notice a luminous spark growing within his chest. It's faint, absolutely miniscule, he noticing it only on the subconscious level, but it's there nevertheless.
As he glances through the information, he declares it useless. There isn't much about the guy and what is known simply doesn't contain enough meat to spike any other leads. Doug is a professional, after all. He knows how to cover his tracks.
"Okay, my report's submitted." Judy states. "I'll check my email and we can head out."
"About time. I'm starving."