Fox Point

by MaveriKat

Those who forget their history are doomed to repeat it but so are those who cannot let the past go. With the rise of the Mammal Inclusion Initiative, one vixen is going to be uprooted from what she knew to live and breath the tenants of the ZPD: Trust, Integrity, and Bravery. Even if the city doesn't believe she can. Rated M for Violence, Adult Language, and Adult Situations.

14. Cold Comfort

Disclaimer: "Zootopia" is owned by the Magical World of Walt Disney Pictures and Walt Disney Animation Studios. The "Sly Cooper" videogame series is owned by Sony, Sucker-Punch Productions, and Sanzaru Games. There are also aspects that will be borrowed from or directly inspired from Zootopia's pre-production works and concepts from Nicolaswilde's "Zistopia" Tumblr blog. Said story itself is a fan-based non-profit work of fiction written strictly for entertainment purposes only. Please support the official releases. Thank you.

Fox Point

By MaveriKat & Nanya
Beta Read By Innortal

Chapter 14: Cold Comfort

It was a late Friday night in Moscow, well past eleven at night. The dance-floor of the club was packed with Ravers decked out in glow-sticks if not minimal scraps of clothing and fur-paint that would glow when exposed to black lights. As it was, the establishment was a nightmare for one employee. The flashing colored lights that illuminated patterns on the dance-floor and across the bar of the nightclub hurt the polar bear's eyes while the concussive blasts of the music's thunderous beat reverberated throughout the chest cavity of the polar predator as he sat by the bar on one of the stools as he valiantly tried to wave down either of the bartenders. Neither attended to him as both ursine men were distracted by the lovely, if not exotic ladies that crowded up against the bar. It was lovely Amur leopardesses, Siberian tigresses and even one particularly gorgeous Eurasian lynx who had those dangerous and sensual feline curves and pelt patterns that drove most predators wild and made it all too easy for the booze-slingers to ignore the man on break who's family name was on their paystubs!

Spitting on the countertop as the two men remained oblivious to his presence, the white-pelted ursine pushed himself off the stool and began to make his way back towards the entrance. Kozlov always hated working as a bouncer for his father's club, the Ice Imperatritsa. The music was usually so loud that one couldn't talk, so actually communicating with his fellow employees usually consisted of the bare essentials shouted directly into ears...

And he if there was one thing he despised more than dealing with the deafening techno crap that was being passed off as, 'music' it was having another predator's sharp fans that close to his face. One quick snap of the jaws and it could be all over for him. He held no delusions that being the son of the Kholodno Bratva's Pakhan hadn't put a target on him. Any enemies of the family would do whatever they could to get back at his old man for slights–either perceived or real–he may have tarnished their honor or reputation with.

Nothing was worse than a mammal with a chip on their shoulder.

Gasping out in annoyance as an intoxicated wolf spilled some of his beer onto his jacket Kozlov brought his hand down to try and wipe some of the alcohol off before it eventually froze in the cold atmosphere of the Arctic-oriented nightclub. Scratch that. There's nothing worse but some things come damn close, he thought with annoyance as he watched as the male timber wolf and his lovely lupine lady made their way to the dance floor. His nostril's flaring for a moment, the frown on the polar bear's muzzle stretched out and deepened as he caught the unmistakable scent of marijuana. It was was prevalent in the air as it originated from the man that had splattered some booze on the coat of his three-thousand dollar–Capitalist denomination mind you–three-piece Giorgio Armani suit.

His fists clenching, the angered ursine in black suit turned about to follow the white wolf, intent to fulfill his role as bouncer by administering an abject lesson of why you were supposed to follow house rules–or at the very least not piss off the help–when he was stopped in his tracks by a paw firmly grasping his shoulder. Turning his head to see who was restraining him, the young mafiya Bratok relaxed a little as he realized the other mammal in a black suit was his older brother. "Donovan," he greeted his sibling and future head of the Kholodno family politely. "What brings you here tonight?" After all, he hadn't seen his brother's name on the shift schedule and his fellow ursine wasn't one to waste his time at the Ice Imperatritsa. As useful as their father's club was for giving them an outlet to launder money, neither of the siblings had a taste for the music let alone the clientele it attracted.

The other polar bear, another tall individual with was finely dressed in a similar fashion to his younger sibling with the exception of a black tie in contrast to his brother's black, gently massaged the other ursine's shoulder. He took a moment to lead him towards the back entrance and away from the dance floor. As they headed into the service area and the noise a dull thrumming instead of overwhelming, he told him, "What brings me here Kozy, is you," he said in all seriousness. At the confused look on the slightly shorter polar bear's face, the polar predator chuckled. "I'm serious. Father told us to cancel all plans for tonight and head out with Tomas. I've already talked to Dzhordzh and let him know to call in someone else." He released his sibling's shoulder and gave him a firm pat on the back. "Now come on, time's wasting!"

That caught Kozlov completely off-guard. "But father is such a stickler for us sticking to our jobs..." he murmured. And that went for both on and off the books! Whether working for the family or the family, one was expected to do what was expected of them if not more or else they would receive punishment. "What's going on? Why would he call me off guard duty as a bouncer... for..." he trailed off, frowning as his brother grasped the lapels of his jacket and stretched them out, making sure they were presentable. "Donovan... what are you doing?"

The older polar bear deflected the inquiries by giving commands. "Stretch out those arms and shake your cuffs," he said in a firm, authoritative tone. "We need to make sure you're presentable."

Raising his left eyebrow in curiosity, the youngest son of Boss Entoni was confused about the need for himself to be presentable but he did as he was told. Bringing both his arms before him, the ursine gave them a little hake, making sure the sleeves were smooth and the gold cufflinks shining. "Like this?"

Looking his sibling over for a moment, the slightly taller polar bear smiled and nodded his head. "Yes. You look good. You're going to want to be presentable for this," he said as he started to walk down the back hallway.

Now the right eyebrow rose up to meet the left as the twenty-two-year-old member of the Russkaya mafiya watched as his brother made his way over to the emergency exit, the audible sound of rain coming from outside. Although he was feeling more than a little put-off by the secrecy of this, the polar bear knew he couldn't refuse. Kozlov was a Kholodno by birth, by blood, and by loyalty. This was the true family business and he would not shame his father, his Pakhan, by showing hesitance now. So taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, the carnivore straightened his shoulders and walked over to where his brother was holding open the door to the back exit. "Thanks," he told his sibling.

"Don't thank me yet," Donovan said with a smirk as he exited behind his younger brother, making sure the door shut firmly behind them. Out in the back parking lot, they were greeted to the sight of a black limousine waiting for them; Tomas standing beside the back doors with an umbrella. He was an older polar bear who stood a head shorter than either of the brothers. He was dressed in a white suit with black turtleneck and while professional enough in appearance, the deep, jagged facial scar that ran down the left side of his face made it obvious this mammal wasn't the sort who held a nine-to-five in an upscale business. "You left the motor running?"

Grunting in response, the man nodded his head as he reached his paw out and grasped the handle of the limousine. Pulling it, he opened the door for the pair, motioning them to hop in as the frosty mist of the vehicle's air-conditioning seeped out into the open air. "Come on, boys. Time is wasting. The Pak—your father doesn't want to be kept waiting," he said, quickly corrected himself. His eyes shifted left and right, making sure there were no eavesdroppers. It wouldn't do to accidentally implicate Boss Entoni of being a criminal.

Nodding his head, the older of the two Kholodno sons gave his brother a push. "You first, Kozy," he said with a smirk as his brother took a stumble forward. When the slightly shorter ursine gave him a glare, Donovan gave him a wide smile, baring his sharp teeth. "That's not a request, brother," he told him rather meaningfully. "Besides, I'm getting soaked standing out here in the rain! Move your tail!"

Huffing in a show of annoyance to hide the worry he could feel travelling up and down his back, Kozlov had to admit it. If he hadn't been on edge before, he sure as hell was now! Still, the Arctic animal did as his older sibling told him to, and ducked his head to enter the vehicle to get out of the rain. Climbing into the leather back seat of the limousine's passenger area, he took a moment to settle himself within the cushioning before his brother joined him; Tomas slamming the door shut behind them. Waiting a moment for his sibling to get settled as well, he asked his fellow Bratok, "Now that we're in private, would you please tell me what's going on?"

Donovan chose to ignore is little brother for a bit more. Instead, he waited for the limo to begin moving before he reached for the drink cabinet in the back and pulled free a bottle of vodka and a pair of shot glasses. Using his thumb claw of his right hand to pierce to metal cap, he poured the contents into the two glass cylinders held tightly in his left paw. Smirking, he held up his massive mitt to his brother. "Here's to us, Kozy. We drink. For both luck and warmth."

Frowning a bit as his sibling continued to evade the question, the polar bear shook his head in irritation before he took one of the drinks. He threw back his drink in one go just as Donovan dropped his own to the floor and began drinking direction from the bottle. The younger brother looked down at the now chipped glass and glared. Ugh. Always so wasteful, he thought with annoyance as he raised his head to see his brother now glaring at him. Realizing his brother too notice and offense the look of annoyance on his face–and knowing he sure as hell would never get away with criticizing the mammal who was next in line to become the family's acting Pakhan–Kozlov explained it away with the comment of, "Some of us might have wanted another drink, Donny..."

That caused Donovan to blink his blue eyes once, twice... before he belted out with roaring laughter. "Sorry, little bro!" He chimed merrily, the anger that had started to simmer gone in a flash. "I'm used to drinking with animals who can't hold their liquor! Usually one is enough for them, leaving it up to me to finish it off." He reached his left paw out, clasping it on his brother's right shoulder before shaking him in a good-natured fashion. "Don't worry! I might not be able to give away the secret yet but I promise you: where we're going, there will be plenty to drink!"

That bit of genuine levity from his brother allowed the now off-duty bouncer to relax, even if only a little. He didn't think he would be in trouble after the huge score he had managed for the family but one could never be too careful in their line of business. One mistake could be a death sentence. So with his worries put to rest, the white-furred ursine did what he could to avoid the ride. Each passing minute making the Arctic animal wonder where they were going as every time he looked out through the tinted window of the limousine as raindrops pelted across its surface and left streaks of water that slid down along the surface, he would see as or realize they had passed one of their usual haunts. Wherever they were going, it wasn't anywhere that the youngest son of the head of the Kholodno Bratva could think of off the top of his head.

He just hoped they got there soon! What wasn't helping with the man's nerves was the constant presence of sirens around them, the noise synonymous with the cops playing on the polar bear's paranoia. He'd never heard so many of them go off at once in his life! Cop cars, fire trucks, and ambulances all sounding out at various distances; from off in the horizon to the very vehicles themselves as they passed by the limo on the road. The Arctic ursine had no clue what was going on but each time those lights shined somewhere in his field of vision or the sound managed to penetrate his vehicle, the off-duty bouncer couldn't help but give off an involuntary shiver, almost expecting them to stop Tomas' stretch limo. One thing Kozy knew about living in Russia that it was a tough life... but he certainly never thought it would be bad enough to bring the police out in full force.

Eventually, the vehicle started to slow when they neared a series of gates comprised of painted red and green bricks with iron bar. It was only then Kozlov realized their destination was that of St. Andrew's Cathedral. The church was a beautiful if not imposing place or worship of the Russian Orthodox faith, the structure a solid red brick instead of the traditional whitestone the local places of worship were known for. A marvel of architecture and craftsmanship that took its construction cues more from the stance of the English Tudor Gothic style than the more commonplace Byzantine Reformation due to its origins as an Anglican church. Meaning the magnificent structure was more reminiscent of castle-type construction from the Western Dark Ages than that of Eastern Russia's perchance for onion-domed towers. Without the presence of the golden decorations that were synonymous with Russian culture, the roof was instead covered with stone tiles and topped with a silver-colored metal cross.

The vehicle made its way through barred gates before it continued its way towards the church; the younger of the two siblings looking over his shoulder and through the back window to catch sight of two ursine individuals closing those wrought-iron doors behind them. In here moments, the limo came up to line up the left side of the vehicle with the church's curbside. The window that was within the partition between the passenger area and the driver's seats slid down, Tomas calling out, "We've arrived. Disembark now." The tone was curter with them than it had been before, making it obvious that whatever was going on, his part in it was done.

Nodding his head, Donovan gave his brother a nudge with the palm of his paw. "Well, you heard the man, Kozy! Get a move on, already!" He then dropped the empty bottle onto the floor, letting it join the chipped shot glass. "It's time to get this show on the road!" He smirked. "Or off the road and into someplace dry as the case may be," he joked.

Grunting as he was pushed roughly, the younger sibling nodded his head and did as told. Reaching out for the interior door handle on his side of the limousine, the ursine male pulled on the trigger to unlatch the lock before pushing it open with his arm. Stepping out into the rain, the man couldn't help but gaze up at the immense building. The polar predator had never been to the church when there wasn't a service but he had to admit, for a place of holy worship... it was very unnerving in the dark. The lack of the mammal congregation made it feel incredibly isolated, despite the cathedral being right in downtown Moscow.

He was drawn from his thoughts by the shout of, "Move it, Kozy!" Realizing his brother needed him to get out of the way, the mammal stepped aside a bit, allowing the slightly taller white-pelted carnivore to step out of the back. Straightening his black tie as he did so, the eldest Kholodno son chuckled as he murmured, "This is going to be good. If it weren't for the storm, this would be a perfect night for this." With a shove of his shoulder to move his sibling out of the way even more, he walked past his younger brother and made his way up the stone steps of the church. "Move your tail; they're waiting for us!"

Hoping what Donny said was true–even if he was being his usual selfish asshole self about it–the finely-dressed polar bear began to climb the steps, following his older brother as Tomas took off, leaving them there. Heading up the polished rock stairs, the pair made their way to the arched entrance; a pair of thick wooden doors that were shaped to the arch serving as a barrier from the outside. Above this main entryway, an exquisite stained-glass rose window imported from Italy. Enclosing this remarkable entryway were twin columns on either side that rise above the roof they surround with attached brick pier-adorned alcoves with crosses set within at each corner.

Each brother grasped a door and pulled open. They were immediately greeted to the priest as he stood by the font of the church that was used for baptisms and consecrations. The elderly Siberian tiger was decked out in his traditional sticharion; the robe and cap vestment of the Russian-Orthodox priest that was adorned with high quality galloons and embroidered with crosses in various styles from around the world in golden thread. Looking up at the two taller carnivores, the aged striped feline smiled and greeted, "Evening, boys."

The brothers stepped inside before closing the doors behind them. Turning to their religious elder, the pair bowed their heads in reverence to him. He might not have been an ursine but he was a fellow predator. "Good evening, Father Vseproshcheniye," the two greeted respectfully; Kozlov now rather curious as to why the priest was involved.

Smiling, the striped wildcat nodded his head, causing his length beard to bounce a bit before it settled against his chest atop the cranberry-colored vestments. He raised his right paw out, beckoning for them to come closer. When they did, the feline priest dipped the fingertips of his left paw into the bowl of the font before flicking the droplets of water at them as he made the sign of the cross in mid-air. "Water of life, bless and refresh us."

"Water of life, bless and refresh us," the two sons of Entoni Kholodno repeated.

The Orthodox priest then turned to the marble font. He dipped his right hand into the pool of holy water before he turned about to face the pair of polar bears once more. He then reached up with his right thumb, pressing it against Donovan's forehead. "Restore us to life with Lord Cheeses," he said before doing the same to Kozlov, making sure to press the holy water firmly against the front of his scalp.

"Restore us to life with Lord Cheeses," the pair of ursine men repeated as they both made a sign of the cross over themselves.

Nodding his head, the older mammal said, "God bless you boys. You may head on in to see the others but please remember. If you need me, I will be in the rectory." He smiled and gave the two a nod of his head as he took off towards the left, making his way further into the church grounds while leaving the two to make their way into the main cathedral unimpeded.

Watching the older tiger make his way until he was out of view, Kozlov released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. This is it, the younger of the brothers thought as he took a moment to straighten out his white tie, using the action to buy some time to steel himself so he didn't appear as nervous as he felt. Whatever was to happen, this was it. So taking a deep breath, he walked in step with his brother, the two walking side-by-side as they made their way into the church proper and down the aisle, passing pews where some members of the Brigadiers sat towards the Altar where their father stood with two of his men.

Turning from the pair of polar bears he was chatting with Entoni turned to face the new arrivals. He was a massive predator, standing even taller than his boys who themselves were prime examples of imposing Arctic ursine men. Forgoing his usual jewelry, the elder polar bear was dressed in a charcoal gray suit and a white shite and tie combination much like his youngest son although now with his bare paws, one could see the crown tattoo around his left ring finger that marked him as the boss of the Kholodno Bratva. Smiling wide at the sight of his boys, the proud father spread his arms out to his sides as he stepped down the steps that were aligned with the raised platform the altar was atop of. "Ah! There they are! The men of the hour!" He said in a surprisingly cheerful fashion as he closed the distance between him and his sons. Embracing them both in either arm, he queried, "So are my boys ready to become made mammals?"

Although he was surprised, the youngest of the related bears managed to return the hug. "Made? Do you mean to tell me..." he trailed off, unable to bring himself to say it aloud.

Letting off a hearty laugh, the older, larger, and portlier polar bear replied, "That's right boys! You two have been working hard to earn your marks all these years! With that last successful job you two did? I'm proud to say tonight is the night!" As he said that, numerous members of the Bratva began to clap their hands while the rest began to move about the cathedral, turning off the lights while lighting a few candles. Releasing his sons, he clapped his hands on either of their shoulders as he told them, "Come on, my sons! Let's get started!"

When his father released him and his brother, Kozlov waited for his father to start walking towards the back of the church before he made his way up to the altar alongside his brother; the elder brother giving him a thumbs-up. As their father and Pakhan made his way behind the rites table covered in sacred cloth, Kozy watched as the older mammal waited long enough for them to make their way to the front of it before motioning them to stop. As the younger polar bear stood there, his eyes wandered over what was atop the table, from the candles to the prayer cards, the gold signet rings, the stiletto knife, and of course, the bottles of wine.

Gazing over the church to make sure everyone had a chance to settle down in their seats, Entoni turned his attention to the pair before him. He took a deep breath before speaking out, "All right. You all know why we're here?" There was a murmuring from the gathered members of the Bratva's Avtoritet. As his sons nodded their heads in understanding, the Boss of this particular brotherhood of the Russkaya mafiya continued, "If either of you has any reservations about this, now is the time to say so. I won't think any less of you." His eyebrows furrowed menacingly. "Because once you enter into this family, there is no getting out."

Both Kozlov and Donovan stood there, the paws in front of them and folded over their abdomens in a relaxed stance. Neither mammal flinched at the menace to their father's words. He was patriarch in both blood and gang and they would follow him anywhere.

Nodding his head as his children's silence, the Pakhan continued, "This family comes before everything else. Everything." His eyes darted back and forth between both of his adult sons. "It will come before your wives, any children you will one day have, and even me, your father. This is a matter of honor. And Gouda forbid if you get sick or something happens and you can't earn, we'll take care of you because that's part of being in the brotherhood."

Giving his boys a moment to digest that, the middle-aged polar bear continued, "If you have a problem, you bring it to one of your fellow Avtoritet or directly to me. I may be your Boss first and foremost but I am still your father. It doesn't matter if this problem is an internal one or with someone outside the brotherhood. Bring it to us: we will solve it. Because above all else, you stay within the family," he said heatedly, the tone of his voice brooking no argument that there were no secrets from each other. They did everything as one or not at all.

"I understand father," Donovan stated firmly without hesitation.

Nodding his head, Kozlov agreed, "We stay within the family.

Smiling as he felt a swell of pride, Entoni nodded his head in satisfaction at their responses. "All right then. Now both of you, give me your left paws," the head of the Kholodno Bratva said in all seriousness as he picked up the stiletto in his right hand and slowly drew the blade over the flames of one of the candles. He then reached forward; his left paw gently cupping his eldest son's upturned hand before gently stabbing the tip of the thin knife into the man's palm and eliciting a hiss of pain from him. He then returned the stiletto to the knife of the candle to his right once more before doing the same with Kozlov. The Kholodno Patriarch then carefully placed the knife down atop the altar as he merely watched, allowing his sons a moment to pool a bit of their blood within in their upturned palms. "Cup your hands together. Make sure to get enough in there."

Looking down at his slowly bleeding palm for a moment as it slowly turned the white fur of his palms crimson, Kozlov couldn't help but let his gaze wander back and forth to keep his mind on anything but the blood. His stare travelled over to his father, to his confident brother, and to the pair of stain-glass windows on the walls of the cathedral closest to him that each conveyed a scene from the Stations of the Cross as heavy raindrops pelted against them...

But it was a bolt of lightning that caught the polar bear's attention... or to be more precise, what it illuminated. His eyebrows raised up as the flash of light from outside shone an outline across the surface of the glass. The shape was that of some kind of bird, possibly an owl.

A big owl...

"Ahem," Kozlov's father coughed out throatily to get his youngest son's attention. When he had both of his boys' attention on him, the head of the Kholodno Bratva held up a pair of prayer cards. The image on the cards was that of an old housecat with long white fur and beard in red tunic and brown sandals, the feline holding the Gospel book in his right hand while his left held onto a length of fishing net that draped around his feet. "This is Andrew the Apostle, Patron Saint of not only the working class but also our family." He placed both cards to the candle, allowing their corners to catch fire. "As these cards burn, so may your souls burn in hell if you betray your family," he proclaimed as he carefully dropped one card into the bloody palms of his eldest son, before then placing the other prayer card into the bleeding paws of his youngest. "Let them burn boys. Let them burn."

When they were practically holding rising flames in their paws as the cards were engulfed entirely and began to burn the blood, Entoni nodded his head. "Now, rub your hands together. Mix those ashes of the saint into your hands, your blood... and repeat after me."

Both polar bears did as their father told them, yet now Kozlov was distracted. His eyes continuously darting to his left towards the stained-glass window of Cheeses rising into heaven, and the giant bird he would have sworn was just outside of it... although it seemed to have been replaced with a pair of golden lights that shone through the holy imagery.

Frowning slightly as his youngest child continued to dart his eyes away from him, the elder ursine continued in a commanding tone to force the boy's attention back to what was truly important. "May I burn in hell..."

"May I burn in hell," Donovan stated firmly as he rubbed his hands.

Startled as he heard that, the younger Kholodno son also repeated, "May I burn in hell."

Seeing he had both sons paying attention once more, the portly polar bear then stated, "If I betray my brothers."

"If I betray my brothers," the siblings said as one. Kozlov was trying his best to keep his focus on his father, but another flash of light caused his eyes to turn towards the window once more... showing that yes the outline of the owl was still there and that the twin golden lights were aligned perfectly with the avian's eyes.

Smiling, the middle-aged Arctic anima brought both his hands up. "Congratulations, my sons. Welcome to your family." He began to clap for them in congratulations... an action that was soon repeated by other members of the Kholodno Bratva, the men cheering on the Boss's sons. Coming around the altar, the polar bear hugged his eldest son. "Oh, Donovan... now that you're a member of the Avtoritet, you will soon captain your own gangs of Bratok."

Hugging his father back, the eldest son assured his father, "I won't let you down my father. My Boss." Smirking, he couldn't help but get a dig at his brother. "You can rest easy. You need depend on only me."

Kozlov said nothing but merely clapped as their father hugged his eldest son, the favorite. It was no surprise that his ego would swell with the promotion. He just hadn't thought Donny would let it go to his head before he actually accomplished anything as one of the newest Brigadiers of the brotherhood. Not that he would have gotten this promotion without me. I did all the wheeling and dealing to smuggle those gems into Russia. He only needed to find buyers, the younger sibling thought with annoyance.

However, any spite he could have felt for his family was quickly snuffed out as the stained glass window he'd been staring at often during the ceremony exploded inward with an incredible show of force. The powerful winds that blew through the destroyed window-frame not only sent shards of colored glass flying everywhere but snuffed out all the candles as well...

Not that the place church was left in the dark. Twin lights shone about the room from the eyes of a giant owl as it sat within the open window frame, using the bottom of the broken metal frame as a perch; talons moving left and right to break off whatever pieces of stained glass remained to give it a smooth surface for its feet. The bird's head moved back and forth, eyebrows furrowed in a glare as it gazed out over the cathedral, taking in the sight of those gathered, as if sizing up the numerous ursine mobsters before deigning them as beneath its notice.

As the eyes of the much, much larger animal cast illumination upon the altar and the trio of polar bears gathered by it, the boss of the Kholodno mafiya pushed his sons away from him and pointed with the giant-sized avian. "What are you waiting for, an invitation!?" He shouted out into the cathedral as he outstretched hand came back to his chest, the right paw delving into his interior jacket pocketing. Pulling free and unfolding a Baikal MP-153–a 12 gauge gas-operated semi-automatic shotgun that was more akin to a hand-canon in the paw of a mammal much larger than it was designed for–with a flick of his wrist, the Pakhan took aim roared out the command, "SHOOT THAT DAMN BIRD!"

When he pulled the trigger and fired the first shot and the red plastic casing was expulsed from the side slit, it became a free-for-all. Most of the carnivore criminals gathered pulled forth either TT-33 pistols or their Type 54 Chinese variants from their jacket or pants pockets before taking aim and pulling the trigger again and again while the two Arctic mammals that had been standing guard by the entrance proper rushed towards the party crasher with their AKS-74U carbine rifles held high. As they closed the distance with their target, the pair of polar predators began to unload their clips at the bright-eyed interloper with their Bulgarian reproductions of the classic AK-47, raining 5.45×39mm bullets at it along with the other members of the brotherhood...

Only to cause sparks from ricocheting bullets and pellets as it turned out the beast was a creation of metal instead of flesh. As the rate of fire began to lesson as a number of the Bratva began to reload, one of the massive metal eyebrows raised, making the machine's left eye fully so it could shine light across even more of the cathedral, the beak flexible enough to curl back in a silent snarl. It stared down at the leader of the group as he feverishly tried to reload shells into the barrel before it craned further into the church and spread out its mighty wings. The air pressure from one solid flap caused every wooden cross in the building to break apart and smolder if not burst into flame outright, the metal ones to crumple up into twisted lumps, and the stained glass windows still in place to violently crack. It launched itself from the windowsill before coming down on the altar with its massive frame, breaking the holy stone table.

Entoni and Donovan stepped back while they could from the huge avian machine as it stood atop the rubble of the consecrated table. Kozlov also did such but the placement of his foot hit the left of one of the steps rather than the top of the stair fully and ended up falling backwards and down to the congressional floor. He sat up quickly tilting to his left and sitting on that butt-cheek as he reached behind himself with his right paw for his own TT-33 while his elder brother sneered at the bird as he pulled forth a Makarov pistol in his right hand as he used his left to grip the top of the semi-automatic's casing to make sure the blowback function had a bullet primed in the barrel before he took aim at the menacing machine, covering his father while the older polar bear continued to reload his own firearm.

It then spoke in the coldest, most evil voice that Kozlov had ever heard. It was male, that much was certain, but the hollow metallic tone filled the Arctic mammal with a chill greater than taking a dive in Siberian waters during winter. "Come at me or go away, it matters not. Either way, I am here for those of Kholodno blood." The eyes shimmered with a red haze for a moment in a menacing fashion as a guttural breathing sound reverberated within the chest cavity.

Gritting his teeth at the direct threat, the middle-aged polar bear raised his semi-automatic shotgun again as he cried out, "FUCK YOU, BIRD!" He started firing his weapon once more as his men followed in suit. The gathered mammal mobsters kept unloading more clips and shells into the heavily armored frame that seemed to deflect the metal projectiles, intent to find a chink in the armor that they could exploit and destroy. The church was filled with the explosion echoing sound of weapon ignition and propulsion, the screeching of metal clashing as they collided with one another, and the splintering of wood as the ricocheting bullets went flying off the mechanical monstrosity and into the pews: the dented slugs posing a greater threat to those who fired them off than they did their intended target.

The mechanical owl... was well and truly annoyed. It said nothing as metal paneling slid back along its shoulders, a square device rising up from the now exposed interior to where it stood perched up between its wings. Once firmly settled on the machine's back, the central portion of the mechanical block extended forward, turning the shape into a canon-like device. Once it was fully formed, a violet light started to shimmer at the opening of the weapon's muzzle, glowing brighter with each passing second as electricity crackled along the barrel's length.

His gaze widening in terror as his fur stood on end from the buildup of static that was filling the room, the Pakhan of the brotherhood shouted, "The eyes! Aim for its eyes!" He raised his hand and continued to fire off the last two shells he had in his as the two bears with AKS-74Us came up at either side of their leader before unloading a clip each at the where their boss commanded they fire upon.

The arcing electric energy began spinning around the length of the weapon faster and faster, the violet light at the center of the barrel glowing bright in turn. Finally the charge reached its peak and released in a series of energy blasts, the output of concentrated electrical impulses firing off from the barrel tip in rapid succession as if they homing rockets! The sparking blasts of purple light rained down all over the cathedral with no rhyme or reason, just targeting wherever they could and detonating! The after-shock from each blast exploding blew loose anything that wasn't nailed down; the force rocking the centuries-old building and causing the already cracked stained-glass windows to shatter outright, blowing their iridescent pieces of multi-colored material out into the bushes, sidewalk, and parking lot: everything that surrounded the St. Andrew's was awash in crystalline shards and smoldering cinders.

The interior was filled with a thick, billowing smoke as the blazing pews were set ablaze. It was a contrast of light and darkness, the fire casting a glow over the rippling form of the airborne haziness. But one thing that Kozlov could make out was the screaming... the pitched screams of terror of agony. Lowering his arms as the attack ended, the youngest son of the Kholodno boss looked around. His eyes widened as he saw his old man was flat on his face not too far from him. "Father!" He called out, as he pushed himself to a standing position, intent to run over to his downed patriarch.

The Arctic animal didn't manage a single step before a large set of talon stepped firmly down on the man, making his cry out in pain before those sharp digits enclosed around Entoni. The claws slowly upturned, allowing the mechanical fiend to gaze down at his prey, drinking in the sight of the small–in comparison to itself–polar bear. It began to chuckle, a horrid metallic sound that reverberated within the throat before it spoke, "Foolish, foolish mammal. Nothing can pierce my hide." And then to make its point, the robotic avian began to tighten its grasp.

The polar predator could only watch as those razor-sharp talons closed in on his father, the middle-aged mammal screaming in complete and utter suffering as the clawed digits slowly cut through flesh and fur before burrowing down into muscle and bone with the smoothness of a hot knife slicing through butter. The screamed turned into a choked gargling as Entoni began bleeding profusely from every orifice before going silent forever more. With his talons firmly closed, the remains of the Russkaya mafiya boss splattered onto the ground in a series of large chunks and bloody viscera.

Kozlov threw up.

Just as he finished letting loose his dinner, a mighty voice roared out, "YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!" The polar bear raised his head in time to see it was his older brother Donovan screaming as the man rose up from the some of the church's wreckage. The older ursine was enraged as he stood defiantly in his attire ruined, only pants with holes in the knees, scraps of cloth hanging from his wrists by the shirt cuffs, and a scraggly length of black tie remaining. Yet in his hands, he held one of the AKS-74U carbine rifles that he had salvaged from one of the Brigadiers and opened fire at the mechanical monstrosity with the ammunition that remained in the clip. "DIE!"

The giant owl didn't wait for the ammunition to run out as it merely leaned its body forward slightly, slamming its beak down on the eldest Kholodno son, the weight behind it pulverizing the polar bear into a messy state with such force that sent pieces flying off in every direction; a circular ring of blood extending out from the point of impact.

Kozlov could only gaze on in growing terror as the abomination straightened up once more and turned towards him, the creatures yellow eyes casting direct illumination upon him, light bright enough to actually cut through the smoke of the room and allowing the target of it to see far more than it could before. The destruction, the fire, the slick coating of darkened crimson covering the features made the carnivore swear he was staring down Lucifer. "What are you?" He barely managed to whisper out as stood within one of the holiest places in Russia as it became hell itself.

A guttural breathing noise sounded out once more before the avian automaton spoke once more, surprising the mammal as he really hadn't been expecting an answer. "I... am Clockwerk," the creation said, introducing itself. "And you and I have much to discuss, young Kholodno..."

"Discuss?" He asked as he took a step back from the beast. "Discuss!?" He cried out. "You killed them! My family! Our most trusted men! ALL OF THEM!" The ursine shouted as he pointed up at the bionic bird in accusation.

One it didn't bother to argue. "Of course. How else was I to make you the new head of the Kholodno Bratva if there were so many others ahead of you in the line of succession?" It queried as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I have need of you, Kozlov. You be of great use to me..." it said replied as it took a step forward, stepping over the remains of the polar bear's father.

As the mechanical menace began to close the distance, Kozlov continued to step back from it. "Use?" He whispered, before going stock still as the bird leaned over again, the mammal going stock still out of fear. Yet death didn't come. No, the giant owl put its face to his own, allowing the newly made mammal to see his reflection within the yellowed eyes of the massive beast.

"Yes. Use," it stated firmly, the avian android's deep, hollow tone resounding within the walls of the destroyed church. "I am now the head of this Bratva but it will need someone to be the face of its leadership... you will be that face I put forward. Do we understand?"

Kozlov shivered, still looking into the light of those eyes. "You killed my family and now want me to be subservient!? Why would I do that!? Hell!" He snapped. "With so many of us dead, we're doomed! Our rivals will swoop in and kill us all!" He may have been terrified but the audacity of what this abomination proposed as insane. If he was going to die, the Arctic animal would prefer it be now on his terms.

A deep, menacing chuckle shook the chest cavity of the mechanical owl. "There is no need, young Kholodno. I was very busy tonight... I paid visits to the Lyuberetskaya, the Orekhovskaya, even the Solntsevskaya Bratvas..." he listed them off one after another. "I left them in great shambles. Trust me, boy..." he said in a harsh tone that seemed to take great relish in what it was saying. "They won't be a threat to you: all their blood members are dead. In fact if you act fast, you might be able to completely snuff out what remains of their gangs the police didn't pick up yet."

The polar bear's jaw moved up and down silently for a moment, the white-pelted ursine unable to form words at the implications. With that boast, a lot of what the criminal carnivore had seen on the road that night made sense. This... thing... it had been picking the groups off one-by-one leaving the Russian authorities to clean up the mess. "Why?" He asked.

"Because, young Kholodno," Clockwerk stated firmly as it straightened itself up once more. "I need diamonds."

"What!?" Kozlov snapped, completely taken aback. "All this... all of this for diamonds!?" He cried out as he motioned to the destruction around him. "Everyone I cared about dead because you want riches!?"

"Not riches!" The emotionally heartless machine snapped. "Diamonds! You are not only the best jewel smuggler in your family but this nation!" He stated firmly, letting the polar bear know this was fact and not mere opinion. "It is only by this one skill that you developed that you above all else are allowed to keep your life!" A deep, metallic breath reverberated from within the avian's torso once more. "I have attained my life-long mission days ago and now it is time to go onto the next, to prove myself the most powerful force in the world. To do that, I need diamonds. Sizable diamonds with clarity, the purer the better. I don't care if you have to get them specially cut or spend to get them in large lots with other lesser jewels either. You will be dedicating your life to finding me all the best diamonds you can!"

The polar bear just stared, realizing how much danger he was in now. This wasn't a simple killing machine... it was insane! "What... what do you need so many diamonds for?"

The yellow gaze of the automated owl's yellow eyes slowly took on a red illumination. "You need not know! All you need to do is get me diamonds! I will expect monthly shipments. Take solace in knowing that while I will keep the best, you and your Bratva may keep whatever is useless to me." The crimson lighting took on a true blood red sheen. "But I will expect each tithing to have a considerable number of what I require! Do we have an accord, Pakhan?" He said the title in an almost mocking manner.

Gulping to get moisture to a dry throat, Kozlov asked, "And if I refuse?"

The corners of the metal beak managed to curl in a devious, dark smile. "Simple: You die and I simply fly off to another country to find another high-end gem dealer. You accept and not only will I still get what I want but your family becomes the most powerful mafyia in all of Russia. Really, it's in your best interest here to accept," the owl said matter-of-factly.

His shoulders sagging, the polar bear lowered his head, feeling nothing but shame; the burning of the church around him making the mammal realize he entering a deal with the devil and there would be no turning back. "I..." he took a deep breath before exhaling once more, trying to get the bitter taste of bile out of his mouth. "I accept... Clockwerk..." he said slowly, knowing that even with this destruction, he could at least try to keep on the traditions of the brotherhood... even if they were but mere vassals to a far greater menace.

"Splendid," the owl straightened up. "Just what I wanted to hear..." it said as it turned about; one eye turning red as it gazed the crimson illumination over the remains of the polar bear's parent–the bright line that went straight through the center reminding the mammal of a barcode scanner. The deep red glow seemed focused on the corpse's arm in particular for a few moments before the light of the optic went back to yellow, matching the other eye. Turning back to the much tinier animal, the devious avian told him, "Offer me your left hand, Boss Kholodno." Seeing the trepidation on the animal's expression, it firmly declared, "Now."

Eyes widening, at the darkening tone, the white-pelted ursine somberly nodded his head and brought his left paw. "Show me your palm," the owl commanded of him and the polar bear complied and upturned his hand, showing the reddened fur and the wound that hadn't had a chance to heal. His eyes went wide as he watched Clockwerk raise its right talon up, the binary-coded bird keeping balance on one clawed foot.

Kozlov screamed as one of the talons pierced into the wound and stayed there, wiggling about inside for a moment. While the stab of the stiletto had been uncomfortably painful, this was just torturous. A burning sensation traveled throughout his body as if going directly through his blood stream with an intensity that just increased with each passing moment. Falling to his knees, the polar bear grasped his right paw around his left wrist, his palm bleeding anew; the tear in his flesh oozing profusely.

"Just relax and let the magic do its job. It will be over shortly," the avian assured, the machine not at all perturbed by the suffering its power was putting the mammal through.

Tears were in the corners of Kozlov's eyes as he stared at his hand, the sensation of prickling heat intensifying within his hand in particular. Turning it over, his blinked his eyes a moment, trying to clear his blurry vision. As his eyes cleared, his was horrified to find he wasn't seeing things. The arteries and veins on the back of his hand had gone dark enough to see through hiss fur, his ring finger becoming dark enough that it looked as though it was going to fall off from frostbite! He would have begged to know what was going on but he could barely do anything but cry out in pain.

Fortunately for him, almost as intensely as it began the torture just as sharply subside. He stared at the darkness within his hand seem to be coalescing around the base of the ring finger, the bleeding slowly down and letting the polar bear realize just how drenched his jacket's sleeve was in his own blood. His breathing began to ease as he just stared with a curious gaze, watching as the black coloration seemed to flow beneath and over his skin, unable to comprehend what was going on until the dark essence finally solidified into the pattern of a crown tattoo in the spor where a ring would go. The same tattoo that his father had as the Bratva's boss...

The exact same tattoo...

Kozlov just stared down in awe and shock, turning his paw on his wrist back and forth to try and look around the finger and the image that now marked him, a possible branding of damnation. Looking up, he saw the android avian had already turned its back to him, making its way towards the closest open window. "Clockwerk!" He called out. "Where are you going?"

While the weight and power of the words remained menacing, the tone it spoke with was one of disinterest. "We are done here, Boss Kholodno." It took another step close, gazing up at the numerous broken windows that were now bare of the once holy imagery they once proudly displayed. Spreading its wings, it continued, "As you will need to get your affairs in order with the rest of your group, I will grant you a small reprieve to do so. However as my Derzhatel obschaka, I will expect my first tithing of diamonds at the end of this season and then you will provide a monthly tribute of gems on the last day of every month from then on. Don't worry about how to get them to me. When the time is right, I will find you."

With a mighty flap of its wings, Clockwerk flew off towards the wall; its wingspan breaking through the stone wall barriers that partitioned five of the windows, creating one massive hole in the side of St. Andrew's Church. The speed with which the menacing machine left drew out all the air from the room, freeing it of the smoke and putting out the flames as it drew the oxygen from Kozlov's lungs.

Falling to his hands and knees, the polar bear gasped for air that wasn't there for a moment until finally, he was able to breath once more, coughing and hacking as his lungs burned and spasmed within his chest. Left in the darkness once more in a cathedral that had become a warzone if not a tomb, the polar bear was left alone amongst the dead of his family.

He didn't know how long he stayed there like that. However, Kozlov was brought back to reality by the sensation of a hand on his shoulder, seemingly ignoring the fact the jacket had become soaked in blood. Turning his head to his left, the ursine saw that it was Father Vseproshcheniye.

The striped feline priest looked down at the young bear with immense sympathy. "Gouda have mercy on you, my son," he said simply. "May Gouda have mercy on your soul..."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Twirling the glass of vodka in his massive hand, Kozlov stared at it for the longest while. "From then on, I may have been the Bratva's Pakhan but I was a slave to that monster. For the next decade, I spent my time and effort doing as Clockwerk commanded. I was able to run the family as I saw fit but I had to make certain that he had more than enough diamonds he considered acceptable..." he snorted in disgust. "It took me a solid year before I was able to figure out that such only meant the fiend wanted them either near-flawless to begin with or huge enough to where if the rocks had to be cut by a professional jeweler that they were still as large as my fist afterwards. Quality and quantity was a huge thing for the damn bird..."

Watching as the polar bear brought the tall glass to his lips and began drinking deeply of his vodka–the man having already gone through three bottles as his story went on–Nick continued to stare out at the retired mob boss as he mulled over what he'd been told. "Cheeses H-for-Hummus Crackers..." he murmured in shock. "You mean to tell me such a creature truly existed? That a machine of all things could be as sentient and cruel as that?"

The answer the owner of the Snow Palace gave was to lower his left hand and show the massive scar that bore into the center of his palm. The scarred tissue of the wound looked as though it had been made by something thicker if not more wicked than a sword let alone a knife!

Gulping nervously, the male red fox nodded his head, finding it difficult to accept but not about to call out the polar bear as exaggerating. "What kind of monster was this Clockwerk?"

"An ancient one," Carmelita spoke up, her eyes narrowed as she had a serious expression on her face. At the look her fellow fax gave her, she calmly explained, "Trust me on this one, Wilde. I ended up having to deal with that bastard and during my..." she trailed off, considering her words. Taking a breath she then continued, "During my investigation... I found evidence that the owl dates back as far as the Ice Age, circa Ten-Thousand B.C."

Poor Nick's jaw dropped upon hearing that. "You mean to tell me the thing that screwed over Kozlov was twelve-thousand-years-old!?" He cried out, trying to comprehend just how much could have been experienced in that time frame.

Her navy blue eyebrows furrowing as she focused on her fellow fox, the Hispanic vixen nodded her head in affirmation. "At the very least," she began firmly. "And even then I'm willing to bet that he was already ancient when the world was new." Granted, the vulpine woman had such an opinion because she had personally seen Clockwerk as a machine during that era thanks to Bentley's time machine but that wasn't exactly the sort of thing one talked about in mixed company... particularly former criminals who might want to use said device for nefarious ends if they believed her or simply try to have her committed to an insane asylum if they didn't.

She never could get Chief Barkley to believe her report about time travel and that mammal would trust her with his life!

"HOW!?" The pawpsicle hustler cried out in shock. As Carmelita stared at him curiously with that outburst, the man had the decency to blush. "Look..." he began once again, this time in a much calmer fashion. "I mean, I know you both are being honest with me." Mostly because he trusted Officer Fox to be upfront with him and he wasn't stupid enough to say otherwise to Mr. Cold's face. "But that seems too incredible to be true! A twelve-thousand-year-old cyborg owl? I mean, think about it! How could it have managed to stay alive for so long!?"

Her muzzle pulling back in a frown, the Latina vulpine sighed before telling her friend, "I remember what Clockwerk said during our fight at the Krack-Karov volcano..." she replied in a rather somber fashion. "He said that revenge was the prime ingredient in the so-called, 'fountain of youth'. The monster admitting that he kept himself alive for millennia on a steady diet of jealousy and hatred."

"Either that or he found a mystical wishing dragon," Klozlov muttered with a smirk, trying to add some mirth to the situation as he dropped what he was certain was a witty pop culture reference to the Japanese cartoon about the Super Simians. "Needless to say, I have seen many crazy things. Nothing would surprise me at this point."

It turned out one of the pair of vulpine mammals got the joke. "I hope not because I don't want to deal with space slugs," Carmelita replied, getting a laugh from the others. It wasn't like she was all work when back when she was in training. Besides that, the female red fox needed something to watch in her down time after all...

Even if it was something that Sly had suggested she get back into. Although he never told her at the time, the anime surrounding the Super Simians was apparently something Murray had turned the raccoon onto.

Slowly nodding his head, the male vulpine looked up at the polar predator sitting behind the desk as he queried, "So... your hand also still has..." he trailed off, not sure if it was too intrusive.

Setting down his drinking glass, the polar bear nodded his head. Setting down his glass, the mammal's right hand came over his left, clasping digits onto and taking hold a gold signet ring that adorned his left paw. Removing it, he showed off the crown tattoo that remained after all this time. "Most mammals scoff at the notion of magic in this modern world ruled by science and reason. But that night, I knew for certain that there was more beyond heaven and earth than could be dreamt of by any animal's philosophies."

Nodding her head in agreement, Carmelita replied, "Tell me about it. I used to be a pretty by-the-book Interpol agent until I kept coming across things that taught me otherwise. Immortal animatronic owls, feral chicken zombies, werewolves carved from stone, dark magic, angry Aboriginal spirits, Chinese vampires, summoned mystical dragons... the kind that do not grant wishes..." she grit her teeth in aggravation. "And far more than I care to remember," she admitted with a hint of bitterness.

His head turned towards his fellow vixen as she prattled on about magical happenings in the world, Nick blinked his eyes once, twice, thrice. "...Seriously?" He chirruped.

Snorting in annoyance, Carmelita firmly told him, "Look up, 'Giant Fox', 'Mask of Dark Earth', and/or 'Mysteries of the Australian Outback' on a Zoogle Search. That should be enough of an answer."

Pouring himself another drink, the owner of the Snow Palace raised an eyebrow. "Or," Kozlov interjected. "You can use Zoogle to check into what our governments have as a last resort in case of a giant alien invasion." The polar bear shook his head. "You know all those giant monuments around the world?"

The cryptic nature of the ursine's comment made the crimson-pelted canid raise an eyebrow in curiosity. "...Yeah..?" Nick asked slowly. "What about them?"

"Giant robots," the polar bear stated firmly. As the two smaller predators stared up at him in disbelief, he added, "Yes. Even the famous Mount Rushmore; it's a combiner."

The male red fox sat before the retired crime boss's desk for a moment. "...I would suggest that you're pulling my tail but something tells me that you're right," Nick murmured quietly. Although it would explain why so many countries were in debt.

Although now he kind of wanted to see the Lady Liberty punch out a UFO with a swipe of her torch...

"I've never heard anything about giant robots," the vixen admitted. Well, ones that were made from monuments, anyway, she mentally amended. "But the point I'm making is, that even as mundane as things may seem in everyday life, there is far more beyond this world's scope than the norm." She shook her head. "Honestly... if it weren't for the blatant specism and government corruption, I would say Zootopia could be a rather nice place to live."

"It is," the ursine entrepreneur supplied. "Of course, it's particularly nice if you have the money. It's why my Bratva chose to come here once you destroyed Clockwerk. We knew once word got out about the destruction of the brotherhood's true Pakhan and the reason why he wanted so many diamonds in the first place, that old rivalries would soon rekindle and they would come after us for vengeance."

Tilting his head in a curious fashion, the male tod couldn't help but query, "That is something I was curious about. Why did the owl want so many diamonds in the first place?" After a moment, the canid con-mammal added, "Was it because the robo-bird wanted wealth that would last as long as it would?"

Shaking his head, the large predator let off a sigh. "Nyet, good Wilde. He needed all those diamonds to be part of a doomsday weapon," the Arctic ursine replied in all seriousness. As the male vulpine's green eyes went wide, the polar bear admitted, "I'm serious. I only found out in the last two years I spent working for the freak when he started requesting specific sizes and cuts. The fiend was using them to channel the thermal energies of the Krack-Karov volcano to the world's satellite network via a massive ray gun. It would have been an incredibly powerful weapon of infinite ammunition and range. No one would have been safe..." he trailed off somberly as he brought his glass to his lips.

The vulpine nervously watched the Arctic animal chug his vodka. "...Well, at least we would have died with a good tan?" Nick tried to joke, having a hard time imagining what kind of horror that type of weapon could bring to the world.

Letting off a grunt of agreement as he placed his now empty glass down, the white-pelted ursine decked in a fine blue suit with numerous pieces of gold jewelry nodded his head. "Fortunately for everyone, it never came to be," he said as he clasped his paws together again, the black crown mark on his left ring finger more prominent against so much white fur. "It's thanks to Officer Fox here, that the beast was defeated and his weapon put out of commission for good; the infernal machine turned into so much slag within the molten rock of the volcano."

His emerald eyes gazing over to the newspaper once more, Nicholas couldn't help bit whistle. "Damn, Carm... you truly are awesome." He reached his right paw out and took hold of the periodical. Bringing the printed paper close to his face, the male red fox looked over the photograph on the front page with interest. "Seriously: why hasn't the media been sharing news like this about you with Zootopia!?"

The woman pursed her lips as she considered that inquiry. "There's a saying by an author I once read," Carmelita closed her eyes as she thought back to that statement. "That truth is stranger than fiction, for fiction has to make sense but the truth doesn't." She then looked at him with one eye open. "You tell me how many animals would be willing to believe stuff like that. Most mammals jokingly state that the government is corrupt but until they see how badly corrupt, they won't truly believe it."

Snorting in disgust, all the male fox could murmur was, "Believe me... I know how corrupt some of those bastards are..." he placed the newspaper back atop the owner of the Snow Palace's desk. "Still, at the very least they should be talking about you took down one of the most dangerous criminals of all time!"

"Clockwerk was less criminal and more of a megalomaniacal monster," the polar bear replied as he motioned for one of his men to bring over another bottle. Taking it after the guard pulled the top off for him, Tundratown's Mr. Cold began to pour himself another drink. "A monster that sought to destroy all others and take the world for himself. I followed through with his orders simply because it was a choice of either living as long as possible or dying early at the talons of that fiend." Picking up his glass he then downed his fourteenth vodka of the night.

Although the tundra mammal was an admitted criminal in his youth back in Russia, the Hispanic vixen found she couldn't hold such against him. From the story he shared, she could understand that he had no real choice except, 'serve or die'. "And I take it besides wanting to get away from those who would take out their anger at Clockwerk on you, you chose to leave your homeland to start anew for Morris' sake?"

Placing his now empty glass on the table, the polar bear exhaled, allowing the burn of the throat to settle for a moment. He then nodded his head towards the vulpine woman as he began to refill it once more. "Dah. In what I felt would be the final years, I settled on finding whatever comforts I could in being the bookkeeper for that damn owl. I found my peace with Meri..." he couldn't help but smirk a little. "Never tell my son this, but she was an exotic dancer at one of the many, and I mean many clubs I ended up owning in a valiant effort to try and launder the funds we got from selling the diamonds the mechanical menace discarded as useless." His smirk became more of a soft smile, as if he were caught in a pleasant memory. "And after a year of dating, I discovered that she was expecting..." shaking his head, the ursine murmured, "At the time, such new broke my heart, knowing I would be bringing a life into this world before it had a chance to truly live."

Carmelita nodded her head in understanding at hearing that. He really did feel it was the end of the world and that he was having a child in such circumstances would be worrisome. "Honestly, there's nothing wrong with the woman you settled with either." So what if she was an exotic dancer? Even if the woman was a prostitute, it wasn't like that stuff was illegal in Russia or other parts of Europe, after all...

...Something the Latina vulpine had learned the hard way after she busted up more than a few gigolos, only to find out afterwards that their profession was indeed a legalized and taxed one. I'm just lucky those I did bring down were carrying narcotics at the time, she couldn't help but mentally add in relief. She could have been in big trouble for police brutality otherwise.

"Of course there's nothing wrong with! Unfortunately, there are certain connotations about the profession Stateside that I would rather not have tainting Morris' memories of his mother," the polar bear stated seriously. "As it was, once you saved us from Clockwerk, I organized the Bratva and the decision was unanimous: it was time to get out of the game. We sold all our real estate in Russia and transported all our frozen assets while using the money we had to set up operations here in the Zoonited States." He smirked. "We only happened to end up settling within the Tundratown District of the Zootopia City-State because they asked far, far less questions than the federal government did. The Zootopia officials only saw the money and were more than willing to make deals to get as much of it from us as they could."

A small if not sad chuckle reverberated in the white-pelted ursine male's throat. "Unfortunately, you can't outrun your past. We might have left Russia but we had a certain... shall we say, reputation that followed us. Many of the locals were worried about what our presence would mean for them and their homes and so while we tried to go as legitimate as far as ex-cons can..." he shrugged his shoulders. "Besides the Snow Palace Resort and my diner in Tundratown proper, I do have Zootenial: a private loans office that specializes in aiding predators specifically. Sadly, old habits die hard and when mammals refuse to pay their debts, some of the boys get a little overzealous in taking retribution."

"Which is why I was quite happy to get you guys off my back," the male red fox interjected in a rather joking fashion. Although let it be known that paying off former members of the Russian mafia for a loan in a timely manner was no joking matter. Nicholas P. Wilde happened to enjoy his kneecaps unbroken, thank you very much!

To that little comment, the buff polar bear nodded his head in agreement. "Quite," he murmured as he took a casual sip from his glass. "And thanks to you, our loan operations have been... shall we say... far more lucrative than usual."

Needless to say, that little bit of gratitude caught the male vulpine by surprised. He had no idea just how he could have done something that was useful for the tundra carnivore outside of paying off the bit of interest he built up as well. "Me?" The canid con-mammal squeaked out in shock. "But all I did was pay you back!"

"Not that, you fool," was the large polar predator's rather curt response. "It was the fact that we were willing to loan out money to a fox to begin with resonated with a lot of our fellow carnivores. After all, if we are willing to work with foxes, we're willing to work with anyone," he explained. "From there, we were able to deal with more predators on a personal level. Sure, some of the boys may need to be reminded that we don't go breaking legs anymore but the fact is it has become lucrative enough that we might just open an actual establishment to work out of rather than renting out a meat-locker as a place of business." He smirked. "That will show those bunny bastards at the Snow Bank how to really work with the locals if they have to deal with a little friendly competition"

Such a comment caught the navy blue-tressed vixen's immediately. So even though she felt it might be crossing the line, the Latina vulpine couldn't help but inquire, "So... you only have intention of trying to muscle in on the Velveteen family's monopoly than you do Mr. Big?"

The polar bear snorted. "Dah. The worst of all this? The shrew could do whatever he wants in Tundratown, I really don't care. My men and I are so firmly entrenched with the locals that there's only so much he'll ever get out of the District. What he does with what my people haven't managed or even given a fuck about is fine with me." He couldn't help but let off a throaty growl. "But the damn vermin is a greedy piece of paranoid shit and will accept a peace on only one condition."

The female red fox frowned; it seemed that while the man was trying to distance himself from his past, the crime boss that came in from Little Rodentia wouldn't let things be. "What condition is that?" She queried, wondering if it could be used to help aid in an investigation if such ever came down to it while she was still in Zootopia.

The expression on the ursine's muzzle pulled back into a frown. "He wants me to be his underboss. He has lacks the imposing physical presence required to force his will onto others and so wants me as his public face..." the polar entrepreneur's upper-lip curled back in a snarl, showing off his sharp teeth. "I strong-armed into doing similar for Clockwerk for a decade! A decade! I spent the best years of my youth being a puppet for someone and I refuse to do it again!" He shouted, causing both vulpines to jump slightly in their seats as he slammed his glass atop his desk hard enough to break it to pieces and the alcohol still it to splash about.

The woman just sat there, watching the much larger predator trembled with barely restrained rage. She understood the kind of effect that mechanical monster could have on animals. "I... I don't blame you," Carmelita said after a few minutes. "I would personally rather the crime bosses all end up behind bars but..." she trailed off, knowing that such wasn't going to happen any time soon.

The polar bear snorted. "Difficult to do when the public often trusts them more than they do their elected officials who they know abuse their authority," Kozlov finished the sentiment for her as he held up his right hand, allowing one of the guards to come by and use a handkerchief to carefully dry it of the spilt liquor and clean it of the broken bits of glass. Once his fellow polar bear stepped back, the resort owner took hold of the bottle and took a drink from it directly.

Watching as the large predatory mammal chugged the remaining contents, the Latina vixen took a deep breath to keep her thoughts steady while her chocolate eyes darting over to Nicholas for a moment to make sure he was handling this sit-down with the former mafia boss. Seeing him nod his head at her, the woman took a deep breath and continued, "Still, I am glad to hear that you have held your ground against the active criminal's demands."

Lowering the now empty vodka bottle from his lips, the polar bear nodded his head as he stared at the smaller woman with is deep brown gaze. "No kidding. I don't care what he does to threaten me personally. I've lived a hard life and am willing to deal with any problems he might try to send my way..." the fire in his eyes dimmed a bit. "But not my Morris. After losing my wife two years ago to cancer, my son is the only immediate family I have left. If Mr. Big's thugs had successfully kidnapped him... I wouldn't have had a choice. I would be working for the damned rodent and he would be getting a piece of the Snow Palace if not all my businesses."

Pushing his seat back and standing up, Kozlov walked around his desk, coming to a stop beside the off-duty ZPD officer. "Whether intentional or not, you my dear Inspector Fox, have done me a great service once again. First you destroyed my tormentor and gave me the opportunity to flee the old country and now you allow me to keep the life I've built here for myself, my brothers-in-arms, and most importantly, my son."

Tilting her head back, the woman met the much larger predator's stare as he stood to her left. "No matter who it is, my first priority as a police officer is to protect people's livelihoods," she stated resolutely. "You might have a checkered past but your son is an innocent. I would have done the same for any other child if they were in that situation." She gazed over to her fellow red fox for a moment and smirked. "Not to mention Wilde here did give me a hand so he deserves some of the credit... even with those noodle-like girly arms of his."

Rolling his eyes, the male vulpine grumbled out in a petulant tone, "Oh hardy-har-har!" He pouted as his left ear twitched in irritation. "It's not my fault I never had much time for physical exercise! I started working at twelve-years-old to make ends meet! I didn't have time to play sports, exercise, or any of that crap while I was chasing the almighty dollar!" He stated in defense of his scrawny muscles.

"Still," Kozlov continued. "You have done far more for me personally than most who actually know or even work for me. The Bratva has owed you an Honor Debt for eight years now and you have further compounded interest by saving my son this night. Really, there's only one thing I can do to even make amends at this point..." he said as he brought his left hand up to the collar of his ice blue turtleneck and pulled it down. His fingers felt along some of the chains that rested on his neck until he pulled a thin gold link up. Using both hands to undo the clasp, he held the strand of gold jewelry in view of the woman in his right paw as his left reached over to his desk, for the signet ring that he had taken off earlier to reveal his crown tattoo.

He threaded the chain through the opening of the band not once but twice, clasping it today again to make it look like a dual-chain necklace. "Officer Fox, you are one of us," he said firmly as he brought it down over the head of the surprised vixen. Once he had it resting on her shoulders, he used one paw to pull the length of her navy blue tresses out from underneath to allow the length of precious metal to weigh down on her neck. "Even if not by blood, you are a member of the Kholodno. You are family."

The former mafia boss-turned-entrepreneur straightened up, allowing the implications of what he told the shocked canid to sink in. "That ring will give you full access to the resort and its amenities as well as open a lot of otherwise locked doors. Not just in Tundratown but all over Zootopia. The name of the Kholodno holds weight in this city and you will find this a useful tool... as is only proper as a symbol of your authority among us."

The female red fox's jaw moved up and down silently, unable to say anything in response. Slowly though, as the seconds ticked on, words slowly began to find their way to her tongue. "I... uh... I have no idea what to say..." she admitted. She could only imagine the massive fit her family would have if they found out their little Carmelita was being treated as the Patron Saint of the Russian mob!

Seeing the expression of worry that graced the Latina vixen's face, the larger predator tried to offer her a warm smile; an impressive fear for a cold-oriented carnivore. "If it eases your conscious, I have been going legitimate. As I have stated, it's just been taking longer to go legit than I would care to admit," he said with a shrug. "So please, you need not worry. You can trust me, Inspector Fox. After all, in a prey-dominated society like Zootopia, we preds need to stick together. So if you have a problem, need advice, or tax guy... or simply need a dead body to disappear, you will always find you have a friend amongst us willing to lend a helping paw."

"...The fact you said you would help hide a dead body doesn't reassure me that you've gone completely legit," the Hispanic woman replied in a rather flat tone. At least he didn't offer to kill anyone for me, she mentally added with a little relief, however minuet such ease was.

A chuckle reverberated in the larger polar predator's throat at the woman's response. "As I said, it takes much longer to go fully legitimate than I would care admit," he repeated meaningfully. "But I kid you not when I emphasize how important you have been to us, to me. My men and I would never, ever do anything to jeopardize you or your reputation," he said meaningfully, letting her know he understood that it could be bad for her standing as a policewoman if it was openly known that the former members of the Kholodno Bratva would be at her beck and call if she needed it.

Although that eased her worry about things a bit more, the thought of the mafia being indebted to her left a bad taste in the vixen's mouth. Sure, she had dated a master thief but she wasn't a criminal in the slightest! What would other animals say if they caught wind of this? "I'm going to need some time to think about it..." she finally replied, the vulpine woman feeling weighed down by everything that she was being told. If anything, Carmelita needed to call Bentley for more information about this.

Nodding his head in sympathy for the woman's torn feelings, the polar bear replied, "That is understandable. Besides, you have had an exhausting day. Being through two shoot-outs within the span of less than twenty-four hours will take their toll on even the most jaded of veteran soldiers or police. That you have remained mentally sharp during all of this is testament to your strength of character and will. It would be selfish of me to push any further at the moment." He clapped his hands together, "So please, rest us. Stay the night at the Snow Palace on us; free of charge. I'll comp anything you need or request of the establishment."

That further offer made the vixen wince. She knew the polar bear thought he owed her such and a great deal more but a part of her hated the thought of actually indulging in this questionable line of thought. Even if it was for a simple one night stay, such was a slippery slope to possibly more dangerous temptations down the road. "I do admit that I'm rather flattered by all of this, but—"

"She'll take it," Nick interjected, answering for her.

Turning to stare at her fellow fox with a look of bewilderment, the Hispanic vulpine could only shout, "WILDE!?"

Meeting the woman's chocolate gaze with his emerald eyes, the troublesome tod explained, "Trust me on this one, Carm. You are beat–and I mean tired, not defeated. I doubt we'll have an easy trip back to Happytown at the moment that won't take hours upon hours." He shook his head. "We'll all be much happier... and likely safer from the immediate retribution of Mr. Big," he stated pointedly. "If we just lay low for tonight and rest not only in comfort but style."

"Quite so," the owner of the Snow Palace replied. "Unless Mr. Big can somehow get the ZSA, Chinese, or Russian militaries to invade, he and his men can't get within ten feet of this place to cause trouble without being seriously outmanned and outgunned," he said his chest puffing out with pride, offering the smaller woman a sharp-toothed grin.

Although she had really wanted to just go home, drop into bed, and forget this day ever happened, the Latina policewoman could see both men's points. Those thugs of Mr. Big's had been very upset about her presence in Tundratown–especially after she brought two of them down during the confrontation. She held no doubt that they wouldn't be raring to get more men together and cause trouble. So taking a deep breath, the vulpine with navy blue tresses relented, "Okay. Since you're both so adamant, we'll stay for the night," she said hoping to appease both men. "But only for the night. We'll head out first thing tomorrow morning."

Clapping his paws and rubbing them together, the polar bear replied, "Excellent. I have just the room in mind. I'll have Vinsent escort you to the front desk and you two can get settled, try to relax a bit..." he smirked. "Or I can send just set you up and put Nick in closet somewhere."

The male vulpine immediately deflated. "Oh come on, Kozlov... a closet? Really?"

Raising an eyebrow as the hustler tried to give him that, 'sad puppy-eye' look, the ursine meaningfully replied, "Wilde, I've seen you sleep in a desk drawer. A closet would be a step up from your usual lifestyle."

Turning her head to the right to firmly look at the vulpine sitting in the chair next to her, the vixen couldn't help but repeat, "Sleep in a desk drawer?" What kind of ghetto life was Nick living anyway? She had gotten the idea it could be bad for foxes in Zootopia but that demeaning as well? Suddenly, that comment he made about having a problem with his living arrangements took on a whole darker connotation to the Hispanic beauty.

"Not like it was my idea to sleep in a desk drawer, but you know how hard it is for a fox to find even half-decent housing in this city," Nick said in response to the larger man's jab, unknowingly confirming the vixen's worries for him. No, instead his focus was the need to get them out of the bear's office. The retired Russkaya mafiya boss could drink like a fish! Sure in the beginning he was a happy drunk but after a certain point, that joviality could get a bite to it... any past that point, and Kozlov became a mean drunk.

And the canid con-mammal did not want to give the large predator an excuse to keep drinking while they were present!

Looking over the vulpine male for a moment, the polar bear eventually shrugged his shoulders. "Dah, I suppose you are right..." he then looked up to one of the ursine men who had been posted as guard; one of his most trusted employees and the resort's head of security. "Vinsent!" He called out to his right paw mammal.

"Yes, Boss," the polar bear with a burn scar along his right eye responded as he straightened up where he stood, fixing his posture to appear more presentable. "How may I be of service, my Pakhan?"

Motioning to the two vulpines still sitting down before his desk, the boss requested, "Please. Take these two to the front desk. Let concierge know they are to give our esteemed guest... and Wilde..." he added, making certain to emphasize there was a considerable difference in level of importance. "The Luxury Presidential Suite. I'll comp any and all charges for anything they need while they stay the night."

"Certainly." He may not have understood why his boss would feel so emboldened to appease the vixen when she was obviously just doing her job at the time, but as long as it was just a room and room service, he was certain no one was going to raise complaint to the big man. After all, it likely couldn't get as expensive as the last time Kozlov told them to comp charges; specifically, when he got drunk and hit on the whole female staff after all.

The anniversary of his wife's death was always a rough time on the boss.

Motioning for the two to follow him, the white-pelted ursine in black suit and green turtleneck replied, "If you would please be so kind Miss Fox... and Wilde..." he added the canid con-mammal's name as an afterthought. "Come this way and follow me."

Nodding her head, the Latina policewoman carefully slid off the chair she had been settled in for the longest while. As she landed on the ground with her fellow red fox, the woman couldn't help but quiery, "Hey, Nick... any clue where Finnick and the other are in all this?"

Smirking, the male vulpine in Hawaiian shirt and striped tie couldn't help but reply, "If I know my heterosexual business partner for life - and I am darn certian I do - then he's probably in the spa being pampered by Cherry... which will probably lead to one thing or another later."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Nnnngh!" Finnick groaned in delight, his orange-hazel eyes rolling up into the back of his head while his body shook in pleasure as he laid atop a massage table, his scalp laying into the headrest. "Ssssuuuuooooo guuuuud..." were the slightly intelligible noises that came together to portray his approval of his girlfriend's magic fingers.

Holding a bowl of fruit that she had been feeding the man as her youngest sibling went to work on the fennec, the eldest sister of the Arctic vixen trio leaned in to whisper to the middle child of the siblings, "I guess he needed that massage," Vanilla chirped as she watched Cherry ran her hands over his feet.

Nodding her head, the youngest of Kozlov's Angels replied, "My poor little guy! He has so many cramps in his feet that I'm surprised he can walk at all!" Oh just what was Nick putting her special little guy through lately? Well, what is he putting my man through that doesn't involved bullets flying? She mentally amended.

"Yuuuusss..." the desert fox moaned as she worked out a particularly tough cramp in his left foot.

Watching the petite vulpine amongst them turning to J-ello in his girlfriend's grasp, Angel smirked as she leaned in to whisper to her eldest sister, "I'm just waiting around to see what happens when Cherry accidentally touches is butt."

Vanilla couldn't help but chuckle. Honestly, she wanted to see how bad it was too.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As Carmelita pushed the door opened, she and Nick were greeted by a lot of light. Despite it being night, the combination of the hotel being situated up high in the hills and the large bay windows that faced towards the West allowed for the most beautiful view of sunset. The natural illumination highlighted the deep wooden furniture with no pits or stains in them, with coverings so white it was like nothing had ever touched them to befoul them. There were no stains on the plush white carpets, almost as if they were just laid. It was a room so pristine there was no unnatural smell of cleaners to be had. Just the cool, clean air of the Tundratown District.

Everything was so clean that Inspector Fox had to wonder if they weren't the first mammals to ever use the place.

She was taken out of her mental reverie when the polar bear with the facial scar that served as head of security for the Snow Palace chimed out, "Enjoy your stay. If you need anything, feel free to call for concierge for room service."

The woman blinked her eyes, her mind slowly registering what the former Bratva had told her. "Um... yeah..." the Hispanic vixen murmured as she continued to look around, stunned by the suite's level of luxury. It might have been pretty Spartan but everything was of the highest quality imaginable. She was pretty certain one of the couches alone cost more than her annual salary with Interpol.

Her fellow male fox however, was more interested in the kitchen he could see coming off the Eastern wall of the living room. Is... is that a minibar?" Nick asked as he walked towards some plush white seats to get a better look at the area. Seeing a tavern-style counter top and specialized cabinetry that hung on the wall, his viridian eyes lit up, shining like emeralds in the noon-day sun. "It is! Dibs! I call dibs!" He chimed out as he ran towards it with such enthusiasm and delight that one might think he were but a kit in a candy store.

Watching her fellow red fox climb the lower set of kitchen cabinets for a moment to get to the hanging cabinet, the vulpine then turn to Vinsent, nodding his head. "That will be all. Thank you." As the polar bear grunted in response and exited, closing the door behind him as he did, the Latina beauty couldn't help but question, "Dibs? Nicholas, what're you... talking... about..." the Interpol Inspector trailed off as she saw Wild throwing open the doors of the mini-bar and immediately begin to raid it as if he were the hero protagonist in some videogame. "Nick! What do you think you're doing!?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?' The male fox replied as he folded up the bottom of his shirt into sack-like shape as he gently dropped mini-bottles liquor into it. "This is complimentary so I plan to—SQUEE! Toblerones! I LOVE TOBLERONES!" He squealed like a fangirl as he held up the triangular chocolate bar filled with shaved bits of nougat, honey, and almonds. "Gouda All-Bitey, I can never seem to find these things anywhere BUT in hotel mini-bars! Just what is up with that, am I right?"

"I... I have no clue," Carmelita admitted as she walked further into the room, her chocolate eyes darting about as she took in the view of her surroundings. "I just want to get this off my chest first." Taking a deep breath, she could only say, "Wow!" She stated firmly. As the male vulpine stared at her, she blushed slightly before adding, "What? It is an amazing room. I can only imagine how our friends would react if they saw where we were right now."

"Finnick would tell me," Nick coughed to clear his throat to try and deepen his voice, "Nick! Steal everything that's not nailed down! Yes, even the ashtrays. Heck, steal things that are nailed down if you can!" He smirked and then sweetly added, "And I would have to point out that I didn't bring anything with me that could hold that much." Because he was honestly considering his partner-in-semi-crime's words of wisdom truly wise right now.

The vixen couldn't help but narrow her eyes at the male red fox's blatant disrespect for the law. "Yes, it's a good thing that you only have enough room in that shirt to run off with stuff that is meant to be taken... especially since you're admitting all this to a police officer," she stated firmly, letting her fellow vulpine know exactly what she thought of that.

His ears perking up at the dangerous tone to the woman's voice, the con-mammal chuckled nervously. "Oh come on, Carm! Let me live a little!" He begged as he started sliding triangular chocolate bar after three-sided-chocolate bar into the upturned hem of his shirt. "I mean, this is chocolate infused with the triple-threat of nougat, nuts, and honey! How could you hold it against me!?" Especially since he was the one that was going to forgo his shirt and risk pneumonia so he could have a make-shift sack to carry all the mini-bar goodness he could home with him! Then again, maybe I could walk out wearing one of the bathrobes if they're small enough, he thought in a most devious fashion.

Shaking her head, the woman exhaled in exasperation. Staring at him, she warned the man, "I mean it, Nicholas Piberius Wilde. Don't go taking anything you shouldn't."

Taking his right paw off the hem of his Hawaiian shirt and carefully balancing the mini-bar bounty with the grasp of his left, the male red fox waved off his fellow vulpine's worries. "Relax, relax! I won't!" He promised her. "That's just not my way! But I guarantee you I am going to leave this place that much richer in alcohol and sugar!" He cackled before turning back to the mini-bar to toss the mini-cartons of chocolate milk into his pile for good measure.

Bringing her right hand up, Carmelita growled in irritation as she slowly rubbed her head with her paw, her left ear twitching off as it lowered to the side. "I wonder if this is how corrupt cops start out..." she murmured, remembering all the times that Sly would tease her about such things... which really, should have been the a big tip-off that the raccoon was lying about his amnesia in the first place.

With that thought in mind, she brought her hand down and from her head, the woman brought it to her chest and grasped the large ring in her hand as it hung form the gold chain. It would have been large enough for her wrist to use as a bracelet if only her hand were small enough to slip through. She couldn't help but look over the sigil that graced the signet ring: a church with three cupolas and a cross in the center of the building. It amazed her how something so steeped in criminality could have such religious ties.

It certainly made Officer Fox wonder just how much overlap there was in her life since Cooper came into the picture.

Such worries were derailed when a loud cry tore through her consciousness. "Oh my goodness!" Nick shrieked out as he leaned into minibar fridge. "Could it really be..." his jaw dropped. "Holy crap, it is! This is a Royal DeMaria!"

The Latina vulpine blinked her eyes a few times in curiosity. "Royal DeMaria? What's so special about that?" She queried. At the shocked look the male fox gave her the woman replied, "What? Just because I lived in Paris for the past eight years doesn't mean I was much of a wine snob. I just drank a little now and then on special occasions." Then, as an afterthought, she added, "And even then I was more of a champagne fan."

Realizing he had to be the one to break it to her, the male fox stammered out, "Carmelita, you need to understand! This is Royal DeMaria! Ice wine!"

That bit of information made the woman blink her chocolate gaze in genuine surprise. "Ice wine?" She repeated. Ironically, it would make sense that the Tundratown inhabitants would be a fan of such a drink that used, 'ice' in its title. "What's so special about it?"

Deciding to educate the poor naïve vixen, the pawpsicle hustler opened his shirt, carefully dropping the other goodies onto the countertop he'd been standing on. Turning to face his female friend, he then explained, "This is a dessert wine that is made from grapes frozen on the vine before the fermentation process begins; the process of getting enough grapes that aren't ruined by this natural cooling process makes them incredibly scarce. This Riesling alone costs thirty-thousand dollars! You could buy a Mini Cooper for that price!" He smiled and shook in a rather giddy fashion, practically bounding on the heels of his feel as he looked over the wine. "Hell, I could resell this elsewhere and make a pretty—"

"Put it back," Carmelita said firmly, interrupting his spiel. "Now."

The male fox gawked at the woman's command. "But Carm! This was in the mini-bar! It was meant to be taken! Kozlov even said he would comp any charges!"

"True, but I highly doubt the man would appreciate you billing him over thirty grand," the Hispanic policewoman retorted firmly. "Or would you like to end up one of those frozen iced bodies recovered from underneath Tundratown's public skating rink?"

That realization made the male fox blink his eyes. She certainly had a point there. "...Can I at least drink it then?" Seriously, if he couldn't sell it for fear or unleashing a former Russian mob boss's rage, he had to have a taste of this. It had to be way better than any regular swill that he could get at any of the bars in the Downtown District!

Although the Latina vulpine visibly relaxed as Wilde dropped the idea of wanting to make a quick fortune off of someone else's generosity, she still felt the need to calmly remind him, "Again: you would be sticking a retired mafia boss with a thirty-grand bill."

His ears lowering to the sides of his head, male vulpine frowned. True, while he wouldn't be getting money off of re-selling it, Kozlov would still be losing a good deal of cash. "Fine, fine..." he grumbled in annoyance. "Maybe I should... oh, hey!" He put the bottle away and pulled out another one. "How about we open this one? It's far more reasonably priced stuff. Only three-hundred bucks a bottle!"

Coming around the bar counter, the vixen soon climbed up onto the kitchen countertop to join Nick by the mini-bar. She raised an eyebrow as she looked at the red wine he was holding. "Bertani Amarone?"

Nodding his head, the male vulpine chirruped, "Italian: 1990 vintage." He affirmed as he held up the bottle and shook it slightly. Giving her a mischievous smile, he couldn't help but query, "Care to share?"

Taking a deep breath, the woman brought her right hand up to her face and pinched the bridge of her muzzle right beneath her eyes in an effort to avert an oncoming headache. "You know what? If it will get you to relax and stop trying to pick up everything from the mini-bar, then fine. We'll split it. Okay?" At least if she could tell the polar bear she partook of it, she doubted the resort owner would make too much of a deal over a few hundred dollars when his business likely dealt in six digits monthly.

A wide smile blossomed over the crimson-pelted canid's muzzle. "Works for me," Nick admitted as he opened the wood cabinet to the left of the mini-bar. Smiling, he reached in and pulled out a pair of long-neck wineglasses. Setting them down on their bases, the vulpine immediately popped the cork. "Shall we?" He asked before filling the tall cylindrical drinking glasses with the burgundy-colored liquid.

"Sure," the orange-pelted vixen replied as she carefully took one of the glasses in hand.

Turning about to sit down on the kitchenette countertops with their legs over the sides, the two foxes gazed from their perk towards the windows, the sun getting lower over the horizon and bathing the room in a deep orange light, the sensation warm despite being inside off a building that was primarily ice and snow. Holding up his glass, Nick offered the vixen a smile. "Cheers... here's to surviving what had to be the craziest day of our lives."

Nodding her head firmly, the female red fox caused her navy blue tresses to bounce slightly from the motion. "I'll drink to that," Miss Fox replied as she clinked her glass with Wilde's own. She then brought it to muzzle, the vulpine woman allowing the wine to sit and breathe so she could take in its aroma. "Surprisingly robust and savory... what do you think, Nick?"

The male fox, for his part, was merely chugging the wine as fast as he could drink it. Pulling the empty glass away from his lips, the male vulpine exhaled deeply in satisfaction, taking satisfaction in the tingle in left in his throat. "What was that? You say something, Carm?"

The vixen twitched slightly at how boorish he was with his drink. "...I swear to God, for someone who knows so much about wine you drink like an unsophisticated drunken lout." Yet another thing that he did which reminded her all too much of Sly... took her forever and a day to get him to take things slow. They didn't go out drinking often so they needed to savor the moment and treat it like the special treat it was.

The troublesome tod merely gave his fellow fox a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders. "What can I say? I'm not a rich and pompous jackrabbit so I'm going to drink how I want!" Nick proclaimed firmly. "Besides... mmm..." he smacked his lips, enjoying the aftertaste. "This is really good stuff," he murmured as he began to pour himself a second glass.

Watching as the male fox continued to attack the bottle with gusto, the Latina vulpine couldn't help but query, "So Nick, I take it you're a fan of wine?"

Shrugging his shoulders once more in response, the male fox admitted, "Any alcohol, really. As long as the amounts are copious and/or the price is low..." he chuckled as he filled his glass to nearly the brim. "And it doesn't get much better than free," he chirruped happily before he started downing the crystalline glass.

Staring at her fellow vulpine as he practically chugged, the female red fox couldn't help but roll her eyes before finally partaking of her own glass, daintily sipping of it. Her triangular ears twitched above her head in surprise as the sensations that hit her taste buds. Lowering the glass, the woman smacked her lips a couple of times, getting a real taste for what she had just drank. "Say... this actually is good."

"Yep!" The con-mammal stated in agreement with the lovely lady's observation. "I'm definitely not going to be legal to drive for a few hours after this." Nick chirruped happily, pleased with the buzz he was getting. "Or operate heavy machinery for that matter."

The woman nodded her head in agreement. "So it's a good thing we'll be sleeping it off," she said firmly. Taking a moment to swirl the contents of the wine in her glass a bit more, Carmelita turned her head to look at her fellow vulpine. "Say, Nick... do you know how to drive? Every time we've been together in a vehicle, it's always been Finnick that was behind the wheel... and I have a feeling there's more to it than just simple possessiveness of his van."

The male fox was silent for a moment, carefully mulling over his thoughts as he decided on a response. Finally, he told the vixen, "Well when it comes down to it... I know how to drive but I'm not licensed."

"Really?" The Hispanic vixen chirruped in surprise. "Well that certainly explain why Finnick has been the designated driver..." she murmured in understanding. "Still, that makes me curious. How come you never got a license? If you know how, it shouldn't be that difficult to take a test with the DMV and get certified."

Shrugging his shoulders, Nick slowly began to explain in a guarded manner, "It's not something that seemed all that necessary with Zootopia's major public transportation system in place. Besides, it's not that odd I don't have a driver's license. About only one in thirty predators have one... and it's only that high because of all the preds that ended up becoming cops."

Needless to say, that little fact caught Carmelita's attention. "Pardon?" She queried, the way he explained that ringing off warning bells in the back of her head.

Nodding his head slowly, the male fox reached over for the bottle and began to refill his glass, slower this time. "Predators never really drove or even bought cars in Zootopia before the Nineties. Tame collars made it all but impossible for them to drive. Whether it's a rise in one's heart-rate because of needing to make emergency maneuvers, enjoying the open lanes, or even indulging in a little bit of road rage... ZAP!" He turned his head to look at his fellow fox. "Trust me: a convulsing mammal has no control over their steering wheel or car pedals."

The truth behind the current statistic made Inspector Fox twitched with obvious irritation. She was seriously getting the urge to hope into the Cooper Gang's time machine, go back to the summer of '55, grab an old school tommy gun and deal with some issues...

Permanently.

But no... as much as she enjoyed the thought of following through with such a plan, the Hispanic vixen never would. Doing that would be bad and the place would probably end up with something far worse. For all I know, asking Bentley to take me back to do such could lead to a rise in a mafia presence that isn't as friendly as Kozlov, she thought with dread. Really, if it wasn't one thing with Zootopia, it was another.

So with that in mind, the vulpine woman began to chug her own glass in frustration, ignoring how Nick was cheering her on as she downed her wine. Gasping as she finished it, the woman held her now empty drinking glass out to her fellow red fox, asking him to, "Top me off."

"Sure thing!" Nick replied with a smile before he happily poured her another glass... and then another one for himself. Placing the bottle down and lifting his own glass, he lifted it up before his muzzle and grinned wider. "Ah... now this is how to live! Almost makes me forget all the crap that I've had to put up with so far."

Pausing in mid-lift of her glass, the woman tuned her head towards her current drinking-partner. Mulling over those words for a moment, she slowly nodded her head in understanding and sympathy. "Yeah. I can imagine that Zootopia has been a difficult place for predators–foxes especially–to grow up in. But tell me. You mentioned that you wanted to open a theme part just for carnivores?" She was hoping talking about such could cut him off before his current line of thought mixed with heavy drinking took him to terrible state of mind.

The mention of his amusement park caused a wide smile to spread across the male red fox's muzzle once more. Nodding his head, the crimson-pelted canid explained, "Wilde Times was my dream for the longest time. I remember how hard my childhood was? I admit, while things are getting better I know it's still rough. I wanted to give cubs and kits a chance to be revel in being themselves, you know? Give them and their parents a place where they wouldn't have to suppress their animal instincts and let them indulge in them! I had designs for a wooden roar-a-coaster, a yarn-filled ball pit, a log ride, a race track, free-range bumper cars... shoot! I even had the idea for a little karaoke howl studio for the canids out there–wolves in particular–to get their moon urges on."

Carmelita had to laugh at that last part. "Oh God! I can just imagine it! And all the broken glass from the howling."

"That was why I planned to make sure the room with the karaoke was reinforced with mattresses to muffle the rest of the place from their racket." Shrugging his shoulders helplessly, Wilde explained, "Hey, I can understand the value of letting dum-dums like wolves get their howl on. They'll be less likely to do it amongst other animals in public... but that doesn't mean other park attendees should be forced to listen to it while they're enjoying a chance to run around, scratch things, gnaw on fish jerky, and just enjoy that which makes us what we are: predators with pride."

Smiling at the exuberance her fellow red fox was displaying, the Hispanic vixen nodded her head. "A noble ideal indeed," she admitted in all seriousness, feeling a bit of pride that Nicholas could look past his own lot in life and desire to help others–even if he would have been making a few bucks off of it in the long run. "It's too bad you couldn't get anything going."

Sighing, male vulpine replied, "Tell me about it..." he was about to drink more of his wine, only to pause. Setting down the glass beside him on the countertop once more, he reached behind himself and carefully felt around. Withdrawing one of the oddly shaped candy bar boxes, he offered, "Toblerone?"

Looking down at the candy she was being offered, Carmelita considered it for a moment before nodding her head in affirmation. "All right. I'll split it with you."

The small smile on the male mammal's face blossomed into an outright mischievous grin. He slowly punctured the top along the ridged tear area and pulled it off, revealing the first brick of prism-shaped triangular chocolate. Breaking it off from the rest of the bar, he brought the piece up to and held it before the vixen's lips. "Now open wide and say, 'ah'..."

Although she couldn't help but roll her eyes, the Latina vulpine did smile back at her fellow red fox. "A~aahhhh..." she cooed out, playing along with him. Miss Fox wasn't sure if it was the atmosphere, the fact that she was starting to relax, or the wine at play but she felt it was nice to do something like this once in a while.

Gently placing the chocolate that was infused with fragments of sugary, candy, and nutty sweetness on her tongue, the male vulpine used his index finger to gently rub the piece of chocolate over the woman's taste buds, getting it to slowly melt little by little. Pulling his hand from her mouth, the mischievous red fox made a show of licking his fingertip before bringing that hand back to the woman's face once more. Cupping the underside of her chin, he moved her jaw up into place, carefully closing it. "That's it... savor the chocolate... and chew slowly."

Carmelita couldn't help but roll her eyes a second time. This man drank liquor as if it were water yet treated chocolate like one would fine wine! He has some really skewed priorities... the vixen thought as she did as told, chewing the piece of German chocolate. Admittedly, it was pretty good. aAlthough the Hispanic vulpine had to admit, she wasn't the biggest chocolate fan in the world, this was nice on occasion. She wouldn't tell Nick but this wasn't even the best chocolate she had ever had. Hard to beat genuine Swiss chocolate that was so rich that it covered your taste buds in such thick layer of chocolaty goodness that all you could taste for a week after that was the sweet, milky rich goodness of cocoa.

Watching as the woman enjoyed her piece of chocolaty bliss, Nick carefully slid a bit more of the bar out of its container before breaking off a piece for himself. Carefully sliding it onto his tongue, the man moaned in heavenly goodness. Damn, how he loved Toblerones. The only thing better than this would be his mother's fresh blueberry pancakes! Sweet Gouda, I haven't had fresh blueberries in years!

Watching her fellow fox revel in the joy he got from the German candy bar, the Latina vixen decided now might be the best time. He was relaxed from both sweets and alcohol and the revelry in remembering his dreams also helped ease his tension. The combination of such meant his lips might now be a bit looser. Miss Fox didn't want to worry him but there was something that Kozlov had said which had bothered her and she wanted clarification. "Say... Nick?"

"Mmmhmmm?" Was the male fox's response as he finished swallowing, his right thumb already pressing against the triangular chocolate bar once more to break off another portion of sweet, sweet milk chocolaty goodness.

Making sure her voice was calm and even, the woman gently asked, "So what was Mr. Cold talking about when he mentioned you were a hustler involved in underhanded dealings?" She winced as she watched the male fox go stock-still as the fur on his tail poofed out completely. "...Nick?" She whispered his name quietly. That wasn't exactly the reaction she was expecting. Most animals who did shady dealings often felt ashamed if they were trying to go straight or maybe disgust for how they were. This was more akin to pure fear. But why would he be afraid, unless he's still hustling? Carmelita couldn't help but think. She hoped such certainly wasn't the case but still... it would have explained a lot.

His green eyes slowly swiveling towards her, the male vulpine put the chocolate bar down. Rolling his shoulders in their sockets, the crimson-pelted canid hustler did his best to suppress the shiver of dread he felt wanting to make its way up his spine. Taking a deep breath, the male fox replied, "It's been... complicated, to say the least," he began in earnest.

Nodding her head in understanding, the vixen with navy blue tresses calmly addressed, "We've got more than enough time right now." Her chocolate eyes stared into the other vulpine mammal's viridian gaze. "Come on, Wilde. I trusted you when you first offered me a hand with my stuff when I was trying to put my suitcase together after that asshole from Flamingo Flats threw it into traffic. Can't you give me the benefit of the doubt too?"

The male fox opened his mouth to respond... only to snap it shut. His shoulders sagging, the troubled tod had no way to really respond to that. It was true. She had no reason to trust him and gave it to him back then, even against her better judgment considering what she had just gone through. Still could he trust her to understand, despite being an officer of the ZPD? Unlike most times, when it came to the thought of, 'what's the worst that could happen'... well, he could think of quite a few things that could happen to him, and not all of them were pleasant. "Are you sure? I mean... you are a cop and all that."

Sighing at the man's nervousness, the vixen firmly met his gaze with her own. "Even if you were a criminal, you wouldn't be the first I've worked with and you won't be the last, I bet," she replied in all honesty. Offering him a smile, the woman added, "Hell... it's because of one of those, 'criminal connections' that I was actually talked into taking on this job in the first place."

That confession made the male predator blink his eyes. "Wait! I thought you joined the Mammal Inclusion Initiative because your boss made you?" He questioned in all seriousness. He remembered certain things that were said when he tried to pick up her uniform.

"He may have forced the issue to make me accept the position but my pal Bentley was the one who made it possible for me to come to terms with it..." she let off a little snort. "Otherwise I was going to fight Chief Barkly fang and claw until he chose someone else for this idiotic idea of Mayor Lionheart's."

Such a statement made the canid con-mammal blink his eyes once, twice, thrice. "...Huh. Really?" He considered that for a moment before letting off a chuckle. "Dang. Well I guess we should thank him. Since you've been here you managed to get so much in mere days... DAYS!" He straightened up where he sat next to her as he proclaimed, "Hell! I think you've done more in a few days than the entirety of the ZPD in a few months!"

Carmelita merely shrugged her shoulders at that; Wilde clearly had to be exaggerating. "Maybe. It's more likely that everyone was inclined to do what they're doing but needed a trigger to push them to do it." She then frowned sadly as she looked into his eyes once more. "And stop trying to change the subject, Nicholas. We were talking about you."

Realizing he had been caught, the fox in a Hawaiian shirt and tie couldn't help but cringe. He should have known it would be no use trying to pull the proverbial wool over the eyes of another fox. So taking a deep breath and exhaling to clear his thoughts and calm his nerves, the male red fox replied, "I've never done anything that is counted by the definition of illegal. Underhanded and illegal are completely different things. Sure, the morality of what I've done over the years is undoubtedly questionable but I never did anything to break the law." His ears lowered behind him, practically plastered to his skull. "It's been the only way to consistently make money to get by in this city."

Left unsaid was it was the only way to get enough money to take care of himself and... her.

As her friend prattled on, the vixen with navy blue tresses frowned slightly. It sounded like he was trying to justify himself. That was never a good sign. "What did you do? Sell bad products to your fellow mammals? Lie about said products? Steal credit card numbers and/or personal information?"

"...I make my own products and possibly charge more than they're worth," Nick replied in all seriousness. At the confused look she gave him, he replied, "As I said before, it's not like I'm doing so illegally. I do have a specialist vendor's permit and receipt of declared commerce all good for Zootopia. It's just..." he shrugged. "I cut corners here and there and make sure to get the biggest bang for my buck in all my venues of business."

The Hispanic vixen blinked her eyes once, twice. "...There's nothing wrong with that, Nicholas. It's called, 'Capitalism'." Good Lord! Was Zootopia so Liberal that they would become a Communist City-State beneath the veneer of being a hippy commune they portrayed to the rest of the Zoonited States?

"...Maybe?" The male red fox replied slowly. He then blinked his bright green eyes as what she was telling him started to penetrate his skull. "Wait, you mean that's how it's done in the rest of the world?" Granted it always felt wrong when he was doing such but when he actually said it out loud, it sounded a lot less terrible than it actually was.

As if to confirm his sudden confusion, the Hispanic vixen nodded her head. "More-or-less," she replied. "Animals who can't offer services for a living often buy resources at a low price, put them together however needed, and then sell the final product at a higher price to cover costs and make maximum profit."

His jaw dropping, it took Nick a moment to gather his wits. After a bit, he finally chirruped, "Holy crap! And here I thought I was the only one to have someone buy Jumbo Pops for them to melt them down into... smaller... icy..." he trailed off as he saw the woman staring at him with her wide brown eyes. "...That's not how others do it, is it?"

"...No... no it's not," the Latina vulpine replied with a twitched. "...That is what I would call incredibly questionable if not outright ghetto but it's certainly not illegal..." she sighed. "Can you at least promise me those pops are all natural... even with all the red dye number forty?"

"Yes," the male fox stated firmly. Everything from the cheap tongue depressors used as the sticks to the gutter leavings he melted them into to fill jugs at the bottom spouts was all, one-hundred percent natural something or another!

Nodding her head in relief, the off-duty policewoman replied, "All right. Is there anything else you want to tell me about, anything that worries you at all?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Nick replied, "Finnick and I do a number of odd jobs that others don't want and then make further profit from them. Like how we sometimes work at a sheep salon as janitors for minimum wage, only to use all the wool we cleaned out at the end of the day to sell to a t-shirt manufacturer for profit."

"..." Really, there was nothing the vixen could say as she tried to register the mental image of the pair of foxes using a large push-broom to roll shaven wool into the back of the fennec's old clunker of a van.

The rather perturbed stare made the male fox really uncomfortable if not self-conscious. "What!? They weren't using it for anything!" The male vulpine replied in his defense. "And besides, they didn't want it and the owners of the salon sure as heck didn't want it hanging around! All parties gave up any and all ownership of said discarded wool!" He cried out in exasperation, his heartbeat going faster as his body prepared for fight or flight... most likely flight as he fought not to drop any of his mini-bar booty.

Realizing how Wilde was starting to go on the defensive, she tried to diffuse his worries by explaining, "No, no... nothing like that, Nick," Carmelita promised her fellow red fox. "I'm just trying to imagine Finnick with a push-broom that is likely five sized-too-large for him," she replied honestly before shaking her head. "That is... er... questionable..." she said seriously. "I'm beginning to understand why you're worried. While none of what you've said so far is illegal it really does paint you in a poor light as a scheming, tightwad..."

"...I prefer the phrase, 'resourceful entrepreneur'," Nicholas stated in his defense.

"And I'm sure that mob bosses like the phrase, 'resource distributors' as well." Carmelita shot back, smirking at him. However, her smile died almost immediately as she saw the look of shame on his face. "Come on, Nick... it's not that bad. Sure, what you've done in pursuit of a buck might not have been good for yours or Finnick's reputations but you didn't do anything that bad." She then snorted. "And certainly not illegal!"

Although the next time he offered her a pawpsicle, she was going to think twice before accepting.

Raising his head, the male vulpine carefully met his fellow fox's face once more. "You mean that?" He queried, his tone that of disbelief. He had always heard so much in the way of rather nasty remarks while working that it seemed that he had to have been in the wrong. Even he felt dirty doing some of the stuff he had done, even when he justified it to himself... such as making certain to never lie to anyone who could pay him. No, his was just a form of creative truth-telling.

Nodding her head, the Latina vulpine firmly replied, "I do." The small smile that had been on her face when she had been teasing him returned. "Trust me. I would know better than anyone." Deciding to throw her fellow fox a bone, she admitted, "Hell, my last boyfriend was a wanted master thief."

That caught the male fox's attention, making him raise an eyebrow in surprise. "Really?" Nick almost wanted to make a joke about her ex stealing Carm's heart and never letting go of it but he managed to hold back...

Somehow.

Giving the male red fox a firm nod of her head, the off-duty policewoman explained, "Trust me. Sly Cooper was the latest in a long line of master thieves: an entire legacy that was steeped in supposedly, 'noble' criminals. He reasoned his lifestyle was righteous by following the creed that a master thief never steals from regular animals but instead target other master criminals." She frowned. "Either way, it was still breaking the law outright. Just because he did it to others who broke the law as well didn't mean he was justified to do so: two wrongs don't make a right."

Nick nodded his head in agreement. Admittedly while the male vulpine was upset to know that Miss Fox had a boyfriend at one point, he was interested in knowing more about this Cooper person. "Unless you live in the Chinatown, where all Wongs are rights."

Her ears drooping, Carmelita gave her fellow red fox a flat stare. "That's a bad joke." Not as terrible as Sly trying to fake an Italian accent but it was darn close!

Shrugging his shoulders in a nonchalant manner, the male fox replied, "Are bad jokes a crime?"

"No, but sometimes I think they should be," the Hispanic vixen replied before shaking her head; memories of a number of Cooper's flirty double-entendre coming to mind. Letting off a small sigh, she straightened up on the edge of the countertop before turning her head to look at the vulpine beside her. "But I mean it, Nicholas. I know what a real criminal is, all right? You are not a criminal..." she then smirked deviously. "An asshole, certainly, but not a criminal."

Managing a small smile of his own, Wilde tilted his head towards the lovely Latina lady and gave her yet another helpless shrug of his shoulders as he offered, "At least I'm not one-hundred-percent a dick."

The vixen with navy blue tresses agreed, "Of course not. Because then you'd be getting pounded down hard otherwise." She winked at him.

Nick blinked as Carmelita gave him a bemused grin. "...Well, that's one way to put it, I suppose," he murmured as he looked down at his Toberlone and the empty bottle of Bertoni Amarone for a few moments before raising his gaze to meet hers once again; green and brown meeting firmly. "...Any chance we can open another bottle?"

Considering that small request for a moment, the Hispanic vulpine relented, "As long as it's not the Royal, I don't see why not." She didn't want Kozlov decided to relive the 'glory days' by breaking Wilde's kneecaps over wasting three-thousand dollars on his dime.

Smiling in relief, Nick told her, "Thank you." After the way the day had gone, he was going to need to do a lot of drinking...

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Author's Notes: Happy Halloween! I may be a little late with posting this because of things, both good and bad going on in real life but I think considering the subject matter in the first half of this chapter, the release date is rather fitting. Your patience is very much appreciated.

In a lighter news, Furpocalypse was a blast but it did take up the time I needed to finish this chapter... and then dad had me working on the jeep with him all afternoon and evening but we have it turned back into a plow and ready for winter!

On a lighter note, I did meet a former Disney artist at the convention and I will hopefully have a nice pic of Carmelita in the ZPD uniform that has that classic Disney Animation flair. The artist had filled up the first day but she was willing to do take-home work.

Now for questions I have gotten in reviews. To answer Cerberusx: Carmelita's shock pistol IS at home on the charger. Yeah, she won't be leaving it at home from here on out if she can help it.

Also, to answer KhaosMaster: The phrase of, "pelt" is a general slur against Predators of any species. The majority of predators have fur pelts while prey are covered in various ways but very rarely fur outright with the exception of rodents and small forest creatures. You get more hair and leather from prey mammals more often than not. Hence why, "pelt" became associated with carnivores as a threatening slur to them.

Also I got a private message about the last chapter; the answer for which I will share here. I was asked what all the Russian titles for their mafia meant and here is a small explanation as it is also pertinent to this chapter as well

Pakhan : The Boss.

Derzhatel Obschaka : The bookkeeper, the money-lender, the second-in-command.

Avtoritet : The Authority, the Captains, the leaders of gangs on street-level if you will.

Brigadier : High Ranking Soldier

Bratok : Soldier

Brodyaga : Initiate

Well I hope all those answers help and that you, my readers enjoyed this chapter. Gouda willing, Chapter 15 should go up November 12th!

Remember, Try Everything... including delicious Bacon King sandwiches!