Author's note:
Wow. I can't believe it's been a year! Life has not been easy, as it probably hasn't been for you, either. I've been stuck on this chapter like my life has been, so I decided enough is enough and am publishing it. Some of it is the particular format I have adopted, I'll admit. At any rate, the next chapter has already been started, so without further ado, here is this– let's call it an intermission–chapter. I apologize for the delay. Thanks all of you for your support and for reading.
10:10 PM
Jack lay still in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. His mind kept racing through a miriad scenarios invariably ending with Matilda in the morgue. Was he being overly pessimistic?
He mentally slapped himself: Why hadn't he seen the attack coming? He mentally slapped himself again. How could he have? Who in their right mind would anticipate the chaos of the past twenty-four hours?
It was so frustrating. He knew with certainty the Barateans were not behind it. Nor were the Ruylanians; it's simply not how they played the game. It's not how anyone played the game. At least no one he had ever heard of, and he knew all the major players along with most of the minor ones.
Or thought he did. He needed to call—oh, bloody hell! Zootopia's 'secure communications' network, just a few hours ago believed the best in Mammaldom, had been dramatically proven obsolete. How else could anyone know Matilda, still on record as only his executive assistant, had been promoted to Director—and thus worthy of assassination—before the official memos were even written?
Blast! How could he expect to get anything done without bloody secure communications?
"Go to sleep, Jack," Skye murmured, lying next to him. "There is nothing you can do tonight."
He unclenched his paws. "I didn't mean to wake you," he apologized in a whisper. He rolled towards her, tenderly placing a paw on her belly. "You need your rest."
"So do you," she said, sleepily. "Or you are cranky all day."
Jack chuckled softly. "I don't get 'cranky,'" he said. "Disagreeable, perhaps. Maybe even angry. But never 'cranky.'"
"Well," Skye replied, turning away. "You need to get some sleep, or you will be 'not cranky' all day tomorrow."
Her long tail slinked around to bring him closer. The warmth of her bare, smooth hindquarters pressing against him had its usual effect. His paw ran down appreciatively over her hips.
"I don't suppose..." he began. She wiggled her rump and raised her leg slightly.
"Don't make me howl," she murmured. "I do need my rest, after all."
The vixen mirred quietly as he took her, her sounds apace with his motions, then crooning softly as he finished. He kissed her back and thighs before a strange thought crossed his mind.
"Were you faking it?" He whispered, less than half jokingly.
"I don't fake with you, Jack," she whispered back, then rolled over to look at him, her pupils large in the dark. "Why would you ask that?"
"Well," he said, hesitating, "Here I am, looking forward to spending the rest of my life with you, and I would hate for you to be... unsatisfied... for the rest of yours."
She smiled and kissed him. "That is so sweet, Jack," she said. "Don't worry: I am 'satisfied' with you."
"I am not, you know, too...small?"
"Oh, Jack," she giggled, rolling away again. "You are very well endowed for a rabbit."
Jack thought it best to count that as a victory.
10:15 PM
The infirmary took up the front section of the topmost level of the airship, the walk from the nightclub taking nearly ten minutes for the princesses at Abigail's best waddling pace. It was a strange journey, seeming more like a parade with the princesses as the main attraction in the procession. Crew members bowed to them and kept curious passengers from hindering their way. Alexandra's paws fidgeted a bit at all the attention though otherwise they all strode boldly—if slowly—forward.
As they approached the infirmary, the attendants at the entrance not only bowed but also clapped at their arrival. Chia found herself blushing at the spontaneous cheering. Before, there had always been a blend of caution with not a small amount of fear in the way others behaved towards her. But there had never been anything like this: Admiration.
She liked it.
Efficient as usual, Alexandra quickly found where Octavio was being treated by the head nurse–the Flight Surgeon was among the injured crew. Chia was impressed by the young bunny and looked at Abigail with admiration of her own. The pregnant doe certainly knew how to raise kits, something the wolfess had secretly despaired at the prospect of. They had been lucky to get her into their household.
As the group approached the proper examination room, they heard Octavio inside grunting with pain.
"Be still, my Lord," chided the officious voice of the head nurse, a beaver by the pitch. "Or I might poke something her highnesses have a use for."
"It is painful," the white wolf growled menacingly.
"Then take the anesthetic, my lord," the beaver retorted, not at all intimidated by her patient.
Chia laughed, walking in. "Lord Belyiklyk believes abstaining from pain killers teaches him how to avoid similar injuries in the future," she said.
The nurse bowed smoothly without missing a suture, a small chuckle escaping as she skillfully finished sewing a long gash on Octavio's thigh. "From the looks of all these scars, your highness, I don't think it's working."
Finally catching full view of her husband, Chia stifled a cry at the sight of all the blood matted on Octavio's fur.
"Most of this isn't his, your highness," the nurse quickly reassured the wolfess. "My lord has been lucky."
"Luck was not involved," Octavio said, haughtily.
"Where is Windbright?" Palila voiced with concern from the doorway, towering over everyone.
"Would Windbright be a snow leopardess?" inquired the nurse. Palila nodded. "They are bringing her stretcher up now," the beaver informed them.
"Is she hurt?" Abigail asked.
"Octavio..." Chia said, displeasure creeping into her voice. The white wolf grimaced, and not only because the beaver was laying in another stitch.
"I have every confidence she is all right," he said. "Ouch!"
"Make sure he learns his lesson this time," Chia firmly told the nurse, then went out to await her sister wife.
10:20 PM
Margaret wrapped her arms around Vince, kneading his shoulders while the buck breathed heavily against her neck. Her legs came over his buttocks, pulling him closer to her and making him groan with pleasure.
"You're incredible," he panted. "I'm worn out."
"I hope that's only temporary," she giggled, squeezing her thighs tighter. "A buck that can't satisfy a doe's natural needs—" she was interrupted by the front door bell.
Vince frowned when the chime sounded again. He gave Margaret a quick kiss, then got up and left the room while donning a bathrobe. The doorbell rang once more before she heard the sound of the front door opening.
Margaret was surprised not to hear Tom out protesting about the late-night visitors, seeing as he had company himself. Then again, he and Vince had been roommates several years and probably had an understanding about such things.
Not that there was much in the way of a commotion. Truth to tell, Margaret's ears didn't pick up any noise at all, and she was very good at eavesdropping. A few minutes of silence stimulated her curiosity enough to make her get out of bed.
She boldly strode stark naked into the living room, only to find Tom's date, equally naked, sitting on the sofa.
"Where did they go?" Margaret asked. The brown and white doe shrugged.
"Tom didn't say," she replied. "He and Vince stepped outside. Vince said not to follow."
Margaret frowned before sitting next to the doe. "So," she said, casually. "How do you know Tom?"
"I work at the station," the other doe replied, vacuously. "We're almost regular partners. Although I'm hoping to make that… exclusive... soon."
"You want to marry him?" Came the nearly hostile question from Margaret.
The doe nodded excitedly. "Better believe it, bunny," she affirmed, sitting up straighter, oblivious to Margaret's tone. "He's a great guy, a greater lay, and on his way up in the Network. Have you known him long?"
Margaret laughed, mirthlessly. "A few years," she said. "We are—were—occasional partners. But I like Vince more."
"You're into the mysterious type, eh?" the doe said, slyly.
"Vince?" Margaret dismissed. "I find him refreshingly honest and open."
"Oh. Do you know what he does for a living?" the other doe asked, conspiratorially. "I've always wondered. He doesn't talk about it and Tom won't say."
"He is a reporter of sorts," Margaret said, matter-of-factly though really just guessing from the afternoon's encounter with Trax. "For a website or something."
"Wow," the other doe said. "I didn't know the online media outlets paid so well. Maybe I should push Tom to do the same."
"What do you mean?" Margaret wondered.
"Vince owns this place, you know," the other doe said, knowingly. "Tom stays for free because he and Vince have been friends since they were kits."
Margaret shrugged, unimpressed; she already knew Vince owned the townhouse. "Buying a townhouse isn't all that hard," she mused.
The other doe giggled. "Not the townhouse, silly rabbit," she said. "The complex."
10:25 PM
Windbright was in high spirits, joking casually with the four smaller mammals carrying her stretcher. She grinned as she saw her sister wives waiting impatiently for her. "It is only a twisted ankle," she informed them as her stretcher was raised onto a wheeled bed. "But these valiant crewmammals insisted on carrying me here."
"You deserve no less, Master Guardian" said a bunny with a bloody, bandaged face. "We owe you our lives." He then kneeled before Chia. "We are honored beyond words that your Highness would spare your bodyguard to save us during this difficult ordeal," he said, head bowed with deep gratitude.
The wolfess blinked in confusion and Abigail burst out with laughter while Palila's eyes sparkled with mirth. Alexandra shook her head, smiling, and placed a paw on the crewbunny's shoulder.
"Thank you for taking such good care of Mother Windbright," she said, respectfully. The other bunny gasped.
"Mother… Windbright…?" he stammered, then he and the other three mammals that had been carrying the stretcher threw themselves face down onto the floor.
"Please, my lady…"
"We meant no disrespect…"
Windbright sighed. "Oh, stop that," she told them, sitting up. "I am still a member of the Snow Leopard Corps."
"You should not put yourself at such risk for the likes of us, my lady," the prone bunny insisted.
Something in the way the rabbit spoke, as if he were nothing but trash, struck a surprisingly sour note within Chia. She stood up straight, feeling as if waking from a dream, recalling the many mammals who had risked their lives protecting her pack over the past few hours–and not doing it out of fear.
"You are our subjects," the wolfess declared, every inch the Imperial Princess. "Citizens of the Baratean Empire. It is our duty… No. Our honor, to protect each and every one of you."
She turned to her sister wives, watching their eyes widen in surprise as her words sank in. She had never really considered her relationship to her subjects before, always looking down upon them as, well, nonentities of no value. Good for getting things at most. But she had changed somehow, coming to realize she now actually cared about the well-being of those prostrated mammals trembling on the floor, though she was not sure that was entirely a good thing.
Tears streamed down Alexandra's face and the young doe launched herself at Chia, catching the wolfess in a hug.
"I am so proud, Mamá," she cried.
WIndbright stood and hobbled over to the pair, patting the bunny affectionately. Then she sniffed and caught her breath. "I smell a cat on you, dear sister," she whispered in Chia's ear, horrified. "Did they…" Chia laughed.
"Oh, nothing so dramatic," the wolfess dismissed. "Just a little misunderstanding on the dance floor."
12:30 AM
He reached over and clicked the monitor off, too irritated to pick up the remote control from the floor next to the recliner. There was nothing on the news. Yet, he reassured himself. These things took time to percolate up the various news agencies. Especially through the layers of chaos spreading like wildfire throughout the Commonwealth.
Adding to his irritation was also that the Borealis Air team had not checked in, although he had basically written off that operation when he learned that the blasted White Wolf was aboard. Even with the odds of Belyiklyk preventing the success of the team being minimal at best, the slightest chance of failure was enough for him to write off the mission.
He chuckled, thinking of new possibilities. Perhaps it was better like this, anyway. The White Wolf could still be of use to him; the canine was so easy to manipulate and was now closer to the throne than ever expected.
He grunted. At best, The Pack had been nothing but a disappointment for the last few years and his patience, vast as it was, had limits.
Yes. It was time to shake things up in the North. Zootopia's downfall needed a good act to follow it.
12:35 AM
The bedroom door closed silently as Vince came back to bed. He took a moment to consider the naked figure lying there, trying to be objective and convincing himself all was under control. He sighed tiredly, laying down as quietly as he could next to Margaret. No sooner than his head hit the pillow, the doe turned towards him, kissing him softly on the lips, then working her way down his chest, his belly, and soon his malehood was in her mouth.
Thoroughly exhausted, he was half asleep, his paws absently caressing her head as she skillfully tended to him to no avail. Before he fully dozed off she hopped up and straddled him, laying her head down on his shoulder.
"Give me your kits," she whispered into his ear. Exhaustion forgotten, his malehood sprang to attention at once, poking her thighs as he turned over with her in his arms.
Now looming over the doe, he took her quickly for what would be the first of several more times that night. And while the look in Margaret's eyes would have instantly quenched even the hottest passion, the faint light shining from the alarm clock illuminated her body, without a doubt the loveliest Vince had ever seen. Not her face.
2:00 AM
It had taken hours for the team to accept that the passengers on the hijacked airships were of no consequence, Chief Bogo finally declaring that, with the exclusion of Lord Belyiklyk and his family, the passengers were completely ordinary. Marcus had similarly concluded the cargo was just as ordinary while Matilda had examined the air crews and the airships themselves in detail with the same results.
Finishing her latest cup of coffee, the ewe looked at the other two.
"It was the wrong question, Chief," she said, smiling at the yawning Cape buffalo. "Not 'why these six airships.' It's 'why these six airlines.'"
Marcus closed his eyes and sighed at missing the obvious. Baratea, Granterre, Assia, Presia, Beaverdam and Labtierre. "They're the National carriers of the only nations friendly to Zootopia," he said.
"Which have now been blown to bits by 'Zootopian terrorists,'" Chief Bogo finished with a disgusted grumble.
"This was a PR stunt," Matilda summarized, then yawned herself.
"But for whose benefit?" Marcus wondered, also yawning. Bogo stood up.
"I'll send a messenger to let the Mayor know what we found," he said. "I recommend we get some sleep while there's still some dark left in the night. We've all had a long day and we'll think better with clear heads."
2:35 AM
Leone sat on a chair outside of Matilda's apartment, one of two on the tenth floor of the mid-level Chrysanthemum Building in the Meadowlands. The other apartment was currently empty, its owners on vacation in Pawaii for another week.
The lion brooded, filled with a sense of failure for not protecting Matilda from the car bomb. He felt the only thing that kept away full-on depression was that the ewe had not suffered any serious injuries.
He had offered to be her driver in view of the shakeup underway in the Agency, then insisted on it when the Commonwealth began sprouting dead officials on every corner. But he had let himself be convinced by Matilda's logic that no one would consider a simple executive assistant a valuable target. It had taken the car bomb to make everyone understand how badly their communications were compromised.
What bothered Leone more was the discovery that the bomb had been detonated by a simple timer, not a remote. So. How did the unsubs know what time to set it for? Normally, Matilda would have either been home before the bomb detonated or at the office until much later.
Careful review of the CCTV footage showed exactly when the device had been planted. They even had a face to look for, though they held little hope of catching the would-be assassin. Leone was a trained agent and knew how long it took to plan and carry out such an op. Just how could the perp know the right time so far in advance?
What had saved Matilda's life was a random ZPD officer writing a traffic citation.
And that really scared Leone the most, he thought, before frowning at Matilda's neighbors' door.
At the far end of the hall, the elevator chimed, its brushed stainless steel door sliding open to reveal behind it the raised muzzle of a dart gun in the hoofs of a very large mountain ram, which under other circumstances would have been alarming. But the lion had been expecting company, not to mention he picked up Matilda's scent.
"You must be Marcus," he greeted, standing up.
"What are you doing here, Leone?" Matilda said, coming out from behind Marcus as the ram lowered the gun.
"Making sure you don't run into any more surprises tonight," Leone replied, shaking the ram's hoof.
"Apartment's clean, I assume?" Matilda asked. Leone nodded.
"And now under protective surveillance," he added. "Outside only, with Mark One Eyeballs—and hardwired panic buttons in the living room and bedroom." He looked at Marcus. "Any agents with you, sir?"
Marcus shook his head. "The only ones I trust as bodyguards are in Plainsville, and they won't get here until morning," he replied.
The lion sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that," he said, knocking on the vacant apartment's door.
The lock clicked and the lion opened the door, moving aside so Marcus could see in. "That means these aren't yours?" Leone said as the ram saw two hyenas, bound, gagged, and blindfolded on the floor.
Marcus shrugged. "Couldn't honestly say," he admitted, tiredly. "Though I didn't give any orders for agents to meet me, nor did I tell anyone I was coming here."
"Give them some pillows, just in case," Matilda suggested. "We'll sort them out in the morning."
Author's note:
Yup. A year. I truly hope you enjoyed it. The next chapter should be quicker...