The wheels on the police cruiser had barely screeched to a halt before Chief Bogo threw open the door and jumped out. He ran as fast as possible to the nearby wall, easily jumped over it, and drew his gun.

"Chief of police!" he screamed. "Get out of the way!"

In front of him, hundreds of mice and other similarly-sized mammals quickly obeyed, clearing a path for him. Bogo ran as fast as he could down the main road of Little Rodentia, gun at the ready, toward one of the more prominent buildings in the main square.

Even from a hundred yards away, he could easily spot the blur of black fur, lashing out wildly at the small residents all around. The black panther roared mightily, and slashed its claws into the buildings nearby, busting numerous tiny windows and leaving giant gashes in the concrete walls.

Bogo closed the distance between them with all the speed he could muster. Acting on instinct rather than thought, he leapt over one of the smaller buildings and readied his gun in mid-air. The panther saw his shadow, but barely had time to turn around and catch a glimpse of him, before he fired.

The tranquilizer dart dug into the panther's shoulder. The panther started to growl at Bogo as he landed in front of it, but only lasted a few more seconds before falling to the ground unconscious. Bogo waited a moment to make sure the panther was fully asleep, before finally allowing himself to relax.

Another one. He sheathed his gun, pulled out his cuffs, and approached the panther. How many more are there going to be…?

He found himself taking note of the panther's appearance as he put the cuffs on. The panther was a female. She was dressed in a dark blue business suit. Two little indentations on her snout indicated that she usually wore glasses; though those, of course, were nowhere to be seen now. She wore a wedding ring around one finger, and her claws were neatly trimmed short.

In her unconscious state, she looked like any other panther in Zootopia. Just another panther, with an average life. In fact, by all indications, she had a happy life. And yet, here Bogo was, having to take her down and take her away because she had gone savage.

He finished cuffing her, stood up, and slung the panther over his shoulder—which was almost effortless for him, thanks to his broad buffalo build—and turned around to start walking back to his cruiser. As he walked, he tried to ignore the hundreds of eyes that stared at him.

The rodents were silent as he walked past. Hamsters looking out their apartment windows, mice strolling on the sidewalk, rats standing on the roofs of construction towers, squirrels exiting a nearby shopping mall, shrews crossing a bridge between buildings beside him—all of them watched Bogo as he slowly took the panther back to his cruiser on the edge of Little Rodentia.

He knew what they were thinking. They weren't scared of the panther—not anymore, at least. No, they were scared of him. He was the chief of police, and right now in Zootopia, that was enough to make any predator scared. Little Rodentia, by definition, was made up almost entirely of rodents, and most rodents were considered predators by Mayor Lionheart's shock collar mandate, and so he had a duty to slap one onto every single little neck that he passed by.

Bogo had no interest in doing so. The whole shock collar situation rubbed him the wrong way, and while it was clear that officers from other precincts might be overly eager to execute the mayor's orders, he refused. It would do absolutely no good to put shock collars onto rodents, of all mammals, even if they were technically predators. And most importantly, none of them had done anything wrong, and he would never knowingly incriminate innocent people like that.

But he knew telling this to the many faces he passed by would only fall on deaf ears. So he stayed quiet, and instead focused on the job at hand: taking the panther back to the ZPD.

It only took a few minutes for Bogo to reach his cruiser. He had just picked it up from the body shop the previous morning. The rabbit had picked a good one; it was in even better condition than before she had stolen it to chase that crazed lion through half of Zootopia.

He carefully placed the still-unconscious panther in the back seat, then took a moment to gather his thoughts before entering the car himself. This panther was the fifth animal that had gone savage in Zootopia in the past twenty-four hours. He had taken down three of those by himself, and combined with the general unrest in the city, it was beginning to take a toll on his body and mind. More and more predators were being put into shock collars, per Mayor Lionheart's orders, and there were a growing number of mammals who refused to wear them, which only caused even more rioting and violence in the city streets. The city was very quickly shifting into a dystopia, and it made him feel both uneasy and nervous.

And if things weren't bad enough, Judy Hopps had disappeared after her stakeout at the Trunk Hotel. She must have found something important, otherwise she wouldn't have vanished into thin air like she had. But it was impossible to know what kind of evidence she might have found, and at this point, Bogo just wanted to know anything about what happened that night. What she had found out, whether it had anything to do with the predator attacks—honestly, he would have given his left horn just to know who was in the hotel that night with her.

I would need a warrant. He huffed in annoyance. Unlikely, given that I still can't even get one for the stupid NDAs. What are the odds the judge would even grant one for security footage in a hotel…

Bogo blinked. Wait a minute…

A number of years ago, while working on a separate case, Bogo had learned that the Trunk Hotel's security was run by Schiller Secure. He had become acquainted with one of the heads of Schiller Secure—a moose he knew only by the name Sorrel—and had managed to pull some strings in the ZPD to grant Sorrel immunity during the subsequent trial.

Sorrel owed him a favor, and Bogo knew that now was the time to call it in.

He allowed a rare grin to cross his face as he dug out his phone and shot off a simple text message. Then, with a new spring in his step, he hopped into the driver's seat of the cruiser, and a minute later, he was on his way back to the ZPD.


"I don't remember anything, I swear!"

The panther pleaded with Bogo as he escorted her into the main lobby. She was still cuffed, but he had opted against muzzling her, despite the mayor's mandate. Instead, he firmly but gently pulled her arm as he led her toward the holding cells in the back.

"You've got to believe me!" The panther tugged lightly against Bogo's grip but otherwise continued to cooperate. "The last thing I remember is sitting at my office desk writing a report!"

"I believe you, ma'am," Bogo insisted, hoping his quiet voice would help calm her down.

"I'm not a violent mammal!" The panther's voice was quivering as she fought to hold back tears. "I didn't even attend protests for my political class in college! Are you sure it was me?"

Bogo let out a sad sigh. "I'm afraid so, yes." He led her to a hall on the far end of the lobby. "I tranquilized you myself, and you've been in my custody ever since."

The panther was silent upon hearing this, and her walk slowed down considerably as she pondered his words. "But… But I wouldn't…"

"I'm very sorry, ma'am." They reached an empty holding cell, and Bogo opened the door. He led her inside, then fished the key for the handcuffs off his belt. "We'll have to fit you with a shock collar, as well as take a blood sample to test you for drugs." When the panther opened her mouth to respond, he quickly added, "And of course, you have the right to remain silent. If I were you, I'd do just that until your lawyer gets here."

The panther's head hung as Bogo took off the cuffs. Then, without another word, she slowly sat down on the cot in the corner of the room, and buried her head in her paws. She did not cry; she simply sat there, looking like she was still trying to figure out what had led her to this point.

Bogo left her to her thoughts. He left the holding cell, locked the door behind him, and walked straight back to the lobby.

As he walked over to the front desk, the noise from outside caught his attention. He took a glimpse at the front doors, already knowing what he was about to see. Standing outside, behind the four sheep officers guarding the entrance, was a massive crowd of protesters, demonstrators, and media. Right now, thankfully, it was peaceful, but it was still loud. Hundreds of predators, along with some prey allies, were chanting slogans condemning the shock collar mandate, while news reporters were capturing the footage with their cameras and conducting interviews with some of the participants.

This had been going on for two days by now. Early on, one or two officers had attempted to disperse the crowd, but Bogo had stopped them and made it clear that they would be allowed to continue as long as they wanted. Nobody was getting hurt, no laws were being broken, and if Bogo was honest with himself, he would just as soon be out there with them if he wasn't so busy trying to keep order in the city. In return, the protestors outside were cooperating with ZPD's officers, allowing them quick and easy entry and exit into the building while they demonstrated outside.

"They're not quieting down, Chief." Clawhauser spoke up as Bogo approached the desk. "I thought for sure those pizzas you bought them would have helped at least a little bit."

Bogo snorted. Yes, he had bought pizzas for the protestors outside—a lot of pizzas, from his own pocket. But as it was unheard of for a police officer to do such a thing for the very group protesting his job—much less the chief of police himself—he had placed the order anonymously, and Clawhauser was the only other person who knew about it.

And he preferred to keep it that way. "Ixnay on the izza-pay," Bogo grumbled.

Clawhauser took a second to process what Bogo had just said, but quickly covered his mouth and gave a silent thumbs-up in response.

Bogo glanced back to the front doors. "Besides," he sighed, "they have every right to be angry. And when people get angry, they get loud. And when they get loud, they get…"

"Hungry, sir?"

That wasn't the word Bogo was about to use, but it worked. Bogo nodded, then finally turned his attention to Clawhauser. "Any word yet from Hopps?"

Clawhauser sadly shook his head. "Nothing, chief. Also, nothing from Nick either—"

"Wilde is no longer with the ZPD," Bogo interrupted. "As such, he is not our priority. Hopps is."

It was harsh, but it was the truth. Nick Wilde was a very good friend to many in the ZPD, but since he had resigned, it was a waste of resources trying to find him. And besides, officially speaking, the fox was completely uninvolved in Hopps' disappearance; officially, the rabbit had acted alone, gone undercover without Bogo's knowledge or permission, and had completely disappeared off the face of the earth.

Bogo decided to change the subject. "Anything new to report?"

Clawhauser picked up a piece of paper and read some of his handwritten notes out loud. "There's really only one big thing. The, uh…"

His hesitation caused Bogo to raise an eyebrow. "What is it?"

Clawhauser quietly cleared his throat and continued. "The captain from Precinct 4 called. He said he wants a meeting to discuss the shock—"

Bogo knew exactly what the captain wanted to talk about, and quickly interrupted Clawhauser. "Tell him I'm very busy."

Clawhauser nodded, and began writing a new note on the page. "Busy with what, sir?"

"My job," Bogo growled. While Bogo and most of the officers in Precinct 1 were reluctant to carry out the shock collar mandate, the other precincts—especially Precinct 4—were all too enthusiastic to hang them on the neck of every predator they saw, to the point of zealousness. Some of their captains were none too happy with Bogo, and were becoming increasingly vocal on their opinion of him; he had even heard a rumor that the captain from Precinct 2 had gone straight to Assistant Mayor Rolfe and filed a formal complaint.

Which meant, if his knowledge on the assistant mayor's political priorities was correct, he should be expecting a meeting to be called any day now. The shock collars were not optional, and neither was the order for all predators to be equipped with them. Bogo willfully turning a blind eye was bound to get him in trouble.

He didn't care. His conscience was always louder than politicians.

A buzz in his pocket wrestled him away from his thoughts. Slightly annoyed, he fished out his phone and took a quick look at his screen. "It's my mother again," he mumbled.

"She sure is sending you an awful lot of messages lately," Clawhauser quipped.

"She worries too much." Still looking at his phone, Bogo asked, "Clawhauser, where are the lab results for that pill bottle that was found in Roark's car?"

"The original should be with the lab still," Clawhauser answered. "Should I call them up and have them make a copy for you?"

"Yes, but I want the original." Bogo stuck his phone back in his pocket and ignored Clawhauser's raised eyebrow. "And I want the lab results from the coffee cup as well. And anything else Hopps had access to—and I want the originals, not copies, is that clear?"

"Right away, sir." Clawhauser reached for the phone, but paused. "Um, Chief?"

Bogo knew what he was going to ask, and decided to answer first. "Hopps is missing, which means somebody has to work on this case." A wave of exhaustion passed through him, and he gently rubbed his temple with a finger. "We need to get this figured out. Quickly. Which is why I'm making it my priority number one."

Clawhauser's expression clouded over at Bogo's words, but without another word, he simply nodded and picked up the phone. Satisfied, Bogo turned around and walked to one of the side hallways.

Within a few seconds, he had reached Hopps' cubicle. Her desk was littered with papers, strewn about all over the place with little rhyme or reason. It was a mixture of printouts and handwritten notes, and it seemed that most of her energy had gone into researching the results from the coffee cup she had drank from on the night of the Gazelle concert.

Then that'll be my focus, too.

Bogo took a few seconds to stack the papers as neatly as he could, then grabbed them and tucked them under his arm in one single pile. He took a second to bump the computer mouse on the desk to see if the computer would wake up, but when it did not, he decided he had what he wanted and left her cubicle.

After a quick trip up the stairs, he entered his office, closed the door behind him, and locked it shut. He ignored the light switch, opting instead to grab his nearby laptop and take it with him to his desk. He sat down, plopped the pile of papers onto an empty area of the desk, opened the laptop up, and turned it on.

Before he could do anything else, the intercom buzzed. He placed his hoof on the button. "Perfect timing, Clawhauser. I just sat down."

"I aim to please," Clawhauser's muffled voice responded. "The lab results will be on your desk within an hour."

"Very good," Bogo responded.

"Also…"

"Yes?"

The volume in Clawhauser's voice dropped, to the point where Bogo almost had to strain to hear it. "Hopps requested a background check on the assistant mayor."

"She what?" Bogo's shocked response belted from his throat before he could stop himself.

"Yes sir," Clawhauser sheepishly confirmed. "All she told me was that she had a hunch, and to trust her."

For a brief moment, Bogo was enraged at Hopps for once again going off and conducting her own investigations without his permission. However, his anger quickly subsided when he reminded himself that it didn't matter; the request had been made, she was gone, and now it was in his hands.

Besides, he knew Hopps, and she wouldn't have done something so rash unless she had a good reason. After all, she was his best cop.

"Go on," he finally said.

"The report arrived earlier today. Shall I slide it under your door?"

"Yes, do that." Bogo wasn't sure what to expect from such a report, but it was nonetheless part of this case now, and he needed to look it over. "Anything else?"

Before Clawhauser could respond, the sound of the front desk's main phone rang over the intercom. "Hold on a second, chief." Clawhauser's voice distorted suddenly as he picked up the phone and talked with whoever was on the other side. Bogo considered voicing his annoyance at the cheetah's lack of consideration, but to his surprise, Clawhauser came back within just a few short seconds. "Chief, that was someone named Sorrel. He said to tell you 'The biscuits are overdone', and that you'd know what he meant."

"I do. Thank you." Bogo removed his hoof from the intercom and settled it on the laptop's track pad. After a few clicks, he had entered the ZPD's secure internet portal and navigated to his email. The newest email was titled "Consider Us Even". The email contained no text, but attached were several video files.

"All right, Hopps." Bogo leaned back in his chair as the first video started. The black-and-white CCTV footage of the Trunk Hotel's main lobby began playing on the computer screen. "Let's see what you can tell me."