The Good Life

AN: Gues reviewer asks if there is going to be an actual antagonist to this story. Simply put? Yes. He's introduced in this chapter, though he was mentioned previously.

On another note, I think this story is somewhere around half done, maybe a bit more than half. Either way, we're on the tail end of things now.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Bad Guys or Zootopia.

Chapter Eleven:

Wednesday evening after work, Wolf stopped at the apartment only briefly to shower, change, and eat a quick dinner. Snake wished him good luck, and then Wolf was heading back down to his car. He kept the radio off during the drive back to the abandoned docks for no other reason than to keep his adrenaline going. Music would've distracted him, kept his mind away from what was about to happen. This way, he felt that anxiety and adrenaline pumping through his veins.

Back when he was the getaway driver, that had been the key to escaping from the cops. At least, at first. During the last few years, he got a bit complacent and cocky because, well...LA cops just weren't good drivers. Tonight, he'd need the edge, though. Street racing was something different than what he was used to, and there was more on the line here than just going to jail.

His gun was in the glovebox, which was unlocked, a precaution in case things got ugly. He had five grand at most to bet on this race. There was a bit more in his account, but five grand was all he was going to use. And he had a car that he knew inside and out, one with the raw power to rule these streets with the right driver behind her wheel. Luckily, he was the right driver.

When he packed his bags back in LA, he bought one suit in the style of his old ones. It was his signature look, and he brought it just in case he needed to be recognized. He hadn't planned on having to be recognized at all—the original plan was to lay low while he was here—but there was no way to predict what would happen, and he liked to be prepared. Again, just in case. He wasn't even going to delude himself, though. It felt good to be in this particular suit again.

Heading off to do something illegal, in his car, and wearing his signature suit...it felt just like old times.

A small grin couldn't be helped at the thought. Working at Viktor's shop was fun and all, but it was a far cry from robbing banks and stealing from museums. He was a wolf, for crying out loud! Dogs were supposed to be the domesticated canines, not wolves!

Of course, all of that tough talk went right out the window when he saw his destination come into view. Despite that, he knew his course and he was sticking with it. He took a breath, hid his fear behind his normal, charismatic persona, and pulled into the old warehouse.

All of the building's doors were closed, including the loading bays, and while there was no immediate sign outside that anyone else was here, he could hear the music coming from inside. The dirty windows near the top of the warehouse had faint light emanating from them, too. The cops clearly didn't patrol this area, but they still seemed to take precautions just in case. There were no cars outside, even when drove around to the back. The dark, unlit area would've provided enough protection from prying eyes, anyway, in his opinion, but they probably had their reasons for keeping their cars inside.

While he had no idea how they normally did things here, he knew one way to get the attention of anyone inside...and it didn't include the horn. He pulled up near the loading bays, put his car in park, and revved the engine a few times, the roar of the V8 and the whine of the supercharger interrupting the silence of the night spectacularly. After a few revs, he let the engine idle and immediately noticed that the music had cut off.

Stealing himself, he shut the car off, though he kept the lights on, and opened the door just as one of the loading bay doors started to open. It was the only one that had a makeshift ramp leading up to it, so he assumed that's where all the cars went in and came out from.

Through the opening door, he spied a well-lit room and probably a dozen or so custom cars ranging from modern muscle cars to '90s Japanese tuners and what looked like an old Pontiac Trans Am. He didn't really have time to study it any further as a deep, and rather hostile voice, boomed, "Who are you?"

Wolf focused on the group of animals standing in the door. They were well lit, but the headlights from his car were preventing them from seeing him as anything more than a shadowy figure. The sight of several handguns did not fill him with confidence. He didn't let that fear enter his voice, though, and he addressed the lion in the middle, the clear source of the voice that addressed him. "Name's Wolf. Moe Wolf. And you are Leo King, I presume? Or do you prefer 'Street King'?"

A few of the other animals shuffled nervously as the lion stared down at him, his gaze neither friendly nor unfriendly. It was curious and suspicious, but that was better than hostile or angry. "Wolf? I've heard that name before..."

"That's the guy from the Bad Guys, right?" Both Wolf and King turned to the one who spoke, a crocodilian with a thoughtful expression.

"So my reputation precedes me," Wolf chuckled, shutting off the lights and letting them see him fully.

"Yeah, it does," the crocodile snapped. "Thought you were supposed to be reformed? What's a goody-goody like you doing in a place like this?"

Wolf glanced at King just to gauge his expression. The lion looked equal parts amused and intrigued, though he doubted the former was a good type of amused. "I've not forgotten what I am. The world won't let me. So yeah, maybe I'm trying to straighten out a bit, but you can't domesticate a wolf. I need to drive, and I hear this is the place to do it."

"Hear? Hear from who?" It was King who spoke this time, and Wolf had the sense that he was one wrong answer from getting himself and someone else killed.

Wolf opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, someone else spoke. "Wait a minute..." A vaguely familiar jaguar walked down the ramp a few steps and studied him intently. "You're Viktor's new employee."

Wolf nodded, remembering where he knew that guy from. And just so the others would know he was actually who the jaguar thought he was, he asked, "The timing on your Jag still good?"

Everyone up there turned to look at the jaguar to await his answer. "Yeah, it is...I think this guy's legit, King."

The lion nodded, but he still appeared thoughtful. "And why would Viktor tell you about our little hideout? I thought he didn't approve of our...nighttime shenanigans."

"He doesn't," Wolf answered honestly. "But I can be quite persuasive when I want to be." It helped that Viktor seemed to be sympathetic towards Wolf's plight, but they didn't need to know his reasons for being here.

King just smirked, and waved for him to come in, turning and walking away without a word. Many of the others went with him, but one stayed by the doors to close them once Wolf was in. He got back into the car and cranked it up, driving up the ramp and parking just inside where King was pointing. The lion whistled as Wolf got out, his gaze taking in Wolf's car. "She is a beauty. How much power she got?"

"Just under nine hundred," Wolf answered, prompting another impressed whistle from the lion. "Not many of my boys have cars that would match this thing. But! You came here to race, right?" He nodded, and the lion grinned. "Then, I think we can work something out. But first..." King raised his hand and snapped at the jaguar and a tiger. "Search him and the car."

"Search?" Wolf asked. He didn't mind being searched himself, but he was a bit nervous—scared even—to find out what they would do when they saw his gun. Still, he didn't argue and raised his arms as the jaguar came over to pat him down. The tiger went straight for his car.

"Standard procedure," King answered matter-of-factly as the jaguar finished up and gave a thumbs up to the lion. "Hanging out in this building isn't illegal. My name's on the deed, so I can do whatever I want here. Racing, however...I've never been caught by the cops, and I have no intention on breaking that streak."

"Got a gun here, King!" Wolf winced at the shout, though his expression was back to normal before everyone's eyes were on him.

"Can't blame me for having one. I see some of your boys have their own." Wolf looked at some of the animals that were still holding theirs or had visible holsters on the hips.

King glanced at him. "Who said I was blaming you? You got something to hide, Wolf?"

"No..." he answered hesitantly. King just snorted and looked away, clearly amused. He filed that away for later. This lion liked to intimidate people and keep them on their toes, making it nearly impossible to figure out if he was being straight or not.

"Looks clean in here!" King nodded, placed a paw on Wolf's shoulder, making him tense a bit, and lead the canine further into the building. Behind them, the tiger shut his car door, and the bay door shut, as well.

In this moment of relative quiet, Wolf took the time to look around. The left half of the building was the area where all the cars were parked. On the right half, however, there was a fully stocked bar, a pool table, a dart board, enough seating for probably a dozen animals, and what was clearly meant to be a throne. A bucket seat was placed upon a raised dais near the back wall and surrounded by empty beer bottles.

If it wasn't clear the guy was a total egomaniac before, it certainly was now.

A metal staircase near the loading bay doors went up to the metal catwalk where the lights were attached to. The office, if Wolf's instincts were right, was probably converted into an actual apartment room. If that was true, it meant King probably lived here.

As a whole, the place was actually pretty clean. The cement floor was relatively clear of stains and seemed to be swept regularly. The walls were made of metal, but it all looked brand new and free of rust. He wouldn't doubt that the roof was solid, either. As for the others, there were probably fifteen or sixteen not counting himself or King. Most were mammals, though there was that single crocodile and two humans in here, too.

"So..." King began, his paw leaving Wolf's shoulder as he walked up to his 'throne' and sat down. "You come to race, and race you shall...if you follow our rules. First, you say anything to the cops, you die, simple as that. You get arrested after a crash, you shut your mouth and let a lawyer talk for you. No one mentions me or this place. Is that clear?"

So he wasn't afraid to kill someone to keep his little operation going...good to know. "Crystal," Wolf nodded.

"Good." He leaned back, obviously more comfortable talking now that that little disclaimer was out of the way. "Street racing in a city with as many cops as Zootopia is high risk, so we only race for high stakes. Bets are three grand minimum for each driver, and there's no second place. Winner takes the pot. You don't have that kind of cash, you put up a pink slip against the others' cash. You win, you take the money. You lose, winner takes the money and your car. You're free to come and go as you please, but races only happen on Wednesday nights. Only six drivers are allowed in any one race, and we only do one race each week. In order to get a spot, you have to be willing to risk more cash. If they want to race for six grand, but you only want to race for three, you don't get a spot. If everyone's okay with six, or whatever number it is, the bets go higher until only six drivers are left. But..." The lion paused and looked around at his 'boys'. "First-timers get special privilege. You set the price, and five others will match it. If there's more than five, they flip a coin or whatever. So what'll it be, Wolf? What kind of bet are you willing to make?"

This was it. If he bet five grand, he risked losing all of it if he lost. If he won, however, he'd be walking out of here with an extra twenty-five grand. That was more money than some people working low-paying jobs earned in an entire year. If his mental math was right, it was about a year-and-a-half's worth of pay from a minimum wage job. Maybe a little more.

"I've got five grand," Wolf declared, and King nodded his acknowledgement.

"Five grand!" he announced to everyone. "And Wolf's very fine piece of automotive engineering has nearly nine hundred horsepower! Who's game?"

At first, no one answered. As Wolf looked around, he noticed a few shaking their heads or muttering to themselves. Maybe his car had a little too much power for these guys. After about ten seconds, there was a single. "Sure, why not?"

A grey wolf walked up to the front of the group, and Wolf's jaw nearly hit the floor. He recognized that wolf because he saw him almost every day in passing. It was Joe Barker, the receptionist at his apartment building. "I thought you didn't own a car?"

Joe snorted in amusement and smirked. "I lied."

After a few more minutes, Wolf had four opponents, and no one else was willing to race. Twenty thousand was still a lot of money, though, so he wasn't about to complain too much.

With the five racers chosen, King led them over to the pool table and laid out a map of Zootopia. What followed was about two hours of picking out a route for the race and memorizing it fully. These guys seemed to have premade tracks and routes to choose from, so he was already at a disadvantage for not knowing what they were. Still, his ability to memorize security systems transitioned quite well for memorizing the route.

After that, he had a meet and greet with his four opponents.

Joe owned an Audi R8, a car Wolf had never seen down in that parking garage. From what he saw, it was mostly stock, but it had upgraded brakes, air filters, radiators, and spark plugs. Not only that, it was the V10 version of the car, and Joe claimed it made about 670 horsepower. It wasn't the massive power of his Camaro, but it was still nothing to sneeze at. It was probably a lot faster around the corners than his car.

One of the humans, Michael, owned a kitted out Dodge Viper, one of the newer versions. It had enough power that it warranted a new rear wing and splitter up front. Wolf knew the base stat for this car was around 650 hp, but he suspected this one was closer to 800 to 850. Heck, maybe it was even up to 900 like his own car.

His third opponent, the tiger who searched his car earlier, had a Toyota Supra Mark IV. Despite what it was, that was the car Wolf was most worried about since Jorge claimed it was sitting pretty at almost 1,200 hp and had a top speed of nearly 240 mph! There was a thing as too much power, though, and Wolf suspected that thing was extremely unstable at lower speeds. It would need downforce to keep it stable, and there wasn't enough produced at double-digit speeds to do that.

His final opponent, the crocodile, who was named Gary, was also a Japanese car enthusiast, though his car wasn't nearly as insane as Jorge's. It was an RX-7, probably the best Mazda ever made in his opinion, and it was tuned and upgraded to the point of producing 750 horses.

It was definitely some stiff competition, but the real challenge would be that Supra. The rest of the cars all had top speeds similar to his, but that one could sail past him even when at top speed. Honestly, he had to wonder at his chances, but he didn't let that doubt linger. He knew the streets and how to drive on them. He had fifteen years of experience running from the cops, and he wasn't about to lose his first ever street race to a Toyota of all things.

At 11:30, the racers were all leaving. They'd all take different routes to the starting point. First, it was less conspicuous to travel alone than in a group. And two, the starting and finishing points were always away from the hideout, so they'd draw less attention to where they hung out. The cops still didn't know about this place according to King, and he seemed to be doing everything he could to make sure it stayed that way.

Luckily for that lion, Wolf had no intentions of messing with him or his boys. He'd win a few races to get some cash, and then he'd be done and out of there for good. Still, he'd definitely keep this place in mind if he needed some quick cash in the future...provided he win, of course.

AN: Wolf meets King, and he's about to have his first race. Wonder how that's going to go. I mean...what could possibly go wrong?

Until Next Time

AdmiralCole22