Chapter 8: Change of Pace
Chief of police Bogo stared at his computer as he went to check his work email for any last minute news and updates before he will need to head down to do the morning roll call. It was all the usual that he had gotten used to over the years, but one email caught his eye. It was a message sent to him by that hare from the ZIA, agent Jack Savage. Clicking on the email, the buffalo wasn't surprised to see it password encrypted. Pausing to recall the agreed upon code, he typed it in and was rewarded by the appearance of the message. A quick glance at the clock told him that he still had time to read the email.
To: "Adrian Bogo" .
From: "Jack Savage" J_Savage_ .gov
Subject: Update Regarding Recent Visit
WARNING: For viewing by subject named in "recipient" line only. Unauthorized access will be persecuted by the fullest extent of the law.
Chief of Police Bogo,
I am reaching a standstill in my research on the two pilots ["Count" and "Trigger"] currently under your protection. Information into either one of them is scarce at best, and this is utilizing sources originating from both Urusia and Ocelotia. Despite knowing which squadron they belong to, and coming into contact with their direct superior officer, as well as contacts in the Ocelotian government, I am unable to receive the answers to my questions that I am looking for. Unfortunately, my currently available resources within the ZIA are reaching their limits as well. Here is what I have currently found that I feel I can safely share with you that will help you with determining on how to deal with the two.
First: I have repeatedly come across reports of a fighter group flying an assortment of fighter aircraft that have their vertical stabilizers ('tails' as commonly described) marked by large white painted-on lines. I cannot tell if this is an individual group or if there are several like it, but:
Second: I strongly suspect that there is only one aircraft with three lines. While the reports I have been able to read are scattered across locations, times, as well as potentially conflicting information sourced from Urusian or Ocelotian reports, I am beginning to see a pattern. Ocelotion reports repeatedly tell of an increase of morale and performance if a fighter with three lines is spotted fighting for them. Conversely, Urusian reports repeatedly told of battles that were sure to win suddenly being swung into defeat upon the arrival of 'the pilot with the three strikes'. I was unable to find similar reports for aircraft without the three lines.
Third: The Urusians don't know anything about these painted fighters, and the Ocelotians are very careful in hiding the true nature of this/these fighter group/s.
It is my personal suspicion that the Ocelotians are fielding some sort of special forces/operations fighter squadron/s. This would explain the effort they are putting into hiding the identities of their pilots. I am not able to come up with an explanation for the painted lines other than for easy identification for Ocelotian forces, and a psychological impact on Urusians.
On a brighter note, I believe I found what might be a previous squadron that 'Trigger' might have belonged to. They are currently involved with the fighting between the two countries, but I am hoping to get the cooperation of Ocelotia's ambassador in timing a visit while the squadron will be on leave. Hopefully within the next several days if possible. Perhaps talking to this squadron will yield some answers. Which also means that I might disappear without notice for a couple of days and will be unavailable for access.
If this will be the case, and you will still need to get word to me, you can reach me through my partner, Agent Sky Winters (S_Winters_ .gov). Make sure to encrypt any emails using the tool attached at the bottom of this email.
One last thing. Last I heard, talks in getting the two pilots traded over have stalled. You might be watching over them for longer than previously assumed.
Hope to see you soon with more information,
Jack Savage
Analyst, Zootopian Intelligence Agency, Untied States of Animalia
Closing the email, Chief Bogo shook his head in annoyance before standing up. He can deal with Count and Trigger's logistical issues later. But for right now, there was a police station to run. As he gathered the materials he would need for the briefing, he cast one more look at the computer screen.
"Why was I the one to end up with this mess?" he asked no one in particular, shaking his head. Closing the email program, the buffalo left the office to make his way downstairs.
"Assignments for today, let's start off with..." Bogo adjusted the glasses on his nose, but it was mostly just for the effect of getting the entire bullpen to wait with dread and/or excitement for whatever plans he had for the officers for today. "Count, Trigger. Parking duty."
The silence of the room lasted for only a moment before the deer began to complain. Loudly. "What? You can't do that to us! We don't even answer to you!"
Bogo simply glanced up from his pad. "I checked the regulations. You don't need to be a badged officer to hand out parking tickets. Just need to be certified by the city for permission to do so. Which I have right here." Sure enough, he held out said paperwork in his other hoof as proof that he wasn't bluffing.
"Yeah? Well, we still don't have to listen to you!"
For someone famous for his incredibly short temper, Chief Bogo was sometimes even more intimidating when he was able to act as though he had the patience of a glacier. When he would not raise his voice, but instead talk in an almost bored demeanor. "Last I checked, which was this morning, I might add," he casually replied, "I believe the arrangement explicitly said that while the two of you are under my watch, you must also listen to what I tell you and do I say."
Bogo reached up for his glasses and used a corner of his uniform to clean off a smudge in the glass. "But as a non-citizen of this country, I guess you can indeed feel a difference of opinion. Though let me remind you that you are currently in this country without authorization, which I recall is a crime, and you are in the middle of a police station. Your cell is still waiting for you, should you choose to wait out the day in there." He returned the glasses to his nose. "I'll leave the choice up to you."
Since Fangmeyer and Wolford were still on their second day off for the week, Count was stuck next to Trigger and Nick and Judy's shared chair. Right in the front of the room closest to Bogo. The deer grunted and crossed his arms. "Fine!" he spat, "I'll ticket cars for you."
The buffalo leaned over the podium. "Good," he replied coldly, hinting at the fact that he wasn't going to waste any more time arguing with Count. "Now for actual assignments..."
The officers waited to be assigned their tasks for the day, with the rest of the morning briefing going out surprisingly normal despite the two mammals in the room that wouldn't be there on a regular day.
However, for the two smallest officers in the precinct, they waited for their assignment with a feeling of dread. Because if they had to cubsit the two-
"Wilde, Hopps. You'll be helping our two guests ticket cars today. Thank you for volunteering." Yup, there it was.
In order to hide his disappointment at their assigned task, Nick answered back with a sharp quip. "No problem, boss! Always glad to help encourage citizen to pay a bit more taxes."
Bogo gripped the podium, wood creaking underneath the strain of his strength. "Can it, Wilde! I'll leave it between you and Hopps to decide who goes with whom, but you all have your assignments. Dismissed!"
The room erupted into noise as everyone stood up to get on with their day. At the front, Nick got a certain sense of pride as he saw how Judy was able to intimidate both Trigger and Count, at the same time, just by glaring at them. It didn't take a genius to figure out that she also wasn't looking forward to spending the day ticketing cars. The deer was still fuming, but he wasn't successful in hiding his fear at the bunny's wrath.
"Gee, Carrots, I thought we're joining them for parking duty, not roasting them alive."
Judy took her glare away from the two pilots to look at her partner. "Nick, come on, you heard how Bogo spoke! They did something he didn't like, but because he can't send them off to do parking duty alone, we have to accompany them!" She looked back at the two, narrow eyes. Count tried to hide behind the shorter Trigger, if it was possible somehow. "Parking duty… Something for new cops to do, okay. A punishment for mild misbehavior to keep performance up, I can understand. But he never before volunteered cops to parking duty before!" Looking around, she spotted Bogo still behind the counter gathering his things. Bounding over, the bunny had to clear her throat to get his attention. "Sir! Please, are we really required to accompany Count and Trigger on parking duty today?"
Bogo looked down at Judy, eyebrow raised. He wasn't able to recall before when she would complain so readily about whatever work he made her do. Not even days behind the desk doing paperwork earned such complaining from her. "The two of them earned themselves a day of parking duty, Hopps," she chief explained calmly, "but you know perfectly well that I can't let them go off and do it on their own. I am pushing it as is by only assigning you and Wilde to them rather than forcing another pair to the task."
That confirmed Judy's suspicion that Bogo didn't choose the parking duty randomly for Count and Trigger. "Okay, sir, I understand," she answered, "just disappointed. Actually, what did they do?"
The buffalo grinned. "Ask them." With a ruffle of papers, the chief grabbed everything he needed and left the room without another word.
Nick was busy watching the interaction between Judy and Bogo when he felt a tug on his sleeve and turned to find himself looking at Trigger. The coyote stared back, ears down and a rather embarrassed expression on his muzzle. "What's up, Three Strikes?"
"I uh, aren't you going to show me where to get the gear?"
"Oh, yeah, just a second." He motioned for Judy to follow him. "Carrots, help me get Strikes and Grumpy here get acquainted with their meter maid uniforms."
Judy looked over to where Count was clearly displeased with the name Nick had given him. "Nick, I believe 'Grumpy' has a name." Actually, did 'Count' count as a name? Never mind that. "Take Count to the lockers. I want to talk to Trigger."
With a shrug, Nick lead Count out of the room. "What ever you say, Fluff. This way, Grumpy." When the two left, the only ones remaining in the room were Judy and Trigger. Turning her attention to the coyote, Judy's foot started to tap at the ground with impatience. "So, Trigger, is there something I should know about why you are being assigned with parking duty?"
Trigger stared out the door where Nick and Count had left from. "Why me?" he whined as a reply to Judy's question, "Can't you talk to Count instead?" When she didn't answer, her foot still tapping the floor in a steady rhythm, he chuckled nervously. "Yeah, okay… I guess we deserve it," he admitted, "Count and I sorta came up with… uh, a game of sorts. Your chief didn't approve when he found out."
Oh sweet cheese and crackers.
At the mention of a 'game', and the fact that the two were now saddled with parking duty, Judy felt that what she was going to hear next, that she wasn't going to like it. "So what sort of game..?" she urged on, twirling a finger in the air to further her point. At the moment, she felt like she was back at home helping out at running the Hopps farm at Bunnyburrow, scolding one of her many younger siblings after they misbehaved.
"Well, I guess it's not a secret around here that I am… uh, kinda bad with the whole getting shocked thing," Trigger continued to explain, scratching at his neck idly as he spoke. "And you know Count, how he can get. We were with the other two cops, uh, Wolford and Fangmeyer, and we were all waiting on dinner. It was taking a while, so we were rather bored as you can imagine..." The coyote snorted in mild amusement as he recalled whatever had happened. "So Count decided to just, I don't know how to phrase it, just joke around like he does. 'Hey, Trigger, mammal who shocks the other the most wins'. And we just… took turns. See if we can think of something to say that will make the other zap themselves." Despite still grinning, Trigger was also appearing rather ashamed now as he looked at Judy. "I lost. I know, big surprise. But I put up a good fight! Even Count was impressed that I lasted as long as I did. I'm getting better, you know, at well, if not hiding my emotions, then at least not getting zapped over them." When he fished the story, Trigger's grin turned into an annoyed scowl as he looked away from the bunny. "Of course, your Chief Bogo was... less than amused when he found out. Guess either Wolford or Fangmeyer told what happened. Or both of them, doesn't matter really." His gaze returned to Judy, eyes wider than before. "Th-they did try to stop us," he hastily added, "it's not like they just sat there and let it happen. But short of sewing our mouths shut, there wasn't much they could do. Call it stubbornness from me and Count if you want, but once we started, we didn't end until, well, all right, I admitted defeat after a rather… heated comment and the buzz that followed it. Hurt quite a bit, actually."
Judy was only able to stare back at Trigger, trying to comprehend what he was telling her. The two days off she had with Nick, she had struggled to listen to his advice and come up with a way that would allow her to tolerate the presence of those devices. And these two turned the collars into a game? "Why in the world and all the plants on it would you do that?" When he didn't answer, her foot, which had stopped tapping for the duration of Trigger's explanation, started to tap again, now with even a greater speed than before. "Trigger? Care to explain that?"
The coyote looked around nervously, but didn't find an escape route away from her angry gaze. "Well, you know how these things go," he tried to explain, "it's just harmless fun, that's all."
Judy had to clench her paws into fists in order to prevent her from doing something she would regret. "TAME collars are not 'harmless fun', Trigger!" she hissed, "they are very dangerous devices! What would have happened if it had gone off at a high setting? Explain to a doctor that you burned your neck because of some 'harmless fun'?"
Trigger rubbed his neck nervously. Judy couldn't help but notice that the fur was starting to display signs of being matted from the accumulating hours spent with a collar on. "But it doesn't really hurt," he answered, "it's like… a bug bite. Or a wasp sting. Nothing you really even notice if you get distracted enough."
Why did Judy feel like he was simply trying to divert the problem away from the root cause? "That's not what I asked, Trigger," she warned coldly. "I asked why you thought that turning those collars into a game was ever a good idea!" To her surprise, Trigger's look of worry and embarrassment morphed instantly into one of anger.
"Look, Hopps, if nothing else, know this," he grumbled out, "Count knows exactly what to say if he really wanted me to get mad. And I mean mad. And for that matter, I also know exactly how to get him to switch his collar from green to red just like that." He snapped his fingers to prove his point. "So I guess the point I am trying to make, well, is that, okay, perhaps not 'mindless fun, as you were, but... it's hardly Russian roulette. There are worse ways to let off some steam." He let out his own sigh of frustration. "Personal experience Hopps: don't ask me or Count to tell you about what some of the guys would do to 'chill out'." He leaned down to be more at Judy's level. "Compared to some of that stuff, these collars are no worse than the pain you can expect from a day out in the fields picking carrots." Examining Judy closely, Trigger shrugged as he returned to his normal posture. "Or did you Animalian Big City bunny never enjoy the experience of a day of manual labor?"
Judy's eyes narrowed. "That's getting dangerously close to sounding specieist, Trigger," she warned, "I expect that from Count, but not from you."
The two mammals stared at each other, neither one of them saying a word.
Trigger broke the stalemate. "Anything else?" he asked, "I thought we were supposed to ticket parked cars today."
Ironically enough, that reminded Judy of one of the main reasons why she wanted to talk to Trigger in the first place, before getting completely sidetracked. "Actually, yes, about that," motioning for the coyote to follow her, she exited the bullpen and lead the two of them down to the changing area. There wasn't a need for privacy for this part. "I wanted you to stay with Nick for today."
"But aren't you the one usually assigned to watch over me?" Trigger asked from behind her. "Ni-Wilde's bigger than you, just as Count is larger than I am. It makes sense for the two of them to be paired up."
This time, Judy knew that Trigger wasn't trying to offend her, but she still felt that familiar pang of annoyance at being reminded of her small size, and more specifically, the constant struggle she had to deal with to prove that her size wasn't a problem. Looking behind her, Judy flashed a smile. "What? You worried about me?" When a flustered Trigger stammered for a reply, she cut him off with a back-pawed wave. "If you think one 'Grumpy' is going to get the better of me, then I fear I might have let off the wrong impression on you." Her grin faded as her voice took on a more serious tone. "As you just told me yourself, you need to work on controlling your emotions, as long as you will continue to wear those collars. Am I correct?"
"...Yeah." Even without looking, Judy could tell that Trigger wasn't happy to actually voice the conclusion out loud.
"Then while issuing parking tickets, talk to Nick. Let him help you," Judy continued to explain. "Nick, he… he can get rather annoying at times with how dense he is. Sometimes it's useful that you can't tell what he's thinking or feeling, but other times it would be nice if he can open up more. But what I am saying is that I think there is something you can learn from him." From behind her, she heard Trigger sigh after a short break.
"Hopps, I'm twenty-eight. Older than you, if I am guessing correctly. I don't need someone to hold my paws like some pup."
"Trigger, I wasn't trying to offend you. I'm just saying that it might be a good idea for you to talk to Nick. I don't want to see you get hurt because of those collars."
"Well excuse me for not being an emotionless brick" Trigger growled back, "not like there's a war going on or anything. That I was fighting in less than a week ago."
Judy stopped to look back at the coyote, trying to figure out why he was suddenly so hostile. She had to step out of the way as he walked right past her. "Trigg-"
"Forget it, Hopps!" he shouted back, not even bothering to turn his head in her direction. "Are we going to ticket those cars today or what?"
She had to break into a run to catch up. "Trigger-!"
Again without looking, the coyote cut her off with a shouted reply. "Fine, I'll go with the damned fox!"
Judy blinked as she stopped chasing after him again in surprise. That wasn't what she wanted to say, but the bunny also doubted that he was willing to listen to what she really wanted to say. To say that this wasn't the direction that Judy had wanted the conversation with Trigger to go was a major understatement. As she raced after him, she thought back to where it all went wrong. A horrible feeling of guilt came over her when she remembered that it was her getting angry at him in the first place that caused everything to escalate. Catching up, she tried to apologize, but he simply brushed her off with an angry snarl.
With a heavy sigh, Judy lead the way in silence until they reached the changing rooms. Count and Nick were already there, ready to go and both looking curiously at the the animosity between the two mammals.
Deciding that Count could show the other pilot the rather simple procedure of putting on the meter-maid uniform, Nick took Judy aside to find out what was going on. "Okay, Carrots, lay it on me. Why was Three Strikes looking at you like he was ready to drop a bomb over your head?" He smirked down at her. "Doesn't take a lot to figure out that your little 'talk' didn't go too well."
"Nick, please! Don't start with your antics now." With a nervous glance to make sure that no one else was listening in, Judy quickly explained what she had wanted to get out of talking to the coyote, and what had went down instead.
Nick waited patiently for her to finish talking, but there was no mistaking the casual smirk on his muzzle. "Sounds like a classic case of the clashing egos to me," he finally said when Judy finished talking. He then placed a paw on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "Tell you what? It really is a good idea if you go with Count today. Mix things up a bit."
Judy nodded, starting to feel better. It was good to know that she could trust her partner, even if it was for something as trivial as this. "Nick, since you're a fox and all, I was hoping that you could talk to Trigger today about the collars. While the two of you are out and about on parking duty. Tell him about your 'never let 'em see that they get to you' and all that."
"Sure, I can try," Nick replied with a casual nod. "Though let me warn you: there's a difference between not letting others see what you are feeling, and not actually feeling anything. With the TAME collars, I doubt hiding the appearance of emotions will do much, but hey, I didn't live some twenty years on the streets without learning a couple of oldies but goldies!" He let go of Judy's shoulder, returning his paw to his side. "Tell you the truth, I wouldn't mind spending the day with the coyote," he concluded with a grin, "fellow small canine, and a foreigner to boot. Could be interesting. Speaking of which, shouldn't we get back and actually start our parking duty?"
The bunny returned his grin. "Thanks, Nick. You're the best!"
The fox chuckled in reply. "Just doing my job, Fluff!"
