Chapter 31: From bad to worse

"Unit twelve?" Clawhauser's voice came through the car's radio loudly and quickly, startling the officers inside. "Fangmeyer, Wolford, you're needed at the docks immediately! Assistance is needed, andthey're asking for you!"

James huffed as he grabbed the radio to reply back even as Dahlia was already pulling into the road, lights and sirens blaring to clear a path through the traffic. "Roger, we're on our way. Uh-" he winced mentally as he realized that he was stalling while occupying the frequency. "Why didn't we hear about this over the coms?"

"Call came in over the phone. Asked for you specifically. I'm uploading the directions right now!"

A pang of fear flashed through James. Them specifically? Sounded an awful lot like someone knew who they were. And the docks? A perfect ambush. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts as he realized that he was jumping to conclusions. "Who asked for us?"

"Eh, what's her name again? Winters did."

Oh, right. Savage and Winters would head down to the docks every now and then, depending on which Urusian cargo hauler was stopping by the port. You would have thought that the Urusians would have figured out that all of their ships were held in high suspicion by this point, but they still kept on trying to smuggle something in every now and then.

"Copy that, we're on it." Since Dahlia was already speeding towards their destination, there was no need to tell her to get on the gas. "Guess they found something interesting," he commented to his partner. "Wonder what though."

"We'll see when we get there," Fangmeyer grunted as she sped through the diverted lanes of traffic. "Which shouldn't be long. Clawhauser wasn't kidding when he said we were close. Once we're inside, I know where to go. Isn't my first time."

Just as she pointed out, it was only mere minutes as the tall buildings of Zootopia started to give way to the much blockier and shorter concrete cubes that made up the docks district. Following their own GPS to their destination, they didn't have to slow down to read the admittedly enormous signs pointing them towards the main entrance. It also helped that the gate guard, already alerted for them, had the swivel gate raised open and was waving them through. Once inside, the lights and sirens were turned off, but Dahlia hardly slowed down even as actual roads all ended into the flat concrete maze that was the cargo loading area.

James gripped his seat desperately, eyes bulging as he watched the rather sharp and tough looking metal walls of the containers zoom past his head barley an arms' length past the window on either side. "Da- Fang! Slow down!" he hissed, feeling very self-concious of how frightened he was at her driving. "We're gonna hit something!"

"What's the matter? Scared?" Dahlia teased, only slowing down in order to take a sharp corner quickly. "Relax! I got it! Clawhauser did say we were requested immediately after all!"

What, to him, felt like an eternity later, but must have been hardly more than a minute or two, they arrived at their destination. "Oh, finally we've stopped," James mumbled in relief. "Right, let's see what this mess is about." Visually, it was just like any other random section, blocked off by shipping containers to one side, and the port with moored ships on the other. It was just like any other section of the docks really, except for a very out-of-place ambulance parked on the pavement, lights flashing silently.

Jack Savage and Sky Winters were there, talking to the paramedic team loading someone up into the back of their ambulance. To their slight surprise, Count and Trigger were there too, hanging off to the side and letting the others work.

"Are we late?" Dahlia announced as the two officers exited their car. "Came here as soon as the call came in."

Jack waved them over. "Nah, you're good. We thought things might get messy, which they actually did in the end," he motioned at the mammal being loading into the ambulance. "A lot quicker than we expected. He'll have a lot of explaining to do when he wakes up. But since you're here now, excuse me while I go and make sure to talk to the EMTs to let them know not to allow him to walk away if he does wake up earlier than we want." He shuffled away from them, leaving the two officers alone with Winters.

James grimaced at the location of the dart poking out of the guy in question. Looked like it really hurt going in. "Who is he, anyways?"

"Captain of this ship here," Skye answered the question with a grunt of dismissal. "Urusian. Docks ran the normal remote scan of the cargo, and automatically got flagged for a closer look. Good thing we brought the pilots over, because that thing's definitely carrying drones, although Trigger is assuring us they're only surveillance models. Not that it makes me feel any fuzzier, to be honest. The Animalian public isn't exactly the most welcoming to the idea of a foreign drone flying around, surveillance or combat armed." She blinked, catching herself start to ramble. "Either way, we boarded the ship to get a personal look. Captain here objected. With a loaded gun, and the demeanor saying that he was definitely planning on using it. Got the dark when he wasn't looking. Rest of the crew is still on board the ship, and rather pissed off, I might add."

"So how are we supposed to help with that?" Dahlia asked. "There's only two of us. And we're hardly qualified to apprehend an entire ship's crew."

Skye shook her head. "You're not doing anything to them. While the crew is smaller than you think, that matter is ZIA jurisdiction now. And ever since Savage darted the ship's captain, it's only a few more minutes before this place will be crawling with more ZIA. No, what we need the two of you is to take the pilots home." She jerked her head in the direction of Count and Trigger. "Can't have them wandering off while we're busy and lacking the attention to make sure that they don't wander off." This last part was added with a low growl.

James frowned. While he also completely agreed that he also personally lost a lot of trust in the two pilots ever since he found out about their history, he still didn't feel like they necessarily deserved hostility just for existing. At least so far, both of them behaved not unlike any other regular criminal who just wanted to get their sentence over with and without any incidents or trouble. "Did they try anything?"

"No, they didn't. But it's still not a risk we want to take. We already have one international incident this morning, we don't need another. Just bringing them here was risky as it is."

"All right, we'll take them back," Dahlia butted in reassuringly but firmly. "Count, Trigger. Get your tails over here!" The two shuffled over as ordered, but stood further away than they normally would. Count was glaring at the world, while Trigger chose to avoid crossing gazes with anyone in general. She let out a frustrated sigh. This was going to be an awkward and quiet ride back to the precinct.

"No collars?" James asked, trying to brake the tension.

"No, just your old fashioned ankle monitors," Count huffed. "Ironic, isn't it? Now that we're simple criminals again, we actually have more freedom. Makes me think we should've robbed some store or something as soon as we could. Would have saved me a lot of effort on regrowing burned neck fur, that's for sure. Or would I need to kill someone and get a murder charge like Trigger to get that privilege?"

Dahlia shot him a glare. "Count, that's enough, and don't talk like that. Let alone to us. Get inside the car, we're leaving. Back door's open for you."

He rolled his eyes and shot her a very mocking salute. "Yes ma'am! Just as you ordered! Let's go, Trigger, you heard her." Pushing the smaller pilot along roughly, the two climbed into the back of the cruiser.

Dahlia let out another sigh. "You know, they were really easier to get along with while they still had a reason to stay under our radar," she commented. "Have they been giving you much trouble, Winters? I know the chief still doesn't like it when you grab them, but personally, I think he rather enjoys not having to worry about what they're up to twenty-four-seven."

"They've been a lot worse to deal with, that's for sure," Skye agreed. "It's been what? Just under two weeks since then? Count sure hates the world even more than he used to, and isn't afraid anymore of letting everyone know. Trigger just stands around and doesn't do much unless being told to specifically do something. Easier to deal with, sure, but coming from a combat veteran? If anything, rather kinda pathetic, really." She gave the officers a shrug. "Nothing I doubt you haven't seen already."

"I think us finding out what he did took a larger toll on him than us finding out what he did," James commented. "Not that I'm surprised. If Count's word is anything to go by, then everyone at their airbase knows, so I think we were the first friendly faces he's seen in… since Hareling died, really. Now most of the guys back at the precinct can barely tolerate being in the same room as either of them." He glanced nervously at Skye. "Did you find out anything useful about that? About the questions we sent your way?"

Skye shook her head. "Afraid not. Ocelotia's systems locked down hard since those leaks. All of the front and back doors we were using were closed up overnight. It was a very serious information leak we received, officer. They weren't going to just sit back and let it happen without doing anything. I already have good word that they found the person responsible and have them locked up behind bars. After all, we only saw the tip of the leaks. What else happened that we didn't see? Combat plans that have to be halted, changed, or removed? Forces location information? These leaks have cost lives, and will continue to cost more. What two pilots did to be sent to a penal unit are the least of their concerns." She suddenly let out a very frustrated growl. "Word back in the office is that while Ocelotia is voicing wonderful statements about being much more cooperative, they're also not doing anything at all. Personally, I don't know why they're still keeping the charade up. But, as it stands, it's now much harder to get any sort of information out of them. But that's my job, not yours, so don't worry about it."

Jack Savage came over, the noise of the ambulance engine and sirens alerting them that it was also on its way out. "With any luck, the captain will be explaining his actions to us in only an hour or two. EMT's promised to have him cuffed to his bed for when that happens," he announced. "Support crew's just a minute or two away, and there's not a lot of space here," he told Wolford and Fangmeyer. "While normally I'd love to stay and chat, but I need you two to go." Despite his words, he did reach out with a paw to let Dahlia shake it. "Thanks for arriving as quickly as you did. Having the pilots here with a hostile, and worse, armed crew is just asking for trouble we can't afford right now." With Dahlia having shook his paw, he returned the gesture to James. "We'll catch you around! Take care of yourselves!"

"We're not the ones about to confront an angry ship's crew. You take care of yourselves!" Dahlia let James take the lead and hop into the passenger seat of their car, but only after confirming that the pilots were already inside. Turning around slowly in the tight space, she retraced their path in and followed it out of the docks, pulling over and parking at the far end of the parking lot where they were surrounded by nothing more than a load of empty lots.

"Why'd we stop?"

Dahlia turned around in her seat to look at the pilots. "Anything we should be aware of before we get back to the precinct?"

Count glared back at her. "No, what's with the Spanish Inquisition? Savage covered everything back there pretty well. So if you don't mind, you can drive us back so that we can go back to our cells, and get back to your own work."

With a quiet groan, Dahlia rubbed her forehead. While it was very much a mutual animosity, there was no denying that their now much colder relationship with the pilots wasn't wearing thin on her. While Count was always a smug I-hate-everyone type of guy, for these past couple of days, he was really proving to be impossible. "Count, crews normally don't bust out weapons when their ships are boarded for inspection at a foreign port. It's very much standard procedure and should have been expected."

"Well maybe this once we didn't have anything to do with it!" Count snapped, glaring through the polycarbonate panel between them. "Last time I checked, I'm a pilot! We don't get trained on how to fight on the ground! Just a couple of hours on the range to make sure that we know which end of the rifle the bullet flies out of, and that's it!" He scoffed at the idea. "Pretty sure you're better with that pistol of yours than I am. Do you really think that I went to that ship today, which we didn't actually even have a chance to board before you two showed up, mind you, and thinking that I feel like getting into a gunfight? With a crew that probably has at least a bit more experience than I might have, since they are expected to occasionally deal with piracy and get trained accordingly? No? Thought not."

"Can we just go?" James complained, "Save it for the precinct, okay? So Fangmeyer, drop it. You too, Count."

"I didn't say anything about what your intentions were," Dahlia said slowly and carefully, ignoring her partner. "I only wanted to point out that this is a very unusual situation, and I don't want to find out from Bogo that you were somehow involved after all." She adjusted her gaze on the one person in the car who hadn't said a word this entire time. "Trigger? What about you?"

He barely reacted, grunting in dismissal as he silently stared out of the window.

Dahlia frowned. While she still had her doubts about his past record, the fact that his standard procedure was now even more so to clam up wasn't exactly earning him any favors. "Might you at least look at us while we're talking to you?"

Still without saying anything, he at least turned his head to glare back at her.

She hesitated, noticing something off beneath his fur around his right eye. "Count, did the two of you get into a fight recently?" she asked slowly. Both her tone and the question itself also drew the attention of James, who turned around in his own seat to take a look for himself.

"As a matter of fact, we didn't," Count replied smugly. "That, for once that wasn't me."

Dahlia growled underneath her breath, her suspicions confirmed that she was indeed looking at a rather large bruise. Her cop instincts weren't making things up. "Trigger, what happened? Who did this?"

"I don't know," Trigger answered without hesitation.

"Trigger-"

"-I said I don't know!" He turned his head back to stare out the window. "Didn't see!"

"Don't look away from me, Trigger! There's no way that you don't know! Someone hit you right in the eye, and we need to know who!" When he refused to answer, she turned her attention to the other pilot. "Count, you sure just now sounded like you know! Who was it?"

Count shrugged. "Santa Claws?" He was about to grin at his own joke when he stopped cold at the very sudden and very strong growl of warning from James.

"This is an extremely serious matter, Count," James reminded, even colder and more serious than Dahlia was just moments before. "We need to know. Want us to leave you alone and just do our job? Sucks to be you right now, because this is our job."

Count crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. "Well if Trigger says he doesn't know, than I guess I don't either," he mumbled lamely. "Guess he really didn't see." He jabbed Trigger in the shoulder, failing to get any reaction out of the smaller pilot. "He's always got his head up in the sky somewhere. It's a miracle he can see anything, really."

James opened his mouth to argue some more, but was stopped by Dahlia.

"Count…" She again chose her words carefully. "Maybe for this instance, you need to realize that this isn't about you or Trigger, but something much more serious."

"Yeah? And what would that be?"

"That if someone feels confident enough to beat up one of you in the precinct," Dahlia said quickly before he can think of something else smart to say, "what are they doing out in the streets they are supposed to be helping? You want us to drive you back and do our own jobs? Let me ask you this, how are we supposed to go back and help the public out when there's one of us running around feeling like they can rough up anyone they feel like and get away with it? Not in Chief Bogo's district. Folks out in the city hate cops enough as it is. The least we can do is get rid of actual bad cops."

"Can you at least tell us why they did it?" James quickly added.

Count's eyes narrowed. "You know why."

"No, we actually don't," Dahlia answered. "Bogo made sure your history didn't leave his office. Or are you saying Hopps or Wilde leaked out that info?" Just the mere idea of the thought put her at ease, but she knew that those two officers were more than respectable enough than to do such a thing. But fearing which direction this conversation was going, she did something she would never actually do. Reaching over to the dash, she shut off the car's voice recorder, locking gazes with James for just a moment as she did so.

Count gave out a laugh. "Oh, you didn't hear the latest rumor flying around of what we're responsible for?"

Dahlia hesitated. Truth be told, she hadn't. "No," she eventually admitted. "I at least don't know. Care to enlighten?"

"Oh, so is that why half the cops think we're smuggling drugs through the precinct?" Trigger snapped suddenly, turning back into the car. "After all, what a better center of operations than a police station!"

James looked confused. "You almost sound like that's worse than what's actually going on." He glanced over at the voice recorder that Dahlia had just turned off, feeling paranoid but justified so as he checked to make sure that yes, it was in fact off. "Do you really want the whole place to know that you have a presidential assassination on your record? And worse, what if it leaks out?"

"Because it's at least true!" Trigger hesitated when even Count glanced at him in bewilderment. "N- not that I did it, because I didn't! But that it's on my record!" he hastily explained. "I mean… just for once, can't things happen because of something that I actually did? How the hell am I supposed to prove that I'm not smuggling drugs? By showing the stashes I don't have that aren't there?" He turned back to staring out the window. "I know it's not your call to make, but I would approve if Bogo would finally just let everyone else know. He had no issues with letting you know… and frankly, the secrecy got old that same night you took us in."

"Always a dumbass." Count scoffed.

James shook his head. "You have a… very interesting sense of morality," he commented, not even sure if it was meant to be an insult or not. "You… do actually remember that, if I remember correctly, that we're also forced to keep silent about you two's record to anyone not because of what Chief Bogo decided, but because your own Ocelotian government is forcing us to. We can't make a call on letting the officers know about what's really going on, and neither can Bogo for that matter."

"I know that!" Trigger said sharply. "It's just that… forget it. What's the point?" He went back to glaring out of the window silently.

Dahlia shared a glance with James before returning her attention to the pilots. "Point or not, we'll still need to talk to Bogo about that eye of yours," she reminded. "He needs to know that this is going on within his precinct, and you both know that he will be talking to you. So Count, Trigger, if you want to tell us now who did it, it will help things a lot."

"No!" Trigger snapped.

"And you can take that as a final answer," Count added. "So to be a broken record, drop it and drive us back. Do your jobs."

"Job? Some job you two have," James argued before he could stop himself. "You've been on vacation for how long now?"

"We would be doing our own jobs that entire time if anyone would have asked for our opinion!" Count growled. "You call walking around a city with a shock collar vacation? Well guess what? I preferred risking my life every day in a fighter cockpit, thank you very much. Compared to being stuck here? Let's compare!" He crossed his arms defiantly, and to the officer's surprise, actually did start listing off. "Food's better - A whole lot better, in fact. Sleep's good and uninterrupted. No risk of sudden bombing due to faulty radar defenses. What else? Oh, stable schedule. Low expectations. Leisure time. Hell, an entire metropolitan city to experience that leisure with! Variable but predictable climate. You all actually like working for Bogo, so don't get me started on working under McDicksey!" He leaned back against his seat. "Need I go on?"

"For what it's worth, I rather liked being around you guys," Trigger added quietly, "at least until the files got leaked."

"Point is," Count continued, "it's boring! And even worse, but last time I checked, war's not over. Penal until run by an asshole or not, but we at least got to hit Urusia back for what they did to us. They can run to the tabloids all they want how we started the war with our politics and building the space elevator and whatever, I don't care. They shot at us first! And unlike being stuck here, over there we can shoot back. Bogo'll have my head quite literally if I killed Svenitsovich. But back at Zapland? Well, I won't exactly get a medal for it, but I won't be punished for it either."

"Why would you want to-?" It took a few moments for Dahlia to remember why Count randomly name-dropped Officer Svenitsovich. Since he was on the night shift most days, the two would have hardly run into each other – oh, right, Svenitsovich was Urusian. Well, was, having lived in Animalia for most of her life. All the more, she was a fine officer who knew very well that her duty was to Zootopia and Animalia first, and to his home country second. The one time she had seen Svenitsovich interact with the pilots, if there was any hostility towards them, it was very well hidden.

"Was it by any chance Sve-"

"No! It wasn't her! And I won't tell you who it was even if you did guess correctly!"

Rolling her eyes, Dahlia figured it was in fact better to drop the matter. "You know what? You're right, forget it. But I can't predict what Bogo will say about this. But my gut says it won't be good for either of you. You both have the drive back to change your minds about keeping quiet about this."

Turning the engine back on, she drove back to the precinct in silence, letting the police radio keep them up to date as to what the other officers on patrol were up to. Luckily, the city was only up to its usual antics, with calls coming in about the usual troublemakers, and the occasional call for help with a traffic accident. In other words, a completely normal day, and one that they would be going back to as soon as the pilots were dropped off. Certainly a change of pace compared to what was a possibility of storming a foreign ship back at the docks.

Not that it made the drive back any less awkward, with the two pilots stubbornly remaining silent in the back. Even James was unusually quiet, possibly in order to give Count or Trigger the opportunity to talk. But as they pulled into the parking lot, it was evident that the pilots weren't in the mood to diverge the information. As she unlocked their door to let them out, Dahlia let out a frustrated huff of air as they slid out of the car without even a word of thanks for the transportation, a small if pleasant interaction that they had at least had a habit of doing before their records leak.

"James?" Her partner stopped as she called his name. "Mind taking them back to their cells? I'm going to talk to Bogo."

He looked over her nervously. "Alone? He's not going to like that, you know."

"Yes, but unless it was one of us who gave that black eye, I doubt he will be mad at us, so that gives me a chance. Just… wait for me in your cubicle, since I doubt that I'll be done before you."

James gave her a slight grin. "What can I say? Good luck!"

"Uh, James, the pilots?"

"What about them?" However, when he turned back around, he felt a pang of fear surge through him when he realized that it was just him and Dahlia alone at the parking lot. "Damn it, see you later, Fangmeyer!" Rushing inside the precinct, he locked onto the first mammal who could help him. "Clawhauser, have you seen-?" He couldn't even finish the question before the chubby receptionist waved him off.

"Relax! They've already gone down stairs. Any reason why they're in such a hurry?"

Knowing that he wouldn't allow himself to relax until he knew that they both were safe and locked inside their cells, James was already rushing after them. "Not that I know of. Thanks Ben!" Luckily, it was only a short dash before he caught up to them. And even better, they were indeed heading down the corridor that could only lead them back to the holding cells of the precinct. "Count! Trigger! Seriously, what's the rush?"

Count shrugged lamely, stopping upon hearing his name. "Oh, I don't know, but nearly getting shot at in the morning by a smuggling ship's crew doesn't seem quite so appealing right now. I don't know about Dumbass here, but I didn't feel like waiting for you to finish making out with your girlfriend while I have a crumby old laptop waiting for me back at my cell. So unless you want to continue wasting my time?" He turned and continued walking quickly down the hallway, not even giving James the chance to stop him.

At least the second pilot wasn't so quick to follow suit.

"Trigger, wait." Just in case, James grabbed the coyote by the shoulder to prevent him from leaving. "I need to talk to you about something." He let go when the statement earned him a growl of warning.

"I told you, I'm not saying who did it," Trigger said. "So just leave it already, will you?"

"And why not?" James snapped back quickly. "What's in it for you if you don't say anything?" He caught himself falling for the argument again and shook his head. Ever since the leaks, it became far too easy to start yelling at the pilots, even when he wasn't the one wanting to start anything. "No, look, Dahlia's talking to Chief Bogo right now about that, so you can continue to keep quiet all you want, but he will find out one way or another. No, I actually wanted to talk to you about something else."

Trigger crossed his arms. "Yeah? Like what?"

"A couple of days ago, I took a look at the files you put on that music player you borrowed," James answered calmly. "When we went to the coast, remember?" He felt an odd sense of satisfaction flow through him when he noticed a flash of longing cross the pilot's eyes at the mention of the trip they had all taken, only to be quickly replaced by a fresh look of anger.

"Sure, I remember, so what?" Trigger glared up at the officer, and tugged at the fur around his neck, still sporting a discolored section from repeated burns from the collars. "Got a nice souvenir from that, but so what? You a psychiatrist now?"

James gave Trigger a look of disappointment. "I recall you saying you had a good time that day."

"...I did have a good time," Trigger admitted, scratching his arm nervously, the anger momentarily gone from his voice, only for it to return a mere moment later. "Until the collar ruined it all. So you want to get to the point? The music player?"

"I just wanted to know why you chose to put the particular music on that you did," James explained. "I couldn't help but notice you kept it rather well organized. I also looked at the log files I dug up from the device. They recorded what you were listening to for both the ride in, and then back out. Your choice of music is… interesting."

"So you do want to play armchair psychiatrist," Trigger said with narrowed eyes, looking like he was about to leave and follow after Count.

James gritted his teeth. "Trigger, wait, just hear me out, okay? So sure, maybe I am playing psychiatrist. I don't know. What I wanted to say is that the music you added was certainly not what I expected."

Trigger rolled his eyes. "What were you expecting?"

"I… don't actually know," James admitted with a blink of confusion. "I guess I was expecting something that would help me better understand-" he checked both directions of the hallway to make sure that they were in fact alone. "-Whether or not you're actually a murderer or not."

"I thought you weren't allowed to talk about that!" Trigger hissed.

"Not to each other," James clarified. "Chief doesn't want your info leaking out of the precinct, nor does he want us to change each other's opinions about it, in case Savage or Winters need to talk to us about it. Point is, look, I just wanted to know why you chose to put the particular music on that you did on that music player."

Trigger rolled his eyes as he let out a grumble of annoyance. "Because I wanted to, okay? Do I need a reason?"

James stared back at him blankly. "Trigger… to repeat myself here, but those songs were organized. Really well, I might add. This isn't something you just 'want to' do, but was planned out ahead of time." He even managed to give the smaller canine a slight smile. "If only because it took time to pirate them down. But don't worry, that's not my jurisdiction." He was relieved to see a hint of a return smile from Trigger before it too was hidden beneath an angry scowl.

"That's because most of the songs I added were not pirated," Trigger mumbled lamely. "And I own legal copies of every single one. Just you can image I have a hard time accessing those files. But if Savage does come asking about pirated music, you can tell him that."

"That didn't answer why those specifically," James urged again. "Why not something more recent? Or at least more...?" He struggled to find the right word for the feeling he was trying to get across. "...Normal?"

"It's because I remember listening to those songs back when I used to ride in the back of the car over there," Trigger growled out, fists tightly clenched by his sides, gaze quickly averting away from James. "More… more than a decade ago now. But you know what? For a few minutes of the drive, I even felt the same as I did back then." While his gaze softened, his clenched fists and jaw didn't relax like the rest of him did. "Before all of this… shit in my life." Another growl came out of his throat, but this one wasn't directed at James, even as the pilot's gaze snapped at the officer. "So, was that enough for your psychoanalysis?"

"Erm, yeah, I guess so," James said, feeling like he was about to step on a landmine if he didn't tread carefully. "I uh, I think you can go now. Guess it does answer my questions."

"Good," Trigger spat, turning on the spot and shuffled off without another word.

James was still pondering the conversation when he heard the metal door to the cell slam shut behind the pilot. He frowned when he realized that whatever he wanted out of this, he really didn't get what he was looking for. But then again, what was he looking for? Some sort of validation that he can justify feeling betrayed over the secrecy over the pilot's records? After over a week of work resuming to being almost normal, there was still no mistaking the tense atmosphere in the precinct. Unfortunately, that tense atmosphere really tended to increase with the pilots around. No, especially when the pilots were around.

He was about talk back upstairs to his cubicle to wait for Fangmeyer when he remembered that he still needed to do something important. Following after Count and Trigger, he gave the officer guarding the entrance to the holding cells a short nod. "Unlock their cells for me, will you? I need to take their ankle monitors off." While he knew that the devices were more than capable of being worn for long periods of time, if the pilot's collars would be removed whenever they were inside the precinct, there was no reason for them to have to wear the monitors either. After all, if Chief Bogo was even still letting them wear ZPD gear rather than orange inmate jumpsuits, then they weren't officially considered prisoners yet. Or maybe they were, except not really. James shook his head, trying to ignore the confusion that always came with trying to figure out the legal status of the pilots, feeling glad that it wasn't actually his job to figure this problem out. Stepping inside Trigger's cell first, he gave the pilot a quick glance over.

Trigger was lying on his bed, staring absentmindedly at a large stack paperwork, worn pencil clenched unused between his teeth. An even less used calculator lay next to his head precariously on the edge. "Do you mind?" His tone made no effort in hiding his disdain at having his even small amount of personal space invaded.

James showed him one of the keys from his toolbelt. "I can leave that tracker around your foot on if you want me to leave," he said simply. "Doesn't make a difference to me, and they go through their battery far slower than those collars." Trigger grumbled as he shoved his leg out, lifting a pant leg to reveal the tracker. "Work from Savage and Winters?" James asked as he unlocked the device.

"Beats reading the same magazine a hundred times over." Trigger answered quickly, returning his attention back to the papers. Combat pilots or police officers, it always came down to paperwork, didn't it?

The ankle tracker unlocked, opening slightly and shifting Jame's gave, allowing something to catch his attention from just the edge of his vision. As he stared at Trigger's F-15C Eagle pilot operating pawbook lying on the floor, just about hidden underneath the bed, he realized that this was the first time he had stepped into the cell since after the leaks.

The book was completely shredded and torn in what must have bee a fit of rage.

"Seriously, are you going to just stand there and stare?" Trigger asked suddenly, tearing Wolford away from his thoughts. "Don't exactly have a use for that anymore, do I?"

"Sorry-" James started to apologize, only to be cut off by the pilot.

"Can you just go?" Trigger sat the papers down to allow him to glare at the officer. "Or is there something else you need from me, officer?"

Wolford opened his mouth to argue, but decided that it wasn't worth it. "You know, Trigger, just between you and me, but for someone who always insists that you're not a criminal, you really do have the attitude of one. Just thought you ought to know." He didn't stick around to wait for Trigger's reply.

Count was already waiting in his own cell, with an unusual request. "While you're taking the ankle monitor off, mind if I ask you for a favor?" He looked nervously at the wall separating his cell from Trigger's. "Just not where he can hear us."

"Yeah, sure." Not sure where the request was heading to, James lead the second pilot to just into the corridor where they had just come from. "You wanted to ask something?"

"Well, while I was rushing past Clawhauser's desk, I overheard something on his TV," Count said in a hushed voice. "Something about some industrial accident in Bana City. Pushed Trigger past it before he could stop and listen in for himself. Know anything about it?"

"No, can't say that I have."

"Well can you look into it? Since the Chief took away our internet browsing rights ever since, well, you know… Just don't tell Trigger about it. And actually, if you can, make sure that he doesn't hear about it either. Not until we know that it's not a big deal."

James tilted his head in confusion. "Why keep him in the dark?"

Count gave him a blank stare as though he had suddenly grown a second head. "Come on now, really? I know we both think he's stupid for withholding who whacked him in the eye, but if he wants to keep it a secret, I'll stand by that." He gave James a curious glance. "So yes, for your disclosure, I do know who did it, since I was there. But if you will find out, it'll be from him, not me. Either way, he has enough to deal with. I mean, look at him… When Bogo asked me about it, I told him: I don't think he did what's now on his record. He certainly has the skills to pull it off, but he's too much of a straight shooter to do something like that. "

"Oh… Were you even allowed to tell me that?" That explains the unusual concern coming from Count.

"If not, then forget I said anything," Count said dismissively. "After all, how much worse can things get for us? Not like we actually have any other secrets to hide. So you gonna look into that industrial accident or what?"

"Um, yeah, I can take a look into it." Despite himself, James couldn't help but smile. "You know… Judy's right about you. You act all tough and mean, but you really do care, don't you?"

Count frowned, crossing his arms. "Another thing. Figure out a way to finally free us from here?"

James mirrored the frown, even if he found Count's evade rather amusing. "No, we're still working on that," he said. "I'll be sure to let you know when an update on that front comes up. But until then, if that's all, I think it'll be better for you to head back to your cell now."

"Yeah, well, Trigger's got enough shit to deal with without needing to worry about what's going on back home. So keep me posted!" Just as Trigger had done only a few minutes before, Count turned and left James in the hallway, disappearing back inside his own cell.

A quick look at his phone told him that Dahlia was already done with the Chief, and was waiting for him up in the cubicles. Without another word, James headed up there, taking his usual place next to hers and letting himself catch up on his own work. He did try to search up what was going on in Ocelotia, but apart from the initial story of an industrial accident, there wasn't anything to go with. Any and all news from the country was effectively halted, so apart from the usual online rumor-mill, including how it wasn't actually an accident at all, there wasn't anything credible to go with. Giving up with the search, he went ahead and resumed catching up on his actual work, chatting with Dahlia about it and using their shared notes to get their tedious paperwork done.

It didn't help that he had to make sure to be careful with mentioning things such as Urusian drones and cargo ships potentially smuggling them in. Especially as a regular city cop, it wasn't his job to get involved in such matters.

It was in the middle of this tedious work that a soft knocking on the side of his cubicle dragged his attention away from the computer monitor. Swiveling his chair around, he scanned the isle for the person knocking, but didn't see anyone. Oh, right, that could only mean one person. "Judy? What's up?"

"Chief Bogo's holding a meeting in the bull pen in five minutes!" she informed him quickly. "Didn't say about what, but everyone needs to go!" She bounded off, no doubt to inform the occupants of the next cubicles of the news.

Rising up with a groan, James just about walked right into Dahlia as she exited her own at the same time. "Wonder what that will be all about," he mumbled.

Rather unusually for this time of the day, the bull pen was completely packed, even more so than the usual beginning-of-the-shift meeting. While there was still the usual boisterous roughhousing, it was far more toned down than usual as all of the officers simply wanted to find out why they had to come down here in the first place. Multiple conversations around the room were trying to figure out if anything serious had happened, and that no, nothing over the radios was saying anything out of the ordinary. Wilde was already on his chair at the front row, exchanging jokes with Judy on their phones, but ready to listen the moment Higgins will enter the room. Then two more mammals entered the room, grabbing everyone's attention by the fact that they weren't officers. Or the two pilots for that matter.

"Savage? Winters?" Dahlia was just as confused at seeing them as everyone else were, but she had just seem them only a few hours ago. "Something happened to the ship?"

Jack stopped next to her and James, looking uncharacteristically nervous. Skye continued to the front podium where she started to hook up a computer to the projection system. "N-no, the ship's fine as far as we can tell. Confiscated its cargo though. But if you'll-"

"Oh, so it's about the captain? Did he say anything?"

Jack let out a nervous chuckle. "Actually, he didn't make it. Suffered an allergic reaction to the tranquilizer concoction, medics weren't able to revive him after his heart stopped. Died on the way to the hospital, but well, there really wasn't anything else we could have done about him. His body will be flown back to Urusia, and that's that."

James winced. "Dang, that's disappointing. How are the Urusians reacting to the news?" He was all too aware that the conversation was already grabbing Judy's and Nick's attention, even as the two were pretending to to be listening in.

Jack glanced around nervously. "Well, I don't really know. There's a bigger thing going on right now for them to worry about. Us too for that matter."

Dahlia frowned. "Is that why we're all here right now? Why am I getting the feeling that you're not here because of what happened in the morning down at the docks?"

"Because we're not here over that," Jack said with a nod of his head. "Look, let me finish setting up here, and Chief Bogo'll explain everything when he'll show up. Should be here soon..." Leaving the officers alone, he rejoined Skye's side behind the podium.

'Here soon' translated to less than a minute, with Chief Bogo arriving even before Higgins and immediately demanding that everyone settle down, his glare making sure that the room fell into complete silence. "Now that I have everyone's attention," he announced, "we can get to it. Savage, Winters, if you may?"

Jack brought a stool over so that he and Skye can actually have their heads above the podium. "Right, so some of you might have seen or heard in the news already about an industrial accident in Ocelotia's Bana City," he explained. As Winters turned projected several security images of what must have been what he was talking about, he resumed his talk. "It wasn't an accident." This simple phrase stopped the air in the room dead in its tracks as everyone stopped breathing. "Details are still extremely sketchy, but we now know that some four hours ago, at just after 3am local time, Bana City was attacked. Ocelotia was able to stop news immediately afterwards, but it's only a matter of time before the truth gets online and the whole world will know about it. But right now, every precinct in this city and any other with a sizable Ocelotian population are being alerted. Officer Clawhauser is already on the phone with the rest of the ZPD to make sure that they know. Point is, Winters, if you go to slide 5…"

A still from a security image overlooking a parking garage was just barely able to show the dark sky over the city beyond, an oddly colored cloud just off the image frame, illuminated by the city lights below.

"All we know is that the attack was chemical," Jack said solemnly, "we now also know it was done by autonomous bomber. Not a drone, but similar. Urusian. We still don't know who authorized the attack, or why they even did it at all, but at this point, it doesn't matter. We can answer those questions later. But as for the attack itself…" He paused, noticeably taking time to force his composure up.

"We think it was Nighthowler."

Someone in the back of the room swore under their breath. No one else told them to keep it down.

"Aerosolized, packed into a bomb, and delivered by a self-flying bomber," Jack continued. "Identifying itself and flying the same routes as commercial aviation. Was even able to transmit all of the correct radio communications. No one knew anything was odd until it was too late." Despite his best attempts to stay professional, it was obvious that he was having a hard time maintaining his calm. "That's all we know at the moment, I'm afraid. We don't know how many were effected. Or the number of dead. It's going to be a lot, just no one knows how many. But as I said, while Ocelotia was able to keep a lid on it for now, it's only a matter of time before word gets out. And… Chief Bogo?"

Bogo took his place next to the podium. "Little Ocelotia is normally Precinct 6's jurisdiction," he explained, voice focused entirely on the job. "And yes, Clawhauser is already working with them, but no one has any illusions that they have enough officers to maintain calm for when word breaks. I'll guarantee you that there'll be marches. Demonstrations, lots of of angry residents. The same behavior we saw during our own Nighthowler crisis, but this time, it's going to be much worse. We got lucky, no one was killed during Bellwether's scheme. Back then, there were loads of scared mammals who needed to blame someone else for their fear. Just in case any one of you in here forgot our local geography, but Little Ocelotia's well within walking distance of Microrusia. And what's more, now we will be dealing with loads of very angry mammals. Who know exactly who to blame." He gripped the podium tightly as he glared at the officers seated throughout the room. "Whatever your personal opinion about the war is, I don't care. But the residents of Microrusia are no more at fault for what happened as any of you. But things are going to get very heated between our Ocelotian and Urusian citizens. It's your job to enforce the peace as best you can. As long as the city doesn't descend into riots… It's the best we'll be able to hope for at this time. Remember, it's going to be easy to blame the Urusians for this. But remember that if anyone one of them was involved with what just happened, then the law will come down very, very hard on them. But for the others… this city is their home just as it is ours. So while we still have time for now, you all know the drill. Make sure your riot gear is ready to go, preferably in your cars. If your shift is about to end, I won't stop you from going home. For you officers who this will be your first time, listen to those more experienced. Remember your training. Keep our citizens safe, but remember to also keep yourselves safe."

He eased back from the podium when he finished, but didn't step away fully. "Since we don't know how many officers we will need yet, I'm allowing those whose shifts are ending to go home. But you need to stay close and be prepared to head back here at a moment's notice. So for anyone who had weekend or other away plans, forget it. Take the time you have to reschedule. Keep your phones close and charged at all times. Hopps and Wilde, I hate to single you two out, but between ours and the other precincts in the ZPD, we have plenty of large officers and not enough small ones – I'll need you to stay in the building. There's no telling how quickly we will need you to get right into the middle of it. I can't have you getting stuck in traffic." With a heavy sigh, he turned the projector off. "Any questions?"

The room remained silent enough to hear a pin drop.

Then one officer raised their arm. "Sir… Ocelotia's a nuclear power. Do we know if they're planning to retaliate?"

Someone else stood up suddenly, chair screeching backwards and toppling over. "What the hell, dude? Things are bad enough and now you have to have to bring nukes into this?"

"Enough!" A portion of the podium edge fell off from where Bogo banged it hard enough to shatter. "You all need to keep your calm, and that's never going to happen if that's how you're acting already. So get a grip! You're officers in Precinct 1 for a reason. Act like it."

Skye raised her arm to grab everyone's attention. "Ocelotia figured out what happened minutes after the bomb went off. If they were to retaliate with their nuclear capabilities, they would have done so. The ZIA is working hard with them, and even with the Urusians, to figure out just what happened, why, and who was responsible for which parts. That's not to say that the war did not just escalate, but I don't think we need to fear that level of retaliation."

"If you want to call your families to explain to them that you'll be needed here, then go ahead," Bogo added. "But as Savage mentioned, we need to buy our, and other cities as much time as possible before word of the attack spreads. So don't say why you're needed here. Any other questions?"

Judy raised a shaking paw. "Sir… It's bad, isn't it? In Bana city?"

"It's not your job to worry about what's happening over there, Hopps," Bogo answered firmly but calmly. "I need you to focus on Zootopia. But to answer your question, Savage?"

"As far as we can tell… It's bad," Jack confirmed. "After Bellweather, plans were made on what to do in case of an event just like this one. But you know how it is… Thought experiments, theoreticals… This is the first time the world has seen something like this, and Ocelotia was caught completely off guard. They're scrambling to react, but when it comes to Nighthowlers… the longer they delay, the worse it gets."

James stared at his paws resting on his lap, feeling terrible. It was only an hour ago at most since he had seriously considered telling Count that there was nothing to worry about, that it really was nothing more than an industrial accident, and now… This. Even worse, he didn't even know how Count would react to this news, let alone Trigger. And the last thing the precinct needed at a time like this was to have two Ocelotian combat pilots running loose. As much as he hated the thought, James found himself feeling grateful that they were now locking the doors to the pilot's cells.

Another officer raised a paw. "Is there a chance it will happen to us?"

"We're already discussing shutting down all air traffic," Winters answered as she started to shut down the computer, screen going dark on the wall behind her. "But my hunch? No, it's not going to happen again. Urusia's working hard to help us figure out what's going on. They're not saying anything, but my hunch is that the attack came as a surprise to them just as much as for everyone else."

"So you're saying it was done by a rogue agent? Who just happened to have a newly created Nighthowler bomb and an automated bomber at their disposal? Seems like a far stretch!"

Skye glared at the room. "I can't confirm or deny anything that isn't my own personal opinion, but yes, I think the attack was done outside of the command of the Urusian military. So if it will help you when dealing with the Urusian Zootopians, yes, I do believe they will be just as appalled by all of this when they will learn about it just as the rest of us. Savage? Anything to add?"

Jack opened his mouth, but hesitated when the door to the bullpen burst open, Clawhauser panting and leaning against it for support, phone raised high for everyone to see.

"The news just got out!" he panted out. "Everyone just found out! We're out of time!"