Chapter 44: In the doctor's officer's
Perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised to be back in Doctor Crenspaw's precinct office, but James didn't exactly like it – he wasn't scheduled to see her today, and couldn't help but be extremely nervous as he walked into the room. After all, he only had the past fifteen minutes of the normally five minute drive over to Madge's office stuck in traffic to worry about why Bogo asked him to make the drive over. As he sat down on the couch, he couldn't help but notice that his paws were shaking, so he gripped the armrests tighter to try and help hide the movement.
The squirrel watching him gave him a warm smile to try and get him to relax. "Good to see you again, James. I know this is unusual, but I can assure you that you don't have anything to worry about. Before we get started, may I suggest some tea? I think I have a kettle freshly made in the waiting area."
James blinked. "T-Tea?" He wasn't sure what to make of it, and found himself squirming in his place. "Did Chief Bogo say something? I've been showing up to work more or less on time. If anything, he already complained that I seem to be working too much for someone who should be taking a break. I- I've been getting enough sleep! Still get nightmares all the time, but it's getting better I think. The internal affairs investigation isn't helping at all in this case. But wh-"
"James?" Madge smiled at him again. "You're not in trouble. Far from it. You're doing remarkably well for someone dealing with what you are going through right now."
The officer blinked, unsure what to think or feel. "So… Why am I here then? I uh-" he scratched at his arm, feeling foolish. "Chief Bogo asked me to drive over. Made it sound urgent. And that I didn't have a choice in saying 'no'."
"That might just be Chief Bogo," Crenspaw said. "I never wanted it to sound urgent, but as it is, you being here on time is quite important, because it's not just you. I also asked for Judy to be here, which I believe she's heading over as we speak. And she's bringing Humphrey with her."
That made more sense why he had to be here outside of the normal schedule. "So it's about him, isn't it?" Despite feeling quite content recently, the surge of anger at being told that he was here because of Trigger caught him off guard. James stood up suddenly, even before he himself fully registered what he was doing. "I uh… I'm going to get some tea. I'll be right back."
Not waiting on Dr. Crenspaw, he left the room, feeling all to well how his nervous fidgeting from before was now replaced with an angry shaking instead. Breathing heavily on his short walk back to the waiting room, he spotted the kettle sitting on a small table. Grabbing a mug from a stack next to the kettle, he slowly poured himself a drink, watching his paws as they continued to move on their own due to his own fluctuating emotions. Frowning in thought, he stared at the filling mug as he wondered just why he felt so angry just now, and how little it took him to get to this state from the more or less normal state he thought he was for most of today.
"Officer Wolford?"
James looked up and behind him, eyes locking in on the source of the unfamiliar voice. "Yes? That's me."
Only two other people were in the room him, both of them together, of which he recognized one, even if without a military uniform like last time he saw him – the horse Ocelotian AWACS officer Bandog. James never expected to see the AWACS officer again, but there he was, unmistakable scowl not too dissimilar than what Count likes to sport. The other mammal was a melanistic cougar in civilian clothing whom he didn't recognize, but must have been the one to ask him with his name, a paw held out to shake in greeting.
Accepting the gesture, James felt an unease at the cougar, who seemed to be inspecting him rather closely. Which, combined with how this guy knew his name already, and on top of his already tense mood, left him scrambling for answers. Although, if he was with Bandog, than how he knew about James wasn't all that much of a mystery. "Didn't expect to see you again, Bandog," he said truthfully, "And you, so you already know who I am. You are-?"
"I was hoping that we would have been able to meet when you were visiting my airbase, but I was only able to run into Officer Wilde," the cougar explained with a warm smile, completely contrasting with Bandog's scowl. "Major Easly, USAF. I apologize for a lack of uniform, but I thought it best to show up without causing a ruckus. Your cousin, Kyle, he's a head mechanic for my aircraft, and I even dare say, a mighty good one at that. If you're a good of a police officer as he is an aircraft mechanic, well then, Chief Bogo is blessed to have you in his precinct."
"I'm curious what will happen when we put your cousin up against our squad mechanic," Bandog commented with a smirk. Unlike Major Easly, he didn't offer to shake James' paw, one hoof tucked into a pocket and the other clutching a suitcase tightly. "Don't think he ever built a flyable jet out of a bunch of scraps. But if he's as good as I am told, then we can certainly use his skills. Heard you were the one to find Trigger when he finally went nuts and gone AWOL, so perhaps it runs in the family."
James hoped that his sudden nervousness at the description wasn't too apparent, a feeling that was much easier with the sudden anger he felt at Bandog's jab at Trigger. He really wasn't ready to be praised for his work as a cop just yet. So instead, he chose to react to the strange sort of compliment that he received from the Ocelotian. "It wasn't just me who found Trigger. And we… Really didn't do much more than pick him up." He wasn't sure how much he was allowed to say, so he brought his attention back to Major Easly. "I- I think I recall hearing your name a few times," he instead said, pulling his arm back to his side, and then remembering the tea he came here for, grabbed the warm mug instead. "But I'm afraid I don't know why you are here. Didn't even know you would be here, to be completely honest. I drove here thinking I needed to show up because of my, err- recent work performance."
Easly nodded grimly. "Kyle told me about the incident. Chief Bogo also filled me in, due to the risk of it involving the pilots. But you cousin did ask me for permission to take the train over to Zootopia to be able to see you after what happened, but I'm afraid we really needed his skills at the time, and so I wasn't able to clear him. Combined with that we'll all be flying out very soon, I'm afraid that I don't see a way for him to visit in the near term. Please accept my deepest apologies for that." Bandog didn't look too pleased to be left out without any details, but this wasn't a conversation for him.
"I… sure, I can do that." James was hoping that the subject will change, and fast. "So why are you here then?"
Another grim expression. "I believe you're already aware that the plan is for the two pilots to transfer to my squadron," he said in a low voice, dropping it so that even James had a hard time hearing. "We came here to help clear up some... last minute difficulties. But that's all I'll say outside the office." He motioned at the mug in James' paws. "I see you're well prepared. Hopefully we won't need to wait on the others for too long." Grabbing a mug for himself, he motioned for James to take the lead in heading back to Crenspaw's office, which they did in silence. James especially felt rather awkward knowing that this cougar was high ranking enough, and that if he was here, things were quite serious.
Entering the room again, he sat down quietly, placing his mug on a small desk in front of the chair he chose. One that he swore was slid into position while he wasn't in the room, but Madge was already busy exchanging small talk with Major Easly and Bandog, and still perched on her own elevated chair. Feeling like it was a bad idea to just barge into the conversion, James took to picking up the mug and occasionally sipping some of the warm tea.
"-Officer Wolford?"
James looked up, realizing that he had gotten lost in his own thoughts. "Yes?"
"Anything you would like to ask Easly or Bandog?" Madge asked gently, "while it's just us here?"
Thinking for a few moments, the officer decided to take up the offer. "So the pilots, they'll be flying with you, right? Or are you just here as a representative to the unit they'll be transferring to?"
"Count and Trigger are both lieutenants," Easly explained after a thoughtful look. "Meaning that they're commissioned officers. Count technically outranks Trigger, but barely. If anything, Trigger should have been a first lieutenant by now, but with his… I don't think Ocelotia bothered to keep up with his rank while they still considered him a murderer." He glanced over at Bandog, who rolled his eyes with a grunt. "But a lieutenant is the lowest rank allowed for fighter pilots. So your cousin, for example, while the finest of mechanics, being a sergeant, can't be a pilot. To elaborate further, a lieutenant's responsibility is the aircraft they fly, and the mission they need to accomplish with it. We all do tend to forget, that after all is said and done about the latest and greatest fighter jets, that they're still ultimately just tools, and the job they can accomplish is ultimately up to their pilot. The next rank up is captain, which is responsible for a squadron, or a flight wing. Above that is my rank, Major. I'm in charge of multiple squadrons, and my role is to make sure that the mission as a whole is accomplished, while also being aware and planning for the greater mission as a whole. Often times, I'm afraid to say that it involves staying behind and pushing papers. So I do get to fly out every now and then, but not always, and getting rarer by the day. So to answer your question, then yes, if things proceed smoothly-" Easly grunted with a barely hidden chuckle. "-I really shouldn't laugh, but so far they have gone anything but smoothly. But, if plans don't change anymore, then yes, Count and Trigger will be flying with me. I'm not just here as a representative, but as their future superior officer."
"But you're Animalian," James muttered dumbly, feeling like he already heard the answer several times. "They're Ocelotian. You're USAF, like Kyle, they're OADF. How does that work?"
"Not too differently than if a different police precinct loaned out several of their officers to the ZPD," Easly answered calmly, leaving James feeling that this wasn't the first time explaining things to a civilian. "A lot more paperwork, as they are foreign officers belonging to a foreign military, but pilot exchanges like this are not unheard of. Happens all the time during peacetime for training purposes, in fact. Air forces will loan out equipment and forces to allied nations to train with and improve integrated capabilities."
James thought for a moment more. "Count and Trigger have been fighting in an active war. You think peacetime training will be enough to cover the difference, or do you see tension between them and the other pilots?"
"They adapted quickly enough to being shuffled into a penal unit," Bandog answered swiftly and firmly. "And back to being watched over by a bunch of civilians. They'll be fine."
Easly ignored the Ocelotian officer's comments. "That's a good question," he said this with a slight grin. "And a question that does make me feel better about that Officer Wilde hadn't run his mouth off." He exchanged a knowing look with Crenspaw and Bandog.
This caught James completely off guard. "What does Nick have to do with this?"
"This is the part where I remind you that nothing we're discussing here leaves this room," Easly instead said firmly, then his voice softened back to its normal tone. "But I have flown in combat. Same with the rest of the squadrons I command. In fact, it were non other than Trigger and Count who were tasked with coming to our aid when we were in a bit of a pickle." The grin turned into a genuine smile, even as the police officer next to him sported a mortified expression at learning this. "I think I can safely say that there's a strong possibility that I wouldn't be alive right now if it wasn't for Trigger." He jerked his head in Bandog's direction. "Bandog's timely coordination of scattered aircraft in severe weather was much needed aid as well."
Madge jolted and pulled her phone out, scanning at a text message. "There's time for one more question," she announced. "The others are almost here. Just a couple of minutes out."
"If you've been in combat…" James held his breath for half a second. "Have you ever killed anyone before? Count and Trigger are both… They rather struggle with that. Especially Trigger." He couldn't help but glance at Bandog's direction, worried that he might have said too much.
Major Easly watched him carefully, gaze filled with compassion. "Is that an observation on them, or on yourself?" He ignored James' uncomfortable squirming. "But to answer the question, no, I haven't killed anyone. This is something I can't help them out with. Or you, for that matter, I'm sorry." He clasped his paws together, deep in thought. "Nor do I believe that anyone else in the squadron they'll be transferring to have killed anyone. But, they'll both have resources that they'll be able to utilize about that. That's one of the reasons we came here, in fact. Bandog, want to add anything? You were leading them during what I understand was one of the worst phases in the war."
"No, I don't think I do."
"And you? Have you killed anyone?" James asked this staring directly at Bandog, silently daring him to avoid answering the question. Perhaps it was his tone, or it might have been something else, but the Ocelotian visibly squirmed at the attention he was receiving.
"I wasn't the one who pulled the metaphorical trigger, as it were," Bandog finally said, "but I was the one who made the call to mark targets for destruction during the opening combat. You can imagine what I had to deal with when I found out before we even landed that I marked down the location of schools, not anti-air batteries." He let out a angry scoff. "We didn't know at the time yet that the Urusians were messing with our sensors in real time. So yeah, got those skeletons in my closet. Gave the Urusian public relations a huge boost internationally, didn't it though? And if it only worked well with me, then it worked absolutely perfectly when it came to the mission to rescue Hareling, didn't it?" He gave off another annoyed grunt. "Always knew where was something about Trigger that didn't seem right about his being in our unit. Didn't stink like the rest of the lousy convicts over there."
"What about Count?" James asked quickly.
Bandog shrugged, now letting out a huff of indifference. "What about him? Talks the talk, has the skills to survive, but that's about it. Everyone knows he inflates his kill counts to look better when McKinsey came calling." Now it was his turn to watch the officer carefully. "While we still have a few seconds left before he shows up, how about you tell me how Trigger's doing now? He was already barely holding it together to begin with last time we saw each other. Now I find out that he was innocent of murder, and went AWOL. Should I expect to find a pilot, or a crazy lunatic ready to snap?"
James gritted his teeth in agitation. "His family was murdered in that attack on Bana City," he clarified slowly, also watching Major Easly to see if only one of the two did not have the correct information. "That was why he ran away. We only found out about his innocence after we found him again."
"So he completely lost it then?" Bandog asked again.
"Bandog?" Madge piped up to let them know that they were still in her office. "You're not back at your penal unit. Please be professional at the very least. I conducted the psychological evaluation on both pilots, and I sent it to everyone relevant. Until then, quiet down, and keep your comments to yourself if you insist on insulting everyone." She pointed at Jame's mug. "I can recommend you also grabbing some warm tea. Might calm you down some." While Bandog didn't look pleased in the slightest to be scolded like a young colt, he nevertheless stood up and left the room, coming back a minute later with an appropriately sized cup of his own. Crenspaw allowed herself a grin at his relenting to her advice.
Another minute later, and a knock at the door let them know that the others had arrived. And it wasn't just someone – for as soon as Crenspaw called out to let them know that they can come in, no less than Count, Trigger, as well as Nick, Judy, and even Dahlia walked in. The tiger's arm was locked into a sling, but otherwise, she looked no worse for the wear. If anything, her muzzle also lit up as soon as she saw James, hurrying over to him and sitting down next to him, giving him a quick if slightly awkward hug with her free arm.
Taking a look at the available space, the others took up available spots among the furniture in the room, Judy taking advantage of her smaller stature in order to sit down right next to Nick even as he chose a spot close to the pilots.
While it wasn't explicitly stated, Count and Trigger took up the center of the largest couch, flanked by the ZPD officers on either side, and watching Bandog wearily in a tense silence.
"Heya, Major! What are the odds of seeing you again?" Trust Nick to figure out how to say something break the silence. Although, upon noticing Judy's stunned silence at how he knew who Easly was, leaned down to whisper to her "I told ya, Fluff, I know everyone!"
Dr. Crenspaw cleared her throat. "It's good to have everyone in here at the same time," she announced. "Officers, while today's business is entirely between Ocelotia's OADF and our USAF, I do feel that your input is going to be critical in this matter, which is why I asked for all of you specifically. I thank you for you all coming here today. Before we get started, any quick questions?"
Count raised a hoof. "Yeah, I got one. Who's this guy?" He motioned towards Major Easly.
"This is the guy you knew as 'Wisecat'," Bandog answered with a smirk. "You've met him. But as of today, you'll know him also as Major Easly. He'll be your company CO once you finally transfer out of four-four-four. Which, if I dare say, about damned time."
"We've talked over the phone," Easly added, at which Count nodded with a heavy frown. "While I was able to briefly meet up with Trigger back at my airbase, you were away and I didn't have the time to catch up. It's good to finally meet you, Count. Especially now knowing just what kind of other pilots you two had to deal with while protecting me and my squadrons. When Mr. X and his squad showed up, I wasn't sure if some of us would be left to get home."
"Yeah, well?" Count looked quite uncertain. "Someone had to do the job. Most of it was down to Trigger though."
"Count had engine trouble, and had to turn back early," Trigger mumbled quietly, staring at his feet while trying to avoid eye contact with anyone else.
Easly's expression softened as he turned his attention to the second pilot. "Trigger? When I mentioned that I spoke with Count over the phone, let me elaborate. I spoke to both Count and Bandog in private including about needing to know exactly what happened on that mission. You don't need to cover for him, I already know."
Judy perked up, looking perplexed. "Know what?"
"Non of your business, Hopps!" Count growled, crossing his arms in agitation. "Can we get back to why we're all here?" This question was directed squarely at Major Easly. "Because I am getting a strong feeling that we're not here because of me. You don't need her around to sign some paperwork for a transfer." He jerked his nose in Madge's direction. "It's because of Trigger like always, isn't it?"
Judy's ears fell. "Ryan? Don't be so mean," she complained. "You weren't the one to lose your family." Her sensitive hearing allowed her to notice the sudden pause in Trigger's breathing, but she couldn't let his feelings get in the way of letting know Count that the larger pilot was over the line in this case.
"We're all in here because of both of you," Major Easly answered rather calmly and patiently. "While on paper, you did pass your psychological evaluation, it also showed issues that will need to be addressed. Not as bad as last time we had you two do these tests, but they're still there all the same. Because, Bandog, correct me if I'm wrong, but between Count and Trigger, isn't Count the one who actually did his crime that got him into the penal unit?" There was a hint of a smirk at the uncomfortable look Count let off at being at the center of such attention.
"Sure looks like it," Bandog answered. "Petty theft in order to run off? Perhaps a misdemeanor in the civilian world at worst, but a crime still."
"I got my name back," Count defended himself with a mumble of complaint. "Deal was my record becomes clean with that."
"That was the deal," an unamused Bandog confirmed. "But you are still officially part of four-four-four. And it's not like anyone here will just forget as to why you got in the first place. You're not innocent like Trigger, and believe me, it shows."
Easly raised a paw to stop Count from arguing. "I am not worried about what had already happened," he spoke firmly, to keep Bandog also in line. "I need to know what I can rely on in the future. Count? You have a problem with authority. I don't care if you feel justified or not, but is that not a fair assessment?"
Count frowned hard. "Only when the guy calling the shots is a moron," he scoffed. "Otherwise, no."
The major raised an eyebrow in amusement. "And how can you tell when that's the case? How do I know I won't see a repeat of the mission where your task was to escort my squadron out safely?" He turned his attention to the others in the room. "Officers? This is where you come in. How likely is it that I will run into issues with his attitude? Fangmeyer, I'm afraid I'll be relying most on you here if I did my homework correctly."
Dahlia nodded, glancing briefly at the deer pilot. "You're correct there, I was in charge of watching over him the most. When we first started watching over Count and Trigger, he did have a nasty attitude about him. Still does, but I'd be lying if I said that he didn't get a lot better. I… Can't actually say if his problem listening to others will show up or not." She gave a helpless shrug. "I'm not a pilot after all. But whenever I really needed him to listen to either me or Wilde, he usually did. With an attitude for sure, but he would listen."
"I'm still right here!" Count complained.
"Nick?" Dahlia motioned for the smaller officer hopefully.
"Oh, he was bad," Nick added with his usual smirk. "Really bad. You would have been stupid to take him on with how he was when we picked him up. But recently? I believe he wants to get his revenge on the Urusians. If that means needing to put up with listening to you, then sure."
"Thank you, Wilde," Count mumbled with a scoff.
"As it is, you're nothing we won't be able to handle, Velveton," Easly said calmly. "Fighter pilots do tend to have a sense of ego to them, so you'll hardly be the first hot shot we've run into. Perhaps not the best attitude to have when entering a new squadron, but to repeat myself, nothing we can't take care of. Don't pick fights with the other squad members, and I think you'll do fine." His expression turned grim. "Which brings us to Lieutenant Reyevski…"
There was no mistaking how Trigger tried to hide by pressing himself into the couch.
"I'm afraid I don't know how to say it other than not mincing my words, Trigger. Your psychiatric evaluation was even worse than last time," Easly continued. "I'm sorry for being so blunt about it in front of everyone else, but we all need to be on the same page here. Before now… I went over the recordings from that simulator test flight. While I do recognize that stunt Colonel McKinsey pulled in order to have you repeat that specific mission was a disgusting act that we can only suspect was an attempt to have us return you back to him, there's no ignoring that your professionalism completely collapsed during that flight. Your flying the next day though? That went a lot better – wouldn't have thought it was the same pilot if I didn't see it myself. That, and combined with what I saw you pull off personally in actual combat, those are the only reasons why we are even considering options other than pulling you off the flight line…"
Trigger squirmed, stuck between James and Count and unwilling to flee by leaving the couch. "They killed my family," he explained in barely more than a whisper. "I had just found out th- that…" he paused, mouth hanging open as he struggled to find the right words. Despite staring at the ground the entire time, his angry eyes suddenly snapped up to stare right at Bandog. "Y-you threatened to have me shot how many times?"
"Humphrey-" Doctor Crenspaw looked alarm at the very sudden hostility. But if she wanted the officers to intervene, she didn't ask them to. Not that the growling coming from his throat didn't cause enough alarm to get James to reach out and hold his arm, just in case. Count was also looking ready to snap into action.
"We all know it wasn't just talk either," Trigger continued. "Or do you still deny that you didn't have Full Band killed? How close did you ever get to pulling that same shit on me?"
Bandog breathed heavily, glaring back at the pilot. "Since I literally had that conversation just before you all showed up, yeah, I had him killed. Marked him as hostile, had Count shoot him down. He had it coming and would have dragged you all down with him had he been alive to return to base. He had to go."
Count twitched as though stung, but settled back down quickly, letting the AWACS officer finish his explanation.
"You seem to forget that I only found out yesterday that you didn't commit that murder," Bandog hissed. "As far as I knew, you were some pathetic bastard that killed someone who could have already ended the war. I'm sorry, did I say 'killed'? Pure cold-blooded murder was what your records showed – can thank Full Band for giving us all a good look at them. So yeah, I was pissed off at you, no… More than pissed off. And it wasn't just me, but just about everyone else over there. And yeah, I was looking for a justification to finish you off, since the Urusians couldn't figure out to. But you had to go off and turn yourself into that 'pilot with the three strikes' that they fear so much, didn't you? Still, guess what? Unless you have a way to travel back in time to bring me that evidence to show me that you were innocent like you spent the entire time there bitching about, I have an alternative idea for you." He leaned as close to Trigger as he could without getting up out of his own chair. "Get the fuck over it!"
"Bandog?" Madge wasn't looking amused, but her tone was controlled. "Control yourself."
"Trigger? Humphrey, no one's blaming you for what happened to you," Easly said with a short but heavy sigh. "No one's… blaming you for how you're feeling, or for failing the evaluation- if anything, I'd be very worried about you if you didn't fail it, frankly. Personally, I sleep better at night knowing that I don't have a psychopath flying for me. I do also know there was pressure from higher up for you to pass the evaluations, but if even half of what I've been reading on you is true, then I can't blame you for needing a break from all of this." He looked thoughtful, even as Trigger went back to staring at the floor miserably. "In peacetime, with an evaluation like that, you'll be grounded for sure. Put in a program to get you through your struggles... Work with professionals until you'll pass the evaluation again. Or…" Easly's gaze was full of compassion, but there was a certain finality to it as well. "No one blames pilots who have to retire early because they had enough," he said slowly.
Trigger's head snapped up. "But they killed my family!" he whimpered desperately. "I can't just- just back down!" He waved around vaguely. "Isn't there a pill or something that I can take?" He watched Madge carefully as he asked this, eyes full of hope to the answer. "I mean, that's what they usually do, right? Just-"
"I'm not allowing a pilot to fly for me while doped up on drugs!" Easly's firm, angry tone startled the pilot for even daring to suggest such an option. Trigger's ears pinned themselves to the top of his head as he shrank back into the couch. "Neither will anyone else, OADF nor USAF. You're a pilot, Trigger. You should know better than to make such a suggestion. You too, Count." His gaze softened as he watched the distraught pilot. "But in an odd sense of irony, you're not being grounded, Reyevski. Quite the contrary. Because after everything, Ocelotia can't afford to have Three Strikes sit around, no matter the reason. However, in the state you're in, we can't just risk strapping you into a cockpit and hope that you don't snap and choose to get some vengeance on Urusia. If you want to fly, the process will be long and difficult… But doable. Bandog? I believe you brought them."
With a grunt, the AWACS officer nodded and reached down below his chair where he stashed the suitcase he had brought with him. Clicking it open, he pulled out what looked like a series of phones, passing one around to everyone in the room, except for Major Easly.
While the officers inspected the phones, ordinary black models without so much as a manufacturer logo on them, and Trigger still too stunned to do other than just stare at his, it was Count who voiced what everyone else was thinking. "So what's this?"
"These are phones, but not regular phones," Bandog said, surprisingly sternly for such a basic answer. "Which absolutely means that you all will only use them as intended. They work like phones... Allow you all to call one another, video call if you want. Only one application installed on them, and no way to add any more, but that's all you need from them. No SIM card in these, they connect straight to the Ocelotian satellite communications network. Which also means that you can't use no signal as an excuse to not using them."
Nick smirked and pulled out his own phone, slightly larger, more well made, and if he had to guess, far more capable too. "We already have phones. Why the fancy spy ones? Would expect you to give these out to those ZIA guys of ours, not us mere ZPD cops!"
Despite the teasing, Bandog didn't actually look too angry at the fox. But he didn't look like he enjoyed the joke either. "These phones were brought over specifically so that we will have access to a tool of our revenge," he said, rather coldly, and while jerking his head in Trigger's direction. "Personally? Despite all the shit I put him through back at our squadron, I'm glad we were able to turn Trigger into a mean pilot. The question is, now that we really need him to, can he pull it off again?"
"Oh, he will," The confident answer came from Count, causing the others in the room to look at him in bewilderment, especially Bandog, who motioned for him to explain himself. With a shrug, he gave Trigger a playful pat on the shoulders, a motion that the smaller pilot faintly tried to fight off. "I mean, he only cried himself to sleep oh… last night." He smirked, very similar to how Nick would when teasing someone, especially as Trigger shot him a particularly nasty glare. "But he also fell asleep to watching fighter plane videos. Who does that? I never did, and I'm a pilot!" He grinned at Major Easly and Bandog. "Have either one of you? No? Didn't think so." Another shrug. "I called him a basket case, back at the airbase, when he had a psych eval that he passed that time. Even more true now, I have to say. But? Whatever made him become a fighter pilot despite being way too over-schooled for it, it's still there."
"Count?" Madge waved her own phone a little. "What he went through is no laughing matter. He needs our help. Which is where these phones come in. We don't have a lot of time left before you and Trig- Humphrey will leave us. Humphrey? You'll be working hard with me before then. Therapy takes time to work, and you especially need as much as you can get before you fly out. But when that day comes, we'll still continue to work together. However, since I have my own schedule, and we can't predict yours, or even what timezone you'll be in, this is where I am asking the officers to step in as well to help you as well."
Trigger glanced nervously at the officers. "Help? How?" They all made various motions to show him that they had just as much of a clue as he did.
"It really should have been finalized with them first," Crenspaw clarified. "But it wasn't even settled until yesterday, so officers, I do apologize for springing this on all of you. But when we were discussing it with Chief Bogo, he also agreed that it might help not just Humphrey, but you as well."
James glanced down at the phone, feeling like she wasn't talking about the others nearly as much as about him specifically.
"While Humphrey's here," Madge explained further, "he's on a hard therapy regime with me- twice a week. And… I just want to point out that normally even admitting this much is a huge breach of patient-doctor confidentiality on my part, but between the OADF and Humphrey being an active duty soldier, the rules are quite different. Unprecedented, really, in this case."
James frowned, struggling hard not to look over at Trigger. Twice a week was already tough on him, but it would have been foolish that something similar won't be forced on the pilot.
"-and he will need to stay on a similar regime even after he leaves. Since scheduling will be extremely difficult, the compromise is that I want him to call at least one of you once a week. Preferably more, but I want a conversation between you to get going."
"But… We're not therapists. We're cops." Trust Judy to state the obvious, but perhaps it was because she was the only one to voice it out-loud. "We'd love to help, but can we even?"
"No, you're not therapists," Doctor Crenspaw confirmed. "It's a huge risk we're taking. But having someone to talk to that Humphrey's familiar with, we believe, is a far smaller risk than leaving trouble brewing. I'll ask you to treat the calls with the confidentiality as you would a sensitive case, and Humphrey, I will be encouraging you to be vulnerable with the officers, but mostly, just keep talking with them while you're gone from us."
Trigger was glaring at the phone, looking close to throwing it away. "And what if I don't want to?" he mumbled, almost to himself.
It was Major Easly who answered. "You fall behind on the calls, you'll be medically grounded." While his tone was gentle, there was no denying the underlying threat. "I can't risk allowing you to lose control while in the cockpit of a combat fighter. If you don't keep up to date with your therapy, you don't get to fly. I will be checking, before you start getting funny ideas."
"And that's not the USAF talking there," Bandog added. "Those are conditions imposed by the OADF. USAF would rather keep you grounded for good – you did fail the evaluation, after all. The required therapy is the compromise they agreed to. Look- you got through Four-Four-Four when you didn't even belong there. Just do what needs to be done, and keep yourself from getting grounded. I know you asked not to be given special treatment, but guess what? If that were the case, you won't even have the option of flying again. Instead, you have half a police station ready and willing to help you out. Don't blow it."
The top of Trigger's muzzle wrinkled into an angry snarl. "Easy for you to say!"
"Out of everyone in this room..." Bandog's voice was hitching, hiding a barely controlled anger. "I think I know better than anyone else what is or isn't easy to say."
Startled, Trigger's expression softened into one of confusion, the meaning behind Bandog's words not lost on the pilot. "W-who?"
Bandog's answer was quiet, but it didn't need to be any louder. "My niece. She was only four years old."
Even as Major Easly and Doctor Crenspaw didn't react surprised, the quiet gasps from the officers in the room spoke enough for their reaction. Even Trigger genuinely looked regretful over his outburst.
"Listen, Trigger, we're not asking you to win the war," Bandog continued, taking the initiative in removing the awkward tension in the room. "But with that out of the way, remember that I'm an AWACS officer. You can bet your ass I'll be doing all I can to make the Urusians pay, but I hardly am in a position to fire at them. But if I can tell someone else where it will hurt the most once they shoot? Yeah, I'll do that. But I'm not going to be your AWAS anymore. Spare squadron isn't going to be a penal unit anymore- we're being reactivated into a regular combat squadron. When we're done here, I'm going back there. But knowing how much hell I've put you through while you were there, damn it Trigger, I know it's going to be hard, but figure out what you need to do to get back in the fight. Doc here says using the phones just to talk with the cops is enough." Finishing his lecture, his expression turned into another frown as he inspected the pilot. "You don't look like you agree…"
"W-What if I'm not good enough?" Trigger looked up, eyes wide with fear.
Clenching his jaws tight in agitation, Count squeezed Trigger's arm reassuringly, even if the gesture had little effect. Judy on the other side also tried to help out as much as she can, but there was only so much either one of them could do to fight off whatever was going on inside his head.
"Humphrey?" Madge carefully inspected him. "While it's understandable that you don't have a lot of confidence in yourself at the moment, don't let it start to define you. I am sure that based on your past performance, that you'll do fine."
"That exactly why we delayed your transfer out of the ZPD by a little, to give you more time to work on that," Easly added. "Had you passed the evaluation, you and Count would both be packing your bags right now."
Count's eyes narrowed. "So… How much time do we have?"
"Two weeks," Bandog answered swiftly. "You fly out on the twenty-eighth. Which my understanding is nowhere near enough to get Trigger out of his slump, but it should get the ball rolling."
"Gee, you sound confident," Count scoffed.
"It will also give you time for a more proper goodbye to the officers," Easly said. "You'll still stay in contact, but I know these phones are not the same. And that also means that you'l-" he paused, looking at the pilots. "Trigger? Are you..?" The pilot, if already agitated before, was downright miserable now. "Humphrey, talk to us."
"...I never said goodbye," Trigger whimpered, bringing his knees up to his chin so that he can hug his legs, tail curling around them protectively. "M-my family. When I was deployed when the war started… I j-just told them… 'I'll see you soon!'" Bitterly, he squeezed his eyes shut. "N-never saw them again!"
An angry huff of air escaped Bandog's nostrils. "Was he always like this?" he asked the officers. "'Cause he sure wasn't like this back when he was still flying for us."
"You of all people should understand why he's like this!" an equally angry Judy shot back. Next to her, a choked whimper from the pilot distracted her away from Bandog, and she instead decided to focus her efforts on trying to calm him down instead.
"I'm not saying that he isn't allowed to feel like shit," Bandog explained himself. "But if he can't control himself now, how's he supposed to get to a point where we can trust him to fight? This crying, slobbering mess isn't Three Strikes. Defintily at least not the Trigger I commanded in the air. Hell, he wasn't this bad last time we saw each other, which wasn't even that long ago. And we need one of those and not the other. You, officers, have a lot of work cut out for you."
Judy stared back defiantly. "And we'll do it!"
Bandog leaned over, even if the effect was diminished due to him sitting a good half room away from her. "Good."
Doctor Crenwspaw cleared her throat, a hint of impatience in the act. "Officers? Bandog, let's not get bogged down in an argument. Humphrey?"
Slowly, Trigger lowered his legs, uncurling himself. "I uh- Sorry. Don't know what came over me."
"You're still grieving," was Crenspaw's answer. "It's only natural. The process is never clean or makes sense. Although, have you tried some of the recommendations I gave to you?"
The pilot shook his head. "It didn't work," he complained. "Didn't make me feel any different!"
"Humphrey?" While normally calm and very nonjudgmental, Madge was letting her disappointment in him show through. "How do you expect to get better if you don't try? Don't you think that Major Easly here won't need to know if you're at the very least putting in effort? How does he expect you to fly well if you aren't trying in this?" When he started to curl up protectively again, she held up a paw to stop him. "We're not expecting you to get better overnight, not even close. Why else do you think I'm asking the officers to help you when you leave? And I won't lie that you aren't handling this quite well considering all you've been through. After all, if you want to find out what grieving the wrong way looks like, just ask James and Dahlia, especially while they're right here in the room with you."
Sure enough, as soon as she mentioned him, James was already wincing, but also nodded to let both her and Trigger know that he was willing to talk if it was needed.
"He already knows what happened," Dahlia clarified for Madge, "but I don't think he knows the exact details."
"-But we do expect effort," Madge explained sternly, focused on Trigger. "And at the very least, honesty. During the grieving process, people make sudden large gains, and sometimes they move backwards. We won't penalize you for that, unless you get to the point where you'll be a danger as a pilot. But don't put effort in, or worse, lie about it to us? There won't be second chances, Humphrey."
Bitterly, Trigger nodded, staring at the ground.
"We'll work more on this in the privacy of our next session, all right?" Again, another nod. Gaze full of compassion, Doctor Crenwspaw returned her attention to the others in the room. "I highly encourage you to try using the phones while Count and Trigger are still here, so that you all learn how to use them. And if you do have questions about what you can and can't do with them, um… Bandog?"
"I'll be working with the major while Count and Trigger are still here," the horse replied. "Not necessarily close, but you can reach me through Chief Bogo if you need me." He smirked. "I hope not to hear from any one of you. No offense."
Nick returned the smirk, clicking his claws and pointing at the AWACS officer. "And I hope not to call you then! I rather like not hearing your voice. No offense!" Ever so slightly, Bandog's smirk wavered momentarily, before returning to full force.
Judy rolled her eyes, at least finding humor in her partner's antics. Even after years working with him, she still couldn't figure out how he knew how to press people's buttons without crossing the line.
"Nick? Bandog?" Madge had a different opinion. "If you don't mind, I think the final thing on the docket is, I'm rather pleased, should be much more pleasant to deal with. Judy? Tell me you brought them."
With a nod and a grin, Judy pulled out her wallet and from inside, unfolded several papers that looked far too big to be stored in there. "Got 'em from Chief before we left!" she proudly announced, starting to give out one to each of the other officers, and then a whole stack to Major Easly. "Tickets to the Gazelle charity concert!"
Frowning, Count flipped his over a view times, inspecting the entry ticket. "What charity concert?"
Judy huffed at his reaction. "I thought you knew about Gazelle..?"
"Of course I know! What's with the concert?"
"It's the charity concert for Bana City!" Judy explained further. "Surely you'll want to go there!"
Grinning, Count tucked the ticket into his pocket. "Says it's in eight days, meaning Trig and I will still be here. Sure, I'm down. Just as long as I won't be asked to pay up – haven't got my funds with me and all. Since it appears that you're all going as well, won't be too bad. Besides, even if I start to think that it's terrible, I'll get my own police escort out of there!" He poked the pilot next to him, who was still blankly looking at his own ticket. "What about you, Trig? Down to a night where you can finally relax? Just think about it! Non of those stupid collars, good music! Good food! Well, most likely, I think." Poking turning into a playful nudge, he tried again. "What about it then?"
"I uh-" The simple fact that he wasn't answering in affirmative was an answer in itself. Only confirmed further when his stammering was followed by a quiet "I don't know…"
This time, Madge was smiling at him, even if there was a recognition of his turmoil in her eyes. "I can do you a lot of good to go out and allow yourself to relax," she pointed out. "It will be a change compared to fighting with your own mind all the time. Plus, Bandog? Major Easly? I recall you two mentioning perhaps bringing a few extra reasons to go there?"
Easly grinned, oddly looking at James rather than Trigger. "Well, unfortunately, I can't confirm just yet, but with the short delay in the transfer, there might be a certain crew chief who might be able to show up with me."
James looked over, startled. "K-Kyle?"
Easly nodded ever so slightly. "If he'll have the time for it, I'm sure he won't mind visiting family before we all fly out."
"Last I heard," Bandog butted in, "there's a certain 'Scrap Queen' and a 'Tabloid' who are both no longer considered as convicts anymore either. Think they'll want to be allowed to show up?"
"Tab'?" Count blinked. "No way! Seriously?" He nudged Trigger again. "Come on, Trig! You can't say 'no' now!"
"Fine!" Trigger clearly didn't look like he was enjoying the pressure at all, but he did relent. "I'll go! Just… Give me time, okay?"
Judy patted his shoulder approvingly. "We can do that."
