A.N. Finally, the last full chapter of SANDCASTLES! (There will be an epilogue) At least you didn't have to wait nearly a year for this update. It did take a couple of weeks longer than I'd hoped, but I feel that gave you a better chapter. Stringing out a lengthy plot for years turned out to be a lot easier than finding a decent way to wrap it up. Please let me know how I did!
Its been fun writing this tale over the past five years-even through the rough spots in life that sometimes delayed it. I hope that I've been able to pass on some of that enjoyment to those readers that tried, and sometimes stuck with me through this effort. Thank's to all of you!
Chapter Thirty Four
Trials and Tribulations Part Two
6:11 PM Wednesday, May 3rd with Nick Wilde, Judy Hopps, and Jack Savage in the Bellevue motel.
"Not going anywhere just yet," Nick soothed into the limp ears that hung from under his paw. His mate's head didn't need its gentle support, as firmly as she held herself against him. He only wanted her to feel that she could stay there as long as she wanted to. Needed to. Which might be awhile.
This whole cussed conspiracy was predicated on a planned, and ultimately publicly sanctioned forced separation of predator and prey mammals within society—to marginalize and slowly strip the rights, and possibly lives, from those seen as less by the fearful and intolerant majority. The last few weeks had driven home that it wasn't just societal, but very personal—a large number of the citizens he and his chosen mate served would see them as an abomination, and work to tear them apart. He'd also learned that they weren't alone in their deviance, as he lifted his gaze to Jack.
"You said they'll hunt me down...eventually...to 'buy them time' Jack. So let's not toss me on their tender mercy just yet. That's an option, but it would remove me from being their at-large criminal mastermind and stone in their hoof. We don't know if your chief Tarija, or anybody else in the conspiracy, has really made an actionably firm connection between Growley and us."
"We have to assume they did Nick. Also, either Growley will do for that I'm afraid," Jack replied quietly, leaving Judy be. "Mister with the jet, Missus with the helicopter. They know we were all there, or involved by proxy, and remember, Tarija assigned me early on to investigate Proteo and Growley. They knew then they needed someone of his prominence to be their...designated representational arch-villain."
"Yeaah, you're only a small-time hustler slick; even got yourself caught by a bunny," Judy said into his fur—letting them know she was still engaged in the conversation. "But you don't have to feel too bad about it, the news said you were mob connected, and Jack did call you a mastermind."
"You're both right, I'm too small-time for this, except for helping them to discredit the ZPD. Same for Skye, she's too small, pretty, and female to be any more than an enabler of my criminal enterprise. The news just said so. Also, we foxes keep a lower profile; it's a bit harder for the conspiracy to present us as an imminent menace to their larger population. We've been on the news because they didn't have anyone else ready to blame! Fangmeyer's right Judy; they need a bigger, scarier threat for public consumption."
"Which makes your capture and rescue a possible break for us, Judy," Jack offered. "It distracted them away from implicating the Growley's—for how much longer we can only guess. We also forced them to focus on plausibly explaining Verda's involvement—they made Nick be the foil for that too."
Right, drew their attention to myself, Nick thought. He shifted his paw and started stroking his mate's ears—she'd need a lot of constant attention after her unintentional deflection of the conspiracy's interest. Last time she was that close to meeting the spirits, in Big's mansion, she hadn't been aware of the threat until nearly the last moments for both of them. Judy hadn't known that persons outside of Big's family and inner circle, rarely saw the mob boss more than once. That was for the shrew to get an initial personal read on new associates. Occasionally, an additional invite would be extended to conduct sensitive business, or to reward exceptional service.
A blunt summons to appear, or a forced audience like theirs, almost always ended in an icing. Big's general reclusiveness and ever present security were quite understandable. It would take only one lapse in the presence of a mammal pushed past their limits for Big to be ended under a slammed paw, or stamped foot. Judy was large enough to accomplish that. As for Growley being villainized...
"I think we still have a little time," Nick said, then raised a finger of his free paw. "Growley's a target, sure, but the initial plan to implicate him was a careful, long-term one, to find or fabricate evidence that his company had once used real meat, and might still supply it for certain rich customers. Thus your assignment, Jack, and the probable mole inside Proteo. All neatly confirmed by Tarija when she was recruiting Judy here." She slackened her grip on him, and he helped her to sit back beside him.
"Then Alder's fossils and the Fairfield find gave them the opportunity to push that scheme to discredit Growley, and preds in general, ahead with more damning, even live, evidence. Once the conspiracy got wind we might be on to them, they realized these secondary plans were still moving too slowly. So they put more reliance onto their primary plot, their delayed action nighthowler research, and the isolation and confinement complex at Junction City!"
"And they know you were there, on the ground," Jack said deliberately. "You're certain they can't place you anywhere near that complex?" The hare continued after his nod. "And we never told Skye about it since she was already under risk of exposure. Thankfully, they never realized she was the one that uncovered them out at Deer Trail—thus they weren't prepared for us."
"Right," Nick said. "But since she, and we, were there, they have to know that all of us are now aware of that part of their effort. That's why they're twisting it into a pred implemented revenge plot—to preempt and drown out whatever evidence we might present. Don't think they anticipated you releasing those Verda photos as soon, and in the way you did. They also can't say much about our actual raid and rescued victims, without putting the lie to their cover story about what happened.
"Based on what I think they know, that leaves me as the only possible link between our resistance, and their long-term, hideously expensive effort to drug and quarantine predators." He tapped his head. "They need what's in here to decide how potentially exposed their conspiracy's become! So Jack, I'm fairly safe for now. They couldn't get anything useful out of those sheep I fought—they only saw me by the station. They don't know about your reconnaissance flight. Their paranoia demands that me, or anybody I might have talked to, be taken alive for interrogation like Skye, not murdered outright!"
"That's what would have happened if you hadn't rescued me the same day I was captured," Judy said in a strained voice. "They hadn't the time to make those connections, and they still might have killed me afterwards. But what about Kristen? She was on the train with you there, and someone in the conspiracy must have figured that out by now. We just sent her back to Zootopia alone the night of our rescue!"
"In retrospect; another mistake on my part," Jack said in resignation before his face turned to absolute horror. "Oh shit Nick, they do know about our reconnaissance flight! Judy...last night...you weren't immediately questioned since the Kinsley's didn't suspect that linkage! They hadn't been told yet, or didn't need to know! But those with the power to keep Fabienne off the air knew that already—they have the aerial surveillance video she took to the studio! They wouldn't have just muzzled her—they were already in full cover-up mode! There's your direct connections between our resistance, Junction City, and the Growley's. And since we're the outstanding source for any unsecured evidence they still fear being released—their best move is to eliminate not just you Nick, but all of us as soon as possible!"
He's right. We would be disposed of, and lower level fall guys designated, in order to protect the powers behind the plot. Worse, those leaders of the conspiracy might think that they could still salvage their whole effort if they responded to this latest set-back swiftly and ruthlessly. As they've already done with some of their own!
Nick dragged a paw down his muzzle and left his eyes closed in its wake. For every crisis averted, another loomed. Successes and failures were slung back and forth between weary combatants. Stupidity was overlooked as often as cleverness backfired. Would both sides, our good and their evil, struggle on until random chance finally called the match?
"Spirits know we've tried, but our response to uncovering this conspiracy hasn't been very coordinated." Judy and Jack looked at him in likely silent agreement. "We've blundered from crisis to crisis solo, or in pairs, mostly reacting to them instead of anticipating and working things to our advantage. The only things that have kept us in this fight are blind luck and several co-opted civilians pulling far more weight than they should have! You're unfortunately right Jack, our lives are back on the line. So we'd better take whatever time we have here to find our best course of action."
"Best course," Jack said thoughtfully, "that would be to leave it up to our vixens from now on, based on their past performance—but they aren't here, so we'll have to come up with something on our own."
"Don't know about you and yours, but I sure haven't met the standards mine set—and she's my mom!"
"Skye's the stronger one of us...and I know I've disappointed more than once here...not thought clearly...and both of us are well short of one hundred percent fit right now." Jack's face now took on the mantle of weary resignation he'd struggled to throw off his.
"Guys, guys," Judy said, standing up beside him on the bed and waving paws. "Remember, no operation goes exactly as briefed—and we didn't even get one for this. Still, I'd rather be us right now than them—we've pulled off three low probability rescues in a row, and right now they're having to react to our successes with the last two—so let's keep our initiative and break this!"
"You're right Judy," Jack said, perking up a bit. "Skye would appreciate that thought; we both enjoy chess to keep ourselves sharp, and she likes to say about tactics; 'the threat is more powerful than the action'. My favorite cliché about the game is; 'the loser is the one that makes the last mistake'. Verda's got them temporarily wrong-footed, but we still need to be perfect from here on out to exploit that."
"So instead of thinking about only our tactics, maybe we should switch viewpoints and consider what threats they think we hold over them, then do the one they should fear the most," Judy said, keeping with Jack's theme. "I think the number one worry for them is that there might be copies of the Junction City video and stills they confiscated from Fabienne, that could still get out to the media."
"Yes," Jack said, "time to drop the big one. "They've got their explanation for Verda out—that would take us too much time to challenge—and would force us out of hiding in order to be publicly seen as credible. Those rescued in the hospital are contained for now. Skye hasn't texted today, and officer Fangmeyer hasn't checked in since you arrived. So it's up to us to get those images out there ASAP."
"Do we have any of those in your evidence pack, Jack?" he asked carefully. "Didn't we swap out the camera chips so Mrs. Growley could copy them? Whose got those? Cause I don't think we do."
"Dammit Wilde! Do you enjoy finding showstopper problems!" Jack looked like he would've thrown something at him if not for the hare's bad shoulder. He then deflated a bit. "I think you're right; we've concentrated exclusively on protecting and trying to release the Deer Trail evidence ever since our raid. Any of those photo recon copies must still be back at Pinnacles. You contact Vivian, I'll text Growley and hope the missus sent a set back to him before she was...censored. Oh...and Wilde, if your mom can find, have her try and send a few good context images to my smartphone so I can forward them!"
"I'll try Nadine," Judy offered.
"Use our codes," Jack said, moving over so they could share his card. "we don't know her situation, and we're back together and vulnerable. Let them call us for voice if necessary. And watch out for any key words that might tip off Omnivore."
Always nice to have your fears validated, Nick thought as he slowly punched out his message to mom—who might still be busy with the CNN video from Deer Trail she'd found.
"Judy?" Jack Savage said warily after they sent their messages. "You said you texted your family early this morning to let them know you'd been rescued. When Nick texted me. Did you tell them anything beyond that?" His tone of voice demanded their full attention.
"Where I'd been taken and that we hid out overnight, I think," she said curiously. "Why?"
"Because the rest of us were concentrating on getting you back, among other things, and haven't contacted them since well before the Deer Trail rescue," Jack said. "Wait, Vivian might have...no, maybe just that we were aware of your capture and were taking steps. Do they even know we succeeded?"
"Carrot mottle!" Judy snapped, suddenly working her phone. "They will!"
"You do who we rescued and where they are," Jack said with a paw on her arm. "I'll tell them to get it out to local media and the grapevine. I doubt our opposition even considers that a threat, or could do anything about it anyway!"
Nick continued to watch the six-o-clock news while they bent over their phone screens. It was mostly local Concordia stories—the only additional conspiracy related item was another 'wanted by law enforcement' spot with his own dour picture. In lieu of anyone else to deflect blame onto, his now seemed to be in regular rotation on TV. Pity they'd missed the evening broadcast—it would have been good to have some Junction City images in paw to release in time...
"Jack!" he cried while poking the hare, "it's still an hour earlier in Zootopia! We've got thirty-five minutes to get something to ZNN before their evening broadcast—they'll stick in a breaking story like this, won't they? I mean, it isn't Deer Trail related...and if they don't mention Junction City right away they might get it out before being cut off again."
"I'll call Growley direct, he hasn't replied yet," Jack said eagerly, "You get your mom and see if she knows if Growley got any of those pics, or found some herself. He's got the pull to get those on the air somehow. Call in the clear now to get through—and damn Omnivore—we're in a sprint to the finish!"
"Call Eric first Jack; he might be easier to get and would know," he suggested, "he'd be the one to send or take those back anyway. I've got his number if you don't."
"I've got it; good idea." The hare agent looked hopeful as he poked at his phone, then moved away from them to shield his call as Nick's signaled a received text.
'Ms. Vivian is busy in the auditorium Officer Wilde, can I be of assistance? Rina.'
That familiarity with both of them seemed promising, given that his initial text had been coded, so he called back. It was answered immediately and apologetically by a voice he'd heard once before.
"Don't explain, Rina! Just tell me who you are and what she's doing." Using a client's phone must have violated some rule for Pinnacles employees.
"Sorry, it's the training. You met me as Jasmine at reception. I was called by Ms. Vivian last night to come assist with her move; she's fully briefed me on your conspiracy, and is now showing Alan Curry's video to at least thirty-five guests! Word's spread, we had six at the first showing," the vixen said excitedly. "When our head videographer saw what we'd brought—video's about eighteen minutes long—he put a notice in the Pinnacles Piquant, that's our daily activity e-bulletin. Requests to view it were immediate, but we're showing it here so Ms. Vivian can answer questions!"
"Rina, Rina, good. Does my mom have any photos of the Junction City project to show them?"
"Just what's in her camera. We thought the video would have a lot more impact given the recent news."
"OK, great! Show those to anyone who asks if you have more than just the video...otherwise, keep doing what you're doing and give out copies if you can. Now Rina, do you know if Eric Broadpaw—Mr. Growley's pilot—has copies of these, and where he might be?"
"I don't know anything about a Mr. Broadpaw, I've been with your mom...sorry! Ms. Vivian!...since we relocated her."
"Relax some Rina! We're not as overbearing as your usual guests there. One last thing before I've got to go. What kinds are coming by to watch, and have you seen any of their reactions?"
"It's a mix Officer Wilde. They're aware that something's wrong with the news. One, before our first showing, demanded we not play it and immediately give it to him. He was shouted down by the others and left—please don't ask, I can't reveal any names, descriptions, or occupations of our Patrons! The second group was really intent—up til I had to leave to answer your text."
He thanked the young vixen and turned back to see a grinning Jack Savage.
"We've won!" the agent said as soon as their eyes met. "Eric flew back this morning; Growley's got copies of everything from Junction City and our stills from Deer Trail. He went to the ZNN studio hours ago to advise and help edit down a story for broadcast in...about twelve minutes. Eric's going to let him know that we have a copy of Alan's video that will prove the cover-up!
"Mom's been showing that video to dozens of guests at Pinnacles—a Rina there reports lots of interest. One of them tried to confiscate it first, so the conspiracy has to know by now she's doing that."
"I hope they tried that in front of others, Jack said, "that would reveal the cover-up like nothing else!"
"Rina says they did just that, but the others insisted on seeing it—she couldn't disclose any personal info about who they were unfortunately."
"I'm certain those others can and will! And don't worry about your mom, she's secure and will have plenty of VIP protection available after this revelation! All those Patron's connections means the Deer Trail fabrication's gonna blow up right along with Verda's excuse. Growley of course, will showcase his mate's video to call attention to her absence and hopefully force her release—that'll reveal the whole plot to purge predators, ties into last year's cost overrun scandal—it exposes everything!" Jack was positively giddy. "By tomorrow morning, if Growley's broadcast airs in...seven minutes, the principle conspirators are going to be ducking and running, or trying to transfer blame..."
"Or looking for revenge," Judy said flatly. "We've been clear calling and texting all your key words for the last half-hour. How long will it take for them to send a team after us?"
6:58 PM Wednesday, May 3rd with Skye in Aurora All Mammals Medical Center's isolation ward.
Still no signs of activity. Nobody had come into their room since the mid afternoon altercation that had herded the medical staff out of the area, and removed the camera up in the corner. Confiscation of their electronic witness had been initially concerning, but now allowed her some freedom of movement while the room remained empty. Skye turned her head slightly to look through narrowed eyes at the unplugged video cable that hung from the ceiling, and confirm that Madge below was still alive and unconscious according to her monitor display.
Something had happened that had forced their guards to finally isolate them from all outside contact. Someone must have been afraid they might talk about what had happened out at Deer Trail. Those realizations had kept her still, with eyes closed, during the commotion. Thinking that she hadn't been able to divulge anything yet was a plausible reason they might want to let her live—for now.
Her subterfuge had been noticed by Dr. Seeomakaskay—who had surreptitiously removed Skye's telltale cellphone, then argued in vain that her patients were in serious unresponsive condition, and needed constant care. Knowing that the other three rescued from the old prison were likely still sedated and not a threat to disclose, Skye had also hoped to draw agency suspicion away from the medical staff.
Thankfully the room had been emptied before the gut churning realization hit—that her snap decision could have easily gone the other way. Convinced they hadn't talked, her corrupted fellow agents might have decided to eliminate them before they could. They might have actually just done that, by letting nature take its course—her IV had run out over an hour ago. The doctors had said that occasional interruptions wouldn't affect the course of treatment, but this promised to be a long one. With little else to do, she'd kept track of that; she was forty hours in so far, less than half of the required duration.
Skye's ears involuntarily perked at the sound of raised, but still unintelligible voices outside of the ward. They became more distinct as the doors opened, and she was able to catch the end of a comment: '...vernment doctor with the proper clearances will assume all responsibility for these patients.' She shifted slightly for comfort, then relaxed into her apparently comatose state. Before she closed them, her slitted eyes saw one of the agency attired pronghorns enter her room while holstering a gun.
They had to have encountered significant medical staff push back out there in the hall to require that level of overt persuasion to force their way back in here again. She heard the squeaks of the room's roll-around stool being moved, then its hiss of protest as it was burdened with a larger than intended load. Next, her bed creaked and tipped a bit as another presumably sat on the diagonally opposite corner. A brief, careful peek revealed the second pronghorn's backside. Certainly understandable, infectious disease wards weren't set up for visitors, and her bed was oversize—typical for hospitals, as too small was more problematic for any size.
"Finally, we can talk without cellphones in our faces," muttered the one beyond her bed. "And they weren't exaggerating about these two being out of it. We're good. Those fuckers are gonna regret making us stand out there all day. Hallway isn't wide enough to allow seats for your size. It'll block emergency traffic. Security recording in progress. Just more pred arrogance." There was a patting sound. "This superseded their rules quite nicely!"
"They've still done a pretty good job of hobbling us so far," said the closer one, "These two know far too much, but we can't secure them as long as they're being monitored this closely and publicly. I already fear they're more than just 'interesting cases'. These docs have to know more than they're letting on."
"At least losing the test lab won't set us back for long—they already got us what we wanted. And so far, these two are keeping immediate interest off of Lionheart. We should be able to move him soon enough. Don't worry about these doc's, of course they know these patients have been exposed, once ours is in, he'll keep them...calmed, they can always suffer a flashback later!"
"Sooner might work too since she seems to have run dry." Skye felt the bed shift, then a tap on her arm near her IV line. "Scrawny little thing to have such a reputation." Stronger movement indicated that he'd then stood up.
"Better go see how Hisonner's doing; his court date's in a couple of weeks."
7:30 PM May 3rd with Judy in the Bellevue motel.
"Yes Marcie, I know...thanks. Wait! Tell everyone to stop calling me! I need this line free!" Judy pressed the end call button and the phone immediately chimed again. "I got it! Becca? No, no, stop! Tell them to stop calling! Yes you too...everybody! We're busy here. I'm gonna miss something important if you all keep tying up my phone!"
"No use Carrots," Nick told her, "just turn it off."
She held the button down—the abused phone managed another call chime, and a text notification before powering off. Across the room, Jack's was just as busy. "We know. Stop the others from calling us!" he said curtly for the fourth time in a row. He looked briefly at a received text as the 'Operative' theme started yet again, and powered his down too.
"Well...we asked for it with our texting," he said ruefully. "Judy, how long will they keep this up?"
"Longer than it takes to fill these memories," she held up her phone, "and take down the cell network on our side of the Burrows. Though with all this, I'm surprised it's still up."
Nick's phone decided to join in on the fun. He answered, listened briefly, then smiled. "Fangmeyer."
She and Jack moved closer and tried to listen with him.
"That's great it worked out Fangs, when do you think they can get it?...you have it now?...Okay, then we need to not be here ASAP! As in we'll be a block or three closer to where you'll be coming from. Be careful, we just blew up a hornet's nest...yes...yes!...how long? Good." Nick ended the call and looked at Jack. "We owe your doctor friend one, she's in Conifer. Medium gray PathBreaker, black trim, ETA fortyish. You two leapfrog north along the boulevard; I'll follow in five."
They were ready in a minute—Jack adding a tinge of peril to their haste by removing his phone battery. She followed suit, and slipped out the door. The sun was down, but the sky was still fairly bright. Oh well, waiting might not have helped anyway—this seemed to be a part of the city where you wouldn't find many diurnals out after dark.
Luckily, someone seemed to be in the office dealing with the manager. Judy stayed out of sight behind parked cars as much as possible and made it out to the boulevard unobserved. There wasn't much cover in the direction they needed to go, so she walked rapidly like she wanted to get somewhere before it did get dark. Traffic was light, but one car did slow as it passed her—she found that rather unnerving. She'd passed the empty lot and loan-shark place, and almost made the end of the long block before she found a sheltered spot behind an untended concrete strip planter.
Time crawled as she waited for Jack—or Nick for that matter. She really felt like they'd openly invited malign attention with all of their calls, and wanted to be far away from here. They'd certainly helped deliver a fatal blow to the conspiracy, but could still be caught in its death throes if they lingered.
She finally spotted Savage slowly limping up the street; an involuntary helpless victim. She whispered "clear" as he passed, and watched him cross the intersection and eventually find his own spot to rest. They alternated once more, and she finally glimpsed Nick a block behind them as Jack caught up to her.
"Good spot Judy, we'll wait for him here. It's probably been a half-hour," he said with pain in his voice. He held his sprained foot clear of the ground, so she put an arm around to steady him. It wasn't long before she felt him stiffen, and nudge her further towards concealment. A somewhat larger than average car cruised past in the deep, now street-lighted, dusk.
"Agency. I've seen those same two little whip antennas on several of ours. Can you see where Wilde went?"
"Not right now." She then heard the low but growing buzz of a knobby-tired vehicle coming the same way down the boulevard. Jack had too, he was peering intently up the street.
"This might be it; get ready to get out there. Yeah, got to be, go!"
She stepped out far enough to be illuminated by the lower, wide-beam pair of headlights—behind them a huge, somewhat military looking utility vehicle immediately slowed, then stopped. A stretching Nadine shoved open a passenger's door that almost seemed designed for a tier two bank vault. The tiger officer must have seen her go back to help Jack hobble over, as she got out and came around to hoist them both into the seat. Once standing on it, she could barely see out over the hood.
They proceeded ahead slowly until Nick appeared; he was able to pass up his pack, then climb aboard with only a few grunts of effort. Nadine had to stretch over the three of them to get their door fully latched.
"An agency car was no more than a minute ahead of you," Jack said, "Could you somehow manage to go back the other way...quickly and inconspicuously?" He looked around the cavernous interior.
Nadine used the next side street for a not particularly legal two-point turn—traffic was light and size did have its advantages. No one spoke for a couple of blocks, all checking for signs of being followed.
"Savage. Next time we raid a secure facility, I want one of these before we go in!" Nadine finally groused. "Insurance included—this is worth almost twice my annual salary!"
Conifer turned out to be a well kept, obviously gentrified small town—for mammals ten to twenty times her size. It was more upscale neighborhood than sprawling estates—she'd had quite enough of one of those recently. Nadine helped them disembark in front of one still very large residence, and said she'd walk back after returning the vehicle. Ten minutes sufficed for that, Nadine then produced a key and let them into the house.
The Cougar family inside seemed to be just up and preparing for their...night, rather than relaxing after a day's efforts. The largest turned in tense surprise—his expression then changed to one of recognition.
"Fangmeyer. And you must be Officer Hopps. Agent Savage; you have not kept off of that ankle!"
"Granted Doctor Denton," Jack said as a brief introduction. "But it does a good job of reminding me that I'm still alive. Have any of you caught tonight's most recent news?" The felines all said 'no'.
"Staff lets me know if anything interesting comes on at eleven; otherwise I usually catch the morning news after my shift," the cougar physician added. "I'll assume from your demeanor's that it's good?"
"Our evidence was the top story on ZNN's six-o-clock news out of Zootopia," Jack said before she or Nick could contribute. "Took up almost half of their broadcast—unfortunately too late breaking to have made yours!" He looked more directly at Dr. Denton. "They led off with Fabienne's aerial video and report about a concentration camp for predators being built in a remote area near Junction City! That was followed by photos of your patients being rescued, their captors, us, the chopper," he took a breath, "even one of Alan Curry and his camera that'll prove agency suppression of his on-site footage!"
Dr. Denton's face said that he was a mammal that concentrated on his professional duties far more than on events beyond those. "What does this mean for the safety of my patients Savage? There are now armed guards outside their ward."
"I don't know doctor, news is just getting out; they may not have heard yet. I'd worry about any standing orders they might have been given if it appears they or their higher-ups have been exposed!"
"I'm going with you doctor," Nadine said, "Protect and serve is better than sitting on my ass here!"
"Appreciated officer. So we'd better get there now. Dakota!" he said to their apparent nine or ten year old, "You know the drill, get to Ivy and Jodi's house before they leave for school."
9:35 PM with Skye in Aurora All Mammals Medical Center's isolation ward.
I'm not in Deer Trail. They know I'm here. I'm not in Deer Trail. I'd rather be here a thousandfold than on that table. Great Spirit, I'll donate to a fund for paralyzed mammals if you show me mercy! I'm not in Deer Tr...
Those thoughts didn't mask her discomfort any better than her earlier curiosity about the agents particular interest in Lionheart had. One of those nemesis' was presently camped out on the stool by the ends of their beds—Madge was blessed with unconsciousness, her own muscles screamed for any movement, a small adjustment, a way to get at that damnable itch that had started...forty minutes ago.
She'd decided that continued stillness was her safest course—rejecting another feigned slow return to consciousness that might trigger something worse from her minders. Hearing was Skye's best informant now, but keeping her ears still proved harder to do than for the rest of her body.
The close by pronghorn shifted, a key clicked and he checked in again with whatever compatriots were now posted outside. She cracked an eyelid to make sure he was turned away, then took the opportunity of his brief distraction to isometrically tense a few muscles against each other and work in a slight relieving shift of her own before he finished.
An almost imperceptible thump from outside the room overcame her will and moved an ear. It was different than a footfall or…
A door banged open down the hallway in front of her room; there was the distinctive 'phut' of a compressed gas gun—Skye opened her eyes to see the pronghorn before her starting to draw from a seated position. She forced herself to lean upwards with a scream of pain, and whipped her only weapon—the nurses call button on its cord—at his gun hoof. It came up short, grazing his wrist instead of wrapping around it like she's hoped, but along with her scream was enough interference to allow a large tigress time to rush in, roar, and lay out the agency antelope with a vicious open pawed blow to the head.
Skye groaned and flopped back down on the bed, hoping her bandages had limited any further damage to her ribs. The tigress rose up, having secured the gun after delivering another powerful punch—she was a plain-clothed officer Fangmeyer. She rapidly turned away until verbal 'all clears' were exchanged, then was followed back in by Dr. Denton, a lady cougar, and several other assistants and nurses. They were immediately checked over, had their IV's swapped out, and she got a badly needed trip to the restroom.
Both pronghorn agents were gone when she was helped back—her self-induced stiffness reducing her mobility as much as her ribs had. There was some smeared blood on the floor; claws having been employed. Assured that everyone else was alright, Dr. Denton then surprised her by stepping up and asking nervously if he could escort her for dinner and a movie. It was sufficiently absurd, with him still holding the dart gun, several of the hospital staff standing around, and officer Fangmeyer trying not to ruin the moment—that she gave her assent with as much of a smile as she could muster.
Of course dinner arrived on a plastic roll-over tray, and the later feature would be an MRI to check out the state of her ribs. Dr. Denton then admitted that he'd indulged a long-held fantasy of dating a celebrity hottie like her. He then introduced his unperturbed mate, a pathology lab manager, and with the tension deliberately and unexpectedly broken, everybody was able to relax as explanations flowed.
Someone finally found where Dr. Seeomakaskay had taken her cellphone, and with assurances that the conspiracy and its lies were now thoroughly exposed, and that her compatriots remained secure, Skye felt justified with calling Jack in the clear. After confirming her own safety, she let him excitedly detail at length what officer Fangmeyer and Dr. Denton had already told her. Until he got around to mentioning Judy and Nick.
"Wait. Wait! So nobody thought earlier to tell me that Judy was back with you? So he did find her? How is she? Good...but how's she taking it? Emotionally...They didn't! Where? Is she hitting you Jack?"
Skye dropped her gaze from the ceiling to find several others taking interest in her conversation, with officer Fangmeyer looking particularly attentive. Two were still recording with their phones, having likely documented their recapture of the ward. Oh well. It seemed that any further efforts to conceal either of their clandestine relationships from professional associates and colleagues would be futile. She just hoped that there would be enough respect for their privacy to forestall wider public exposure.
"Skye? You still there? This isn't over, the news just broke and the agency tried to intercept us an hour and a half ago! What's happened with your guards?"
"Three sedated agent Savage," Skye said, trying to salvage a little professionalism, "and one clawed up and being treated. Officer Fangmeyer shot one in the hall outside right after he'd status checked the two in with me, then caught his partner coming back from a bathroom break. They all charged in here immediately after; Dr. Denton shot the one outside my room, and Fangmeyer physically took down the one inside!"
"Fangmeyer organized an armed assault using hospital staff? How? Did they use syringes?" Jack said loudly enough for some of her audience to hear. Skye held the phone up for a smiling Dr. Denton.
"Denton here agent Savage. We treat all sizes and conditions here, so we have a psych ward. I am one of several larger members of the medical staff that is certificated to use our tranquilizer gun. Having that here is, of course, not generally public knowledge."
Skye withdrew her phone. "Uh, Savage? I tried to appear unconscious while any of them were in here with me—it worked well enough that I heard something interesting about Lionheart. They said he has a court date in about two weeks, and that they'd take him from here as soon as possible. That might explain why we transferred Bellwether back here; probably to testify in order to discredit him...and… Oh shit Jack! One of the agents said...the loss of their lab wouldn't set them back; they had what they needed!"
"And Lionheart was there...after dropping out of sight, instead of being transferred openly to PRP..." Jack's voice pondered before her arm and phone were tugged away by a couple of large gray-furred fingers. She held it up again for the doctor.
"Sub-clinical testing of the enzyme enabled Holicithias derivative," said Dr. Denton. "Patient privacy aside, you need to know that we found trace amounts of two related versions of the drug, and their metabolites in Mr. Lionheart's system. Also, he was sedated before we got him."
We should have realized what they'd planned for him as soon as we'd found him out at Deer Trail! This could be the prototype operation for future political assassinations!
Again, their adversaries had back-up plans. Plan 'A' had probably been to discredit a prominent pred through Bellwether's testimony, and try to shift some of the blame for the savage predator crisis onto him. Plan 'B'? Dose the lion with the unstable drug, then plant the enzyme somewhere in the courtroom, or even on Bellwether if they could contrive to get them close together. Infamous savage pred eliminates helpless conspiratorial failure in shocking, very public attack. They'd could still try it, thinking it might partially justify the collapsing conspiracy's designs on society.
Skye brought her arm down with a grimace, as that side had the objecting ribs—the other was where the hospital had chosen to place her IV. "Savage? I don't know how long it will be before the agency realizes my guards haven't reported in. Or tries to contact them. What do you think we should do? I think we should get word out about what happened here as soon as possible."
"Agreed. This is all going to explode tomorrow morning, and we need to be ahead of it! Maybe go with heroic doctors defend helpless patients against rogue FBI assassins. You said they were armed—play that up! As for us, we need to come out of hiding, and this seems to be the time. So if you can get media coverage out there, we could join you and do it together in a safer environment."
"That shouldn't be a problem. Several of the staff that followed the larger mammals in here were taking video of the assault—they'll be uploading that if they haven't done it already...wait a minute."
Nadine was holding her phone out so Skye could read a text. The tiger officer was actually quivering with excitement...or relief. Her large phone screen helped to mitigate that.
"Jack! Text from ZPD legal to officer Fangmeyer. Chief Bogo now knows everything he needs to! We've got our cover."
7:15 AM Monday, May 15th, with Nick Wilde in cell #318, Concordia Central Jail.
Well...today's the day. Time to face the music, get raked over the coals, and try to play his cards right—maybe even pull a rabbit out of… Well, he'd already done that, and she would be here for his preliminary inquiry, where they'd try to justify his prior actions before it all went to trial. Unfortunately, his initial arraignment a little over a week ago had set a rather high bar. He'd plead not guilty to a count of second degree murder, three of assault with a deadly weapon, one of illegal manufacture of a deadly weapon, one of evading arrest, two each of use of excessive force, and failure to announce and attempt an arrest.
There were a few more charges, like engaging in misdemeanor out-of-jurisdiction enforcement activities; their use at trial would depend on how Chief Bogo's own hearing would go. So far, opening legal maneuvers had gone their way—Chief Tarija was keeping a low profile, and had been unable or unwilling to produce Alex Clifton as a witness to justify her prior arrest of the ZPD chief.
If not for almost daily visits with his legal team, he'd probably have lost it not knowing how events were playing out since he'd surrendered. That media scrum had taken place in the hospital's main lobby, aided by the presence of two ex-FBI managers forced out of their jobs by the conspiracy. That had been enabled thanks to Skye's excellent recall of names—those government personnel records were restricted, and now many other types of documentary evidence normally available had gone missing or been denied for all requests. Nick wondered if city power consumption had measurably gone up due to rampant use of shredders, and computer overwriting.
That rearguard action by the conspiracy had been mostly ineffective. Not only had those senior FBI officers ignored the secrets act and come forward, many in the media pressured into accepting similar restrictions or who'd been held to ensure their silence had also done so. That had resulted in the spectacle of rival broadcast personality's conducting interviews on each other's networks.
Alan Curry's full video was out, and had been sufficiently damning that Judy, Jack, and Nadine had not yet been charged—even for the out-of-jurisdiction stuff. Mom's set of hastily applied charges—no doubt brought to reinforce his own—had rapidly become a hoof-tangled faceplant for the government prosecutors. A lot of their own in the Justice Department were too busy being invisible to want to testify to letter-of-the-law violations by members of the resistance, and mom seemingly had her choice of being seen as an action heroine, or a sympathetic target of retribution for protecting family and friends.
So he, Nicholas Wilde, remained the only available fall guy to pile blame onto. And they had plenty to work with given the foundation of his past life and more recent manufactured accusations. What additional accusations might be brought today would show if they'd decided to go forward with another version of the predatory revenge plot, or simply bury him in individual charges. He'd blunt trauma'd two sheep that had likely been disposed of later by the conspiracy, and used a flamethrower on another. It would take some fancy legal dancing to overcome that.
At least he had a diverse and talented team for his defense. The general counsel for the ZPD, a blackbuck hailing originally from the other side of the world, prevented this from being a strictly pred vs. prey courtroom fight. Mr. Mehra had a good reputation within the pred-heavy ZPD, and would be Nick's lead defender. Then there was a corporate lawyer provided free-of-charge by Mr. Growley—an ocelot supposedly good at prying open loopholes in the law. Finally, his hometown attorney Wes Murry, who had considerable experience weaving something out of nearly nothing for his often throw-away clients, had been approved to represent him here. At least his fellow fox would get a career boost from this high profile case.
The door at the end of his hall clunked and rumbled back, and his gaggle of escorts approached. His initial treatment here could presage how the rest of today's inquiry would go—open to evidence and facts, or closed and preordained. The biggest court fights to come according to the lawyers, would be over their prior handling of the evidence, and thereby its admissibility—particularly those parts that showed culpability of senior officials. Unfortunately, the most solid and indefensible charge brought against them would be examined today—his for murder.
Nick put his paws through the meal tray slot, and was cuffed. Let out of his upper-row cell, he got a capacitave collar and leash with its controller handle, and was walked to the ramp at the end and down to this level's main floor by his donkey jailer. No leg irons, no muzzle, no warning shock, no significant rough treatment—it seemed retribution wasn't high on the list today. Down at street level, instead of going across to the adjacent courthouse, he was placed in the back of a cruiser and driven a couple of blocks to another.
The reason for that became clear once he was passed off to the bailiff, taken up to, and brought in from the back of a large and nearly full courtroom. Only the jury box and bench remained empty. Three news mammals were in a back corner along with a single broadcast camera. Except for Mr. Mehra by his side, and his other two lawyers seated at the defendant's table, Nick didn't recognize anyone else there. His supporters would be waiting in the public hall outside the front double doors, subject to being called to appear. He was seated, and his cuffs clipped to the chain hanging from a lug at the edge of the table. That was standard procedure for those accused of a violent crime, as was his jailhouse attire.
Most stood as the judge was announced a few minutes later—his chain just long enough to allow him to do so. The few very large mammals present were permitted to simply bow their heads to avoid possibly awkward physical interactions with others nearby. His Honor, Judge Ridgeway, was a large Dall sheep with an impressive set of thick horns. He settled into a broad chair behind the bench where he dominated the chamber. The impassive mien of everyone else in the room did nothing to assuage Nick's feeling that Justice Department back room machinations had already tipped the scales away from him.
The judge called them into session and took care of a few administrative issues—this hearing would be conducted under jury trial rules. There were declarations of who represented who since there was no jury to introduce them to. Then recording guidelines were imposed for the news mammals, and a final re-reading of the charges against one Nicholas P. Wilde. No mention of his being an officer. His Honor then turned it over to the government prosecutors.
They, two deer, an alpaca, and a goat, first introduced a motion to strike two of the assault charges, one for the use of excessive force, and both for the failure to announce and attempt an arrest. A couple of notes were taken by both sides, and the judge announced they'd been dropped—as they'd all expected. The embedded conspiracy's hasty and now unsupportable public explanations about the Deer Trail rescue, along with their prosecution team's likely inability to produce or even identify some of his purported victims, had hamstrung much of their case against him. That didn't matter, the murder conviction was the one they wanted. And it alone would get him twenty years plus.
"Does the defense wish to offer any motions before opening statements?" said Judge Ridgeway.
Mr. Mehra stood, "Yes your honor, we move to strike counts eight, eleven, and twelve based on this transcript of ZPD Chief Adrian Bogo's Zootopia Superior Court hearing on May the eleventh—which we can now introduce into evidence." He was directed to approach the bench and gave the judge a folder. "This certified copy will show, as supported by the prosecution's motion to strike counts nine and ten, that Officers Hopps, Wilde, and Fangmeyer were acting under the direction of their immediate chain of command to search for, and if possible rescue, the persons being illegally held at the Deer Trail Prison."
After a short perusal, the judge dropped the last two counts, but denied the motion for count eight—saying that the legality of the FBI's arrest warrant for the fox officer had yet to be determined. Somewhat relieved that more than half of the charges against him had been disposed of in as many minutes, Nick felt that it might be more important that he'd regained his status as an officer in the eyes of the court.
"Per the court's decision on count eight, the Justice Department would move for severance of Mr. Wilde's and the other officer's actions at Deer Trail, where an accurate timeline of events has yet to be established, from Mr. Wilde's unambiguous individual actions at the Kinsley estate that resulted in the death of Trace Kinsley."
That motion was granted, which meant first, that the conspiracy hadn't completely given up the fight over what had happened out at Deer Trail—and that they needed even more time to prepare. Two weeks, and they had yet to come up with a plausible explanation for the media to salvage any of their agenda. It also meant, as he'd been warned by his legal team, that his own defense could only consider his actions at the Kinsley estate, and that he now couldn't use prior events or intent to justify them.
The goat, not the Alpaca, stood for the opening statement. He'd been told to expect either of those two as it was considered poor form to have the lead prosecutor be the same species as the victim.
"Thank you your honor. The facts of this case are incontrovertible. They will show that the defendant, Nicholas P. Wilde," a closed and pointed hoof was waved casually in his direction, "did willfully, and without permission, trespass onto the private estate of the Kinsley family, in violation of penal code five fifty five, effect entrance into a structure therein from a position of concealment, and immediately attack, without prior warning or attempt to control the situa…"
"Objection," said Mr. Mehra. "The prosecution moved to strike counts nine and ten, regarding the duty to announce and att..."
"Sustained," the Judge said calmly. The goat resumed promptly.
"Entered a structure on the grounds and immediately attacked first Trace Kinsley's cousin, disabling him with a taser, then Trace Kinsley himself, killing him with two precisely placed blows to the head, as witnessed by his cousin. There was no attempt to disable or restrain Trace Kinsley; the defendant intended to kill, as the forensic evidence will show! This is a simple case of unjustified murder, as the purported presence of Officer Judy Hopps has yet to be definitively established by the defense, and even if it was, it cannot be used to justify the killing of a civilian that police officers are sworn to protect!"
A hastily scribbled note was pushed in front of him by the Ocelot attorney. 'Remember, they weren't confident to charge murder one.' Mr. Mehra leaned over and whispered; "They can't show prior knowledge on your part about who would've been there unless they'll go with the kidnapping plot which they haven't mentioned yet."
That was the original expected issue with his case—his defense had to show that Judy was being held at the estate, and how he knew about it; the prosecution would have to cast enough doubt on her whereabouts to reinforce their earlier claims about Verda being kidnapped by him. They had little choice but to lie to protect Verda and her powerful family, and make their publicly released timeline about her abduction and rescue work. That would also force them to discredit all of his and Judy's coming testimony, along with Kristen's as she was his alibi on the date in question.
That would expose the prosecution's major vulnerability according to his lawyers. If he'd kidnapped Verda as claimed two full days before his actual rescue of Judy, that meant a two day delay in seeking medical help for Trace would have to be explained, or emergency services and hospital records would have to be falsified. Already, pre-trial discovery had failed to uncover not only those records, but those of crime scene investigations that, even if done at all, should have shown Judy's presence at the scene.
Hence the damaging severance motion; if narrowly applied many of the prosecution's problems went away. Suppression of evidence would further restrict the scope of his trial and protect mammals within the government. Powerful forces needed a simple conviction, and it seemed this judge was going to give it to them. Mr. Mehra was already being steered during his opening statement to address only evidence whether Nick had been there or not, and if he'd attacked and killed Kinsley. Several of his why and when questions had already been deemed irrelevant to the crime.
He sat there, chained to the table, his stomach gone sour, as his defenses were being stripped away layer by layer. It was being done calmly, soberly, dispassionately, as if it was just another ordinary day at work for everyone in the room except for him. Objections sustained or denied, witnesses dismissed as not germane, statutes cited, all the proforma procedures necessary to throw the fox in a hole so we can all go home at five.
And if this hearing, then show trial, were concluded as quickly as the compromised government needed, he might never touch his mate again—a tempered sheet of glass and a speakerphone between them would be the best they could hope for. Nick turned to look at the courtroom doors; she was outside of them, and if called it might be their last chance…
Mr. Mehra had sat back down beside him; his opening statement finished. One of the prosecutors rose to present their witness list as his dark furred bovid lawyer carefully placed a hoof on his shoulder.
"It's going approximately as we expected," he was told quietly, warm breath in his ear, "Remember, don't let our civility and the courtroom's formality discourage you. The severance motion does mean that Officer Hopps' testimony and veracity will be crucial. Fortunately, she has an excellent record and reputation, along with abundant public trust to back her up. You couldn't have a better witness."
Or mate. Still, the opposition would do everything they could to discredit her on the stand, before a probably stacked jury, and he'd been warned repeatedly not to react to those attempts and interrupt these proceedings. Which had apparently, and visibly, already gotten to him.
"Objection your Honor," Mr. Murry said from his other side, the Kinsley cousin on the stand having just been sworn in and asked a first question by one of the cervid prosecutors. "This is the third time that the prosecution has used the phrase 'on or about May the first' in reference to this alleged crime. Do they not know when it was committed?"
"Counsel is reminded that this is a preliminary inquiry and...outstanding facts will be established before trial. State the particular basis for your objection." The judge's voice revealed that he still had a finger on the scales.
"Your Honor. Their statement could be construed to cover an interval of up to three days. That is too imprecise for a proper defense of our client. Discovery has so far not provided the defense with a police report, medical examiner's report, or any other documentation establishing time of death. Prior case..."
Murry was brusquely waved to silence in a quiet and attentive courtroom. The judge appeared to read the room as the news mammals scribbled in their memo pads.
"Objection sustained. The prosecution shall provide the court and defense with either the relevant documentation, or if not available the best estimate known to them at present."
The attorney that had started to question the deer he'd tased at the estate, walked back to confer with the rest of his team. The judge waited nearly a minute with the rest of them before they broke.
"Your Honor. This murder occurred on the evening of May the second between nine and nine-thirty P.M." the buck said in a clipped, almost bitter tone. His conspecific on the stand squinted and grimaced.
Nick sighed in relief, the prosecution had been forced to commit to the more truthful option open to them. They must have decided that discrediting earlier press reports originating from the now expendable Kinsley family, would be easier than forging official documentation. Again, it had gone nearly as they'd planned. Mr. Murry had waited for the prosecution to use their ambiguous phrase several times to fix it in the record for the court reporter and press, before objecting to it. His fate now rested solely on Judy's testimony, as any physical evidence that could back her up had apparently been sanitized.
Mr. Growley's lawyer was now at his ear. "Strategic decision for the prosecution; Vail Kinsley is already screwed by the reveal of his motivation for the cost overrun scandal. There has to be a deal in place for him to plead to protect others in his family."
"Verda?" Nick whispered back.
"Too many witnesses to her overt acts, and this admission means they can't explain her presence at the prison," the ocelot muttered, "Once additional subpoenas are eventually issued, we'll know which other members of the family they've been allowed to protect. It's all up to your, and Hopps, testimony now."
That was made clear by the careful questioning of, and responses by the witness, as the prosecution laid out the details that would be presented to prove his unprovoked, brutal crime. There was no mention of Judy's presence at all. Mr. Mehra's question about that on cross, elicited a simple 'I never saw her' from the witness. His follow-ups about the witness's location, view, and the lighting conditions were objected to and sustained.
Having a witness on the stand at all was not normal for a preliminary inquiry from everything Nick had been told to expect from the proceedings. Each side was supposed to provide the court with a list of witnesses to be called at the jury trial, and what they would testify to. Press coverage, however limited, wasn't usual either. The prosecution obviously wanted their slant on the case out before the trial to influence public opinion, and help deflect from the criminality of higher government officials. That also explained why, after his nighttime surrender at the hospital, he'd been taken out the back of the police station the next day, then driven around and perp-walked right back in at the front for the media.
That stunt had merely been the beginning. Even with their overwhelming evidence for government malfeasance, a growing number of accusations, denials, conflicting narratives, and outright conspiracy theories fought with it for public attention. Some were the expected concealing sprays of administrative squid ink, others tried to shield particular individuals, or sway a particular species. The only thing that was certain, was that their society would never be the same after the fallout had settled.
At least all the civic upheaval had drawn some attention away from his immediate legal proceedings. Those that might want revenge against participants in their resistance had bigger worries at the moment. What the judge would allow here, and at trial was the most uncertain factor, as Mr. Mehra asked the court to present their own witness.
"The court calls Officer Judith L. Hopps to the witness stand," Judge Ridgeway said in order to preserve some appearance of impartiality. "The media present is again admonished to not record or disclose this witness testimony before trial."
Mr. Mehra stood quickly. "The defense has no objection to their properly embargoed pretrial recording of Officer Hopps testimony as was permitted for the prosecution's witness."
The judge had to remove his hoof tip from the scale and allow the coverage—the bailiff went out front to collect Judy, escorted her trim figure past him to the witness box, where she was sworn in.
His mate had spared him only the briefest glance after he'd turned to watch her with as neutral an expression as possible. Their professionalism would be the counter to the prosecutions sensationalism.
"Officer Hopps," Mr. Mehra asked carefully, "Were you present at the scene of, and during the commission of the crime that Officer Nicholas Wilde is accused of?"
"I was, and witnessed the whole…"
"Officer Hopps. Only answer the questions asked of you," said the judge.
"Yes, your honor, I was." Judy said; keeping the annoyance out of her voice, but not off her face.
"Could you relate to the court how you came to be at that scene?" continued Mr. Mehra.
"I was driving away from Deer Trail prison after our successful rescue operation, and was…"
"Objection!" The Alpaca cut her off. "Our granted severance motion precludes any mention, or interpretation of those events for this proceeding!"
"Sustained," said the judge. "Strike Officer Hopps last statement from the record. Officer, make no further observations about events regarding Deer Trail. With that in mind, you may answer the question."
"I...was driving back to Concordia early in the morning of May first, when I was pursued and forced to stop at a truck stop. Four deer cuffed me, threw me in the back of one of their cars and drove me away. Ten or fifteen minutes later they stopped and I was put in a cage in the trunk of another car. I was taken to the Kinsley's estate, and put in a shed where Officer Wilde found me later that evening."
"I now refer to item number four on our evidence list, an aerial video obtained from channel eleven that was broadcast later that same morning," Mr. Mehra said, "Have you viewed that video Officer Hopps, and does it accurately represent your abduction from the truck stop?"
"Yes it does!"
"At that time, did you know any of the mammals that...apprehended you, and where they'd taken you?"
"No, and no," Judy said.
"Officer Hopps, when did you learn that you had been taken to the Kinsley's estate?" Mr. Mehra asked another careful establishing question.
"After I'd been rescued by Officer Wilde and we had escaped from the rear of the compound."
Officer Hopps, during your time at the Kinsley estate, did you feel threatened, or that your life was in danger?"
"Yes! The entire time! I thought I'd die in that cage! It smelled in there like something already had."
"Objection your Honor," the Alpaca prosecutor said, "this line of questioning is irrelevant to this case. It can be established through eyewitness testimony, physical evidence, and Officer Wilde's own deposition, that he was on the Kinsley's property, and killed Trace Kinsley without any justification. There is no physical evidence for the presence of Officer Hopps on the property. No witnesses other than Officer Wilde claim to have seen her there, and no 'cage' was found."
"Your response before I rule on the objection Mr. Mehra?"
"Thank you your Honor. Beyond their testimony, we have strong circumstantial evidence that both Officer's were at the scene. First, we have the video showing Officer Hopps unauthorized abduction by four unidentified deer. There is no record of her being officially taken into custody or booked by any law enforcement agency. Second, the defense has not received a final police or forensic report about the incident at the Kinsley estate. Nor has anyone else to our knowledge. This is highly irregular. It has been two weeks since the incident and the only reports we have are from officers Hopps and Wilde, an undated field report from one responding officer, and a compilation of police interviews of Kinsley family members! We do not know for how long the crime scene remained unsecured and uninvestigated.
"Please note items six through fourteen on our evidence list. These were recovered by a joint forensics team from the FBI and Capitol Police from a burrow that officers Hopps and Wilde sheltered in after their escape. They described its hidden location precisely—in the hills only two and a half miles northwest of the estate. It contained fur, food wrappers, two water bottles, and a severed pair of pawcuffs that definitively established their presence through DNA analysis. Item number fifteen is the report."
"The prosecution's objection is overruled," the judge stated firmly after only a minutes consideration. Do you have further questions for this witness Mr. Mehra, or can we go to cross?"
"No further questions your Honor,"
Both legal team's body language was sufficient to show that his defense had won a major battle. Nick understood that they might not be able to get him all the way down to justified mammalcide, but looking at a few years was far better than at a few decades. The judge's flip was easier to understand, he had a position and reputation to protect, and had been put in a difficult position by the Kinsley's attempts to keep their options open. It has become apparent that more of them had lied and or covered up evidence, and would have to take the fall for vulnerable higher-ups—his honor now somewhat legally constrained to help push them over the rail.
"Your Honor, we request a fifteen minute recess," the alpaca asked uncomfortably after alternately looking at Judy and himself.
"Granted, court will resume promptly at ten," the judge said, giving them an extra five minutes or so. "Officer Hopps, you will remain subject to recall to the witness stand." He tapped the block on the bench with his hoof, rather than the gavel, and rose to leave.
The prosecution and two of the correspondents exited hurriedly, followed by half of the spectators. Judy, allowed to as a defense witness, came over to stand in front of their table—but not directly across from Nick. Surreptitious glances showed that both of them knew it was wholly up to society as to how much longer they'd be kept apart.
"Officers," Mr. Mehra said, "the absence of evidence at the scene is insufficient for them to claim that Hopps wasn't there; they and the court will accept that you were now. That leaves them with one option to get a conviction," he looked at Nick, "to show the jury that you violated established police procedures, both those here and the ZPD's, by using excessive force after failing to use non-lethal control measures to try and de-escalate the situation. Unfortunately, this won't be hard for them to do as you are of course expected to find yourselves in dangerous positions, and to protect citizens first. Depending on which additional charges they bring, you will still be looking at from five, to as many as twelve years."
My earlier dropped charges were because the prosecution wanted to prove I wasn't acting in the capacity of an officer. Bogo's justification that I was just means I face a new set!
He'd been warned that the case could turn abruptly—as the judge had. He now appreciated why his defense had concentrated so hard on, to him, so many unlikely scenarios. They had to plan for everything the prosecution might try, and this had been their second worst likely outcome.
Mammals started to file back in—Judy gave him a momentary, heartbreaking look, unsuccessfully reached a paw across the too-wide table, and returned limp eared to the witness box. He hadn't even tried to meet his mate's paw—he knew the chain and cuffs would prevent that.
The judge returned, waited a few seconds, and called them to order exactly at ten. The prosecution's request to bring new charges was granted, and they were read out; again by the goat. First was the return of both of the failure to announce and attempt an arrest charges that had been dropped earlier—this time applied to the deer at the Kinsley estate instead of to unnamed henchmammals out at Deer Trail. Then an 805 failure to de-escalate, an 835(a) use of excessive force, and two 811 applications of deadly force—one presumably for each blow he'd delivered with the knife handle.
"Your Honor, these charges are in addition to those pending for simple assault and second degree murder. We intend to prove that every one of them applies to this sudden, unprovoked, and brutal attack against two unarmed individuals that resulted in the death of Mr. Trace Kinsley. The presence of Officer Hopps at the scene does nothing to justify or even mitigate Officer Wilde's crimes in the eyes of the law. Police officers are required to follow established procedures for the allowable use of force to protect the public. A perceived threat to an officer's police partner does not excuse that officer's failure to adhere to them. Officer Wilde's deliberate failure to do so as shown by his deadly assault requires the harshest imposition of the law."
Judy suddenly made short sharp paw waves at him from the witness stand and then hugged herself. Her intent hit Nick like a sledgehammer between the eyes—he grabbed the nearest memo pad and started frantically scribbling.
"You can't be serious," a leaned over Mr. Mehra said loudly enough to attract the attention of the judge.
"I am, and we can prove it!" Nick said, looking directly at his mate on the stand. She visibly relaxed and her ears firmed up. Mr. Murry also leaned to look; Nick turned his note so he could.
"The defense and the defendant will henceforth maintain proper decorum in my courtroom. Mr. Mehra, do you wish to further question this witness?"
"Uh...yes your Honor...May we have a minute to review the exact text of a statute?"
"Granted, one minute," the judge said to a quiet courtroom with curiosity in his voice.
Mr. Murry had his smartphone out and tapped away after the judge's nod. He and the ocelot read it together, then turned to Mr. Mehra and also nodded. "The modern text supports; it's valid," the fox said.
"Your Honor," Mr. Mehra said slowly, "We wish to invoke the Ancient Law in Officer Wilde's defense."
"Objection!" said two of the prosecutors simultaneously. The alpaca continued. "Officer Wilde was the aggressor, and was never threatened or in any danger whatsoever, this cannot apply!" Some muttering and whispers started to spread around the courtroom.
"We are not invoking the Ancient Law provision of self-defense," Mr Mehra said after the judge had caught his eye, "but the provision for defense of mate or kits!"
Voices immediately grew, both surprised and angry, Judge Ridgeway had to eject one spectator to restore order before overruling the objection. Nick took the opportunity to write down further details for his team.
Mr. Mehra finally stood. "Your Honor, Mr. Murry would be best to question this witness and clarify this...development as he is also familiar with both of these officers." He sat again quickly. The judge waved his permission, and Mr. Murry approached with Nick's second note in paw.
"Officer Hopps, are you and Officer Wilde fully declared mates?"
"Yes," Judy said clearly.
"Did you enter into this arrangement willingly, and before witnesses in a legally recognized manner."
"We did."
"Objection!" bellowed the alpaca prosecutor, "There is no legal way such a grotesque obscenity could be recognized!"
"Overruled. This is an inquiry, and the court wishes to hear their justification for this extraordinary claim before deciding on its validity."
The alpaca looked fit to burst, but sat back down.
"Officer Hopps, can you explain to the court how this arrangement between you and Officer Wilde could have been legally...consummated?"
There were audible gasps from around the courtroom as the word he'd underlined for Mr. Murry left no doubt about the nature of their claim.
"Yes I can," Judy said as carefully as Mr. Murry had spoken. "Shortly before our team, inclusive of Officer Wilde and myself, left to attempt our rescue operation, and recognizing the dangers we all faced, we decided to formalize our previously private relationship. We accomplished that by exchanging traditional fox vows in front of several witnesses, and it was recorded on video. Three of those witnesses are outside this courtroom and are willing to testify on our behalf."
"Officer Hopps, were you aware at the time you exchanged them, that those fox vows are legally recognized as binding?"
"Yes I was, and I'll keep reminding him of that," she said with a smile, pointing at him.
There were scattered chuckles, quickly stifled, around the room before the prosecution objected again.
"Fox vows must be for, and between foxes! There's nothing quite so irrevocable as those for most other species. This...mixed travesty is a mockery of them, and a blatant attempt to distract from Officer Wilde's guilt!"
"There is abundant case law, mostly financial and property related, that refers to 'Fox Vows' as a binding legal and social contract," Mr. Murry said smoothly. "Fox singular. Officer Wilde is a fox who exchanged these vows with his partner. I have litigated many of these actions; I have never seen any requirement in the law for two foxes to be present, although in my prior experience that is usually the case."
"Officer Hopps claimed on the stand that there was video taken of her...their...ceremony," the alpaca said bitingly from his seat, "when can that alleged proof be provided to the court and prosecution?
Judy waved over and whispered to Mr. Murry. He stepped back and spoke with discernible surprise in his voice, "We should be able to provide that video, recorded personally at the Pinnacles Resort by ZNN evening anchor Fabienne Growley, later today."
That fired up the spectators again, and the bailiff was directed to confiscate a phone from one of the newsmammals. Nick glanced over at the prosecution; anger contorting their faces. Murry also noticed.
"Your Honor, may I review the primary issues of this case, and try to resolve this matter? Thank you. As the testimony of our additional witnesses will show, they, and Officer Wilde logically determined that Officer Hopps was most likely being held at the Kinsley estate after being extra-judiciously kidnapped earlier in the day. Officer Wilde determined that an immediate solo rescue attempt had the greatest chance of success. He entered the Kinsley estate with probable cause to rescue not just a fellow officer, but his mutually declared mate. He stated in his deposition that he detected his mate's distinctive scent shortly before he entered the groundskeepers building. Entering just beh..."
"Objection," said one of the cervid prosecutors. "Canid scent recognition is legally acceptable evidence in a court of law; but officer Wilde is a fox."
"Mr. Murry?" the judge said with noticeable exasperation.
"Vulpes, or the true foxes, are a sub-family of Canids and are legally included among them," Mr. Murry said in his best bored lecturer voice. "If I may continue? Officer Wilde entered the building to find his mate clearly visible in the rear, cuffed and locked in a cage, being threatened by the two Kinsley deer, each at least four times his own size and standing between them. Officer Wilde was able to quickly disable the first with a taser, giving the second, Trace Kinsley enough time to arm himself with an edged weapon. There was..."
"Objection. Exaggeration. According to Wilde's deposition, it was a simple garden hoe!"
"Then will you stipulate to the fact that Trace Kinsley was armed at the time of the confrontation?"
"No we will not! There's no physical evidence for that," the deer said in irritation and sat down. 12,892
"It doesn't matter. Trace Kinsley was a larger, more powerful antagonist directly threatening a confined Officer Hopps from her mate's viewpoint. Officer Wilde had no time available for his taser to recharge, and did what he felt he needed to in order to rescue his claimed mate. Although he had a deadly weapon, a knife, he used the handle in an attempt to stun, rather than the blade in an attempt to kill. Trace Kinsley's death was an unfortunate, but entirely legal consequence of this conflict.
"Your Honor, before we move to drop charges against Officer Wilde, I would like to reinforce this conclusion by calling several witnesses, as a group, to help validate our claims before the court."
"Call your witnesses counselor, and bring them before the bench. Officer Hopps, remain in the witness box for now."
Mom and Skye came in together, followed by a still hobbling Jack with his crutch, Nadine bringing up the rear. Introductions were made, and the judge swore them in together, then stated he would question them from the bench. Mr. Murry sat back down at the defense table.
"First a reminder, this is a preliminary inquiry, not a trial. Do you all recognize Officer's Hopps and Wilde as legitimate mates?"
There were three 'yes's' and a 'we do'. The courtroom managed to remain silent.
"Did you all witness the exchange of vows between Judith Hopps and Nicholas Wilde at the Pinnacles Resort?
All except Skye answered 'yes'. The judge asked her for clarification.
"Your Honor, I, along with Mrs. Wilde and Agent Savage, witnessed an earlier, private declaration from Officer Wilde introducing Officer Hopps as his intended mate. I was not present for the actual exchange of vows as I was imprisoned at Deer Trail."
Mrs. Wilde, do you accept your son's unusual choice of a mate?" The judge didn't try to hide his curiosity.
"I do, your Honor. He did far better than I'd hoped," mom said clearly in front of the world. "Judy Hopps saved my son, and brought us back together; I couldn't be happier! And now he has saved her."
"Your Honor!" one of the cervid prosecutors interjected, seemingly unwilling to shout 'objection'. "This has to be a carefully planned and practiced attempt to subvert justice! Is this group of extralegal vigilantes to avoid any consequences for their actions through this subterfuge? It would be morally offensive for this court and our society to give their imprimatur for an obscenity like a fox and rabbit mated pairing!"
Skye took two careful steps over towards Jack, braced him with a paw, then laid her muzzle between his ears and gave him a slight rub. "Why not, I love mine!"
Our last installment will be the epilogue: Save and Close