A.N.
Here we go! Add plot thickener—stir slowly as you bring to a simmer and sprinkle in another character or three. Will the unfolding of this larger active conspiracy force me to write a lot more chapters than I initially expected to? Has this happened to anyone else?
Yes, I read a Zootopia story and liked it. Then another one; liked it too. Now, after some seventy + more stories enjoyed, I've been sucked down a rabbit (and fox) hole, and find myself well into writing my own! That rather cuts into my reading time I've discovered.
Tinbuzzard11
Chapter Eleven:
Do the Hustle
The cerulean metalflake finished roadster drove up the semicircular drive in front of the Park Savanna Hotel, and eased to a growling stop opposite the entrance foyer. The partially visible dark furred driver, attired in a violently purple sleeveless dress and tinted goggles, turned to wave away the approaching goat valet.
Nick Wilde was in the passenger's seat in his green jacket and mirrored aviators—so this had to be her promised ride. Skye rose from her lobby seat and went out to meet them.
The now soft brown vixen was caught a little off-guard; this rumbling bit of ostentation was apparently Dr. Kristen Soren's old car—as per Nick's text. Of course she'd picked him up first; they lived out the same way. Foxdom's latest bad example was now out holding the door for her—he'd gussied himself up with a gold chain, rings and spats around his ankles. Well, she'd agreed to this earlier, and his instructions had been quite simple—show off.
Never a problem Skye thought as she stepped into the immaculate gold accented convertible, her dear Jack had once said she could make a grain sack look erotic, so her cream and copper fitted strapless dress and modest necklace were more than sufficient. Still, Kristen had provided worthy competition—the skunk's dress plunged deeply in front, and her abundant sable fur had spilled over the edges to make it look even more daring.
"Good day Miss Neal," Nick greeted her alias as he slid back alongside. He shut the door, and leaned to casually drape an arm over its top to give her space to avoid the roadster's gearshift. The seatbelt was long enough to accommodate both slender vulpines and Skye took the opportunity to lean in herself and take a surreptitious sniff as he passed it over. She noted lots of soap, some Odor-Away, and a detectable hint of Judy. Uh huh. Foxcon here might have gotten away with it if she hadn't been quite so familiar with the rabbit's scent herself!
"Showing up in this," Nick enthused, "will work way better than walking over from public transit! I seriously couldn't believe this was our dusty old fossil monger's ride—a ninety Pierce Prowler!"
Kristen wore a smile of infinite satisfaction, as she didn't quite burn rubber peeling away from the hotel. Skye rapidly matched her expression—this was welcome fun and they were already attracting stares! The grinning skunk swiftly and expertly navigated the streets to avoid the mid-day congestion near the square, which seemed to indicate that this car had often graced the museum's staff parking lot. At one point, she unconcernedly passed a ZPD cruiser; Nick's idle paw wave showed he'd tipped the precinct as to their intent. Another minute or two and they were eastbound on Acacia at a more sedate traffic mandated pace. The pimped-out undercover lowlife next to her pulled his tongue back in and turned to speak.
"Team's all together now Doc, so explain this before I haul you in for stealing it!" Nick's grin matched theirs. Skye hadn't seen him this happy before. They'd definitely been together; determining how far the newly joined couple had gone would have to wait for another time.
"Glovebox suspicious todd, and watch the pawprints!" Kristen gave him a quick glance and returned her attention to the road.
Nick delicately popped it open with a claw as Skye watched. Inside, a pair of white gloves rested atop a neat package of vehicular paperwork. Obviously, this beast was no stranger to car shows. There was an engraved plaque inside the compartment door, and Nick's muzzle swiveled from it to their driver and back before he clicked it shut.
"So you're associated with Stinky's. If you hadn't shown up before coffee, I mighta figured that out," Nick said in a tone of voice that suggested he'd already suspected.
"Yep!" the skunk said happily. "We can make anything run way faster! Oh sorry Skye, we're one of the top garages and mod shops in Zootopia—our own track racing team and everything. Dad picked this up at an estate sale for a hoarder who didn't take very good care of what he had. It was only in fair shape, and I got it on condition that I do at least half of the restoration work. I knew I'd still get it since it's the year I was born, but I did the work anyway!"
"From restoring cars to restoring fossils, interesting career progression," commented Skye.
"I reconstruct fossils. I've always liked working with my paws. Parents insisted on college and it was a course description on how we all came to be that steered me into biology. Lots of unanswered questions—decided to try and answer a few about these." Kristen lifted both paws off the wheel and wiggled them for a scary moment.
Nick's directions led them across the river into Sahara Square and up towards the Canyonlands area, alongside a small arroyo whose watercourse was mostly hidden by tamarisk and cottonwoods. They approached a wider spot between road and greenery that held a convenience store with an overlarge parking area that extended well behind it. It was mostly empty except for a motley cluster of vehicles way in the back.
"This is it, turn in here," Nick said. "Cruise past that airbrushed red van, it's his—Skye, look at it carefully! Then for that bench with the awning—I see him there. Make an entrance and stop about fifty feet away."
Kristen drove slowly as if she were looking for a close in spot in the last row. The well-worn van had fantasy artwork on it in the style of a Furzetta. Either a large buff fox or a lean wolf was clad as a barbarian warrior. Everything was there: sneer of triumph, straps, rings, inadequate but revealing protective plates, broadsword, and a storming background. A snow-white vixen had swooned in his arms—so foxes. Her form hugging attire was somewhat akin to Skye's own except it was green. So that's the role Nick had in mind for her. Piece of cake.
Kristen accelerated noisily in first gear directly towards the small figure on the bench, then let the engine slow them again before she swung the wheel left, tapped the brakes and slid them ninety degrees to a stop at the specified distance. They rocked back level before Nick quickly grabbed a can in a foam insulator from behind the seat, exited, and stood with his elbows slightly spread. Skye linked arms on his right as Kristen took his other, and they walked over to the bench taking care to synchronize the sway of their tails.
A small fennec fox in khaki pants and a dark T-shirt stood there with a dubious expression that slowly morphed to a scowl. Skye looked up at Nick and petted his forearm to forestall her laughter a little longer, as Kristen leaned her head against his shoulder. They managed to hold it together until the fennec couldn't.
"No Freakin' way," he said in an unexpectedly deep near growl, looking at them in turn. "I know you too well Nick; you're expecting to hustle me into sumpthin! Why'dja even try?"
"Just wanted to show you the benefits of clean living Fin!" Nick said brightly, which deepened the fennec's scowl. The little fox's muzzle was now aimed squarely at Nick, but the eyes under his now pushed up shades were roving over her.
"Clean livin? So you show up like a B movie conmammal after not calling for a month to what...impress me? For what? And these two are way above your level! Besides, the way she was drivin it, it's her car!" He pointed at Kristen then sat down and folded his arms.
Kristen gave the glaring fennec a friendly smile for his likely unintentional complement and sat next to him on the bench. She patted her lap as he turned to look. "He's kind of snuggly—can I keep him Nicholas?"
Skye deflated the petite fox's swelling outrage as she slid close on his other side and let her tail stray behind him. "Aren't you going to introduce us Nicky?"
"Yes, of course...forgive my manners! Finnick, this is Cassie, and this is Kristie," Nick said slowly as if he were acquainting first graders. "Ladies, this is my long time partner in..."
"Can it Nick, ya pulled a nice stunt, but this ain't you since bunny cop started keeping you on the straight n narrow. So what's the game here?"
Exactly as planned. Skye had to give Nick credit, he knew his small friend well, and had kept him on the edge of fulmination—until his curiosity won out. Nick passed over the amply sized drink he held to Finnick, and gently admonished "both paws!" He then sat on her other side still working on his friend, who'd have to look around her to see him.
"I'll tell you once your Getting is complete Finnick. Enjoy your beer." Nick's grin prompted the small fox to push the can part way out of the foam sleeve and look at it in brief puzzlement. Finnick's eyes went from the can of Borealis past her to Nick. He had straightened up with his arms out, so Skye pushed up from the bench and settled into them. She then draped her left arm over Nick's shoulder, closed her eyes and let her head and ears fall back as they shifted into an approximation of the van's artwork pose.
"Yeah...right—pretty close though. What's the point?" Finnick's grumble had softened, as his eyes flicked between Nick, herself, and the van a couple of times, then watched as she raised her head and slowly smiled.
"This works better when I'm in my winter coat," she cooed provocatively. "When you've wrapped your paw around me."
"No," Finnick said in a small voice, "you totally gotta be shittin me!" He looked carefully between her and the can before it slipped out of his paws onto the bench between his legs.
Skye sat up quickly with an assist from Nick and opened her white pawbag. "I'm sure I've got a card from my ad agency in here somewhere cutie. Look, he really is one Kristie; we have an ear apiece, maybe we should help him relax." She slid the rest of the way off Nick's arm, and they both slowly reached for the wide-eyed little fox sitting rigidly between them.
"Alright then," Nick clapped his paws and got a visible jerk out of Finnick. "Down to business, we don't want to put him in the cardiac ward ladies. Item one; Finnick, I'm claiming you as the victim of a one hundred percent, totally awesome and with witne..."
"Ok! Ok! Never thought you could pull somethin like this off—but ya did," Finnick hastily interrupted Nick's victory address. "But whatever you're after with me I hafta know, how did you have the connections?" The flustered little fox waved vaguely at her.
"C'mon Fin, you know I know everybody." Nick had the upper paw over his compatriot and was enjoying it. Skye sensed a long-term rivalry beneath their association.
"That's just a regular crack of yours Nick! Seriously, how do you know her!" His apparently normal irascibility was returning; anger seemed to be the fennec's go-to refuge.
"For you, I'll come clean," Nick soothed, "Cassie here is one of Judy's friends, they go out shopping and dining from time to time. Kristie and me like cars. I was on desk duty a while back and called her as part of a case follow-up. She sounded nice and invited me over; we talked for hours. Later, she met Cassie and invited all of us over to her place for dinner!"
"Your bunnycop is friends with the fox? And she fixed you up with her?" Finnick's voice was heading for cardiovascular event territory again. "And you're going out with...they're ok with each other? No, no, no way, you couldn't possibly be pulling this off, not you."
"Every word I've told you is technically true." Nick's ears twitched. "Uh, any other clarification needs to be in private—so van everyone?"
Skye had heard it too, a group of several mammals behind them. There was a path to one side of the bench that, according to the adjacent sign, was a trailhead that doubled as entrance to a campground down in the arroyo. She headed for the van at a brisk walk, which forced Finnick to run ahead. It required a firmly held jaw to avoid laughing at his haste as his head swiveled between her, the oversize can now back in his paws, and the side of the van before he jumped up onto the bumper to open the rear door for her. Nick had eased back a few paces to watch the show, and a rumble from behind revealed Kristen was reparking the beast.
It was possible that she might have inspired whoever had done the mural, so she gave Finnick his moment to invite an artistic fantasy come to life into his—once she looked inside—cluttered mobile apartment.
It may have been a make-out den for some free-spirited type—a couple of decades ago. Now it had been modified for its present shorter resident. The forward third of the van's interior had a second floor installed at about shoulder level to her. A small folded sofa bed was against one side up there with a hinged table opposite. Below and behind the narrow access ladder was a cabinet with a washbasin across from a cooler. Edged and stretch netted shelving and racks back along both sides held necessities from tools to toiletries. The floor was buried under a worn earthtone carpet that had obviously been much lighter years ago. Skye gingerly seated herself on a small footstool, after Nick set its improvised plywood tabletop behind a couple of large jars, as it was likely the cleanest surface in there.
Finnick climbed, can under arm, to perch on the edge of his upper floor where he likely felt more secure, while Nick sat on something rolled in the corner near the door. Light flooded in as Kristen rejoined them to sit on a box opposite Nick, while he closed the door and returned them to the dusky illumination from the smoke-shaded side windows. As crepuscular and nocturnal mammals, the dim light was fine for them all, but as an arctic fox the temperature wasn't fine for her. It was already hot enough inside to prove the pop-up ceiling vent inadequate, and Kristen had started to look for something to fan herself with.
"You really are...?" Finnick silently tapped his beer can as if he was afraid he'd wake up.
"In the fur honey." Skye focused her most enticing smile on him. "If we all get through this, we'll get our picture taken next winter and I'll autograph it for you. Maybe your van too. Now, Officer Wilde here will explain the mission we're recruiting you for today." The surly little fox seemed ready for their pitch; as he cycled between numb acceptance and irritable disbelief, his resistance curtailed. Nick had insisted this was the quickest way to breach his friend's cynical and distrustful barriers to gain his cooperation, and her connection to the beer and van art had been too irresistibly perfect for either of them to feel guilty about its use.
"Nick, she makes this sound like some kind of spy movie. Recruit me? Mission?
"Exactly what it is Fin. Short version, Bellwether's arrest didn't end the anti-predator conspiracy last year; we've recently discovered that she was only the local part of a larger, more organized one embedded in the federal government. You remember what it was like before we exposed her, civil unrest, calls to restrict predators, lots of us paranoid and hiding out." Nick's words put a discernable mien of fear onto Finnick. "Those speciest forces have waited, learned from their mistakes, and are now active again! This time they could win.
"We don't know yet how widespread this recent anti-pred movement is, we're not sure who in federal authority we can trust right now. You I know. We think we've found a way to stop part of their plans and that's where you come in—as in we need an inside mammal to gather evidence to bring down a rogue ZBI agent trying to sabotage a major pred run company. This is the opportunity you and I always wanted." Nick held up his paws in a there-it-is gesture.
"You're goin against the government, and the ZBI? That's your big opportunity? And who exactly is we? Just us takin the risk? You lost enough friends and contacts when you became a cop! I don't even see bunnycop here. And I thought we'd still keep what we had." Finnick had recovered his attitude again; the glare and crossed arms were back. It shouldn't matter now, Skye knew, they'd banked on some part of Finnick's ego wanting to emulate Nick's big break in life, and he was still talking—bitter content notwithstanding.
"We're not idiots, neither is the ZPD, we're trying to protect society—the same one you live in—from another major interspecies threat." Nick held up a finger and made sure Finnick noticed. "Judy is working another part of this investigation." He flipped up another finger. "These two will set you up for your new job, one you'd better not tell anybody about even when you've collected the evidence and alerted the ZPD through their secure contact." Another rose. "Stealth is mandatory, we can't alert the conspirators until we know the full extent of their plans, so all of us operate on a need to know basis. Just like the spy movies."
"Cops—and you seem to be the only one of those here Nick—do undercover all the time, so why'd you ask me, unless you're the unofficial ones workin the wrong side! So what would I get out of all this if you convince me to stick my neck out n be dumb enough to try and hustle a ZBI agent?" The little fennec was trying to anger his way out of their clutches.
Nick managed to suppress his smirk as she stood and took a single step towards Finnick—who'd set himself up perfectly—so she was eye to eye with him. Skye did the flip, and the little fox's face fell as he stared at her badge and agency warrant.
"Because you have an opportunity to assist the ZBI agents like me that value their integrity, so we can bring down those who have abandoned theirs for darker motives!" Skye watched his cute little fangs for a few seconds, as his mouth remained open. "Did you think that with talent like mine," she sinuously waved her tail, "that I'd just be content with a career in advertising?"
"What about her? She an agent too?" Finnick pointed limply at Kristen.
"We're all part of the standard team Fin," Nick jumped back in, "I'm the suave playfox, Cassie's the femme fatale..."
"And I handle the cool cars and gadgets in the lab," Kristen said briskly. "But I'm not an agent. I kinda got recruited like you," the skunk added helpfully.
"So what do I hafta do? Not that I'm agreein to anything yet! I still better get something outta this!" Finnick seemed to think that at least one of them would benefit from his rubbing money fingers at them—which dropped him an ill affordable notch in Skye's estimation.
Nick was ready for this. "As cover for the job, you get hired for an actual job with AblePaws; they're a company that makes prost..."
Yeah, I know who they are. They make fancy hooks n grabbers for mammals with hoofs and shit. It'd take years to hustle enough to buy n appropriate finger from them to flip you off with!" Finnick made the gesture and seemed miffed that it only earned smiles from them.
"While you're there, you'll earn a decent paycheck and your first honest, resume worthy profile in city records. Expose the sabotage and I'm sure the company will be grateful, and like me you should get a few unfortunate items removed from your record—in your case, the ZPD one. Get the evidence and help bring this dude down, he's their head of company security." Nick passed the photo of Alex Dustin to her, and although the coyote's picture wasn't slimy, she still made a show to hold it by a corner and hurry it on to Finnick.
"He looks hardassed and is bigger than you Nick; what if he makes me? Hustlin's been hard since you left, and this ain't exactly the opportunity I was hoping for!"
"Done right, you should never meet on the job," the larger con-fox continued, "he might catch you occasionally on a surveillance camera, but you are both supposed to be on-site during the early morning shutdown. That's when maintenance and stores deliveries take place. It's a high-tech, mostly rodent workforce; they'll be pretty much gone by then and you're small enough to move through those areas of the plant and keep out of sight as you watch him. Listen, take notes, and get video of him in the act; the ladies here will give you the rest of the details." Nick reached for the door handle. "There's more to this investigation that I need to go take care of now, Finnick. They'll drive you down there and get you set up—remember, your part in this case is just as important as ours."
"You need to keep a low profile, so take public transit to work; there's a station across the street from the plant," Skye said, trying not to break into a pant and hoping Nick would actually open the oven door. "We can't have anyone connect you to Nick through something as obvious as your van. Kristie and I can take you down there this afternoon to meet with our management contacts; my alias will identify us. They'll start the hiring process so you appear legitimate, and get you fitted for a uniform."
"A uniform! What kind of a job is this?" Finnick snapped. He ignored her and glared at Nick—who finally had the door cracked open and looked ready to leap as he said...
"Janitor."
"WHAT!"
Hare or rabbit didn't matter; the ears revealed the mood. It was a tell they all had to live with; no lagomorph was immune. Jack's had semaphored anger and then resignation as he read down the page displayed on his tablet. Judy decided to not read over his shoulder in the swaying railcar and to wait for the bad news, although she'd recognized the ZNN website.
The inner loop line had gone underground one stop ago, so they were nearly there. It was the most aggravating commuter annoyance in Zootopia; that although Savanna Central Square and the middle of downtown were less than four miles apart, it was an eleven stop roundabout ride through the middle of Sahara Square to go from one to the other on the ZTA.
As periodically pointed out to a skeptical populace by transit engineers, pre-existing buildings, a four hundred foot upslope, and hard rock drilling all the way save for one unfortunately placed seam with high water pressure, made the direct line difficult to implement. However, that didn't stop the calls to do something about it.
At the Herd street station, Jack was easily able to maintain personal space for them amid the crowd headed for the exit. It seemed the tall hare with the rather predatory markings had a superpower—or more likely that his attempt at anonymous professional attire still had FED written all over it. The upper half of the iconic Impala tower hove into view as the escalator delivered them to street level. Proteo Foods, as befitted one of Zootopia's largest corporations, was a home office tenant there. The base of the tapered and twisted edifice was still a few minutes walk away—time enough to find out what had grated Jack's parsnips.
"I didn't catch the news this morning, what happened?" Judy asked, choosing to conceal her big news for a little longer.
"Not the news, an editorial," Jack made the word ugly, then waited until no others were close by before he continued. "Its byline is a pseudonym the agency uses to disseminate needed information to the public. Seems we've just changed format to outright propaganda. It points out a...public concern about the rising number of reports of predatory antisocial or aggressive behavior, and what should be done to help more civilized mammals recognize the signs and protect themselves. No real statistics, so I'd better have Skye check if there's really been any increase in the average number of reports being filed."
"Sounds related to that letter Bogo got," Judy said, "do you think they want to exploit the leftover prejudice and fear from the savage predator crisis?" It was certain that some of the conspirator's schemes had dated from that time, and that Bellwether had prematurely implemented her part of it. Perhaps they were trying to salvage some benefit from her lapse.
"That works to their advantage only in Zootopia, Hopps, but it goes beyond here; I think this is the start of a more general campaign to stoke the public's instinctive fears and get them to accept later repression. Remember that speciest elements in the ZBI and Department of Justice have already started to redefine predatory crime and conduct. I expect more of these editorials and claimed reports to show up in cities all over the country from now on.
"Our opponents are still trying to get ahead of recent events. They've been patiently waiting to prepare their plans and get people in place, until they were caught unawares by our recent archaeological finds and forced to accelerate things. We just have to confirm how all that relates to their agenda and try to predict where it's going."
"I'll make sure the chief is aware of it Savage; he watches governmental and behavioral trends and I'm sure he could even request that information in a way our conspirators would find...satisfying." That earned her a faint smile and nod of approval from Jack. Some of the hare's professional paranoia had rubbed off on her, as she also watched to ensure that nobody else could overhear them.
"My thoughts exactly Hopps; like myself, Bogo's in the perfect position to slowly become more receptive to our opponents agenda and possibly encourage them to divulge some of it. And just like you, he would be a valuable ally for the conspiracy if they could turn him—they'll try simply because that would be easier than marginalizing or replacing him. This will be a severe test of the trust between your chief and his predator officers if he has to demonstrate his compliance with higher authority to maintain his position. Unfortunately, this might eventually require both of us to sacrifice our foxes willingly to their intrigues to maintain our own separation. Our mates understand this already."
Judy couldn't avoid flushed ears and a slight shiver due to his choice of words. She wondered how long it would take her to make the perceptual transition from me to we, and what she'd do if society forced them apart again. Beside her, Jack's slight hesitation before he continued showed he'd noticed. "Our problem now is convincing certain other predators to remain passive while under threat!" Jack said, while he waved at the tower that loomed before them.
"We'd still be ignorant of most of this without you and Skye—have you decided yet how you're going to break your assigned role to set up Proteo to the Growley's?"
"I still haven't been able to think of anything better than just coming clean with Derreck, and praying to the moon that he can convince Fabienne to sit on the likely biggest story of her career!" Jack shook his head enough to flex his ears. "At least your celebrity status was able to get you into a one-on-one meeting with him! It's up to you; go charm the billionaire!"
She went into the expansive blue glass and stainless bas-relief paneled lobby while Jack remained outside—he wasn't supposed to make direct contact with the company, only gather intelligence to subvert it. He was to involve her in his investigations if possible, so if he was seen to bring her here that would be in keeping with his mission. As a new recruit to the conspiracy, the hare was convinced he'd be under some surveillance and had told her he wanted an opportunity to spot his tail.
Proteo Foods occupied the sixteenth through eighteenth floors—barely a quarter of the way up—they seemed to value floorspace over a more impressive view. Her badge, ID card, and a brief but humiliating pat down from an impassive ring tailed cat got her admitted to the inner sanctum—once her scheduled appointment time arrived. She doubted it would have been any different had she'd been in uniform.
Her polar bear escort actually monitored his watch for half a minute before he opened the elephant sized portal at the correct instant. Judy walked into a somewhat shadowy cave lit indirectly through its wide irregular mouth to her left. Walls, ceiling, and slightly undulating floor seemed to all be native rock—irregular enough to appear as if a natural formation had been reassembled here. She walked in slowly, eyes down; there seemed to be enough small bumps and shadowed areas scattered about to catch an unwary foot otherwise. Warm light brightened from recesses above, all focused around a larger mass ahead and a bit to her right.
Derreck Growley, the principal shareholder and CEO of Proteo was revealed seated behind it, the large snow leopard's dark eyes examining her. Set before the polished slab of a desk that extended from an off-center rocky mound, was an appropriately sized seat for her—placed low enough that she'd have to look well up at the powerful mammal.
Judy carefully suppressed her indignation—not a foot thump or even a nose twitch rabbit! This whole set-up reeked of dominance, manipulation, and privilege. It seemed well designed to keep supplicants disconcerted during their audience. She chose to stand silently behind the provided simple seat with her arms crossed. She smiled slightly—for her self-control, not the leopard's benefit—as she waited.
"Very well officer Hopps. Explain to me the return on investment I will receive for granting our city's uncharacteristically silent celebrity fifteen minutes of my valuable time."
Jack was right about the notoriously arrogant businessmammal, this was a test of her resolve—but her mere presence here showed Mr. Growley was curious as well. Now how would Nick respond to this? His previous lifestyle had emphasized economics and profit...
"Mister Growley sir, you may need to push back your next appointment as it might take somewhat longer to discuss your chances of keeping what you already have." Judy knew she could have phrased that better given more time—but that's what came out.
"I haven't heard that overt a threat in a very long time! I would be hopeful that an out of uniform rookie officer might still be smart enough to choose her next words carefully." He started to rhythmically drum his claws on the desk; tic, tic, tic, tick...tic, tic, tic, tick...
"We are here to warn you about a severe threat to you and your company, not to make one! We can't give you all of the details because we don't know them yet, but we hope we have enough for you to take it seriously and protect yourself." Thankfully, that stopped his incessant tattoo and locked stare; it had started to excite an involuntary panic she didn't want to reveal to the assertive predator.
"Ms. Hopps, is this 'we' you speak of referring to the ZPD? If not, I can easily call your chief and report your apparent insubordination." A panel to one side of the desk tilted up, and he lifted a phone receiver and tapped at a hidden screen. He listened briefly before his face clouded over.
"We expected you would, mister Growley, but you must do it securely." Judy pulled out the cheap cellphone and stepped up to the desk to place it within reach of the leopard. He has brought up Bogo before she had to; that might make this a bit easier. "He will confirm my purpose here. Use the number in this burner phone, he has another since right now we're more worried about his end being monitored."
That put a brief surprised expression on the leopard's face as he reached for the undersized flip phone, opened it and delicately selected the number with a claw tip. He gave her an annoyed look as he did so, which she answered with a 'what do you expect' shrug. She would have had to carry one his size under her shirt like a breastplate.
"Adrian, Derreck! Before we continue, give me the approximate date that we last met!"
Judy didn't have to exercise much of her auditory ability to hear the desperate howl from the tortured device in Growley's paw. "August second! Important...listen to Hopps...curity is paramou...make...o further tracea...le contac...ZPD...r to me...e will initiate any!" The call terminated with a crack that likely meant the chief was sweeping electronic detritus into his wastebasket.
Growley stared at the phone in his paw for a moment before he passed it back over and shared a look with her. That was angry and abrupt even by Bogo standards and her sense of unease returned. The chief knew how to put on a deferential facade for politicians and business moguls but didn't seem to care about using that self-control right now. Before she could arrange her thoughts to fill the silence, a soft tone sounded and Growley listened to his own phone.
"Would the hare with the strange markings in reception be the rest of your we?" he said.
Her nod and his curt "yes" had Jack join them within the minute. Judy turned as the door opened and drooped her right ear just enough for him to see as he entered. Her other would have meant—careful, be diplomatic. Jack marched past her with a severe face and swept back ears to place his credentials on Growley's desk. He waited until they had registered on the leopard's face.
"Special agent Savage, Mr. Growley; we have a lot to talk about and less time than I expected to do it. Do you trust the staff that knows of Hopps and my identities, or that is aware of our presence here?"
"Yes, since last years...difficulties, I've found it prudent to keep my schedule private. Now," Growley's voice became severe, "what concern of mine warrants this...joint display of reckless assertiveness?"
"Your most basic," Savage gazed evenly at the now on his feet predator, who'd decided to be dominant and lean towards them with his paws on the desk, long tail slowly waving behind him. "Now before I continue, can you assure us that this conversation will remain dark?" The snow leopard sat back down thwarted, as neither of them had shied back in the slightest. He tapped at his screen again and gave Jack a nod.
"And most importantly sir," Jack continued, "that the only things that your mate will know about this conversation will be what we authorize, since your very lives may be at stake here."
"I can assume that you would consider our freedom of speech and that of the press she represents, and my own considerable resources to be inadequate responses?" Growley's voice was curious now and Judy tried to unobtrusively release her tension at the clearing of their first obstacle—getting one so powerful to give credence to those seen as below him.
"Unless you're willing to publish an expose of your personal finances and the sources and production methods for your Proteo meat substitute, then yes. Or unless you purchase the federal government outright, then also yes."
"So the threat that you both have alluded to comes from within the government?"
"You remarked about last year's difficulties," Judy told him, appreciative that Jack's subtle ear twitch had deferred to her for at least the synopsis. "Their cause remains active today. Bellwether's savage predator plot was only one local part of a much larger anti-predator conspiracy that was temporarily derailed by her premature implementation of it."
"Back on track, full head of steam, and they're about to tie you to the rails—being melodramatic, mister Growley," Jack stated. "This is a major effort to not just make other mammals fear predators again, but to totally discredit, vilify, and remove them from society for good—with you and your company as the prime target."
"As a public figure of considerable notoriety, I am used to being the target of envy and projected revenge. My order remains feared due to a primitive past we cannot escape due to our very biology—the very word pronunciation predjudice illustrates that!" He cast a critical glance towards her that she ignored. Automatic intimidation of his perceived lessers seemed an ingrained part of this leopard's personality. "I have staff in place to deal with the malign efforts of other's. I pay them well, and they also ensure that the government won't have cause to bring action against my interests." Growley considered. "You say that these conspirators will have no difficulty with legal protections—so you must be assuming they will use physical means? Do you think this will actually be condoned and backed by the rest of the government?"
"Mister Growley sir," Jack began, "we've reached the point where we need to provide some background for you. Before I begin, I'll answer your question with a yes. None of the normal protections of society will apply if our enemies are able to pull off their most likely plot. They intend to set up, then expose a crime of yours—and predators in general—so vile that the howling mob will solve their issues with predators permanently!"
"And you think I'm not aware of my own business!" Growley was back on his feet, tail thrashing, and shouting. "I spend a fortune on testing, tamper proof packaging, and end to end traceable secure production! We have a dozen lawsuits a year about actual meat being found in our products—extortion attempts! Usually turns out to be some prey mammal behind them. Three months ago one of those chittering government inspectors tried to take advantage of that! Now I've got two rabbits insinuating the same thing's about to happen on a larger scale!" Growley made a visible effort to regain control. "Why exactly are you two here and not someone more...suitable for convincing me of another anti-pred conspiracy."
"Because," Judy started at Jack's nod, "I helped take down the last one—and agent Savage was recruited as part of this one! Also it's important that the conspirators remain ignorant of what we know already and not push forward their plans. We need time more than anything else to discover what those plans are. You really are their prime target—they don't know we know that—so don't risk any overt contact between Proteo and the ZPD or ZBI. Uniformed ZPD officers would have been seen here and reported by a probable embedded operative like your inspector. Remember what the chief said!" That sat Growley down again.
"The government as a whole is unaware of this conspiracy to date, however, it has been ongoing for well over a year," Jack said. "Some of us discovered it within the ZBI by accident when we noticed a pattern of predators in senior positions being replaced at well above the normal attrition rate. Several have been forced out by manufactured scandals. Replacement hiring of predators has virtually ceased. This is also happening in at least one other government department."
Jack seemed to decide that he'd stood before Growley's dark slab long enough. He walked slowly towards the mouth of the faux cave, and Judy followed as soon as she noticed Growley also rise to his feet. They ended just outside, where a gallery followed the curve of the building's windows. The short side to their right went to a stairwell; the other curved around with a view inside over an office bay as well as out over the city. They were high enough for the view to be impressive; facing a foreshortened climate wall with Sahara Square to the right and Tundratown to the left behind other downtown buildings. Growley seemed content to watch a passing news helicopter while waiting for Jack to resume.
"There's been a recent push within the agency to develop tools to efficiently monitor and control any perceived atavistic predators," the hare said quietly. "Their legally acceptable behavior is also under review by the Department of Justice. This is a stealthy multi-pronged assault on your rights—all promoted by prey individuals over the brief objections of predators. That stopped once it was perceived to be a career killer for those many positions not subject to public scrutiny. I myself recently overheard an update on the push to weaken the mobbing statutes to provide greater recourse to those who feel vulnerable."
"That's outrageous! Those are some of the pieces of legislation that were necessary for the integration of predators into society. That puts a cornered predator back into a no-win situation—try to escape, and it's a threatening move in front of dozens of prey witnesses!" Growley looked at her as if she hadn't studied civil law in the academy.
"Sir, check today's ZNN web editorial to reinforce to you that steps such as this are being implemented. There will certainly be more to come; our conspirators are far more disciplined and patient than before. Those like me that don't adhere to their goals, already find it dangerous to seek the like minded. I deliberately made an intemperate remark about a co-worker where it could be overheard and allowed myself to be gradually recruited into the conspiracy. As a field agent, I can be groomed into a valuable asset for them, although I'm still low level in their hierarchy, not privy to planning or knowing more than a few contacts. I was sent here to research your company indirectly—certainly as a test of my usefulness and reliability—hence my caution."
"Agent Savage; Officer Hopps; you have painted me as the prime target for this conspiracy; obviously the broad market reach of our products can be used to stain a majority of predators with their falsified carnivorism. Do you know what they will try to arrange and how they intend to plausibly prove it? Deliberate product alteration is a problem we have great experience with." Growley clasped his paws behind his back and continued to stare out the window at Zootopia below.
"We're now in the realm of speculation," Jack said. "There are many possibilities and almost no evidence yet of which they may pursue. I'm fairly certain that more attempts will be made to tamper with your products merely to prepare the public for the reveal of the greater set-up crime. Of course there's the obvious accusation of meat in your meat substitute. It might be contamination by some chemical they've developed that makes preds more irritable and prone to outbursts. It's even possible that a few of your earlier product lawsuits may have been...probing attempts of your defenses. A list of basic information about those would be helpful for us to research the possible associations."
"In any case," Judy led them back into Growley's cave, "we are fairly certain of their endgame. Their purpose is to have an upset, instinctively sensitized prey population ready for the revelation"—she jumped onto Growley's desk and turned to the surprised CEO, on her toes, ears erect, as close to eye level with him as she could get. "That you have been farming; raising prey mammals in secrecy to kill and render them for their meat!"
Judy felt a wave of relief at seeing Growley's wide eyed, open mouthed, frozen face. Her spur of the moment leap to his desk seemed to have paid off. It was his fault anyway for not offering them decent seats. Jack sprang to join her and seized the brief opportunity to reinforce the point.
"We are certain that this was not their original plan. A very recent archaeological discovery that we cannot reveal any details about was made, then immediately and brutally suppressed. This is a gift for the anti-pred conspirators, and they are rapidly trying to take advantage of it." Jack stepped closer to her and put a paw on her shoulder. "We two are among the perhaps dozen mammals on both sides that have seen this absolutely unequivocal evidence for the existence of recent historical meat farms."
They let Growley have time to process this—a good two minutes passed before he softly spoke.
"This is completely insane, how could they get anyone to believe we'd do this; we couldn't possibly hide an operation large enough to supply more than a fraction of our customers. It makes no sense to take the risk; Proteo is nutritionally complete and has high customer satisfaction—the modern dietary advancement! We only imply that you don't need natural meat anymore. That's how we have to advertise it to avoid too much criticism from disgusted prey mammals. Now you say I'm facing something more like that carnivore cult mini-series that was cancelled a few years ago."
She felt Jack twitch beside her at that comment.
"Oh shit," he said, "I'd completely forgotten about that one! Timing's right...and there was a controversy about the cancellation. Something about graphic subject matter. It's meaningless what you have now mister Growley, they'll just claim you did it earlier before you'd developed your meat substitute. Just as guilty! Or that maybe elite predators demand natural meat even now—you're the arrogant rich asshole after all, the mob will want to believe. Logic or proof is not required to trigger ancient prejudice and instincts."
"And I will tie by association nearly all predators directly to our unforgivable bloody past. How far will they take this? We felines are the obvious targets for prey mammals, being obligate carnivores, but how will they define predation among omnivores, by type of prey, by percentage of diet? How many will be made vulnerable before they are satisfied?" Growley physically sagged as he spoke, having finally acquiesced to the irritating prey before him.
"We have no idea, these mammals are hidden zealots, we can only guess at their ultimate desires—just recognize that they're contrary to civilization," Jack said. "That is why we two are here, some of us still believe in what we've built!" He waved towards the window.
"Do you have evidence for any others targeted by these conspirators, and their objectives for doing so?" Growley said, apparently feeling uncomfortably isolated.
"Yes," Judy said. "There is also a sophisticated sabotage underway to discredit the AblePaws Corporation; its owner..." Growley raised a paw.
"I am aware, Sandra attends my yearly business roundtable."
"Contact her privately, and securely, ask about her daughter Cassie. That will let her know you're aware mister Growley. We have already begun to assist her."
"As for Proteo Foods, how do you recommend we respond to this threat at this time?"
"With no more than what you're already doing," Jack said. "The only way to stop this plot is to let it develop as we covertly gather intelligence, then expose their operation before they are ready to do so themselves. Risky, but we have to find and catch them in possession of their illegitimate evidence to prove their guilt. Otherwise, it's all on you. Secrecy is crucial; the conspirator's ignorance of any organized opposition is our only advantage right now. That means no hint of any of this to your newsy mate! I am aware of your counter arguments—remember, they will be of no avail when you are being dragged away as one of history's great villains."
"That might be impossible," Growley looked pained, "Fabienne has a sixth sense for a story—or secrets, particularly mine."
"Then, sir, may I offer a distraction? I felt this might be needed and the publicity might even mildly aid our efforts. Rumor has it that if one were to inquire discreetly of sources associated with the prison out in the meadowlands, you might become aware of a notorious and relevant inmate being transferred by air to the Federal District early Friday morning."
"I'll have someone call her anonymous tip line. Oh, and agent Savage; thank you for suggesting that I not record any of this. Losing a pissing contest with a Hare would not be good for my image if it got out."
Jack passed a card over to Growley. "This is a pair of contact numbers if you need to inform us of any developments. There's a list of numerical abbreviations as well to keep text messages ambiguous and short. I will send you a more secure receiver soon." They both hopped off his desk.
Judy watched Jack leave and listened to Growley describe his desk for a few minutes for them to unwind. It was actually rather interesting—she had trod upon a three billion year old polished piece of a banded iron formation. Life was merely bacterial back then he explained, with no oxygen in the air at all. She wondered if the slab provided incentive for the wealthy feline to match his fortune to its age. Growley remained quite courteous while ushering her out of his office.
"Suzette! Here I am!" Jack's voice called from across the street. He made it to the zebra at the corner and beat the light across. Judy tilted her face up to allow him a chaste peck on her cheek. Skye was right; he did love to exercise his simpler bits of spycraft. The two everybunnies continued walking away from the Impala tower.
"Lives up to his reputation," she said. "I think we succeeded, he did listen without a lot of objection—although without his calling chief Bogo to verify me and getting chewed, we would've been out on our tails.
"Growley let your chief gnaw on him?"
"He sure did, I'm worried that something's gone wrong from what I heard out of him."
"Well let's hope the rest of us are as successful as we were," Jack said, "I don't expect we'll hear from them for a few more hours—I'm still reluctant to use that untrained 'friend' as our mole in AblePaws."
"You wouldn't like him if you met him—I have and I'm still not sure—but Nick trusts him completely."
"Well it's not like we have a deep team right now. Oh...duty calls, at least they waited 'til we're out of the lair back there." Jack slipped out his slightly bulky; rubber armored phone and carefully tapped in a twelve digit code.
"Oh shit!" Jack's ears splayed out.
"Oh shit, dammit, they're moving too fast! Shit!"
"Jack, what! Tell me, who?" He didn't react to her paw on his shoulder.
'They're already after Wilde—federal arrest warrant! Count of tax fraud...and one of trafficking in a controlled substance. They want him brought in immediately. Skye's busy she can wait. You—were you at Nick's place recently?"
She could only mutely nod.
"Is there any evidence of your presence there?" Jack stared accusingly at her, his nose twitching continually.
"Everywhere...I stayed the night." Her own nose started to emulate his.
"I remember his place is three stops away on this line—and we're the only available maid service. We'd better run for it!"
Notes
I borrowed a fox 'Getting' from sarsis's superb Guardian Blue stories.
Kits, find the 48-word sentence in this chapter, a real run-on by my standards.
For some reason, this chapter took far more edit—rewrite cycles (10) than any of the previous ones before I was happy with it. Please let me know if it was worth the effort!
Our next exciting installment will be— Chapter Twelve: Fox on the Run!