A.N. Like the last chapter, I tried to keep the wait for this one down to three weeks; only missed it by one day! No guarantees for the next, although I'll try hard to keep it to less than my usual three months. In the last two months, I wrote 32,000 words for this story-nearly lightspeed by my standards. I wonder why I had the time... Stay safe all.
Thanks to: J Shute, Medic 27, pampuru, and seakard for their reviews, and to all who left a follow or fave, or just took the time to try out my tale! And to the Walt Disney Corporation for giving us this world to enjoy and expand on.
Tinbuzzard11
Chapter Twenty-two:
Predispositions
6:45 A.M. Thursday, April 27th in the Hopps warren dining hall.
Jack Savage pressed the 'send' button on his cheap MigrateMobile burner phone. Technology was amazing—in that his slight movement of a tiny plastic rectangle could ruin the day for a hulking mammal thirty times his size some two hundred miles away. Chief Bogo would not be happy to find that the family of a powerful business acquaintance had most likely been involved with the historical fresh meat trade—however reasonable that might appear in hindsight given the Proteo companies signature products.
He felt somewhat guiltier for also upsetting Vivian's day with his previous text. He'd tasked the likable and tolerant vixen to push up her meeting with Derreck Growley and convince the defensive snow leopard to provide likely self-incriminating logistical assistance—after they'd just learned his hidden secret. Hopefully she would be a skilled enough negotiator to succeed without having to reveal that they knew that. Jack had also warned Vivian that he didn't know how Growley would react if she had to.
Yesterday it was my burden—today, like it or not, the rest of you get to share the load!
Shocked, he'd needed time to think after the revelation by the Grey family's matriarch. An immediate text to the lead of the newly arrived field team had bought that—with the excuse that he was pursuing a good lead and would postpone meeting them until tomorrow. Which was now—he'd have to come up with something plausible to tell them very soon.
The previous day's upset and haste has also made him overlook some better news until later that evening. Nick Wilde had sent off a package of Dr. Ulric's papers and specimens to him—along with a cellphone he'd snatched from a sheep conspirator in Junction City. The fox's coded text had said that it might arrive today.
Which would be another long busy one as the active dining hall around him suggested. Judy had decided to take her turn at kitchen duty, and would bring their breakfasts over when her shift ended at seven. Jack leaned back and looked up at the wide bellmouth ceiling above the third level as it flared down and out from the presently still five-bladed exhaust fan and octagonal tower that ventilated the whole warren. He smiled, remembering the explanation that the original eight bladed one had set up a powerful thrumming resonance in the tower at certain speeds.
That had been the most fascinating part of his tour last week. There were six members of the Hopps family whose sole responsibility was warren climate control. The intricate system had been mostly passive at first, with a windmill on top of the tower and heat from the kitchens—and hundreds of bunnies—as the only sources of power. It had kept the warren with its insulating earthen cover reasonably comfortable in the days before electricity.
Although complex to manage with the warren's now one hundred and fifty plus rooms, the basic scheme was simple in principle and elegant in its utilization of available resources. On cold days, most outside openings were closed off to conserve the warmth of the residents and the central dining hall with its opposed kitchens. Their stoves and ovens, always operating some six to eight hours a day, vented through multiple standpipes that radiated their heat to the upper floors on their way outside. A newer alternate-heating scheme for the coldest days had the kitchen exhaust switched to vent through radiator pipes up the inside corners of the mostly closed off central tower. The reversed exhaust fan would then push the warm air back down into the dining hall, out through the first floor corridors, up and back through the second, and finally out the first set of standpipes opened to the third floor.
The system really shone on those hot days with marginal winds to aid the airflow. The dark solar heated sides of the opened tower, plus the kitchen exhaust up its radiator pipes would set up thermal convection. The millstone sized electric fan could increase the flow volume if needed. That pulled air in through ground level hooded intakes, and over the top of the basement water cistern with its series of wet cloth guide vanes. The evaporatively cooled air would then circulate through the floors—the first two being mostly closed off to the dining hall—and in through the third to exhaust up the tower. The cistern also provided paw pumped water for sanitation and fire fighting—now augmented by electric ones.
The kitchen part of the system even looked cool, with its exhaust hoods, plethora of wide branched ducts, and slide valves with brass levers and pulls. Jack felt it could serve as a prop for the malefactor's bizarre pipe organ in a horror movie—or a ship's engine room. This large warren-ship's crew even had guidelines posted about for everything from fire drills, to schedules for when they could open windows or air inside rooms. Visitors like him were told to always leave the various hallway interconnect doors as they found them. Jack found the regimentation somewhat off-putting until he realized the alternative was chaos.
"Jeremy!" That was Judy intercepting her cousin to help with the armful of bowls she brought out from the kitchen. He took two, and they walked over together to distribute everything on the table before they both sat. Breakfast was oatmeal and a rather nice looking side fruit bowl considering its warren mass production origins. Jeremy looked pleased with himself as he pulled out a folded map.
"I had enough information to…" The brown-furred buck stopped at a severe look from Judy. She pointedly started to eat, and they followed suit. Once they were done refueling, she stacked their bowls and set them aside—Jeremy was finally able to unfold his map.
"I'm almost certain I know where Mr. G's ancestors set up their…farm, I assume around 1850," he said earnestly as he watched for listeners. "You'll like this I'm sure," he pointed, "right here under Pine Flat Reservoir on the Monarch river!"
One of the Mammoth range's larger dams and hydroelectric powerplants—Bunnyburrow probably got a lot of their electricity from there. If true, this would make any of their needed misdirections much easier. "Alright cousin Jeremy," Jack said, "convince me!"
"Ok. Now gold rush country stretches along the Mammoth foothills for two hundred miles—roughly from Oakhurst here north all the way up to the Feathered Crest River. There's hundreds of mines and placer deposits throughout that area. There's a smaller region further south here from Silver King along this river." Jeremy kept his voice down but couldn't keep the excitement from it. "Between them there's this fifty mile gap where little gold was found—it was disregarded after some early prospecting—centered on Pine flats!"
Judy's cousin's been stuck here on the farm with a relatively useless history degree by his own admission. Now he's suddenly needed by our covert investigation into a major historical cover-up. We've gained a knowledgeable ally—while he's making the best of a fantasy come true! Made the right call to brief him about Fairfield and the primitive Coypu!
"That area was originally meadows and wetlands with a long established population of native beaver among others. Lakes, ponds, perfect home for those feral Coypu! Like those foreign mammals that left home for the rush, many of those beavers would've happily sold out for a stake in the goldfields up north. They're natural prospectors—especially for placer operations—I'm sure some got hired by less capable mammals to work their claims."
"If it really was the Growley family that moved in there, I assume they were part of that…immigration?" Judy said cautiously. "Could it have been any other large felids?"
"Doubt it Judy," Jeremy said, "snow leopards are the only ones that often have all white fur—spots notwithstanding. The other species can have lighter but not white winter fur, or really rare leukistic individuals. Didn't find any contemporary accounts about those."
"And the Growley's have always promoted their exceptional appearances even by their own species standards," Jack added, "news stories about them usually mention that. Snow leopards are actually somewhat smaller than most cougars, but to foxes like the Grey's they'd still be highly unusual 'tall white cats'."
"That's still not enough to legitimately cast blame on them," Judy countered, "It's only circumstantial evidence at this point."
"Of course!" Jack said, then lowered his voice again. "Nothing we would dream of using. The last thing we need right now is to implicate the Growley's and do the conspiracy's work for them. I'd just like to confirm that's where the evidence is so we can keep them away from it." He glanced at Jeremy and tapped the map. "How certain of this are you?"
"Very Mr. Savage. Upstream of Pine Flat is nearly impassable terrain to anyone this side of a mountain goat! Very steep narrow canyons, fast water, little road or trail access even today! The site itself is just high enough in the foothills to make for uncomfortable grazing so there's little attraction for the common valley residents. Just below the site, the Monarch flattens out and is the southernmost river that connects up towards Pacifica bay. That gives them fairly easy waterborne transport all up and down gold country. Tributary rivers then get them back closer to the hills and they can portage the rest of the way into the camps."
"Where was last year's feral Coypu find relative to Pine Flat? The Press Telegram article was somewhat vague, but had it between Deerbrooke and Clear Lake," Jack asked.
"Right; here's Clear Lake; this crescent shaped one. It's behind a dam on the north fork of the Mammoth River about twenty miles outside of Deerbrooke. About the same from Pine Flat." Jeremy moved his finger. "I think the newspaper got it wrong Mr. Savage, the river below the dam is pretty accessible and popular—some of us have been there. Above the lake is the part of Willow Creek where a few folks still pan for gold—that's where your Coypu had to wash down!"
"Still close enough for a feral population to be related to the Pine Flat farm," Jack mused. "Do you think that upstream area is remote enough for them to be overlooked until now? Unless the population just remained too low to be easily noticed."
"They're similar enough to beaver to have maybe shared those areas with them—they'd be the ones we should ask about possible earlier sightings," Judy said.
"If you had that idea, someone in our opposition will realize it too if they haven't already," Jack stated his concern. "They'll be over there soon enough to search the area for surviving animals—I'll have to support them! So, do we need to worry about the conspiracy uncovering local records or hearing stories about ferals in addition to their own search?"
"I've never heard of anything like that Mr. Savage," Jeremy said thoughtfully, "and it is isolated, but keep in mind we're not locals over there. Any archived historical accounts or land records would be more recent; there's very few from gold rush times, just those kept by the assay and shipping offices in Pacifica. Most claims went unrecorded at first, just hidden or defended. There was no government or any civil authority at all; it really was the Wild West—I guess in both senses of the term—this whole region wasn't even a territory yet!"
"We learned about the controversies over building some of those dams in school," Judy said to a smile from her cousin. "There have to be records of that available. If the Growley's still controlled Pine Flat, it might explain how they started or at least grew their fortune."
"Right Jude, I'll look into…that…" Jeremy's eyes grew wide. "Dams…flood control…irrigation…Lake Tulare! That's it!" He reached out and grabbed both of them; nose twitching. "The predator influx was very rapid, but it certainly would have taken at least a year or more to get the ocean fishing trade or your Coypu farm's production up to supply them all. They needed a lot of food immediately, so they developed every possible source of it they could find. This valley's feral rodent supply was one, but it was always limited in scale, so it lost out to larger, more efficient operations that set up elsewhere."
Jeremy's paw slapped the map in the middle of the valley southwest of Deerbrooke. "Right here, before the dams cut off the inflow and dried it up almost a century ago, there was a huge freshwater lake—with plenty of fish! That could be caught, kept alive in tubs or troughs and barged up to the goldfields. There were already riverboats at the time."
"Thanks Jeremy, that takes care of a couple of questions I had. Sorry, but I'm going to make your day as busy as ours—a lot to do and we all need to get started." Jack glanced from him over to Judy, then back. "First, dig up any documentary evidence you can that ties the Growley's to Pine Flat Reservoir—so we know for sure. Second, try to confirm that there were fish shipments from that lake to the goldfields, and see if the Growley's might have been involved with that too. This would provide an alibi for them if the conspiracy learns of their presence here and tries to connect them to the Coypu farm. Last, any information about local rumors or evidence of feral animals above Deerbrooke, however tenuous or unfounded, could help us—even as bait to mislead those investigators."
"You got it Mr. Savage!" Jeremy enthused, a smile splitting the darker brown patch over his muzzle. "And I wouldn't worry about your shady agents finding evidence of that old meat farm. Before they were dammed, those rivers regularly flooded in the spring—sometimes catastrophically—those would've dug out and scattered any remnants of it. And now, whatever might be left behind Pine Flat dam is under three hundred feet of water!"
"About those shady ZBI agents Jeremy. I'm assigned to direct their coming search, so I'll be giving that team a briefing this morning with results from my week of…well…inquiry around this area. They'll want to know the sources of the information I choose to disclose, so they can do follow-up…interviews. Would you allow me to reveal you as one?"
"Mom included me in her group for the obvious reason Mr. Savage, and I realized what getting involved might mean. I know what to keep hidden, anything about the Growley's and where that Coypu came from." Jeremy's finger drew them back to his map. "Here, lets all say that it came down this main fork of the Mammoth—unlikely, but fits in better with the newspaper article!"
"Good, We'll do that," Jack agreed, then placed his paw over Jeremy's on the map. He needed to ground the eager buck with the reality of his new role. "You also need to be circumspect with your research; don't leave a trail, delete and overwrite histories and downloads. If you are interviewed, don't tell them about or let them see hardcopies of anything, or the computers you used without a search warrant! Be helpful, but base that on your recollections, opinions and public domain information! If they press you, you have the right to ask if you are being charged with anything, and to request that a lawyer be present."
"Do you think it would really come to that?" Jeremy's ears lowered and his expression was now thankfully serious enough to mitigate Jack's earlier concerns about including him.
"Good chance; they badly need what we now know, and those agents are trained to recognize and coax that sort of information from mammals. Now, I'd like to know as soon as you find anything!" Jack took a sheet from his notepad to write out reminders, a few new code numbers and their meanings for him. "Text these to me at this number from this phone for security—nothing more. For now I just need to know if you find any evidence, and if it's weak, moderate, or strong. Details can come later!" Judy's cousin scampered away, his assignment in paw, while they left their bowls behind for the younger Hopps on table duty.
"You take my burner Judy and leave yours here, I don't want to carry anything unusual—just in case. I honestly won't know many of those we'll meet up with, or if they've learned enough about us that I'm walking into a set up! If they contrive to talk to us separately, be on guard, that means they're suspicious. Say my phone is for informants or something."
"We don't know how compromised we are and the rules may no longer apply to us," Judy said in quiet confirmation. "Should I try to be seen there if there's someone I know?"
"Couldn't hurt. At least our working group here knows where and why we're going and can cause a stink if we don't check in later." He led the way outside to his rented four-wheel drive—unless Bunnyburrow could muster rush hour traffic, they should easily make their nine A.M. orientation meeting with Tarija's team. He was heartened when several Hopps came out front to wave them on their way.
"Jack?" Judy said a few minutes down the road. "I've thought a lot about what we've all recently learned about…our history. The idea of some feral rodents being alive today doesn't seem that strange to many mammals. There's always been stories, reports of remote sightings, and now for me a…shameful history for those that lived right here that I never suspected—our field of retribution.
"Maybe that's something you could safely report to the conspiracy since it might not be very useful to them. I mean, what happened there was a century and a half ago with no hard evidence! I know it's not fair to discount small mammals, but so many of us do." The gray doe next to him sounded contrite. "I don't think small feral rodents alone will be enough to ignite the vengeance against predators that our perpetrators want."
"I think you're right Judy, that's why their interest is focused on the coypu—they're our size; more relateable for a wider variety of species. At least the ones that matter politically," he said cynically. "And they've covered up Fairfield because it implicates prey! That applies here with your bovid predecessors—they were the ones who originally wanted to clear their fields of…vermin. Predator hirelings like your Grey's were secondary. If we report our findings here properly, we could render them irrelevant and keep those foxes out of this."
"I'd like that, we do owe them for the clue about the Growley's! That might even make Aunt Tyne's gossip fall on deaf ears when she slips our family's restraints. I know she will eventually." Judy changed the subject once they approached downtown and narrated their way through the area so that he could at least sound like he'd done some of his prep work.
Just like cramming with a friend in the last minutes before your final book report Savage! My report today is on, 'Lying for your life in front of the inquisition'.
The Berryessa Hotel soon came into view; its six stories dominated the town to its east, helped by the added height of the lower two levels—the only big mammal lodgings in the entire area. He pulled into their front lot and slotted his Land Commander in next to three larger off-road vehicles that bore the logos of a Zootopian outfitter.
"Judy, there's a topographic map in the box, could you grab it?" They exited and walked towards the hotel entrance, as Judy held her arm out slightly and glanced over.
"Want to show some progress with your assignment?" she whispered.
He took her paw as they entered the lobby; it was a good idea since it would distance her from Nick as well. He released it again before they got to the front desk—as a suited brown furred hare that fit the description of Vivian's stalker approached them.
"Good morning Miss Hopps, agent Savage—I'm deputy agent Leland. You're still early, but we're ready to start in the conference room as soon as you are!" He gave their casual attire a quick once-over and led the way.
"Honey works better than vinegar," Judy said conversationally, "strangers are always a little suspect out here in the hinterlands, but obvious authority figures just encourage most folks here to clam up!"
"Better mention that to the rest, our chief expects a professional appearance—I'm Ervin, Miss Hopps." He opened the door to a smaller room next to the hotel's Mulberry event hall.
Polite, disarming, fellow lagomorph; they want to be welcoming for Judy and keep me off my guard. This Ervin seems to be recovered from whatever Vivian subjected him to, and Hartley's here watching the doors and trying to ignore me. Eight altogether including those two—we're right, the conspiracy is thin on ground troops and probably can't spare any more from Concordia due to Skye's intervention. Chief Tarija needs to retain enough back in Zootopia to keep pressure on the ZPD and search for Wilde. Waiting to learn more before we expose them may not be the right strategy—it just gives them time to grow and consolidate—we need to set them problems, spread them thin, force errors!
Tarija's absence was a fleeting relief until he spotted the speakerphone set placed in the middle of the conference table. One of the two mountain goats in the group leaned over to enable it, and a deer buck with a substantial rack of antlers made introductions.
"Thank you, Mr. Felton," Chief Tarija's voice confirmed her virtual presence. "Officer Hopps, agent Savage, it seems that you have thankfully found information that might reveal and enable…rescue of the exploited ferals we seek. I wish to move on that without delay; we have eagerly awaited your initial report and suggested courses of action."
My text yesterday was forwarded straight to her; she's definitely feeling the pressure to get ahead of events—waiting on me and watching her language around Judy. She needs good news, so for now she's acting like we are above suspicion. Asked for my update first of course—so I'm being given some rope.
"Chief, agents, the past and present existence of feral, less-evolved mammals in this region is certain; it's generally accepted by many of the locals we have interviewed."
That drew their attention, they obviously hadn't expected him to find that their secret weapon against predators was common knowledge. Now he could disappoint them.
"These ferals are those remnant populations of small rodents that merely confirm the many stories, anecdotes, and speculative nature shows we're all familiar with. None seem to have been found in the Tri-Burrows area for a century and a half. From what I've ascertained from local family lore and regional history, they were…eradicated by the original bovid inhabitants of this valley to protect their grazing fields. They may have hired native and immigrant predators to help, but all those mammals moved on generations ago when this valley was ceded to those here today."
"This is of course known to the agency Savage," Tarija said with a distinct edge to her voice. "Ms. Hopps, my following comments must remain confidential. We find it necessary to influence or even suppress these types of reports, shows, and provocative scientific papers. We have sequestered many collected specimens, and severely limit research access to them. Any of this evidence made public must be kept down to a level of unfounded speculation and fabrication that won't cause extreme embarrassment and shame for several small species! We use these covert and sometimes apparently unethical means to prevent far greater damage to our society!" She paused for a few seconds and resumed more calmly.
"This can all be discounted for now. What cannot be is the present discovery of a living feral species that is most certainly being used as a predatory food source. These animals are crucial evidence needed to expose and bring the true carnivores among us to justice! Are we any closer to actually finding them agent Savage?"
Mr. Felton moved Tarija a little to one side to allow Jack to unfold his map. "Chief, we're now looking at the Coarsegold quadrangle topographic map. It covers the area northeast of Deerbrooke where the coypu remains were found." He waited, grateful that Pine Flat appeared to be just beyond its southern edge.
"I have it on my monitor; proceed Savage."
The Press Telegram said they were found between Clear Lake, here, and Deerbrooke. That would mean along this recreational stretch of the North Fork, which is below the dam for the lake. Then along this lower part of the Mammoth after they join—again, heavily utilized." It is very unlikely any feral coypu could live anywhere along there without being noticed, or wash down past the lake and dam from higher."
"So you assume it came down the main course of the Mammoth River? Have you even determined where it was found?" Tarija couldn't avoid a little 'mwaa' of annoyance.
"It could be anywhere along there, even as far down as Meadow Lakes. Article didn't say. It also didn't name who found the remains, and nobody at the newspaper or Deerbrooke police seems to have recorded it! According to the editor, it was likely a long gone visitor—said the name would only be of interest to his readers if it were another local."
"I wish you hadn't wasted time on inconsequentials in Bunnyburrow Savage! You should have concentrated on tracing the feral coypu," Tarija spat out.
"Chief, given the lack of local information, and for now even evidence to act on, it seemed prudent to develop local contacts and learn some background!" Jack said back emphatically to the speakerphone. "Coypu are foreign, feral ones would've been brought in by someone—for the obvious reason. Assuming it was a feral! The local medical examiners only noted discrepancies, they didn't reach a firm conclusion in their report and I haven't interviewed them yet, since I felt someone with medical knowledge should do that."
"I'm just frustrated Savage. Your points are of course valid," Tarija admitted sullenly. "We need the remains, or living animals to answer them. It's as if the local authorities wanted this to go away."
"Unexplained deaths don't help tourism; there's a lot of recreational activity there," Judy said. "And one unidentifiable coypu isn't enough to build up an attractive local legend. I'd suggest asking around in any backwoods beaver and muskrat communities; they're similar, so any sightings or stories are likely to be found there."
"That's what we'll have to do," Tarija conceded, "basic mammalian intelligence. I'd still like to initiate a search of the relevant area if you can pin it down for us Savage."
"Given regional history, they would have been brought in a hundred and fifty years ago, enough time for occasional escapees to have come from, spread around to, and established colonies just about anywhere within a thousand square miles! There's lots of suitable streams and ponds for them in the Mammoths!" A received text blip came from his phone in Judy's pocket. Two others noticed it along with him and slightly turned their heads.
Judy fished it out to look while he ploughed ahead to deflect their interest and cover his own. "I'd suggest working up from the confluence of the Mammoth with the North Fork to around twelve hundred meters elevation; you won't find coypu any higher. It's very rugged terrain; we'd need helicopter transport to survey and explore those smaller impoundments and marshes that lack trail access, but drain to the river. Those remote places where they'd most likely remain undiscovered. Then work north from there further into gold country."
"I was afraid you'd say something like that Savage. Our mission needs to remain covert until we've secured solid evidence, so work with the team on viable search options as soon as they've finished their Deerbrooke interviews. Now officer Hopps, if you could leave us for a few minutes, I need to discuss a different and confidential matter with my ZBI team."
"Yes…sure…of course," said a distracted Judy. She got up and turned slowly towards the doors, reading her phone screen. She started, then turned her head back. "Sorry about the interruption…I kinda expected this. My friend finally cutter engagement—it's been rocky since they met—too flirty for her own good." She left while staring at the screen again; she appeared like she might have walked into the door if not held open for her by Hartley.
Damn! That was an impromptu coded message and act worthy of 'The Operative'! Nick was right to warn me not to underestimate her. So Nick met with Kristen and just checked in. Is there a double meaning in there? Something about…no, Judy didn't have time to construct that kind of subtlety.
"Savage? Is officer Hopps focused on what's important here?"
"Yes Chief; she heard you and is already gone, her explanation was about a text. I've learned in my week here that family stuff is really important for these rural bunnies, so it's necessary to be…supportive."
"I don't want domestic distractions! Leland, go after Hopps and remind her of that. You may also discuss the PSA we want from her and let her see the script. Mr. Felton, let me know when we're secure again."
Agent Hartley firmly closed the door behind the exiting hare and Felton said, "Go chief."
"I know you're…emotionally…encouraging her cooperation Savage, but let's not lose sight of our goals please!" chief Tarija actually sounded a bit uncomfortable about her own stratagem. "I do however, have good news regarding both of your meddling ex-partners. Mr. Wilde is now in our custody and has been convinced to reveal his corrupt linkage with your once useful Ms. Winter. It appears that an early administrative contact between them slowly blossomed until they finally were…"
"Agent Winter's endorsement of Wilde's academy application," Jack said laconically after he'd relaxed his way through the chief's provocation—thanks to Judy's allusion.
"Yes…just so. How were you made aware of that?" Tarija's voice showed the surprise he'd hoped for.
"She told me privately before we met with Wilde at the ZPD. Our standard notification of any prior contacts with an interviewee." There was silence after he'd finished.
"Scrupulously following the rules to avoid suspicion, just like Wilde," Tarija finally said with satisfaction. "They never realize that merely attracts attention to them—good for us as their arrests plug our most dangerous potential leaks. These two that placed their own noxious species ahead of their oaths to serve the rest of society will be found publicly and legally accountable for their subversions at a…more propitious time".
Jack slowly smiled for the others around the table as she spoke—at least one would understand his pleasure at having been freed from his long-time nemesis—and he relished the failure of Tarija's lie to impugn his loyalty. The llama hadn't mentioned either Kristen or Dr. Ulric—that was some confirmation of Judy's hint that they remained free with Nick. She'd also ignored Skye's intercept of the professor—which suggested the conspiracy still felt the need to remain concealed within the agency.
She could still be free! Her arrest might be another lie like about Nick's! Want to see that text, please don't erase it Judy. Well then, ask Tarija about him, that llama has a tendency to pontificate and might accidentally drop something useful about what they suspect.
"Chief, how'd you run down Wilde? I'd expected a more successful evasion out of him."
Jack hadn't heard a llama laugh before; it was…different. "We can't deny that Winter is a skilled vixen. She'd wrapped Wilde around her finger to likely entertain herself with him, possibly abet her own agenda, or even have him take the fall for it! He was spotted on his way to Concordia in an attempt to meet up with her. We followed him for a couple of days unable to discover details about their rendezvous, so picked them up separately."
She still doesn't have a clue about either of our real relationships, or that Wilde discovered the prison! No mention about Fairfield either, and Judy reinforced our apparent ignorance of that as well. It should be safe to feed Tarija's specieism a little and bolster my position among them.
"I'd noticed Wilde trying to disguise his interest in her; Winter and I even discussed that, but I was completely unaware of her reciprocation! As for Hopps, she was busy maintaining her ideals and seemed oblivious to the two of them; she's…quite inexperienced with the subtleties of relationships." He allowed himself a smile to showcase the bunny's naiveté.
"To be expected Savage. Now what have you discovered about the disposition of the coypu remains—beyond our confirmation that they were sent to Zootopia? We initially suspected the natural history museum had them based on a verbal contact, but neither Winter or my agent found computer or hardcopy records of that. We also contacted all three of the ZPD's forensic labs, none had received anything of the sort."
"And the resident researchers made no mention to me of unusual recent specimens other than the mara fossil we returned to the National museum," Jack said, "they were eager to talk about the issues posed by that one, I would have expected them to bring up anything else they had. The Deerbrooke remains are supposedly those of a recently alive primitive mammal—a substantial one—that would be a major scientific find. That no word of this has yet appeared says to me that neither the museum, nor any university lab has them. They couldn't resist announcing such a major discovery—even with preliminary results."
"It's still possible the local authorities deflected and covered this up," Felton said, "two possibility's suggest themselves. It's a one-time find and they didn't want to attract adverse publicity due to an apparently unsolvable case—or, this has happened before, and is locally covered up as a shameful reminder of the past. Except this time it attracted press interest."
The speakerphone emitted another 'mwaa' from Tarija. "We need actionable information now, so I want you to transfer all your operations over to Deerbrooke to expedite that! Mr. Felton, agent Hartley, interview the paper's writer, their editor, responding police officers, and the medical examiner. Do so…thoroughly and find out where those remains went!
"Savage, find some sites where we can get hooves on the ground quickly even if they aren't optimal at first. We might get lucky! We are not able to provide agency aerial support at this time, so check the cost and availability of local assets and forward them to me. The rest of you procure a storage facility for secure operations, then…maybe…pose as mystery or occult enthusiasts and canvass the community for any more leads or rumors. I will want an update by eight tonight!" A sharp click from the speakerphone effectively ended the meeting.
That's the best you could've hoped for Jack! This end of the conspiracy's under pressure, understaffed, with little back up! Whoever's directing this from Concordia's gone all-in on the feral coypu rationale. Soren, then Fairfield, and now Deerbrooke have spooked them into making Bellwether's mistake! At least Bunnyburrow and the Greys are off the hook for now.
Jack stayed within the group of larger mammals as they headed for the lobby. He needed to show them that he was not intimidated by size, or the partially masked resentment a few had displayed over his dominant role in their meeting. After all, he was the unwelcome interloper assigned from the federal office, and Judy wasn't even ZBI. She and Leland were near the front entrance as they all came in and crossed over to join their gaggle at the front desk. She lagged behind and stopped a couple of steps back with a resigned face.
"Could you book Hopps and I starting tomorrow night? We still need to meet a contact here," Jack asked, then turned away to collect Judy and leave.
"Certainly agent Savage, but wait for me I'm going with you!" Leland said brightly. That explained Judy's expression and a subtle glance from Mr. Felton showed this was planned. Jack nodded to his new shadow and walked outside with Judy.
"You drive; pull in front so we look accommodating." Jack swapped his keys for the phone and climbed in back while Judy made some minor seat adjustments, then started up.
"It's from Nick," she confirmed, "he's with Kristen and they just sent Dr. Ulric off to Zootopia—he'll be met there—that's as far as I got before that hare came and got nosy!"
"Alright, I see that…" Jack dug his code card out of his wallet—this message was a lot longer and less polished than Nick's previous one and needed careful interpretation. "Skye sent him a letter! From yesterday! She told him he might be compromised…and to change location…gave her key and…Skye sent me one too! Two day express to here. Okay…and Kristen also says they were both thoroughly compromised and need to move ASAP."
"Gave Nick her key Jack? Skye's already been exposed! Are you sure that's a smart thing for him to use?"
"It's ok Judy, we have a joint post office drop box for emergencies; Nick's indicated he got the right key. I need to tell him where it is—its got cash and…access to a place they might be safe for at least a few days. If Skye sent this to him, it means she's worried about imminent capture and interrogation! She knows where he's staying!"
"Why is Kristen in trouble and with Nick? I thought they were keeping their distance." Judy stopped under the hotel's entrance canopy and alternately looked inside, then at him.
"Hold on…here, she found a news story about those sheep Nick fought…online feed. I need to look this up!" Jack switched to his smartphone and started to tap his foot against the floorboard.
"Jack! I see Leland in the lobby with his bags!"
"C'mon!" His foot's cadence increased. "Alright…oh shit, one's dead! Not an accident! I need to contact Nick right now; distract Leland Judy!" Jack tucked the flip phone behind him and waved the approaching hare to the rear door as he leaned to unlatch it.
"Just leave those here and sit up front so Hopps can give you the grand tour on the way back. I'm looking up transport options while I still have a connection." To Jack's relief, Leland merely nodded and complied—from the ensuing conversation, he'd been tasked not only with recruiting Judy for public relations, but convincing her to return to Zootopia to professionally record the messages on camera. To her credit, Nick's microphone-phobic mate remained receptive and even asked Leland to read a couple of the scripts to her.
So they know Wilde was in Junction City—but only by the train station! And Kristen recognized her vulnerability when she saw the news. Good on you secret skunk! Look up Arbiter Shaw Garwood—and realignment? And no further word about Skye, dammit!
Jack awkwardly hid his burner behind his smartphone in case Leland looked back, texted out the location of their P.O. box, told Nick what to take, and gave directions to his house. He thought for a moment, then added the 'don't reply' code. He actually held his breath until the phone displayed 'message sent'.
His next had his home security passcode, where his car and its spare keys were, and an abbreviated description of Skye's discreet path to and from the house. He held his breath again because it worked the first time.
Jack started to relax a bit before he remembered to hurriedly text Cousin Jeremy a warning as well—to not send him anything as they were on their way back—and to prepare for a visit from the opposition in the form of a disingenuous fellow ZBI hare.
That was the critical stuff he'd needed to get out right now—anything further could wait until he was alone in the warren with its wi-fi. Then Bogo and Vivian could get addenda to his earlier messages as well. As for Judy's potential trip back, he wanted to take advantage of that. She could update one chief face to face, and finally meet and get a read on the other. It would also be an immense help to Vivian if they could arrange to meet Growley together.
Jack waited for the right pause in the conversation up front and managed to catch Judy's eyes in the rear view mirror. "I approve! Doing those spots would be very helpful to us."
Now for the air charter, he needed actual costs before he could disillusion Leland and fill in Judy on their plans. It took him a good ten minutes to find what he needed—there were several local agricultural application services and only one multipurpose helicopter operator.
Jack let out a long descending whistle. "Boss lady isn't going to like this!" He waited for Leland to lean and look back at him from between the front seats. "For a six seat turbine helo large enough for most of us, its anywhere from eighteen hundred to twenty-seven hundred bucks an hour! That's for general charter—things like inter airport or sightseeing flights. If you want close terrain following or remote logistical support; triple that."
"I don't think she'll approve executive transport," Leland said, "find something smaller and cheaper; we'll do teams of two, we really don't want to attract attention to our search!"
"No choice, we need something with the power to handle mountain winds and do a full load hover at over a thousand meters elevation. Besides, someone like Mr. Felton won't fit in anything smaller. There's also the problem of finding rentals with a non-pred pilot having proper clearance for this job, and the agency hasn't yet seen fit to get me my own license."
Leland's face registered his informational overkill. "So we'll have to hike in and out to each spot until we find something?" he said unenthusiastically.
"The word you're looking for is mountaineering, not hike," Jack said severely, "This area is famously rugged like the Giant Forest Wilderness Park just to the south. You'll pack everything in for several days to and between sites, with rough bivouacs, not regular camping overnight. No air support means no resupply and that you'll have to get anything you find back out under your own power—assuming no accidents and that one of you is enough of a wilderness guide to not get you all lost up there."
Jack restrained his smirk of triumph over his crushing of Leland's enthusiasm for the cause. That might even restrain his snooping around once they arrived at the warren. Things were looking up today, what the conspiracy wanted as a result of the Deerbrooke find seemed unobtainable without a far more concerted effort. An operation that needed assets beyond their present control which would draw too much attention—unlike boring freight shipments to a remote sheep town set up and administratively covered long ago.
Now I need to induce Leland to stay here through tomorrow and possibly the following night. I want to see Wilde's package and Skye's letter before I'm exiled to Deerbrooke in case there's something in them that I have to send on to Zootopia with Judy.
"Agent Leland, we should follow-up all the leads we have since this feral coypu chase certainly won't show results in any reasonable amount of time. We need to have something and we have…uncovered evidence the feral rodents in this valley were used as a managed and supplied live food source!"
"I don't think that will be enough for Chief Tarija, she wants those coypu found!"
"I know eager deputy, but she won't get it without broader military or agency support that we can't justify yet! Doing this kind of search right would involve a hundred or more well equipped, not a half dozen who aren't. It's like this…someone's hiding out in a fifty-story building and our little team has two hours to find and secure him. And as it happens, the elevators are all out of service," Jack said in his best tone of frustrated sarcasm.
"I got it the first time Savage! You'd find it easier to work with us if you tried to pursue our goals as avidly as yours!" Leland couldn't hide his brief but discernible glance at Judy.
And a touch of condescension easily reveals your own hopeless desire. No wonder Vivian had so much fun with you. I'll get no thanks for saving you from this little gray wolverine in disguise. Her mate would be even less tolerant of you bothering his ladies!
"Just supplying some needed doses of reality so we don't squander our limited resources. We need to stay smart and not repeat the past failures of coordination that set us so far back; that's why I'm here. Besides, a little acceptance from your bunch that I'm an ally and not a rival might make my suggestions more palatable. Goes for Hopps too."
"So what did you find here?" Leland asked evenly to concede the point.
"We know where the food packing and shipping operation was located," Judy said as Jack hoped she would. "It's in a field several miles north of our warren that's been left untouched for over a century. The pred perpetrators destroyed it all before any of us moved into the area. My cousin has been researching it for us if you want to talk to him about it."
"It would certainly be worth a visit; for thoroughness if nothing else." Leland said as he took the bait.
Judy pulled in to the warren and found a spot to park out front. "We're well in time for lunch, that'll give you a chance to meet some of us first Ervin. Jack, go ahead and take him to the dining hall; I'll see if there's a room's available for him, then go find Jeremy!" She was inside the warren before Leland could take his bags in paw from the back seat.
If? Judy's got something planned; there's two empty guestrooms next to mine. Better give her time to inform our family supporters; I'll simply introduce Leland around and mention he's working with us. That should confuse the issue a bit.
That seemed to be the right course of action Jack thought, as they stood in line to get their plates filled. Although there was the normal interest in gathering around the new visitor, one doe had then casually backed away, whispered to another; those two then made their way to a hallway and took off down it as if their feet were on fire.
One returned more leisurely with Cousin Jackie and Uncle Ellery; they remained distant but watchful. The other—that he now recognized as Emily—came back a couple minutes later with Judy and Jeremy to join them. Bonnie peeked out from the far kitchen.
His text to Judy's cousin had obviously triggered a planned response—he could relax—Leland would be well monitored during his stay. Problematic family members also seemed to be absent for the moment, so he could enjoy eating his lunch and listening to Jeremy's subtle deflections of Leland's questions.
Lunch was finished and his ZBI minder sufficiently misinformed when sounds of an altercation floated down the main hall from the front of the warren.
"It's mine! That's my game it's addressed to me!" That was easily heard and ears turned.
"Since when did you stop using Vinny?" That voice was softer and feminine.
"It's to a Martin, care of Hopps family farms; perhaps you should get one of your parents to sign for this; it's registered." That voice was older and more official—the mailmammal.
The invisible bucket of cold water that drenched him said that was Nick's package of Ulric's evidence being argued over. He'd expected to check for it at the post office in town later today—Nick had obviously expedited this one. Jack listened helplessly; not wanting to draw Leland's interest to it any more than it had been.
"See! From Cutting Edge Gaming! That's gotta be a console and I want it they just misspelled one letter that's my name!"
Dammit Nick! Too clever by half! Judy just figured it out too and doesn't want to react either. None of the other Hopps understands!
"Since when have you gone back to Marvin…Vinny!" said the female again. "He's sixteen, can he even sign for it?"
"Yeah I can, I ordered it! You hafta deliver my stuff to me!"
"With what Vinny? You don't have a job and that looks heavy enough to be expensive."
Jack finally nudged Jeremy's foot with his once Leland's attention seemed away—Judy was opposite from her cousin and couldn't do it unobtrusively. Jeremy turned and silently mouthed the word 'important'. Jack looked at Leland and nodded vigorously, 'yes'.
Jeremy got up at the same time that Bonnie came from the kitchen behind Leland—they saw each other, converged and spoke momentarily. Jack got an affirmative nod and smile as Jeremy came and retook his seat. "Mom wants to handle it," was all he said.
"He probably 'borrowed' someone's credit card again," Judy said wearily, "We'll probably have to send it back and Vinny will have to work off the shipping cost and whatever penalty dad gives him. Won't make a difference, he's really impulsive."
Another impromptu fabrication by one clever rabbit doe—done at the temporary expense of her young relative. She and Jeremy were already directing Leland's attention back to the now irrelevant field of retribution—expertly enough that he'd been asked to stay behind by his fellow hare and work on their search strategy!
Gotta admit I'm feeling a touch sorry for Leland, he's quite the unintentional ally for us so far and will likely have a very short ZBI career whichever side prevails. But only a touch—he did choose the wrong side regardless of how ardent he tries to be. Now I just need to string him out until I get Skye's letter!
Jack walked back towards his room after seeing them off—he had no qualms at all about leaving Leland with Judy and Jeremy as the credulous agent had desired. He'd always felt that pred-prey was determined as much by attitude as it was by species, and every day that passed reinforced the realization that his team was all pred.
"It's in your room Mr. Savage and here's my number if you need anything…to be done quietly," Jackie said after intercepting him in an otherwise empty stretch of corridor. "We'll watch to make sure nobody bothers you."
"Thanks Jackie." She smiled at his ongoing effort to use their names. "Come in please, I do have one thing to ask now." The box on his bed was a little larger than he'd expected—once opened it revealed a case similar to those Dr. Soren had at the museum. There was a taped on note that said 'Open me'. He did and found the promised cellphone in a baggie and a four-page letter written in two distinct pawstyles There were six carefully wrapped smaller packages along with several more printed pages. This would take a while to sort out and Jackie was patiently waiting.
"What about your Aunt Tyne and Uncle Sid? Do we still have a problem with them talking to this ZBI agent we just brought over? His name is Leland."
"We might, Tyne will try to talk to him about what we all discussed, but she won't dare mention that you or Judy are working against or are aware of any conspiracy! We told her that if she accuses our hero of Zootopia or damages her career in any way, we'd make sure she's a social pariah throughout the Burrows!"
"What about Sid, might he talk, or send off anything to Dillon's radio show?"
"If he did, it's just another conspiracy theory, there's a new one every week or two. He won't mention Judy or our family for the same reason; it'd risk his status in the community. As for your Mr. Leland, if he gets too bothersome we can always pull a buck balk on him!"
Jack's quizzical look earned him a very flirty pose from Jackie, a provocative hip rub, and a finger to turn his cheek with a gentle kiss. She grinned devilishly. "When one of us brings by a new buck, and he turns out to be…overly assertive, we can all gang up on him like this, being suggestive, available, competitive over him, but he can never quite get alone with one of us. There's always a timely interruption, an excuse, or a parent or brother around. Frustration to the max! It's very effective at getting the message across, although it does take longer with a few—that's when our bucks…participate. Don't worry, Judy already told us you have a mate back in Concordia." Jackie pouted briefly. "Ciao!"
Thanks a lot Jackie! He didn't doubt that these Hopps does could make such an experience traumatic somehow. Remember, work is supposed to make the time pass, and you'll see Skye's letter that much faster if you stay involved in it. And you will have to remember to warn that poor innocently unaware fox what he's getting himself into with Judy's family.
Jack picked up the paw written letter from Nick—he felt it would be a long afternoon and night for several reasons.
Notes:
To orient the geography fans; the story's Monarch River is California's Kings River, and the Mammoth River is our San Joaquin. Gold country extends north from there along the western slope of the Sierra Nevada range. Clear Lake is Bass Lake, some 25 miles north of Deerbrooke, which I placed a little east of Fresno Ca. All the above is 100 miles east of Bunnyburrow's location in the lower Salinas Valley. Pine Flat dam and hydro station remains the same. There used to be extensive wetlands downriver from there before it was mostly reclaimed in the 1950s.
Lake Tulare was the largest freshwater lake in the continental U.S. west of the Mississippi River. It supported a productive fishing industry in the latter half of the nineteenth century until most inflow was diverted for agriculture. Only remnant marshes remain today.
PSA: Public Service Announcement. ASAP: As Soon As Possible
Leukism: rare genetically recessive pale or white coloration in many species of animals. Not albinism; those afflicted retain normal eye color for ex.
Our next vulpine heavy installment—Chapter Twenty-three: Outfoxed