AN Rejoice loyal readers! You didn't have to wait three months for this chapter. Nor should you for the next, although I expect that it will take somewhat longer than the twenty-four days this one took. But wait, there's more! You also get the second longest one so far in this story. I'm very happy with the way this one flowed, and I'd love to read your opinions of it.
Thanks to my chapter 27 reviewers: Bear678, Blkdragon7, J Shute, Medic27, pampuru, and Wolfx1120
Chapter Twenty eight:
Hare Ascendant
1:02 PM. Sunday, April 30th, with Jack Savage on the road heading west towards Middleburrow.
"Now!" Neither Peyton Dillon's voice, nor AM radio's limited bandwidth, could contain his eagerness.
"A wanted fox fugitive has been seen at the very door of, and is now apparently being harbored by one of this region's most prominent families—the Hopps!" The red fox, as eye-witnessed by our reporting Disciple, is undoubtedly the criminal ex-partner of the Hopps wayward and ambitious daughter, ZPD officer Judy Hopps! Disguising himself unsuccessfully as a vixen, this duplicitous drug dealer's apparently welcomed presence at her family's warren seven miles east of Bunnyburrow, raises serious questions about where their loyalties lie. This could not only destroy their longstanding community reputations, but finally force right-minded society to realize how political correctness and lax morals have now allowed these threats to public safety to spread beyond the big city and their failed policies!"
Jack's confirmed dread was quickly replaced by anger at the rabble-rousing broadcaster's verbose expansion of his big scoop. He slapped off the bloated woodchuck's strident monologue—he'd thoroughly earned his detractor's epithet of 'whistle pig'. Regionally popular, and undoubtedly desiring national syndication, he'd milk this for all he could no matter how many it hurt.
Was it Tyne or Sid that misidentified Vivian's gender? Or was it done deliberately to help them gain some sway within the warren? Still, I'm sure it was one of those two that called in the gift to them scandal. Bet they didn't expect Dillon to immediately link it to Judy—they might already be getting family blowback from that. Their mistake won't matter, Tarija will understand who's really there. Zootopia is three hours away, Pacifica branch is two if she gets them involved.
At least his ex-team up in the hills should be out of reach for several more hours. Chief Tarija had been stretched too thin to send them reinforcements earlier—how soon could that llama react to this and deploy any kind of effective team? What would they do? Nick isn't really here and Vivian hasn't been charged—would they try another warrantless snatch? Would she risk asking the local authorities to act in her stead?
Judy and Bogo were in the most immediate danger. They were all totally compromised now, but those two were accessibly vulnerable in central Zootopia. Jack opened his burner phone—he still had service! He pulled over and stopped in the first reasonable spot off the road he could find to preserve that, then called the ZPD chief directly.
Please recognize my number and pick up! I can't wait for you to read and answer another text.
"What?" came the brusque flat voice he needed to hear.
"It's Martin dad. Dillon's really showed up mom's arrival here just now. I'll take care of her. Better ground Tilly over this until I can see her as well!"
"Understood, I'll make sure she is." Bogo said. "Our benefactor is aware of your recent effort and will tip generously."
"Good, I hope he acknowledges our eastern...surveyor's contribution to fortify that."
"I'm certain he will." Bogo confirmed. "May you find the path that brings us all home," he said more softly before disconnecting.
He's worried—and I'm scared. Yeah, scared. We won't even have a day to plan our Deer Trail incursion—we'll have to go in tomorrow night—right after we fly back. We have to get clear evidence of the Junction City project—certainly by going low enough to be seen by them. How soon would they call that in to their contacts at ZBI headquarters, and will they recognize that Deer Trail might be under threat?
They'd all been preparing for this race to the finish—Dillon's broadcast was just the unexpectedly early starting shot. No margin left—they'd have to go now with what they had. Jack sent a quick heads up text to Vivian, Jeremy, and Jackie, then another to Kristen and Nick so they could prepare to leave his house and find a safer bolthole for tonight. He'd just pulled back onto the road in a spray of gravel and dust when a message came in; he flipped it open one-pawed, it was a reply from Jackie.
We know. Warren in chaos, come to west w.
If they knew, Judy certainly did by now too. One less thing to deal with. Jack sped up some more even though the road had started to wind up into the hills that separated the vast central valley from the smaller one that contained the Burrows. Think positively Savage, he reminded himself, as he began to drift across the centerline on open curves to keep his speed up. You made your needed purchases earlier, you've sent warnings, Tarija still has no idea that Judy will be flying up in Growley's jet, and Bogo has my description of Felton's 4WD. So he could get the highway patrol, or Growley's people, to watch for that as the most likely way they'll move the coypu we caught. It would be great if they could justify seizing it and give Dr. Wilson's clinic a chance at sequencing some new samples to compare to the ones from Fairfield.
Stupid! You know they won't interfere with the ZBI. They'll just follow along to see where they go to hopefully expose more conspirators. Why didn't you just grab some strands of fur from the animal, or even keep the dart when you had the chance! That might have back aspirated enough fresh DNA right there. You can't keep missing opportunities!
And now he had less than thirty-six hours to restore that sporadic competence of his before he'd need it to finally break Skye out of Deer Trail. He could at least run through some scenarios about that in his mind—it would be a productive use of his driving time.
Jack reluctantly abandoned his now self-indulgent heroic rescue fantasy once he approached Middleburrow and spotted two prominent hangars ahead to his left. He wanted to familiarize himself with the airport during daylight so they wouldn't be blundering around in the dark at the last minute, as the only road lighting he could see was a single pole by the airport sign as he slowed to turn in. There was no apparent activity as he got closer, so he slowed some more to check out a couple of likely places where they might be able to park overnight. He didn't stop, and left after a couple of minutes to find that both the train station and the alternate rental lot for his vehicle were not far beyond the airfield towards town. They both had lights of course. He hurried past, not wanting to be seen loitering near them.
He briefly considered his original plan to abandon the SUV at Bunnyburrow's station as he passed by it, then of stopping to see Mr. Grey as he passed the bakery. No, Vivian's security took precedence. She was coming on the mission, they could certainly use her size, and she was reasonably fit for her age.
She was also a motivated predator who would soon have her kit to protect regardless of Nick's feelings about that. That might compensate for some of her lack of law enforcement training.
The remainder of his trip took more time than his elevated anxiety could tolerate. It must have been contagious, since cousin Jeremy was waiting for him and ran alongside as he was waved around to the back of the Hopps new expansion house—not really new, but its ongoing renovations seemed rather extensive. He parked behind the same beige beater that Kristen had originally picked Vivian up in.
Jack got out, then caught sight of their civilian vixen further behind the house just as she started to walk over—she held a bow, had a quiver of arrows slung over her back, and there was a green, somewhat angular felt cap perched between her ears. He managed to rationalize her unexpected appearance before she walked up to him with a steadfast expression that broke into a small anxious smile.
"I continually underestimate your versatility Mrs. Wilde," he said before she frowned, then gently tapped him between the ears with one arm of the bow. "Uh, this will most definitely improve our chances...Vivian." Her smile returned. He must have also appeared rather stressed for her to try and lighten his mood this quickly. She had to be feeling her own as well, so he could only admire her effort.
"Just these two Mr. Savage?" a brown and black buck asked as he looked in the back seat of the SUV.
"Yes, that's it," Jack said. He took one end of his heavier case as his helper flashed him an 'Are you smuggling rocks?' look as he took the rest of the weight. They moved it to Vivian's car. "Everything else way in the back of mine is yours; clean it out. I can't leave this thing here; want to drop it off at the train station so I'll need a lift back from someone."
"I can drop it off," said Jeremy as he held out a paw for Jack's keys. "You two fill each other in while we're gone. Bradley, follow me on down." The two Hopps piled the remaining supplies on the ground.
"Jeremy wait," Vivian said, her eyes widened and brow furrowed "Jack, how big are Judy's tranquilizer darts?" She selected an arrow from her quiver and held it.
"Maybe a little over a centimeter in diameter and seven or eig…" She was frowning again. "A half inch by three?" He assumed them to be similar to Leland's dart, the one he really should have kept.
"Take this." Vivian gave Jeremy the arrow. "See if you can find a hose or something that will push, not slip, over the end of that, we can tape the darts on the end more easily that way, we need to keep them aligned so they'll fly straight. At least eight two inch pieces." Jeremy now looked thoroughly shocked by the implied seriousness and ad hoc nature of their preparations.
"I've already got good tape," Jack said, feeling very useless at the moment. He watched a somber Jeremy climb in, then slowly back the Land Commander around and depart, then turned to find Vivian at the trunk of her car holding a second bow out to him. Her smile had returned, and was rather predatory. He took it, even though it seemed too long for him, and followed after her.
"You should know you're not helping my self-image as a resourceful secret agent." he said morosely.
"Sorry, I'm a fox. It just comes naturally to us," Vivian said in a silky voice. "I'm surprised you seem unaware of that, Skye must be very considerate of your feelings."
"You are definitely Officer Wilde's mother."
"I'm also now your archery instructor since it seems to have become an important capability for us. Do you have any prior experience with this, or has Skye overlooked that as well.".
"She tried to introduce me to it three years ago on a date. I think I disappointed her even though she's not really actively interested either. She just wanted to expose me to another part of fox culture." They stopped about twenty-five meters away from a roll of pink insulation backed by a sawhorse. It was not only distressingly out near the range of Leland's impressive shot up in the mountains, but already had several arrows grouped in and around a smallish circle drawn on the roll's plastic wrap with a marker.
Vivian's challenging, even inciting me—she mentioned Skye twice to motivate, possibly even provoke me? This isn't in my skill set and we have limited time that's needed for other things!
"I really need to know what's happened in the Hopps warren since you arrived and after the broadcast, and how that will affect what we need to do tonight in order to make our rendezvous. Are we even safe here now?" Jack said as seriously as he could.
"We should be," Vivian said fairly confidently. "Bonnie Hopps told me before I left there, that not even all of the locals in Bunnyburrow know that this place is theirs now. Outsiders certainly won't, and they've posted watchers on the roads leading here to call and warn us. I'd explained enough beyond what you and Judy told them to convince her and two others to cooperate. Once some of the rest had heard the radio show, arguments and even a brawl broke out. I left promptly since I'd become a provocation."
"I listened to Dillon's diatribe on my way over. He, or whoever tipped him, reported you as your on-the-run son." Jack selfishly took some retaliatory comfort from the vixen's pout of annoyance. "Chief Tarija has undoubtedly seen right through that, and is likely already trying to confirm both Judy's and Dr. Alder's whereabouts. Is he here with us?" Vivian nodded and tipped her bow towards the house. "I've spoken with Bogo and he'll immediately release to the media all of our Fairfield and Deerbrooke coypu evidence, along with this morning's discovery. Hopefully, they'll also be able to interview Dr. Ulric. It's all out in the open now—may the best conspiracy win." He looked dubiously at the bow in his paw.
"I'll do my best, but I need a back up and you're my only reasonable candidate. I won't have the time or place to coach Nicholas, Judy's too small, and even if we get her out quickly, Skye's got bruised ribs. Now just watch me at first and listen carefully," Vivian said to him firmly. "I have to squeeze a three day beginner course, and as much of a two week intermediate course as I can into the next couple of hours!"
"You really are an instructor?" Jack unfortunately not only let some doubt creep into his voice, but couldn't avoid staring up at her felt cap.
"Tournament tradition!" Vivian barked as she reached to touch it. "I haven't worn this in twenty-seven years, but now that I've resumed drawing a bow, I wished to recognize that I'd met my mate on the range. He was a certified instructor and shot competitively. I am advanced category and qualify for an instructor's cert as well." She then drew an arrow from her quiver, nocked it, and shot it into the circle, then followed it with another in less than ten seconds. Her triumphant smile presaged his coming humiliation at her paws, and the start of her lesson allowed him no time for a reply.
"Can I actually try this now?" Jack asked after her demo lecture had concluded, and he'd been tested for his ability to string—he couldn't—then draw her mate's overlong and stiff bow.
"Alright, start with three fingers below and draw until the top one touches your middle stripe—it's so nice that you come with alignment marks. Support the bow, don't grip it...relax...elbow up!"
The bow jumped out of his paw after he released his first shot—the arrow just struck the top left edge of the roll of insulation and went right through behind it. Vivian's exasperated 'hmm' wasn't encouraging. He stepped forward and picked it back up under her forbearing gaze, then carefully shot two more arrows—both soared high to the left of the roll, but at least he avoided dropping the bow again.
"You're trying too hard. The tighter you grip it the more inconsistent you'll be; let it rest in, then pull back into your paw as you draw. And watch that tilt, you almost let the tip touch the ground again." Vivian handed him another arrow. "Move up a stripe."
"It's hard just holding this! My fingers aren't quite long enough." This time, he got a clean, but off-center hit on the roll. They leaned their bows against a post and went to retrieve the arrows, Vivian plucked the ones in the roll, and left him to find the ones lost in the grass behind—which took some effort.
They both steadily improved over the next two and a quarter hours—he from execrable to tolerable, she from very good to scary good while still coaching him. Vivian finally called a halt when he broke an arrow against the sawhorse—snarling that they now only had twenty-one left.
Jack's feet had started to protest at the prolonged time he'd spent on them, and both his arms were trembling slightly. He knew he wasn't out of shape, but merely adjusting to a novel activity. Vivian took back her mate's bow, unstrung it, and led the way to the house. They found Dr. Alder seated inside at a window; he'd been watching them.
"You were more entertaining than local television, since there's apparently no afternoon news here," the raccoon said, "although I find it distressing that you must rely on such an...antique art to bolster your chances of freeing your Miss Winter."
"I'll take anything that might give us an edge," Jack said, realizing that Vivian must have further briefed Dr. Alder on the way up. "We still don't know how many we will have to face in there. We have evidence that shows three prisoners being held—that might not be enough by itself to..." He was interrupted by the agency's alert tone from his smartphone—shocked to get it, he had to concentrate on entering his pass code due to his arm's increased tremor.
"Broadcast alert to all available agents," Jack summarized. "You're named Vivian…along with the Hopps family...you aren't yet doctor...but Judy is…wanted down in Zootopia. They must still think you're down there too doc, but I don't think that assumption will last very long!"
"You're probably right," Dr. Alder said. "Are we to remain here now that we've been exposed? And agent Savage, I was told before you arrived that you personally saw and captured a living, primitive coypu just this morning?"
"We did. Maybe the others got more than one by now, we saw good evidence for a whole colony of them," Jack said caustically. "Exactly what the conspiracy needed to find and I enabled it!" He shut down his phone, not wanting to send any further acknowledgment of the alert from his present location.
"Although the conspirators don't seem to suspect you yet," Vivian stated, pointing at his phone.
"Maybe, maybe not, they could have forgotten that I'd been put on their notification list. They'll figure out soon enough that I'm here, but we should have several more hours before they can find some suitable agents and get them over here. I know they're short staffed when it comes to trustworthy partisans, and we've certainly made them more paranoid recently." Jack checked his watch. "Coming up on five; might be able to check the news and weather—find out what we'll be up against." He let them precede him deeper inside the house to hide the sudden fear that must have appeared on his face.
Every hour counts now! Any weather delays could be fatal to our chances and it was raining in Concordia three days ago. It's always changeable around the mountains this time of year. What if the Junction City site is hazy or overcast? You didn't think about that possibility, and it's not like we could reschedule the flight. We might have to take some real risks to get usable imagery in time.
Jack didn't want to wait until the local TV broadcast got around to the weather—they might just show the regional outlook anyway. He started to pull out his smartphone again, then remembered that the larger Hopps warren only had internal Wi-Fi connections. Everywhere else around Bunnyburrow proper was basic cell service or landline.
"Do we have an internet connection here?" He got a 'no' shake from two Hopps he didn't know by name who has just joined them. The news started—Jack reconciled himself to watch along with the rest.
Dillon's malicious accusation against the Hopps did get mentioned, but only as the fourth story, and they all relaxed along with the announcer's skeptical, even lighthearted treatment of it. Apparently, several of the Hopps, including Stu, had managed adequate damage control—they'd separately contacted the station in time to point out that their reactionary relative had gotten nearly everything wrong beyond the fact that a fox had shown up at their door. They confirmed that an actual vixen acquaintance of Mr. Grey's had been asked to stop by and deliver some of his baked goods while on her way back home up north. Some of the more conservative members of the warren had then become upset when she'd been welcomed to stay for some lunch. The fox was no longer there of course, and the Hopps apologized on behalf of their unnamed relative with assurances of their proper coming...censure.
"At least it seems that I haven't ruined their standing in the community," said their vixen of the moment in relief. "I do hope that someone mentions this to Mr. Grey so he knows what to say."
"I'm glad they're off the local hook, but this won't dissuade Tarija," Jack said, "I'd expect someone will respond sometime later tonight. Vivian, I'd like to inventory what you've brought and repack the essentials—we need to be ready to leave promptly on notice!" Vivian wasn't happy but understood when he limited them to a single change of clothes and minimal overnight necessities. They only left a few things behind, mostly duplicates of what he already had—Judy had chosen and packed well.
He was carrying the bag of redundant items toward the house when a Hopps farm truck pulled around and stopped behind him. Cousin Jackie got out, waved at him, walked around to take several boxes out of the passenger's side, then followed him in.
"Dinner is served!" she announced. "Rabbit chow! She held out the first shallow box to one of the Hopps bucks. "Hare chow!" Jack got his. "Rabbit chow! Raccoon chow! Four more rabbits and a fox chow out in the truck Tracey. Where's Jeremy and Bradley? I want to give everyone the latest!" She seemed to be in a good mood as they watched Tracey head outside.
The latest, once Jeremy had returned a half-hour later with Bradley and a doe named Heather, was that aunt Tyne, uncle Sid, and a few others hadn't really thought through their attempted insurrection against the warren's more permissive leadership. They'd been in too much of a hurry to exploit the serendipitous scandal—intent on getting it featured on Dillon's longer and more listened to weekend show.
"Yeah," Jackie said, "they were so eager to show how responsible and concerned for the warren's safety they were compared to those that ignored or invited threats!" She looked at Vivian. "It would have really helped them if you'd been more menacing Mrs. Wilde. I'm Jackie, Judy speaks highly of your son.
"Anyways, they didn't realize that they'd succeeded in smearing all of us, not just their personal rivals! Nobody thought to keep an eye on them, they'd been pretty quiet since agent Leland brushed off Uncle Sid when he tried to tell him what he already knew. We only realized what they'd done when Dillon came on the air."
"Anybody hurt? I got a call that it had gotten pretty ugly for awhile," Jeremy said. "I guess we know now where everybody stands."
"Not too bad, some sprains and bloody noses," Jackie said, then looked at the doe that was unwrapping and inspecting Jack's foot. "Anybody have to come down to the clinic Heather?"
"No, nobody came, I'll look at them when I get home. How'd you get involved Mr. Savage?"
"Wasn't there; got scraped up on a field exercise. Unfortunately, I'll have to be back out there tomorrow."
"More like blistered, torn open, and rubbed raw. I'll do what I can. Give me something to prop his leg up on. Thanks Brad. Now I'm going to give you some pain medication before I trim the loose skin." Heather pulled a small bottle of isopropyl alcohol out of her bag.
Jack managed to maintain his expected stoicism as she professionally debrided and re-wrapped his foot—she hadn't been kidding with her 'pain medication' quip. Fortunately, his other foot only required one minor bandage. Heather packed up, asked if anyone wanted to go back with her, got keys from Bradley, and drove off with Tracey. That left behind two Hopps emblazoned vehicles—one visible from the road.
"Could you put your trucks out of sight?" Jack said, trying to cover all contingencies. "I don't want anybody coming by and seeing this as a Hopps place while we're here. And could someone call the local sheriff and tell him there's really nothing to check on out here—in case he's asked to?"
"I think Stu already did," Jackie said to his relief.
"We've still got the Sorrel's old mailbox and sign," Bradley added, "won't take long to put back up." Jeremy went with him to help, and left the rest of them to wait for the evening ZNN broadcast.
Fabienne Growley had, as they'd hoped, replaced the regular 'Sunday Night Summary' correspondents, and had her serious news face on as she waited for the intro to finish. There was a breaking news banner at the bottom of the screen, and Jack's breath caught as he waited to see if she'd been able to push for a convincing treatment of the Fairfield evidence.
"Will Dr. Ulric appear to defend his findings?" asked Dr. Alder. Jack waved to shush him.
"This just in to the ZNN newsroom from the Federal District in Concordia. The Council of Delegates, in a highly unusual late Sunday session, has by a vote of two hundred and sixty seven to one hundred and twenty eight, passed Delegate Wade's new testing initiative on to the senate. This initiative, CD 8544, was introduced to address the increased number of relapses—or atavistic flashbacks—suffered by predatory mammals with prior exposure to M. Holicithias, or nighthowlers. It calls for the periodic testing of all predators employed in sensitive positions. Already controversial, Delegate Wade says that his measure is necessary for public safety due to the several new variants of the original nighthowler serum that have recently become available on the streets of some cities, and are now being seized by law enforcement."
"Shit," Jack said, "if this goes through, it means the conspirators can start to remove predators from government and even public positions at will! No more behind your back maneuvering needed!"
"Transparency and public trust for the masses will of course require that prey mammals be in charge of the testing and analysis," Dr. Alder said glumly.
"Lists of critical government officials, along with public safety related managerial and operational staff in transportation, water and power, medical facilities, and law enforcement, are being prepared by the FBI and Justice Department for review by the senate. Our experts are studying this initiative to see if this testing will be mandatory, or only done when indicated by a designated predatory mammal's medical history or behavior," Fabienne Growley said rather more sullenly from the TV.
"Won't the testing just ensure that they expose enough contaminated preds to justify their program?" Vivian said bitterly, "How could there be any honest oversight of this? They also said this is because of new street drugs. They're implying that anybody failing their test is a drug abuser!"
"Of course it will, and there won't be," Jack said almost as sourly. "They're certainly the source of any new variants that do exist, since Skye already identified Bellwether's chemist working for them at Deer Trail!" Jack's next thought zoomed up the list of his all-time 'most disturbing'. "I've been worried about someone making and using a weaker strength nighthowler to make preds jumpy or irascible to further erode public tolerance of them, but what if they've developed something like a timed release formulation and slip it in during one of their tests? They could easily set up everything from apparently random public meltdowns of prominent individuals, all the way up to untraceable savage pred time bombs!"
"The public already assumes that this only affects preds," Jackie said, "but we know it goes beyond them. We need to get the word out that's not true; everyone's at risk."
"Just trying to deflect from the real problem you pred simp!" Jeremy said to her, having come back inside. "Once someones able to get a belief into a mammal's head, that mammal will fight hard to keep it there. It's comfortable to accept something that agrees with your instinctive feelings and traditional beliefs; and distressing to be forced to reassess..."
"Fairfield picture!" Dr. Alder called as he pointed at the television.
"...appear to show a significant archaeological site uncovered in downtown Fairfield, although no independent corroboration has been provided. The initial investigator, a doctor Jarvis Ulric, of Piedmont University, claims the site contains recent remains of primitive, unintelligent mammals that would upset our present view of mammalian development. Doctor Ellison, of Concordia's National museum, cautions that this apparently solid evidence, has now not only gone missing, but that Dr. Ulric has ties to…"
"They're whitewashing it! Dr. Alder shouted with his fur bristled up.
Jack shared a shocked look with Vivian as the news showed, and continued to cast doubt on, a fraction of the evidence that Bogo must have given them. Dr. Ulric didn't appear, and there was no mention of either of the Deerbrooke finds.
"Look at Ms. Growley," Jackie said, "this isn't like her—it's like she has to read this—she's upset."
Jack was ambushed by the hopeless dread that had continually stalked him since their last encounter four days ago. This time, the fear wasn't just for his absent mate, it was for his own overt negligence.
We've been led into fighting an evidentiary war over past history, while allowing the conspiracy to prosecute their propaganda campaign! It might not matter what we find if they have this kind of control over the flow of information. We all ignored Dillon's promotion of their views at first, nobody pushed back against all of those planted stories that Skye found, Bogo's fighting a rearguard action to defend his accused officers. And Judy's recorded scripts! The conspiracy's plans for the predatory population were right there, but I didn't pay enough attention to them! We concentrated on specifics not strategies, followed mostly irrelevant leads, and ignored the bigger picture all around us!
"This isn't over Jack. Come back to us, we need you!" Vivian held him and tentatively reached toward his ears as Judy had done. Jackie saw, and moved to help out. "They can't ignore the prison evidence and direct witnesses! We can still win this," the vixen continued encouragingly. "Mr. Growley said she has limited control over the stories the network covers; she's mostly a presenter!"
"They've had a long time to set this up Vivian," Jack said as soon as he stabilized his breathing. "They almost succeeded in completely suppressing the Fairfield meat farm evidence, and that was an unexpected development. Deerbrooke is apparently off the radar for now as well, until they prepare their sting of Growley's company. They only need a few active conspirators to control their media message, recruiting casual sympathizers in the right places can effectively help with that. We just need to give them something they can't resist!" Jack put a paw on Vivian's arm to try and show her that he'd shaken off his latest funk.
"So, you are right, obtaining our photo evidence and rescuing the prisoners, particularly Lionheart, remains our best chance to break this. He's too infamous to cover up, we need to get him out and into a public media setting so his testimony can't be suppressed. And I don't know how we're going to do that!" Jack's regrettable realization immediately brought back his despondency and limp mood ears.
"One thing at a time Jack," Vivian soothed as she pulled him in with both paws on his shoulders. "Let's first concentrate on meeting the plane tomorrow, then getting the pictures, then meeting Nicholas and Kristen—they may have some new information or good plans for us." She broke eye contact with him, then raised her muzzle and looked about with a self-conscious expression. She released him.
Jack followed her attention and saw that everyone else was staring at them. Apparently neither the Hopps, nor Dr. Alder were used to seeing a bunny, or someone bunny adjacent, being hugged and soothed by a fox—twice in as many minutes. Or, he hoped, it might also be ZNN's and his abrupt data dumps about what they were actually involved in, and the odds of them pulling it off.
Jackie was able to respond and rescue them from the open-mouthed scrutiny. "It's possible that none of us will know about what happens tomorrow, or ever hear about you again if you...don't succeed."
"Guess we'll have to then," Jack said positively—more for himself than the rest. Crunch time was coming and he couldn't afford to backslide any more. "We have to start out no later than four tomorrow to make our rendezvous, so…"
Don't worry Mr. Savage," Jeremy said, "Bradley and I are staying overnight to watch out for you; we'll make sure you're up."
"Appreciate that Jeremy, but I wanted to ask a favor. Could one of you come down to the airport with us and drive the car back? I don't want to leave it there and possibly implicate those we borrowed it from if we're...delayed. I'd also like to use an alternate route if possible and avoid the road by the stations."
"No problem Mr. Savage, it'll be like sneaking home late after a really good date!"
"Like you'd know Jeremy!"
"He just wouldn't want anyone to know who he'd settled for!"
The teasing lightened their moods, and was apparently their signal to disperse—Jackie drove one other back with her to the main warren, while they were shown to their rooms. Jack set out what he'd need in the morning, pulled the shade against the strong twilight, and gratefully laid down in a real bed again.
"Quarter to four Mr. Savage!" announced Jeremy. "Your foxy girlfriend's already up."
What! My...she's? Oh that's Jeremy, I'm still there...here...how could he...he doesn't know, he doesn't know. Nothing like a serving of disorientation first thing in the morning. He's teasing about last night's episode, that's all.
Jack's watch showed he'd gotten nearly eight hours uninterrupted. Thank the spirits for that! He hurriedly cleaned and dressed, then went downstairs to find breakfast already waiting for him in a dimly lit inside room—it was the leftover trail munchies from his SUV. Vivian nodded to him, the wrappers in front of her showed the demise of the fox friendlier items that had been in his selection.
"Morning Mr. Savage," Jeremy said. "Had some callers last night round about eleven. Didn't even slow down by here on their way to the warren. Pronghorn n sheep, showed ZBI badges, but no warrant according to Cary n Charlie—couldn't have gotten very far inside with one anyway."
"Where are they now!" Jack came fully alert.
"Still at the warren Mr. Savage. They were mostly interested in your Missus here, but did ask if she came alone—then prowled around outside all night. Don't worry, we caught em trying to pull a fast one and will call the sheriff later in the morning after they've had some time to think about their trespassing!"
"I want to leave now if it's safe! You can tell us about it on the way." Jack got up, Jeremy turned off the light and they both felt their way after Vivian to and out the rear door. It was almost as dark outside as it had been in the house—only starlight fell. Jack spontaneously looked up as they walked to Vivian's car, and quickly found the inconspicuous grouping of Vulpecula east of overhead. "I'm coming Skye," he whispered a little too loudly. He tensed as they opened the car doors and the courtesy lights came on, hurriedly shut his own, then tried to see if the warren was even visible from where the car was parked.
Jack repeatedly bit his tongue to prevent himself from trying to micromanage Vivian, who carefully turned off the headlights before she started the engine, then rolled slowly out to the road and turned onto it without braking. She kept the car below thirty, with her head tilted out the open window to monitor a faded centerline that he probably wouldn't have been able to see himself. Mrs. superior night vision drove them about three kilometers westwards until Jeremy cautioned her to start looking for their turn. She let their speed decay, and swung left onto a dirt road—again without braking.
"This goes straight down through Derry; it's paved from there the rest of the way to route one-ninety-eight," Jeremy said. "Comes out between the train station and Middleburrow. And I just let the warren know we've left. Come first light, several of them will leave too. They can't confine or follow all of us!"
"About pulling a fast one?" Jack reminded their back seat passenger.
"Right. Quite a few at the warren were still up talking about the day when the agents came by. Erica and Tess and uncle Ellery saw movement back in their car while they were at the door asking about Mrs. Wilde here, and kept watch. Finally saw two big rodents, but still smaller than us, creep over to one of the air vents outside. Cary told me that Ellery said he thought they were Dassie, but didn't know what he meant by..."
"Hyrax!" Jack blurted in recognition. "They're a specialty mid-sized infiltration team—one of those is based out of Pacifica. They scout out barricade and hostage situations, things like… Where are they now!"
"In the duct work Mr. Savage," Jeremy said smugly. "They passed the word and quieted everybody down to listen—trapped them separately between pairs of slide valves! They'll either get hungry n thirsty, or we'll turn up the heat and flush em out whenever we want. Maybe they'll wait until the agents outside stop playing dumb and admit to a warrantless break in!
"Can't they cut or gnaw their way out?" asked Vivian. She'd sped them up a bit; the dirt road having proven to be well-graded.
"No," Jack said with a chuckle. "That just gives the Hopps another excuse to defend their warren, those agents were pushed into being too assertive and legally screwed themselves. I don't think Dillon's show is credible enough for probable cause. I think they have this well in paw." He reached his own back to high-palm Jeremy's—any kind of victory was welcome at this point.
"Still, they must at least suspect that I brought Dr. Alder here; I don't think they'd be looking this hard just for me." Vivian felt safe enough to finally turn on their fog lights as they approached Derry—a few buildings clustered around a basic crossroads.
"They might have realized by now that I've turned too," Jack added. He looked out past Vivian to see that the eastern horizon had become discernible. He hoped that Judy was already airborne.
They saw no other traffic the rest of the way to the airport. Vivian stopped in front of the small terminal and office building—he helped her unload the car while Jeremy readjusted the driver's seat.
"I'll hang around until I see you leave. Go help our Judy to get yours out n bring theirs down! And be careful!" Jeremy said sincerely, gripping his paw then reaching for Vivian's—she surprised him with a brief hug instead. He went to move the car to a better vantage; they took their bags.
The terminal was locked, but a gate in the fence to one side wasn't. Jack wondered why it was there at all—it extended only about seventy-five meters or so to either side of the terminal. Maybe just to keep someone's kits from running onto the field. They walked the smaller bags and archery equipment out onto the ramp towards the front corner of the closer big hangar, then went back together to get his heavier one.
Jack was pleased to be ready and waiting before Growley's Jet arrived, although they were both later for the rendezvous than he'd wanted—it was now bright enough that stars were no longer visible. Fifteen more arduous minutes brought pre-sunrise bright oranges to the eastern sky, and some activity on the far side of the airport—two agricultural aircraft had been rolled out to have their hoppers filled from a small tank truck. This made him fret enough for Vivian to notice, take out her phone, and check for a message.
"On their way at 5:05," Vivian said, then showed him the text.
At least your first lapse of the day was a minor one Mr. Competent! Try not to have any more!
"There they are!" she pointed out the jet on short final above the daybreak backlit tree line to the east.
The JetStream 1 touched down, rolled out, then turned and taxied back toward the ramp. Its paint scheme wasn't generically corporate—a highly stylized leaping leopard on the front half of the fuselage transitioned back to interleaved stripes that swooped up the vertical stabilizer—anybody that got a good look could easily identify them. They'd been seen, as it headed straight for them before turning right to stop close by. Jack held a paw up to Vivian, they should wait for the port side engine to wind down first.
It didn't, but continued to run. The airstair opened, and a uniformed bobcat exited to wave them over and then open the baggage compartment hatch.
A hot stop—they know we're late. Jack grabbed one end of his heavy case and Vivian helped him carry it over and hoist it in with the bobcat's assistance. They all went back to collect the remainder, he then followed a bow carrying Vivian up inside and almost bumped her when she stopped right in the doorway.
He couldn't blame her once he'd leaned forward with a paw on her hip to look past—Vivian was trading surprised stares with Fabienne Growley, and there was a large tigress crammed in the rear of the cabin.
"Uh, agent Savage? Miss fox? We can get going if you'll let me in?"
He pushed Vivian a bit and broke the mammal-jam to let the bobcat pilot inside. Judy stood to make brief introductions—apparently he was the only one who didn't know officer Fangmeyer, and who hadn't previously met Mrs. Growley.
"Eric Broadpaw agent Savage—with me please." The bobcat stepped into the flight deck. Vivian had to nudge him before he could make his feet move to follow. Jack sat in the co-pilot's seat and was shown how to adjust it forward.
I didn't have to find an excuse, ask, or beg! I'll be good and let him tell me if I can assist!
Jack spared a look back at the mere mortals in the cabin and Judy returned it with a big smile—it seemed that he owed her a big one. Officer Fangmeyer in the rear looked far less enthusiastic, and visibly tensed as the engines spooled up and they started to taxi.
This may have been the earlier eight-seat JetStream, but Mr. Growley hadn't stinted on its avionics. Broadpaw had a checklist on his main screen, and reached over to call up a moving map display on Jack's.
"Here's how you scroll and zoom it Savage. It's touchscreen, just select where we're going and tap 'Waypoint' here. I'll worry about intermediates and getting us there."
Jack was able to find Junction City, the rail spur line, and place the waypoint before they reached the end of the runway. Broadpaw finished his checklist, made sure everybody was belted in, and announced their taking the runway on the radio without identifying who they were. That wasn't quite standard procedure and gave Jack an idea.
"Can you head back to Zootopia for just a bit before turning east...in case someone's watching?"
Broadpaw nodded and keyed his mic. "Triburrows Regional traffic, now departing runway 2 6 will be a left crosswind climbing to 7,500." The throttles went forward and there was a faint sound of unhappiness from in back. Jack got a running narration on systems and procedures as they climbed out and eventually turned toward the risen sun. Their pilot seemed to enjoy the chance to share his profession rather than just be an airborne chauffeur, and now started to relate the flight characteristics of their aircraft.
"Don't you dare let him fly it!" came from Fangmeyer and drew a few empathetic snickers.
Jack took his leave with thanks once they were established in a cruise climb—he needed to find out why Mrs. Growley had joined them, and what impact that would have on his still nebulous plans. Everyone's eyes watched him to the empty seat across from Judy—her face revealed that she would be the bearer of the bad news. Jack's gut noticed too, and twisted to grind up his newly fledged elation.
"Vivian said you saw the news about the initiative and the censored Fairfield evidence." Judy said tersely—she and Fabienne exchanged a look. "It gets worse, late last night the ZBI arrested Chief Bogo, possibly along with his mate, she was able to send a short prepared text out to selected officers. We all immediately contacted the media and got enough exposure that the ZBI had to admit to it and release charges less than two hours ago. That's why we were late. It's Aiding and Abetting with regard to Nick, Kristen, Alder and Ulric even though the last three still haven't been publicly charged with any crimes. They've also invoked the Corrupt Organization Act to force Federal oversight and control onto the ZPD. No specific charges for me yet, but I'm wanted as a Mammal of Interest and as a Material Witness."
"I want my chief cleared and back at the ZPD," Fangmeyer gritted through her teeth, "and since you're going to do a prison break, I want to help you break things!"
"A prison break?" Fabienne said staring at Judy. "You just admitted this morning we were going to photograph one being built! Nothing more than that! Derreck put his trust in you, where is yours in us!"
"OK, here's the deal Ms. Growley!" Jack held up his arms, then stood to be closer to her eye level. "We didn't trust you to hold newsworthy information that will get people, including all of us, killed if released prematurely. We trusted very few others with it either. Of course, we couldn't prevent you from coming along on your own aircraft, we had no other choice but this to get the needed evidence to bring down an organized criminal conspiracy." Jack pointed a finger. "You've chosen to be here, you've now assumed our risk, it's way too late to call this off and turn back. Apex predators like you are the prime target of this conspiracy—if you bail out now and turn us in to the authorities, it'll just prove your guilt too!"
"Derreck said that he'd underestimated our personal danger," Fabienne said slowly with a stunned look at Jack. "It's really more than just bringing down our business as a symbol of our predatory stigma; you say that there are further plans that they'd silence us to protect. Who have they already imprisoned?"
"You're almost there Mrs. Growley," Jack said softly, "Think back to who...and where."
"You tipped me earlier that Bellwether and Lionheart are both in federal custody...after having been sentenced and imprisoned locally...that shows continued federal interest in the savage predator crisis...which everyone else considers solved and over...a conspiracy theorist would say that the government is trying to suppress any…" Fabienne ran down and stared at Jack's smile.
"Bellwether's efforts were a small part of something much bigger that is currently embedded in several government departments, and that remains active. However, her vain in both senses of the word power play almost exposed the greater part of their conspiracy last year! Therefore, she was taken under their control."
"Which is what you're trying to re-expose today. And by bigger, that prison under construction that Judy showed me...is for us." Fabienne looked back at Fangmeyer. Vivian gently cleared her throat.
"We'll know the true extent of what officer Wilde found in another hour," Judy added.
"Are we photographing the prison to help plan this breakout, or is Lionheart somewhere else?"
"Somewhere else. If the conspiracy learns that location has leaked, those mammals will be killed to prevent their possible rescue and eventual testimony against them," Jack said as severely as he could.
"Including the agent that originally discovered where he'd been taken," Judy said for him to his relief.
"They must be held very securely then," Fabienne mused. "How do you realistically expect to get them out safely with such a small group? Why is no other help available to you?"
"This conspiracy is widespread, any official request for backup we make would be guaranteed to expose us to them. They don't know that we know about their prisoners and where they're held, or that we're coming for them. We know their location is indeed secure, but feel that they are nevertheless, lightly guarded. Stealth and surprise is our best chance to liberate them—getting them back out once we do is our main problem. They're in an isolated area."
"But somewhere near Concordia?" Fabienne said looking thoughtful. "Bellwether's held in the Prairie River Prison there, they might keep the others...close? For a story this big, I'd have more than enough pull to requisition a helicopter from our affiliate...would that help?" She was now the predatory newsmammal.
"If you breathe one word of this before we get them out safely, I will use my dying breath to pin those lives to your hide!" Jack glared at the leopardess. "We'll need to take a vote on this."
Judy was a 'yes', as was a reluctant officer Fangmeyer. Made sense, officers were trained to request available back up. He was too actually. Jack looked at Vivian—the vixen looked conflicted. He knew both Wildes had past issues with the media. This would greatly enhance—for some of them—their ability to escape cleanly. He would just have to ensure somehow that Skye was their first priority. He said yes.
"I'm gratified by the outpouring of confidence you've shown in me," Fabienne said sarcastically. "I'll strive to transcend the prevalent perception of my profession."
Judy's face agreed with Jack's appraisal of how verbally well matched both the Growleys were. He wondered which had induced the other's verbosity.
"We'd better set up now and practice so were ready," Jack stated, then raised his voice, "What's our ETA and how's the weather there?"
"One hour eighteen minutes Mr. Savage. Predicted scattered cu's at eight thousand, thin cirrus at twenty-six. We just passed the crest of the Mammoths, so expect some chop for awhile."
That pulled a brief whine out of the tiger seated on the floor aft and leaned up against the bulkhead. None of the sumptuous seats, even reclined, were suitable for her; she was still tall enough that her head would have been bent over to clear the curved cabin profile.
"Mr. Broadpaw, are we being painted by anybody's radar?" Jack asked. He got a negative answer. "OK then; turn off your transponder, and the rest of you phones off and batteries out—I don't want us getting pinged by a cell tower. When we get closer, we'll also need to make sure we're not pulling a contrail."
Fabienne Growley pulled a broadcast quality videocamera and folded tripod out of the under table storage in front of her seat. Jack was pointed to the compartment behind his, it yielded a fairly large and expensive Pralix camera with a likely even pricier fifty to two hundred and fifty millimeter zoom lens. He took his smaller back up camera from his carry on, and offered it to both Vivian and Judy—both demurred, so he recruited Vivian as the vixen's height would give her a better angle through her window.
Jack set both cameras to medium low sensitivity, and a fast shutter speed to maximize resolution, then coached Vivian on how to operate his and about the images he wanted. Fabienne seemed quite familiar with her set up, and said she knew what sequences would look good for broadcast. He decided they would shoot from the port side of the aircraft, the space by the door would let Fabienne work more easily with her bulkier equipment. She wanted wide shots that showed the whole facility and would mostly rely on Jack's stills for close ups.
Once they seemed comfortable with their arrangements, Fabienne picked up her rig, moved it aft, set it in the aisle just in front of Fangmeyer, and pointed it up the cabin. She waved for Vivian to join her.
"I want to record an 'on assignment' intro first. You could help here too Mrs. Wilde, just watch through here. Then this switch turns it on and off, you'll see a two-second auto-fade in and out." Fabienne angled the viewfinder for the vixen's convenience, then the directional mic. "This should only take a minute." She moved forward as Fangmeyer pulled her legs back to make more room for Vivian.
"Wait!" Jack called out. "Maybe we could use this to start justifying our resistance in the public's eye! Our cover's already blown to the conspirators, so we might as well introduce ourselves to everybody else along with our evidence. Ms. Growley, refer to this as a requisitioned flight, don't connect it to you, then introduce me as being ZBI! Make me responsible! That way I'll take most of the heat if this goes south!"
"You could mention us too," Fangmeyer said. "Something like a joint ZBI-ZPD anti corruption task force or something. Chief could use a good word right about now!"
Fabienne came back to give Vivian some camera direction and let her get a feel for panning it, while Jack hastily scribbled a few notes on a Proteo monogrammed memo pad and gave it to her. Fabienne read it as they both got in position, then stuffed it away.
"Camera on now!...This is Fabienne Growley for ZNN on special assignment high above canyon country in the deep interior! I am coming to you today aboard a requisitioned aircraft being flown on a joint law enforcement surveillance mission that is minutes away from revealing a previously unknown and very shocking large scale construction project. We are presently eastbound near the Western and Great Basin route towards Junction City. This is where the initial evidence for this major, but publicly undisclosed and unauthorized project was brought to light by a Zootopia Police Department officer working in conjunction with the Federal Bureau of Investigation." Fabienne took two graceful steps to her right as Vivian panned with her.
Jack looked through his camera and fiddled with the focus for a moment, then leaned back and turned towards the video camera with his impassive face on.
"The FBI lead on this mission to unearth the truth, is Special Agent Jack Savage!" He made a brief nod of acknowledgment, then turned back to the window as Fabienne continued. "Due to the unprecedented and unique nature of this impending disclosure, ZNN was exclusively invited to record the confirmation of this hidden mystery. Now just minutes away!" Vivian recognized the change in Fabienne's tone and cut the video.
"Flowery," Jack commented. "But should do the trick."
"Easier to cut than add," Fabienne countered. "I'll be recording audio while taking my video, so please watch what you say."
"Eighty miles out," Broadpaw announced, "how do we want to do this?"
Jack went forward, sat, and was relieved to see that the clouds ahead and below were fairly small and well scattered—they wouldn't be a factor. He then adjusted his map display. "Lets do a level flyby on this course about five or six kilometers south of the railroad tracks," he spoke up for the benefit of Fabienne and Vivian. "That'll allow context shots of the facility, town, and tracks. Then make a wide right turn if we need to come around for another pass. If not, continue further east, then make it a descending right turn so that we come up the east side of the target a few kilometers away for close ups. If we stay below the cloud bases and at the right altitude, we'll have the sun mostly behind us from their viewpoint."
"Can do!" Broadpaw said enthusiastically. Clandestine photo reconnaissance seemed far more exciting to him than working to keep his employer's drink unspilled. "We're at twenty-two. If you want lower, I'd better start down now."
"Let's try something around fifteen for the first pass," Jack said. He went back aft, took a couple of test shots out the window to get used to his paws filling camera, and biased his exposure down a stop.
Officer Fangmeyer wasn't too happy about their amusement park like descent to his chosen altitude. Still, she wanted to see along with the rest of them, so roused and scrunched herself around to hang her paws over the back of Judy's seat. Judy looked dubiously back and up at the wide striped face looming over her and asked, "Are you...safe Nadine?"
"Maybe, if he doesn't do that again," she said miserably, and lifted her eyes slowly towards the flight deck. "I'll try to warn you anyway. If we survive all of this, can you keep my...unease to yourself Judy?"
"I promise I won't tell Nick."
Interestingly, that seemed to be more than sufficient for Judy's fellow officer.
"Twelve miles and three minutes out, I can already see your...facility agent Savage. It's...huge!"
Broadpaw's tone immediately had them at the windows. He shifted course a few degrees to more quickly bring it into view for them.
Jack froze in disbelief. He heard a 'merciful spirits' from someone, and contributed a few 'shits' of his own. He could see the large square compound that Nick had reported—with another adjacent to its north.
Nick could only estimate its scale at night! That's got to be two by five kilometers at a minimum! Ten, twelve, sixteen, at least twenty finished buildings in the southern section with poured pads for as many more. And that really long one in..."
"Pictures people!" Judy cried from behind.
Jack lifted his camera and zoomed in for a clearer view of the partial perimeter wall, its towers, stacked supplies within, and a truck on an already paved access road from the town. He heard Fabienne narrating to her camera in a somewhat hushed 'The aliens have just landed' voice, and remembered to start taking his own images.
He got his wide shots—everything Nick had mentioned in his report was easily recognizable. The warehouse near the spur line had a least a dozen railcars alongside, he zoomed in again to record them. As the complex came abeam, he kept in tight and did a six shot mosaic—three shots from further to closer, then again with the jet's motion having provided the offset. Curious if this camera had a burst mode like his own, he held the shutter button down and got three quick exposures—so it did. Jack took a couple more of the town for completeness as the prison drifted behind the wing.
"I'm good for this pass," Jack stated. Vivian concurred, and Fabienne cleared her pilot to continue on and make the descending turn. Broadpaw throttled back a little and after a minute entered a gradual turn. To anyone on the ground that had spotted them, it would make them look innocuous as they'd been high, well to the south, and had not deviated from their course.
The turn took several minutes, so Jack reviewed a few of Vivian's well framed images, then changed out the memory chip in her camera so they'd have an extra back up. Their next pass from south to north was more intense as they were closer with more apparent motion and less time. He got two larger mosaics, and a few tight shots of individual buildings, a tower, and the large central structure.
They flew straight away at reduced throttle to avoid attracting any more attention since they'd just flown right over Junction City. At Broadpaw's suggestion, he continued much further north in a broad arc that would approach and enter Concordia's positive control airspace from the north, not from the direction of Zootopia or Pacifica. It would add a half hour to their trip, but seemed a sensible precaution, and he said they would have adequate fuel once they'd climbed back up to an efficient altitude.
"Impressions everyone?" Jack asked as Broadpaw started to gradually add power.
"I'd always thought this kind of evil was more...individually...or randomly directed against us from normally separate elements of society," Fabienne said quietly into the rest of their silence. "Not something this...organized...or that would have enough official support to be able to do something of this magnitude—or keep it hidden this long!"
"Planned genocide, they're really going to...try and remove as many of us as they can," Vivian said in agreement. "Nicholas was right, why else would this be put out here."
"That long central building going up between the sections," Jack noted, "It's too big for just support services…like food, or administration...I saw a lot of fairly complex structure, plumbing, tankage, more like industrial stuff…for processing?" He didn't want to speculate on what kind of processing right now.
"Maybe their own power plant?" Officer Fangmeyer said. "But wouldn't they make that separate, or put it outside the wall? And then why the power towers going back towards the city's?"
"I hope someone got pictures of those," Jack said looking at Vivian. She looked unsure. He'd need to review his own wide shots.
"I know, I know, it's a prison...or prison camp. That's what we've all thought." Judy said in confusion. "But if it's being hidden out here, why are they...trying to make it nice? To calm those brought here...they're already going to know what's happening by then aren't they?"
"Make it nice?" Vivian and Jack spoke simultaneously.
"I think you were all too busy taking pictures," Judy said slowly, "Those finished buildings didn't really look like cell blocks, or even like they had much security around them, just the outside wall. City homeless shelters look worse than these!"
"She's got a point, that big building—the finished part—isn't just a concrete block, it had extras," Fangmeyer said. "A lot of the rest look like identical pre-fab housing—like barracks."
"Seriously, it had a fairly attractive entryway on the end, and I'll swear on mom's garden that they're grading for some landscaping near it!" Judy stated more assuredly.
Jack went back through his images to find the best one of that structure. He asked Fabienne how he could zoom in on it—she stepped over and silently demonstrated for him. Judy was right, there was a contoured lintel and molded decorations at the end of the building. He scrolled around and found other fairly simple, but quite unnecessary for a prison, architectural elements around several structures. There were also some walkways that deliberately meandered between them.
"Yeah, your right Judy. None of this makes sense if the conspiracy's on a tight budget!" Jack admitted. "We're really missing something here."
"Can I see that?" Vivian joined Fabienne in peering at his camera's display. "Nobody in their right mind puts a happy face over a prison. Particularly one they went to some effort to hide. What if there's more to it than we thought? Ignore what's around it, and that building could be a hospital or sanatorium."
Judy's gasp of horror presaged her outcry. "My announcements! My PSA's about watching your pred neighbors! Look for signs of toxicity; help them get treatment. Most won't have to be forcibly taken here as prisoners—instead they'll be told they're being brought in for treatment and recovery—right here! Some might even be persuaded to come willingly before they realize they might not be able to leave!"
"Right...they'll be offered specialized treatment here in lieu of more restrictive measures being imposed on them if they remain a danger in the cities," Jack said, realizing they were still learning the true perfidy of their opposition. He saw Fabienne staring at Judy. "Don't blame her Mrs. Growley! She did those to maintain cover to…" The snow leopard's paw reached and gently wrapped over his shoulder to stop him.
"I know Savage, she told me as soon as she could. So did Derreck. I don't think this changes anything...yet. They cannot reveal this place before they generate a renewed violent predator problem for it to address. Exposed now, this place still reveals their ultimate intent for us."
"Which is still a prison disguised as a hospital or sanatorium," Fangmeyer said sourly. "I don't expect that they'll actually cure very many of their patients!"
"Of course, since the conspirators developed those nighthowler variants in order to create the patients." Jack's thoughts grew darker. "They'll first take care of any predators they see as threats to their expansion of control. To poison those individuals without suspicion, they have their planned testing regimen—if it's not mandatory at first, it soon will be, and that inevitable success will then enable their moving onto suppressing the general predatory population. For that, an ideal widespread vector would be..."
"Proteo," Fabienne said resignedly, her tail as limp as his ears. "We have full market penetration with larger predators, and we constantly fight extortion attempts that use claims of meat tainting our products—there's your other vector for these toxins. Those recent feral animal discoveries are not only to discredit predators in general, but to specifically attack my family, to enable their corporate takeover."
"So the new...operators will have a ready made distribution network for priming their target population with whatever subclinical nighthowler variant they develop! Then a simple chemical trigger lets them induce acute attacks whenever needed to keep the greater public frightened. Then use that public pressure to not only transfer those victims, but to induce others even incidentally exposed to come willingly for test and treatment at this suddenly available facility." Jack began to dislike his active imagination.
"The public doesn't care to bog itself down in details," Fabienne said. "Tell them you're going to build a secure hospital to address the growing problem, then have it finished just weeks or months later—they won't see any problem with that—if anything they'll commend the speed with which their leaders addressed the threat. And remember what Derreck found, one of those threats is the changing ratio of prey to predators—they need to curb our numbers for political reasons as well as simple fear and revenge."
"So, are we still agreed that the original threat posed by this Junction City...facility is still valid, even if it's prettied up a bit?" Jack said to settle their discussion. Nobody dissented. "Now, we four need to find a safe place after landing to meet with officer Wilde, plan, and arrange some decent transportation. I assume we can make calls from here, are we in range yet?"
"Should be soon agent Savage," said Broadpaw, demonstrating his sharp hearing from up front, "I'll inform you as soon as we have a steady connection."
"Mrs. Growley," Jack said, "I'd really like to make backup copies of these images as soon as possible. Do you think we could do that before we go our separate ways? Judy, Vivian, do we have an extra burner for her?"
"Judy already gave me one and explained your protocols," Fabienne said smoothly and pulled it out briefly, while Judy gave him a 'way ahead of you' smile. "I also understand the difficulties you will have arranging things with your identities likely flagged, so you can meet and prepare yourselves in my suite at the Pinnacles this afternoon. That will be quite secure."
Vivian Wilde and officer Fangmeyer looked absolutely shocked, Judy was giddy. Most mammals knew about the hyper exclusive hotel and resort—one, as rumor had it, that charged you to even look at it if you got anywhere near their perimeter.
"...and tell Mr. Broadpaw your requirements; he has volunteered to help discreetly arrange a vehicle for you at the airport."
"Mrs. Growley? Please excuse my impertinence," Jack asked carefully; his curiosity irresistible. "Does Mr. Growley know that you are here?"
"No, he does not."
Aircraft altitudes are referenced from sea level, and Junction City is at an elevation of around 4,600 feet. Their first photo pass is therefore closer to the ground than Jack's request of fifteen thousand feet made it seem to be.
Our next decisive and action packed installment will be: Chapter 29 The Best Laid Plans