"We picked him up about half an hour ago," Winters recounted flatly, arms crossed as he peered through the observation room's window. On the other side of the glass, Lewis Chamber sat alone in the SIU's interrogation room, his jaw tight with barely restrained frustration.

The young tapir had been pacing earlier, but at some point he'd forced himself to settle. Now he was just stewing, his dark, beady eyes glaring at the metal table as though it were the reason he was sitting in that room at all.

They all knew his type; wealthy, entitled, and accustomed to having things go his way. The kind of mammal who always thought they were above spending time in rooms like this. The kind who always had lawyers to keep him out of them. That, more than anything, explained the simmering irritation he radiated, his long snout twitching in irritation every few seconds as his claws tapped impatiently against the tabletop.

He'd dressed well that morning. A tailored charcoal suit, silk tie, and a pressed shirt. But now the jacket hung loosely off his frame, his tie was askew, and - courtesy of a little proactive thermostat manipulation - a thin layer of sweat had begun to seep through the linen of his shirt.

"We sent the plainclothes officers in first, with a backup unit up the block in case he tried to make a run for it."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Did he?"

"Please," Winters scoffed. "He didn't even have time to unlock his front door before we had paws on him. Made a bit of a scene, but nothing we couldn't handle." His tail flicked once, betraying his mild annoyance. "Mostly just yelling about gross abuses of power and violations of his rights. Told me he'd have us all fired."

Nick chuckled. "Charming."

"Nothing I haven't heard before," Winters shrugged.

Judy frowned. "Did anyone see you arrest him?"

"We didn't black-bag him, Hopps," Winters drawled, giving Judy an unimpressed look. "But we kept it as quiet as we could. No cameras, no press, just a couple of gawking civilians. Right into the back of a cruiser and straight here."

"We still have to assume Longfellow knows we have him by now." Judy pointed out. "I doubt we'll be able to hold him long."

"Say no more, Carrots. Time for the master to go to work," Nick peered at Chamber through the two-way glass. "Twenty bucks says I can get this guy to crack with less than a hundred words."

"Honestly, Nick?" Judy muttered, hiding a smile.

"Are you kidding? I'm on fire today." Nick rolled his shoulders a few times, looking like a prize fighter ready to step into the ring. "Well? Anyone?"

"Sure, I'll take that action," a uniformed officer next to the door said, his paw freezing on its way to his wallet when Winters turned to fix him with a glare. "I-I mean..."

Rolling his eyes, Winters looked back to Nick. "I don't think so, Wilde."

"Scared of a little bet, Sergeant?"

"I mean, you're not going in there. Neither is Hopps."

"What? Why the hell not?"

"Because Chamber knows you both. And considering he sent mammals to kill you and Hopps specifically, he probably doesn't have a lot of respect for you either. I wouldn't bank on you getting very far trying to coerce him."

"He's got a point, Nick," Judy admitted, a little reluctantly.

"Yes, I do. I can handle this one."

"You?"

"Why not?" Winters shrugged, cracking his knuckles one by one. "I have been told that some mammals find me intimidating."

Nick sighed. "You better have some fancy tricks up your sleeve, then. Like Carrots said, we're not exactly spoiled for time here."

"Fancy tricks are your style, Wilde. Not mine," he muttered, tilting his head to one side until his neck let out an audible pop. "And I'm betting that Chamber is every bit as gutless as he looks. I can work with that."

The snow leopard left without another word, and a few seconds later the interrogation room's door opened. Seemingly not in any rush, Winters strolled over to the bare metal table and calmly took a seat across from the annoyed-looking tapir. "Mr. Chamber."

"I believe I have the right to speak to my lawyer," Lewis responded condescendingly, looking down his sizable nose at the tactical officer.

"No, you don't."

"I beg your pardon?"

Winters raised an eyebrow at the young mammal's shocked expression. "Lawyers are for mammals who've been placed under arrest, and you're not under arrest."

"Well, then I believe I'll be on my way." He raised his cuffed hooves. "If you'd be so kind?"

Winters made no move to remove, or even acknowledge, the pawcuffs. "You've been implicated in an ongoing terrorist plot, Mr. Chamber. As such, you're being detained until we can determine the nature and scope of whatever threat you may still pose to the citizens of Zootopia."

"Detained for how long, exactly?"

"Until we see fit to release you," Winters responded coolly.

"That's illegal."

"It's actually not." The leopard let out a low, rumbling growl. "You can thank your own party for that disturbingly broad-scoped piece of legislation."

"Tha-"

"Did you know we don't even have to tell anyone we've detained you?" he asked. "That part in particular should worry you. Because if there's another attack and even one more innocent mammal is harmed, I'm going to make sure that you never see a day in prison."

"W-what?"

"No, I'll see to it that you end up in Cliffside Mental Hospital, too doped up to remember your own name. Then I'll not only scrub your records out of the ZPD database, but I'll have some associates of mine wipe your DMV and Social Security records, too."

Lewis recoiled as far as his chair allowed.

"I'll turn you into a ghost, Chamber. You'll spend the rest of your life in an eight-by-eight room, staring at the white padded walls, drooling on your own straitjacket, and no one will ever come to save you." Winters continued, leaning over the table. "And you're still young. The rest of your life is a long fucking time."

"But I'm..."

"A pile of speciest shit," Winters interrupted. "Which would be enough to piss me off on a good day. But you and the mammals you work for are trying to tear down this city, and for that I'm more than willing to dedicate the rest of my life to fucking up yours."

"Y-you can't do that."

"Yes, I can. And yes, I will. Unless you can provide me with an extremely compelling reason not to."

"I-if you want something from me," Lewis stammered, desperately trying to regain his composure. "T-that puts me in a p-position to n-negotiate."

"No, it puts you in a position to tell me everything you know, then pray to every god you can think of that it's enough."

"I...I want immun-"

"Stop. No requests. No more questions." Winters stood to leave. "You've got until I reach the door to decide. Once I leave this room, that's it for you."

It would've taken Winters five steps to reach the door; Chamber called out before he'd taken two. "Wait!"

Winters paused for a long moment. Then, very slowly, he turned around. "Yes?"

"...alright."

"Alright what?"

"I'll...I'll tell you what you want to know."

"Smart move, Lewis." Returning to his seat, Winters pulled a notepad from his sleeve pocket and placed it on the table between them. "Now start talking."

~o~o~o~

It was nearly half an hour before Winters returned to the observation room, a small but unmistakable smirk on his face. "Well, that was productive."

"Yeah," Nick muttered, peering at Chamber through the glass. "The captain is on the phone with a judge. With a bit of luck, we'll have a warrant to raid Longfellow's offices within the hour."

"That's what I like to hear."

"Do we believe him, though?"

"I think I gave him plenty of motivation to be truthful."

"Maybe. But he's supposed to be Longfellow's right paw. I find it a little hard to accept that he'd have no idea what the next part of the plan is."

"Maybe Longfellow compartmentalized the information? We'll know soon enough, anyway," Judy added, giving the larger officer a slightly cold look. "Assuming your little performance in there doesn't come back to bite us."

Winters peered back at her, crossing his arms. "Problem, Hopps?"

"Yes, actually," she responded, mirroring his posture. "Chamber wasn't wrong. He was entitled to have a lawyer present, and now everything he just told you is almost certainly going to be deemed inadmissible in court. And even if that weren't the case, while I realize we're allowed to lie about some things during an interrogation, there's a difference between lying to a suspect and outright threatening them. When he does speak to his lawyer, they're going to have a field day with that."

Winters regarded her quietly for a moment, then nodded. "You're absolutely right. And I'm sure I'll be hearing something very similar from Captain Burke in the very near future. Probably at a much higher volume. Incidentally though, that's why I didn't threaten Chamber with physical violence."

Judy blinked, surprised.

"Coming from me, violence would be a credible threat," Winters continued. "After all this is over, if Chamber's lawyer tells a judge that their client was threatened by a ZPD officer, I want the ZPD to be able to honestly respond that they were obviously baseless threats I couldn't possibly have followed through on, and that any reasonable mammal would have known that."

"Still pretty risky," she commented.

"No shit," Winters snorted. "There's a reason I prefer kicking in doors with SWAT."

~o~o~o~

"I've got bad news and worse news."

"Well, isn't that a refreshing change of pace," Nick snarked, earning himself a hard look as he and Judy followed Winters into Captain Burke's office. "Er...sorry, sir. Did we not get the warrant?"

"That'd be the bad news, Wilde. Turns out that Longfellow has a lot of political clout in this city." Burke leveled his glare on Winters. "Enough that the Judge wanted to see the interrogation footage for himself before he signed off on the search."

Before that moment, Judy never would have thought she'd get to see the infamous Sergeant Winters cringe, even if was only slightly. "Faden is a reasonable mammal, sir. He'll see th-"

"Judge Faden," Burke interrupted, sharply. "Happens to be a strong believer in the Bill of Rights. Particularly that whole part about due process. I doubt he'll look favorably on a mammal being denied access to a lawyer."

"Actually, sir," Nick jumped in. "Applied a certain way, the Watering Hole Act could effectively suspend a mammal's right to legal counsel."

"Excuse me?" Burke responded, flatly.

"Hey, I didn't write the law." Nick shrugged. "And I'll admit that as legal interpretations go, it's definitely on the creative side."

"Well, hopefully Judge Faden is in a creative mood. In the meantime, we have another issue. At least four of the mammals-of-interest we'd been tracking just fell off the grid entirely. The same thing happened right before the previous attacks. That'd be concerning enough on its own, except that we've had officers following up on the mammals Mikkel named all night, and so far? Nothing. Just empty homes and employers pissed that they haven't shown up for work."

The room went still as everyone processed the implications. The weight of the situation hit Judy like a physical shove, every instinct in her screaming that they were running out of time. "So, either we've stumbled on nearly a dozen unreported missing mammal cases, or..."

"Or they're preparing for another attack," Winters finished grimly. His claws drummed against the side of his belt as he stared at the map on the monitor, where the network of addresses they'd been tracking had been laid out in stark digital clarity. Red dots blinked ominously around Zootopia's city center, marking the last known locations of the vanished mammals.

"And given our track record," Nick sighed. "I'm willing to bet it's door number two."

"It's got to be the Unity Parade, sir," Judy insisted. "Nothing else makes sense. They have to call it off."

Burke's jaw clenched as his gaze flicked between the map and the gathered officers. The signs were clear as day, and they weren't pointing anywhere good. The captain exhaled sharply, his expression dark. "I need to make a call."

Without another word, he snatched up the receiver of the nearest desk phone, punching in a number from memory before turning slightly away from the room.

"This is Precinct 13," the captain said, his voice measured but clipped. "Get me the Chief." A pause. His nostrils flared. "Listen to my voice. Do I sound like I give a shit whether he's in a meeting? Put me through. Now."

The silence that followed stretched painfully long.

Judy exchanged a glance with Nick. She didn't have to say anything; his ears were already pinned back, his tail flicking in agitation. Winters, standing stiffly beside them, merely crossed his arms, his eyes still fixed on the monitor.

She could feel the energy in the room shifting, officers stealing glances at each other, shifting their weight, ears twitching as they listened in. It was a room full of seasoned professionals, but even they could feel it.

The city was on the verge of something. And they were already behind.

Finally, Burke spoke again. "Bogo. It's Burke. We have a problem." His fingers tightened on the receiver. "Yes, another one." His voice dropped, low and rumbling. "You need to speak to the mayor, sir. Immediately."

~o~o~o~

One call led to another, then another after that. A video conference followed, and before long, half the conference room screen was filled with the faces of City Council members, their expressions ranging from concerned to infuriatingly impassive – particularly considering how many of their fellow council members were still in the hospital.

It didn't take long for Nick and Judy to be dismissed - politely, but firmly. The conversation had officially risen "above their pay grade."

So they waited. Twenty long minutes passed, each more agonizing than the last. Judy's foot tapped restlessly against the polished tile, while Nick leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his tail flicking in irritation.

Then Burke's roar shattered the silence.

"GODSDAMNED BASTARD!"

They rushed back inside just in time to see the bear slam a frying-pan-sized paw down on the conference room's phone, shattering it with enough force to send pieces of twisted plastic flying through the air. "OF ALL THE BRAINDEAD...SHORT-SIGHTED...ARGHHH!"

Although one such piece managed to hit Winters almost perfectly between the eyes, he didn't so much as flinch in response. The snow leopard simply glared angrily at the wall behind Precinct Thirteen's Captain, as if he were trying to bore a hole right through the concrete with his eyes and set City Hall ablaze himself.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here," Nick muttered to his partner, "And guess that the call didn't go too well."

Burke shot him a glare, nostrils flaring as he sucked in a breath through his teeth, his massive chest rising and falling with barely contained fury, the look in his eyes reminding Nick more vividly of the Night Howler crisis than anything else had in years. "Do I look like I'm in the mood, Wilde?"

Nick – who was many things, but certainly not an idiot – responded with a short, "No, sir."

"It would seem that the mayor..." Winters trailed off for a brief moment; Judy could actually hear his teeth grinding as he did. "...feels that cancelling the parade now may provoke an attack."

Judy blinked. "Wait. Hold on. Are you... are you actually saying that even though we showed the mayor verified, actionable evidence that someone is planning to attack the Unity Parade..." She paused, clearly struggling to wrap her head around the sheer lunacy of it all. "...he's still not willing to cancel it? Because that might result in someone attacking the Unity Parade?"

"Correct."

"I...he...that's..." Judy's paws curled into fists at her sides as her temper flared. "That is the most ass-backwards, politically-warped, pants-on-head stupid logic I have ever heard in my life!" Her voice rose, ears flattening against her skull as frustration boiled over. "Does he think this is some sort of bluff?! Does he think we're just making this up?!"

Winters let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "No, Hopps. He thinks that if we acknowledge the threat, it makes the city look weak. And if Zootopia looks weak, he looks weak. And if he looks weak, he doesn't get re-elected."

Nick's ears flicked back. "So, what? He's willing to gamble thousands of lives on his public image?"

"Not just gamble," Burke growled. His paws were still clenched, his knuckles pressing white against his fur. "He's already made his decision. He's doubling down."

Judy's jaw tightened, rage burning hot in her veins. "What the fuck?!"

Winters exhaled sharply through his nose, his tail lashing once in agitation. "We need to get ahead of this. Now."

Burke nodded sharply, already moving toward the door, the others following close behind as he stormed into Precinct Thirteen's command centre. "Marks!"

"Captain?"

"Compile everything we've got on the mammals of interest. I want it disseminated to every Precinct, every Community Police Office, every godsdamned meter maid in the city. I want their faces on every publicly visible screen we have access to, and I want it done ten minutes ago!"

"Right away, sir," the impala responded shortly.

"Corban!" He turned to an aardvark at a nearby terminal. "I want a list of every significant target along the Unity Parade route, and then I want eyes on each and every one of them. If they're aiming for something, I want us to be in position before they make their move."

"Consider it done, Captain."

"Winters, I'm putting Thirteen's tactical team under your command. Start prepping for an immediate raid on Longfellow's offices. I want you ready to roll out as soon as that warrant comes through."

"On it," Winters nodded, already keying his radio.

Burke's jaw was still tight, but his voice firm as he addressed the room. "As for the rest of you, we have eleven suspects currently at large. We believe they intend to take part in a massive, coordinated attack against the city. An attack designed to inflict maximum casualties."

The room went silent, the reality sinking in.

"Find them. I want no stone unturned, no corner unchecked. Leave them with nowhere to hide and once they're in the open, run them down. Now, go to work."

No one needed to be told twice.

Nick shot the captain a sideways glance. "Sir...?"

"I want you planning the raid with Winters, Wilde. It needs to go perfectly." Burke met his eyes. "Time is not our ally today."

"Right. You got it."

Judy nodded. "We'll stop them, sir."

"We have to, Hopps," the bear grumbled, dismissing them with a wave of his paw.

~o~o~o~

The Hinterland Building stood like a silent sentinel in the heart of Zootopia's financial district, its sheer, obsidian-tinted façade rising twenty stories above the surrounding streets. Unlike the iconic, glass-clad skyscrapers that made up the city's downtown core, the Hinterland Building seemed to swallow any light that touched its matte surface, reflecting nothing. To those who passed by, it seemed less like a structure and more like an absence - an unnatural void in Zootopia's shining skyline.

There were no outward-facing signs, no plaques, nothing to indicate who owned it or what business was conducted within. Officially, it housed a variety of financial firms, law offices, and consulting agencies. Unofficially, the building had a reputation - one shrouded in whispers and speculation. It was rumored to be a fortress of backroom dealings, a gathering place for those who did business on the blurry edges of legality.

Security was formidable, discreet but ever present. Cameras, nearly invisible against the matte black panels, tracked every movement in the vicinity. The front entrance, flanked by reinforced columns, was staffed by professionally dressed mammals whose smiles never reached their eyes. Keycard access was required beyond the lobby, and the few visitors permitted inside were always accompanied.

Twenty stories above, Mattias Longfellow paced his towering office, his hooves clicking sharply on the polished marble floor. Perched high above the chaos of the streets, the only source of light coming from the city skyline beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the dimly lit room was a stark contrast to the unraveling situation below.

News of Lewis Chamber's arrest had spread through their network at an alarming speed, and none of the reactions had been good.

From the moment the call had come in, his private line had been flooded with panicked messages, each more desperate than the last. The mammals involved in the operation were getting nervous, their carefully manufactured confidence beginning to crack. Some wanted to hold off the attack entirely, fearing the ZPD was already too close. Others, more skittish, wanted to cut ties and disappear altogether.

Weakness. Longfellow ground his teeth. Pitiful.

"That is unacceptable," he practically growled into the receiver, gripping the edge of his massive mahogany desk so tightly that the wood groaned slightly under the pressure. "He should've been released by now."

A muffled voice on the other end of the line tried to stammer out an explanation - something about legal complications, procedural delays - but he wasn't in the mood.

"Enough! I don't pay you for excuses. I want Lewis out of ZPD custody and out of the city before the parade begins."

He slammed the receiver down so hard that a sharp crack rang through the room. His chest heaved as he stepped away from the desk, sucking in slow, controlled breaths.

For a moment, he simply stood there, braced against the edge of his desk, the polished wood cool beneath his hooves. Slowly, he straightened and turned toward the massive window that framed the glittering expanse of Zootopia.

The city stretched out beneath him, glowing in the morning sun. On the surface, it looked untouchable - imposing skyscrapers, wide boulevards, the comforting promise of belonging drawing mammals in. But Longfellow knew better.

The cracks had always been there. All it'd taken was the right amount of pressure in the right places.

For years, he had worked to stoke the embers of fear and bigotry in the hearts of Zootopia's citizens. It hadn't been difficult. Fear was primal. It lurked in every mammal, waiting for an excuse to rise to the surface. And he had given them plenty of excuses.

The riots. The whispers of conspiracy. The media outlets he quietly funded, each feeding their audiences a steady diet of manufactured outrage and paranoia. He had poured gasoline on every flickering flame of division, nudging predators and prey further apart with every passing month.

And now, the city was primed for the final step. All it needed was the right push.

The attack would be catastrophic - not just in the immediate loss of life, but in the psychological damage it would inflict. Mammals coming together in the spirit of tolerance, just to be torn apart in a storm of fire and steel.

It wouldn't just be an act of terror. It would be a reckoning. Zootopia's fragile dream of unity would crumble under the weight of its own contradictions. Mammals would turn on each other, searching for someone to blame.

And in their panic, they would come to him.

His companies, his brands, his solutions. Security firms offering 'specialized protection; from the rising threat. Exclusive, members-only communities for those who could afford to live in 'safer environments'. Private policing services for neighborhoods that no longer trusted the ZPD to protect them.

It would be a market – it would be the market - and he'd be selling the only product anyone cared about.

Longfellow allowed himself a slow, satisfied breath.

The fools in City Hall still clung to their fantasies of peace and progress, convinced that they could hold the city together through goodwill alone. It was laughable. Unity - the very idea of it - was the weakest foundation imaginable. Society didn't function on unity. It functioned on power. Control. Fear.

His gaze swept over the skyline, the steel and glass towers gleaming in the morning sun, and he pictured what was to come.

Buildings wreathed in smoke. Streets littered with blood and debris. Mammals running, screaming, looking for someone, anyone, to protect them.

And, in the aftermath, a city reborn under his control.

"We'll see how united they are while their city burns," he murmured, a cruel smile curling at the edges of his mouth.

It was almost time.

~o~o~o~

The conference room was filled with officers, each gathered around the massive display of maps, documents, and blueprints. The SIU's latest intelligence reports were pinned to a board at the far end of the room, red circles marking key locations along the parade route. There was a weight to the air, a quiet tension that spoke to the knowledge that they were preparing for something huge.

Judy stood beside Nick, arms crossed as she studied the maps. "You're right. An attack anywhere else wouldn't make as much sense. If they hit the city center, they'll have maximum exposure and the highest number of casualties. It'll be absolute chaos."

"Particularly since the mayor still refuses to cancel the damn thing," Burke added, rubbing a paw over his face.

Nick scoffed. "Because why not dangle a juicy, slow-moving target in front of a pack of terrorists?"

Burke didn't even bother answering. Instead, he turned to Winters, who stood in front of the projector screen displaying blueprints of the Hinterland Building.

"At the risk of overstating things," Winters said, nodding to the screen, "this may be the most heavily fortified building I've ever seen."

The officers in the room murmured in agreement. The Hinterland Building's security was absurd. It wasn't just a business complex - it was a fortress.

"Bulletproof glass. Armored mag-lock security doors, " Nick muttered as he leaned in, studying the schematics. "What the hell? How did they get permits for all of this? Precinct One isn't even this reinforced."

Winters exhaled sharply. "They didn't get permits. Or if they did, they buried them so deep in bureaucracy no one ever noticed. This building was designed to withstand a siege, which tells us two things: It's housing something very valuable, and the mammals inside are expecting trouble."

Judy pointed at a particular section of the blueprints. "What's this?"

"Private elevator access." Winters' tone was grim. "Limited to keycard holders only. No stairs leading up to it, and security logs show that once you're inside, it's a direct ride to the top floors - no stops, no access panels, no way to force an override without setting off every alarm in the building."

Nick frowned. "Meaning that if we don't have a keycard, we're climbing twenty flights of stairs?"

Winters gave him a look. "We, Detective?"

Judy ignored them, turning toward the window. Something about the Hinterland Building had been nagging at her since they'd first started studying it.

Nick followed her gaze. "What's on your mind, Carrots?"

"Why are there so many antennae on the roof?"

"Hm?" Picking up a pair of binoculars, he peered at the looming structure across the skyline. "Huh...she's right. There are way too many cellular towers up there. Especially since there are some on the nearby buildings, too."

Winters walked up beside him, his arms crossed. "Meaning they're probably not just for cell service."

Judy turned sharply. "What do you mean?"

"Could be any number of things," Winters sighed. "They could be running encrypted comms, real-time satellite feeds, maybe even illegal signal interception."

"Or transmission," Nick added, ears pinning back as he lowered the binoculars. "Because a setup like that? It could send a whole lot of signals at once."

"What are you saying, Wilde?" Burke asked.

"That if someone absolutely, positively needed to set off multiple explosive devices across a large area, all at once..."

Winters' eyes widened as Burke turned back to the group, voice sharp. "Alright, listen up. We're relocating to Precinct One as our staging point. I want SWAT prepped and ready. We leave in ten."

As everyone filed out of the room, Burke turned toward Judy and Nick. "As for the two of y-"

"Sir, if you want us to say that we'll stay here at the SIU and not place ourselves in harm's way, we can do that," Nick interrupted smoothly. "But I think we both know it'd be a lie."

"Is that so?" Burke exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. He turned to Winters, who had been watching the pair quietly. "Sergeant?"

The snow leopard's expression was unreadable as he studied them, but Judy could see the way his gaze lingered on her. Winters had been one of her instructors at the ZPD Academy, and she hoped he knew she was no less determined to see this through than she'd been back then.

"Oh, for fuck's sake..." he grumbled, a moment later. With an exasperated sigh, he turned on his heel and stomped over to the armory cage. A few murmured words to the armorer later, he returned, tossing a pair of small-caliber weapons onto the table in front of them. "I assume you both remember your firearms training?"

Judy and Nick shared a glance, their confidence flickering just slightly as they picked up the sidearms. It was one thing to be issued a live firearm at the Academy or during annual re-qualification. It was another thing entirely to be handed one right before a high-risk raid.

"This is the real deal," he said, voice low but firm. "The mammals we're going after aren't screwing around, and neither are we."

Nick turned to Judy, holding out her weapon. "Carrots?"

She hesitated for only a moment before taking it. A brief image of blood on pavement flickered through her mind, but her grip didn't waver. With practiced ease, she checked the weapon over, ensuring it was ready before holstering it at her side.

"I'm good, Nick."

He watched her for a beat before giving a faint smile. "Glad to hear it. Just keep a cool head and you'll be fine."

Winters, meanwhile, had already turned back to his own weapon, checking his carbine with clinical efficiency. Without looking up, he muttered, "And try not to shoot any hostages."

"Wha-!" Judy's head snapped up. "That was one time!"

~o~o~o~

"Good afternoon," Bogo began, his deep voice carrying easily over the gathered officers in the briefing room. His eyes moved slowly over the crowd, taking in each individual standing before him.

"I look around this room," he continued, "and I see mammals who have had to endure one of the worst terrorist attacks in Zootopia's history. You have been bloodied. You have been beaten down. And yet here you are, standing ready to do your duty."

It was a sight that stirred something fierce in his chest - something far heavier than just duty or responsibility. Many of these officers bore fresh wounds from the attack on Precinct One, but none of them showed even a hint of hesitance. He saw slings, bandages, gauze, and the occasional crutch, yet every single one of them stood straight, their postures unwavering. The air was thick with determination, with a quiet, simmering fury barely held in check.

Bogo knew that fury well. It was the kind that took root after blood had been spilled. The kind that lingered long after the dust had settled, fueling an unshakable resolve.

He caught sight of Officer Delgato, his ear still wrapped in thick gauze, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with a still-bruised Fangmeyer. Officer Grizzoli, his arm in a sling, had an expression like carved stone. In the back, Francine sat with her leg propped up on another chair, her cast covered in hastily scribbled messages of support.

And their eyes all gleamed with the same fire.

It made something tighten in Bogo's throat. He had been hard on these officers. Some days, perhaps too hard. But they were still here, ready to fight for their city.

Pride didn't quite seem a strong enough word for it.

"I believe the officers of Precinct One represent some of the finest mammals this city has to offer. You have all stood against adversity and met it head-on. And make no mistake, our enemies know this. They have seen what you are capable of, and yet they still believe they can break us." His eyes darkened, and his next words came out like a low growl. "They are wrong."

"Godsdamn right!" Wolford growled from the back of the room. "They want a piece of this city? They gotta go through us."

"Fuckin' eh," McHorn rumbled in agreement as, one by one, the officers of Precinct One echoed the sentiment. There were murmurs of agreement, a few determined nods, and in some cases, quiet fists tightening at their sides.

Bogo let them have their moment before speaking again, his voice firm but filled with conviction.

"For those unaware, this is Sergeant Matthew Winters," Bogo announced, gesturing toward the snow leopard standing against the wall. Winters stood with his usual stony demeanor, arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable. But despite his lack of outward emotion, his presence alone commanded the room's attention.

"Sergeant Winters has been with the ZPD for nearly twenty years, both with SWAT and as the Academy's Lead Tactical Instructor. I'm sure many officers in this room will recall training under him."

A few murmurs rippled through the crowd. Judy noticed Clawhauser giving Winters a sidelong glance - perhaps remembering a particularly brutal training drill from his early days. Others shifted in their seats, a few nodding in recognition.

"While most of you will be providing coverage at the parade, he will be leading the raid on the Hinterland Building," Bogo continued. "As such, any orders he gives in that respect carry my complete authority." With that, he stepped back from the podium. "The floor is yours, Sergeant."

The snow leopard exhaled slowly before speaking.

"The city is changing," Winters began, his voice low but deliberate. He let his gaze travel across the room, meeting the eyes of as many officers as he could. "And, through no fault of their own, Detectives Hopps and Wilde have become symbols of that change. They have broken no Zootopian laws and violated no ZPD regulations. By any reasonable definition, they have done nothing wrong. Despite this, there are mammals in this city who would not only see them dead for the choices they've made, but would extend that same judgment to anyone who doesn't fit their narrow worldview."

The energy in the room shifted. Officers exchanged glances, some grim, others frustrated. More than a few looked toward Judy and Nick, their expressions heavy with sympathy and understanding.

"This is just some of what we've managed to collect." Winters turned slightly, gesturing toward a nearby table practically overflowing with captured evidence.

A board stood propped behind it, covered in letters - some typed, some written in crude, barely legible scrawls. A few were carefully penned in delicate cursive, masking their venomous contents in politeness. Others didn't even bother hiding their intent.

'TRAITORS.'
'YOU DON'T BELONG HERE.'
'ZPD IS DEAD.'
'I HOPE YOU BURN WITH THE CITY.'

Judy had seen them before, but that didn't make it any easier.

"And together with several key witness statements," Winters continued. "They paint a very clear picture."

He reached into a folder and pulled out a single sheet of paper. He held it up, reading it aloud.

"'Unity is a lie. You can't force prey and predator together without a reckoning. The time is coming.'" He set it down and picked up another. "'Zootopia is already dead. We're just here to bury the corpse.'"

A hushed murmur ran through the crowd.

"There is another attack coming," Winters' voice cut through the room like a knife. "A strike at the very core of Zootopia by a collection of its most bigoted and hateful mammals, driven to stomp out what they can't understand and won't accept." He leveled a hard glare on the room. "And now, a single mammal has seen fit to steer that hatred toward his own ends."

He let those words settle, his amber eyes scanning every face before him.

"This city is our responsibility," he said finally. "And if you wear that badge, if you took an oath to serve and protect, then this is your fight, whether you wanted it or not." He let his arms drop to his sides. "Let me say this now, in no uncertain terms. If a conflict exists between your personal beliefs and your sworn oath as ZPD officers, you will set it aside. Because when that attack comes - and it will come - we intend to be standing in its way."

END PART 11