The Fire Triangle, A Zootopia Fanfiction -- Part One: Fuel - 39

Disclaimer: Zootopia stories, characters, settings, and properties belong to the Walt Disney Co. This story is written under Fair Use Copyright laws.

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The Fire Triangle—A Zootopia Fanfiction

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Part One:

Fuel

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Chapter 4 – The Wizard of Chaos

(Continued...Pt. 8)

Seth Whitepaugh's reaction to Gully's report could be summed up in just three words.

"He...did...WHAT?"

The wolverine was not in a good mood—to put it mildly. What made it even worse was the fact that only a short while ago, his outlook had been entirely different; things had been developing nicely up to that point.

Now he wanted to sink his claws into something...or someone. Could Jack La Peigne have really have acted that impetuously...NOW, of all times?

Yes he could, Whitepaugh concluded testily; it wouldn't be the first, or the worst such instance.

He spoke into his bluefang again.

"And you heard all this from Clawson?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

200 miles away, 'King' Cole Gully looked briefly at the door and then glanced at the prostrate form of Laura Clawson, slumbering fitfully beneath the covers of the hospital bed. How should he present this? Straight up, no frills he swiftly decided; that was the only way to talk to Seth Whitepaugh.

A part of him still couldn't believe he had dared to call Aker's much-feared senior operative on the emergency hotline. But if what he'd heard was true...

"Yes sir, but I honestly can't vouch for the accuracy of what I heard; I don't think Clawson knew what she was saying, Mr. Whitepaw; she took a pretty good knock on the head from that savage bunny. For all I know, she could have imagined the whole thing." There was silence on the other end and he added quickly, "Just the same, I thought I should notify headquarters immediately...er, just in case."

There was more silence and for a second or two, Gully wondered if the call had been dropped, but then the other wolverine asked him, "And you're certain that no one else heard what she said?"

"Yes sir," Gully answered at once, relieved that finally he was able to relate something he knew for a fact, "We were alone in here at the time." He paused, wondering if he should say it now, but then decided it could wait. Instead he told Whitepaugh, "They've sedated her sir, so it's not likely she'll be saying anything else, but I'm keeping watch just the same." Okay now, now tell him, "However I should mention that errr, I'm not supposed to be in here Mr. Whitepaugh. If a doctor or a nurse walks in and finds me..."

"We'll handle it," Whitepaugh told him, snapping his fingers and pointing towards a nutria seated at one of the work-stations. "You there, our operative Gully will require access to operative Clawson. She's in Pawvidence Memorial Hospital, Bunnyburrow at the moment. He's to be granted full admission to her room, 24/7; take care of it."

"Yes sir." The big rodent nodded once and spoke into his headset. "Look up and dial number, Pawvidence Memorial Hospital...Bunnyburrow...I need to speak to the senior staff member on duty..."

Whitepaugh listened for a second and then spoke again to the other wolverine.

"You've done well, Gully. All right, I want you to stay with her and report back to me the minute you hear anything else. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Gully answered, so smartly that Whitepaugh thought he heard heels clicking. He was a good mammal that one, if a little bit of brown-noser.

"And of course, you're to say nothing of this conversation to anyone," he told the young field operative, and then paused for effect before adding, "To anyone! Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly sir," Gully answered, and from the tone of his reply, Seth Whitepaugh knew that he'd gotten the message across; 'to anyone' included Jack La Peigne.

"Right, keep me informed," he said, "Whitepaugh Out."

He rang off, and switched to the PA app. A moment later his voice echoed through the control center. "Attention all fursonell; the conversation that I just had is not to leave this room." He paused as if a thought had just then entered his head, "As a matter of fact, as far as any of you are concerned, I didn't talk to anyone just now; there WAS no conversation." He gave them a few seconds to register his words and then allowed his tone to soften until it become almost congenial. "I know I can count on your co-operation."

A moment later, Seth Whitepaugh was inside his private office, having left instructions not to be disturbed. Like Jack la Peigne's private domain, it was cavernous and fitted with the latest high-tech gadgetry; unlike his superior's office, the furnishing here were austere, almost Spartan; a dash of chrome, a splash of oak and that was it; two chairs, a simple, modern desk, a wall of bookshelves, and a combination couch and futon bed where the wolverine sometimes curled up after pulling a double all-nighter. No knick-knacks adorned the shelves; no pictures graced the walls—except for one. It showed Whitepaugh in military garb, posing in company with his squad, the only reminder of his past that he allowed in presence. All of the faces in the photo except for his had been digitally obliterated.

No one who came in here had ever dared to ask about that picture, not even Jack La Peigne, (but then he probably knew most of the story anyway.)

Whitepaugh seated himself behind the desk and leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head and letting his eyes turn upwards, towards the ceiling.

He had known much of what happened in Bunnyburrow even before the call from Gully had come in; a rabbit had gone savage at the Carrot Days Festival but had already been subdued and was now on his way to the hospital. Jack La Peigne was unhurt, but one of the Aker security fursonell was down. Dr. H had been dispatched to fly out to Bunnyburrow on the Aker executive helicopter, bringing her with a supply of Morningmew—and she was supposed to arrive there yesterday, (Jack LaPeigne's fursonal orders.) At first Whitepaugh had been inclined to consider the matter settled. No worries, his boss had everything under control.

That had all changed the instant Gully pinged him on the emergency hotline. As of 20 minutes ago, the Bunnyburrow incident was back at priority #1.

Whitepaugh puffed out his cheeks and blew a stuttering breath of air. There was still so much he didn't know. For example how the heck had that bunny managed to get hold of a Nighthowler pellet meant for...what was that fox's name again? Oh yes, Nick Wilde. And then why had Jack La Peigne had intervened fursonally, taking on the savage rabbit all by himself.

Yes, he had; it was one of the few things Seth Whitepaugh knew for certain. Gully—and Racius too—had put an end that fight; hitting the crazed bunny with trank-darts just as he was about to.... What on earth had prompted his boss to take such an incredible risk?

And WHY had he tried to slip that fox a Nighthowler Mickey in the first place? And right in the middle of the Carrot Days Festival! That was the 64 $Billion question—literally, in light of what the wolverine had discovered over the past two days. The more he mulled it over, the less sense it all made. It was like a middle-school prank gone wrong in the worst possible way.

"This could put the whole Fire Triangle operation in jeopardy." Whitepaugh thought to himself, and then asked out loud of no one in particular, "What the heck HAPPENED out there?"

The answer came to him at once, an answer of sorts anyway. He wasn't going to find out by sitting here and stewing about it.

He spoke briefly into his headset. "Operations, this is Whitepaugh, what is the status on the Aker executive helicopter?"

A few seconds of dead air followed, and then a voice came on the line.

"Just lifted off from LPN Meadowlands, sir. Dr. H is confirmed on board."

"Very well," the wolverine replied, and drummed his fingers on the desktop in a slow, steady beat. How far out of the way would it take them? Fifteen, twenty-five minutes at most, he decided.

He spoke into the headset again.

"Contact the pilot and tell him to divert to our downtown HQ and pick me up on the helipad." Anticipating a protest, he added crisply, "I take full responsibility."

"Yes sir, done and done," the voice answered and rang off.

Whitepaugh listened to the silence on the line for a moment and then leaned back in his chair again. Altering Jack La Peigne's direct orders was a chancy move, even for him. Nonetheless it had to be done, the wolverine concluded. He needed to get to the bottom of whatever was happening in Bunnyburrow and right now.

He pushed himself up out of his seat and strode briskly towards the door.

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"But he was given the antidote!"

The thought had been on Bonnie Hopps mind ever since she'd watched her brother Terry being loaded into the ambulance. Only now did she finally give it vent.

"He was given an antidote but not THE antidote," Jack LaPeigne patted her paw, "not the one we have now."

They were sitting in the ER waiting room, watching what seemed like an endless parade of doctors, nurses, interns, and orderlies streaming back on forth in front of them. This being Bunnyburrow, most of the hospital fursonell were rabbits, with one or two larger mammals in the mix, along with the occasional rodent. The light in the reception area was sharp and antiseptic, so was the air.

Bonnie looked wholly unsatisfied with Jack's answer, so did Judy and practically every other member of the Hopps family present.

The big bunny got up out of his seat and turned to face them, chewing on his lip for a second. This was going to require a careful explanation.

He rubbed his nose with a finger.

"Look, I'm not any kind of a medical expert, but I'll tell you what I know. It all goes back to the savage predator crisis. At first, like everyone else, we had no idea that Nighthowler serum was the causative agent." He showed them his pawlms, as if demonstrating that he had nothing to hide. "Why should we? Why would anyone want to dart predators with that stuff in the first place?"

Everyone nodded and the big bunny nodded back. Then he looked over at Judy, (giving Nick Wilde only a token acknowledgement. ) "But when you and your partner there finally cracked the case, it was the breakthrough we'd been looking for. Nighthowler, I knew that stuff. My father had successfully treated a case of Nighthowler poisoning before I was born and I still had all his notes and papers. From them, we—by 'we' I mean everyone at LPN Pharma—from them we were able to reproduce the treatment my father had used on your uncle."

He let out a small, grumbling noise.

"Only when we tried it on the predators Mayor Bellwether darted, there was no effect; they remained in their savage state. Long story short, we ended up having to reverse engineer my father's antidote to discover the active ingredients. I won't bore you with the details, but my father had developed his Nighthowler antidote from a mushroom called the Splayfoot. You know what that is I'm sure." He looked at Stu, who nodded quickly.

"Anyway," Jack went on, "We did some research and found out that it exists in a higher concentration in the berries of the Morningmew vine, although also in a slightly different form."

"Morningmew?" Nick Wilde's ears went up as he spoke for the first time, "Seriously? That stuff's considered a nuisance plant in the Rainforest district."

"I know, right?" La Peigne offered the fox a (forced) wry grin, "There's at least two lawn and garden companies back in Zootopia that specialize in Morningmew eradication; it's that big of a pest." He turned back to the others. "In its raw form the extract of the Morningmew berry has no effect on Nighthowler poisoning; we found that out right away. But it was the right place to start, and eventually we developed Morningmew serum that completely reversed the effects of the Nighthowler darts." He allowed himself a serene half-smile, "The technical name is almost unpronounceable so I just call it Morningmew. One thing I can tell you is that it's a lot harder to synthesize than the Nighthowler serum. Your little friend Doug could never have pulled it off, not by himself and not with the backyard lab set up he had in that subway car." He was looking at Judy again.

All the bunnies' noses had started to twitch again, but it was Nick Wilde who asked the question.

"So why don't you just give Carrots' uncle some of that...Morningmew serum right now?"

Jack tensed, and almost took a step towards Nick. For hint of second, the fox felt his hackles start to rise, but then as if someone had waved a wand, the big rabbit instantly calmed himself.

"Nick, I know it doesn't bother Judy when you call her Carrots," he said, "but it bothers me. An incident in my youth let's say, and leave it at that."

"I understand, I'll keep to myself from now on," the red fox said, raising his paw in a Junior Ranger Scout salute. (What else could he do? Every eye in the room was turned on him, and the looks he was getting were not friendly...except from Judy; her face was almost sympathetic.)

"But to answer your question," Jack La Peigne said, moving the conversation forward, "If Terry...errr, Haredigg had been hit by a Nighthowler pellet, then yes we could give him a shot of Morningmew and he'd be good as new in no time." He paused and let his mouth pull to one side, "Only that isn't what happened; we don't know what happened. And until we do...heck, even if we did, it's not my call to make. If you'll pardon the cheap cultural reference, dangit Jim, I'm a businessmammal, not a doctor."

A wave of sniggers circled through the group, but then the big bunny's mouth turned downwards and his nose began to twitch.

"One other thing I know; what I saw at the Carrot Days Festival was NOT from the effects of a Nighthowler dart." He looked at Bonnie, "Did you see how your brother Terry almost had me for breakfast back there? He was learning from me, turning my own tactics against me; we haven't seen that happen before, not in any other instance of Nighthowler poisoning."

He shuddered slightly, a completely spontaneous gesture...the only one he'd made so far. (As a matter of fact, right up until he'd made that revelation Jack LaPeigne been lying through his teeth.)

But then he felt his ear go up and saw several other sets of ears also standing to attention; somewhere to the north the faint thrum of a helicopter was just becoming audible.

He looked as his watch; nearly 30 minutes late, which could only mean one thing. There was another passenger on board that helicopter besides Doctor H—and he didn't need to be psychic to guess who it was.

"Only one way to deal with this." the big bunny swiftly decided and that was to meet it head on.

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"I'm sorry sir, Terry Haredigg was admitted through the Emergency Room. You'll have to go around to the ER Entrance to see him."

Conor watched as Junior Hopps thumped his foot in aggravation. He could hardly blame the guy; it had taken the dimbulb deer behind the reception desk at least half an hour to retrieve that information—they could have gotten quicker answers from a sloth—and she sounded about as sorry as the repo mammal about to tow your car.

"C'mon kids, let's go," Junior said, and led them back outside to the parking lot.

Like so many other medical facilities, Pawvidence Memorial Hospital was built on a hilltop or, this being Bunnyburrow, it was built INTO a hilltop. You could never mistake this place for a homestead though; the parts of it showing above ground were as boxy and utilitarian as a tool-chest. Steel, stone, and tinted-glass windows; you could tell you were looking at a hospital from a half-mile away.

And also like every other hospital, it was constructed with the Emergency Room entrance clear over on the other side of the building from the main entrance.

Fortunately there was a parking garage adjacent to the ER; not so fortunate was the fact that every space on the first three levels was taken, and the only open spot on level four was a football field's distance from the elevator.

All of this plus the runaround they'd gotten at the reception desk combined to bring Junior Hopps to a slow boil by the time they reached it. Conor, for his part took it all in stride...until the elevator door opened and he saw what was parked in the space beside the stairwell, the one marked 'Service Vehicles Only'.

It was an armored TAC-Vehicle bearing the letters ASM, and it looked very much like one he'd seen three years ago—parked at the perimeter of the police-cordon encircling Finagles Dance Club, battened down and ready to move in. When he spotted the animal in the ASM uniform lounging by the ER entrance, the young fox's anxiety ticked upwards by an extra two notches...but only for half a second. This wolverine was not one of the animals who had taken part in the Finagles raid—Conor would know those goons anywhere. His appearance and scent were both completely unfamiliar to the young silver fox...and the feeling was apparently mutual. Racius never so much as glanced in his direction as he and the others went past.

Conor would have felt considerably less reassured had he known that one of passengers on the helicopter about to touch down behind the ER was also wolverine. And not only was this animal a veteran of the Finagles raid, he was the operative who'd been fursonally charged with returning the young fox to Aker's custody; Seth Whitepaugh would recognize him instantly if they met. In all the time since then, he had never forgotten his target's scent. (And Conor had never forgotten his odor—or Jack La Peigne's)

And speaking of the big rabbit, he was practically right on the other side of the door from where Conor now stood, and if he didn't know fox scent from frankincense, he was all too aware that the kid he'd met those many moons ago, (and who'd later given him all those headaches) was a silver fox...a silver fox with burning amber eyes that he had never encountered before or since.

Pawvidence Memorial Hospital actually had two separate entrances to the ER, both of them fronted by automatic doors and both of them placed at either end of a short, L-shaped corridor. The first door, the one used most often, fronted on the ambulance entrance while the second door, the one employed far less frequently, opened towards the hospital's helipad.

And now, at the exact same instant that Junior moved in front of the door to the ambulance entrance, Jack LaPeigne stepped in front of the door to the helipad.

They slid back simultaneously, releasing an explosive gust of helicopter backwash that blew through the ER entrance corridor like a low-budget hurricane effect. The doors were open for perhaps two seconds, but in that short space of time, the corridor was swept clean of any scent...including that of Jack LaPeigne.

If either he or Conor had looked right then, they might have caught sight of each other, but both of them were had their eyes shielded and their faces turned aside.

Then Jack moved quickly through the helipad door with Judy and Nick right behind him. It slid shut immediately and the wind-tunnel shut off just like that.

Judy Hopps managed about three steps, and then stopped in her tracks; (so did Nick.)

A familiar figure was disembarking from the helicopter, a mammal she was anything but happy to see again. No, not the wolverine, it was the other mustelid with him. She was a honey-badger, none other than Dr. Madge Honeybadger, Mayor Lionheart's former partner in cover-up.

Judy felt her nose twitching as she recalled what she knew of the not-so-good doctor's recent history.

Madge Honeybadger had managed to avoid jail time through that most venerable of all legal tactics, a plea bargain. Specifically, she had offered to testify against Leodore Lionheart in exchange for immunity from prosecution. The episode that followed had been Judy's first foray into the Byzantine world of courthouse politics. Ordinarily, the honey-badger's offer would have been laughed out of the judge's chambers; with or without her assistance, the Zootopia Attorney General's office had more than enough evidence to convict her former employer. But then to everyone's astonishment, former Mayor Lionheart had entered a plea of 'not guilty'—and City Hall had stepped in. The City fathers (and mothers) already had enough egg on their collective faces over having been played by Dawn Bellwether; the last thing they'd needed right then was a courtroom carnival and everything that came with it. And so the Attorney General's office had been persuaded to come to terms with Dr. Honeybadger.

On the surface the accommodation had appeared to be an exercise in needless overkill; in fact it was a shrewd gambit. When Lionheart heard that his 'medical advisor' had flipped, he immediately changed his plea to guilty, no trial required, thank you very much.

At the press conference announcing the plea-bargain, Zootopia's then Attorney General, a red kangaroo named Tucker Clagg had made much of the fact that just prior to her arrest, Dr. Honeybadger had been overheard urging Leodore Lionheart to come clean with the public about what was happening. He had even played back part of the recording Judy Hopps had made of the conversation between her and the former Mayor.

When Judy had gotten wind of the deal, it had taken every single ounce of Nick Wilde's powers of persuasion to get her to calm down.

"Yes, she said that Nick...but then what happened when my cell-phone rang, how clean did she want to come then?"

The answer of course, was that Dr. Honeybadger had initiated a lockdown and a security sweep. And though she had always insisted afterwards that if she'd known one of the intruders was a police officer she never would have done so, Judy Hopps had remained stoutly unconvinced of her sincerity. "That phony would have said anything to save her own pelt!"

And now here she was again...and in the employment of Jack La Peigne.

Judy felt her face stiffening; the big bunny's halo seemed to slip just a mite.

LaPeigne didn't notice; at the moment, his attention was focused on the helicopter's other passenger.

"You don't seem surprised to see me, sir." Seth Whitepaugh told him, when they came within speaking distance.

"Should I be?" the big bunny asked, raising his voice to be heard over the helicopter blades; though they had finally begun to slow they were still producing a low grade racket. "Frankly, I'd have been surprised if you hadn't shown up," he said.

The wolverine gave a non-committal shrug and Jack said to him, "May I assume you want to talk privately?"

"You may," Whitepaugh answered, equally unsurprised that his boss had correctly guessed he was on board the helicopter.

The big rabbit nodded and pointed towards the parking garage. "We can talk inside the tac-vehicle." He said, and then to the wolverine's astonishment, he turned to speak to the bunny standing behind him.

"I'm sorry, this won't wait. Can you excuse me for a few minutes?"

"Of course."

"No problem."

Nick and Judy answered simultaneously, while Seth Whitepaugh fought to contain his surprise.

Jack La Peigne...ASKING to be excused, instead of simply taking his leave because he felt like it? There was one for the Believe It or Not files!

And one other thing; the big rabbit had been speaking only to the doe-bunny just now; the fox he had all but ignored.

What was going on here?

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"You shouldn't have brought them here, son."

Bonnie Hopps had taken Junior aside and was speaking in a hushed voice. Just the same, both Conor and Erin were able to make out her words. (It's pretty hard not to be overheard in a hospital waiting area.)

"The doctors aren't letting anyone but the immediate family see your Uncle Terry right now," she went on to explain, "Sweet cheez n' crackers I had to argue for ten minutes before they'd let your FATHER in to see him...and there's nothing to see anyway. They've got him heavily sedated and..."

"All right Mom, all right." Stu Hopps Jr. was raising his paws in defeat. "How is he, anyway?"

Bonnie's nose wrinkled in annoyance. Hadn't she just told him that her brother was under sedation?

"There's an expert just arrived from Zootopia to help us out," She said, pointing in the direction of the helipad. She arched an eyebrow, "and the best thing we can do right now is just to stay out of his way."

Junior got the unspoken message; that went double for him and triple for his two young companions. He turned and spoke to them.

"Okay kids, looks like we're out of here. What do you want to do, head on back to the Warren or to head on over to the Carrot Days festival?"

"Home," Erin answered immediately, ignoring the young fox standing beside her. "I need to rest up a little before the big dance tonight."

"Yeah, we do," Conor chimed in giving her a caustic sideways glance. The truth of the matter was, he couldn't care less about any stupid dance, but there was no way he was letting Little Miss Snowdrop steal the conversation...again!

They made their exit scant seconds before Judy and Nick came in through the other door in company with Dr. Honeybadger.

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Jack closed the door to the tactical-vehicle, locking it firmly and removing a carrot-pen from his pocket. This one was very different than the writing instrument routinely carried by Officer Judy Hopps. It was longer and slimmer for one thing, and for another it was fashioned out of gleaming copper-gold, with tinted platinum for the greens. More to the point, this carrot-pen had no voice recorder function but was built to an entirely different purpose.

He flicked the switch and set it on the dashboard, while Seth Whitepaugh nodded in appreciation.

"Can't be too careful, not even when you're inside an armored vehicle with sound-shielding."

Then he said to the big bunny, "So what happened?" dispensing as usual with any preamble. It seemed it not to matter at all that he was speaking to his superior.

In point of fact, it did matter...but not in any way that an observer might have expected. Jack LaPeigne not only permitted his senior operative to talk to him that way, he endorsed and even encouraged it.

"I need one animal around me who isn't afraid to give me the straight story, even if it's something I don't want to hear," He had once told Seth Whitepaugh.

Now he spread his paws in an almost helpless gesture.

"I messed up, Whitepaugh, I let my emotions get the better of me and acted without thinking. Between that buttinski arctic fox Dimitri Oloshenko and our difficulties Down Under..."

He went on give the wolverine an unvarnished account of the morning's events, beginning with his arrival at the Guilford estate and ending with his arrival at the hospital. He spared nothing and pulled no punches, least of all the ones directed at himself.

"I didn't think it through, I admit that, Whitepaugh. I completely forgot that I'd ordered Gully and Racius to stow their weapons, and it never occurred to me that someone else might get hold of the 'special' blueberry." He looked away muttering, "I'm just glad it wasn't Judy."

Whitepaugh pretended not to hear, but secretly filed away the big bunny's words for later. He had said 'Judy' not 'Hopps'

"How is Clawson, by the way?" he asked LaPeigne. (He already knew, but didn't want his boss to know that he knew.)

"Minor concussion; she's resting comfortably, under sedation." The big bunny answered, looking uncharacteristically guilty for a second.

"Good," Whitepaugh nodded, filing that away as well, "and how about you sir?" he nodded downward at the big bunny's ankle, now concealed beneath the leg of a fresh pair of Docker pants.

La Peigne flexed his foot and stamped it lightly.

"No worries, just a little sprain; they taped it up and gave me some painkillers. I hardly notice it now."

"Good," the wolverine answered again. That was far from his biggest concern, but he wanted to give his superior the chance to volunteer the information before having to ask about it.

The big bunny did not disappoint him.

"No doubt you're wondering why I chose to take on that savage rabbit all by myself, Whitepaugh. There are two answers to that question; number one, there was no one else available. All of the Sheriff's deputies and most of our security fursonell were on the other side of the festival grounds, breaking up a brawl. Secondly," he looked straight into his senior operative's eyes, "It was my fault, Whitepaugh...and that made it my responsibility to make things right. End of story."

The wolverine met La Peigne's gaze and held it. While the big rabbit's words didn't exactly ring hollow, there was something a little too defiant in his tone. 'I dare you to step across that line!'

Seth Whitepaugh decided quickly not to step across it; if he did, he suspected that LaPeigne might exercise his prerogative to pull rank.

But then the bunny told him, "The good news Whitepaugh is that Aker is in the clear, at least for the moment."

The wolverine cocked his head to one side, "Sir?" All right, this was something he hadn't been expecting.

Jack shrugged and threw up his paws.

"It seems the bunny that went savage at the Carrot Days Festival was none other than a certain Terry Haredigg. That name sound familiar to you?"

It did and Whitepaugh sat up in his chair stunned.

"The same Terry Haredigg who...?"

"The same Terry Haredigg that my father treated for Nighthowler poisoning," La Peigne finished for him, "and because of that we have no need of a cover story; everyone is already convinced that he had some kind of flashback episode, a belief that I've instructed Dr. Honeybadger to foster at every opportunity."

Seth Whitepaugh frowned slightly. Dr. H hadn't mentioned anything about that on the flight down from Zootopia...but then he hadn't really asked her. Still, if La Peigne was right, then Aker had dodged a bullet—perhaps only through sheer, dumb luck, but a miss is still a miss.

It was as if the big bunny had read his mind, or perhaps he simply read it in the wolverine's face. He said, "I know, I know, nobody gets that lucky more than once. Believe me Whitepaugh, I've learned my lesson, I'll never fool around with Nighthowler like that again." He slapped at his injured leg, "You can take that to any bank you want." And then without warning he looked up. "How did you find out I planted a Nighthowler pellet in those blueberries anyway?" (Of course Whitepaugh knew that, or else he wouldn't be here.)

It was an old and favored tactic of Jack la Peigne's, pretend to be disarming and then abruptly change the subject and ask a penetrating question. However if there was any animal that knew how to deal with it, it was the wolverine sitting across from him.

"Sir, have you forgotten about all those drone cameras we have patrolling the festival?" he asked, and watched as the big bunny face-pawlmed himself.

"It's been handled Mr. La Peigne," Whitepaugh informed the rabbit smoothly, "As of right now, the footage no longer exists, and no one is going to talk about it."

Of course the footage had never existed and no one was going to talk about it because no one had seen it; but it was that or implicate Laura Clawson, and he wasn't about to hit her for a sacrifice fly. It wasn't her fault she'd suffered a concussion and besides, Clawson was a fellow wolverine and while Seth Whitepaugh was no speciest, he believed in taking care of his own...always. (He had already made arrangements to have her moved to the company's Meadowlands facility as soon as she was able to travel, out of earshot of anyone not associated with Aker.)

But now that he knew all the down and dirty, it was time for the wolverine to deliver some news of his own.

"There's another reason why I wanted to come here fursonally Mr. LaPeigne; the information you asked me to check out has been confirmed and verified."

Now it was the bunny sitting up in HIS chair.

"All of it?" he asked, staring.

"Yes sir," the wolverine was nodding tightly, "Mr. Big, the diamond, Rafaj Brothers Jewelers, all of it."

"Son of a sweet..." Jack started to say, but then he slumped back down in his seat, eyeing the wolverine moodily.

"So now, I have decision to make," he said, tapping his index fingers together.

"Yes sir, and it's yours and yours alone." Whitepaugh reminded him.

Jack looked at him sharply for a second; coming from anyone else, he would have read it as an attempt to duck their share of the responsibility if things went south. Not Seth Whitepaugh though, not this wolverine; he had linked his fate with that of his employer practically from day one.

He said, "Yes, and I'm prepared to make that decision Whitepaugh, but first I want your thoughts on the matter." He allowed himself an ironic smile, "I've made enough impulsive choices for one day."

"Well sir," the wolverine answered, "If we go now, it's a risky move to be sure, but at least it's a risk we know. If we could be certain of how things will stand a year, even six months from now, I'd counsel you to hold off."

"But of course we can't know that, Whitepaugh." The big bunny finished for him, "Go on."

"One thing I can be certain of Mr. LaPeigne," the wolverine continued, "is that if we decide to move on this now, then we need to move on it right now; our window of opportunity won't stay open for very much longer. If either of those two jackals decide to tell the ZPD about the Red Pig or the diamond they sold, then that's all she wrote, as the mammal said."

"Yes, right," the big bunny responded, and fell into a short, brooding silence with his paws clasped together, considering what the wolverine had just told him, together with everything else he knew.

"Not enough information," he thought, "I don't have enough data to make this decision rationally—so what is my gut telling me? It's telling me to say 'pass', but is that my instincts talking or just me being rattled over my mistake with that Nighthowler pellet? All right, supposing that hadn't happened, what would I do then? Think Jack...think!"

He looked up suddenly, meeting the wolverine's eyes.

"We go." he said.

Whitepaugh nodded as if this were the answer he'd been expecting all along. (It probably was.)

"Very good sir." He said, and LaPeigne pointed in the direction of the helipad. With the big decision out of the way he seemed to know exactly where to go next.

"All right then, I want you back on that helicopter and on your way back to headquarters ASAP." He flashed that ironic smile again, "It's like you said Whitepaugh, if we're going to move on this, we need to move NOW. So get yourself back to Zootopia and issue the order—Implement Fire Triangle Phase One, effective immediately."