The Fire Triangle, A Zootopia Fanfiction -- Part One: Fuel - 6

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 2 – Taking The Bull By The Horns

(Continued...pt. 2)

Inside the bullpen, things were pretty much the same as they'd been in the lobby—with one notable exception. If looks could kill, the one Francine Trunkaby gave to Nick and Judy as they passed her by would have wiped out half the room. The fox just insouciantly flipped down his eyeshades but Judy couldn't help being bothered.

She had known something was coming of course; nobody gets on the fast track to career advancement without drawing at least a little resentment—and she and Nick had been offered their chance at the detective bureau over the heads of not a few cops with both more experience and higher rank...including a certain cow elephant.

But this was different; this wasn't just a case of simple jealousy, it was envy mixed with species prejudice. And when you threw in what had gone down in Dr. Hocico's office only a short while ago, the upshot was an even more noxious brew. Without meaning to—certainly without wanting to—she and Nick had just made their first enemy in the department, and it didn't help much that Francine Trankaby was hugely popular with her fellow officers.

Judy glanced over at Nick, thinking, "We made a mistake back there, fox; we came down way too hard on that elephant. And one of these days, it's going to cost us."

She would have to discuss this with him—later when they could talk privately. Francine's humiliation had occurred in private, not in public; no one else knew and no one else needed to know about her spying. Perhaps even at this late date, there was still some way the three of them could bury the hatchet.

Judy quickened her pace towards the front of the room, drawing curious a glance from Nick—until he noted the clock above the podium. The delay inside Dr. Hocico's office had taken longer than he'd realized; The Chief would be arriving any second...and when he did, everyone had better be in their seats.

Some modifications to the bullpen's furnishings had occurred since Nick and Judy had joined the ZPD; two newer chairs now graced the front table, tall enough for the fox and bunny to see the lectern without having to stand on their seats.

At almost the very instant they pulled up their chairs, the hippo Dan Higgins called, "Atten-SHUN!" and the side door to the bullpen swung open. As Chief Bogo ducked his way inside the bullpen, he was greeted by the usual round of whoops, hoots, and pounding of fists on tables. And just as typically, he seemed to find the display irritating.

"Right, right," he rumbled taking his place at the podium, "Quiet down everyone."

They all hushed up at once. Bogo nodded curtly and then slipped on his half-moon reading glasses, at the same time reaching with a hoof to his right.

"Looks like a slow morning for a change." Nick Wilde observed under his breath. The clipboard Higgins was passing to the Chief seemed to hold considerably fewer sheets of paper than normal.

"Smile when you say that, fox." Judy whispered, knocking wood under the table with her left paw. A lot could still happen before the day was over.

"First order of business," the Chief was saying, flipping to the first page and adjusting his spectacles, "As some of you are no doubt aware, the department pulled off a major undercover sting yesterday morning, and it's only right that I offer my thanks and congratulations to all the officers involved." He leaned forward, peering over the tops of his glasses, "But I won't, because I've got better things to do with my time."

Judy glanced to her right, and was relieved to note that her partner was keeping mum.

Nick had learned to do that after making a 'clever-fox' comeback one too many times during a morning brief—and had been slapped with a week's parking duty for his troubles. And just to make sure he had gotten the point, Bogo had further ordered him to wear a meter-maid's cap for the duration of his assignment; after that, the fox learned to curb his enthusiasm.

But even then he'd had to appreciate that Bogo had disciplined him UN-officially...meaning nothing had appeared on his service record. It had seemed like very cold comfort to the fox at the time, but now that he and Judy were up for a spot on the detective bureau, he was profoundly grateful for the Chief's benevolence.

That, more than anything else, was why he was keeping his mouth shut at the moment.

The Chief meanwhile had flipped to the second page.

"Right then, Snarlov, Swinton, and Grizzoli. We've had a call from the Muktuk Cold Storage warehouse in Tundratown; they tell us someone's been possibly casing their establishment over the past two nights. Get over there and see what you can find out. Swinton, you'll review their security camera footage."

"Yes sir," the trio responded in unison and came forward to receive their assignment papers. They did not however head for the exit but instead returned to their seats.

That was Bogo's doing; the previous autumn, he had instituted a procedural change. Now the officers were dismissed together instead of leaving as soon as they had their assignments.

The buffalo flipped to page number three.

"Barrow, Kobolai, and McHorn...looks like The Phantom is up to his old tricks again; Lemming Brothers Bank reports they've had another data breach. You'll see Tufts over in Cybercrimes for your full assignments.

"Yes sir," they answered—with considerably less alacrity than the first three officers had shown.

Nick and Judy both knew why; although neither had ever met Lieutenant Albert Tufts, head of ZPD Cybercrimes, they'd heard about him. He was the quintessential know-it-all computer geek; the kind who thought anyone with a lesser knowledge of software-tech than himself was a candidate for a Special Ed class. Even Benjamin Clawhauser, who liked everybody, didn't' like him. In spite of all this, Lieutenant Tufts' brand of cyber-snobbery was tolerated, if not wholly accepted by the Department and for one simple reason. Whatever else you might have to say about him, he was good at his job; even his biggest detractors had to give him that much.

The rest of the assignments were more-or-less routine, and as usual Bogo waited until the end before getting around to Nick and Judy.

"Hopps, Wilde; see me downstairs in twenty minutes, room I-5."

Nick and Judy looked at each other, each one suppressing a swallow. Bad enough that they'd been summoned for a private talk without any sort of explanation but anytime the Chief wanted to talk you downstairs, instead of in his office.... Not! Good!

It was here that Bogo did something rarely seen in ZPD's Precinct one; he broke from his standard routine. Instead of calling 'Dismissed' as he normally would have, he removed one last item from the clipboard, holding up for everyone to see.

It was a greeting card showing a wolf-cub in a police uniform offering a salute. (It reminded Judy of the costume she'd worn at the Carrot-Days skit more than 15 years ago.) Arcing above the young wolf was a message written in large red letters.

There's No Speed Limit, Get Better FAST.

"Yesterday, in the midst of that sting I mentioned earlier, two of our officers were injured in the line of duty," Bogo informed the group solemnly. "One of them, Officer Tad Howell was hurt seriously enough to be taken to hospital."

He turned the card over and scribbled briefly on the inside, and then passed it to Higgins, saying, "Everyone, please sign this before you go."

There were numerous nods and several murmurs of approval; if there was one thing about which Chief Bogo was never indifferent, it was the safety of the officers under his command.

When the card got to Judy, she just had to ask, "How's he doing, Chief?"

For the first time that morning, Bogo smiled. "Glad you asked Hopps. As a matter of fact, his injuries turned out to be much less serious than they appeared. A few sprains and bruises, but nothing broken I'm pleased to say; in fact, the doctors tell me he can come home tomorrow."

Everyone cheered—except for Wolford and Grizzoli, who chose instead to howl in solidarity with their absent fellow lupine.

It left Judy Hopps doubly grateful that Nick had taken her aside for that talk. She could only hope that Officer Howell wasn't in too much pain right now.

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In fact, Tad Howell was milking it for all he could get.

He lay in his hospital bed with the curtains drawn around him, surrounded by dozens of 'get-well' bouquets and a row of greeting cards. (He had saved only the ones from his family—and those from any female admirers who had bothered to attach both a picture and a phone number.)

For the moment, the wolf had the room to himself; visiting hours didn't start for another hour at least. This afternoon was when the parade would start, he was sure of that much, if nothing else.

Howell had to admit; those guys on the other end knew how to handle things. When they'd wheeled him into Imaging, the armadillo in charge had told him in a Latino accent, "Just relax and do not worry. There is nothing out of the ordinary here."

He had said that BEFORE the wolf had even been lifted onto the X-Ray table.

Afterwards, he'd been moved into an extra-large private room; that had been courtesy of the ZPD—and Chief Bogo, who always took care of his own—and told anything he needed, just ask. (For that, Howell he knew he could thank someone else.)

Right now he was floating on a cloud of semi-euphoria; that came by way of the 10 mg of Purrcocet he'd been given with the rest of his morning meds. Propped against a pillow he was focused on the room TV—ZSPN, the Large Mammals Female MMA championships and booing loudly at the screen. A female panther had just been disqualified for, 'use of illegal claw enhancements'.

"You want enhancements, I'll give you enhancements," the red wolf growled sardonically, tapping at his shoulder and taking another spoonful of ice cream.

When it came to owning a sweet tooth, Benjamin Clawhauser apparently had nothing on Tad Howell. In addition to the ice cream, (his third bowl), an open box of Three Mustelids bars lay the mattress beside him, most of them gone. Over on his right meanwhile, an empty box marked 'Sweeties Scots Confectionary Shop' peeked halfway out of the wastebasket. (Well, they'd warned him the stuff did a number on your glucose level.)

Disgusted with the results of the fight, he reached for the remote to change channels, just as a silhouette appeared on the other side of the bed curtain.

The red wolf's mouth arced downwards in a puzzled frown. Funny, he hadn't heard the door open.

The shape moved closer to the bed, the outline becoming much more distinct; it was a mammal approximately the same size as himself...and also very much of the feminine variety.

Howell relaxed and a lascivious grin slid around his muzzle.

"Hey nurse, time for my physical therapy already?" he growled, amused at his own joke.

But then his nostrils flared, along with his eyes, and the drug haze vanished like vapor in a high wind—and then he was pulling himself backwards against the bed-pillow, cringing as though a half-ton spider was crawling towards him.

Someone grabbed the curtain and swiped it violently aside, Tad Howell might have howled, except he had no saliva.

The animal on the other side of the curtain was a female all right, a female wolverine—and the look she was giving him at the moment was anything but friendly.

But it wasn't thanks to her that his tail was curling up between his legs and he was barely able to keep from whimpering.

That came courtesy of the other wolverine, the one standing off to the side and behind her, the one with the single, white paw.

And HE looked even less congenial than his companion.

"Mind the door Slashburn." He told her, and the female wolverine made a quick exit, closing it behind her.

Seth Whitepaugh waited until she had gone, and then moved forward, looming over Howell and grinding a white-furred fist into his other pawlm.

"You activated without authorization." Was all he said; short and to the point

Howell sat up rapidly, still frightened, but also irritated.

"Hey, wait minute, I was told I could do that in an emergency."

"Emergency..." Whitepaugh spoke in a monotone while regarding the wolf-cop with a steely eye; clearly he was in no mood to mince words.

"Yes, emergency." Howell was no longer merely annoyed, but thoroughly exasperated, "My tail was caught and my leg was injured and that blankety-blank hippo was getting ready to plant a stinkin' pipe in my skull. If I hadn't activated when I did, I'd be down in the ICU on life-support instead of being kept up here overnight for observation." His lip curled upwards, revealing his incisors. "Don't tell me you don't KNOW that!"

In response to this, the wolverine's mouth spread open, revealing teeth that were like daggers against butter-knives in comparison to the red wolf's canines.

"Don't bare your fangs at ME." He informed Howell coldly, "and in case you're thinking about activating right now, you'd do well to remember that we can override by remote any time we choose."

The wolf looked away for a second, but his expression remained sullen. Active now, did they think he was THAT stupid?

Whitepaugh studied him for a second as if he were a specimen under glass; and then surprisingly, he relented.

"As a matter of fact, we are aware; and yes, under the circumstances, your action was justified."

Howell's ears began to work back and forth in confusion.

"Then why...?"

His answer came in the form of Seth Whitepaugh grabbing him by the lower jaw and forcing the wolf to meet his gaze. At no point did he raise his voice; in fact it actually dropped a couple of decibels.

"What wasn't so acceptable," the wolverine almost whispered, "is that when Rashid al-Azif attempted to flee the scene, you, for some odd reason, elected to give chase." He let go and took a step backward. "Why was that, Officer Howell? What was the reasoning behind such a reckless act?"

The wolf rubbed gingerly at his muzzle for a second.

"Azif had me made; I had to stop him before he could tell the Rafaj bro..."

The account ended in a choked gurgle as Whitepaugh grabbed him again...this time by the throat. Even in spite of their relative sizes, the wolverine handled him as easily as a rag-toy.

"Howell?" he crooned, in a tone of velvety menace, "Do I look like some B-list street-hustler, peddling pawpsicles to you?"

The red wolf tried to answer but all that came out was a frog's croak. He had better luck when he tried to shake his head and Whitepaugh dropped him like an oat-sack.

"Then don't talk to me like one," the wolverine growled, sounding like a fed-up teacher lecturing a slacker. "You know perfectly well that no one would have taken the word of a felon like that over even a rookie police officer. And as matter of fact, Rashid al-Azif said nothing about you in his statement to the ZPD. Instead, he claimed to have sustained his injuries when he went through that brick wall...a wise decision on the hippo's part, if I do say so myself."

He looked up and away for a second, pretending to be lost in thought.

"On the other paw, if one of your fellow police officers were to have reported seeing you in that state...well now, there would be someone with just a little more credibility, wouldn't you say?"

Still massaging his neck, Tad Howell let out a burbling groan. He knew exactly where this was going and there was no point trying to dodge it.

"Yes, Officer Hopps saw me," he admitted, "Only for a second, and only my face...but yes, she saw me."

Whitepaugh turned rapidly to face him, his eyes narrowing into slivers of volcanic glass.

"And did you say anything to her?"

Howell lowered his gaze to the floor.

"I...I told...I reminded her she was supposed to have stayed in the command truck."

He looked up again, bracing himself, waiting for the blow. Instead, the wolverine actually looked pleased.

"Good," he answered cryptically, and then, "I appreciate your candor in admitting that, Howell...and you did everything afterwards correctly, including notifying us of the activation even before getting your partner out of that trash dumpster. With that in mind, I think we can write this off as an honest mistake in the heat of a crisis."

Howell started to relax, but caught himself. If he didn't know by now that he wasn't getting off quite so lightly, he'd never figure it out.

And sure enough, in the blink of an eye, Whitepaugh was nose to nose with him again, sniffing deeply as is trying to imprint his scent for later.

"But the next time you violate protocol," he purred, in that same velveteen voice, "you will NOT live to regret it. Is that understood?"

Without waiting for an answer, the wolverine dropped him and went to the door. Before making his exit he turned and looked back, pointing with two fingers.

"Just remember, Howell...we're watching."

And then he was gone.

By the time Nick and Judy got to room I-5 they already knew that things weren't going to go quite the way they had anticipated.

First of all, usually when the Chief wanted to read you the Riot Act, he'd clear out the Records room for the purpose—and Records was at almost the opposite end of the building from where they were now.

Second, what were all these other officers doing gathered around the door to room I-5? Bogo always delivered his reprimands in private, never in public. (That in fact, was why he called you downstairs for a talk when he was really angry; his booming voice might carry easily enough through the glass-paneled door to his office, but it was no match for the basement's concrete walls and fire doors.)

This time it was the command truck all over again; at the moment0 of the fox and bunny's approach all conversation in the corridor instantly ceased. Most of the officers remained stone faced, but Snarlov and Spottiswoode, polar bear and leopard respectively, looked like a pair of cubs who'd just placed a bucket of water on a door-frame and were waiting for their victim to walk in. (Chief Bogo seemed to be nowhere in sight.)

But then McHorn turned and knocked twice on the door to room I-5. It cracked open immediately, and yep the Chief was in there.

"Is that them, then?" he queried in his familiar basso-profundo.

"Yes Chief." The rhino answered, glancing quickly at the new arrivals.

"Send them in."

Nick and Judy exchanged a glance and then moved uneasily past McHorn and through the door

Once inside, they finally they understood what was happening; Room I-5 was painted in a dingy, two-tone gray and the overhead lighting consisted of a pair of caged fluorescent bars. On their left side, the wall was taken up almost entirely by a mirror...which Nick and Judy both knew was not a mirror on its other side.

And there, in the center of the room, were Ahmed and Ismael al-Rafaj seated at a table with a nattily-dressed porcupine wedged in between them (not sitting too closely, of course). On the other side of the table were Chief Bogo and a chamois in a suit and tie that Nick and Judy didn't recognized. The center of the tabletop was occupied by a digital voice recorder, sitting placidly with its light on.

They didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or kick each other. In their mixed consternation over Francine Trunkaby's ambush and the Chief's abrupt order, they hadn't realized where they were being summoned—until now.

Room I-5...Interrogation room 5. Duh! But there was no time for any further self-recrimination The Rafaj Brothers took one look at who had just entered the room—in police uniforms—and their eyes appeared to grow three sizes bigger and their jaws fell open like gallows traps.

Chief Bogo meanwhile had assumed his most ingratiating smile. When he spoke, his tone was all warmth and formality.

"Ahmed...Ismael?" He said, gesturing towards the newcomers with a grand sweep of his arm, "If I may, I would like to introduce you to Officer Nicholas Wilde and Officer Judith Hopps of the Zootopia Police Department."

"M-Might we have a moment to consult with our attorney in private, please?"

"Certainly," Bogo answered, all smiles once again, "Take all the time you need..." And then the smile wiped away, leaving only a smoldering scowl, "just as long as I have my answer within the next five minutes!"

He got up and went to the door, beckoning with crooked finger for Nick and Judy to follow. As they got up to join him, the chamois spoke for the first time.

"If you know what's good for your clients, Counselor," He said, talking to the porcupine, "You'll advise them to take the plea bargain...because if I hear anything but a 'yes' when I come back in here, The Mammals will withdraw their offer."

Before their attorney could answer, Ahmed bolted halfway out of his seat, whining like a buzzing fly.

"They are only diamonds bey," he protested, "just diamonds!"

It was Chief Bogo who answered him turning to stare with a glacial expression.

"Just diamonds purchased with guns." He snorted, "Just diamonds mined by slave labor."

He ushered Nick and Judy through the door and then stepped aside for the chamois. And then, making after his own exit, Bogo slammed the door behind him.

No sooner did it close than a remarkable transformation came over the Cape buffalo...and this time it wasn't a performance. A friendly smile might have been something of an effort for Chief Bogo, but not so a smile of triumph.

And his was actually one of the milder reactions; McHorn and Snarlov exchanged a hard high five while Rick Spottiswood was almost folded in half with laughter. The only party-pooper seemed to be the chamois; he appeared to be half pleased, half anxious.

"O-M Goodbar!" Spottiswood had finally straightened up and was peering through the one-way mirror, "Did you see the look on that one jackal's face when the Chief brought Wilde and Hopps into the room? For a minute there, I thought we were going to need the defibrillator."

"Oh for most certainly," Snarlov agreed, "They'll start to sing now, I think, yes?"

"Sing?" McHorn snorted gruffly. "Those two are gonna perform an OPERA." He nodded over at Nick and Judy; the fox responded by giving him a sour look, as if to say, 'Hey thanks for finally noticing we're here.'

"Just you wait," the rhino continued, either ignoring Nick or not caring, "By tomorrow morning, I bet they give up every single one of their suppliers."

"I believe you're possibly right, McHorn." Bogo nodded cautiously, and then turned a satirical expression on the chamois, who immediately threw up his hooves in vexed defeat.

"All right Chief, you want me to say it? I'll say it. You were right and I was wrong; saving Hopps and Wilde for the closer did the trick."

That was Judy's cue to cough and clear her throat.

"Ch-Chief?" she said, unconsciously tracing a design on the floor with her big toe, "I just wanted to say that...uhm, I...want to apologize for going after that hippo instead of staying in the command truck."

To her utter surprise—and relief—Chief Bogo only waved a dismissive hoof.

"Oh, never mind that, Hopps. Given the circumstances, your actions were justified. He'd already made you as police officers, and you couldn't just let him get away."

But then his trademark scowl returned and he pointed a finger at her and then at Nick. "Just the same, let this be a lesson—to both of you. When I give you an order to stay back you'd do well NOT to assume that it's only because your species. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir." Said Judy

"Right Chief." Said Nick.

"Now that's out of the way," Bogo gestured towards the chamois with an open hoof, "Officer Hopps...Officer Wilde, this is Deputy Chief Prosecutor Rudy Gamsbart, of the Zootopia Attorney General's office. He'll be handling the case from here on in."

"Nice to meet you," the chamois said, offering each of them a hoof and shaking quickly. "That was some excellent undercover police work on your part," he winked, "even if your methods were a little, mmmmm, unorthodox. "

There was an undercurrent of condescension in his last remark, but Judy let it pass. A sideways glance at Nick however told her that it wasn't going to roll off his back quite so easily.

She hurriedly spoke up.

"So I guess we'll be seeing you on the witness stand," she said, a left-pawed way of reminding her partner that this chamois was NOT someone you wanted to antagonize.

Gamsbart drily shook his head.

"Actually, I hope that won't be the case Officer Hopps. As your Chief rightly pointed out, the most common currency for the purchase of blood diamonds is weapons—and that's who we really want, whichever illegal arms traders were supplying the brothers with those stones."

"If they give you any of their suppliers," Nick Wilde was asking, "Is there any chance we might be put on the case?" No longer irritated, he was now a fox on the hunt.

It was Bogo who answered him.

"Possibly...if there any of them turn out to be within our jurisdiction. But I shouldn't get my hopes up, Wilde; illegal weapons traffickers usually make it a point of not dealing locally—neither in armaments, or in blood diamonds."

"I'm afraid he's right," Gamsbart started to say, but just then his cell-phone chimed a marimba beat.

"Oops, have to take this." The chamois said, and scooted away towards a corner. He might just as well have stayed where he was; less than three seconds later he cried out alarm, so loudly Benjamin Clawhuase would later claim to have heard it.

"WHAT! You have GOT to be...! Tell me you're not ser...! Yes, yes, I'll be right there. No not now, I'll talk to him when I get there. Yes, good bye."

He jammed the phone back in his pocket and looked at Bogo with a face that was barely under control.

"Are you ready for this Chief? Vinnie Blacktail just recanted his deposition, says he only made it under duress, and now he's refusing to co-operate any further. Looks like Mr. Big is going to walk...again."

Chief Bogo said nothing to this, he didn't have to; the outraged note he blew through his nostrils left no doubt as to where his sentiments lay.

Nick and Judy's reaction was somewhat more muted, the fox grimaced and the bunny winced. Crime boss or no, if it hadn't been for Mr. Big, they would never have caught up with Doug, much less foiled Dawn Bellwether's scheme.

So far at least, it had never come back to haunt them, but it was always there, hanging over their heads like the sword of Damocles; Duke Weaselton had only given up Doug after Big had threatened to ice him—with Nick and Judy's blessing. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea, and if the Dukester hadn't fessed up.... Shortly after Bellwether's arrest, a draft proposal had been found on her hard-drive, something called the Tame Collar Initiative. (Nick Wilde still got the shudders when he thought about it.)

Just the same, the fox and bunny had crossed the line, and both of them knew it. They had later sworn 'never again', and up until now, they had kept that vow.

All very well and good but also so far, they had never had to make that same choice as they'd had back then; either go beyond the pale or stand back and watch a cataclysm unfold.

Gamsbart meanwhile was bounding up the stairs, four at a time, forget the elevator. As soon as the chamois was gone, Bogo turned his attention to Nick and Judy again.

"Right then, as for you two, Councilmammal Nizhang's called a press-conference in front of City Hall, starting in," He looked at his watch, "Approximately one hour, and I need two more officers to help keep order; as you know she's something a controversy these days. So get y'selves on over there and then after you're finished," His expression became an odd mixture of drollness and solemnity, "It has come to my attention, Officer Hopps, Officer Wilde, that you two have been racking up quite a bit of overtime lately. And I won't have it, I want my officers bright and alert, not overworked and frazzled, so after you're done at the presser, I want you to clock out and I'll see you back at roll call, first thing Monday morning."

This time the fox and bunny answered both in unison and with fervor.

"Yes, sir!"

"Just a minute, just one minute, I haven't dismissed you yet," the Cape buffalo rumbled gruffly. (Nick and Judy actually hadn't moved a muscle.)

And then, to their astonishment, he held out a hoof. "Congratulations, both of you, on successfully completing your first undercover assignment. If it were up to me, I'd give the both of you your detective shields right now."

They shook, and then the Chief reverted quickly back to form.

"Right, off you go." he said, and then walked away without even so much as a backwards glance.

Nick Wilde was not unhappy.

"Press conference? Piece of cake," He said, offering Judy a thumbs-up.

He could never have imagined how wrong he was.

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Easter Egg, Chapter 1 pt. 4

The exchange between Judy and Claire Swinton, just before Rashid opens the truck door, was lifted from an exchange between Charlie Pizer and and the robot V.I. in the Disney film, The Black Hole

In this episode, I attempted to wrap up one the loose ends, left over from the movie. Nick and Judy's Q-and-A with Duke Weaselton