Chapter 10

There were a few things in the world that Bogo liked.

A bomb in his police station was definitely not on the list.

He had received a call a quarter hour past midnight that there had been an explosion at the station. A frantic Clawhauser, panicked and distraught, had called him on his personal cell phone to relay the information. It wasn't until he had arrived at the station and the investigation got underway that things started coming into clearer focus.

A middle aged wolf with flecks of white in his gray fur was bent in front of the smoldering remains of Clyde Le Chat when Bogo approached him from the hallway.

"Report," he barked.

The wolf looked up, still crouched down, and locked eyes with the chief. He spoke after a moment. "Sir, one casualty, Clyde Le Chat, burned to death immediately I would presume, practically incinerated. The cause of the explosion was a small explosive device set down in the corner right next to the gas line just behind the wall. If he had placed it almost anywhere else in the cell, I can't imagine it would have done much more than blast a hole in the wall and make a small crater in the floor. However, this cell runs up to one of the gas lines, just between two close valves, so the explosion didn't compromise the entire system-"

"That seems awfully convenient," Bogo said, cutting off the other officer.

"Yes, sir, it seems that somehow Mr. Le Chat was placed here on purpose and then given an explosive device. Why he would use it voluntarily is a mystery," the wolf said.

Bogo frowned. "How did it get in here in the first place?"

The wolf continued his report. "Sir, I spoke with Officer Clawhauser before the Fire Department had deemed the building safe. He said that the only person who has been in and out of the station recently was a warthog named Raymond Tusken, reportedly Mr. Le Chat's lawyer."

"Tusken?" Bogo said, his voice suddenly taking on a tone of surprise. He couldn't be sure, but he suspected that this new player, Tusken, and their suspect Tusk might be the same individual.

The wolf nodded. "Yes, sir, that's what Officer Clawhauser said. The explosion happened maybe a minute after Mr. Tusken had exited the building, reportedly in a hurry. I would suspect that he provided the explosive device."

"Did you get a description from Clawhauser?" the chief asked.

"We tried, sir, but he was rather distraught. All we got was 'warthog with a nice suit' before he passed out again," the wolf replied.

A warthog? the chief thought.

"Do we have any surveillance footage of his face?" Bogo asked, impatience creeping into his voice.

"Undetermined, I came here after interviewing Officer Clawhauser. Lieutenant Brandt is reviewing surveillance footage at thi-" The wolf was cut off by his radio coming to life.

"Lieutenant Combs, this is Lieutenant Brandt, do you copy?" the voice of the tiger crackled out of the radio.

"Copy, Lieutenant Brandt, this is Combs, over," the wolf said.

"Surveillance is a negative, the server rack has been sabotaged. No footage can be recovered from the archive that hasn't already been committed to disc," Brandt said.

Silence fell between Bogo and Combs. They both looked at each other with shock on their faces. Chief Bogo spoke first.

"It would seem Mr. Tusken had an inside man," he said, his voice slow and his tone dangerous.

"Sir, it would appear that way," Combs replied, sounding sad. "There's no telling how long ago the server was rendered useless, the monitor would still run the live feed in a real time for anyone looking. With over one hundred cameras in the station, it's easy to go by unnoticed for just a few minutes."

Bogo sighed, and said, "I assume that someone has interviewed Officer Brooks, then?"

Combs nodded slowly, and said, "That was Brandt's first order of business. During the time in question, Brooks had been monitoring the east cell block and the mezzanine level. He told Brandt that Buckley was sound asleep the entire time until we had to evacuate the station."

"Where is that mangy antelope anyhow?" Bogo asked irritatedly, looking around as if he expected to see him nearby.

"He's still outside in temporary detainment with the other few detainees we had overnight. The rest were all booked tonight on minor charges," Combs said.

Bogo started to feel a sense of unease. He thought for a moment before speaking again. "How many total?"

"About fifteen, sir," Combs said.

"How many officers are out at temporary detainment?"

Combs hesitated before saying, "About four, sir."

"Are any of them intoxicated? What species are they?"

Combs started to look worried, and said, "No, sir, all involved in minor scuffles and assaults, all larger bears and felines except for one elephant. You don't think-"

"I'm not going to risk it," Bogo said, and turned to stalk off back out of the building to the temporary detainment area. Combs was hot on his tail.

They didn't get more than a few paces before their radios blared out: "10-71, shots fired, detainment is under attack! I repeat, detainment is under attack!"

The two didn't spare a glance at one another before breaking into an all out sprint to the front of the building. They were outside within a minute.

The scene before them was chaotic at best, although pandemonium was more accurate. As far as Bogo was concerned, things could not get much worse for them, considering that just a few hours prior, he had felt confident that his detectives could hunt down this "Tusk" and bring him in.

The detainment area was on fire, with gun shot bursts going off every couple of seconds as officers battled with assailants he could not see through the thick night and smoke. He ran over to where the officers were taking cover from the gunfire, and quickly took command.

"Report!" he shouted, and Lieutenant Grizzoli came forward.

"Sir," he began, "about three minutes ago, an unknown number of armed assailants opened fire on the temporary detainment guards, wounding Rackerts. Wolfortz is presumed dead. We have been yet unable to retrieve his body to confirm. Greg Buckley, Rupert Trunkford, Tracy Walsh, and Quinn Belfang went missing immediately, and the remaining dozen detainees began violently resisting the remaining officers. At this time, none of them are in our custody."

As Grizzoli recounted the situation, Bogo became more and more irate, his anger overtaking him.

"Get the bloody SWAT team out here, where are they?" he demanded.

"Currently en route, sir," Grizzoli said, still standing at attention, not betraying any of his own emotions.

Bogo grunted. "Any possibility this is connected to the murder of Clyde Le Chat?" he asked, addressing Combs.

The wolf shrugged slightly, and spoke loudly over the noise, "Sir, at this time I cannot say for certain, as I am not aware of any of these others being associated with Mr. Buckley or Mr. Le Chat. I'd imagine that we'll have our answers soon, though."

The chief nodded. He fixed his gaze over to a few police SUVs that were being used as makeshift battlements. Several officers were taking cover behind them as their attackers continued to fire at them. McHorn turned around and fired out several shots just as the next round of officers were finishing reloading and preparing to turn and fire. However, the gunshots from the enemy stopped.

Did he hit them? Bogo thought.

Bogo looked at where the enemy fire had been coming from, and saw nothing. Heard nothing. The officers waited like this, in tense silence, for fifteen minutes before venturing forward. The SWAT division arrived in the middle of the silence, and led the charge.

All they found was Wolfortz clinging to life, barely, and Quinn Belfang dead on the ground with a hole in his head.

Tusk observed the firefight with detached bemusement. Belfang and Walsh were leading the charge, spraying more than the necessary amount of bullets at the officers. The situation needed to come to a conclusion soon, though, or else they would be overrun and compromised.

Tusk did not like compromise.

He took a defensive position near Walsh, and spoke quietly. "We're leaving. Belfang can handle this," he said, and then got up to walk away. Walsh, a young cheetah in her late twenties, got up to follow as Belfang started firing again. Tusk and Walsh ran away into the nearby alleyways, and met up with Trunkford and Buckley. The remaining detainees had scattered to their various safe points.

They hardly noticed that in the distance, the gunfire stopped as Belfang was shot in the head.

"What now?" Trunkford said, looking expectantly at Tusk.

He looked back at the elephant and then addressed the group. "We leave for the safe house. We need to lay low for a few days. The ZPD is going to be out for Buckley because he's the one who got Le Chat and himself thrown in jail. The rest of you were booked but I doubt you're going to be as high of priorities. As for me, my help was able to disable their entire security footage database. The only one who will remember my face is Benjamin Clawhauser, and he won't describe me correctly."

The other three nodded grimly, and began to make their way into the heart of the downtown area. They stuck to back alleys to avoid being seen in clearer light.

They walked for some time, and it was now nearly 1:30 in the morning. Police cars had zipped by just outside of their lines of sight a few times, and sirens could be heard all over the city. A few times, they had to duck inside a dumpster as a helicopter went overhead, its strong search lights pointing in the darker alleys.

After another helicopter had passed overheard, Buckley addressed Tusk.

"Why did you kill Clyde? The failsafe if any of us got caught and needed to be busted out was to just smoke out the building," he said, concern in his voice. The idea that he might get blown up next had come to him a few times since they had evacuated around midnight.

"Le Chat was a moron and our newest addition. I have it on good authority that he told a more truthful story to Hopps and Bogo than you did, and betrayed too much in his desperation," Tusk said plainly. "Not to mention, I figured that tying up a loose end while simultaneously spooking the ZPD was a win-win. Our operation needs to get back underway."

Buckley still wasn't satisfied. "Still, I don't think that-"

"Silence," Tusk said, his voice deadly and quiet. He came to a stop in a four-way alley crossing, the only light illuminating them coming from the moon. "You should be counting your fucking blessings that I chose to keep you on board after the lunacy you got yourself involved in. Assaulting Nick Wilde in broad fucking daylight? My god, the only way this could have been worse is if you'd done it to Judy Hopps instead!"

Buckely gulped, remembering that she had been his original target.

Tusk continued, his whisper more intense with each word, "It's bad enough you two were caught arguing by them. My source in the ZPD relayed that in their official report, they recounted that you argued with them and chose to insult them and let them notice your ridiculous metal fucking tipped antlers. You know how the scheme works, and you let your greed get the better of you instead of being patient like you were supposed to! The new recruits get ripped off until they prove their worth, and then we let them in!"

Walsh, Tunkford, and Buckley all stood stock still, terrified at the way that Tusk was talking. Buckley also began to fear that Tusk knew about Amelie and what Hopps had said to him.

"I'm sorry, Tusk," he said quietly, looking down at the ground. The warthog chuffed and started walking again.

"It's just as well you let me eliminate Le Chat like this. My source tells me that he started unraveling our web a bit once he was informed we were dealing in Night Howlers," Tusk said quietly.

They continued on for another hour, finally making it to their safe house on the border of Savannah Central and the Rainforest District. It was an old warehouse for the Foxtrot Corporation, and hadn't been visited by anyone from the company in years. The area was inspected before being deemed fit for their occupancy. Exhausted, the four of them quickly found a sleeping area and rested.

Judy groaned as her phone kept going off. She had ignored the first call without looking at the caller when she silenced it. However, they were calling again and against her better judgment, she picked it up and saw that it was Chief Bogo's personal cell number. She then looked at the time and saw that it was 12:43am.

"Cheese and crackers, what could he possibly want at this hour?" she groaned, sitting up in her bed. Somehow, Nick had remained undisturbed from the noise. She answered the phone and croaked out, "Hello?"

"Hopps," came the Chief's voice. She instantly picked up that something was wrong; he sounded out of breath and...panicked?

"Sir?" she replied.

"Hopps, there's been an attack on the ZPD," he said and she gasped while he continued, "Clyde Le Chat has been murdered, Wolfortz is in critical condition at the hospital and Greg Buckley has been busted out."

"Sir, oh my god, I…" she said, her voice trailing off. Nick finally began to stir. He groaned a little and opened his eyes, already adjusted to the darkness, and saw the look of worry on her face. He sat up and put an arm around her.

"To make things worse, we apparently have a double agent in our ranks," he said, anger seeping into his voice now. "Someone made sure that Clyde Le Chat was in a cell that was near a gas line, and then also managed to sabotage the entire security footage database. We have no footage recorded from the entire night, not to mention most footage from the last 60 days is completely destroyed also."

Judy's eyes went wide and she spoke quietly, "Sir...someone betrayed us?" Nick's ears perked up at that. His hearing was good, but he couldn't really make out what was being said on the other side of the phone. Talk of betrayal, however, concerned him deeply.

"Indeed," he said solemnly, the anger giving way to defeat. "In my twenty five years as a police officer, I've never had anything like this happen." He sighed heavily. "Anyway, I called you because I need you and Wilde back sooner than Monday. Take the rest of today and come back tomorrow in the evening. We're going to have to do a lot of questioning to find our mole and extract whoever it is. I'm going to need you and Wilde more than I'd care to admit."

Judy nodded, despite the fact that the chief couldn't see her, and said, "Yes, sir, I understand completely. Thank you for telling me what happened so I wouldn't have to see it on the news in the morning. Are...are you ok?"

The chief snorted on the other end. "I'm fine, Hopps. So is Clawhauser, since I'm sure you're wondering."

"I was," she admitted quietly.

"Well don't worry about anyone besides Wolfortz. He's going to be lucky to pull through. Rackerts is already on his feet-"

"John was hurt too?" she exclaimed, interrupting the chief.

He let out a huff and continued, "Yes, but as I said, he's on his feet so he's fine." A short pause. "That was all I had for you. Relax as much as you can for the rest of your vacation. I need you at one hundred and ten percent when you get back, and I need Wilde at least at fifty. Good night," he said and then the call ended. Judy slowly let the phone fall from her ear. After a few minutes of silence, Nick cleared his throat.

"I, uh, I tried not to eavesdrop but all I got out of that was Bogo, betrayal, and John Rackerts being hurt?" he said, his tone sarcastic but full of worry. He was friendly toward the rhino.

Judy sighed, and said, "Someone attacked the ZPD, killed Clyde, broke out Buckley, and nearly killed Wolfortz. He's in critical condition and Bogo doesn't seem to think he'll make it." Nick's eyes went wide, and his ears pinned back against his head.

"Trent's strong," he said, his ears sticking back up in determination. "He'll make it." He squeezed Judy closer to him, pressing his muzzle against the side of her head. "Any idea who did it?" he whispered into her fur, letting his fear show a little.

"No," she said, "at least not that he mentioned. Although if I had to guess, I'm sure this 'Tusk' that Buckley and Le Chat told us about is involved. He's the only connection between the two of them."

Nick just kept holding onto her, not saying anything. He could feel her heartbeat and it seemed faster than normal, even for a bunny. They sat in silence, just holding each other, for a few minutes.

"I'm scared, Nick," Judy said quietly, finally breaking the silence. "I'm scared that more of our friends are going to get hurt, or worse...and I'm scared that maybe you might be one of the ones getting hurt again." She took in a shuddering breath.

All of her fears over Nick getting hurt came surging back, and hit her harder with the images of a wounded Rackerts and Wolfortz in her mind. She suddenly imagined that all three of them were laying out on the ground, bleeding, in pain, dying….

She let out a single choked sob, and caught it in her throat. Nick gave her a quick squeeze and nuzzled against her cheek. That was all it took to get her to break down and start crying.

"I'm scared, too, Carrots," he said quietly, petting the top of her head as she cried. "But I know that we're better than whoever these assholes are, and I know for damn sure that you, Bogo, and I are gonna find whatever...scumfuck prick betrayed us and did this to John and Trent."

Nick didn't have a ton of friends at the ZPD. Judy, obviously, Clawhauser too, Delgato, Fangmire, Wolford, McHorn, Higgins, Grizzoli despite his promotion, but he had also grown to like Rackerts and Wolfortz lately. He had never held on to many friends when he had been conning mammals, because it wasn't easy to trust someone who made a living by lying and get close to them. At the ZPD though, mammals saw him for who he felt he was, and they liked him for it. Eventually, he started liking them too.

As he cradled Judy, who continued to sob quietly, he thought of only two things: keeping her safe, and getting that son of a bitch.

A/N: Sorry I took so long to update. It's been a busy few weeks and this chapter was incredibly hard to write. I hope it was entertaining! Let me know your thoughts. Happy Monday!