Dear readers,

I'd like to thank my long-term followers for their amazing loyalty. Really, thank you so much for your continued interest in my writings and this story, despite a stupendously long hiatus. I appreciate receiving messages from you guys, and I'm sorry that I've left you hanging for so long. It's been an interesting summer with lots going on. Changing jobs, losing jobs, gaining jobs, preparing for university, working on side projects, and suddenly we're at the end of the summer with the story having been left without an update. I wish I could have gotten around to this sooner, but things have been so busy of late, and a period of difficulty putting pen to paper (so to speak) made it all the harder to get back in. However, here we are with a fresh chapter to add to the saga!

For those who have only just started reading the story more recently, you're in luck! You didn't have to wait as long for an update. :D

With that stated, enjoy the latest installment!

Edited by Cimar of Turalis WildeHopps

Chapter Forty Three

Interrogation

Nick blinked his eyes open, trying to fight the sleep. His brain was groggy, but the office was slowly coming into focus again. The smell of cold coffee and sweaty uniforms wasn't one of the most welcoming good morning calls he could remember. A quick glance around the room revealed Judy slumped over her desk in the far left corner, arms crossed under her head. Further away, Desmond sat deflated in a swivel chair by the door.

The night had been one of uncomfortable chairs and drooping eyelids as Nick and Judy had worked in their claustrophobic ZPD office to run through every strand of information they had on the case. Desmond had sat on the far end of the room, nodding sympathetically at their growing frustration and attempting to offer some useful suggestions of his own, none of them leading to a satisfactory answer. Admittedly, this was most likely due to tiredness; they had all succumbed to the fatigue of the day.

Nick swallowed, lubricating his dry throat. He checked his phone sleepily, only to nearly bolt out of his chair at the sight.

"Judy?"

There was a groan in response as she turned over, pushing the chair out just a few inches from the desk.

"Desmond?"

The younger fox snorted and hugged his crossed arms closer to his body, his left ear twitching slightly.

With a sigh, Nick clambered from his chair and strolled over to his partner, shaking the rabbit gently by the shoulder. She quickly sat up straight, ears standing tall. When she saw the fox next to her, she relaxed her shoulders, smiling in greeting. This smile rapidly dissolved as her eyes were directing by Nick's tapping finger to the phone in his paw.

09:36

"Oh no," she groaned. The rabbit brought her paws to her eyes and rubbed vigorously, trying to catch up with Nick in the awakening game. She reached over and grabbed the ceramic mug which sat by her keyboard, lifting it from the small circle of solidified sludge which encircled it. In her grogginess, she raised it to her lips and took a sip, wincing at the unpleasant taste of cold coffee. At least the caffeine might give her a boost.

"Des," Nick said, clapping his paws together.

The fox stirred slowly, stretching his arms wide before toppling off the edge of his chair. He clambered up from the floor, dusting down his shirt with a look of acute embarrassment.

"Morning Nick," he grinned, looking between the two partners.

"Sleep well?"

"I slept," Desmond stated bluntly.

"Care for some cold coffee?" Judy offered.

The fox rubbed his paws together, smiling at her good-naturedly before taking the offered drink from her. "Oh, my favourite. Does it come with ice cubes for added heat resistance?"

"No, but it's free," Nick interjected. "Unlike Wolford. And we don't have any time to waste."

There was a moment of silence. Nick folded his paws behind his back, expression serious. "He's our friend. We need to be thinking in minutes, not hours."

"Interrogation."

The two foxes stared at Judy quizzically.

"That's right," she nodded, fingering her carrot pen as she frowned in concentration. "The tiger and caribou we picked up last night. Our best chance of finding out about the gang's location is through them."

Desmond nodded slowly, taking a deep gulp from the foul tasting beverage. He drummed his fingers over the body of the mug, the taps falling into rhythm with an old tune which was still whirring away in his brain, carried over from his sleep.

"Nice thinking, Carrots," Nick said. "We can get as much as we can from them. Meanwhile, it's about time you delivered, Des."

"Me?" the fox blinked.

Judy rolled her eyes, pushing herself up off the chair. "The files you've got. Between the information these perps can give us and the files we need from you, we might be able to track down Rake."

"Right," Desmond said, turning the mug in his paws quickly. "Yes, I see what you mean now."

"You have the files?" she pressed.

"No."

"No?!" Nick exclaimed, nearly choking on his intake of air. "You said you had them!"

"Correction - I said I would get them."

"That was in the hotel." Nick said, exasperated. "You were going to meet us in the parking lot to give them to us!"

"I was going to meet you to tell you that I couldn't find them."

Judy and Nick exchanged was not what they needed to hear. During the night, they had already lost five hours from the forty eight they had been given. They simply couldn't afford to lose more by wasting time relying on things Desmond was now claiming he was incapable of delivering.

"After our meeting in the hotel, I went back to my apartment," Desmond explained, rubbing his paws down his shirt. "The place looked a mess, like someone had already been there. At least my computer gear was still intact."

"But what about the files?" Nick asked, folding his arms. "Come on Des, we've gotta know where things stand."

His friend flexed his fingers a few times, lowering his gaze to scrutinise every remaining thread of the threadbare carpet, which naturally didn't offer much distraction. Eventually he raised his head again, meeting Nick's eyes with a look of defeat and apology. "I stored the files on a flash drive. When I checked, it was...gone. I'm sorry."

"Hold on," Nick said, making a T with his paws, "cut right there. You stored them on a flash drive?"

"It sounded like a good idea at the time," the younger fox murmured.

"In your apartment?"

"Well it wasn't in the city museum."

"What kind of a flash drive?" Nick advanced, ignoring the comment.

Desmond shifted, narrowing his eyes as he thought intently. "I've got three main portable drives, but this one I kept in my desk. It was a HenDisk model. Had a lightning bolt on the body."

If it was possible for silence to become physically oppressive, the room would have buckled under the weight. Nick and Judy both let their shoulders sag while Desmond stared at them with growing confusion. His ear twitched, the fox already feeling uncomfortable about how this was going.

"What's up, guys? Speak to me."

"Des, we found that flash drive in your apartment," Nick sighed, rubbing his temple with his index finger in an attempt to stave off the rapidly growing headache. The ridiculous nature of their situation was just dawning on him. They had the files all along and neither of them had known it. The documents they needed had been on the drive just before they…

"Carrots, you remember what we did with the files on that drive?" the fox said, his mood dropping lower by the moment.

She considered this, tapping her foot on the carpet. Four taps later, her ears fell. "Oh no..."

"Yes," Nick nodded. The headache increased.

"Well," Desmond sighed, gripping the door handle and yanking the door open, "I'll see you guys later."

"Where are you going?" Nick spluttered.

His friend shot him a look. "Searching around the ZPD offices for an answer to what you guys are talking about, because I'm not getting one here."

"Point taken. Sit down and we'll break it to you, buddy."

"Just tell me now," the young fox grinned nervously. "Seriously, I can take it."

"We deleted your files," Judy stated.

It seemed to be a good sign that Desmond didn't die on the spot, although Judy did wonder for a few seconds if this wasn't off the cards entirely.

"You didn't." he finally said, smiling as if it was all a practical joke.

The doe looked at her partner, uncertain how to reply.

"Wait...you're not serious?" Desmond's grin vanished as his blue eyes widened. "You have the drive?!"

Nick walked over and placed a paw on his shoulder. "Easy there, bud. Yes, we have your drive."

"S-so how did you delete the contents?"

"Well 'we' is a little unfair," Judy corrected. "I should have said I deleted them."

"How?"

"We needed room on the drive to carry the video files we found on your computer back to Savannah with us," Nick explained. "Every minute spent in your neck of the woods was another minute of danger for me, as we realised when we nearly bumped into Vincent doing the rounds."

The younger fox buried his face in his paws, ruffling the white dyed fur on his head frantically. "Sweet...malted….meerkats."

"But there's a good thing that can come from this," Nick insisted. "We can get the tech department to recover any data left on the drive."

"Nicholas. You guys deleted my files. It's a flash drive! You can't do magnetic recovery on those."

"Well, what I would say is…help me out here, Carrots," Nick said, his smile frozen in place.

The doe walked over, closing the door gently to avoid anyone overhearing the conversation. She sighed, folding her arms and swallowing. "It's possible we can recover some of the data though. If the flash drive has been overwritten entirely, we're in trouble. But I don't know that we used up the whole range of available data. We might be able to get the techies to do individual chip extraction and analysis. We can probably salvage something."

Desmond exhaled, letting his breathing approach at least a close to normal rate again. He stepped back, brushing Nick's paw off his shoulder and frowning. "How long will that take?"

"With our team?" Nick pondered. "Probably around 3 hours max."

The atmosphere seemed at least less oppressive, although Nick was still kicking himself for the mistake they'd made. There was no way they could have known, but it certainly did little to make him feel better about it. With everything resting on their response time and performance, this setback could be fatal, and it wasn't any of their lives they were gambling with right now. If the information had been corrupted by their mistake, their main gambling stakes were blown. They would have nothing to give the gang. Nothing.

"We have to get the drive to our team immediately," Judy said, voicing Nick's thoughts.

"Right," Nick nodded. "You do that. I'm going to make some plans with Des. We need more than a plan B on this - I'm going all the way to G."

"I can certainly help," Desmond offered, smiling for the first time in the last few minutes. "I've done more research on the gang than the two of you combined. I know you infiltrated them, Nick, but it was my info that got you in to begin with. I was covering them for my channel. Thought I'd go full journalist."

Nick frowned. "You said you were sending me in so we could shut them down…"

His friend hesitated, looking slightly embarrassed. "I was. But nothing wrong with posting my scoop before telling the cops so I get the full better-than-officials badge, right? I'm an opportunist, Nick. You are too."

There was little Nick could say to refute this, so instead he simply opened the door wide and stepped out into the corridor, taking determined steps in the direction of the main stairs. With a huff of slight annoyance, Desmond followed behind him, stuffing his paws into his pockets.

"Hey, Nick, where are we going?" the younger fox asked.

"I can think better when I'm walking, pal," Nick said, spinning round for a moment to wave at Judy and continuing his walk as he did so, albeit, backwards. "Meet up soon, Carrots!"

The doe fired him a salute and hurried down the opposite end of the corridor, making a mental note to save the copied files of Desmond's channel videos before they were removed. They still couldn't predict if they would be useful at a later date, and it might be just as well to cover all bases. She made an extra note to grab a fresh coffee at the very earliest opportunity. Yesterday had been exhausting and stressful, and today looked to be no improvement on that.

Apprehension was the main feeling Nick experienced welling inside his gut as he stood outside the detainment room. He cracked his fingers as he waited to receive clearance to begin his 'interview' with the tiger they had picked up at the parking lot. The feeling was a curious one. He was not inclined to grow nervous when facing up to challenges, and this was only a fresh chance to employ the skills he had the most experience in using. His years on the streets gave him ample proficiency in dealing with verbally sophisticated situations, drawing information from individuals without them even knowing he was taking it. This was the job he was tasked with accomplishing now.

He popped his fingers, pushing his paws together and outwards with his digits interlocked.

Wolford needed him. Was that the reason he felt different this time? Was it the gravity of his responsibility? All of those years on the streets had one thing in common - the only one who flourished or suffered by his actions had been himself. It had been a selfish life of limited horizons, with easily obtained goals related to his own personal gratification. Something had changed, and not just between being a hustler and becoming a cop. A comparable change had taken place in only the last three months or so. Prior to that, he had trusted Judy, but barely anyone else had seemed trustworthy. Now he cared about a whole range of individuals, all of whom were important in his life.

Wolford...Judy...Bogo...Desmond….

His green eyes rested on the young fox who stood across from him, one leg tucked against the wall. The guilt he had felt while looking for Desmond had been a very unpleasant feeling. Before they found him at the Palm Hotel, the worst scenarios had presented themselves to Nick's imagination. It was one relief at least that Desmond was safe, even if it felt like he had traded one friend's safety for another.

"Nick? Desmond?"

The vulpines glanced over to see Judy approaching from down the hall. She nodded at both, stopping just short of the door.

"Did you get the drive?" Nick asked, straightening his posture.

She hesitated. "Yes. I've left the drive with Officer M. I. Gration. I stressed how urgent the case was. He'll be working on it as we proceed with our interrogation."

"Are you sure he can be trusted?" Nick said.

"We don't really have a choice anymore. Any time wasted is to our disadvantage. And Wolford's. We need to do this." The rabbit's voice was firm.

"Unless you stay with him…" the fox thought out loud.

"No Nick. I need to be here with you guys. We both know we get information from suspects better when working together."

Nick frowned, not altogether pleased with the news, but he accepted the reasoning. Judy needed to be here too, and this was one of their biggest leads right now. Chief Bogo had been adamant when contacted that, although he would let Nick be present at the interrogation,, the condition was that Judy was present as well. They couldn't take chances with the kinds of mammals in question. Nick had purposefully forgotten to mention getting Desmond involved too, although the fox had visibly wilted at the suggestion of accompanying them into the room.

"Ready to break some perps?" Judy asked, raising her paw and forming a fist.

"Absolutely," Nick replied, rather half-heartedly, meeting her fist with his own paw before he opened the door.

A putrid smell permeated the air, filling Wolford's nostrils and stirring him from the depths of unconsciousness. His body felt cold...vulnerable.

The darkness beckoned again, enveloping him as he sank again into a cool black void, his brain growing numb. It was the border between deep sleep and an awakening. A return to oblivion felt preferable somehow, but he knew it was unsustainable. Brief flashes of pain were already travelling his nervous system, making attempts to ignore them futile.

He opened his eyes, feeling his lids offer some resistance, glued shut by a buildup of crusted discharge. At first he could see nothing. Instinctively he raised his paws to his eyes, but found he could not move his wrists apart. Presumably he was bound. Then the pain smacked him, each of his fingers feeling stiff and on fire. The room was dark, and for a brief moment he wondered if he had been blinded by something. Blurred shapes slowly pierced the gloom however, and his vision gradually took in his surroundings.

The room was fairly large, with smooth but dirty stone walls. It gave the appearance of being perhaps some kind of basement or storeroom, cleared out of most of whatever used to be in there, but with the occasional rusted wire box. A neglected pile of bricks and building tools sat in the far left corner. The stench lingered, and now the pain began to make itself known more eloquently.

Wolford winced, blinking again to rid his eyes of the final traces of sleep. He scrunched his muzzle at the smell. A sharp throbbing pain speared his head, almost causing him to yelp audibly, although his training kicked in before he made a sound. It was too dangerous to make himself heard without fully understanding his situation. Thankfully, the pain dissipated as quickly as it had come.

It was now that he became aware of how cold he felt. Looking down at himself, the canid realised he had been stripped bare. He lay with his upper back against the cool wall of the room. Ugly patches of dirt, blood and clumped fur marked his body, and a deep gash was evident on his right thigh.

He sucked in air, the intake tasting stale on his parched tongue. There didn't appear to be any windows in whatever place he was being kept in. Coughing slightly, he forced himself into a sitting position, ignoring the ache this brought to his limbs.

Wolford threw his mind back to his survival training. The first thing he had to establish was whether he was in current danger from his injuries. Ignoring the pain it caused him, the wolf twisted to gain as much of a view of his body as was possible. From a quick inspection, informed by the level of pain he experienced with each move, it appeared that he had no injuries which were imminently life threatening.

Checking his wrists, he could see they were tied with a black cord, bound so tightly the fur around the cord was stained with dried blood. His fingers looked out of shape, brutalised by the gang members. With great effort, he pushed with his legs to force his back up against the wall, grimacing as the gash in his thigh stung under the pressure. He made it to a standing position, catching his breath slowly.

Now that the check over his body was complete, his next priority was a full check over the room to find a possible way out.

Mind still whirring, Wolford stepped away from the wall, cautious to avoid the rubble and sharp pieces of metal which were scattered on the floor. It had obviously been a long time since any building work had been done in the room, although the presence of supplies told him that the place had most likely never been put to a specific function before it was closed off, and perhaps in a hurry. It was incomplete.

Walls, bricks, wire, a broken bathtub filled with grimy water. Not exactly prime accommodation, although the final item caught his attention. It was a once white bathtub which now bore dirty smudge marks, but, curiously, less dust and dirt than the other items in the room. It was clearly a more recent addition. A central wire hung from the ceiling with a light bulb at the end, dangling loosely. None of this information brought him closer to finding a means of escape, but he kept his mind processing it all, hoping to come up with some kind of answer.

In truth, the memories of how he got here and what had happened before the event were murky. He remembered being in the parking lot when the sirens had sounded, causing the gang to disperse, but what happened after that was still hazy. He could still feel the sensation of being dragged along the ground. Everything else was gone. There was no way of knowing how long he had been here either, but he assumed it couldn't have been too long. A day? Less?

Wolford's eyes rested on the only door in the room, a metal frame set in the middle of the left wall. He didn't know if it was a good idea to move towards it or not, but his options were looking exceedingly limited right now. He took one hesitant step forward, and the light in the centre of the room flashed on.

The room inside was plain, undecorated and functional. Four whitewashed walls offered no point of distraction or comfort for the suspect. The lights were bright enough so that the officers could scrutinise every twitch made on the mammal's face, drawing upon their experience in reading body language. A central table seated the tiger on one side, his large paws constrained to a bar on the tabletop, triple locked for added security.

As the officers approached, the hulking mammal glanced up at them, squinting, then he smiled.

"Good to see you again, Officers Wilde and Hopps. I must say, the bruising doesn't feel great, but you both operated very effectively."

"Your bruising at this five star venue is our first priority," Nick bowed with a flourish.

The fox and rabbit took a seat on the other side of the table, making sure that they were sufficient distance so the tiger couldn't lurch forward across the table at them. It was certainly bad manners to use one's jaws in a fight, but they didn't reckon this specimen had received the finest upbringing in etiquette. Distance was almost certainly preferable.

"Now," Judy smiled, placing her paws on the table and meeting the big cat's eyes. "Would you like to tell us who you work for?"

He looked at her as though she were stupid. "Did you not listen to the otter?"

"Oh, we know, we know," Nick said smoothly, "you work for a tinsy otter. But you don't expect us to believe that a powerhouse like you only answers to one of Zootopia's smallest?"

The tiger chuckled, his chest expanding a little. "I-" He hesitated, resting his gaze on Desmond, who slipped in a few moments after the partners. There was a pause which lasted for only a second as the two saw each other, the fox making the slightest hesitation before stepping inside and taking a place at the wall just by the door. Nick barely noticed that there had been any change on the tiger's face, instead glancing around at his friend. Judy did not miss the brief look of confusion before it was covered with indifference.

"I don't know if you expect me to answer that, or if you're just starting a conversation," the tiger smirked.

"At the moment, we would really appreciate an answer, as we are a little short on time, and your cooperation would just mean the world to us," Nick said, placing his palms flat on the table.

The felid barely took note of the two mammals in front of him anymore, looking instead over their heads at the door with not very subtle contempt.

"So how long have you worked for this group?" Judy asked, her voice flat.

"First job."

She hesitated, not expecting to get an answer so soon, which she knew meant it was almost certainly a lie. "Okay, and what did you do before this 'first job'? Our records are surprisingly sparse on you right after high school. You must have done something with yourself for the last decade."

"I worked freelance."

"There are no records of declared income on your tax returns," Judy challenged.

"And Judy here is very good at finding tax cheats," Nick added with a grin, one that earned a brief flicker of a smile from the grey bunny.

The tiger sat back, taking a more casual position as he flicked his eyes to Nick before looking to Judy again. "Well, as I'm in jail already, I suppose I might as well confess. I didn't declare my tax liability on my self-employed earnings."

Nick tutted, shaking his head. "Imagine that. You know you have a duty to society when it comes to paying taxes?"

The fox felt his partner kick him under the table, and he suppressed a slight smile at the gesture. The tiger just looked at him blankly with no real interest in taking up that point.

"I've told you," the cat sighed, "this was my first job with the gang. I had no contact with them prior to this. I was recruited for one basic task, no questions asked, and they gave me no indication of any other part of their structure. Now is there anything else I can help you with, officers?"

Judy felt her ears turning warmer by the second. She hated being stonewalled by criminals. It was clear that the tiger was hiding something. His feigned ignorance would have been a whole lot more convincing if it wasn't so convincing, ironically. It was rehearsed. Polished. The rabbit sat back, narrowing her eyes and considering for a moment.

"Yes, there is actually." She glanced across the room, catching the eyes of Nick's friend. "Do you two know each other?"

The door swung open, sending the slightest breeze onto Wolford's body as it did so. He stood facing the entrance, squinting his eyes at the sudden influx of light from above. After a few seconds, the door closed again.

Three mammals had entered the room with him. He instantly recognised the otter from the parking lot, clothed now in darker trousers and a tight, sage green top. The other two mammals he did not recognise. One was a cheetah, his muscular body covered by a smart black grey shirt and trousers. The felid had an unnervingly placid expression as he scrutinised the wolf. Next to him was another wolf, this one with a lighter brown fur colouring. The lupine had his paws stuffed in his khaki trousers, and his crumpled orange top stood out in contrast to the much more professional attire of the cheetah.

"Officer Wolford," the otter - who Wolford recalled having heard Nick refer to as Vincent - stated coolly. "I'm glad you're awake. How are you feeling?"

The wolf considered his next move, deciding unequivocally that any kind of combat was out of the question. He was too weak for an engagement, and the gang members had the advantage of numbers.

"A little exposed," Wolford said.

The otter coughed. "Yes, it's not the most dignified treatment, but," he shrugged in a fluid motion, "we're not here to make you feel comfortable. Although I do encourage you to help yourself here as much as possible. Which, in the most basic sense, means talking. Give us the information we want and this will be so much easier for you."

Wolford fixed him in his gaze, keeping his expression unreadable. His mind fought against the drowsiness which was carried over from his maltreatment. If there was some way for him to provide certain information without revealing anything confidential, now was the time to think.

"Why were you in the parking lot?" Vincent asked, folding his paws behind his back.

"We had something we wanted to check out."

"And what, or who, was that precisely?" the otter inquired.

Wolford considered, shifting on his feet with a new wash of pain, even though he knew this motion displayed uncertainty. He couldn't tip the gang off about Desmond. The fox had already been through enough peril, and was hopefully with Nick and Judy now, giving them the info they needed. He would not jeopardise his safety.

"Nick was trying to retrieve the files you requested," Wolford finally explained.

"From that location?"

"It was a possibility. I was never entirely sure where Nick had placed them."

Vincent frowned, turning away for a moment. His slim form moved a few paces, then he looked back at the wolf. "There's something you're not telling me, of course."

"I'm telling you precisely what you asked to know," the canid stressed.

"Who was the contact?"

The words caught in Wolford's throat for a moment as he tried to decide how to deflect this new question. "Nick had left the files there himself. There was no contact. We were there for the files"

"Is that so?" The otter hummed to himself, narrowing his eyes as he renewed his steady pace around the room. "Then who was the fox?"

A new challenge.

"Fox?"

"Officer Wolford, don't play games with me. It's tiresome. There was a fox in the parking lot just a short distance away, and, curiously, exactly where you were heading before we...intervened. Do you know his name?"

The room began to feel increasingly claustrophobic. The wolf's gaze shifted from his captors to the dirt and moisture on the far wall. Despite his predicament, he made a mental note that he must be somewhere damp, perhaps near some source of water. The docks?

"I don't know his name. He was a contact Nick knew, and he refused to let me in on that information. He's secretive. You of all people should know that."

"So you admit you just lied to me about not having a contact?"

"Yes."

Vincent shook his head patronisingly. "Then why should I believe you now?"

"Because you've just pinned me down."

Vincent considered this for a moment, smiling to himself. He glanced at the cheetah and wolf to his side, then nodded slowly. "Alright. You're good. I might just believe that. What was your next move?"

"We were going to retrieve the documents, then return them to you as soon as we had them. Really, you've only delayed your own objectives by doing this," Wolford sighed, staring down at his bloody and mangled paws. The pain was still intense, but he had no choice other than to override it until the exchange was complete. "The only losers here are yourselves. We were ready to give the files back to you. All of this is unnecessary."

"I'm impressed," the otter said smoothly. "Really, I am. You've either given me the answers I wanted, or you've deflected every question so far. Given your experience, I would assume the latter. It's no concern really. We already know everything we need. The boss has been in contact with Nicholas."

Wolford allowed his shoulders to slump, feeling furious at himself immediately afterwards for letting another gesture of weakness be seen. It showed defeat, and declared that he had been found out. He stared at the otter, then glanced at the cheetah and wolf, before looking back to Vincent. "Then what do you want?"

A chuckle filled the room as Vincent shook his head, evidently both amused and pleased with the question. "You're not here to give us information on Nick Wilde. You're here because you are one of his key assets. Do you think we're foolish? Had we waited for him to return the files, would he have given us the originals? No copies made? Nothing shared to incriminate us? Doubtful. How about a little pressure then?"

The otter sucked in his breath, relishing his words as if enjoying a succulent meal. "He needs to know that he's no longer banking on his own life. Not only is he without your support, now he needs to think about what we might do to you." He pulled a phone out of his pocket, tapping away at the screen. "Even better, we should show him."

Wolford swallowed, his ears pricking up. The room now felt smaller than ever.

"On that note," Vincent mused, tapping his chin with his fingers as a smile spread across his muzzle, "why don't we have some fun?"

"Why would we know each other?" Desmond spluttered, frowning in confusion. He looked from Nick to Judy to the tiger, then back again.

"It's just a question," Judy explained casually, confused by Desmond's nervous response.

"I've never seen this fox before," the tiger grunted, rubbing his eyes wearily. "Now, aside from asking me about things I haven't done, is there anything else you'd like to know?"

Nick tapped one finger on the table thoughtfully, looking at Judy for a moment. What was going on in her head? Normally he could tell what she was thinking. After working so long together, he trusted that he knew her pretty well, but even he couldn't surmise why she had thrown that question out there. He made a mental note to bring it up with her later.

"Okay pal," Nick smiled, turning his attention back to the perp. "You say you never worked for this gang prior last night's job?"

"Never."

"But you know you were there for a mission, right?" the fox continued.

"To pick up your friend and to get some files from you, yes."

"And you do realise that if it's not true, that you only just started working for the gang, that'll be in the files you've just admitted are in my possession?"

There was a moment's pause. The tiger stared, making only the slightest twitch of his whiskers while he met the fox's eyes. This close to his face, Nick could see that the tiger took one gulp, trying to hide the motion as much as possible. Finally, the felid hardened his gaze, attempting to appear unphased.

"Then it will confirm exactly what I've just told you, of course."

"And you're willing to stand by your statements, given that knowledge?" Nick pressed.

"Absolutely."

The vulpine grinned, sliding his palms across the table as he brought them back to his lap. He breathed in, considering whether it was worth pushing the point further. Thinking back to his past experience in peddling sales, there was a subtle line of advantage which was attained with just the right amount of suggestion. Too much of it diminished that advantage. He would let the tiger turn it over in his head, hopefully leaving him more susceptible to future questioning, especially if they could prove that they really did have hard evidence against his claims.

"Well buddy, it's been a pleasure speaking with you," Nick winked. "I think we've covered everything that needs to be said, unless…" he flicked his eyes at his partner, "...Officer Hopps has anything to add?"

Judy shrugged, pushing herself away from the table and dropping down from her chair. "No, I agree. We've covered everything. The suspect has been untypically cooperative," she said, sarcasm lacing her voice.

With Nick following closely behind, the doe marched away from the table and towards the door. Desmond peeled himself away from the wall as they passed, staring curiously at Judy. The rabbit did not meet his gaze until after they had exited the room and the door was firmly closed behind them.

"What was that about?" the younger fox asked, stuffing his paws into his pocket and sounding just a little frustrated.

"I had to come up with something that might throw him," she explained, brushing off the question. "It seemed like something that would take him by surprise enough that he would be primed for Nick to move onto a more thorough grilling."

"Which I did, incidentally," her partner added, clearly proud of himself.

Desmond looked uncertain, but nodded slowly. "Okay, well I guess it worked. Although I can't say we got much out of that guy."

"We got more than you think," Nick said.

"Oh?"

"Well," Judy explained, "he's now on record as claiming that this was his first connection with the gang. As soon as we get those files back from the IT department, we can prove his lie to be what it is."

Desmond considered this for a moment, shifting his stance. "I don't follow. Why would that help? Are you trying to build a case against him? Because lying doesn't add much to what you already have against him. He's never denied involvement in last night's incident."

Nick stepped forward, smirking. "But it does tell us that the gang primed him to deny any previous involvement. That means whatever jobs he did before this most likely had some level of importance and could be traced back to them, given that they already know we are aware of their basic operations. It might give us a location. We work backwards, you see. He won't tell us what he did before this, but that tells us it's a biggie. We use the information you and I gleaned to determine what that was, and it just might give us something to run with." He adjusted his collar. "We need a location. They know we are aware of their counterfeiting and intimidation rings, so what else could be important to them that he's primed to deny?"

"Wilde," his friend sighed, "that's not even a shot in the dark. That's...drawing dots yourself just to connect them."

"You might be right," the fox admitted. "But let's just see how it pans out. It's not as if we have many other options open to us right now."

"Actually," Judy corrected, "the results from that drive should be coming back to us just about now." She flipped her phone out of her pocket. "Time to get some answers."

Wolford lay on the ground, his arms pulled close to himself to allow his paws to reach his bleeding nose. His mind, already groggy from the treatment he had received in the parking lot, was refreshed with new pain. Red liquid dribbled from where the cheetah had hurled a blow to his face.

Moving his legs in a vain attempt to shuffle further back, Wolford glowered over his paws up at Vincent. The otter tilted his head to one side, regarding the larger predator with curiosity.

"Are you angry with me, Officer Wolford?" he smiled. "You shouldn't be. This really is going to be very professional."

The brown-furred wolf standing by his side reached down and grabbed Wolford by his neck, yanking him up from the ground before pushing him forcefully against the nearest wall. The brickwork scratched at his body, although his pelt protected him from any skin breakage. The fellow lupine met his eyes, but nothing showed, not even hatred or contempt. This was just a job to him. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a penknife, pulling the blade out from the handle with smooth purpose.

"Move your paws from your nose and look at me, Wolford," Vincent said, pacing slowly.

The officer merely glared at him, squeezing tighter around his bleeding face. The wolf holding him suddenly jerked the knife forward, slamming it into Wolford's left paw. The blade buried itself halfway through, threatening to break through the skin of his palm underneath.

Wolford howled as the lupine dragged his paws down and away from his face with the handle of the knife. A crackling sensation fired up from his paw and through his forearm with the movement. He felt his stomach heave, making him want to retch.

"I said," the otter repeated cooly, "move your paws from your nose and look at me."

"To hell with you," Wolford spat, gritting his teeth, tasting blood on his lips from where his nose was still bleeding.

"Well that's more than possible," the otter conceded, stuffing his paws into his pockets and sweeping around smoothly, crossing his legs in front of him in a casual stance. "In the meantime, I wonder if there's anything you'd like to share with us?"

"You said you didn't want information," the officer growled.

The brown wolf next to him jerked the knife back with force, sliding it out of his paw. Fresh pain electrified Wolford's arm as the wound began to seep.

"That's for me to decide, wouldn't you say?" the otter replied. "That being said, you're right. I was...curious, you might say. Our main task here isn't to interrogate you. If it was, I would recommend dumping your head in that bath until you told us something."

Without further warning, the cheetah walked forward, grabbing Wolford tightly by the arms and dragging him to the far corner of the room. He dropped him to his knees in front of the bathtub, its stained and rusted edge pressing against the wolf's chest. The murky water rippled in front of him with the vibration, dust and slime on the surface floating aimlessly, trapped in the tub.

"Let's make this easy for you, Wolford," he heard Vincent's voice saying from across the room. "It's a game. A trivia quiz. I'm gonna give you ten seconds to answer the question. If you give a good answer, you get thirty seconds under. Every second over ten adds another five seconds to your time under. A bad answer gets you a minute under. Simple enough?"

The lupine swallowed, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the murky froth in front of him. His heart was pounding, fueled by adrenaline and pain. The wall beyond the bathtub was already blurring over. His mind refused to focus. Shaking his head, he grimaced. Whatever they did, he could not give away details which could affect his friends or the ZPD.

"First question for you..."

Wolford glared, forcing his brain to focus. The grip of the cheetah behind him was tight, sharp claws burrowing into his fur.

"How many libraries are there in Savannah Central?"

For a moment, Wolford thought he'd misheard. He tried to make sense of what he had just been asked, running it through his mind again. Why were they asking him this? How could this be dangerous in any way to answer?

"Come on, Officer Wolford. I told you it's a game. We're just having fun, you and I."

"Th-three," Wolford stammered, shrugging off the confusion.

"You're absolutely correct," Vincent said, his voice full of amusement. "Unfortunately, you were a little slow on that one. I'm afraid you've got forty seconds to prepare for the next question, starting...now."

The world jerked forward and Wolford felt his head plunged under the disgusting water. The coldness of it startled him most of all, followed shortly afterwards by sickening nausea. The filthy liquid stung his wounded nose and seeped into his ears. Instinctively, he tried to move his paws to wipe it away, only to remember that his paws were still bound tightly.

Time dragged, then he felt himself hurled backwards out of the grime. He gasped for breath as his head emerged from the bathtub again, fur soaked. The wolf's body shuddered violently, both from shock and chill. He blinked open his eyes. Particles of grit had managed to find their way in.

"How many lions have held office as Mayor of Zootopia?"

The lupine tried to speak instantly, but felt his vocal chords refusing to work for him. His body was rebelling against the harsh treatment. Swallowing, he managed to get his answer out. "Two."

"Very good!" Vincent soothed. "And in under ten seconds, no less. Let's call that thirty seconds under."

With equal force, Wolford's face was pushed under the water again, this time with less preparation. He only just managed to squeeze his eyes closed before he was submerged. Worse, he had not managed to take a gulp of air before going under. It proved to be a long thirty seconds.

The wall came back into focus, and he realised that the cheetah had pulled him out again.

"How long do you intend to do this?" Wolford growled.

"Oh, at least until the docks are clear. Now please, be quiet and listen to the next question."

The officer readied himself, gritting his teeth.

"Does Nicholas Wilde have the complete files he owes us?"

"Yes," Wolford spat. "And he was going to give them to you. We do not have copies."

Silence.

Wolford cocked his ears, wondering if he had said too much or too little. He tensed his body, preparing for whatever might be coming.

"Bad answer. We'll make this one a little longer."

The water greeted him once more, its iciness shocking his body. He kept his eyes squeezed tightly shut to avoid any more grit or debris getting inside, but there was nothing he could do for his nose. Clamping his mouth shut as securely as he could, the lupine waited, counting.

Thirty seconds.

His heart began to beat faster under the strain of holding his breath, especially in his weakened state.

Forty seconds.

He could do this. They were trying to break him, but they still needed him. However long they were planning to keep this up, it wouldn't be enough to kill him.

Sixty seconds.

The drumming in his chest intensified as slight panic crept over him. His throat tightened, and he was forced to resist the urge to open his mouth in an attempt to gasp for air.

Eighty seconds.

His chest began to burn. Despite his best efforts to remain still, his limbs began to rebel against the situation, beginning with a slight kick from his leg. He tried to control it, but he soon found himself thrashing against his will.

One hundred seconds.

Unable to resist any longer, he opened his mouth, water flooding in. He gulped it down, desperate for air, eyes now wide and stinging. His nostrils flared, burning. He was choking, taking in the foul liquid. With a violent twist, he pushed his legs hard against the ground in an attempt to stand, feeling the weight of the cheetah holding his shoulders down.

Then it was over. Wolford found himself hurled backwards from the water with enough force to throw him onto his back, lying gasping on the hard floor. He coughed, bringing up water and bile, twisting onto his stomach in an attempt to force the water out of his lungs. The burning feeling was even worse than before, as if his heart had burst in his chest. Every breath brought on a fresh coughing fit.

Slowly, Wolford regained control over his body, regulating his breathing and slowing to a normal rate. His heart still thumped heavily, but less violently than before. He became aware of Vincent standing close by, staring down at him.

"Wolford?" the otter said, his voice mockingly soothing.

The lupine glanced up, eyes narrowing in hatred and pain, just in time to hear a clicking sound.

"There," Vincent smiled, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "You take a great portrait. I've been told that Nick will appreciate an update on how you're doing. Might even make him work a little faster."

"So he can get the files to your boss?" Wolford wheezed. "Must be nice working for a ferret," he taunted, despite the pain.

"I don't work for Rake."

"Well I doubt you're his boss either, so what does that make you?"

Vincent ignored the question. "You're still bleeding. Cold water should stop that until we can get someone to see to that paw of yours." He glanced over at the cheetah, jerking his head.

Without a word, the large felid grabbed Wolford's form and lifting him up again, dropping him into the bathtub. His body sank, leaving just his neck and head above the water. The sensation was a shock at first, but he refused to allow it to show on his face.

"That'll limit the bleeding," Vincent explained with fake concern. "We'll try to be fast. The worst you'll get is pneumonia."

With that, he turned and marched for the door, the cheetah and wolf following him silently. After a few moments, Wolford heard the door slam closed behind them, signalling their departure.

He shuddered, doing his best to avoid vomiting. The coldness of the water was at least taking his mind off his most recent injuries. It would be a miracle if infection didn't set in. Despite his pain, he allowed himself the briefest smile. Apparently the perps had never heard of reverse interrogation. Sometimes interrogators could get so caught up in the satisfaction of hurting their prisoners that they themselves let their own guard down.

Without thinking, Vincent had told him something about the structure in the gang which perhaps even Nick didn't know. Rake wasn't his boss, which either meant that the otter was a contracted member working for another gang, or that Rake wasn't calling the final shots.

Wolford let his head sink just a little into the water, feeling the numbness creep over him. Smiling once again, he struggled against the desire to lose consciousness.

He had a lead. Now all he needed was to be rescued.

Nick checked his phone one more time, anxious in case he should miss a new communication from the criminal ring. He scratched the back of his neck, unsatisfied with the interrogation results. The caribou they had picked up from the parking lot proved to be no more forthcoming with information than the tiger had been. Sure, they could nail both of them once they proved previous involvement in the gang's activities, but how did that help Wolford right now?

Gritting his teeth, he tried to suppress a growl of frustration. Time was running short. The suspects they had apprehended were not proving to be of much use in their investigation. The only thing that could make them break in such a short amount of time would be...force.

The fox shook his head, rejecting the thought. It was against all principles of the ZPD. He doubted they would have the same hesitations about using that kind of persuasion, but he was better than that. The only lead they reasonably had now was the flash drive.

"Back," Judy announced, swinging into the cramped office which they had commandeered on the ground floor. Her departure to retrieve the drive while Desmond and Nick did some extra planning had only taken a few minutes.

"Let's see it," Nick exclaimed, snatching the drive from his partner and inserting it into the laptop which sat primed on the workdesk. "Des, ready!" he shouted to the back of the room, awakening his friend, who had dozed off while waiting for news, meaning that no plans had been forthcoming.

"They said it was incomplete but-" Judy began.

"Holy…" Nick stared at the screen, gripping the edge of the table.

"What is it?" Desmond asked, peering over his shoulder. His expression fell as quickly as Nick's tone had done. "That's...less than 30% of what you collected."

"Just some incomplete listings of names and contacts…" Nick said slowly.

"It's gone?" Judy asked, glancing between the two of them.

Her partner nodded. "Which means we don't have anything like the advantage we need if we wanted to expose the gang, and we're not going to be returning their files in full. They'll know this."

"We could tell them what happened…" Desmond ventured, moving a little back from the table and stuffing his paws into his pockets.

"Not good enough, pal," Nick swallowed. "You really think they'd believe us? That we haven't made copies?"

His friend didn't respond for a moment. "They might…" he offered weakly.

"Is there anything on here which we can use against the gang?" Judy said, ears drooping but eyes roaming furiously through the list of documents and storage files.

"Of course there is!" Nick cried, pushing away from the table in frustration. "But there's not enough to win back Wolford. We can't send this! They'll think we're playing them. They'll kill him."

His last words hung in the air, pressing home the gravity of their dilemma. Judy felt a mixture of anger, helplessness and determination. Failure was not an option here, and she'd never been very good at giving up. One way or another, they would get Wolford back. She hadn't let the gang take Nick, she wouldn't let them take Wolford.

She looked at her partner, who seemed crushed by the recent hurdle. Of course, any other mammal would think he was unreadable, but she had learned his patterns. He was hiding his disappointment and worry, but it was there, and it was building.

"I'd better update the chief," Judy said, frowning as her brain whirred, trying to come up with a new strategy. "We might need to pull the full force into this, regardless of the risk."

"Yeah," Nick nodded, his tone flat. "You do that."

After another compassionate glance at her partner and a gentle squeeze of his shoulder, Judy left the room, hurrying as fast as she could to pay a visit to the chief.

Alone in the office with Desmond, Nick grunted, yanking the drive from the computer. He squeezed it in his paw, almost tempted to break it. Enough common sense remained to hold him back from doing that, despite his frustration.

"Are you okay?" Desmond asked quietly, voice uncertain.

Nick felt like laughing, but caught himself before he did so. It would seem cruel. Instead, he turned his chair and looked his friend up and down. "Not really, all things considered."

"Same," the younger fox admitted, looking down at the carpet. He smiled, noticing that this was newer than the threadbare carpet in the room upstairs.

"What are we going to do, Des?"

"You're asking me?" Desmond sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I wish we'd never taken those files. It's my fault. I shouldn't have dragged you into this."

"I agreed to it."

"Yes, but I was using our friendship, in a way. Now your friends are suffering for it."

"Des," Nick said, pulling his pen out of his shirt pocket and twirling it thoughtfully in his fingers. "We don't have time for looking back. What can we realistically do to save Wolford?"

"I..." His friend held his breath, looking up and thinking.

"What do you think we can do?" Nick repeated.

Desmond stared, his blue eyes strangely unreadable. Eventually, he swallowed. "What do you think, Nick? You sound like you have a plan."

"I think we need an exchange."

"They won't take the files, Nick. We just established that. We have too few and they'll never believe we haven't made copies...if they ever would have believed that anyway," Desmond muttered, looking downcast.

"They want something more than the files."

The younger fox met his gaze again, once more strangely unreadable.

"They want me," Nick finished, clicking the pen before stuffing it back into his pocket.

"You're...proposing a trade?"

"It's all I can do. I will not allow Wolford to die. The only thing I can give them...is me."

Desmond shook his head slowly, frowning. "Nick, you don't know where they are."

"But I can contact them. We don't have a location, but there's enough information on this drive for us at least to find a number. They'd never give us a location normally, but if I tell them what I'm offering, they just might."

"They'll hurt you," his friend said, going still as he watched Nick's reaction carefully.

"They will. But it's me or Wolford now. We're out of options." The officer glanced around before slowly leaving his seat and closing the door to the office. He turned around to look his younger friend in the face, expression grave. "I need your help."

"What can I do?"

Nick swallowed, forcing the words out robotically before his brain had a chance to disagree. "I need you to help me arrange a meeting with Rake. You need to come with me to make sure Wolford actually is returned, and to alert Judy if that doesn't happen. She can't come with me."

"Nick?"

"She'll never let me go through with this, but more to the point, if she comes, the gang will try to take both of us. If I don't go, they'll kill Wolford and will only keep coming for us anyway. We don't have the files to blow their cover and expose their cells, so it'd only be a matter of time before they take me down, and Judy too. At least this way they have a good reason to lay off." He finished, surprised that he managed to get his thoughts out in a coherent manner.

Desmond paused, turning this over in his mind. "But why wouldn't they come for Judy as soon as they have you?"

"Because they won't know that we don't have the complete files. We can tell them that while my disappearance can be passed off as an accident, both of us vanishing cannot." Nick sucked in some breath then continued. "If they lay a paw on her, you will release the files. It's a bluff, but they won't know any better! They don't even know about you, remember, so I can tell them I gave the files to an undisclosed source." Nick considered for a moment. "Besides, I have another idea. A hustle. Judy can help me, and she will. We'll trick the gang, but I need to speak with Judy about that first. I'll give myself over, but that's not the end. I know she'll help me with this, but I need you to do your part first."

For the longest time, Desmond held Nick's gaze. There was something which Nick couldn't place in his expression, but he didn't have time to think about it. He wanted an answer. They were out of time. He would have to contact Rake first before telling Judy what he was doing, or else she would stop him. He only hoped she could forgive him for that.

"Okay," Desmond finally sighed. "I'll help you find the gang. You've no idea how hard this is for me, Nick. I wish I could talk you out of it." He smiled sincerely, his voice filled with sadness. "I guess the best I can do is promise you that you can trust me to do my part. I'll make sure the gang never know what's really taking place."

Nick grinned, which was one of the hardest things he'd done all morning. He patted the younger fox on the shoulder, glad to have a friend he could confide in. "You and me, pal. Like old times."

Desmond nodded slowly. "Yeah, like old times."

Author's Note:

Once again, let me stress my appreciation for how much you guys have encouraged me. I can't believe it's been so long since I updated, but this is the first time I'm officially announcing that this story has passed its first anniversary! I began this fic on April 12th 2016, which means the anniversary is actually rather old news (I am writing this on 25th September). Nevertheless, this year and a half has been an incredible experience for me, and I cannot thank you all enough for your continued support. Your warm welcome made this venture possible and kept me motivated when it was possible I could have abandoned the fic, as some probably thought I had done (I don't blame you). I won't make promises to get the next chapter out faster, because although that is my endeavor, I've learned that life throws curveballs in my direction whenever I make plans. I will certainly try my best.

Until then, may I invite you once again to check out fics by some of my good friends, including Something Stinks by Omnitrix12 and The Short List by BookerOfWit. Also, you may well be interested in checking out the What If project by Cimar of Turalis/WildeHopps. It's an anthology of stories written by authors from around the Zootopia fandom and takes AU ideas for Zootopia, keeping things fresh.

If you would like to leave reviews, I would be really grateful for that. It's always nice having something to read myself! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter.

Finally, this story is only four follows away from the mighty 1000. Honestly, I am speechless when I see that number. I recall when I first set out on this journey that I was so elated with my first few follows, I thought I would cry if I ever reached 1k. To say I didn't expect the story to reach that goal is an understatement. I owe that to all of you, and I appreciate each and every follow, fav and review I've received. Thanks guys.

As I close, I'm afraid I won't post here my customary response to the accumulated guest reviews. It's been so long, many of them are just too outdated and it would seem redundant to reply to messages as far back as April. Instead, I shall make a general statement of gratitude. Thank you to all my guest reviewers who left me messages. I love you guys and will most certainly reply to any and all reviews from this point onwards. Please don't hesitate to reach out in PMs too. I'm always up for a chat.

Until next time!

-AF