10

"Okay, listen to me," Judy told her two companions. "We can't rush in there guns blazing. Someone needs to check out the perimeter to make sure it's safe."

Jackson looked back at her over the headrest. "We're professionals, Hopps. We know what we're doing."

"Then you know you risk loads of lives by just letting the SWAT team run in there?"

"The SWAT team won't just run inside. They need to set up the lights first," said Wolford. "Calm down, Hopps."

She slumped back into her seat and looked out of the window. "I'm sorry, I've never been sent on a SWAT mission before."

It felt very quiet. There were no mammals hovering around the Canyonlands except the lone police car she was sitting in and Finnick's van – still unnoticed – beyond the greenery. She desperately wanted to get out of the car and find out what the fennec fox was up to, but she couldn't risk getting herself into trouble again, or Finnick and Flash for that matter. That was if Flash was even there; Finnick had said he was driving the sloth back home.

"Please let me go out there," she said. "I'm small, it will be easier for me to hide and let you know what the situation is."

Jackson shook his head. "I don't think so. If they see you, you'll blow everything. Plus, if you get hurt-"

"I'm wearing my police armour," she said. "I'll be careful, trust me."

Wolford looked at the tiger and shrugged his shoulders. "She has a point. She is small, and there's enough rocks and coverage. It would be easier to hide her than either of us out there."

Jackson exhaled through his nose and waved a paw. "Fine. But take your radio and fill us in. Understood? If we let you mess this up, the Chief will have all three of our heads."

Wolford sighed. "Tell me about it. I really don't want another tail kicking off him again."

Judy thanked them and slipped out of the car, closing the door as silently as she could. It was so hot, and it wasn't even close to noon. She understood why most mammals in Sahara Square opt to become nocturnal and spend all day inside air conditioned homes. Compared to Downtown it was deathly quiet.

She threw the tranquilliser gun onto her back and crept along the road, keeping herself low while keeping one eye on the warehouse. It too appeared empty, the windows either boarded up or covered with blinds to keep out the sun and heat. Like the other buildings in this area of Zootopia they were a rustic orange-brown, the stonework worn from violent sandstorms. The crags from the Canyonlands were also heavily weathered, smooth unlike the kind you'd find in a mountain.

She dropped onto her hands and feet and scurried along the outcrop until it ran out, then launched herself behind a tough shrubbery. Her paws struck something soft and she went rolling tail over head with her limbs locked with those of another small mammal. Her unsuspecting victim hissed at her to get off and she pulled herself free, crouching a mere few inches away from the rather irritated fennec fox.

"Finnick?" she hissed back at him. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"Rescuin' Nick," he whispered. "And it was goin' fine until you tackled me."

"It was not going fine. There are an unknown number of armed mammals inside that warehouse. You're going to get yourself killed!"

"Relax, I'm wearin' a bullet proof vest under my shirt."

"But it's not exactly covering your head is it?"

She shook her head and pulled the shrubbery apart with her paws to see beyond it. She had a clear view of the door. One cat sat beside it with a shot gun resting against his legs. One guard. That couldn't be right. If Marcello had sent information back through the wire tap, shouldn't there be more of them?

"I was gonna take him out," said Finnick. "I'd had it planned. Smack him then see how many are inside."

"There's got to be more than one guard," she said. "Did you check the rear?"

"Of course I did. Door's boarded up. No one gets in or out that way."

"One entrance and exit." She picked up her radio and pressed the button, creating a static buzz from the earpiece. "I can see the door. One cat sat on guard. He seems to be sleeping, but he has a shot gun. The back door is boarded up completely, so there's no getting in that way."

"You got all that quick," came Wolford's voice directly into her ear. "Nimble bunny. Guess we didn't make a bad choice letting you go out."

"There's just one problem," she said. "Why is there only one guard? I'm worried there's more hiding somewhere, or they're all armed and waiting inside."

"We won't know until we find out," said Wolford. "The SWAT team is setting up lights nearby. Do you have a clear shot of the cat? If you can tranq him then that will clear the front."

"I can try." Judy reached for the gun and aimed it at the feline. "I only have one shot at this and he's a fair way away."

"Well, don't blow your cover, Hopps," said Wolford. "If you can't hit him from where you are, get closer."

She took that advice, keeping herself low while crawling from the bushes. The next cover was a few feet away, and her uniform and fur didn't exactly blend in well with sand. Finnick dragged her back by the collar of her shirt and reached for her gun.

"Finnick, what are you doing?" she hissed.

He said nothing, scurrying out of the foliage and across the sand. Unlike her, he blended in much easier, although his shirt stood out, not to mention his oversized bat was fastened clumsily to his back. Once he'd reached the next plant – a cactus – he leant around it and fired off the gun. Its silenced shot sounded no louder than a thump on the arm. The cat's ears didn't even twitch, but once the dart found its home in the soft flesh of his shoulder he let out a yelp and leapt to his feet, tugging the feathered dart free. He reached for his fallen gun, scanning his green eyes over the perimeter, but he wasn't standing for long. The sedative took quick action and he crumpled to the ground.

Judy buzzed for the police car once more. "The cat is down. There's no sign of any other guards."

"Excellent, we'll be with you shortly. Stay undercover."

She couldn't stay undercover. Finnick was moving forwards with her dart gun. She leapt from the bushes and ran towards him, ducking beyond the plants and crags. By the time she reached him he was already retrieving the cat's gun.

"Finnick, please, stay out of this," she begged.

He shoved her gun into her paws and frowned. "I ain't stayin' out o' this. You got me involved in this and I wanna see it through. I wanna know Nick's safe and in good paws, and I can't do that from my sofa while cops run riot and blow everythin'."

Judy shook her head in bewilderment. "You have that little faith in us?"

"No. I have that little faith in them." He nodded at the emptiness behind them, but she knew he meant the ones waiting in cars, hidden out of sight. "You, I trust with my life. I wouldn't be doin' this with you if I didn't."

She watched him as he reached for the door handle, momentarily stunned by his words. Then she remembered one key detail.

"Where's Flash?"

"Waitin' in my van in case we need a speedy escape. Don't worry, he's safe. I had a spare vest."

She shook her head in disbelief. Any other questions she wanted to ask him would have to wait. He pulled the door open and aimed the shot gun. A bullet fired, but it wasn't from him. It struck the wood and splintered. Finnick ducked back and ushered for Judy to take action. He wasn't going to use the shot gun?

She gave herself a mental shake and leant around the corner, firing the tranquilliser gun blindly into the dark. She didn't hear it strike home. Several more bullets fired, two of which blasted through the door, taking chunks of wood with it. Splinters rained down upon her and she flinched. Finnick snatched the gun from her and fired it himself, the darts hitting home with two soft thunks.

The gun action beyond the door stopped and he tossed the gun back at her.

"I thought carrots were meant to help you see in the dark," he grunted. "Did my mother lie to me?"

Judy's nose twitched as she looked from the splintered door to the small fox and back. He retrieved his shot gun and switched it with his bat before kicking what remained of the door open. Immediately he leapt back from a large canine shape, light glinting off a knife in the coyote's paw. Finnick's bat arced upwards and struck the coyote's paw, causing the canine to howl in pain and his knife to clatter onto the bare, wooden floor.

Wolford's voice buzzed in her ear. "Hopps, come in? Officer Hopps? We heard gunfire. Is something happening?"

She pushed the button on her radio and spoke back quickly, "I ran into a spot of trouble. You'll understand when you get here. I'm inside the warehouse."
"You're inside?! The SWAT team aren't ready yet. They can't just rush in and help you! Back off, Hopps!"

"I can't!" She sighed through gritted teeth and backed away from the door, covering her mouth with her paw to dull her voice. "That small fox who helped me? Well he's here, and he's gone inside. I can't just leave him."

She could hear both Wolford and Jackson groan down the microphone.

"Okay, listen here, Hopps," said Jackson. She could picture him taking the radio off a rather stressed Wolford. "I understand you want to protect your friend. It's noble, believe me, it is. But you're going to risk getting yourself hurt, or worse – killed."

"I risk losing him, too, especially if I do nothing," she said. "And there is no way I'm going to let that happen. I mean – what would you two do in this situation?" When they said nothing, she nodded and pursed her lips. "Sorry, Jackson. I'm going after him."

As she moved beyond the splintered door, she heard the tiger's voice in her ear. "Be careful, Hopps."

She tiptoed around the fallen coyote. She hadn't seen what had happened during that fight, but the canine was unconscious. She glanced a dart sticking out of his neck and nodded to herself. Finnick hadn't clubbed him over the head like she'd initially been thinking.

A movement to her right made her freeze until she realised it was Finnick leaning over a cat. She glanced around, straining to see in what little light reached the far ends of the warehouse, then rushed to join the fox.

Four mammals were down. The two that had fired at them, the coyote, and the shaggy pallas cat Finnick was sticking a dart into. His other paw was clutching a wad of feathers.

"I kept some darts from your gun," he said. "You should have plenty left provided you can actually aim."

She frowned and opened her mouth to retort, but words died on her lips as she spotted two red dots hovering around the base of his ears. She looked back over her shoulders at a flight of stairs that split at the top into two corridors, both floors rimmed with wooden rails. Leaning over them was a pack of coyotes and wildcats aiming sniper rifles at the both of them.

"Erm... Finnick?"

He followed her eyes to the stairs and muttered something under his breath which she thought might have been, "Oh, cheese and crackers."

Two more coyotes and three cats scurried down the stairs, keeping their rifles aimed on her and Finnick.

He fastened his paws around her waist and threw her backwards, using his own weight to propel her. She landed behind the fallen wildcat, narrowly avoiding a stream of bullets. Finnick scurried on all fours away from her and stood up, waving his bat at the nearest gun. It fired blindly into the floor above and a serval keeled over the rail and plummeted to the ground below, crushing one of his allies.

Finnick's target dropped his gun and clutched at his paw while the small fox stuck a dart in his leg and moved towards the stairs.

Judy propped herself up and fired her dart gun into a cat who had his gun trained on Finnick. The dart hit home and she rolled as the darted feline and the coyote beside him both targeted her, narrowly avoiding their bullets.

Finnick reached the coyote just before her second dart hit home. He moved on forwards up the stairs, ducking and moving too fast for them to target. Rifles fell from paws and fur flew as the pack of criminals went tumbling down to the ground below. Judy darted another cat who tried to grab Finnick then trained her gun on the ones on the top floor who were desperate to stop the fox. The problem was, she wasn't fast enough. Neither was the sedative. Two of her darts hit, and as her third one reached home the fox let out a yelp and stumbled back down the stairs, his fluffy tail arcing over him as he landed awkwardly against the bannister rail atop the pile of unconscious mammals.

The number of rifles left were few and as she raced towards her friend she took out two more cats before the remaining ones bailed and escaped further into the warehouse.

Finnick struggled to push himself up and rolled off the pile of furry bodies onto the bare floor. He clutched at his left shoulder and she recoiled back when she spotted the blood marring his tan paw. Another bullet had torn through the stomach of his shirt which thankfully had done no more damage than blow him backwards down the stairs. He rolled onto his back and flinched as he tried to push himself up with his good arm.

She quickly buzzed the police car and reached out to check his wounded shoulder. "Wolford, he's down! My friend is down!"

Finnick groaned and wafted her paw away. "I ain't down, I'm fine!"

"What happened, Hopps?" Wolford asked.

"He's alive, but-"

"Cut it out!" Finnick snapped. "Forget about me, go find Nick!"

"But your arm," she said.

"I got another one! I'm fine, now go!"

She stared at him for a moment, warring between whether or not she should just leave him. Finally, she said, rather bluntly, "No."

"That's right, stay where you are, Hopps," said Wolford. "The SWAT team is almost ready. Jackson and I are on our way."

Finnick's muzzle crinkled into a frown. "No?"

"I'm not leaving you," she said. "If they come back they'll finish you off. You can't fight them like this!"

"Right, and I ain't gonna be able to protect you either. So go!"

"I don't need protecting!" she snapped. "But like this, you do."

He shook his head and chuckled. "I always told Nick I'd look out for you just like him and I do with each other. He'd turn me into a rug if he knew I was puttin' you at risk."

"Well, I don't think he'd be happy with me either if he knew I'd left you here like this."

He didn't say anything, just kept his brown eyes locked on hers. Then both their ears twitched as someone moved through the open door.

Jackson and Wolford rushed towards them, the latter whistling with surprise as he looked around at the fallen coyotes and wildcats.

"You two haven't done bad," said Jackson as he paused to examine one. "But we'll take it from here, fox."

Judy helped Finnick to his feet and tried to lead him over to the tiger, but instead he grabbed her paw and tried to catch her eye. She looked down at him and he gave her a half smile.

"Go find Nick." He squeezed her paw and let it go before stooping to retrieve his bat.

"Finnick, can you really fight like that?" she asked.

"My thoughts exactly," said Jackson. "You're just going to be a liability."

Finnick waved at the stairs with his bat. "They're all up there, ain't they? Hopps, you go with the wolf. I'll stay down here with Stripes."

Jackson and Wolford exchanged glances and the tiger sighed and rubbed a paw over his face.

"Why me... Fine!" Jackson threw his arms in the air. "I'll stay with the bat-wielding fox. Buzz me if you need back up."

Wolford gave his partner a sympathetic smile then ushered Judy up the stairs after him.

"How are you for darts?" he asked.

"A bit shy," she said.

He handed her a fresh belt of the colourful tranquillisers then stopped on the landing, aiming his gun at the closed doors.

"It splits off here," he said. "I don't like it. We should probably wait. I don't want us to split up."

"Is there a chance they're keeping the victims downstairs?" she asked.

"It's always a possibility, but when your friend said 'they're all upstairs' it made me wonder what they're guarding."

She swallowed audibly and moved forwards towards one of the doors. Wolford hissed her name then padded after her, keeping his large body low. She stopped at one of the doors and peered through the mucky window. It was impossible to see what was behind it. There was no keyhole to peek through either.

She looked at the wolf then nodded to the door. He shook his head and nodded back to the stairs. She nodded to the stairs, shook her head then reached for the doorknob.

Wolford sighed and aimed his gun at the door, tensing every muscle in his body as it swung inwards on its rusty hinges, the noise echoing off the bare walls and sounding much louder than it actually was.

The only thing beyond that door was a pile of cardboard boxes, stacked in a haphazard fashion, each one with a hand-written sticker on it.

Judy paced inside and read over some of the boxes – 'Angora', 'Alpaca Wool', 'Sheep Wool', 'Squirrel'. She gulped and turned back from the room. Marcello had been telling the truth. They were fur farmers.

Wolford's muzzle was pulled tight as he read over each of the boxes, his paw clutching the gun so hard she feared he might break it, or accidentally set it off.

Her stomach felt like lead. All of those mammals kept here for their fur...

"Judy," he said, "I think Marcello was wrong about one thing."

She looked at him then followed his gaze. One of the boxes tucked in a corner bore a sticker she couldn't read from this angle. She moved towards it, squinting to read it in the dim light.

Her heart almost stopped.

It said 'Fox'.