The Fire Triangle, A Zootopia Fanfiction -- Part One: Fuel - 75

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

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The Fire Triangle—A Zootopia Fanfiction

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Part One:

Fuel

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Chapter 9 –Fire And Mirrors

(Continued...Pt. 2)

Had Albert Tufts been able to observe the reaction to his phone-call, he would have rung off feeling even more irked than when he'd started. Judy Hopps was muttering unpleasantly about squirrels in general; Nick Wilde was rolling his eyes, and Claire Swinton's face was as unreadable as a dead language. The only thing held in common by their faces was the conspicuous absence of one, singular emotion—fear. Just who did that puffed-up little so-and-so think he was kidding?

"If you MUST make an enemy, make sure it's someone without any friends." Nick repeated his homemade aphorism for Swinton's benefit. (Judy had already heard it at least a dozen times.)

And nobody fit that description better than Lieutenant Albert Tufts, head of ZPD Cybercrimes, an animal about as popular with his fellow officers as a tax-audit. No one was going to get fired on HIS say-so; Chief Bogo would probably laugh the Kaibab squirrel right out of his office if he tried it.

Still, Judy knew, if this operation came a cropper, it would nonetheless end up as a black mark on both her and Nick's records...Tufts or no Tufts.

Well then, the bunny-cop resolved, she would just have to do her darndest to make sure the operation didn't fail...even if her heart wasn't really into it. Arresting Conor Lewis was going to be the hardest thing she'd had to do since joining the ZPD.

Yes, it was the Phantom they wanted, not him, and yes, they were only going to follow the young silver fox to his next drop and then wait there for whoever came next to pick up the package...but that didn't mean the kid was going to get off with a warning, much less avoid being arrested altogether; the Attorney General's office would never stand for that, (neither would that arrogant little nut-cruncher from ZPD Cybercrimes.)

Ohhh, why did it have t be HIM? Judy's mind began to race over the history of her relationship with Conor Lewis; she couldn't help it, she was like that thug from a Clockwork Oryx, being forced to watch a movie with his eyes pegged open. Here was Conor...sitting out front of Finnick's van, playing his guitar. There he was, conning her sister Erin into selling him her bass for a pittance...but only to stop her from trashing it. And then he'd not only sold it back to her at cost, he'd somehow managed to get it fixed... and then he'd offered her his spot at the Carrot Days talent show, and together they'd just crushed it.

Erin...

"Poor little sis, this is going to break her heart." Judy's eyes squeezed shut at the thought. Would Erin end up hating her for this...or would her wrath be directed at the silver-fox kid out there on the volleyball court? Neither option was a good one.

But then again, "Haven't we said it several times already? Conor probably has no idea who he's working for; for sure he doesn't know what's inside of that package he's picking up."

It was not unknown for Judy Hopps to say things aloud without realizing it. This time however she caught herself in midsentence and decided to go ahead anyway. "That'd sure as heck explain why he went off to play volleyball first."

"He knows he's up to something that isn't legitimate." Nick's voice was as bitter as a poisoned well. He growled low and pointed a finger at his monitor screen, "Even at that age, if someone had asked ME to make a pick-up from a dead drop, no questions asked, I'd have known it wasn't on the up and up."

Taken aback, Judy fell into a momentary silence; she had expected something like this from Nick but he should have been more depressed than angry. Well, she supposed, he had his reasons.

He did, but not from anything she could have surmised. Her partner's anger was borne more out of frustration than from any disappointment with his fellow fox—because he knew something that the bunny-cop didn't.

Conor Lewis's pluck had gone far beyond the beau geste he'd made to Judy's sister Erin; without his help, Nick would never have been able to put a stop to Jerry Guilford's attempt to spray-bomb the Carrot Days festival with defoliant. The younger fox had been right there with him when he'd chanced upon the rogue coyote's son, scouting out the big dance from the hillside overlooking the Carrot Days Festival. He'd helped Nick find the clues that had led him to realize what the Guilford brothers were planning, and then he'd helped identify the agent they intended to use in the attack—and that had been just for starters. He'd also gotten the lights doused, successfully delaying the assault, and then he'd helped con the two coyotes into making their approach over the fireworks display, (the one Nick had set up as an ad-hoc anti-aircraft battery.) Yes, it had all been done at the older fox's behest, but the kid had gotten it done—and because of that, because of him, the attendees at the Festival's Big Dance had all gone home rather than to the ER...with their fur still intact.

And (aaggghhh, grrrrr,) Nick couldn't say one word about it to Judy...or to anyone else, not a whisper, not hint, not a peep; the blankety-blank little snot-nose had made him swear not to reveal the part he'd played in stopping the attack, and a pledge from one fox to another was a trust that went beyond sacred. Until and unless Conor released him from that promise, Nick could never reveal even the slightest detail of what the kid had done to help him, period.

That was at least part of the reason why he was so angry at the moment...and WHY the fox had Conor extracted that pledge from him in the first place?

And that wasn't all, not by a long shot; Conor Lewis was street, he was smart, he knew computers, and whoa, did this kid know a thing or two about running a hustle, (how about that guitar-sting!) When you thought about, he was nearly the perfect choice for the Phantom to employ as his mule.

Except...

Except that Conor was also a good kid, Nick had seen that for himself, and this boy wasn't just street-smart either; you didn't get into the Zootopia Academy for the Performing Arts on a C-level grade-point-average.

Everything here was making less and less sense by the minute.

Unless...!

Unless, Nick suddenly realized, unless The Phantom was forcing the younger fox to do his bidding! Okay, that made sense; blackmail was the hacker's sugar and blueberries.

Except...

Except why go to all the trouble of making Conor act as his courier, when there were only about a zillion other kids out there, ready and willing to do the job and questions? We don't need no stinking questions!

Agghhh, grrrr...it was enough to make you want to go out and bite somebody!

"Heads up, looks like the game's over out there." Claire Swinton was wagging a finger at her screen.

Roused from their respective musings, Nick and Judy quickly processed the scene they'd been observing, (if not fully registering,) for the past few minutes. They saw immediately that Conor and the others had moved off the volleyball court and were exchanging another round of high-fives and fist bumps.

"Who won?" Nick asked. Judy didn't fault him; she hadn't been keeping score either.

"Final score was 11 to 5," Swinton grinned wryly. "Sorry to say it, but your fox kid's team got their tails shellacked."

"He's not our kid!" Nick almost snapped at her, and Judy quickly moved to change the subject.

"Doesn't seem too bothered by it," she noted.

"He shouldn't be, he gave it his best." the pig cop responded, with a dismissive shrug. She either hadn't caught the pique in Nick's rejoinder or else she was pretending that she hadn't.

For moment, it looked as if a rematch was in the offing, but then another group of young mammals arrived to take their turn on the courts and that was that.

"All units, heads up, the suspect is on the move again," Judy said into her headset as she watched Conor waving good-bye to his friends.

He didn't head from there straight back to the locker room, (much to her frustration and even more to that of Nick.) Instead he stopped off at one of the outdoor shower-stations for a quick rinse. As the water washed down over the young silver fox, his tank-top shirt became plastered to his fur, turning translucent and almost transparent.

"What is that, is that a scar on his back?" Judy was staring at the young fox with her nose twitching. Nick Wilde stared as well, peering close. Yes, there it was, just barely visible underneath the fabric, a long, crescent-shaped line, stretching from just below the right shoulder blade to the third rib on the left.

Nick blinked and then sat back again.

"That doesn't look like a scar to me, Carrots; I think it's just a crease in the shirt."

Any further debate was curtailed when the young fox turned the other way.

From there he went to a vendor's cart, and purchased a shaved-ice for himself, cherry, lime, and blackberry, by the look of it. (Dang, but that ibex Larry Bock knew how to run a drone-cam.)

Now at last Conor turned and headed for the locker-room, taking time to savor his treat, (and driving Nick Wilde nearly to distraction.)

What they saw when he reached locker LB-6 was more or less what anyone would have predicted; the young fox pulled out his phone and entered the access-code again, except...something was different, something that Judy couldn't quite grasp. Anyway, she didn't have time to figure it out; he slipped quickly through the door and closed it behind him, invisible to the cameras once more.

It took him longer to reappear than it had the first time, and when Conor exited the locker again, he was once more dressed in his street clothes, same old, same old, same as before.

Except...!

Except for the object tucked underneath his arm, which immediately drew the bulk of the three ZPD officers' attention—a hefty, black case, which the young silver fox unceremoniously slipped into his backpack as soon as he exited the locker.

Or that is...he tried to; it refused to go in all the way. Growling unpleasantly to himself, (that was how it looked,) Conor closed the locker door and secured it with the digital lock, setting his bike aside and furtively rearranging the contents of his pack, trying to make more space for the new addition.

"Too bad we're only supposed to track him instead of bust him," Claire Swinton remarked, off-hoofedly, "This would have been the perfect time for a take-down."

No one disagreed with her, but...

Yes, they could easily bust the kid right now...only what good would that do? They needed the Phantom, not his go-between, (now more than ever; that lowlife was going to pay for corrupting a good kid like Conor.)

On the third try, the young silver fox finally got the case to fit inside the pack. Zipping it closed, he hefted it over his shoulder and began wheeling his bike in the direction of the stairs.

"Command this is Wolford; he's coming out. Over..." He sounded almost embarrassed, and why not? As IF the animals in the ComSurv van didn't already know that...

Judy didn't blame him; procedure could be a pain sometimes. She said, "That's a Roger, Wolford. All units, all units...the suspect has the package. I say again, our suspect has the package. Keep on him and keep downwind; this is the most critical part of the operation; Command out."

For the first few blocks it was piece of cake; Conor was walking directly into the breeze, making it child's play for the trio of ZPD wolves to follow him from a safe distance; even Kii Catano was able to keep track of the kid by way of his scent.

Judy felt her nose begin to twitch.

"Why doesn't he get on his bike?" she wondered aloud.

"Can't," Nick's ears turned forward for maybe half a second, "On Meerkat Market days, you're required to walk your bike on the Beach Promenade; otherwise there's up to a $100 smacker fine."

"Oh," Judy felt herself wanting to curl up into a ball; dangit, she should have remembered that for herself.

"Head's up, he's coming up on Qattara Avenue."

Everyone tensed; they all knew what that meant, if the kid turned here...

He did, mounting his bike in a swift, fluid motion and pedaling away from the Beach Promenade.

At once, tailing him became infinitely more complicated; Wolford, Grizzoli, and Howell would now have to follow the kid more closely and make certain to keep on his downwind (right) side. Officer Catano could only track him visually, and Larry Bock would have to operate his drone in a cross wind. And now that he was able to ride his bike, Conor would be able to move a lot more quickly than before.

None of that mattered however—because the young fox's destination was as obvious as if he'd been carrying it plastered on a picket sign.

"Catano, this is Hopps; looks like our suspect is headed for the Beach Promenade Metro Station. Can you get there ahead of him without being spotted? Over..."

"Command, no sweat, I'm on it, over..."

"Roger that, let us know when you're in position, Hopps out."

"Command...Command, this is Delgato; I'm also in a position to get to the train station ahead of the suspect, over."

"Roger that, do it," Nick answered immediately. Even if Conor had somehow managed to get wind of Kii Catano and the three wolves, the ZPD lion's scent would be completely unknown to him.

He keyed his headset again "Grizzoli, you and the others stay with the suspect; even if he gets to the station ahead of you, it won't do him any good if his train hasn't arrived yet. Over..."

"That's a 10-4 Command, we'll stick with him, over..."

"Roger that; Wilde out."

"Command, what are my instructions? Over..." It was Larry Bock.

"Stay with the suspect until he enters the station," Judy instructed him, "and then hold position until he boards, after that you can bring it on home, over..."

"Roger that!" Bock was as gleeful as a winning game-show contestant. If Conor was taking the ZTA Metro to his next stop, there'd be no such thing as tracking him by drone-cam; the trains ran mostly underground. Once they were certain that this was the kid's plan, the ZPD ibex's work would be done and he'd be able to pack it up and head on back to Tundratown , (or at least back to Precinct-1.)

Nick and Judy exchanged amused glances before she responded, "10-4 Bock, Command out."

"Well anyway, our kid just made his first mistake." Claire Swinton was entering instruction on her laptop, "or his boss did, take your pick." She went on to explain that since the ZPD monitored the Metro Stations 24/7 anyway, "these cameras I can access without The Phantom noticing."

As if in response to her comment, a pair of overhead views of the Beach Promenade station platform appeared on Judy's monitor screen, each one from a different angle.

The platform itself was shaped something like an elongated pancake griddle, with the stairs and escalators forming the handle, and a set of tracks on either side, eastbound and westbound. The walls were decorated with mosaics of various desert scenes, and a row of widely spaced, art-deco metallic palm trees neatly bisected the platform into two different halves. Unsurprisingly, the place was packed; the famous Sahara Square noonday heat was on the rise, and the Meerkat Market shoppers were on their way home for the rest of the day, (or at least until the evening cool came on.)

"Do you suppose that maybe Conor planned it this way?" Judy mused to Nick, propping her chin on a fist. "I mean...waiting for a while to snag the money, playing volleyball first. If he didn't want to be spotted boarding a metro train, he couldn't have picked better time than right now. " Trying to pick out one, single, silver fox kid out of THIS crowd with a surveillance cam would be like trying to play 'Where's Walrus?' through the wrong end of a telescope.

"No idea, Carrots," her partner admitted with a shrug.

Judy's ears shot up so fast they nearly banged the roof of the ComSurv van.

"All right, who are you and what'd you do with Nick?"

His ears went up as well.

"Wha...? What the heck are you talking about, Carr...?"

"Don't give me that, Mr. Imposter," Judy stared at him tight-lipped, "The real Nick Wilde knows everybody and everything in Zootopia...especially when it comes to..."

"Oh har-hardy-har; don't quit your day job, Fluff. No, I take that back, quit your day job right now, so I won't have to put up with any more..."

"If you two don't mind, we're trying to track a suspect here." Claire Swinton's voice cut through the air like an axe through a cantaloupe...but Judy could see her suppressing a smile.

Sometimes, you just had to let your fur down a little, even in the most unlikely situations—and you could do it and still keep focused, as Judy proceeded to demonstrate by keying her headset again.

"All units, update on the suspect's location. Over..."

It was Howell who answered first.

"Command, he's about ten yards from the station entrance. Looks like that's definitely where he's headed. Over..."

"10- 4... Catano, Delgato, what's your 20? Over..."

The cheetah cop's response was slightly scratchy, indicating that she was transmitting from somewhere below ground.

"Command, we are inside the station at the present time, I'm standing beside the third palm-tree on the left, looking out on the east-bound platform; I can see Officer Delgato over by the map-board on the west-bound side. Over..."

"10-4, let us know as soon as you see the suspect, Command out."

"Have you got them Swinton?" It was Nick.

"Yep, there they are," the pig-cop answered sounding almost surprised that she'd been able to spot the two officers so quickly in the midst of such a throng, "I....hold on, we've got a train pulling in on the westbound side." She grinned slightly, "Hmmm, points for us, maybe."

Judy understood immediately what she meant; so did Nick. If Conor was planning to head west from here, he was much too far away from the station entrance to make it to the platform before the train pulled out again...and the next one going westbound wouldn't be along for at least another ten minutes; Wolford, Howell, and Grizzoli would have more than enough time to catch up with the fox kid before he departed.

Less than half a minute later an eastbound train arrived...and again departed before Conor was able to reach the station entrance.

That made up Judy's mind for her, "All units, here's how we'll do it. Howell, I want you and Catano on the same car as the suspect; Wolford, you're on the next one either back or forward; (she figured a grey wolf wouldn't stand out as much as a white one.) "All units please acknowledge, over..."

They all did, and then Delgato came back in a wheedling voice, "Hey, what about me? Over..."

"Sorry, big guy," Nick told him, "Maybe next time, but we're not going to need a lion to take down a fox-kid, no matter how hard he fights back—and he probably won't, over..." (No, not Conor, he would never go that route...would he?)

"Yeah, yeah," the big cat answered glumly. Nick could hardly blame him; nobody likes to be a fifth wheel, (a place where the red fox had found himself many times during his rookie year on the force.)

He decided to cut Delgato a break.

"Stand by though; we may need you later, when we find that second drop." It was a sop of course; wherever the second exchange point was, it had to be nowhere near the first one; the big cat would never be able to get there in time to help. Just the same, he bought it.

"Roger that Command, standing by. Delgato out."

"Command, Command, this is Catano. I see our suspect coming down the escalator, over...."

"10-4 Catano, let's have all responses in text from here on out. Howell? Wolford? That goes for you too."

Their responses appeared on the screen in front of her.

"10-4"

"Roger"

"10-4"

"And there he is," Claire Swinton spoke up out of nowhere. Judy adjusted her gaze upwards slightly, just in time to see the kid stepping off the escalator.

"And there he goes," she observed wryly as the young silver fox melted into the crowd; even with those two trains departing a few moments ago, there were still plenty of animals milling about the platform. Almost immediately a text came in from Catano saying she had eyes on him. About a minute later one came in from Howell saying he and Wolford had just entered the station and had spotted the suspect as well.

"Spect is hding 4 W-bnd pltfrm."

"That's a Roger," Judy responded verbally, (even if they couldn't respond in kind, the trio of officers could still listen without being overheard.)

She settled back in her chair; nothing to do now but wait; it lasted for exactly 6 minutes and 33 seconds, when another westbound train pulled into the station.

Most of the animals on the platform were waiting to go the other way; perhaps a dozen others besides Conor got on the train with him...including a ZPD cheetah and a pair of wolves, all of them in plainclothes.

"Betcha nickel he's making for Savanna Central," Nick Wilde said. He was referring to the station, not the district; Conor would be able switch to any one of three other train lines from there.

"Unless his final stop is also on the red line," Judy reminded him, and the fox quickly shook his head.

"Noooo, if I were the Phantom, I'd want the kid to change trains at least twice before makes the drop." It was an unarguable point and Judy didn't try. As things turned out she would have been 5 cents richer has she chosen to take her partner's offer. Only a few minutes after the train left the Delta Road Station they received a slightly confused text from Kii Catano.

"Suspect up, standing at door; looks like getting off next stop."

Judy was about to ask which stop that was when Claire Swinton gave her the answer.

"That's Baobab Station."

"Baobob," Nick rolled the word around on his tongue like a blueberry, as if he were assessing the flavor, "Bao...bob."

Judy looked at him, "What is it, Nick?"

He pointed at the map on his display screen.

"Well...either that's his final stop, which it can't be, or else he's planning to switch over to a Blue Line train from there."

"All right...so?" Judy prompted with her nose twitching, "Get to the point Nick."

"So," he said, indicating the map again, "If that's his plan, he could do it just as easily two stops later—and that's Savanna Central, where it's a heckuva lot easier to lose yourself in the crowd than at Baobob." He sat back in chair, tapping his paw-pads together, "I don't know Carrots, I just don't know. Something's not right here."

Things became a lot less right when Conor reached Baobab Station; he switched to the Blue Line Train all right, but...

"What do you mean he's on the eastbound train?" Judy was clutching the side of her headset as though it was malfunctioning.

"Dunno, don't ask ME." You could almost hear the frustrated growl in Kii Catano's text.

Judy would digest this news in a minute; right now she had other concerns. "Still with him, Catano? Howell, Wolford, you still with him?"

All three officers answered in the affirmative, and Judy sat back in her chair and let out a breath. If doubling back like that had been an attempt to throw off pursuit on the young fox's part, it hadn't worked.

The only question was...had he done it because he'd known he was being followed...or had it simply been part of a pre-arranged strategy?

Nick Wilde knew exactly where he stood on the subject.

"Dangit, he's onto us."

Judy Hopps was a lot less certain.

"We don't know that for sure Nick. Don't forget, it's The Phantom who's behind all this. If you were him, wouldn't you have your courier double back like that, just to play it safe?"

Judy thought her point was incontestable, but the red fox simply pretended not to have heard her.

"I'm telling you Carrots, he KNOWS," he said, waving a paw at his monitor screen, "Getting onto the 'wrong' train, that's the exact same trick Craig Guilford pulled."

"By mistake," Judy reminded him.

"Yeah, well it worked, didn't it?" the fox retorted, "The Burrow County Sheriff's Deputies missed him completely...and Conor knows they did."

"Well, yes... but it didn't work for HIM did it?" Claire Swinton interjected, still watching her own monitor, "He didn't manage to lose even one of our guys. Anyway, you two had better decide on your next move pronto; that train'll be back in Sahara Square in less than ten minutes."

That put an end to THAT argument in a hurry. Nick and Judy both swung into action.

Calling up a map of the ZTA Metro on her screen, the bunny cop studied it quickly and then spoke into her headset.

"Howell, which train are you on?" There were three possible destinations, Glacier Falls, Peak Street, and (highly unlikely,) Dead End.

'Pk St.' was the red wolf's immediate response, and it brought Nick Wilde's ears to full attention. "Peak Street...not Glacier Falls?" he said, (wisely, not over the air.)

Judy fully understood, she was not a little surprised herself; Glacier Falls was the largest Metro station in Tundratown and the second largest one in Zootopia, only Savanna Central was bigger; if he'd been going there, Conor would have had his choice of not only three other train lines, he could also have grabbed a skytram directly to downtown.

But Peak Street? In the heart of Zootopia's downtown financial district, it was one of the most heavily patrolled of all the city's metro stations. Only two other lines connected there, the violet line, the shortest one of all, and the red line again. It made absolutely no sense—as Claire Swinton was quick to point out.

"If that's where he wanted to go, he could have taken a red-line train the other way and gone there directly."

"Maybe he just got on the first Blue Line train that came along," Judy offered, half-heartedly, "and he's planning to change again later."

"...which he'd only do if he thought he was being followed," Nick was willing to let the subject lie, but he wasn't willing to let it go.

"Okay," Judy pointed at the map again; she hadn't fully accepted the fox's notion but she couldn't discount it either, "If that's the case, he'll have to change trains again at least one more time, where's the next....? Okay here, Agave Station." She tapped the monitor screen.

Claire Swinton peered at her own display screen, and then reeled back slightly with a frown on her face.

"Wha...? The only line he can change to there is the Oasis Loop."

"...which would take him directly to the Oasis Hotel Station," Nick Wilde had grasped it immediately, "and from there he can switch back to the Red Line or even the Bunnyburrow line."

"And that station's always jam-packed during the tourist season." The pig cop had finally caught on, "Perfect place to lose a tail."

"Darn right it is," Judy declared, and then she was up and out of her seat and bounding past the startled fox and pig.

"Buckle up guys, we're rolling," she said, strapping herself into the driver's seat and reaching for the ignition.