-Chapter 2-

"You're watching Channel 5, where WCZP is bringing you all of the latest from around the city and around the globe. Now, for a special report from reporter Marsha Hornston."

"Good morning everyone. We have breaking news on a fresh story today. This time it's coming from the city of Alimand," the doe reported. "This just in: a crowd of over three thousand animals has gathered outside of the Alimandish capitol building, peacefully protesting the unfair discrimination against predators. Police have been sent to ensure that the protest does not turn violent. This is all coming not two weeks after the night howler case was uncovered in Zootopia, a major conspiracy that attempted to make predators into second class citizens. We have reporter live at the capitol building. Dean, how are things looking over there?"

"Not good, Marsha," the focused switched over to the other reporter, a polar bear. "It's a pretty tense atmosphere that's been brewing for some time now. For decades the city has been segregated into predator and prey districts, but only now are the animals rising up and taking a stand. These predators that we see here protesting...they're frustrated that they've been kept from living in the nicer districts of town, which have been historically reserved for prey, among a long list of other issues"

"Dean, you say that there's a long list of issues..." the reporter in the studio asked, "exactly how segregated is Alimand on the whole?"

"Well, to give you some idea... Predators and prey aren't allowed to go to the same schools, and predators can't work for businesses run by prey and vice versa. It's a system that really favors prey over predators, as often the city officials neglect the parts of the city where predators live, as only prey can run for office. And that's just the tip of the iceberg."

"So, what exactly are these predators asking for? And are they justified in doing so? What do you think, Dean?" Marsha asked.

"Well, they simply want everything to be desegregated, and to have the same opportunities as prey" Dean said matter-of-factly. "You see, Alimand has very different demographics than Zootopia. In Zootopia, 90% of the population is prey, but here, some estimates put it as low as 45%. So I would say yes, it is rather odd to see a city divided, literally and metaphorically, in half."

The raccoon shut off the TV. He could only tolerate so many news reports before being enraged about the political state of his former country. He and his parents had moved to Zootopia when he was seven years old, and after eleven years of living here, he had grown incredibly fond of the place. While it had its own struggles with prejudice and discrimination, it wasn't even remotely comparable to what was occurring in Alimand. His parents had been lured by the Zootopian model of "anyone can be anything," and had decided to try to make a better life for them and their child.

He got up from the kitchen table where he ate all of his meals, and washed off the dishes he had used to eat his breakfast. Glancing at the clock, he noticed that it was 6:50 AM.

Crap, he realized. I have to open up the store in ten minutes.

The raccoon lived on the second floor of a two-story building on the outskirts of Tundratown. Originally, it had been abandoned, but he had put some hard work into it to make it somewhere liveable. It was a rather small living space, only having one room, but the raccoon didn't mind in the slightest. He had everything he needed. The kitchen area was small, no more than a few cabinets, a sink, and his TV, but it was very functional nonetheless. He slept on top of a small mattress in the corner, and had a separate bathroom with a shower and toilet. On top of the table, was his most prized possession, a scrapbook his mother had made for him that contained photographs of him as a small raccoon.

He would look over the scrapbook every night, reminiscing about how great things were back when they had just arrived in Zootopia. Back then things were simpler, and he wasn't quite as cynical about things as he was now. His parents tended to all of his needs, and all he had to focus on was going to school. His fondest memories all came from this time, memories of his mother reading to him at night, and his father teaching him how to properly cook a fish. Every time he flipped through the book he would go back to these times, providing him a sense of reprieve, if only for a few minutes. Of course, that wasn't to say that he didn't enjoy his current life, but he still sometimes wondered what would have happened if things had stayed the way they were.

The raccoon quickly washed his face, and tidied up his fur to make himself look a bit more respectable. Then, as the clock ticked over to 6:57, he headed over to the ladder in the corner of the room that lead to the first floor of the building, where he did his daily work. Being the sole employee at a cafe was difficult, but the raccoon found it a welcome challenge. He quickly glided down the ladder, and began preparing to open. The cafe was rather quaint, but it had a nice homey feel to it. The raccoon set all of the tables in the cafe and quickly put on his apron before finally flipping the sign to read "open" instead of "closed" just as the clock dinged 7:00 am, and the raccoon knew that meant he had approximately two minutes before his first customer arrived.

As the clock ticked from 7:02 to 7:03, as if on cue, the raccoon's first customer walked in.

"Rico, friend, how are you?" the raccoon greeted him as he had done every day for the past year or so when Rico had first visited the cafe. He came inside and sat down at one of the stools in front of the counter.

"I'm doing well, Etson," the otter replied. "How about you? Same old, same old?"

"Yes, just trying to keep zhings under control here as uzhual," Etson said. "Will you be having your regoolar today, Rico?"

"Sure," Rico responded. "Lovely weather we've got here, ain't it? Absolutely love this time of year."

"Zhe snow is always so gorgeous in this part of town," Etson said while preparing Rico's coffee. His paws whizzed around the kitchen, mixing various liquids together and adding certain herbs into the concoction to give it more taste. "Here you go. One deuvor, specially flavored, all ready."

Rico grabbed the mug, and started to take a sip. "Mhmmm…" Rico said as the beverage began to warm up his insides. "I don't know how you do it, but I swear every single time you get the mix perfect."

"What can I say, I am good at what I do," Etson laughed heartedly.

"I love starting out every day like this," Rico admitted, "there just aren't enough places like this anymore where you can get good, local service."

"It is more rare now, zhat is for sure," Etson said. "When I first came to Zootopia, my mother would always take me to zhis local ice cream place near our house. Went out of business last year."

"Sounds about right," Rico said. "Big corporations are taking over everything nowadays."

This was the best part about Etson's job. He knew every customer inside and out, from when they would likely arrive to what they would order. Over the years he had accumulated a small, but loyal group of customers that all loved the local charm that the cafe had.

"Take care, Rico," Etson said, waving goodbye, "and good luck on zhat presentation today!"

"Thanks Etson!" Rico waved back, and exited the shop. It was 7:12 now, Rico's visit taking exactly ten minutes yet again. There were, of course, the odd customers who would hop in after coincidentally being in the area, but even these animals usually ended up becoming regulars. He would chat with them for a few minutes while they drank their coffee, and then he would send them on their way. Some customers, like Rico, were so reliable on their timing that Etson even knew when they would enter and when they would leave.

Which is exactly how Etson planned on capturing the most wanted criminal in Zootopia.

The sun was shining down on Savannah Square, glistening off of the central fountain that could be seen in the center of the plaza. There were crowds of animals all throughout the square, some of them visiting shops, others just chatting with friends. Among them was Judy Hopps, who was skillfully weaving a bicycle through the crowds of animals. As a reward for solving the night howler case, she had seen her pay increase to the point where she could now afford a nicer apartment that was closer to work, meaning that it was more convenient to bike than to take public transport. Like most mammals, she had learned how to ride a bicycle from her parents when she was young, but it was only now after about a week of practice weaving through alleyways that she felt really confident in her riding abilities. She exited the square and continued her route to work, handling skillfully through the streets. She eventually reached the headquarters, where she chained and locked her bicycle to the bike rack.

"Nice riding, Carrots," Nick said, seeing the rabbit secure her bicycle. "How come you never drive like that when we're patrolling?"

Judy took off her helmet and started heading inside.

"There's a slight difference," Judy replied, "between maneuvering a bike and a police cruiser."

"So what I'm hearing," Nick poked at Judy, "is that you're not good at maneuvering the police cruiser?"

"That's pretty big talk from someone who doesn't even know how to ride a bike."

"To be fair, I don't ride a bike on patrol for a few hours every day."

"To be fair," Judy pointed out, "neither do I."

Nick grinned. "Touché."

He loved the little conversations they had. Judy was the only animal he had met who consistently one-upped his comments, forcing him to think of new ways to poke at her. It was nice, after fending for himself for so long, to finally have someone he could playfully banter with.

Judy placed down her bicycle helmet in one of the storage lockers, and then the two partners walked into the briefing room, just as they had the day before.

"Do you think that we'll have anything actually interesting to do today, Carrots?" Nick asked earnestly.

"That depends," she replied, "on whether you find patrol duty interesting."

"You and I both know the answer to that question."

The door at the front of the room swung open, and Chief Bogo walked in, taking his place at the podium.

"Good morning, everyone. We've got more business to attend to today, so let's not waste any time doling out assignments," the chief said. "Manus and Hoover...are going to be in the rainforest district on patrol duty. Tailer and Ware are patrolling Tundratown..."

Bogo continued through the list as usual, assigning all of the officers to patrol different parts of the city. It appeared as though Nick and Judy were in for another day of catching up on paperwork in the police cruiser, if the trend continued.

"Hopps and Wilde..." Bogo started, having gotten to the bottom of the list. Nick and Judy looked at each other, both of them with their fingers crossed. "We have a scene for you to investigate."

The two of them looked at each other, and gave a celebratory high five. "Are you serious?" Nick asked, "There's actually something for us to do?"

"Don't get too excited, you two," Bogo said, noticing how the two partners' moods had changed, "It's just a vandalism case. Your job is to figure out who did it and why. Clawhauser will give you your case file. And seeing as that's all of the assignments for today, you are all dismissed."

The officers funneled out of the room and headed for the police cruisers just as they had the day before, excluding, of course, Nick and Judy, who headed for Clawhauser's desk.

"I don't think I've ever been more excited for a day of work, Carrots," Nick remarked, "which is odd, considering I'm supposed to be the negative one."

"Enough days of patrol duty will make anyone lose their sanity," Judy said, the two of them now at Clawhauser's desk. Clawhauser had his back to the two officers, leaning over to put some papers into a

"Hey Clawhauser, how's it going, pal?" Nick asked charismatically.

Immediately, Clawhauser turned around to face the voice that called for him. "Nick, Judy, hey there! What's up?"

"I hear that you have a case file for us to take care of today," Judy said.

"That I do, let me just pull it out for you," Clawhauser said, foraging through his desk. "I swear it was here somewhere...maybe I put it...Ah! Here you go. One vandalism case file," the cheetah extended the file to Judy, adding, "Must be nice to have a break from patrolling, huh?"

"You have no idea," Judy replied, accepting the folder from the cheetah. "Thank you, Clawhauser."

"Any time," he said, smiling. "Good luck on the case!"

The two of them waved goodbye to Clawhauser, and headed for the police cruiser, where they would review the case file. After walking through the police lot, Judy unlocked the car and they both clambered in. She opened up the case file, and the two partners began looking over the info together.

"Okay," Judy said, scanning over all of the data. They had no real leads to go off of other than photographs of the scene and whatever was left at the site of the crime. "So it looks like the vandalism was directed at...some shop in Sahara Square."

"I know that place," the fox said, looking over the pictures of the store. He knew practically everyone in Zootopia from his time as a popsicle hustler, which came in handy more than once as a police officer. "It's run by Edvin Klosen. It's a small bakery that sells really good scones."

"Hm. Well, I guess we the best option that we have is to go and check it out then," Judy suggested. "At some point we should also talk to Edvin, to see if there's any other leads we can get."

"Sounds good," Nick agreed.

Judy started up the car, and shifted into reverse, and turned on the radio, ready to back the car out of the police lot. She put her paw on the gas, but to her surprise, the car didn't budge. The rabbit started frantically looking around the dashboard, trying to figure out what was wrong.

"You forgot about the parking brake," Nick reminded her, smiling slyly as he put his aviators on. "What would you do without me, Carrots?"

"I would have figured it out," Judy retorted, "just like any other animal."

"You know, I almost considered letting you try to figure it out yourself," Nick admitted, "just to see how long it would take you."

She punched him in the arm jokingly and drove out onto the road in the direction of Sahara Square.

Etson set up the secret security camera in the same spot he had for the past few days. The camera itself was the same size as a coin, making it very easy to hide. It had resulted in his bank account taking quite the hit (almost a month's worth of wages), but the function the device performed was vital to his plan. The camera had to be small enough that he could place it in a hidden location without anyone noticing it, which eliminated the the traditional and inexpensive security cameras from the equation. If the person he was trying to catch got any signs that he was being monitored, Etson would be in deep trouble.

Before the customer of interest could arrive, he nestled the cam inside one of the potted plants at the back of the cafe, angling it just so that it could oversee the activities of the cafe without being disrupted by the foliage of the plant. He would need to retrieve it afterwards, as the camera could only hold twenty minutes or so of footage before filling up. If all went according to plan, after today he should have gathered enough evidence to reasonably lead the ZPD to apprehend the criminal. After setting the camera up, he quickly went back and assumed his position behind the counter, ready to serve the customer.

The bell on the door rang, signalling someone had walked in through the door. Exactly as Etson had expected, the customer was Omar Moufflon. He had arrived within five minutes of three o'clock in the afternoon every day for over two weeks now. When Etson had first met him, he had no idea that Omar was remotely involved in any kind of shady business. He had introduced himself as Joe Wooldruff, a local plumber who had just moved into the area. That was the day after Bellwether had been arrested, along with everyone else involved with the trafficking of night howlers. For any normal animal, this would have been insignificant information, but in the case of Joe Wooldruff, it was a huge clue as to what his actual identity was.

"Hey, Etson, how are you doing?" the sheep known as Joe asked.

"I'm doing fine. How about you?" Etson asked, "I know zhat you said you had a difficult client, no?"

"Yeah, he was being a real pain," Joe said, completely unsuspecting of Etson's plan, "Hate having to work with people like that."

Etson nodded. "You want your regoolar?"

"Maybe add a little something extra to it this time," Joe requested, "I've still gotta deal with this guy after my break."

"You got it." Etson got to work, and began making the coffee as per requested.

After about a week of interacting with him, Etson had started to become suspicious of whether Joe was who he claimed he was. In talking with him, Etson picked up on a few hints about Joe's actual past, including the fact that he once had done "an important job for someone at city hall." In another one of their conversations, Joe had accidentally revealed that his father's last name was Moufflon, which he quickly tried to explain away rather unsuccessfully.

"Thanks dude," Joe said, taking a sip. "As good as always, and with that extra kick. I gotta hand it to you, you're good," he said.

The day after Joe had slipped up on his last name, a news report came onto the TV about the criminal Omar Moufflon, who was wanted for being one of the primary distributors of the night howler serum. They gave more details about him, including a portrait and the fact that he had a tattoo of a heart with an arrow through it on his left arm. Etson matched the faces almost instantly, and when he talked to the sheep the next day he saw the tattoo that had been mentioned on the news, confirming the shop owner's suspicions.

Reaching his hand into his pocket, Joe took out some dollar bills to pay with. "Here's your cash, keep the change."

Etson looked down at the amount, and noticed that he had tipped close to fifty percent of the cost of the drink. "I can't take zhis, it is too much."

"It's my treat," Joe replied, taking another sip of the drink.

"You are very generous, sir," Etson said, gratefully. "I zhank you."

This was of course, not to say that Joe hadn't tried to conceal his identity. He had dyed his wool, and almost always wore a bandana that covered part of his head. He had gotten comfortable around Etson, however, as so many customers did, resulting in the various slip ups. But once the connection had been made, there was no way that Etson was simply going to let an opportunity of such a large scale slip through his paws. The raccoon immediately began hatching a plan to catch Moufflon so that he could collect the reward money, which was a hefty sum, seeing as Omar was the most wanted criminal on the ZPD's list.

Joe finished his drink, and left. Strangely, Etson almost felt bad for how he was going to betray the animal. He had always tipped well, and seemed like a genuinely good person from the conversations that he had with him.

What am I saying, Etson snapped himself back to reality. He worked with Bellwether. He wanted all predators to become second class citizens, including me. He deserves what's coming to him.

He waited until the coast was clear, and then he went to collect the camera. He had gathered enough evidence over the past few days to now to show a pattern in Moufflon's visits, meaning that he could reasonably present his findings to the ZPD. Now all he had to do was email it and wait for the police department's response. Still, Etson remained uneasy. He had thought through this plan thousands of times in his head, including every way which it could possibly fail, and what he would do in every scenario, but he still couldn't shake the feeling of anxiety. If things went well tomorrow, his life was going to be very different, hopefully for the better.

And if I fail? Etson asked himself, followed by a shudder. He quickly pushed the idea out his mind, reminding himself that everything would be fine. I'm not going to fail, everything will go according to plan.

At least that's what he told himself.

Chapter 2 is out! Had a snow day on Monday, so was able to really get some work done on the story. The main point of this chapter was to develop the characters a little bit more, so it would be easier to really get the plot rolling. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!