Work Text:
Bogo rubbed his temple and took a deep, labored breath. His chest was still aching a bit from the whole getting bitten by a venomous snake thing, and he had a massive headache where the fang had been lodged just above his eye. He was in the hospital for all of 48 hours—a bit ironic—and now he had the distinct misfortune of cleaning up the mess that had accumulated in his absence. All at once he was reminded exactly why he hadn’t taken a real vacation in the past seven years.
THUNK THUNK THUNK!
He straightened his back and set his hooves on his desk. Once more from the top.
“Enter.”
The door swung inward slowly to reveal the stocky, grizzled razorback captain filling out its frame. Captain Fern Hoggbottom stepped over the threshold with a brisk nod.
“You called for me, Chief Bogo, sir,” she said, more a statement of fact than a question. She was one who preferred not to mince words, ready to spar either with her voice or with her tusks at a moment’s notice. It was a trait that Bogo once appreciated about her in the past, but he was having a great deal of trouble seeing any good in that quality today.
“I did.” He motioned at the chair across from him. “Take a seat, Fern.”
She approached his desk and eased herself into the chair, back straight and feet planted like she was ready to spring back up from it at any moment. “Glad to see you’ve recovered fairly well from the snake bite.”
“Thank you. Still recovering, if I’m honest. Still plenty to get… caught up to speed on.”
She snorted. “You’re a master of understatement, sir.”
“I suppose I am putting the disaster of the past few days far more mildly than the situation warrants.” He drummed his hooves against the desk a few times. “I’ve been collecting accounts from the multiple officers involved to give me a clearer picture of the many breakdowns in protocol I need to now rectify. It’s your turn.”
Hoggbottom stiffened. “Of course.”
First… a little rope. “Remind me… how long have you been captain?”
“It’ll be eleven years this November, sir.”
“Nearly eleven years of exemplary service to the ZPD. A number of them spent on the S.N.F.R. specialty squad.”
“That’s right. I joined the S.N.F.R. unit four years ago.”
“Ah, yes. Proud day for you, as I recall.” And just a little more. “You are no doubt aware that in my absence, your tenure and rank put you at the top of the chain of command for this precinct.”
“Yes, sir. I followed established protocol as much as possible given the extraordinary circumstances of the incident.” She added quickly, “Which was challenging given that it impacted multiple districts.”
“I was informed of the wide scope involved.” That should be enough. “Let’s go district by district, then. We’ll begin in Tundratown.”
Bogo reached over and clicked his mouse, then spun the computer monitor around so that Hoggbottom could watch what was playing on it. She could see footage from the night of the Zootennial Gala. Specifically, the footage from her body cam as she approached the open door at the end of a long hallway.
“Look familiar?”
“Yes, Chief. This was just as you were, uh… incapacitated and we—”
“And you chose,” Bogo interrupted, his voice teetering on the razor’s edge of fury as he finished for her, “to act based on the word of a couple of civilians over the word of your fellow officers.”
Hoggbottom froze. “…Sir?”
“Did you or did you not immediately begin firing tranq rounds at two undercover officers based on the Lynxleys’ lies rather than deescalating the situation and assessing the facts?”
She blinked. “You have to understand—”
“And then blew their cover further by coordinating with the mayor’s office to put out a city-wide BOLO, putting them in further danger?”
“But Hopps and Wilde…!”
“Hopps and Wilde should have been given the benefit of the doubt by members of their own team!” Bogo bellowed, rising from his chair to loom over his desk and bare down on Hoggbottom. To her credit, she didn’t immediately wither under his furious gaze. “You cut them off from the support they needed and then set every available resource on chasing them down. Even knowing full well it would force them into unnecessary and dangerous risks to remain free to track down the real criminals.”
Without looking he pressed a key on his keyboard and the video on the computer screen was replaced with a different video. This one also looked like body cam footage, but not Hoggbottom’s. She assumed it must be either Bûcheron’s or Chèvre’s.
“Let’s move on to the Meadowlands,” Bogo said, and sat back in his chair again as he turned his attention to the monitor.
Hoggbottom’s heart hammered in her chest as she watched the feed. The video showed the crumbling wooden lodge that they had tracked the pair to as it split apart. Officer Hopps was some few yards ahead, teetering on the edge of a splintered beam and reaching for Pawbert Lynxley’s outstretched paw. A hoof came out in front gripping a tranq gun. It fired a dart that hit her in the arm, and she immediately crumpled. She tumbled over the side…
Bogo paused the video.
“It is only by sheer luck that Hopps didn’t plummet to her death right then and there. Because of orders from you.” Bogo folded his hooves on the desk in front of him with the epitome of restraint, his fingers curling ever so slightly but withheld from forming fists. “Based on this footage, Bûcheron has been suspended for excessive force. I’m still contemplating whether or not to file charges for attempted mammalslaughter, but I don’t know that even this kind of damning evidence will get through to the union rep.”
“I admit it’s… possible that in the heat of the moment the team may have lost sight of restraint,” Hoggbottom said carefully.
“Restraint?” Bogo repeated rhetorically. He turned the computer screen back to him and opened a folder on his desk, which he started to sift through. “Yes, restraint… let’s skip ahead and talk about the restraint of Hopps’ partner. I understand that once Wilde was taken into custody that there were a number of non-police personnel that were, again at your discretion, allowed access to him. Am I mistaken?”
“You have to understand, sir, how closely Mayor Winddancer was working with the department to assist our investigation durin—”
“Bold of you to call this fiasco an investigation,” Bogo said. “This was a hunt. And I wasn’t talking about the Mayor. I was talking specifically about Milton Lynxley.”
From the folder, Bogo produced a page of photographic paper, which he set on the desk. He pushed it toward her pointedly. The page had three pictures from multiple angles of a small, red paw. Or maybe what used to be a paw. It had been torn into; three deep gouges were carved from the back of the paw straight through each finger. The damage was substantial and grotesque, leaving muscle and cartilage fully visible even through the clotting blood.
“This is the current state of Officer Wilde’s right paw, an injury sustained while in your custody and because of your negligence.” Bogo’s voice was just barely above a whisper, which Hoggbottom found even more terrifying than if he were shouting at the top of his lungs. “You allowed that animal to maim one of my officers. One of your colleagues. Debilitating damage to his paw. He needs surgery and at least six weeks of physical therapy.”
She shook her head hard and turned away from the grisly images. “I was unaware—”
“Is there anything you were aware of, Fern?” Bogo asked as he slammed his hoof onto the photo and pulled it back.
Hoggbottom stiffened. “I believe it would be pertinent to you to hear where the team was coming from during this entire ordeal, wouldn’t it?”
Bogo snorted but waved an upturned hoof in her direction, a gesture to go ahead.
“We get pulled into overtime working the Zootennial Gala after a frankly frustrating and outright disastrous afternoon cleaning up a sting gone bad because two entitled rookies couldn’t be bothered to await instruction.” She snorted hard in obvious annoyance at the memory before continuing. “From there, the team witnesses what appeared at the time to be an attempt on your life, sir, as well as the harboring of a species non grata and theft of a piece of the city’s history.”
His previously agitated expression dialed down into one of extreme doubt. “You honestly believed that Hopps tried to kill me, Fern? Really?”
“I didn’t know what to believe! She pulled a shank out of your forehead! There was a snake! I followed protocol and treated them all as hostile from that moment forward out of an abundance of caution.”
“And surely your previous frustrations with her didn’t come into play for you in that moment at all.”
Hoggbottom bristled. “Regardless how I personally felt about Hopps and Wilde, Mayor Winddancer was breathing down everyone’s neck to bring them in, and Milton Lynxley promised the team any and all resources necessary to apprehend what appeared to be a dangerous snake and get his property back to him. Of course we took advantage of the additional assets made available to us at the time to bring in your apparent assailants and recover a historical artifact.”
Bogo drummed his hooves on the desk a few times. “I would argue that even a historical artifact is not nearly as valuable as mammal life.”
“Well, right, of course it isn’t,” Hoggbottom backpedaled slightly. “But, from the standpoint of the team at the time, we were following a directive issued by the mayor.”
“And the wishes of a wealthy, supposedly concerned citizen.”
Hoggbottom gritted her teeth, but didn’t say anything in response to that.
Bogo shrugged. “Information acknowledged. Let’s move on to Sahara Square. I’m particularly interested in hearing your perspective here; body cam footage was not retrievable during this period for reasons we’re still investigating.”
He studied her face carefully for some kind of change that might help him read what was going on behind it, but her expression remained impassive at the statement. He turned his attention back to the folder in front of him and flipped a few pages. “Did you issue an order authorizing the use of lethal dart rounds?”
“No, sir.”
Bogo opened his desk drawer and pulled out a marked evidence bag. It contained a spent black dart round within. He set the bag on the desk in front of him.
“Care to try again?”
Her mouth went dry. “Where did you get that from?”
“A concerned citizen brought this to the precinct yesterday. It was apparently stuck in the door of his car following The Burning Mammal festival. I’ll ask you one last time: did you issue an order authorizing the use of lethal dart rounds?”
“I didn’t!”
“THEN WHO DID?”
Hoggbottom reeled back in the chair from the sheer explosion; it hit her like a bomb shell detonating. Her heart thundered in her chest, but no words made it past her throat.
“Who?” Bogo demanded again, now on his feet and coming around the desk toward her with footsteps that fell heavy as hammer strikes. He had the bag clutched in his fist and he shook it in her face as he stooped down in front of the chair. “Was it Truffler?
She shook her head vehemently. “No, sir, no.”
“I know this dart’s batch number was assigned to the S.N.F.R. unit. Either you fired this round or he did, and I want to know who made the order to escalate to that point. Now.”
It felt like she was hauling the words up from the bottom of a tar pit. “…Milton Lynxley.”
The disappointment cut through the rage on Bogo’s face like a blade. His arm fell back to his side and he turned his back on her, returning behind his desk.
“It was an accidental discharge,” she quickly added as he set himself down heavily in his chair. “We were close to ending the chase when he called and I got caught up in it… but I didn’t mean to fire it. In the rush I was knocked from behind and it just… went off.”
“Loading a weapon indicates intent, you are no doubt aware. This is academy stuff, Fern. And your blatant disregard for standard codes of conduct almost resulted in the worst of outcomes.” He glared along his snout at her. “What the hell was Milton Lynxley doing calling your personal cell phone?”
Her ears flagged. “Feeding updates on Hopps’ location… he was tracking his son’s phone while they were together in Sahara Square.”
“And I’m sure if I pulled phone records that was the only phone call you’ve ever had with him, correct?”
She blinked. “I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
“Everyone seems to forget that I was a very successful detective for decades before I got to sit in this chair.” He stabbed his hoof at her. “What I’m asking is whether you’ve ever had any phone conversations with Milton Lynxley prior. It strikes me as extremely peculiar for a captain of the ZPD to take orders from someone with no rank in the force… unless you were already used to doing so.”
Hoggbottom felt the pit of her stomach turn colder than the glaciers of Tundratown.
Bogo went on. “You were the one who set up that operation in the shipyard. Months of set up, based on anonymous info that you personally obtained. Now it comes to light that the smuggled goods in those containers were directly linked to the Lynxleys: enough nip to down every tiger in the Rainforest District for the rest of the year, and one Gary De’Snake. And to top it off, you didn’t get to lead the operation in the end, not for lack of trying. The ones who did were Hopps and Wilde.
“It would have put you in line for a promotion and a broadening of your leadership roles. Did you actually get credible info dumped in your lap… or was it handed to you on a silver platter for the purpose of improving your position in the force for other reasons?”
Enough was enough. She catapulted to her feet and slammed her hooves on the desk. “How dare you insinuate my loyalties lie anywhere except with this badge, sir. I am not dirty!”
He shot her the most withering look. “Could have fooled me.”
“You put me in lead position for that sting because I can pinpoint a micron of nip in the rain from a hundred feet away,” she growled, her voice picking up tempo and pitch from indignation. “Because I have spent years serving this city and have the scars to show for it. I have put away real monsters over the years, clawed my way to where I am, and now two rookies go and backass luck their way into a conspiracy one time and they get special treatment? Frames on the wall??”
She threw a pointed hoof out at the wall and the few framed articles hanging there. Bogo’s eyes followed her hoof and then made their way back to her fuming face.
“You think that I put that on the wall out of fondness?” He shook his head. “I framed that article as a personal reminder for myself not to let my internal biases get in the way of any other mammal’s skills and ambitions, no matter what they look like. Because it is my job to serve the mammals under me so they can serve the mammals out there, and making the city better takes all sorts, of all sizes, not just those who can make eye contact with me.”
Hoggbottom’s shoulders slumped and her hoof fell back down to her side. She was the sort of mammal who always seemed larger than life, whose presence could fill a room to the brim. Right now, it looked like she was trying to shrink herself down and just disappear.
Bogo sighed and put his glasses on his snout, then picked up a pen. “I am calling in Internal Affairs to do a full assessment of this case in particular and your last five years of arrest files. You are on administrative suspension and are prohibited from leaving the city for any reason until their audit is complete, however long that may take. Turn over your firearm and your cell phone now.”
She blinked, frozen in place. Her eyes searched the room for some kind of escape route back to the beginning of this whole fiasco, to Past Hoggbottom, to tell her all the ways she could take to avoid the spot she was now standing. Of course, there was no such thing. With a sigh of her own, she unclipped her tranq gun and placed it, along with the spare darts and her department-assigned cell phone, on the desk.
Bogo picked up a pamphlet from a short stack on the side of the desk and handed it to her as she set her equipment down. “And Dr. Fuzzby will be expecting you for the afternoon sessions starting tomorrow. Your enthusiastic participation is mandatory. Understood?”
“Understood.” She somehow managed to assume a parade rest as she asked, “Am I dismissed?”
He didn’t look up from the form he was now writing on. “You are. Please send the next officer in on your way out.” She started toward the door, and Bogo paused his writing just as she reached it. “And Sergeant Hoggbottom?”
She stopped with her shaky hoof hovering over the knob. She didn’t turn but just asked, “Sir?”
“If you so much as glance at either Hopps or Wilde the wrong way again, I will take your badge and melt it down into a coffee coaster. Do I make myself clear?”
A sharp breath. “As a mountain stream, Chief.”
She left and closed the door behind her. Bogo took off his glasses and rubbed his temple. He really was getting too old for this, but if this was what the short list for his job looked like, he had a feeling it would be a few years more before he could even begin to entertain retirement. For the sake of his officers, and the city itself.
THUNK THUNK THUNK!
He straightened his back and set his hooves on his desk. Once more unto the breach.
“Enter.”
The door cracked open slowly. A stout, stone faced markhor peeked his head in through the opening.
“You called for me, Chief?” Officer Chèvre asked as he slipped into the office and closed the door.
“I did.” Bogo motioned at the chair across from him. “Take a seat, Jean.”