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"Leave... me... alone," the fox gasped, holding one hand tightly over his side as he tried to staunch the slow drip, drip, drip of crimson.

The larger of the three elk smiled. It felt good making a predator fear him, a lowly herd, prey mammal. "Sorry, but this is the way it has to be, old man. You shouldn't have been there to see us take out that courier. I know it was just bad timing and all, but we can't have witnesses. It has to suck to be you."

The elk caught up with the struggling fox and grabbed his shoulder. Desperate, the todd suddenly whirled on his stalker and gave into ancient instinct. His jaw clamped down on the larger mammal's wrist. Serrated teeth ripped through flesh and sinew imbedding themselves in thick bone.

The elk screamed, his voice raising several octaves until it resembled that of a female. He slammed his smaller victim against the wall twice, forcing him to let go before being hurled several feet down the alley. The fox spun around, lying on his stomach in the cold snow as he dimly watched the three elks approach. The one standing behind the leader pulled something out of his coat and pointed it at the vulpine even as the smaller elk stopped to help his friend wrap a torn strip of cloth around his bleeding wrist.

"Stupid move, pred! We were going to kill you all at once," he said, waving a cruel looking machete back and forth in front of him. "Now... you get to die a piece at a time." He advanced on the fox, abruptly stopping when something large dropped between the elk and todd. The snow settled and he found himself confronting an equine with white fur and wearing all black. He stood half a head taller than the tallest of the three elk.

The figure looked at the mammals facing him. "Not very smart bringing a knife to a gun-fight," the stranger nickered. He pulled back one side of his black cape revealing a pistol and holster.

"This ain't no knife," the gray-furred elk said, sweeping the machete in several rapid and expert arcs in front of him. He advanced threateningly toward the equine. There was a blur of motion as the pistol almost seemed to leap into the stranger's hand. One single shot rang out. A metallic clang followed as the machete went flying out of its owner's grip. The pistol spun on its owner's finger and was back in the holster before the machete even hit the ground.

"It ain't no gun, either," the stranger grinned.

Yelling to hide his fear the elk reached into his jacket and charged the taller equine. Without even a pause the black-clad figure unclipped a guitar which had been hanging from his back and whipped it around in front of him. It connected with the elk's head, breaking off one of his antlers and dropping him to the ground. The sound of an angry and violent guitar chord echoed off the alley walls.

The larger of the two remaining elks stared unbelieving at the masked figure even as he sat on the cold ground of the alley, his hand clamped across his torn wrist. His friend reacted much quicker, running back the way he came like the devil were chasing him. The tall equine reached into a pouch on his belt, pulled forth what looked like a leather thong and dropped a small, green dart into it. He whirled this over his head for a moment before letting the dart fly. It impacted the fleeing criminal in his leg. Five seconds later the small elk was face down in the snow, snoring like a baby.

Turning, the masked vigilante faced the group's leader. "You've got a choice. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. We do this easy.... I call the ZPD. Hard.... I call the gang leader that courier worked for and tell him where to find you three."

"What about the money? We could cut a deal..."

The masked equine simply shook his head. "That money gets dropped off at a homeless shelter. They'll get to decide where it goes from there."

"You do that and the guys in that gambling ring won't just be looking for my crew. They've got eyes everywhere. You don't stand a chance of hiding from them."

"Who's looking to hide?" the stranger grinned.

The elk suddenly lunged upward, a spring loaded eight inch blade shot from the jacket sleeve of his uninjured arm. He'd hoped to get the drop on the taller equine, but unfortunately such wasn't the case. The masked figure took a step back and caught the blade along the side of the guitar with a sweeping arc. He reposted and the instrument slammed his attacker across the face.

"¡Olé!" Once more a discordant musical note reverberated in the night. The elk went down, hard, and stayed down. Stepping back, the equine turned his attention to the arctic fox.

The smaller mammal was breathing hard, trying to get back up on his feet.

"Relax," the masked stranger said. "You're safe." He rolled the white-furred predator onto his back, reached into a larger belt pouch and pulled out a pressure bandage. He quickly pressed it against the todd's side and wrapped both ends around the victim's torso. The bleeding quickly stopped.

"Who... Who or what are you?" the fox panted, shivering against the cold.

The equine went over to the gang leader and stripped off his leather jacket, quickly wrapping it around the vulpine. "Let's just say I'm a passing Good Samaritan who doesn't like bullies." He reached into a small pocket on the inside of his cape and pulled out a pair of glasses which he handed to the fox. "You dropped these further back up the alley."

The would-be victim quickly slid the glasses into place, bringing the world back into sharp focus. "Thanks," he muttered. He looked up at his rescuer. "You're that El Kabong character the media's been talking about, aren't you?"

"Is that's what they say?"

"You aren't really going to call that courier's boss like you threatened?"

"No... What's the fun in that? The important part is he won't know if I did or didn't. Should be worth a few sleepless nights on his part, don't you think?"

He helped the todd to his feet and walked him down to where the alley intersected the street. Enroute the stranger picked up a backpack the smaller elk had dropped in his haste to escape.

"Got your phone on you?" The arctic fox nodded. "Good. Call the ZPD. I'll hang around out of sight until they get here. Just point them down the alley and tell them everything you saw." The equine reached into the backpack and pulled out a small bundle of money which he stuffed into the fox's jacket pocket. "This should help cover your medical bills, and then some. Just don't tell anyone about it."

"Thanks again, stranger. Hope the police don't want me to give them a description of you. I really can't see much without my glasses," he said with a small grin.

Within ten minutes three ZPD vehicles and two ambulances were on scene and Fangmeyer had secured the three suspects. It hadn't been overly hard. All three elk were laid out in the alley as if peacefully taking a nap in the snow. Above them, scratched into the wall were the distinctive letters E K.

**********

Examining the crime scene several hours later, both Nick and Judy took note of the unusual lettering. "Doesn't look like the chief's idea of embarrassing our vigilante into retirement worked," the rabbit observed.

"I suspected it wouldn't," Nick replied. "Anyone willing to dress up like a comic book character and go after crooks probably has a pretty thick skin." He looked around. "Where did you say the coroner found the courier's body?"

Judy pointed to a large dumpster painted dark green. It looked reasonably new and in fairly good shape. Bright yellow Police tape blocked access to it. Nick couldn't help but chuckle. "If this thing were down in Happytown it would be a rusted out piece of crap with at least a dozen holes in it for rats to scrabble through."

They both walked over to it and peeked over the side. Within they found a small raccoon wearing a hazmat suit, goggles and a mask. He was busy scrapping blood and tissue samples off the interior wall of the dumpster. Behind him were several clear plastic bags filled with various pieces of garbage, all of which were blood stained.

Nick rapped his knuckles firmly against the side of the dumpster. The raccoon paused in his work, looked up and smiled, pulling down his mask slightly. "Hi Slick! Long time no see. What brings you down to my neck of the woods?"

"Got a report of a dumpster diver scouting the back alleys of Tundra Town."

"Guilty as charged... But don't blame me. My boss threatened me with double time and a half if I could finish getting samples to match for the autopsy before sun-up. I just couldn't resist a challenge."

"Challenge?" asked Judy.

"Vince Ringtail here means the challenge of making more money than any of the other assistant M.E.s in his unit," Nick explained.

"What can I say? As much as I love the job, I love the extra money even more."

"So... what can you tell us about the victim," the fox asked.

"Not much, aside from the obvious. Gold and white furred male serval with brown spots, about your height and weight. Reasonably well dressed. Stabbed once straight through the heart then hacked up with a machete and dumped here."

"Sounds more than a little demented, especially for a crew of elk. They're not really known for being violent."

"Tell me about it," Ringtail replied. "Only thing I can figure is they were hopped up on something. Drugs can alter the behavior of almost any mammal.

"Do you have any I.D. on the victim?" Judy asked.

The raccoon shook his head. "The coroner cleared his personal effects on scene and turned them over to the homicide detectives. If you want anything more on him you'll have to run it by Detective Sergeant Clawson at Precinct 3." The assistant M.E. looked over at Nick. "Say... When did you and your partner start working murder cases?"

"About five minutes ago. Bogo has us working plain clothes trying to track down the vigilante who took out our three elk friends."

"Why's that?" the raccoon asked.

"He wants to convince him to retire before he gets himself or some innocent bystander hurt."

Ringtail shrugged. "If you ask me, the only ones you'll be saving are the criminals he's taken out. So far, it's been a pretty one-sided fight."

"Maybe," Judy replied. She handed the assistant M.E. a business card. "In the meantime we'd appreciate it if you kept us in the loop on what you find out."

"I'll ask my boss, but no guarantees."

"If your boss is unsure, just have him give Bogo a call," the rabbit replied with a smile. "The chief will set him straight."

"That I don't doubt."

**********

It was past nine in the evening when Chief Bogo finally closed out his computer. He strode over to the closet in his office and quickly unbuttoned his uniform, replacing it with a light blue turtleneck, gray slacks and a tan sport jacket, under which he wore a shoulder holster containing his tranquilizer gun. He tucked his wallet badge into his back pocket and clipped a pair of paw cuffs to the belt on his trousers.

Walking through the outer office he noticed that Angela was long gone for the day. Sometimes, he envied her the nine to five routine she had. He stopped at her desk long enough to quickly check through a set of files that were in his "to do" box. He found nothing of an emergency nature, so he carefully replaced them. They'd hold well enough until tomorrow.

Leaving the office, Bogo locked the door and turned around almost crashing into Deputy Sergeant Butler as she rounded the corner. In the process of avoiding a collision, the hinny dropped a clipboard and several folders. Without a word the chief bent over and scooped them up, then handed them back to her.

"Thank-you, Sir," she replied with a tired smile.

"I would have thought you'd already gone home for the evening," the chief said.

She shrugged. "I'm actually on my way out the door now. I had a few last minute reports I needed to prep for the sheriff's morning brief." The deputy glanced at her watch. "If I hurry, I can just make the last subway train out to the Glades."

"I don't live too far from there," Bogo said. "If you'd like I can give you a ride. It would be easier than trying to catch the subway this late." The chief paused for a moment wondering nervously to himself where that offer had come from.

"That's very kind of you, Chief, but I wouldn't want to impose..."

The Cape buffalo rubbed at the back of his neck. "Oh, it wouldn't be any imposition at all. As I said, my house is right near the edge of the Glades."

The deputy pursed her lips for a moment, thinking, then smiled. "Well, if you're sure it isn't inconvenient, then yes, I would definitely appreciate a ride home."

Bogo caught himself just as a smile began creeping across his muzzle. He coughed into his fist and nodded. "All right then, this way. My car's parked out front." He led the way only half a pace ahead of the hinny, adjusting his stride so she had no difficulty keeping up with him even with her cane.

Trunkabee, who was on desk duty that night, watched as his boss and the deputy sheriff walked out the front door together with Bogo holding the door open for Butler as they exited. He was just quick enough with his phone to get a single picture of the two mammals leaving. The elephant decided to wait until morning to share it with Clawhauser.

Late night traffic was always light and it only took Bogo about twenty minutes to reach the edge of the Glades. Following the deputy's instructions he found himself pulling up in front of a quiet little tavern right in the heart of the village's old town district.

"You live here?" the chief asked.

"Actually, I live in one of the apartments above the tavern. If you pull in there I can take the side entrance up to my flat."

Nodding, Bogo pulled into a parking space next to the building that had a small sign posted above it reading "Tenants only." He glanced at the sign before turning off the car's ignition. "Must be interesting, to say the least, living above a tavern. Doesn't it get noisy from time to time?"

The hinny shook her head. "Not really. The clientele are mostly working professionals rather than gang-members or bikers. They come here for a hot meal before going home. The drinks are more along the lines of craft beers or wine than hard liquor. Stuff that goes well with good food."

"Sounds like you dine here often."

The deputy grinned. "I'm not much of a cook myself, so yes, I'll indulge a couple times a week, depending on the specialty they serve that night. My favorite is the tofu stroganoff. It goes well with a blood-orange lager."

Without warning the chief's stomach growled mercilessly, reminding the buffalo just how long it had been since breakfast. His face turned a rather colorful shade of red as the hinny nickered in response.

"Sounds like you need a little something to eat before heading home yourself. Come on in with me and I'll introduce you to Hank."

"Is he the owner?"

"Owner, operator, waiter, cook, bottle-washer, cashier, janitor... whatever needs doing. A real-regular fellow, as we use to say back home."

Bogo thought about it for a few seconds. He really was hungry, though he'd be the last to admit it aloud to anyone. Looking over at the Deputy who was smiling at him he mentally shrugged and opened the door of his car. The two of them walked around to the front of the tavern and, once again, the chief opened the door for her.

The Cape buffalo scanned the room automatically, taking in the large number of pictures surrounding them. Most appeared to be photos of regular customers, frequently alongside a favorite waiter or waitress. Some were pictures of celebrities who had wandered into the place and been instantly immortalized. Much to his surprise, Bogo recognized several pictures of Gazelle in one corner. Some from her younger, pre-pop star days. Movie posters shared space along the wall, all of which had something to do with either detective or pop cop films such as Dirty Hairy, Fowl Playor the chief's least favorite, Happytown.

Glancing above the cashier's station Bogo spotted a ZPD retirement plaque complete with shield, two medals of valor and the picture of an older police mammal dressed in a uniform style that had gone out of use twenty years ago. The face in the picture suddenly called up a whole series of memories from what the chief would often refer to as "back in the day." The name on the plaque confirmed the conclusion he had been reaching throughout his examination of the room: "Henry Rhonehorse Trotter."

Bogo jumped slightly when Butler spotted someone across the room and called out to him. "Hey Hank! I've got a new customer for you. Get on over here and say hi!"

An elderly equine who had been waiting tables in the back abruptly stood up and strode forward. He was well muscled and energetic though much of his muzzle had gone gray along with most of his mane and tail. He limped ever so slightly but his eyes sparkled with life. Halfway across the room he pulled a pair of spectacles from a vest pocket and plopped them on his muzzle. A wide grin broke out across his face when he saw the Cape buffalo.

"Well... as I live and breathe, if it isn't old stubby himself," Hank laughed. "Now what in the twelve Burroughs brings Chief Bogo himself into my establishment after twenty-two years? Don't tell me they're calling my badge back into service," he chuckled. The mammal reached out a hand and grabbed the chief's firmly, shaking it with all the vigor of having found a long lost friend. Hank looked back over his shoulder. "Tina! Break out the camera. We've got a new picture for the wall."

"Stubby?" asked Butler.

Bogo's face slowly broke out into a grin as wide as Hanks. "Good seeing you again, Sourdough! I thought that when you retired you moved out of Zootopia?"

"Sourdough?"

"I did! When I bought this place it was eighteen miles outside the city limits. The city just kept growing until now we're a suburb on the verge of becoming another city burrough."

"Okay... Let's back up just one second," Deputy Butler said. "You two know each other?"

Bogo nodded. "Officer Trotter here was my field training officer my first year after graduating from the academy."

"Where did you get this nickname, Stubby?"

Hank laughed. "His first training bout at the academy he broke off most of his left horn."

"I'll remind you I won that fight," the chief replied.

"Yes... he did," Hank explained. "But afterwards he had to go to a horn specialist to trim down and shape both sides so they'd grow back evenly. If he hadn't, he would have spent the rest of his academy time veering off to the right.

"I was only unbalanced for one day," grumbled the chief.

"So he claims. Personally I think he's been unbalanced his whole career." Just then a vixen dressed as a waitress arrived with a camera. Hank grabbed Bogo and pulled him into frame. "Smile," the equine said and a moment later there was a brief flash.

"The chief rubbed his eyes. "You always were old school, even with you choice of cameras."

Hank shrugged. "There's no school like old school," he replied. Before Bogo could object, the tavern owner grabbed Deputy Butler and pulled her into frame before stepping out himself. There was a second flash and both the Cape buffalo and hinny were forever immortalized with a slightly startled, "deer in the headlights" expression on their faces.

"This one's going to be classic," Hank chuckled. He guided his two guests over to a nearby table and sat down with them. Tina followed, camera and notepad in hand. The equine looked up at her. "Have I had dinner yet this evening?"

"Not yet," she replied, "and if you don't eat something in the next half hour I've been instructed to call your wife."

Hank shrugged. "Alright then, one large ricotta cheese and garlic pizza with pineapple and extra alfalfa and a small pitcher of Half-Moon beer with three glasses."

"I'll have to pass on the drinks," the deputy said. "I'm still in uniform."

"Well then, why don't you go upstairs to your apartment and change? We'll keep the pizza hot and the beer cold until you get back."

Smiling, the hinny gathered her things and went out through the kitchen to the back stairs.

Hank gave Bogo a sly look. "Lucky bastard... you've landed yourself a really smart, assertive and nice looking gal with Lucy there. It's about time."

"Lucy?"

"You didn't know her friends call her Lucy? How long have you been dating?"

"We're not!" Bogo replied. "She a respected and highly valued member of my staff at Precinct One."

"I remember you use to say the same thing about Vivian before she became Mrs. Bogo," Hank said. "It's obvious you like her... I have the proof right here on camera. I assume it's your first date."

"It's not a date. I was only offering her a ride home."

"Tomato, Potato!" chuckled Hank.

The chief decided it was time to change subjects. "So, aside from becoming a business mammal, what have you been up to since retirement?" Bogo asked.

"Raising my grand-colt and grand-filly," the equine replied. "They lost their parents in a car accident fifteen years ago. Two straightest, most focused and creative kids you've ever seen, thanks in large part to my wife, Greta. The older one, Beatrice is currently working on her doctorate in Criminal Justice at Zootopia State and her brother, well let's just say that he could go pro in about half a dozen sports and make a successful career in whatever he chose. He's enrolled at Glades High School and is not only captain of their football and baseball teams, but he's a member of the Academic Decathlon Team and president of the Chess Club."

"Brains and Brawn, eh?" said Bogo.

"Damn straight. You might get a chance to meet him tonight. He often works Mondays through Wednesdays as my assistant, once he finishes his homework."

"Nice to know you've kept yourself busy these last few years," the chief said.

At that moment their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of both the food and Deputy Butler. The Hinny had kept her uniform skirt on, but substituted a cream colored V-necked blouse and rose colored button up sweater for her top. A pair of gold ear rings dangled from the base of her long ears and Bogo could faintly smell the scent of lilacs as he instinctively rose and pulled out her chair for her.

"Definitely a date," Hank muttered to no one in particular.