FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Three nights later Officers Fangmeyer and Wolfard were making a left turn onto Alamein Road in Sahara Square when they thought they spotted their elusive equine. He had just come out of a back alley and was crossing the street in the middle of the 1700 block. Upon reaching the other side, he glanced both up and down the street then appeared to duck into yet another alley that led behind an apartment building. Wolfard, who was driving, quickly slewed the patrol vehicle to the right bringing it to a stop against the curb as neatly as a pin. Within moments both officers were on their feet and jogging down the alley.

After moving about halfway down the alley they slowed and brought their tranq guns out. Ahead of them, in the dim light they could just make out a caped figure wearing a flat, bolero hat. He was definitely equine and seemed to move as if he knew exactly where he was going. Fangmeyer signed to her partner to move forward slowly. They followed until the figure reached the cellar window for a five story, post-modern brownstone and paused for a moment. He brought out some kind of flat object and wedged it against the window lock. A quick twist and the window silently slid open. Without a moment's hesitation the equine slipped through the window and disappeared inside.

"Wolfard... go around front and get to the lobby where you can watch the stairs coming up from the basement. Stop any mammal you see exiting the basement."

Her partner nodded and moved off rapidly down a side alley to the street. The radio crackled softly a moment later. "I'm in position. No one came up the stairs. This place looks big. I think we should call for back-up."

"Roger," replied the tiger. "Hold position for back-up." She quietly turned the volume down on her shoulder mike and put out the call. "All units in Task Force Edward King, this is One Adam Eight, go to Tac three."

"One Adam Twenty-One, Tac three."

"This is Five Boy Eleven, monitoring, Tac three."

"Three Adam Six, with you on Tac three."

"Four Adam Six, Tac three."

"Two Adam Twelve, standing by, Tac three."

"All units, this is One Adam Eight. We have confirmed sighting of Edward King suspect entering apartment at 2437 Westerlandia Drive. Request all units respond, silent approach."

Within five minutes the building was surrounded by police cars with their lights blacked out and nine additional officers. Three were positioned in front with Wolfard, the remainder were just about to silently force the basement door. Thanks to Wolfard, the building manager was with Fangmeyer and had provided a key to the basement. All officers had their flashlights and tranq guns out."

"I don't know why anyone would be in the basement. It's pretty much an empty space with nothing more than a water heater and storage rooms for the tenants."

"Anyone you know hang out down here?" Fangmeyer asked.

The manager, an old, half-deaf ant eater just shook his head. Before the tiger could ask him anything else there was a sudden, cacophonous explosion of noise, led by a distinctive set of chords from an acoustic guitar. Yells, screams and high pitched whistles burst through the night.

"All units, this is One Adam Eight... It's going down now. Non-lethal force only! Move in... NOW! NOW! NOW!!!"

The door in front of Fangmeyer crashed inward and the lights in the room suddenly flashed on, momentarily blinding the tiger. "ZPD...EVERYONE... FREEZE! HANDS IN THE AIR!"

**********

Chief Bogo slowly paced back and forth in front of the assembled officers, growling under his breath. Everyone present stood at attention except for Hopps and Wilde who stood next to the bullpen door. Nick was leaning ever so slightly against the door frame trying to keep his head turned so the chief couldn't see the humorous grin that he was desperately trying to hide. Judy stood calmly at parade rest, her whole demeanor relaxed but attentive. Everyone else was sweating nervously.

"Hopps! How many El Kabongs did you count when you checked out the holding tank this morning."

"Ah... that would be two and a half dozen, if you don't count the ones who got darted during the raid."

"And if you count them?" asked Bogo.

"Thirty-seven, sir!"

"And how many actually resembled our vigilante?"

Wilde answered for his partner. "Examining the different costumes and breeds of equine, only three, two of which were definitely female."

Bogo stopped pacing for a moment to glare at Fangmeyer and Wolfard. "Thirty-seven. Thirty-seven civilians! All rounded up courtesy of an El Kabong themed Rave party!" The Cape buffalo began pacing again. "That's thirty-seven potential lawsuits for abuse of authority and public endangerment... IT'S NOT EVEN EIGHT FORTY-FIVE IN THE MORNING AND I HAVEN'T HAD MY COFFEE YET! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA OF WHAT I'M LIKE WITHOUT MY MORNING COFFEE?"

Nick raised his hand as if ready to answer but Judy quickly intervened by punching him lightly in the arm. "Ow!" the fox grunted softly under his breath. "Was that really necessary," he whispered to his partner.

"Yes!"

"IF I DON'T GET MY MORNING COFFEE I GET VERY IRITABLE," the chief continued. He stopped pacing and turned back towards his officers.

"It would appear that none of you have a truly accurate idea of what this El Kabong looks like. So this is what we will do! I want you all to take a seat and product for me six sets each of a standard, hand drawn, front, side and back view artist's rendering of our masked vigilante. You will take your description from the daily hot sheet that Hopps and Wilde provided you the other day. Anyone who can't produce the required number of mug shots in the next two hours will be sent back to the academy during your next three day off duty cycle for a refresher in suspect identification. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

"SIR, YES SIR!"

"Then get started!"

There was a mad scramble for pencils, paper and rulers as the eleven officers grabbed seats and began drawing out six sets of mug shots for a suspect.

Bogo marched for the bullpen door, pausing for a moment in front of the fox. "Wilde... you stay with them and collect their work when they finish. Make sure no one leaves before completing their task."

Nick's face fell abruptly. "Me, sir?"

"Yes, you. I don't like seeing one of my officer's smirking when I'm administering discipline to another officer." The chief looked over at Judy. "Hopps... would you be so kind as to grab me a double espresso from the coffee cart in front of the station and bring it to my office before my head explodes?"

"Yes sir! Uh... what size?"

"Use your imagination," Bogo replied as he exited the room.

Judy turned to go. As she did she heard Nick mutter to no one in particular, "I was not smirking!"

**********

Despite its size, the van was more than a little crowded with seven furs of different sizes all pushed together.

"What time do you have, Clint?" asked a large bear.

"Nine Fifty-Two."

"Good, that means Rico and Little Boy are about to hit the exchange over on seventh."

The wolf nodded excitedly. "And Xerces, Longtom and Bruce will be taking out Pinkerton's on the opposite side of Savanah Central, leaving the Jeweler's Emporium just for us." Moments later two ZPD vehicles shot past heading west, their lights and siren blazing away with obsessive insistence. Clint looked at his watch. Another two, perhaps three police vehicles could be heard in the distance moving east, away from Savanah Central's hub.

"We move in three. Give the cops a chance to get to the other two locations."

"Right," muttered one of the wolves. Listening, the predators could make out the sounds of police sirens cutting out some distance away.

The bear nodded to the others. "Okay... its go time." The back and side doors of the windowless van flew open and six mammals jumped out moving rapidly for the front of a large jewelry store. The seventh gang member, a zebra, remained inside and started the engine.

It took less than ten seconds for the bear to reach the front door. His timing was perfect. He slammed into the security door just as a middle-aged badger was pulling out a set of keys to lock it from the inside. The badger was hurled back into a wall as the gang forced its way into the display room. They immediately spread out, smashing open glass cases and grabbing handfuls of gold, silver and antique coins along with jewelry of all kinds. A young, female capybara working the cashier's station screamed and slammed down the security cage, isolating herself from the rest of the store. This immediately triggered both a silent and not so silent alarm.

The bear grabbed at the badger, pulling him to his feet and relieving him of his keys. He pushed the mammal towards the store's office.

"Which key?" the robber asked. The badger pointed to one with a number seven on it. Switching hands the bear swiftly unlocked the door and pushed the employee inside. "Two minutes, everyone! Grab what you can and be out the door in two minutes.

Turning back to his victim the bear nodded towards a large safe built into the wall. "Open it!"

"I can't," the badger replied. "It's on a time lock and..."

The robber cuffed him across the side of his head. "Don't lie to me. We know your routine. You always set the time lock on the safe after securing the front door and the display counters. Now OPEN IT!"

Shakily, the badger hunched over the safe and worked the combination lock, all the while aware of the sawed-off shotgun pointed at his back. Within a few seconds there was a loud metallic click and he easily pulled open the doors.

Gesturing with his gun, the bear forced the badger back and made him lie on the floor, face down. He quickly rifled through the safe removing several large stacks of cash, and half a dozen pouches filled with gems of various types and sizes. A buzzer went off on his watch.

"TIME!" yelled the bear as he exited the office. The other robbers immediately grabbed their own swag bags and headed for the door. Dashing for the nearby van they clambered onboard. The bear was the last one in. He slammed the door closed. "GO! GO! GO!" he screamed at the driver. The zebra immediately threw the vehicle into drive and hit the gas. There was a horrendous grinding sound and the vehicle slewed to the left into the street but did not move even an inch forward. "Something's wrong with the transmission," he reported.

Cursing, the bear leapt back out of the van and looked at the wheels only to discover someone had attached a security boot to the left rear tire. Before he could say anything he felt a double pin prick strike him in the ass. Seconds later he was lying in the street, his tongue hanging comically out of his mouth. At almost the same moment a gas grenade flew through the now open van door and exploded inside, sending the occupants within into individual fits of coughing and gasping. It was followed by a smoke bomb that enveloped the entire outside of the vehicle.

One of the robbers, a brown-furred yak staggered out of the van, a revolver gripped in his hand. He turned to his left only to be confronted by a shadowy figure stepping out of the smoke. Before he could bring his gun up his muzzle came into contact with the leading edge of a guitar. The gang member staggered back and slammed into the side of the vehicle before dropping to the ground, unconscious. A second would-be jewel thief fared no better as he caught the flat of the reinforced guitar across his head when he tried bailing out the back doors of the van.

Confused and weakened by the smoke and gas, the remaining four robbers panicked as they tried to escape one by one. Each in turn was met with either a guitar to the head or a round-house kick that put them down and out. In less than a minute the scene went from total chaos to absolute quiet. A light breeze picked up and began to clear the air even as a single ZPD patrol unit arrived in response to the alarm. The lone officer within took one look at the van and its now unconscious occupants and immediately called for back-up. The mysterious equine had vanished as if borne away with the smoke.

Despite the lateness of the hour, a small crowd started to form and it was all the single, leopard police officer could do to keep the site secure. It was not surprising therefore when one of the robbers, a medium-sized gray rhino regained consciousness. He pushed himself up off the ground, realized the situation he was in and tried to grab a hostage. In the confusion, he managed to pull a revolver from underneath his jacket and snag a middle-aged, female impala by the horns. The officer responded by leveling his tranq gun at the suspect even as the bystanders abruptly pulled back. The sound of a police siren could be heard approaching in the distance.

"Back off, or the antler-head gets it, right between the eyes." To emphasize the point he shifted his grip to the hostage's neck, causing her to cry out in pain. Despite the threat, the leopard held his ground.

"Drop your weapon and let the hostage go," the officer ordered. Even as he spoke he knew the darts in his gun couldn't take out the heavy set thug fast enough to save the impala's life.

"No... You back off and toss me the keys to your car, or she dies," the rhino yelled. "Do it, man! I'm not kidding!"

"Neither am I," called a third voice from the shadows. Both the rhino and leopard turned to see a tall equine wearing all black step into dim, reflected lamp light from a nearby telephone pole. The figure quietly studied both the officer and the robber for a long moment, smiling momentarily and nodding to the police mammal before speaking again.

"It looks like what we have here is an old-fashioned, western style standoff," the equine said quietly. "The only question is, which one of us is Lee Van Cleaf and which is Clint Beastwood?" He pulled aside his cape revealing the antique colt resting on his right hip.

The rhino twisted around so the impala was between him and the ZPD officer and he was facing the equine. His voice was strained and nearby mammals could hear both the determination and fear in it. "This isn't some kind of movie, you idiot. It's real-life! And if you don't back off now, she will die! Believe me... I mean it!!"

"Oh...Trust me. I believe you," the masked mammal replied, locking his eyes with the rhino. "Mitterent obsidem deposcendam!" he called out to the leopard.

The robber was momentarily confused. "What?"

An instant later there was the soft "paff" sound of a dart being fired and the female impala abruptly sagged in the grip of the rhino. Encumbered by her sudden dead weight he was thrown off balance and she slipped quietly to the ground out of his grasp. Cursing out loud the robber brought up his own gun, aiming it at the figure in black. Two shots rang out. The first passed through the wrist of the rhino's gun hand, forcing him to reflexively open his fingers. The second struck the pistol itself, knocking it out of the robber's hand. Five more darts abruptly leapt out from the leopard's gun, striking the rhino. He staggered around for about twenty seconds, then with a heavy thud fell bonelessly to the pavement.

The leopard moved in quickly and secured the criminal even as the equine spun his pistol backhanded and slid it smoothly into his holster. He looked at the figure in black. "How the hell did you know I spoke Latin?"

"Couldn't but help notice your unusual tie-tac. I knew a teacher once who had one exactly like it. Figured if you were anything like her you knew how to think outside the box."

The leopard looked down at the pin prominently and proudly displayed there. For a moment he thought back to his days in college as a member of the Latin Society. He looked up, but when he did the vigilante was gone, having disappeared into the shadows.

"Hey! Get back here you son-of-a-bitch. I'm supposed to arrest you!" The leopard grimaced to himself, wondering if there was any way to write a report where Chief Bogo wouldn't put him on parking duty.