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Just when Nick and Jack thought they would be going absolutely nowhere with there burglary case, something wonderful, something unexpected happened. A single El Paso police detective, one William "Billy" Mack showed up at the 1st Precinct to offer his assistance. The coyote made only one condition in return for his cooperation: when Billie Joe Sullivan and his girlfriend accomplice Bobbie Sue Murphy were apprehended, he wanted them formally extradited back to Texas, where they would face a possible death penalty for felony-murder. With nothing much more going in their favor, the duo of Wilde and Wolfard readily accepted the offer. Before any of them went out on the field that day, they decided to sit down and form a game plan.

"Any chance we could get some help from the Feds?" asked Jack.

"They ain't Federal fugitives, Jack," said Billy as he adjusted his bola tie.

Nick scratched at his chin, trying to figure out some way to gain additional resources in their hunt for the two raccoons. This didn't go unnoticed by the El Paso detective.

"Watcha thinkin', Nick?" asked the coyote.

"That file you showed me of Sullivan's arrest record . . ."

"What about it?" asked Billy, his interest in where the fox was going with this growing by the second.

"It says last year Sullivan was arrested for selling an eight ball of coke to an undercover police officer and was sentenced to two years of probation and mandatory drug rehabilitation classes, right?"

"That's right," nodded Billy.

"Kind of hard for him to keep the terms of his probation and attend those classes if he's here in Zootopia, isn't it?" said Nick, his face displaying a wide smirk. Billy Mack was impressed, giving the fox a pat on the back.

"Good thinkin', Nick. I'll call his probation officer and ask him to violate Sullivan for failure to comply with the terms of his probation!"

"After that, we can get hold of the U.S. Marshals and ask them to put Sullivan on their list of wanted fugitives, with Murphy listed as an accomplice for aiding a known criminal and helping them cross state lines," added Nick. "Either of you guys know the number for our regions Marshal's office?"

"I'll take care of that, Nick," said Jack, who quickly flipped through the contacts in his phone. "My cousin Jerome Wolfard is a Deputy U.S. Marshal. I'll call him and see how he can help us out."

"Thanks, Jack," said Nick. "After you guys take care of that, I think we need to go pay someone a visit that might know something about this."

"Who's that?" asked Billy, briefly covering his cell phone with his paw.

"Oh," grinned Nick. "Just an old friend of mine."

The trio of Nick, Jack and Billy completed their respective phone calls. Detective Mack was told that Sullivan would immediately have his probation violated, giving him the status of a Federal fugitive since he had crossed state lines. Jack's cousin Jerome informed them that his office was circulating fliers with Sullivan and Murphy's mugshots, as well as a list of crimes they were wanted for. The fliers were offering a $25,000 reward for information leading to the couple's apprehension. Everything was now in place for the trio to head out on the streets.

"Whose this friend of yours we're lookin' for, Nick?" asked Billy from the backseat of Nick's car.

"His name is Finnick," answered Nick. "Like his name implies, he's a fennec fox. He and I . . . well, we use to run hustles together."

"You . . . really?" uttered a dumbfounded Billy.

"Oh yeah," answered Jack. "Nick's lived quite the colorful past."

"That's one way of looking at it," chuckled Nick as he turned the corner onto the street he suspected Finnick would be at. "Well . . . look at this!"

Nick pointed down the street. He'd spotted the recognizable colors of Finnick's beat up, old van. Slowing his speed, the fox was able to carefully parallel park just behind his former partner-in-crime's van.

"You think he'll be up yet?" asked Jack, unbuttoning his jacket and making sure that his holster contained his service pistol.

"Positive," said Nick. "He's not exactly what you'd call a morning person."

"How we gonna do this, boys?" asked Billy.

Nick turned around to face the coyote, giving him his usual grin. "I don't see why we can't just go up and knock."

Jack and Billy nodded their approval. Everyone got out of the car, but were careful to close their doors quietly. With Nick in front, Jack and Billy kept their paws on their pistols; ready to draw down in an instant. Nick was far less cautious. Standing to the side of the van, he banged on the back door several times.

"Wakey, wakey, little foxie!" shouted Nick.

The fox's pounding was soon met with an angry Finnick opening the back door of his van. The diminutive fennec fox snarled hatefully at the trio of detectives as he brandished a wooden bat.

"What the hell do you want?" screamed Finnick.

In a flash, Billy had drawn his pistol and was now pointing it directly at Finnick. Nick had heard rumors about how quick Texas cops were to settle matters like this using deadly force, and swiftly stepped in to calm the situation.

"Whoa! Let's calm down, okay?" he said, standing in between Billy and Finnick.

"What the fuck you doin' here, Nick? You think you better than me now? You tell your friends here you used to be a low-life hustler like me?"

"They've heard the story," said Nick, completely unfazed by Finnick's tirade. "Why don't you put that bat down before my friend from El Paso puts a bullet between your eyes?" Nick stepped out from in between them.

Finnick glared menacingly at the coyote, trying to see if he could psych him out. Billy just shook his head, telling him. "Your move, son. But be advised I'm a damn fine shot, and a Louisville Slugger ain't much of a match for a forty-five caliber bullet!"

Seeing he was outnumbered and outgunned, Finnick threw the bat down in disgust. Folding his arms, he continued to glare hatefully at the three, even after Jack and Billy had holstered their weapons.

"Oh," smiled Nick. "You're always so cute when you're grumpy!"

"Why are you here anyway?" asked Finnick, still as angry as ever.

"Thought you might have some useful information us," said Nick.

"Information about what?" asked Finnick, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Information about who's been burglarizing the elite of Zootopia," stated Nick.

Finnick curled his lip in disgust. "I don't know a damn thing about it. Besides, why would I help you even if I DID know something?"

Nick poked his head inside Finnick's van, and the fennec fox instantly started to protest. "Hey! You don't have a warrant to look around in there!"

"Don't need one," said Nick. "You opened the door when we knocked. That's the same as inviting us in!"

"Get outta there!" screamed Finnick, making a grab at Nick's arm. The fox turned around swiftly and pointed at his two companions.

"This one just assaulted a police officer," said Nick. "Detective Wolfard, Detective Mack, would you please restrain him?"

Kick and scream as he might, the smaller canine found it impossible to resist the much stronger grasp of the wolf and coyote. All his machismo and bravado now gone, the fennec fox kicked and screamed in horror.

"Come on, Nick! Don't look around in there! Please!"

Nick turned around. "Why shouldn't I look around in here? Do you have drugs or explosives in here?"

"No!" shouted Finnick, still trying to free himself from Jack and Billy.

"Oh," said Nick, seeing the pillow and blanket in the back of the van. "Looks like you've been living in your vehicle! You should know that's in violation of a city ordinance that states no car or van is suitable for permanent habitation! Jack, why don't you call the Traffic Enforcement Department and have this clunker hauled off to the junkyard? It's such an eye soar anyway."

Finnick finally broke down. "Okay, okay! I'll talk! Just put me down!"

"It's okay, guys. Put him down," ordered Nick.

Finnick brushed himself off. Once again the fennec fox glared hatefully at the con artist turned police officer. His lip curled in disgust. "You're an asshole, you know that?"

"Yeah, that's nice," said Nick, not bothered in the least by his words. "Now, tell me what you know!"

"What makes you think I know anything about those burglaries?" snarled Finnick.

"With these ears of yours," said Nick, pinching the fennec fox's over-sized ears, "you've heard something about it."

Finnick thought about slapping away Nick's paw, but knew that he'd certainly be arrested for assaulting a police officer and more than likely lose his van in the process. Sighing, he spilled the beans to his former partner-in-crime.

"Look, all I know is there's talk of these two raccoons--male and female--that have been going around to all the local bars and have been spending money like crazy!"

"Buying rounds of drinks for everybody?" asked Billy.

"Yeah," said Finnick. "That sort of thing, that and tipping the bar tenders with tens and twenties. I saw both of 'em down at Lucky's Tavern just a few nights ago!"

Billy pulled out the mugshots of the two suspects, giving them to Finnick for a positive identification. "This them?"

Finnick looked for a only a brief moment. "Yeah, that's them! They had some weird accent; like you do, coyote."

"That's definitely them," said Billy. "I'd reckon there ain't too many Texans in Zootopia, is there?"

"Not many," said Nick, who still had more questions for Finnick. "Did you here anything about there future plans?"

"Nah," said Finnick, shaking his head. "But they were in there three nights in a row, so they might be there again tonight."

"Now, that's a plan," said Jack. "I say we call the Lieutenant and try to stake the place out tonight."

"Good idea," said Nick. "You gonna keep your mouth shut?" he asked Finnick.

"What's in it for me?" asked the still defensive fennec fox.

"I'll probably hate myself tomorrow morning for doing this," said the fox as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. "How's a fifty sound?"

"Hundred would be better," countered Finnick.

"Hey, Jack. You got the number for Traffic Enforcement? We still might need to haul this piece of crap away."

Finnick snatched the fifty from Nick's paw, all the while looking disgusted. "Fine, fifty it is!"

"You'll get another fifty when those two are in custody," reassured Nick.

"Deal," agreed Finnick. The three police officers said there good-byes before getting back in Nick's car and driving off. Finnick got back in his van and headed off to a new location; convinced that his former partner would be sending Traffic Enforcement there to tow away his van. Nick wasn't concerned in the least about Finnick's van. He would spend the rest of the afternoon getting himself ready for a possible all night stake out, and in a bar no less. The fox knew anything could happen. He'd be surrounded by alcohol, looking for two murdering robbers who would most likely not come along quietly. He looked through his cell phone, finding a picture of himself with his very pregnant wife Judy together, smiling, happy. He emitted a long, dreadful sigh.

"Hope I actually live to see you kids," he said before turning his phone off. It was going to be a long, long night.