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The warehouse district in Savannah Square. Hot didn't even begin to describe the weather, here. The Savannah-borne animals liked their weather hot, Nick knew, but this seemed to be a little ridiculous. He had a pack of SWAT wolves behind him, he was wearing a Kevlar vest. Black as per usual, with bright, white letters, denoting POLICE across his back and his chest. He had his sidearm out and loaded. They were on the right side of the entrance with Judy and the SWAT commander back at the van.

Nick looked up at the upper level and noticed two windows, whose glass had long been shattered. The warehouse was dark. That didn't surprise him, many canines had excellent night vision, so wouldn't be bothered by extremely low light. But human's reliance on tools for everything meant that their night vision was poor. Meaning that the hairless ape was being mentally tortured along with his being raped.

This 'yote would never see another moon if Nick had anything to say about it. “Alright, breacher forward. Arm the door." The commander called over the radio. A lanky wolf who was slightly smaller than the rest of the pack moved forward. Carrying with him a large device which looked like a bulkhead door from a ship. Nick noticed that this wolf was wearing extra Kevlar and also ceramic plating. Explosives. A door breaching device. He'd heard of these things, using water and det chord they were able to effectively remove doors without having to use excessive force.

The commander counted down, “3… 2… 1…Breach." And there was a muffled WHUMPF! And the breacher lifted the device back up. A hole, perfectly in the shape of the breaching device stood as evidence of its effective use. “Go! Go! Go!" Nick rushed into action, sweeping his sidearm across the section of the room which was his responsibility. Nothing.

“Clear Left." Nick called out.

The first SWAT in shouted, “Clear Right." Behind him. They moved into the entry. Nick heard the call of “POLICE DON'T MOVE," then a THOOMP THOOMP THOOP. Of the third man and his MP-5—one of many gifts from the hairless apes--and he looked up to see an equine of some sort fall off a catwalk.

“Clear topside."

The warehouse design was pretty standard. One large room a few catwalks and a seemingly endless trove of boxes and shipping containers making a maze of the interior. The last of the breaching team came through the door. The squad leader came up to Nick and said, “Entrance clear, we move to sweep through the whole Warehouse. Find any perps. Cuffs or body bag?"

“Cuff who you can, do what the situation calls for. I'm not going to forbid use of deadly force. They won't give us the same luxury." Nick replied.

The commander called over the radio, “Agreed. Deadly force authorized. Our top priority is to find the hairless ape. Sarge, you're with Wilde. Everyone else pair off. Standard Clearance procedure."

“Understood, El-Tee. Detective, with me."

“Understood."

The team paired off and went through the maze of boxes and catwalks, making their way toward the back of the warehouse. If he knew Cameron like he thought he did, the human was going to be in a cage in the back of the warehouse. Waiting to be sold to the highest bidder. The man wasn't just a serial rapist, if he thought one was a good enough lay, he would claim them and then sell them off in an auction. Nick may have met the end of his rocket a few times, but apparently hadn't been enough of a good lay for the yote to kidnap him. He just had to hope that favor he'd called in from Mr. Big paid off, just in case they couldn't get to the human in time.

Another shout of “POLICE! DROP YOUR WEAPON!" a spattering of gunfire. Then the wolf howled. The signal the SWAT team used for 'Hostage found'. The whole pack—Nick included—howled back. Nick always hated howling. Especially among wolves. Fox vocalizations were always higher pitched than that of the timber wolves who typically made up a SWAT team. The first couple of times he'd worked with the SWAT wolves they'd laughed at it. Now, a few grinned, but that was it. The joke had worn itself thin.

The SWAT team hurried to where they'd heard the wolf's howl come from. Nick grabbed his phone and dialed the number for dispatch, “This is Detective Wilde, badge number 011469, I need a bus to 135 Shariff Street, Sahara Square, forthwith."

“10-4, Detective. Ambulance is on its way."

***

Like Nick thought, the human was in a cage. He'd expected the nudity. He'd expected the cage to smell of spent seed—several different species, from what he could tell—He'd expected the human to be tied to the cage in some way. And he was. The thing that Nick hadn't considered, even though it probably should have been obvious in hindsight, were the obvious signs of physical abuse and practical butchery that the child had been exposed to.

He was missing an ear. And two fingers. His left eye was swollen shut as if hit relatively recently. He was covered in bruises in other areas of his body. He was slightly shocked that Cameron would treat his 'product' so terribly. Speaking of the coyote, a whiff of blood and his scent wafted across Nick's nose before his eyes caught sight of Cameron splayed out on the floor in a pool of his own blood from several gunshot wounds. Then Nick saw against an adjacent crate the SMG that he'd probably raised at the SWAT wolf. Nick wanted severely to spit at the body but knew that wouldn't be good for Crime Scene.

He walked over to the cage where he saw the door had been left unlocked. They'd probably caught Cameron as he was going in for another round of rape and torture of the human. The cage door creaked on its hinges and Marcus whimpered. Nick introduced himself in a calm, reassuring tone, “Marcus? My name is Detective Nick Wilde with the Zootopia Police Department. I'm coming in to release you. Everything's going to be okay now."

Another whimper. Nick entered the cage and that's when he smelled just how badly Marcus's hole had been abused. Several Zebra. Cameron. A few wolves. A polar bear. Several Otters. Nick almost lost his lunch from how rancid the air was with seed. They could do a rape kit later and figure out all the perpetrators. Nick took out a utility knife and cut the ties holding Marcus to the cage floor in a way which put his abused anus on full display. And Marcus collapsed prone.

“Marcus? Speak to me. Your dad and boyfriend are very worried about you."

“No more! No more! Get away! Get away..." Marcus cried out.

Nick looked at the human, obviously he'd been mentally tortured by the Coyote. Kept in the dark as he was, for a creature which relied so heavily on their sense of vision, which wasn't as adapted to low light as his or many canid's, that must have been really torturous. To make that worse by playing on the human's fears. And apparently hopes. That was low. Nick was glad that the SWAT wolf had caught Cameron, Nick wasn't sure he would have just killed the bastard of a coyote.

Nick grabbed a flare. “Close your eyes, Marcus. I'm lighting a flare to help you see better. I know it's dark. And I'm sure you're scared because of the gunfire. But believe me when I tell you that you're safe now." Nick popped the flare. It flared to life in his hand. A low whooshing noise emanated along with the occasional sparks and bright red flame. Once the initial flare-up subsided Nick told Marcus he could open his eyes.

“I...It's...oh thank God! I thought Cameron was fucking with my head again." Marcus said. His speech sounded off though. Like he was speaking with his mouth full.

“It's not Cameron. That fucker is dead as door nails." Nick pointed over to the body, “It's really me. Detective Nicholas P. Wilde and my fellow officers here to take you home."

Marcus looked over and saw the silhouette of Cameron's prone form and the reflection of the flare's red light off the pool of blood it was in. He curled over and started crying. “It's over! It's finally over. Damn coyote kept me in the dark—literally—this entire time. Had his clients 'try out the merchandise'. Cut off my ear. My fingers. My tongue!"

Nick clearly understood why Marcus's voice was so garbled. Removing the tongue was not unheard of in the lower boroughs. Nick knew that some of the Coyote packs did it to mouthy prisoners. So, it wasn't a surprise to see that Marcus had been given the same treatment.

Nick wanted to rub the hairless ape's back, but wasn't sure that would be a good idea, considering his traumatic experience. Nick asked in a low voice, “Can you walk, kid? I'm going to cut your ties."

The human nodded his head. “Yeah. Barely, though. Last one was a Zebra." He said it with such nonchalance. But Nick saw the shudder run down the kid's spine and the haunted look in his eyes. “Gonna be bow-legged for a while."

Nick just managed to keep his breakfast. Only barely. He was going to tell the EMT to check for prolapse. With the amount of Horse and Zebra scent on him, it was likely. Damn Cameron. Nick hoped he was in the darkest deepest pit of whatever hell the coyotes tended to believe in. Being reamed by some ungodlily hung demon. That would serve the fucker right. He went over and cut the ties. Grabbed under the kids arm and hauled him up.