The Fire Triangle -- Part II, Oxidizer

The Fire Triangle: Book II - Chapter 33

And so, for the moment, the crowd of angry young mammals was willing to limit their activity to showering their opponents with catcalls and hoots of derision—together with the occasional musical number. All the while, the officers opposing them from the outside remained silent; refusing to give them the satisfaction.

When at last the cacophony seemed to be subsiding, an amplified voice from the outer line of police spoke up.

"Attention...attention everyone, this is Chief Bogo of the ZPD..." He had to pause here, waiting until the chorus of mockery from the other side dampened down, "You are in violation of section 221-C of the Zootopia Municipal Code, unlawful assembly plus numerous acts of vandalism. You are therefore ordered to disperse at once...." Again he had to stop and weather a cascade of ridicule. He let it pass, but when he spoke again, it was in his stiffest 'no-nonsense' voice. "You have five minutes to comply, starting from...now! If you choose to do so, you will be allowed safe passage through the ZPD lines. Should you not choose to comply within that time period, make no mistake...we WILL move in to retake our precinct, and you will be subject to arrest. This is your final warning."

For perhaps thirty seconds there was no reply. And then another musical number rose up from the rioters' lines.

"Weapons not food, not homes, not shoes
Not need, just feed the war cannibal animal"

There was no mistaking the tune for anything other than what it was, a taunt, aimed directly at the Chief of the ZPD.

The title of the song was Bulls on Parade.

What happened next was even easier to interpret. A young pronghorn buck stepped forth from the crowd of malcontents with a white flag held high above his head. None of the officers facing him lowered their weapons as he came forward, prompting another round of jeering from his comrades.

"Hey cowards, where's your guts?"

"Whoa, look at the big, tough macho-cops!"

"Oooo, a scaaaaaary kid with a WHITE flag!"

"Ain't that tuff enuuuuff?"

Still the young pronghorn came on, and still the officers kept him in their sights. He was perhaps fifteen feet away, when a young Brazilian free-tailed bat crawled up on top of his head and raised a wing, flicking a lighter. When the flame touched the truce flag it caught almost instantaneously...and now the officers could see that it was attached not to a pole but to a bottle.

A voice—several voices—shouted, "Incoming!" as the antelope heaved the Moletov Cocktail and turned to run for the sanctuary of his own lines. The missile bounced off a riot shield and then exploded when it hit the ground, luckily injuring no one. Several officers tried to get a bead on the fleeing pair of young fire-bugs, but it was a useless gesture. After cheetahs, pronghorn antelope are the most fleet-footed mammals on earth—and free-tailed bats are the fastest flyers. Even in daylight, they would have made for difficult targets. In a night obscured by smoke and fire, they were all but impossible to hit. When they crossed back into their own territory, they were greeted by cheers, whoops, and slaps on the back.

Bogo let them enjoy their moment of victory, and then lifted the mike once more.

"Right then; you've had your chance. All units...move in!"

At once, the line of police parted and a vehicle passed through, a big-wheeled armored car, sporting a water-cannon, mounted above the cab. In the space of an eyeblink the blaze created by the makeshift fire-bomb was blasted to extinction. And then the phalanx of riot-police began their advance, shields and batons at the ready. Behind them came more police, outfitted with an assortment of gas and rubber projectile weapons.