The Fire Triangle, A Zootopia Fanfiction -- Prologue, Chapter 6

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Disclaimer: Zootopia stories, characters, settings, and properties belong to the Walt Disney Co. This story is written under Fair Use Copyright laws

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The Fire Triangle - A Zootopia Fanfiction

Prologue – Escape From Zoo York

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Finally a character from the Zootopia movie puts in an appearance. (Two characters from the film, actually.)

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Chapter 6

Dylan could have kicked himself from here to Fawntauk Point; he'd been so sure the taxi-driver hadn't noticed what he was doing.

Yeah, riiiiiight!

"You keep looking in the rear-view mirror mi zorillo; you think someone's following us or something?"

"No, no," The young fox answered quickly. Even to him it sounded unconvincing, but what was he supposed to say, "Yeah, there's a gang of hard-tail mercs chasing me?" He'd be kicked out of the cab at the next light.

When the trio of taxis had screeched to a halt in front of Finagles parking lot, the question of which to take had been a straight up no-brainer; only one of the three had a fellow predator at the wheel.

At first glance, the young fox had taken him for a black leopard, but a quick examination of the operator's license on the back of his seat had revealed him to be a jaguar; Renato Manchas, late of Caracats Venizuela. He was practically the text-book example of a Zoo York City cab-driver; rosaries dangling from the rear-view mirror, a flat cap perched between his ears, and he'd demanded the $20 tip up front before moving his taxi. (After that, he was all smiles.)

Now when Dylan looked in the rear-view mirror again he caught the jaguar regarding him with a skeptical eye. Dangit, he'd have to give this big cat something.

And that was when something Danny Tipperin had told him popped quickly into his head.

"Whenever you run a hustle kid, always—always mix in as much of the truth as possible."

"Okay," the young fox pretended to sigh, "The cops caught me on the wrong side of the police line, back there at Flimflam's or whatever it's called. I managed to boogie before they could grab me, but...well...they were pretty mad." He ended the confession with a helpless shrug and then braced himself, crossing his fingers and praying hard that he wouldn't feel the taxi slowing and angling towards the curb.

Instead, Mr. Manchas gave a shrug of his own, and then he glanced back over the driver's seat with a cool, appraising expression.

"If you really think there's cops behind us mi zorillo, I can find out an' if they're back there, I can lose them...but it will cost you an extra 20."

Dylan considered the offer for a second. It sounded like a come-on—except for the jaguar's tone of voice. There was no teasing in his tone, no puffery; he might just as easily have said, "Yeah, I know how to get to the Barklyn Bridge." (And he wasn't pretending that someone was trailing his cab.)

It took the young fox only another second to make up his mind. "Do it."

Manchas reached up and turned his cap around.

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