An hour and a half had elapsed since the heated discussion between Blake and Jack. Following the altercation, Blake took a short rest.
He gets awakened by the vibration of his phone on the desk, signaling a call from The Golden Fang Clan. He grabs the phone and promptly answers it.
Blake: How do you dare disturb me in my slumber?
A deep voice responds, belonging to Gregory Kalashnikov, Raphael's trusted right-hand man, who is a giant polar bear. As one of Raphael's largest and most formidable bodyguards, he speaks with a low, intimidating tone, marked by a distinct Russian accent.
Gregory: Blake, listen carefully. The boss wants you at our compound tomorrow. He is assembling some of his men for a briefing. Make sure you're geared up and ready for the mission. We're expecting you at 5 a.m. Be here in time!
Blake: Wait what?! I thought I had a day off. Are you serious? Why do you always seem to be the one giving me instructions over the phone? I am tired of your voice. Geez, why can't Raphael find someone else? Look, I am not going anywhere tomorrow, for god's sake. Just give me a break already! I was told I was having a day off tomorrow!
Gregory: Mr. Thunder, you clearly don't remember what the contract said when you signed it. It is your sole obligation to do the bidding of our clan, so stop being a disrespectful and indolent fox, or I will flatten your head on the ground when you arrive. The boss is expecting your arrival early in the morning. Over.
Gregory hangs up, leaving Blake's phone beeping continuously.
Blake: What a jerk... I wonder what the hell Raphael wants this time...
Blake programs his phone to sound an alarm at 4:00 a.m. before returning to sleep. The next day, early in the morning, the alarm sets off, waking him up. He silences the alarm, gets dressed, and exits his bedroom. Meanwhile, Jack is sprawled on the couch, snoring. Blake walks over and gently nudges him multiple times to rouse him.
Blake: Hey, wakey, wakey, snowflake!!!
Jack: What? Blake?
Jack gradually settles onto the couch, still in a drowsy state, and glances at the clock.
Jack: Blake, what the hell? Why are you awake this early in the morning?
Blake: Listen to me, you icicle. I got a call from this chubby ice block yesterday. It seems that they need me at the clan's meeting today.
Jack: Wait a damn minute. This doesn't make any sense. I think you're supposed to have a day off today, so what's the deal?
Blake: Well, not anymore. It looks like there has been a change of plans. Just what I expected. I am going to take a bath. Could you please prep my equipment while I am in the shower?
Jack: Sure! It's great that I have a day off today, and it makes me curious as to why they didn't reach out to me as well.
Blake: They require someone more skilled.
Jack: Yeah, very funny.
Blake approaches the bathroom, opens the door, and pauses momentarily, glancing back at Jack.
Blake: Hey, snowflake. I am sorry once again for yesterday. I am a terrible friend...
Jack: C'mon, just forget it. None of us got injured. I forgive you. It's okay.... I shouldn't have messed with your feelings.
Blake: Thanks...Jack…
Blake steps into the bathroom as Jack rises and heads to Blake's locker. There, he collects Blake's firearms and suit, organizing everything while Blake showers. After a few minutes, Blake emerges from the shower, feeling rejuvenated and dry. He glances at the table, where all his gear is neatly arranged.
Blake: Well, snowflake, it's time. Thanks for preparing my stuff. You have even arranged them nicely on the table, wow! I am impressed! Thanks!
Jack: No problem!
Blake: By the way, don't think I have forgotten about those kids we've been arguing about yesterday.
Jack: For once, I hoped you wouldn't bring up this topic again. We'll think of something. But for now, stop being distracted by them and focus on your current duty.
Blake snarls as he retrieves his suit, puts it on, and secures his Glock 19 and elite tactical knife in their respective holsters.
Jack: Wait, no breakfast?
Blake: Nope!
Jack: But you haven't eaten since yesterday...
Blake: I'll eat whenever I want. There's going to be blood spouting everywhere. I can already feel it. I have little desire to eat for this reason.
Jack: Let's see what our boss has to offer this time for you...
Blake: You didn't get a call at all?
Jack: Nope.
Blake: I guess the boss sees no importance in you.
Jack: Whatever. Just tell him I am ready to do anything he wants. If he needs me, just tell him to contact me. Done.
Blake: Good. Gosh, I am not looking forward to slaughtering people again. But yeah, I'll do anything to please Raphael and make him proud. Well, whatever. I just want this to be over. Anyway, I am heading to the clan's underground hideout. I am getting tired of this sh*t.
Blake heads to the door and gets interrupted by Jack.
Jack: Blake! Be on your guard!
Blake: Don't worry about me, mate. I'll be back in no time!
Jack: Alright!
Blake steps outside and takes a deep, refreshing breath of the crisp air. He approaches his Hummer, gets inside, and drives towards the city of Zootopia. After a 20-minute journey, he parks in a lot near a bridge situated in one of the city's most neglected areas. The entrance to the Golden Fang Clan's hideout is concealed beneath the bridge itself. This particular bridge is not favored by the locals, resulting in minimal foot traffic. Its abandoned state makes it an ideal location for the clan's activities. Blake makes his way under the bridge and finds Gregory waiting for him at the discreet entrance.
Blake: Oh, great. Not this polar lunatic again.
Blake approaches him and looks up at him with disgust.
Gregory: At last, you're here. Just in time! How was your ride?
Blake: Stop questioning me... I wish I could be home right now, minding my own business, instead of staring at your fat ass right now.
Gregory: Blake, please try to speak more respectfully. I'm really tempted to smack the life out of you, but we need to keep things professional since the boss is expecting you.
Blake exhales in exasperation and attempts to disregard Gregory by moving toward a wall that acts as the entrance to the hideout. This inconspicuous door, constructed from concrete, blends seamlessly with the surrounding walls of the bridge and is fortified to be bulletproof. It can only be opened from the inside. There's always someone guarding the door in there.
Blake: Knock-knock, the big boy arrived. Open up the damn concrete door.
Surprisingly, no one listens to Blake, and the door doesn't get open...
Blake: Whoever is in charge of operating the door, wake up! It's me! Blake! Is anyone there?
Gregory: Nice trying, tough guy.
Blake shifts his attention to Gregory, initiating a series of inquisitive questions.
Blake: Okay, Gregory, is this some kind of setup? Why is no one opening the door for me?!
Gregory: You fool, who is the one questioning now? I am afraid there's going to be a teensy setback.
Blake: What the hell are you talking about now? Am I not allowed to go in? I want to talk to Raphael now! What the hell is going on?
Gregory: Well, let's say a good friend of mine wants to settle a dispute with you!
Blake: Too bad, I don't care. Let me help in this instance! Is this your version of being professional, Gregory? Screw you!
Blake becomes visibly distressed, making an effort to suppress his anger. Meanwhile, a black ferret adorned with orange stripes on its arms stealthily ascends Gregory's shoulders from the rear. It perches there, gazing down at Blake.
Blake: You gotta be kidding me! LOGAN?!
Logan: Yep, it's me, you nitwit. Now, surrender your weapons and fight me like a man!
Blake: I swear I will bust a cap in your filthy ass if you won't shut up! You both are so damn frustrating! Just let me in and stop messing around.
Logan: You are not going through unless you fight me!
Blake: Greg, what the hell? Do something with him. He is wasting our time.
Gregory: I have nothing to do with this, I swear! I am sorry, Mr. Thunder, but as I was waiting for you here, he came up to me and told me he wanted to crack open your head. So, like I said, I have nothing to do with this. In fact, we should head inside. Raphael is waiting.
Logan: Not so fast! Greg! Just one round, and I will finish him off!
Logan leaps from Gregory's shoulder and approaches Blake.
Blake: What?! Do you seriously want to get hurt?
Logan: I could ask you the same question! Surrender your weapons and fight me!
Blake: What is wrong with you? Why do you want me to fight you?!
Logan: Oh, there's plenty of reasons for that, you backstabbing buffon! You forgot to split the money with me that we received yesterday for destroying the Zakota Clan's hideout!
Blake: You're wrong. You didn't earn it. I don't even remember you being assigned to that operation.
Logan: Look, you foolish fox. I volunteered, meaning I deserve double the reward!
Blake: You did voluntary work, meaning you're not getting paid. Get lost!
Logan: I am not going anywhere!
Blake: Do you really want to get stabbed to death?!
Logan: What?!
Logan scowls and opposes Blake.
Logan: Show me what you have, fool! You think you can rub everyone out in the whole world? You think you are an unstoppable fox capable of overpowering everyone who stands in your way? You're nothing but an unsympathetic fox playing the tough guy here. I am not afraid of you! Show me what you are capable of! I am here to beat your ass after all!
Blake's demeanor shifts to a threatening glare, filled with a desire to reprimand the ferret. He approaches it and scrutinizes it intently.
Blake: Oh, someone got offended because I said some really nasty shit about them a few days ago and I didn't split the money with them! How shameful, isn't it? Well, bring it on, you puny sleazebag!
Gregory: Logan! Blake! Enough! There's no time for measuring your combat skills with each other! Just let him pass. I don't want to upset Raphael or fail him. I am not taking responsibility for this, Logan, just saying. Let's just go inside already!
Logan ignores Gregory's words, and Blake does the same. The two continue to fixate on one another until Logan throws a punch at Blake's face, causing him to turn around, clutch his nose, and crack it with his hand. Following this, Blake erupts into maniacal laughter.
Logan: COME AT ME! JERK! WHAT'S SO FUNNY?!
Blake: You have literally tickled my nose. What kind of punch was that supposed to be? See? This is why I hate to fight people like you. Because they are nothing but simple weaklings! How often do you work out? You're languishing, mate.
Blake delivers a powerful blow to Logan's face, causing him to collapse to the ground with blood streaming from his nose.
Logan: You piece of filth!
Gregory: Thunder! What the hell are you doing?! Stop this immediately, or I will interfere!
Blake: I am just returning the favor!
Blake brandishes his tactical combat knife, positioning it near Logan's neck as he holds him down on the ground.
Logan: GREGORY! DO SOMETHING!
Blake: That's it, you little dirty rat! SCREAM FOR HELP!
Gregory: You two are going to get into a lot of trouble!
Logan: Blake, you won! I concede to you! Please stop it!
Blake: Oh, you little crybaby! It looks like someone lost their valiancy all of a sudden! It only takes a slight, soft cut on your fragile neck to end your pathetic life! Just don't mess with me anymore!
Gregory fires his shotgun into the sky in an attempt to capture Blake's attention, but his efforts prove ineffective.
Gregory: Leave him alone! Have you lost your mind?!
Unbeknownst to them, the entire scenario is under surveillance by a concealed camera. Blake disregards Gregory's warnings and continues to intimidate Logan. Moments later, a section of the concrete wall slides open, and numerous members of the Golden Fang Clan emerge, encircling Blake with their weapons drawn.
Blake: Oh, bollocks...now what?!
Logan pushes Blake aside, rises to his feet, and sprints towards Gregory.
Logan: AT LAST! You fools have finally been alerted!!!
Blake: And at long last, this damn vault is open! And hey! I am not the one to shoot here. Your target is...
Blake points at the ferret. The members of the GFC (Golden Fang Clan) do not glance at Logan; instead, they maintain their focus on Blake, targeting him with various weapons.
Logan: You'll dearly pay for your sins, fox! Wipe him out! NOW!
Suddenly, a figure emerges at the entrance of the hideout, bellowing "HOLD YOUR FIRE" as it strides toward the assembly of GFC members. The figure's orange-yellow eye radiates in the darkness as it steps out. It is a formidable, towering Bengal tiger clad in a purple tuxedo, puffing on a cigar. A prominent scar runs along the left side of its face, and a patch obscures its left eye, lending the tiger a menacing aura. This is unmistakably the feared, ruthless criminal mastermind and leader of the GFC, Raphael Roarlington!
Raphael: What is going on here?!
He observes his men holding Blake at gunpoint and then exhales deeply, filled with disappointment and anger.
Raphael: Why am I always surrounded by individuals lacking in intelligence and discernment? How could this escalate into this mess? Stand aside, you morons! Leave Blake alone!!!
All members of the GFC step back and lower their weapons. Raphael appears visibly frustrated as he strides past Blake without acknowledging him, making his way directly to Gregory and Logan, who remain frozen in place.
Logan: Boss, I can explain!
Logan replied with a shaky voice full of nervousness.
Raphael: Explain to me how you have the audacity to issue orders to my men and treat Mr. Thunder so poorly.
Logan remains silent; he only mumbles something.
Raphael: Speak up! I want to hear you loud and clear, ferret! Now is your chance to speak with your mouth open, just like when I am not around.
Logan: It...got...out...of...control...sir.
Raphael: It got out of control. I don't think that's enough of an excuse for me to spare your miserable life. Oh, my bad! Sorry for inhibiting you with my presence! I shouldn't have even come here, I guess.
Logan: But, boss, Blake is the one who started it all with the insults and the fight, right, Greg?
Gregory: Mate, I am not getting involved in this conversation unless the boss wants me to.
Raphael: Greg, you're clear. But You! Logan!
Logan remains extremely tense...
Logan: Boss! I am begging you!
Logan drops to his knees, pleading with Raphael for forgiveness.
Raphael: Quit sniveling, you troublesome ferret. You may continue to weep, but do not anticipate that your life will be spared as a result of your misconduct.
Logan: I apologize for all this inconvenience, sir, but I think you need to know something important! I helped this damn fox destroy the Zakota Clan's hideout, so I think I deserve to be rewarded too!
Blake: You didn't even shoot anyone or help me at all! Stop lying!
Raphael: I don't remember hiring you for this operation, Logan. You did a voluntary job, and I am unwilling to pay you for something you decided to do on your own, in this case, undertaking this operation. That's just laughable. That's just how it goes. Rules are rules!
Logan: Are you serious? I deserve double the reward! You have no idea how many things I can effectively do!
Raphael: The only thing you can effectively do is threaten, insult, and impede the members of the Golden Fang Clan!
Logan: Please!!!! I'll do anything to undo my mistakes, boss!
Blake cuts in and joins the conversation, walking next to Raphael...
Blake: Well, Raphael, thanks for saving my ass, I guess, but I think this little pesky flea deserves forgiveness... There's no need to make this situation worse.
Raphael: Compassion is our greatest enemy. We show no mercy to anyone, Blake! He failed to follow the rules of the clan many times before. He has not shown up several times at important meetings, and now this! I have forgiven him numerous times before, but there's no point for me to forgive him ever again; therefore, he is sentenced to death!
Logan is rendered speechless by Raphael's announcement.
Logan: You can't just kill me. All thanks to a cursed fox. I helped your clan; can't you understand? Fine, just fire me. I am not needed here anymore.
Blake: Just let him go, Raphael.
Raphael discards his cigar on the ground and extinguishes it with his foot. An eerie silence envelops the base of the bridge.
Logan: So, could you please let me go? I won't show up anymore, deal? I RESIGN! I admit I've caused much damage to this clan, but forgiveness is all I need, and then you'll never see me again. I could really use a vacation right now too, so please, boss!
Raphael shakes his head in disbelief as he hoists Logan into the air. He then draws his Golden Desert Eagle and fires a shot into Logan's abdomen.
Raphael: Here's your one-way ticket to hell!
Logan, rendered speechless by excruciating pain, lets out a loud moan before Raphael hurls him over the railing, sending Logan plummeting into the river. Everyone is struck with terror as they watch his vulnerable, lifeless form drift downstream, stained with blood.
Blake: I did not expect this to end like this.
Gregory: Neither did I.
Raphael: It was a well-deserved fate! EVERYONE! You're dismissed. Showtime's over! Return to your posts.
All members of the GFC re-enter the underground facility, while Blake, Gregory, and Raphael stay outside.
Blake: This is simply unbelievable. This was just so outrageous.
Gregory: And you thought you were the most ruthless fox in Zootopia.
Raphael: Blake, I apologize for the inconvenience. Please head to my office and wait for me there. I have another matter to attend to before we meet in the briefing room. I will join you shortly.
Blake: I understand, sir. Finally! I have been granted access to the vault.
Blake descends into the vault, moving down the stairs before vanishing into the shadows.
Raphael: Gregory, I need you to assemble the majority of our men. I am holding an important meeting in our briefing room. I'll explain the details there.
Gregory: I'll gather some of our finest men as soon as possible.
Raphael: Consider it done! Dismissed!
Gregory: Yes, boss!
Gregory enters the vault, tasked with gathering the top GFC members for an upcoming briefing in the conference room. Meanwhile, Raphael makes his way back to the railing, gazing thoughtfully at the river.
Raphael: Are you enjoying the vacation?
He erupts into maniacal laughter, having finally eliminated Logan.