Chapter V: To Save the Season

As the next two days passed, each of the Rescue Rangers did their personal best to further the defense of the holiday. Gadget was constantly at work either in her workshop, or in the hangar, rebuilding the Rangerwing. Tammy spent her time perfecting the plane she had constructed, and treating Gadget's constant electrical shocks.

"I swear," she said to the inventor, on the morning of the second day. "I think you must have picked up bad habits from Sparky!"
"S-s-s-sorry T-T-Tammy," Gadget stuttered. "I j-just got the wrong v-v-voltage on the b-battery."

The squirrel medic cast her eyes heavenward.

"You know, when you have a kid, I hope she's just like you. Then you'll see what we put up with!"

Gadget gave a slight smirk, and reached around behind Tammy, bringing her fingers together onto her friend's tail. The remaining static in her body popped audibly, and Tammy jumped into the air.

"Oww! Why you…just wait till I get down off this branch…"

Gadget laughed, glad she had learned this trick from Dale some time back. She ducked under the wing of the new plane, and began making adjustments to the glue cannons that she had mounted there. On the wing, the name "SCREAMING EAGLE II" was proudly emblazoned.

Chip walked out onto the hangar branch, a handful of plans and blueprints in his fist.

"Gadget, we need the benefit of your expertise in here for a few minutes."

When she had finished her technical task, Gadget went right to the kitchen, where the other Rangers were meeting. Chip pointed to the maps spread out on the table.
"Where do you think he'll hit?"

She appraised the maps for a few seconds.

"Here," she said, indicating a department store building. "There's two blind alleys and a high fire escape. If he's planning anything, he'll use a place with cover like that."
"But seein' as how he thinks we're dead," Monty put in, "oi'd say we've got the advantage, wouldn't you, mates?"
"Looks that way," Sparky replied. "But he knows the rest of us are still here. Might be better if we lay low for a bit, and be on call when you guys need us."

"True enough," Gadget admitted. "We'll have to move in incognito."

"Oh boy, like my spy game?" Dale asked.

"Like your spy game," Chip answered, and grinned. "Which means somebody has to get her red dress out again."

Gadget paled.

"Ohhh no. I swore that thing off at the end of the last case it came out on. There's no way you're getting this mouse into a gangster moll outfit again."

"Even if it means stopping Fat Cat and saving who knows how many human lives?"

Gadget shot her husband a black look.

"That's blackmail, dear. And unfortunately, its working."

Later that evening, the Rangers prepared to march out. All three planes, now in good working order, were loaded with full armaments of plungers, glue and harpoons, and were charged and ready to fly. Chip and Dale walked out onto the runway in their disguises, namely pinstriped, gangster suits. Monterey Jack was looking like a huge street tough with his derby and eye patch.

"Where's Gadget?" Chip asked. "We need to get going soon."
"I won't do it!"

"Sounds like Tammy's havin' some trouble with 'er," Monty chuckled. Tammy walked out of the hanger, gripping an arm securely in her grasp. But the arm was all that got past the door.

"Come on, Gadget! We're going to miss Fat Cat's gang!"
"I don't care, I'm not going!"

Tammy grunted against the arm that was playing tug of war with her.

"You're going if I have to come in there and carry you out piggyback. Now march!"

Gadget stepped out into the light, and both Chip and Dale whistled appreciatively. Chip decided not to crack Dale over the head for whistling, in this case. Her sleeveless red dress stopped just above her ankles, with generous slits traversing both sides of the skirt. The neckline plunged at a tasteful angle. Red heels raised her height nearly a quarter inch. Her hair was done differently, with the bangs slightly teased to one side, and blue shadow made her eyes seem to burn with intensity. A touch of ruby lipstick finished the ensemble.

"Wow," was all Chip could say. "Even better than I remember it."

"You're just begging for a night on the couch," she muttered. He raised his hands in a peacemaking gesture.

"Okay, okay! Geez louise, sweetheart, it was just a compliment."
"I'd take it as such, if this was actually me. I feel like some kind of showgirl."

"Believe me, Gadge, I wouldn't do this to you if it was necessary. I promise never to do it again, Maplewood's honor."

"Until the next case, at least," she hypothesized sourly.

"Now now, kids," Monty interrupted. "This 'ere's no time for your first fight."

"Monty's right," Gadget sighed. "We need to get going. Tammy, you and Zipper take the Rangerwing to the north end of downtown, and watch for anything suspicious. Sparky, Monterey and Dale, you take the Rangerplane and go to the south end, same mission. Chip and I will take the Eagle right to the middle, and stay in contact by radio. Everybody got their assignments?"

'Yes ma'am!' Zipper buzzed.

"Good. And if I hear one comment or catcall about this dress, nobody's going to have anything to be happy about when we get home. Trust me!"

All of the Rangers saluted smartly, recognizing Gadget was in her 'no-nonsense' mode. They'd all seen it a number of times, the most recent being Rat Capone's underwater palace scheme, when Gadget had cheerfully offered to give him 'a swift kick in the poop deck.'

The roar of propellers grew to an ear-numbing din as the Rangerwing and the Screaming Eagle hovered into the air, with the whirring of the Rangerplane's wings in the background.

"Rescue Rangers away!"

In the downtown streets, there was an infectious, festive spirit that spread through the crowds of people that milled on the sidewalks. Citizens lined the streets, their coats and scarves pulled tight against the chill air. Likewise, at the edges of the sidewalks, denizens of the smaller world stood lined up, waiting for a glimpse of a Christmas tradition in the city. The carolers came through every year, stopping periodically to sing songs of the season to those who braved the elements to hear.

It was into this atmosphere that a chipmunk and a mouse walked, looking for all the world like they were on their way to a dinner party. A high class one, at that. Chip and Gadget walked arm in arm among the various mice and other creatures that stood listening to the music.

"It's really a nice night," Chip noticed, getting somewhat lost in the feeling. Gadget tugged sharply at his arm.

"Stay focused, Chip. We have to keep our eyes open for Fat Cat," she said, snuggling into the woolen stole around her shoulders.

"I know, I know. It stinks being the leader sometimes, you know that? It'd be nice to be a goof-off like Dale once in a while."

"I know, but then you wouldn't be my husband. And I love you just like you are."

"Thanks, Gadge. Hey up, what's this?"
Chip pulled Gadget behind a lamppost as two of Fat Cat's minions stepped out of a nearby alley. Mole and Snout wandered nonchalantly into the crowd, stepping unnoticed between the feet of human after human. It took Chip a few seconds to realize what they were doing.

"Holy guacamole…they're robbing the humans!"

Sure enough, with the people's attention on the festivities, they never noticed as more henchrats and other creatures spilled out of the alleys, and began to carefully lift away purses, wallets, watches, and any other valuables.

"If all of these humans lose their valuables at this event…it's going to be very hard for the city to get them to come back next year," Gadget realized.

"Plus it sates Fat Cat's greed in the process," Chip replied, boiling.

"Speak of the devil," she whispered softly. Fat Cat walked out of the first alley, followed by Mepps and Wart.

"Stay close," Chip cautioned. "I hope he doesn't recognize us."

"He won't recognize me, at least. I wouldn't recognize myself, if you want to get honest."

She appeared to be conflicted over something, and then made up her mind.

"I'm going in for a closer look."
"What!"

"If he asks me, I'm Rat Capone's ex-moll. Not too far from the truth, seeing as how he did proposition me."

"And if I remember correctly, you threatened significant bodily harm on his person."
"That's beside the point. I don't want to do it, but we've got to find out what his next move is!"

Chip sighed.

"All right, but be careful. Very careful."
She gave him a quick kiss and then was off through the crowd.

"What a woman," Chip muttered to himself as he turned his attention back to the crowd.

Fat Cat was enjoying himself immensely. His henchmen were working the crowd masterfully. With any luck, there wouldn't be a wallet left among the humans within the hour.

"Lots of luck they'll have publicizing this silly tradition next year," he purred in satisfaction. Something suddenly bumped into his side, and he looked down. A catcall escaped his whiskers as only a cat can make one. The tall, shapely mouse that had brushed past him was a heart-stopper, that was for sure. The dress she sported could stop traffic for three blocks.

"Pardon me, madam," Fat Cat said, bowing as gallantly as possible. The striking mouse looked up at him, snapping a wad of chewing gum loudly.

"Yeah, whadda ya want, hairball?"

Moll, Fat Cat immediately categorized. There was no mistaking the mentality.

"Oh, nothing my dear," the crimelord said smoothly. "It had just come to my notice that such an attractive young thing as yourself was walking these streets without an escort. It just isn't safe, you know."

"Yeah, well I can take care of myself pretty good, see. Ya don't hang around Capone for long without findin' that out."

"Ah, yes. Ratty does have that certain…abrasive behavioral problem."

She eyed him intently, cause him to shift with a bit of unease. Even Fat Cat knew when he was being sized up.

"You'se must be that pussycat what lives over the Happy Tom cannery."

"At one time, yes. Fat Cat, lord of crime, at your service, mademoiselle."

She smiled, a slight, sensual twitching at the corners of her mouth that could make cat or rat weak at the knees.

"You'se don't look like the type to be out just enjoyin' the festivities, Furry. Kinda a public place to be wheelin' and dealin', I'd think."

The cat's respect went up a notch. Very astute, this one.

"Well, you could say that I'm just an…observer."
"Observin' those guys pickin' pockets for ya?"

She laughed at his expression.

"It's not like I ain't seen it before, handsome. We all get in the humans' pockets one way or another."

"Yes, well, a caper is in the works, if that's what you mean," Fat Cat said, straightening his tie. A moll with a degree in deductive reasoning? It didn't make sense. How could Capone have let such a jewel get away from him?

"You'll pardon my asking," he said warily, "but just what brings you to the festivities?"

She flipped her hair back and pulled a compact from her purse, checking her appearance daintily.

"I been lookin' for a new setup, see. Somethin' with a little more…class."

"Ah, I see. Looking to latch onto a new boss, in other words."

"You'se could say that. I'm a pretty resourceful girl to have around."
"And what's your name, lovely one?"
"My handle's Desiree McClure, but in the joint they called me Pretty Poison."

"For a reason, I assume."
"You said it, pal, not me."

"Well, Poison my dear, I would suggest that you let me walk you home. Things around here are about to start…jumping."

He motioned upward. Sitting atop a power line post, Mepps had a pair of rubber insulators over his paws, and was holding a pair of wire cutters out over the line. When cut, the line would fall directly into the crowd, many of whom were standing right in the middle of huge puddles of melted snow.

"Jumpin' is right, cat," she said, with a look that he mistook for diabolical interest. She took out her compact again, seeming to check her makeup.

At the other end of the street, Sparky, Monty, and Dale saw the compact mirror flashing under the streetlight.

"Croikey, she's signallin' us! You blokes see anything?"
Raising a pair of Gadget's binoculars to his eyes, Sparky searched the street. He made a choking sound.

"There's a cat getting ready to cut the power lines down onto the street!"

"Good thing we didn't leave the plane far away, mates. Pile on, quick!"

Everyone had barely had time to get into the Rangerplane's seats before Monty had it winging into the sky. Pushing for all the speed he was able, he sent it rushing toward the impending disaster.

Fat Cat raised his paw, letting Mepps know it was time. Grinning, the harebrained henchcat started to cut the wires.

"Not so fast there, mate!"
The Rangerplane slammed into him, knocking the addled kitty down to street level and into a dumpster. Fat Cat growled in frustration.

"The new recruits. These Rescue Rodents just won't die! Come, my dear, we must away from all of this activity before the alarm is raised."

Chip ran down the street, toward where he had seen Fat Cat start to move away. Blocked by crowds of screaming mice and other creatures, he saw the gangster climb onto the bumper of a taxi. Beside him sat a familiar, red-skirted figure.

What is Gadget doing! his mind screamed. Sudden realization hit him.

She's going under cover.

"Chip!" Tammy yelled, running up with Zipper. "Where's Gadget? We saw her talking to Fat Cat, and then…"
"She's gone with him," Chip said quietly. "I always knew Gadget was one to make decisions at the oddest times…and this is definitely one of the oddest. She must be trying to infiltrate his plans."

"Here's hoping good luck for her," Tammy replied. "We'd better get back to headquarters. The humans will find their valuables in a bit, those henchmen dropped everything when Fat Cat ran. Let's hope our valuable contacts us before she's found out."