Chapter VII: To The Rescue

"Rotor calibration?"
"Check."

"Oscillator gearing?"
"Check."

"Overdrive acceleration modulator?"
"Check."

Tammy and Sparky had been at this routine for half an hour, checking and rechecking the Ranger's vehicular components. Nothing could go wrong with this search and rescue attempt. They couldn't afford for it to happen.

Inside, Chip and Monterey Jack studied maps they had procured of the waterfront districts, committing to memory every small detail which might prove valuable. Fat Cat was one of the most unpredictable criminals known when it came to his treatment of prisoners, and none of them, especially Chip, wanted Gadget back in more than one piece.

"We'll take the search in opposing quadrants," Chip said, "You and I coming in from the west, and Tammy and Sparky coming in from the east. Dale and Zipper will take the Rangermobile and be on lookout, ready to radio us if they spot anything. All right, let's get cracking. I would say 'Rescue Rangers away', but it's just not the same when one's missing."

"We'll get 'er back, mate," Monty said with confidence. "Besides, even with Fat Cat, what trouble could our Gadget get into?"

After a moment's thought, the group spoke as a whole.

"Big trouble!"

A few minutes later, on the branch-runway, the two aircraft were idling smoothly. Chip looked at them in surprise.

"What'd you do, Tammy? They're quiet!"

"Oh not much, Chipper," she said. "I just installed something Gadget had been working on, and tuned it up a little. It's a sound wave dampener. The engines won't have that annoying buzz to 'em now!"

"Good, because the way the Rangerwing runs, Fat Cat could hear it coming a mile away."

"Don't let your wife hear you say that. That plane's her pride and joy, y'know."

"Oh trust me, I'm learning! Everyone pile in, we've got work to do!"

"Hey Chip! Which Rangermobile do we take?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Well, after she fixed the Rangerwing, Gadget finished the new one. I just wondered if we should take it."
Chip thought a minute.

"Well, it's probably more advanced than the old one. Better take it."
"Oh boy, I get to drive!"
Zipper buzzed in alarm as he flew after Dale's receding figure.

"You might not ought to have done that," Sparky muttered.

"Why not?"
"Because the new Rangermobile is a 'real' car."
"What!"

At that moment, a muffled roar reached their ears. From the subterranean garage beneath the tree, a black blur shot out.
"Wow," was the word on every Ranger's lips.

The Rangerbolt, as Gadget had named it, was painted a dark, gleaming black. She'd changed her mind several times while building the mechanical parts, and had finally opted not to go with the standard electrical motor. Salvaging something she'd been saving for a long time, she had built in a real, gasoline powered eight cylinder engine, which was in around 1:25 scale. Atop the Hemi chambers sat Gadget's own carburetor design, six barrels of power intake, with a turbocharger fitted farther down the side. On the car's doors, a conjoined RR was painted, split by an electric blue lightning bolt. Gadget had even paid attention to every cosmetic detail this time, all the way down to the grille, where a small nameplate proudly proclaimed, "Charger R/T".

Chip glanced nervously back at Sparky.

"Great. What a time for Gadget to enter second childhood. Sparky, you get down there and send Zipper back up to go with Tammy. Last thing we need is a Sunday driver losing his head. "

With a grin on his face, Sparky started down.

"Isn't it great what a genius can build in a day?"

At Fat Cat's new casino, Gadget was getting desperate. She could find no way to break out of the cell. Every possible escape route had been thought of. The only way out was to pick the cell lock, and her last attempt at that had been a disaster, due to the booby trap.

"If I just had something to insulate myself with," she mused. Then, a thought struck her.
"Waitaminit, my purse!"
Being unaccustomed to purses and some other female carry-on items, Gadget hadn't thought of this one until now. And knowing her reputation, Fat Cat hadn't thought enough to notice the small, clip-top pouch.

"Let's see…compact, foundation, eye shadow…lipstick!"

She looked for the small label on the bottom, and started reading.

"All right, if there's just…yes! A polymer base!"

Uncapping the tube, she grabbed her tail and liberally doused the end of it in the red, gummy substance. In just a few seconds, she had worn the end of the lipstick down, and turned the lower half of her tail red, completely coated.

"Okay, now we see if this works."

Dropping back to all fours, she eased her tail into the lock again. It was a little stiffer after the last jolt of electricity, but with a little work she got through it. In a few minutes, the last tumbler was ready to open again. Now would be the test.

Gadget felt a buzzing sensation as the electricity turned on…but the numbing shock didn't come. She probed into the final tumbler, searching, and searching…

Click.

"Bingo," she grinned.

As she pulled her tail out of the mechanism, the door swung open. Removing her heels, Gadget sprinted out of the cell, and took in her new surroundings.

"Next step, warn the guys," she thought out loud.

Down the city streets, the Rangerbolt was tearing up asphalt. Dale was sitting in the passenger seat, sulking because Sparky had insisted on driving.

"Oh come on Dale, be a sport!" Sparky said. "After all, you're no test pilot."
"And you are?"
"Well, I can hold my own, I think. I ran the maze a bit after hours when Buzz was off the clock, you know."

The radio buzzed, and Sparky picked up the transmitter.

"Go ahead, fellows."

"Sparky, you and Dale position yourselves at the stoplight at Pier Twelve. That'll give you a pretty good shot to take off if we need you. Keep your eyes and ears open."

"Roger, Chip. Over and out."

"Isn't that supposed to be ten-four good buddy?" Dale asked. At Sparky's expression, the chipmunk sank down into his seat, whistling and looking out the window.

In the air, Chip was worried.

"I would have thought she'd find some way to contact us by now."

"She would if she could, Chippah. As it is, she's probably been found out and locked up."

"I hope that's all."

Meanwhile, within Fat Cat's hideout, Gadget was going about that very task. Within the small room outside her cell, she salvaged everything she could possibly use to manufacture a signal of some type. So far, she wasn't having any success.

"Golly, if I could just get a little sliver of wire, I could finish this transmitter."

Suddenly, she had a thought.

"Of course!"
Reaching up to her ears, she took off the pair of imitation earrings which had been part of her disguise. Prying loose the wire backs, she twisted them together, and fitted the metal into the small device she'd been working on. A hum and a crackle issued forth from it, and then static.

"Now to find the Rangers' frequency."

She put her ear to the box, and twisted the small tuning knob multiple times, letting her keen hearing search for the familiar level of static that she knew was on the radio frequency they used. It only took her a couple of minutes to find.
"That's got to be it. Chip, Monty, Dale, anybody, come in!"

"Come in!"
In the Screaming Eagle, Chip snapped to attention as the transmission crackled through. He grabbed for the microphone.

"Gadget! Where are you? Can you hear me?"
"Barely. I'm in the old oyster bar at Pier Twelve, where we met Cheddarhead Charlie the first time. Fat Cat's set up business here, casino and all. Chip-he's planning on using the Rockefeller tree to take out the doors at the Gold Reserve. He's picking up where Klordane left off!"

"Not if we can help it, Gadge! Are you free?"
"Yes, but I don't know for how long. Wart and Snout make rounds about every forty-five minyahhhhhhh!"

"Gadget? Gadget! Come in!"

"Well, my dear," Fat Cat growled angrily as he smashed Gadget's transmitter. "You've managed to throw a kink into my plans once again. But you have managed to lure your friends here. And once I've taken care of them, then I'll take care of you. And believe me, I will see that you die very, very slowly."

"You might take us out, Fat Cat, but there'll be others to take our place."

"Oh? More of your junior leagues? I'm frightened stiff."

He picked her up in one paw, and started toward the back of the hideout.

"You see, madam, back here is where I conduct my business. And where I conduct my business, I tend to have a need for added…security."
He held her out over a square hole in the floor. Below, Gadget cringed as she could see a fish tank. Snapping and sparking inside it was an electric eel. The serpent stared upward, a hungry look in it's reptilian eyes.

"My little pet hasn't been fed in several days, you see. He has been looking forward to some…how did I once put it…Ranger pate."

She struggled against his grip, trying to think logically and technically, but her emotions won out over her brain.

"Heelpppp!"

Outside, the shrill scream reached a set of waiting ears. Sparky looked over at Dale.

"Did that sound familiar to you?"
"You know it did. Hit it!"

With a cough and then a roar, the Rangerbolt's eight cylinders caught and fired, propelling it toward the underworld boss's lair with a screech of burned rubber.

"Hang on, Dale. This may get a little rough."
Sparky skidded the car onto the beach, the back wheels throwing up great gouts of sand as it bounced across the dunes.

"Chip!" Dale yelled. "Somethin's happenin' to Gadget! We're headin' in!"

"Roger wilco! Get her out and then make way for the air support!"

"There's the entrance!" Sparky yelled.

"Step on it!" Dale said. "Those guards'll move when they see this hunk of metal comin'!"
True to Dale's words, Mepps and Mole scrambled for cover when the Rangerbolt came charging out of the dunes. With engine roaring like an attacking tiger, the small car leaped the last sand hill, crashing through the door and into Fat Cat's establishment.

"What in the world…" Fat Cat turned to the door of his office, Gadget still in his hand. He picked the wrong moment to turn around.

The Rangerbolt splintered the lower half of the door, knocking Fat Cat off of his feet and into the eel tank. The sounds of sparking electricity and feline swearing drifted up through the cavity in the floor. As the evil gangster had fallen, he'd released his grip on Gadget, and she went flying up into the air with a terrified shriek.

"We're comin' Gadget!" Dale yelled as the 'Bolt's rear tires ground against the floor. Screeching to a halt, Dale climbed up through the window, and neatly caught the mouse inventor in his arms.

"Golly, thanks Dale!"

"Don't mention it! Now let's get outta here before Fathead gets out of there!"

"I'm with you," she replied shakily. Sparky stepped on the accelerator and sent the car flying back out of the building, digging up sand and seaweed all the way.

Back in the air, Chip was relieved beyond words to hear that his wife had been rescued.

"But we still have to find all the loot Fat Cat stole."

"Oi think we did, Chippah," Monty said, pointing downward. Underneath the dock was a canvas wrapped package that seemed to run the entire length of the pier.

"The tree!"

"Too roight. The police probably couldn't see it from the ground."

"And I'm willing to bet that the haul from the toy stores is hidden with it. But how do we attract the police's attention?"

Monterey looked out the windshield, and grimace.

"Oi think it's their attention we've gotta worry about roight now, mate!"

Dead ahead of them, the stolen moving company helicopter bore down like an avalanche. A horde of cats grinned out through it's portals. Chip grabbed the control yoke and spun the 'Wing away, the helicopter chasing right on it's heels.

"Back off, Chipper!" the radio crackled. "This one's mine!"

The Screaming Eagle dove from above, the cannons at it's wingtips spitting glue projectiles at full force. The ball-like bundles exploded against the helicopter's rotors, draining down into the mechanism. Tammy buzzed around the upper prop, shooting with as much accuracy as she could while maintaining her flight path.

"Come on, fall, you big hulking hunk of junk!" she ground out, strafing the blades again. Suddenly, there was a muffled explosion, and smoke began to pour from the bigger vehicle's motors. The helicopter slowly fell, picking up speed, and finally giving a sonic boom-like crash as it hit the water.

Down below, Muldoon and Kirby were on harbor patrol, easing their squad car along the docks.

"Man, nothin' ever happens on this beat," Kirby complained. "I think Spinelli just stuck us out here for losin' that tree on our watch."

The two cops sat up straight as the sound of a huge crash penetrated inside the car.

"You was sayin'?" Muldoon asked, hitting the siren. As the police car approached the beach, both officers stared at the sight. Sitting in the water was the wreckage of the helicopter that had been stolen weeks earlier. They got out of the car, and walked to the waterline, staring at the cats who swam around the destroyed machine.

"You ever notice how when anything happens in this city, there's always alley cats around?" Kirby asked.

Muldoon nodded, and then a huge grin split his face.

"Hey partner, look over there."

As they eyed the huge, dock-length canvas underneath the pier, Kirby caught on. The two city's finest wasted no time in running to the underside of the dock, and peeling back the covering.

"I knew it!" Muldoon yelled, "and lookit this! The take from those two toy store robberies, I'd guarantee it!"

Farther up the beach, the Rescue Rangers welcomed their rescued comrade back with a group hug. Then they backed off to let she and the team's leader have their own moment.

"You all right?" Chip asked, concerned.

"Oh I'm fine, no worse for wear than usual."

He looked down.

"Is your tail bleeding?"

"Oh no," she laughed. "That's the stuff I had to use to get out of my cell."

They looked at each other for a moment, and then Chip grabbed Gadget, and kissed her like it had been years since their last meeting.

"Golly," she said, breathlessly.

"That makes two of us," he chuckled. "Don't ever run off on me like that again."

"I'll do my best…till the next case," she teased.

The rest of the group laughed at the antics of these two, while more police cars arrived at the scene, and began salvaging the city's traditions.