Chapter II: Tennessee Rally

The day passed uneventfully for the Rangers, as they were all busy at their respective tasks. Chip had finally woken Gadget around noon, receiving a thorough reprimand for letting her sleep so long.

"I'm a Hackwrench, Chip, I can get by without sleep when I have to. I've done it before."
"Gadget, remember what happened to Dale, the last time he went out on a case without a night's sleep?"

She thought for a minute, and turned slightly green.

"Come to think of it, maybe a nap wasn't such a bad idea after all."

"You know it," he said, his tone a little lighter. "Did you finish up the Rangerbolt?"
"Oh, yeah I did. But I'm not going to show it to you till Tammy and I rendezvous with the rest of you at the races. It's a surprise!"
"I can hardly wait," he replied, a little nervously.

"Oh, don't be a spoilsport, Chip," she said. "You'll like it, I think. Really fits in with the locale that we'll be operating out of."

He put his arms around her, and drew her in close.

"You going to be okay, driving down by yourself?"
"Of course I will. And I won't be alone, I'll have Tammy with me. You know we have to do it this way, for the ruse to work."

"I know. It's just that, with us having so much casework lately, and the way I snapped at you last night…I just hate to be away from you for long."
"You're really sappy when you want to be, you know that, mister? But I love it about you. Besides, my bags are packed, the Rangerbolt is loaded, and we've still got a couple of hours before we leave. So let's make the best of them, shall we?"

"I'm for that."
Chip reached over, and flicked on a small radio set that Gadget had built. It was tuned to a classical music station, and she snuggled against him as Mozart flowed from the speaker. They were still in that position when Tammy and Reguba came looking for them, several hours later.

"Okay, have you guys got all the standard equipment packed? Harpoon guns, grapples, you know?"

"We've got everything, Gadget luv," Monty replied. "Don't worry your pretty head."

All of the Rangers were standing assembled on the hangar branch, doing final checks. Chip climbed into the Rangerwing's cockpit, and started the engines, letting them idle and warm up. Gadget climbed up to stand on the wing, and kissed him.

"We'll meet you at the track's registration booth. Rob will show you where it is. Be careful, Chip. The overdrive's been acting a little finicky, I haven't had time to check it out."

"We'll watch it. I'm sure we can get there fast enough without it."

"I know, but I always like to have a contingency plan, you know? Still, if you don't push it, it should work with…"
"Don't say it!" Tammy yelled, covering her ears.

Gadget looked puzzled, and then realized.

"Sorry about that," she giggled. "Okay, guys, off you go. I've got a couple of things to take care of yet. Martha's going to keep Mariel for a few days, so we should be fine. See you in the south!"

With a rumble and the whir of rotor blades, the Rangerwing rose into the air, followed by the Screaming Eagle. Both craft sped away from the tree at top speed, leaving Gadget and Tammy standing in front of the hangar, watching. The young squirrel looked at her friend, and smiled.

"Well, girlfriend, shall we go an' git kitted out?"

Gadget shook her head.

"Best leave the talking to me, Tam. You still need a lot of practice."

"Gee, thanks."

A few minutes later, with their last minute additions to their luggage loaded, Tammy and Gadget walked downstairs to the garage. At the sight of the Rangerbolt, Tammy drew up short.

"Oh, my God. I don't believe you actually did it."

Gadget grinned widely.
"What can I say? The General never looked so good."

"I can't believe I'm actually doing this," Tammy muttered. "Oh well, when in Rome."
With that, she grasped the top edge of the window frame, lifted her feet, and slid into the car.

"Done like a pro," Gadget said, sliding into the driver's side. "It's just as well. I had to weld the doors, to keep up appearances."
"Terrific."

"Don't sound so glum, Tammy. I know you're going to enjoy this every bit as much as I am, in spite of being on a case. Now remember, we have to be in character when we get there. Think Thelma and Louise."

"Didn't they die at the end of that movie?"
Gadget thought for a moment.
"Well…okay, point conceded. But you know what I mean."

"I think so. As they say on TV, hit it, cousin!"

Gadget turned the key, and the Rangerbolt came to life with a throaty rumble, all eight cylinders thrumming in a time that was almost musical to a mechanic. Gadget could never suppress a childish urge to spin the back tires whenever she sat behind the wheel. She shifted down, and stepped on the accelerator, sending them careening out into the park, and toward their case.

Later on in the day, Gadget was beginning to wish that they'd strapped the car underneath one of the planes, and flown. They'd get there a lot faster. Tammy was staring out the passenger window, tapping her foot to the sound of Alan Jackson coming from the radio.

"I didn't know you liked country music, Tam."
"Neither did I. But this guy's pretty good, I think."

"I know, I saw him in person once."
"Really?"

"Yeah. It was that summer that Dad and I spent in Georgia. I slipped off to an outdoor concert, and he was in it. I sat on his guitar amplifier and listened the entire time. I know he saw me, but he just smiled and kept on playing. Who knows, maybe he's a speaker."

"Maybe."
Such idle chat was sidelined as Gadget's keen eyes picked up a solution to their current problem.

"Hey, do you see that?" she asked.

"I do believe I do," Tammy said, pointing at a transfer truck that had a side label reading: 'Newport, Tennessee'.

"Shall we board, Thelma?"
"Yes, let's, Louise."

As the truck's driver walked away to pick up his bill of lading, Gadget motored smoothly up the loading ramp, and tucked the Rangerbolt neatly behind a stack of crates. She killed the engine, and reclined the seat, propping her feet on the dash.
"Wake me when we get there," she yawned, pulling her goggles down.

Some hours later, the two Rangers were jolted from slumber as the big truck groaned to a stop. Gadget blinked, trying to clear the sleep from her eyes.

"Wha? Where are we?"
"I'll check," Tammy volunteered, climbing out of the car, and scurrying up a pile of packing crates. Peeking out a small light cover, she saw that they had pulled into a truckstop. A sign on the nearby interstate proudly proclaimed,

'Tennessee Welcomes You.'

She dove back down the crates, and into the Rangerbolt.

"I think this is our stop. Time to get off the bus."
"Roger wilco."
Gadget cranked the motor, and rolled slowly to the rear doors. A good nudge from the ram bars on the grill was enough to open the door catch, as it hadn't been closed properly.

"Well, this is all well and good," Tammy said. "But how do we get down?"

"I haven't gotten that far yet."
"Wonderful."
Suddenly, there was a loud crash as the loading ramp slid out of it's recessed bay, and struck the ground. Gadget gestured toward the long strip of metal, and recited the words her father had taught her as a child.

"Seek and ye shall find, ask and it shall be given unto you."

"Amen."
The brightly colored stock car rolled easily to the ground, and the driver floored it, wanting to put as much distance between them and the truck as possible, before the owner returned.

"How far into Newport is the racetrack?" Gadget asked. Tammy consulted a road map, and looked ahead.

"If we're where I think we are, then the track should be around three miles from here. That way."
"Good. This gives us a chance to stop and change."

"Change?"
"Into the…well, costumes that we brought."
Tammy looked down at the pink shirt and rolled up jeans she was wearing.

"What's wrong with my clothes?"

"Nothing! It's just that, well, we'll be expected to have a certain appearance."
"We have to look like babes, in other words."
"You said it, not me."

The squirrel sighed.
"Okay. According to this Tennessee map, there's a little mouse Mom and Pop filling station just around this next corner. There'll probably be a couple of bathrooms there where we can affect our transformation."
"Affect our transformation? Why Tammy, you're starting to sound all grown up!"
"What, you expected me to be a kid forever?"

A few minutes later, they rolled into the small fuel stop, and Gadget stopped at the miniature above ground tanks.

"Fill 'er up," she said to the attendant, who was staring open-mouthed at the Rangerbolt. The teenaged mouse rubbed his eyes, and looked again.

"Wow, I didn't know that Duke cousins came in our size!"
"Cute. Our fuel, please?"

As she climbed out, she discovered that his gaze had shifted from the car to her, and a low whistle escaped unbidden from his lips. Smiling demurely, she leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"I'm married. So keep your eyes on your work."

"Oh! Um…sorry 'bout that, ma'am," he said, a red flush rising all the way to his ears.

"It's okay. I remember what a teenager's hormones are like."

Walking into the small store, she and Tammy were greeted by an elderly field mouse, who was running the counter. Several other teenagers were sitting around, sipping at sodas, and taking turns staring out at the small Charger which sat at the pumps.
"Man, are those American Vectors it's got?"
"Shoot, what else you think'd be on a Dodge, knucklehead!"

"Bet it cain't beat that buggy that 'ol Billy Moss lost over to the track."
"Achally, we're the new entry for Billy," Gadget supplied, allowing her tongue to roll into the practiced accent. Putting her weight on one leg, she leaned back against the counter, in the pose that she'd observed other southern girls use. "Name's Cooper. Thelma Cooper. An' that's my relief driver, Louise Benson. We call her Thunder around th' garage, though."
"Why's that?" a young squirrel asked, sizing Tammy up. Gadget grinned.

"Cause if you step outta line, she can tap-dance up a storm on your head, plowboy. Now where's the facilities, if ya don't mind?"

"T-t-t-to the l-left of th' cooler," he stammered in reply. She smiled sweetly, and picked up her travel bag.

"Wasn't that laying it on a bit thick?" Tammy asked, as they closed the restroom door behind them.
"Maybe, but I've found that if you start building a reputation early, it can help you later on. Now hurry up, the guys are there waiting, I know."

At the Newport Small Animal Rally Track, Chip and the other Rangers had arrived at the registration booth, and were filling out forms for Team Moss's vehicular and crew changes. Rob was doing most of the conversation, as his friends were still practicing their drawls. Nobody had it perfect yet.

"Thanks fer expeditin' th' papers, Florence," he said, taking a sheaf of forms from a short gopher, who was sitting behind the desk.

"No problem, sweety. You know I always pull fer Billy's team. But where's yer entry?"
"It oughta be along anytime now," he said. Just as he got the words out, shouts and exclamations could be heard from the trail that led into the track camp.

"That's probly them now. Let's head over, fellas."

At the car display area, there was considerable commotion. Drivers and crew alike whistled and marveled. Rolling slowly, General Lee made it's way to Team Moss's pit stall. As the loudly rumbling engine was silenced, the drivers made themselves known.

From the driver's side, a beautiful blonde mouse pulled herself up and through the window. Her low-heeled boots hit the dirt with a thud, and she appraised the other drivers with a well-trained eye. Dressed in a shirt that was tied at the midriff, and a pair of cutoff jeans, she drew every stare present. Her companion, a striking squirrel, sauntered to the front of the car, sporting a short denim jacket and a well-worn pair of hip-hugger Levi's.

Tammy cut her eyes in Gadget's direction, and spoke quietly through her teeth.
"My friend, if we live through this fiasco, I am going to kill you. And believe me, I'll enjoy it."

"Hush," the inventor whispered. "We're on."

Walking over to where their friends were standing, the two smiled at them, greeting them with hugs and syrupy welcomes.

"Heya hon, what kept ya'll?" Gadget asked Chip, batting her lashes. Monty struggled to keep from laughing, imagining he could see the steam leaking from under the chipmunk's fedora at the vision he was presented with. Reguba wasn't having much better luck as Tammy curled her tail around him, drawing him into a kiss. The Redwall warrior looked like his eyes were about to fall out of his head.

"When you said disguises, you weren't kidding," Chip whispered. "I think I kinda like this side of you."
"Don't get used to it," Gadget replied, lowly. "I feel like an idiot."

"Well whatever you feel like, you look like a poster girl for Nashville. That's gonna go a long way around here."

"Ya'll better believe it," Rob put in. "These 'ol boys loosen their tongues a lot easier fer a pretty face. Ya probly won't have much trouble getting 'em to talk about their accidents."

"Good. While you guys look for clues, Tammy and I will get the Rangerbolt ready for the qualifying heat this evening. We'll talk to the other drivers afterward. Meet us back at Team Moss's pit area around ten tonight."

"Will do, luv," Monty said. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Tammy grumbled, noticing several squirrel drivers staring in her direction. "We're gonna need it."