Chapter III: Sabotage!

"Okay, Tam! Give me full throttle, so I can check the fuel mixture!"
Just below Gadget's nose, the fanbelt and several other parts howled as Tammy held the gas pedal to the floor. Making a quick adjustment at the carburetor, she raised up and closed the hood.

"That's as good as it can get. Everything's tuned as closely as I can manage."
Tammy made a quick slashing motion across her throat, and Gadget noticed a gerbil walking toward them. Nodding, she hopped up onto the fender.

"Howdy," the newcomer said, his eyes roaming over the Rangerbolt and it's occupants. "Ya'll must be them new drivers Moss brung in."

"Might be," Gadget drawled, fiddling with a socket wrench. "Whatcha need, stranger?"
"Ain't no stranger," he replied. "Name's Jeremiah Jackson. Jist wanted ta warn you ladies 'bout this here race. I'd git out of it, if I was you."

"Well, we ain't exactly shrinkin' violets, Mr. Jackson. You wouldn't be threatnin' us, wouldja?"

"I didn't say nothin'. You just mind what I tole you."

He sauntered off into the dusk, disappearing into the shuffle of vehicles and drivers. Tammy stuck her head out the window.

"Well, what do you make of that?"

"I don't know. I got the feeling he was genuinely trying to warn us."

Gadget suddenly cocked her head to the side, listening.
"Do you hear that?"
"What, there's nothing but engines for two miles."

"Maybe it was nothing."
She jumped up into the window, sliding into the driver's seat. The orange car trundled off toward the starting line, without it's operators ever noticing the pool of liquid it had left behind.

"Ladies and gentlemen, start your engines!"
The track erupted into a roar as motors revved to their highest RPM levels. Over a dozen drivers slipped down their helmet visors, teeth clenched, jaws set, hands gripping steering wheels in determination.

"Remember, Gadget," Tammy reminded, "we're here to investigate. We don't have to come in first."
"What are you talking about? Dad always said, if you're in a contest, play to win!"

"I was afraid you'd say that."

The young mouse at the center of the track held the checkered and green flags up into the air, and then, with a flourish, she dropped them in a unmistakable signal.

All of the drivers, upon seeing that signal, sent their vehicles rocketing down the track, leaving clouds of dust and dirt flying in their wake. When the uproar died down, and the air cleared, they were rounding the first bend, with the Rangerbolt charging into the lead.

"And the General Lee is flyin'!" the announcer stated excitedly. "Team Moss's new entry is takin' the track by storm!"

At the front of the pack, goggles down and hair streaming back in the wind from the open windows, Gadget Maplewood was having the time of her life. Surprisingly, so was Tammy. The rear end of the car slid to the side as they passed the first lap marker, making a sharp turn.

"Gadget, look out!" Tammy cried, pointing. A boxy vehicle had pulled up beside them, it's driver grinning viciously. With a twist of his wheel, he sent his car dashing sideways, smashing into the Rangerbolt's fender. The inventor clung onto control, pulling them back into a straight line.

"So, they wanna play rough, do they?"
Shifting down, she floored it, the big 440 V-8 screaming it's defiance from under the hood. The offending driver was laughing, sure he'd gotten the victorious spot for this round. Looking in his rear view mirror, the laughter died in his throat.

WHAM!

The Rangerbolt's ram bars slammed against the rear of his stock car, sending him spinning in a circle as the two Rangers sped by in a blur of orange paint.

"Are we going to have to do bodywork after every race?" Tammy asked.

"If they drive this way all the time, it looks like it."

As they rounded the final bend, Gadget spied the finish line in the distance. As they crossed, she grinned, patting Tammy on the shoulder.

"See there? That wasn't so bad."
Basking in the moment, she stepped on the brakes.

Nothing happened.

"Um…Gadget…why aren't we slowing down?"
"I don't know!"
Frantically, she began pumping the pedal, trying to pull some degree of stopping power from the braking system. None was forthcoming. They began skidding from side to side, the sheer speed of the car causing them to fishtail.

"Hang on, Tam! I can't control it!"

From the sidelines, the Rescue Rangers had been cheering the win, until Dale happened to notice something.

"Hey guys, why aren't they stoppin'?"
Monty squinted, trying to see what was happening.

"Croikey! It looks like the lass's brakes are gone!"
Realizing the danger to their respective ladies, Chip and Reguba were already scrambling over the railing, headed toward the track.

"They're not going to make it!" Sparky yelled, electrical sparks flying as his teeth chattered in fright.

Down below, the situation worsened as Gadget struggled to slow the Rangerbolt's rapid speed. The announcer had called out a medical unit, waiting to receive any injury.

"Can't you do anything?" Tammy screamed, clinging to one of the rollbars. Gadget shook her head.

"I'm losing it! Hold tight!"

With that the rear end of the car came fully around, sending them into an uncontrollable spin. The driver's side smashed into the fence that surrounded the pit area, and they turned forward again, only to collide head-on with a retaining wall at the edge of the track. The impact raised the rear of the car into the air, where it seemed to hang for a few seconds, before crashing back to earth.

Chip's heart nearly stopped as he witnessed the event, a dozen thoughts and doubts racing through his mind. The thought of raising Mariel alone, of living alone…

Reguba reached the scene first. The force of impact had broken Gadget's weld on the passenger door, which was loose in it's place. With his muscles rippling and a roar of strain, he tore it free, reaching inside. Unbuckling the harness, he lifted Tammy out, setting her on the ground a little way beyond. She was bruised and battered, but opened her eyes and smiled at him.

"Hey, handsome."
Her expression, however, quickly changed to one of horror.

"Oh Lord, Gadget! Quick! Get her out of there!"

Chip and Dale were already on it, pulling debris away from the driver's window.

"One side, mates!" Monty bellowed. He pushed a fallen timber away with one hand, and tore away the netting that covered the window opening.

Gadget was slumped forward, her head resting against the steering wheel, the gearshift still clutched in one hand.

"Gimme a hand, buckoes."
They gently lifted her out, and onto a stretcher that was waiting with the medivac personnel. As the white-clad group trotted away with their cargo, Chip started after them.

"Hold it, lad," Monty cautioned. "You'll just get in th' way. Let's check ovah all this wreck for clues."

The chipmunk hung his head.

"You're right, Monterey. But I don't know anything about engines! How do we know what went wrong?"
"I can lend a hand," Tammy said, leaning on Reguba as they walked over.

"An' ol' Geegaw taught me a thing or three," Monty said. "Let's crack that hood!"

With an effort, Chip unlatched the warp sheet metal and raised it. Underneath, the engine was still basically sound, save for some superficial damage.

"Nothing wrong with the basics," Tammy thought out loud, checking several different parts. "Master cylinder's intact…hello, what's this?"

Pulling her hand out of the engine, she found it covered with brake fluid. Reaching back in, she fiddled around for a few seconds, and jerked loose a section of small tubing. She examined it, and her eyes narrowed.

"I should have known," she said. "Check this out."

On the underside of the tiny hose, there was a single, neatly cut opening.

"Small, but efficient. By the time we got to the final lap, there wasn't enough fluid left in the system to stop a cockroach on roller skates."

"Sabotage?" Sparky asked, with interest.

"Sure looks that way. But how? Gadget was under the hood not a half minute before we started for the track. She wouldn't have missed something like this!"

"We'll ask her when they get her patched up," Chip volunteered. "Come on, let's head up to the medic station."

As the Rangers approached the small building at the west side of the track, they knew immediately that Gadget was all right. Rather, they could hear that she was all right.

"Of all the rotten, two-timing, sniveling, conniving, devious, low-down…"

"Geez, I never knew she thought like that," Dale marveled.

Inside, a mouse in EMT togs was trying valiantly to keep his charge from getting off her cot.

"Miz Cooper, I cain't see if there's been no concussion or not, but you've gotta take it easy!"

Seeing Chip in the doorway, the nurse backed away, giving him a doubtful look.

"See if you kin do anythin' with 'er."

Taking off his hat, Chip sat down on the bedside, where his wife was quite obviously sulking.

"How's your head?" he asked.

"Better than the guy who did this will be, as soon as I catch up to him!"

He chuckled.

"Calm down, dear. The Rangerbolt can be fixed, our investigation's not derailed that much. Just take it easy."

Gadget looked up at him, a dangerous look burning in her blue eyes.

"They trashed my car, Chip. Between a couple of mechanics, that's reaaalllll personal."

"I know, I know. You feel like walking?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
Letting her lean against him, they made their way outside, where the track's towing crew had brought the Rangerbolt into the pit area. Upon seeing it, Gadget left Chip's hold, and walked over. She ran her hand gently over the crumpled fender, seething quietly.

"Tammy, are you up to an all-nighter?"

The squirrel straightened up, and stuck out her hand.

"Let's get cooking, Thelma."
Gadget took the proffered hand.

"You got it, Louise."

She turned to Rob, who had been standing off to the side.

"Is there a garage anywhere around here? And a well stocked hobby store?"

"Nearest garage, outside th' human ones, that'd be over to Knoxville. I know, cause it's mine. Here's the keys. Hobby store's in th' same place, a couple'a buildings over ."
"How fast can we get there?"

"If we can get t'the main road in a few minutes, won't take long atall. Albatross Air makes a night-stop near here."

As it so happened, Albatross Air was late that night. Which was good, as it took a little longer to get the wrecked Rangerbolt to the road than was expected. But before long, a familiar outline showed on the horizon, and a huge bird skidded along the ground, finally sliding to a stop.

"And Orville makes another three-point landing!" he cried.

Chip looked doubtful.

"Is this that wacky bird that Bernard told us about?" he whispered to Gadget.

"Shush. We need all the help we can get."

"Well now, lookee what we got here!" Orville said. "This wouldn't be the Rescue Rangers, would it?"
"That's us," Dale said proudly.

"We were just wondering, Mr. Orville," Gadget said. "We need a lift to Knoxville with our car here. Would it be out of your way?"

"Sure wouldn't! I told Bernard and Bianca I'd help you guys out if I was ever in the neighborhood. Strap it under!"
Within minutes, the wounded vehicle had been suspended beneath the large bird, and Gadget and Tammy clambered aboard.

"Albatross Air, flight one, ready for takeoff!" Orville cried, flapping his wings. As he became airborne, Chip called up to Gadget.
"We'll be along in a bit, we're just going to ask some questions!"
"Sure thing! See you in town!"

A little over a half-hour later, Orville touched down in the alley behind a human garage. Gadget knew that the one they wanted would be nearby, on the ground level.

"Thanks for the ride, Orville! You're a lifesaver!"
"Anytime, Gadget! Back to the skies!"
He flew up into the air, managing to crash into several signs and light fixtures on the way, but finally making it. Gadget shook her head at his antics, and then turned her attention back to the matter at hand. She felt like a walking toothache after all the night's happenings, but she was determined to repair her prized creation.

"There's the door to the garage, Tammy. Let's open up and get the Rangerbolt inside, so we can appraise the damage."

Back at the track, Chip and company had split up, interviewing several drivers about their 'incidents'. So far, they weren't having much luck.

"I'm tellin' ya guys, that's all I knows!" a mole named Charlie said. "I just heard this scratchin' noise, didn't think nothin' about it. But then, in th' middle of the race, my engine blows. No oil pressure!"

"Well…thanks a heap, Charlie," Chip said, trying to keep his forced accent intact. As the group walked away, he named off the main points of what they'd found.
"Everybody admits to hearing some scratching noise, before they headed onto the track. But nobody knows what it could be."

"Oi'd say we bettah keep lookin', mate," Monty suggested. "That's one thing in common, but for once, oi think we need more clues!"

"Oh man, this is worse than I thought," Tammy groaned.

"I'll say," Gadget replied. "The radiator's busted, we've got a cracked head, and the transmission's ready to give any second."
"Do you honestly think we can fix this in time for the first race tomorrow night? I mean, we did qualify for the lead spot."

"If we really work at it, I think we can. Have you got that parts list?"
"In my jacket pocket."

"Good, let's go. I'd say 'Rescue Rangers Away', but I'm too sore to raise my voice that high."

"Trust me, I know the feeling."

A little while later, traveling down an aisle at the nearby hobby store, Tammy was in awe.

"Wow, I didn't know they made so much stuff for diecast models! Can you make any of it serviceable?"
Gadget looked like she'd been insulted.

"Think who you're talking to, Tam."
"Oh yeah, sorry."

"All right, look for a bottom pan for a Turboglide Dodge transmission. It should be in this section."

"Got it!"
"Well that was fast. Maybe this won't take so long after all."

The next handful of parts weren't nearly as easy to find, and had the two friends running all over the model section.

"All right, a new 440 head," Gadget grinned, lifting the part from it's package, and setting it on a small cart she'd built. "A little drilling and sanding, and it'll be ready."

"Here's the radiator!" Tammy called. "Is that everything?"
"Not quite. We'll have to run next door to the auto parts store and siphon off a few containers of real antifreeze."

"Can't you just use water? I hate the way that stuff smells."

"Well, we could, if you want to risk a cracked block, that is."

"Okay, okay, point taken."

They began to walk back toward the entrance, pulling the cart of parts behind them. On the way, Gadget began to be amazed at the sheer volume of small items the store carried.
"Hey Gadget, you think we've got time to stop by the doll section? I don't know how long these jeans are going to hold up."
"I guess so, Tam, just don't take too long!"

The squirrel bounded off in search of the aforementioned clothing, while Gadget waited. Interestingly enough, she looked around, and found herself in front of a rack of tiny musical instruments.

"Wow, wouldn't Chip and Dale love to get at these," she thought aloud, looking upward at a scaled down piano and a hand carved upright bass. She looked down at her own hands, wondering.

"It's been so long since I even picked up an instrument. I wonder if I could still play?"

Seemingly in answer, she noticed a small package sticking out at the back of the rack. Wading into the sea of plastic wrappers, she retrieved it, and pulled it back to the cart. She drew in her breath sharply.

The guitar was beautiful. Up close, she could tell the small instrument had been made by hand. The back and front arched at a fine angle, with twin f-holes running the length. Across the headstock, the word 'Gibson' was inlaid in mother-of-pearl.

"I see you found a new toy," Tammy commented, appearing in a new pair of Levi's. Gadget colored slightly.
"I used to play a bit. Dad had a guitar made for me when I was eleven. It was nothing near this fine, though."

"Well, if it has a case, bring it along! Maybe when this is all over, you'll have some time to practice."
"Maybe." Locating the oblong black box that was made to hold the treasure, she snapped it in and laid it reverently beside the auto parts they'd procured.

"All right, next door for our antifreeze, and then back to work!"

Morning came all too soon, and the two Ranger gearheads worked right through it. Dawn found Gadget up to her elbows in grease and transmission, while Tammy mated the new radiator in place. The blown head had been replaced, along with several other small, damaged parts. The engine had been the first priority, then bodywork.

"Gee, I didn't know it was gonna be…this difficult!" Tammy grunted as a dent popped out of the fender under her tools.

"Nobody ever said…the life of a mechanic was…easy," Gadget gasped, tightening a bolt in place as far as it would go. "I think we've got it all. Turn it over, Tam."

Her friend nodded as she slid through the window and into the driver's seat. The motor coughed, whined, and then caught, filling the garage with it's familiar rumble.

"Atta boy," Gadget grinned, patting the car on the fender. She threw her toolbox into the trunk, and then climbed in beside Tammy.

"Take us back to the track, it's almost five PM now! We'll tune it up when we get there."

The tires screamed loudly as they raced out through the open garage door, and back toward their mission.

"Where are they?" Sparky wondered. "It's going to be time to line up soon!"
"They'll be here," Dale said. "Have you ever known Gadget to blow a deadline?"

All of the Rangers questions and nerves were answered by a well known roar of exhaust, as the small General Lee screeched around a corner, and pulled up to a stop.

"Oh stop harping, Gadget, I told you to hang on!" Tammy was saying.

"The way you drive, I'm always hanging!"

"Girls, girls, can you continue this another time? You've got to get to the starting line, and we need to get into position, to see if we can spot our saboteur," Chip said.

"Right, sorry sweetheart," Gadget answered meekly. She retrieved her crash helmet from the back seat, handing one to Tammy.

"Can you handle this, or do I need to take over?"
The squirrel's only answer was to press the gas, speeding off toward the track.

"Those two make quite a team," Monty laughed. "C'mon, lads. We'd better be getting to a good hidin' spot, if we want to catch anybody!"