Chip narrowed his eyes as he watched the smugglers move barrels of smelly cheese from the dock to waiting trucks. The hour was late, perfect for hiding one lone chipmunk detective from the eyes of the criminals he hoped to best. The thought of people moving smelly cheese in his city made the fur on the back of Chip's neck stand up, but he ignored it. "It's not illegal, it's immoral," he reminded himself, as he fought down the urge to burst in and destroy the entire cargo. Too many big wigs and politicians were making money from backend deals with suppliers, so despite how deeply addictive it was to rodents, none had banned or even regulated the sell of the dangerous dairy.
Chip shook his head to dislodge his ire and then adjusted his binoculars. The cheese wasn't the problem at the moment; what it was hiding was. Chip had taken on the case from a distraught mother vole whose child had been taken in an attempt at blackmail due to his father's involvement with some seedy business deals. As much as Chip wanted to do more, his main concern was getting the child away from the thugs who had captured him, and back to the mother who loved him. A paid tip had told him that the boy was being transported in one of the barrels of smelly cheese so police dogs wouldn't be able to sniff him out. With what other intel Chip had, it made sense that the barrel the boy was in would be one of the ones moved that night. The slightest of movements from one of the kegs caused a smile to form on his lips. The boy was in there.
Putting his binoculars back in his pack, he made his way stealthily over to the men rolling the barrels. Chip grimaced when the one holding the child was knocked over and he heard a small yelp. Thankfully, the men moving the cheese didn't seem to notice as they loaded it on the dock platform. Scurrying over, Chip waited until the men moved to unload more barrels from the truck before moving in. Leaning his back up against the barrel, he slowly walked around it, softly calling out the child's name as he did. His heart fluttered when a weak, tear-strained, "Hello?" reached his ears.
"I'm a friend of your mother, Juniper," Chip said as he squatted down and pulled out a small crowbar from his backpack. "I'm here to rescue you. Your mom said you're a really brave kid. I'm going to need you to be brave for me ok?"
"Ok," came a shaky voice and Chip made his way to the top of the barrel. Crowbar in hand, Chip began prying it open. When he had managed to get the lid halfway ajar, Chip was bombarded with the heavy scent of fermented cheese. Holding his breath, he held his hand out to the boy. The tiny vole got frightened and dug himself deeper into the keg. Annoyed with the turn the night was suddenly taking, Chip leaned up, took a deep breath of fresh air, attached his grappling hook to the side of the barrel and then propelled himself into it. Thankfully, voles were immune to the effects of stinky cheese so the boy was fine, but Chip didn't look forward to the moment he'd have to take his next breath. Once again, he reached for the boy but he cowarded away. Weighing his options, Chip did his best to control his breathing as he spoke.
"Come on Juniper," he said tightly, "I'm here to get you out, but you have to trust me. You're going to be brave right?" The child nodded and, wiping tears away, he scurried over to Chip. Holding back a sigh of relief, Chip grabbed hold of the boy, and was about to climb back up, but a voice from above caused him to freeze.
"Hey," a gruff sounding man called to someone Chip couldn't see. "The lid's off one of the barrels."
"And?" a rough voice with an English cockney accent called back. "The goods is the goods. Ain't our business to check for the quality of 'em." Using himself to shield the child from view, Chip pushed further into the stinky cheese. The fumes were starting to get to him but he was thankful for what little ventilation he did have. "Well, don't just stand there looking dumb as a brick. Close it back up." Chip's heart sank when the man not only put the lid back on, but also hammered it shut. The smell of fermented dairy wafted up Chip's nostrils, no longer diluted by fresh air. He swayed but did his best to stay on his feet while his mind feverishly worked out a plan. He could try to break the slats of the barrel but even if he could find a way to do so silently, Chip didn't think he'd have the strength left to actually accomplish it. Under normal circumstances, he would have had more confidence in his abilities. But the longer he spent in the unventilated vat, the less he trusted himself. For not the first time since he'd taken up being a solo Rescue Ranger, Chip missed Gadget and her ingenious inventions.
He lost his footing and slipped against something metal. Keeping the young vole close, he felt around, and sighed with relief at what he'd found. For some odd reason, someone had left a human sized corkscrew in the barrel. Not questioning his good fortune, Chip positioned the device so that the sharp end was wedged firmly in between the slats. Forcing his body weight onto the corkscrew's handle, Chip turned it, creating a hole just big enough for the child and himself to slide through. The boy's mother was waiting for them not too far from where they were. Chip's body wanted to give out but he pushed himself through the hole, pulling the child behind him. Grateful that none of the dock men had heard him and the child making their escape, Chip tried to steady himself and pressed on.
Just…a little bit fur…. Chip felt his mind slipping and it was both awe inspiring and terrifying. With all reasoning almost gone, Chip acted purely on impulse. The need to get the boy to safety was strong and he pulled himself forward. A female vole ran towards them, arms outstretched and tears in her eyes. "Mommy," the boy yelled and Chip flinched, knowing the toddler had just called unwanted attention to them.
"Run," he garbled out as he stumbled.
"What about you?" the mother vole whispered as she grabbed her son. Chip barely had the mind to keep his eyes open, let alone answer her question.
"Run, now." Without another word, Chip watched as the mother ran away into the dark, her child tightly clasped within her arms. There had been a chill to the night, but Chip felt oddly warm.
"Well, well, well," the voice belonging to the Englishman said. "What do we have here?" Fear lanced through Chip, but it wasn't enough to fight off the intense giddiness pumping through his veins. Despite himself, and without any hesitation, Chip gave into the haze.