Chapter Three -- Not Just Another Pretty Face

          “That’s how they get ya... they’re under the [explicative]
     ground....” 
                              --Valentine McKee, “Tremors”


     A timid knocking on the door brought a frown to Dale. He was
right in the middle of his favorite episode of “The Red Badger of
Courage,” with Foxglove already snuggled up next to him. He would
have been quite content to remain on the conversation couch facing the
television screen for quite some time, but being the only one in the living
room, it was his duty as a Ranger to answer it.
     “This bites,” Dale grumbled. It wouldn’t be so bad if they had a
VCR or something to record the shows on, but no toy manufactures
hadn’t gotten around to making fully programmable VCRs for
Barbie’s Malibu Dream House yet.
     Oh well. They’d have to be leaving for the trip to Nimnul’s soon,
anyway.
     He opened the and greeted their visitor warmly. “Hiya!”
     “Uhm, hello,” she replied, a bit nervously. She was a mouse, but it
was hard to tell at first as she wore a beaten-up shawl and cowl, pulled
halfway down over her face. Her heavy overcoat obscured the rest of her
body save for the tail that slipped out from under the edge of the clothing,
but Dale could tell from her voice and the small bit of her face visible that
she was close to his own age, maybe a little older.
     “Can we help you?” Dale asked, correctly assuming that people
normally only sought the Rangers out when aid was desired. At least,
Dale had never known anyone to come calling to see if the Rangers
needed help cleaning the place, cooking dinner, or just wanted someone
to otherwise exploit for a day.
     “You are a Rescue Ranger, correct?” she asked tentatively with a
slight, crisp British accent.
     “Yeppers!’
     “Oh, thank the Heavens,” she breathed a sigh of relief and swept by
Dale and into the tree, immediately walking over to the table and leaning
against it. “It was a long travel, so please forgive my weariness.”
     “Not a problem,” Dale replied. “Sit down and rest for a bit. I’ll get
the others.”
     Dale walked over to the hallway and screamed, “Gadget! Monty!
We got company!”
     On the couch, Foxglove frowned a bit as her ears twitched; she
debated trying to teach him how to scream in just one key. She stepped
over to turn off the television so as not to distract her darling from his
duties as a Ranger.
     “What is it, Dale?’ Gadget asked as she slid down the tire slide
from her workshop. “Is Zipper back?”
     “Time to go, mate?” Monterey added as he entered from the
kitchen.
     “Nah,” Dale smiled and introduced the Rangers to their guest.
“Gadget and Monty, this is, uh...” Dale paused. “Uh, who are you?”
     “I am Lady Vitae,” she replied. “An old friend of Dr. Speck when
he was studying abroad.”
     “Dr. Speck?” Gadget’s eyes widened in hope. “Do you know
where he is? Is he okay?” she pressed.
     “I do not know where he is, but I believe he is well” she replied, a
bit cautiously. Her tone became suspicious. “But how did *you* know he
is in peril?”
     Monterey stepped over. “Chip -- he’s not here at the moment --
tried to pay the doctor a visit earlier this morn’, but couldn’t find the
bloke. He checked the house too, but no luck, so we had just started
lookin’ today.” He looked a tad surprised as he thought of something.
“If you’ll pardon me askin’, how about you? How’d you know Dr.
Speck was missin’?”
     Lady Vitae sat down and placed her hands on her knees, obviously
feeling out of her element. “I received a note at my apartment this
morning, claiming that Herman had been taken for a ransom.”
     “Herman?” The Rangers asked in unison.
     Even though she still had her cowl down, the evidence of a light
blush was visible in her cheeks. “My apologies. The good doctor and I
had become... close, since my return to the States.”
     “How long ago was that?” Gadget wondered if Dr. Speck hadn’t
said anything about a budding romance for fear it might tarnish his
“work-first” mentality. She also wondered why it reminded her of
someone else she knew, but couldn’t place.
     “Just this past month,” Lady Vitae answered. “I had been in
correspondence with Herman -- I mean, Dr. Speck -- for some time, and
he asked me if I would be willing to relocate in order to help set up some
sort of rehabilitation center that had been proposed.” She smiled shyly.
“Things somewhat grew from that point.”
     Monterey chuckled. He could see Dr. Speck pulled the best people
he knew for that project. He certainly talked about it quite a bit since it
first cropped up a couple of months ago.
     “So what’d the note say?” Dale asked.
     “Here, I brought it with me,” she replied, pulling out a small piece
of paper from within her covering garment. “I thought it best to bring it
straight to you as a clue. Dr. Speck always spoke highly of your work,
after all.”
     “Thanks,” Gadget smiled as she took the note. “Please, don’t be
worried. I’m sure we’ll be able to find Dr. Speck and free him. He’s a
close friend of ours, too.”
     Lady Vitae smiled a bit more confidently. “I would be most
appreciative. I apologize for my initial doubts. I am a bit nervous being
away from England, still, I fear.” She took a deep breath to calm her
nerves, pulling her cowl back as she did, trying to relax a bit from the
tension she obviously still felt.
     Monterey had to grin. Ever since he had joined the Rangers, easily
over half of the females they had encountered had been very easy on the
eyes, and Lady Vitae was certainly no exception. How could he *not*
love his job?
     She wasn’t stunningly gorgeous like Gadget, or a drop-dead
knockout like Desiree, but instead had that certain deep beauty of a
mature lady, one full of culture, intelligence, and grace. Dr. Speck’s
luck was definitely in the black for having attracted this educated
woman’s eye. Monterey gauged her to be at least five years older than
Gadget, but no more than ten. She wore a high-necked white blouse and 
a floor length, full blue skirt, with only her hands and face exposing 
her light brown fur. Her hair was a deeper brown, matching her eyes. She 
seemed a bit more at ease now, though her glances still worked in 
fleeting looks rather than a calm and relaxed gaze as she set her 
blue purse down on the table.
     Gadget had already opened up the note and was openly hmming
over it while Dale peered over her shoulder.
     “Well mates?” Monterey asked them. “Anything?”
     “See for yourself,” Gadget replied, holding up the note for
Monterey to read.
     He took the paper and looked it over. It had been written in black
marker, with large, blockish letters. The paper itself held a very faint
discoloration, but Monterey guessed that was from the paper being quite
a few years old; probably some scrap that was handy to write on.
     It simply read: “Waterfront. Fish Shack behind Warehouse 51.
Come alone. Or your dear friend goes from live bait to dead weight in
one swift stroke.” Below the message was a small ring held to the paper
with a piece of clear, adhesive tape. It appeared to be a female’s ring,
not a male’s.
     “What’s the ring?” Monterey asked.
     Lady Vitae gulped audibly. “It was mine. I had given it to Herman
as a token of my... my affection. He said he kept it on his person at all
times.” She lowered her head slowly and trembled.
     Gadget walked next to the despairing lady and reassuringly
squeezed her shoulder. “It’s okay, Lady Vitae. The Rescue Rangers will
make sure nothing happens to Dr. Sp-- I mean, to Herman.” She smiled
charmingly.
     Lady Vitae glanced up at her and managed to return it. “I would be
most grateful... Gadget, is it?”
     Gadget nodded.
     “Chip and Zipper need to check out this note,” Dale remarked as he
read it. “They’re pretty sharp. Maybe they’ll pick up on something that
we didn’t.”
     “Zipper?” Lady Vitae questioned. “Is that the fly?”
     “Yeah,” Monterey responded. “My little pally has taken a bit o’ a
leap in the logical game of leapfrog. Gettin’ up there with Chipper
himself.”
     “I hope they’ll get back soon,” Gadget said to herself, albeit aloud.
“The more time we have the better. It’ll take a while to get to the
waterfront, and I imagine Chip would prefer we get there with some lead
time.”
     “Oh, I can go get them,” Foxglove piped up from the couch. “Even
bring Chip back right here, if you’d like.”
     “Yeah, cool, Foxy!” Dale grinned. “Thanks a bunch!”
     “Anything to help you out, big boy,” she giggled. “Oh, and the rest
of you guys, too, of course.” She added when she realized she might be
slighting her friends.
     But Monterey just waved it off with a smile while Gadget was too
engrossed with checking the note for signs of sawdust, metallic powder,
or other mechanical residue that might come in handy. It’d be easier if
she could incinerate the note, to preform a chemical analysis on the ashes,
but she had a distinctive hunch that Chip might raise objections to that.
At least until he read it himself.
     Foxglove headed off to the station, while Monterey, Gadget, and
Dale all gathered around the table with Lady Vitae.
            “So any ideas who might want to kidnap the doctor?” Gadget
asked.
     Lady Vitae shrugged. “No, I am afraid not. I suppose a few
suspects may be some prisoners that he helped capture, in one way or
another. But I cannot think of anyone offhand who has a personal
vendetta against him.”
     “Maybe someone has one against you,” Dale suggested.
          “Me?” she seemed shocked at the idea.
     “Yeah. You know, someone mad that you’re dating Dr. Speck. A
jealous lover, an envious ex, some guy named Bob... you know. Happens
all the time on TV.”
     “Uhm, yes, well, I do not think it is any of those,” she replied, a bit
bashfully at having been pegged fully as Dr. Speck’s girlfriend. “At
least, certainly none on my part. I have not had any other interests besides
my studies. And even if someone had an interest in me, I’m still new to
this country, and would doubt that anyone could develop an attachment to
me through a mere serendipitous rendezvous. Herman is the sole person
that I have spent considerable time with.”
     But Monterey shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time it was a case
of love at first sight for some poor blighter. Or maybe just desire at first
sight. Heck, it’s happened to me once or twice.” His eyes become
wistfully distant as he smiled in remembrance. “I recall this little
cheese-server from Casablanca once--”
     “Monty?” Gadget careful interjected. “I really don’t think this is
the time for *those* kind of tales.”
     “Sez who?” Dale asked innocently.
     Lady Vitae actually smiled a bit at that.

*     *     *

     Chip grunted as Foxglove dropped him off in front of the main door
of the Ranger tree. He hadn’t quite mastered how to make a proper
dismount when being carried by a bat, which galled him a bit, as Dale
never seemed to have nearly as much problems.
     “Sounds like she’s talking with them, Chip,” Foxglove announced
for his benefit while Zipper flew up next to them. “I think I hear the
shuffling of cards, too.”
     The trio opened up the door and stepped through, to see that sure
enough, the four of the residents were busy over a card game. Although
he wasn’t sure, Chip thought it looked like Sheepshead.
     “Oh, hiya Chipper!” Dale greeted his friend. “Glad you could make
it,” he said mock-sternly. “I was startin’ to wonder.”
     “I had a bit of trouble finding them,” Foxglove informed Dale as
she gracefully arced her wings and floated over to land by his side before
she even finished the sentence. “So hush and play your game.”
     “Hello, Chip and Zipper,” Lady Vitae nodded politely to each of
them in turn. “My name is Lady Vitae, and I am a close friend of Dr.
Speck.”
     Chip nodded. "Foxglove filled me in on what you had already told
the others, including the note." He smiled at her, partially because he 
now had a name to match the face he spotted in that photo in Dr. Speck's 
office, and partially due to the fact that here was yet another very 
attractive female that he had meet during his career as a Rescue Ranger. 
He loved his job.
     “May I see the note, please?” Chip asked, walking over to the table.
     “Yes, of course,” Lady Vitae nodded, quickly handing it over to the
chipmunk.
     “We talked about trying to get a hold of McDugell,” Gadget said
while Chip read the note, “but in the end decided against it, as too many
people there could easily alert the kidnapper that Lady Vitae had not
come alone.”
     “Good thinking,” Chip nodded in agreement as he eyeballed the
note. “Great,” he mumbled. “Another trip to the docks.”
     “Beg pardon?” Lady Vitae asked in confusion.
     Chip wave it aside. “Sorry. Out last excursion to the waterfront
nearly resulted in the death of an old friend of ours.” He folded up the
note and set it down on the table. “I’d rather not it became a reoccurring
theme.”
     “So how long we got before we need to leave?” Dale asked.
     “Oh, not for a few hours,” Chip replied. “We can get everything
together now, so we can leave a bit early. I’d like to scout out the place a
bit before the actual meeting takes place.”
     Gadget smiled in satisfaction at her ability to make that call; she
knew Chip well enough by now, after all.
     “Do you think they will bring Herm-- I mean, Dr. Speck?” Lady
Vitae asked, hope lighting her eyes.
     Chip sighed. “I don’t know. Offhand, probably not, since they
didn’t ask for any particular ransom just yet. They’ll probably only
explain what they want tonight.” Catching the lady’s crestfallen look, he
added, “But, as long as they’re there, we might be able to capture them.
Then they can lead us to where the doctor is stashed.”
     Lady Vitae gulped, but nodded bravely.
     “I’ll go get the Ranger Wing prepped,” Gadget said, darting off.
“Meet me in the hanger when you’re ready, guys.”
     “Hanger?” Lady Vitae’s eyes widened at the thought of a
fully-functioning launching strip within a tree.
     Monterey smiled. “Not quite like most, my dear,” he chuckled.
“Jus’ a mailbox Gadget managed to set in the tree, where we can stow
the Wing and Plane. The branch out in front of the door acts as a landin’
strip.”
     “Really?’
     “Yeah. Since the Wing and Plane don’t need much room to take
off, it’s works right nice.”
     “Monty,” Chip said, “you and Zipper go and check to make sure all
the supplies are ready and in good condition.”
     “Righty-o, Chipper,” Monterey affirmed while Zipper saluted. As
they started off, Monterey asked, “Whattaya think we’ll need?”
     Chip smirked. “Well, probably a little bit of everything. Mainly
make sure the medical kit, ropes, and hooks are ready. Dale and I will get
a couple of plunger harpoons and syrup-slingers primed.”
     Monterey and Zipper nodded as they headed off towards the
storeage room.
     “What about me?” Foxglove piped up, fluttering over to land next
to Dale. “I’m not doing anything this evening; can I help?”
     Chip smiled. Both he and Foxglove knew her main interest in going
would be to spend more time with Dale. But, she had been a big help in
the past, and was an honorary Ranger, no less.
     “You’ll probably be more involved in the beginning, when we
scout the area. You and Zipper can spot and notice the little things pretty
quick, which would be handy tonight. But when the actual kidnappers
show up, it’ll probably be safer for you to keep out of the action, and
watch for anything that we might not notice.”
     Foxglove nodded. She was no fighter, and knew her talents were
much better suited for non-combative work. That kind of rough, tough,
manly detail was best handled by Dale, of course. The two of them
quickly left to start loading up the Syrup-Slingers. Chip was about to
follow them, as the pair -- as nice as they were -- had a bad habit of
turning the simplest tasks into full-blown emergencies. But he was
stopped by their guest.
     “And as for I?” Lady Vitae asked as she stood up. “I certainly do
not want to just stand around while the rest of you do all the work.”
     “Well,” Chip thought for a bit. “You see, you’ll be the one who
has the direct contact with the kidnappers. The rest of us will be hidden
out of sight. If you show up carrying a plunger harpoon or anything else
that you wouldn’t normally have, they may suspect something is up and
bolt.”
     “So what is exactly your plan, then?” she asked, a bit crisply. Chip
could tell she was bristling a bit at being relegated to a very minor role in
Dr. Speck’s possible rescue.
     “Quite simply,” Chip explained, “we fly out there to case the area
as thoroughly as possible, without giving ourselves away. At the time of
the meeting, the rest of the Rangers and I will be out of sight, in a secure
position for a stakeout of the area. Probably spread out a little. Monty will
probably be close to you on the ground, in case you need back-up for
some reason. The rest of us will cover his flank and back, in case anyone
tries to sneak up behind you. But hopefully it won’t come to that.
Ideally, the kidnappers will tell you what they expect in return for Dr.
Speck. We’ll wait until an opportunity presents itself, then jump them.”
     “What if no opportunity presents itself?” she asked quietly, eyes
cast down.
     Chip smiled. “Then at least we’re no worse off than before. But I
wouldn’t worry. We have time to prepare, and we’ve taken out
enemies who outnumbered and outmuscled us before.” He winked. “We
know what we’re doing.”
     She nodded slowly and sat back down. “I suppose so. I hope so.”
She wiped her brow, letting out a sign of resignation. “Very well. If you
think Herman’s best chances for rescue depend on my playing the
clueless payee, I suppose I will fill that role as best I can.”
     “Thanks, Lady Vitae,” Chip said earnestly, patting her on the
shoulder. “Dale and I will give you a quick lesson on how to use the
syrup-slingers, too. Just in case. And remember, like the others said, Dr.
Speck is an old friend of ours too, so we’ll do everything in our power
to get him home safely.”
     Lady Vitae looked up at him, and a small, nervous smile tugged at
her lush lips. “I am sure that you will.”

*     *     *

     Watching from his vantage point, Dale frowned a bit. His gut
instinct was churning slightly. At first, he thought it might have been
those burritos he had before he left, but then realized it was just a light
rumbling. Something was making him a bit uneasy, and it wasn’t
indigestion. He glanced about the fishing shack they were in, trying to
place the source.
     The shack itself was fairly large. It had been built back into the
latter half of the 20th century, before the new piers was constructed
further on down the docks. Since then, the fisherman who had frequented
this building moved on, leaving it a quiet, abandoned place; perfect for an
animal meeting without fear of running across unwanted humans.
     It was about twenty feet high, ten feet deep and thirty feet wide,
made out of wood with some metal reinforcements here and there. It
actually still held a fair amount of fishing equipment, although it was all
rusted and worn out from the passage of time. The wooden floorboards
were rotted through, and several were missing altogether, exposing the
hard-packed dirt underneath, complete with a smattering of brown grass
sprigs. The interior was bare, save for the thin wooden pillars that held up
the sagging roof and various shelving units along the walls, and in the
rafters above. Fishing nets, rods, and hooks were hung up along the walls
and stuffed in some of the shelves over the main area of the building. The
musty smell of age mixed uneasily with the 
salty breeze from the nearby ocean.
     Dale was stationed up along one of the rafters near the ceiling,
Foxglove close by. They were the furthest from the floor, but Chip had
pointed out that if Dale needed to get to the floor in a hurry, Foxglove
could move him faster than any zipline. He had a plunger harpoon, as the
syrup-slinger would have been too far out of range at this point. He had a
clear view of the center area of the shack, where Lady Vitae waited
nervously, glancing about. A crack in the front of the building allowed a
single shaft of moonlight to fall though, illuminating the mouse below as
if she were in a spotlight on a stage.
     To her right was Monterey, crouched down and hidden behind an
old bundle of rages and fishing nets. Zipper was alongside of him,
primarily to watch out the area around them so his teammate could
devote his full attention to the protection of Lady Vitae. Monterey
shouldered a syrup-slinger, but was also ready to ditch it if he felt a more
up close and personal attack would be in order. Lady Vitae’s safety was
his primary concern, and it might be just plain quicker to jump any
attackers rather than try and aim and fire. Besides, he knew that another
wielded a syrup-slinger -- Chip -- should the need arise.
     Chip wasn’t on the floor, but on the wall to the side of Monterey,
next to Gadget, who had one of her trusty plunger harpoons at the ready.
They had picked this spot as it was a good place to be in case different
scenarios cropped up. If needed, Gadget could join the others in the
capture of the kidnappers, or, if they needed some heavy artillery, she
could also slip through a nearby knothole and make a break for the
Ranger Wing which was parked nearby, under some makeshift
camouflage. It was a bit tricky to hide the Wing this time, as a special
extra had been attached by Gadget before they departed.
     Deciding to prepare for the worst (they had no idea what exactly
would be showing up), Gadget had outfitted the Wing with a new
invention she had been working on over the past couple of weeks.
Inspired by the growing number of tasers, Gadget had started working on
a version that could be used on large animals, such as the bigger types of
dogs, and even possibly bobcats and other such large felines.
     The taser, dubbed the Zapper, had been tested inadvertently by
Gadget on the others at one point during its development, and she was
delighted to find that the mix of amps and volts was merely enough to
knock them out and fling them across the room, rather than do any
serious lasting damage. They hadn’t had any real chance to fully test it
in the field (Flash politely declined Gadget’s request), but she had
figured that a trail by fire would be as good as a controlled lab test.
     It was a fairly bulky device, having been converted over from an old
dustbuster Gadget had salvaged, and would only be able to fire once
before needing to recharge, but one shot would (hopefully) be all they
would need. Strapped to the bottom of the Wing, it made flight and
landing a bit difficult, but Gadget was an accomplished enough pilot to
manage. Her sole concern was the last-minute rigging she had wiped up
in order to be able to fire the Zapper from the cockpit of the Wing. She
was fairly certain she had the wiring configured correctly, so the power
from the Zapper wouldn’t slip into a feedback surge and cause the Wing
to explode in a massive lightning ball. But, she had figured, nothing
ventured, nothing gained.
     Gadget glanced at Chip, wondering if he’d be upset about that
possible complication, especially since she hadn’t informed him about it
in the first place. Still, he had a lot on his mind, and such a trivial matter
would probably only annoy him.
     She was right, at least, in that Chip had a lot on his mind. That
large, gaping hole that had been at the Tree, and also Sewer Al’s,
haunted him, almost enough to distract his attention from their current
objective. He pushed it out of his mind with a willful effort, however, and
concentrated on the area around Lady Vitae. Monterey was closer, but he
was just one mouse, even if he was a headstrong and fierce one in battle.
In the worst case scenario, it’d be up to the chipmunks to help get
Monterey, Zipper, and Lady Vitae clear until Gadget arrived in the Wing,
either to fire off the Zapper or just haul them up so they could escape.
     But that was worst case. Chances were, it was just a few mice who
had mistaken Lady Vitae as some wealthy member of royalty from
England, and were looking to make a fast buck by kidnaping her
boyfriend. He was confident that once captured, the hoods who pulled off
the crime would crack and tell them where to find Dr. Speck. Their
earlier casing of the shack and surrounding area didn’t turn up any
secret hiding places or traps. It was just a secluded place to attempt a
shakedown. No secret passages or anything similar were about that would
afford the kidnappers a chance to sneak in, so at least the Rangers would
know what they were dealing with when the criminals arrived.
     Above him, Foxglove stiffened as her ears twitched.
     “Dale,” she whispered.
     “What?” he asked in a hushed reply.
     “Something’s coming.”
     Dale nodded. “It’s about midnight. It must be them.”
     But Foxglove pointed to the ceiling. “But it’s coming from up
there.”
     Dale turned his head to look up at the wooden ceiling, frowning.
There weren’t any real cracks or holes to see through; Foxglove was his
only sense to what was happening outside. But then he heard something
land on the roof. All of the Rangers did. A soft rustling of feathered
wings could be heard, signaling it was bird, and obviously a good-sized
one. A raven, perhaps, or even a hawk. Dale gulped. Even though a
ceiling separated them, being this close to a predator wasn’t very
reassuring.
     The bird walked down the roof to the front of the building, and flew
down to the ground. The crack where the moon shone through was fairly
large, and everyone within jumped slightly as the bird leapt to slip
through it, momentarily blocking out some light and sending deepening
shadows across the floor.
     As one, the Rangers’ felt their muscles tense. Here we go, they
each thought.
     The bird, silhouetted while perched in the opening, suddenly
flapped off to land in the obscuring darkness of the corner of the
building. The bright moonlight pierced back through, shinning brightly
on the sole figure of Lady Vitae, looking for the all the world alone.
     “Lady Vitae,” a deep, soothing voice said, it somehow seeming to
reach throughout the shack without being a shout.
     “Y-y-yes?” she stammered, stepping back fearfully.
     Another flapping of wings as the bird flew from the corner to one of
the shelving units in the rafters. Lady Vitae’s eyes nervously darted to
the area where Dale and Foxglove were hiding; it wasn’t far from the
bird’s current position.
     “You have come alone?” the voice asked, in a surprisingly
conversational tone.
     From his position, Chip silently swore under his breath. The bird
looked fleeting familiar when the moonlight had caught it, for an instant,
but Chip never got a good enough look at it to even tell what type it was,
let alone if he recognized it. What was worse, he recognized that voice --
he was sure of it -- but was at a total loss as to when he last heard a bird
with that deep of a voice.
     Down below, Lady Vitae swallowed hard as she prepared to lie.
“Yes,” she said, somewhat shakily. But it was obvious that she was
nervous from the outset, which helped to 
mask her deception. The bird shifted about a little bit, the slight
scratching of its claws on wood 
sending shivers down the Rangers’ spines.

     ...................rumble...................

     Suddenly, Foxglove was terrified. She had no clue where this fear
had come from, but something deep inside of her was screaming at her to
get out, and get out now. Nervously, with sweat beading her brow, she
cast her eyes about. Nothing could be seen -- she didn’t even have a
clear view of the bird. Her echolocation didn’t find anything, either.
     But something was terribly, horribly wrong.

     ..........Rumble..........

     She was trembling openly now. Dale looked at her and quickly
leaned over, whispering as softly as he could.
     “Foxy, what’s wrong?” Worry was evident in his features.
     “I--I don’t know,” she answered honestly, struggling to keep her
voice down. The bird was only a few feet below them. To give her and
Dale away would be to practically sign Dr. Speck’s death warrant.
     She wanted to scream, but still didn’t know why. Somewhere in
her, some instinct was yelling at her, telling her that imminent danger was
right on top of them -- screeching at the terrified bat to run as fast as she
could, and never look back.

     ...RUMBLE...

     Lady Vitae looked down at her legs; they were shaking underneath
her skirt.
     But it wasn’t *her* that was shaking....

     ***RUMBLE***

     Suddenly, Foxglove knew. She knew as surely as she was hanging
there. And the realization ushered in a wave of panic that she had never
before experienced. Nothing mattered anymore except to escape--NO!
She had to get Dale out of danger first!
     “Dale!” she screamed, causing everyone’s hearts to stop. “We
have to get out of here! Now!”
     “Foxy!” Dale blinked in astonishment at her utterly horrified face.
     “Come on!” she tried to leap up to grab him and haul him off, but
he stepped back, too stunned at her outburst to comply.
     “Dr. Speck--” he started.
     “Never mind him!” she shrieked in terror. “We are going to DIE
unless we LEAVE NOW!!”
     “Fox--”
     “DALE!! PLEASE--”
     Foxglove never finished her sentence.
     The ground beneath Lady Vitae suddenly exploded, flinging her off
to the side while showering Monterey and Zipper with a hail of dirt clods
and pebbles.
     Foxglove looked down to see her greatest fears confirmed.
     A massive figure burst through the weak soil, its armored hide
easily breaking through the surrounding wooden floorboards like
toothpicks as it rose from the ground, like a relentless demon from the
Abyss surfacing to wreck havoc. It towered up... and up... and up...
finally coming free of the hole, lording over the smaller animals on the
ground with its six foot tall frame of armored hide. Foxglove felt the
blood complete drain from her head as she gazed at the only thing that
could possibly frighten her more than an armadillo.
     A *giant* armadillo.
     She swooned, and she was suddenly collapsed on the rafter, but not
from her own doing. She had been tackled from behind and pinned flat,
while she felt her limbs being pulled back and tied securely with some
type of cord. She opened her mouth to yell, but her assailant slapped a
gag in her mouth, skillfully binding it behind her head before she could
even blink. She glanced about fervently for Dale, but couldn’t spot him
anywhere. Then a small sack was placed over her head, robbing her
vision.
     Dale was still nearby, but was clinging for dear life to the side of
the rafter, over eighteen feet from the ground. Someone had knocked him
down from behind, and it was only through a quick reflex that he was
able to snag the side of the wooden rafter before he followed the plunger
harpoon on its fatal plummet to the ground far below.
     He struggled a bit, managing to reach the top of the rafter just in
time to see the shadowy form of the bird swoop down while clutching a
struggling Foxglove in its claws, bound and with a sack over her head.
     He wasn’t sure if the person who blindsided him was still around,
and he didn’t care. Heedless of his own safety, he yelled to the others,
“The bird’s got Foxy! Stop it!”
     “What is going on?!” Chip fumed as every plan he had formulated
was lost in the sudden swirl of confusion.
     “I don’t know, but I doubt my plunger will do any good against
that armadillo,” Gadget replied, ducking out of the knothole. “Try to stall
him until I get the Zapper!”
     “But how will you get it in?” Chip yelled back-- too late. Gadget
had already taken off. He glanced back to the center of the shack. Things
were happening too fast for him to handle.
     “First things first,” he grumbled. He had to get the front doors open
for Gadget -- she’d never fit the Wing through that crack, not with the
Zapper attached. He dropped his slinger and made a mad dash across the
open ground, trying not to dwell on the fact that he was running directly
towards an animal that could smash him flat in a heartbeat.
     The bird was coming in from above, and dropped Foxglove’s
struggling form into the waiting claws of the armadillo, who wordlessly
stuffed her into a small, closed cage which he then attached to a thick belt
around his waist. Chip changed his plans as he saw this, drawing up a
new one as he leapt over the mound of dirt between him and the
armadillo, lading solidly on the mammal’s shell.
     The armadillo didn’t feel the landing so much as hear it, and
twisted about to see what had caused it. Chip was also quickly scaling the
back of the shell, however, out of sight, and more importantly, out of 
reach of his looming adversary.
     “Monty!” he yelled.
     Monterey looked up from his frantic search for Lady Vitae; he was
still wearing the syrup-slinger, as he figured if the giant armadillo came
after him, he could pop a load of syrup in its eyes, and buy him some
time. “What?”
     “Open the front door!” he didn’t like yelling his intentions out to
everyone, but this was no time to be discreet.
     Hearing the chipmunk but unable to see him, the armadillo simply
flipped over on its back, crashing down with a resounding thud. Chip
leaped clear at the last second, landing hard on to the side. It wasn’t the
greatest of plans, but at least he was stalling the creature.
     High above, Dale was practically sprinting down one of the vertical
wooden support beams, running purely on instinct, all of his thoughts on
Foxglove. He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, and
managed to jump right before the bird had dived in on him, landing
directly on the bird’s head. And, unfortunately for the bird, it was
dealing with a very agitated and angry chipmunk; Dale immediately
jabbed his thumb into the unprotected eye of the predator. The bird
squawked as it lost control of its flight, which Dale was only too happy to
help along by springing out onto one of the wings and rolling over the
edge, where he grabbed a handful of feathers and yanked down hard.
     The relatively small confines of the shack worked against the bird,
as it bounced roughly from one of the pillars, landing heavily on the
ground. Dale hit the ground running and was already halfway to the
armadillo before the bird even realized what had happened.
     On the other side of the now-rising armadillo, Monterey and Zipper
were running towards the door. Zipper would take care of the latch near
the top while Monterey would pull it open from the base. They stopped,
however, as they saw Lady Vitae stagger up to them.
     “What...” she said in a dazed voice. “What....”
     “Later, luv,” Monterey quickly said, grateful that she had only been
a bit woozy rather than hurt. He had to smirk when he noticed that she
still had her purse in hand.
     Women.
     Zipper pointed to the latch, quickly squeaked out to Monterey to get
ready to open the door, then fired off, leaving Monterey and the
wondering Lady Vitae.
     “You’re opening the door?” she asked, trying to keep up with
Monterey, who was closing in on the doors.
     “Yeah,” the rugged mouse replied. “Gadget can then fly in with
that Zapper and hopefully wallop that armadillo. With him down, it’ll
even the odds quite a bit, eh?” he chuckled.
     “Indeed,” she replied simply as they reached the door. Monterey
grasped the edge--
     His vision exploded in a kaleidoscope of stars and colors, before
heavy blackness slid over him, and his body slumped to the ground.
     “And we certainly would not want *that* to happen, now, would
we?” Lady Vitae explained patiently to his unconscious form, slipping
the lead-filled blackjack back into her purse. She quickly stole a glance
up at Zipper, who was too busy with the latch to notice the happenings
below.
     The fly puffed and pulled, and finally, with a surge of strength,
popped the rusty hook free from the slot. He glanced down, his grin
disappearing as he saw Monterey’s motionless body below. Immediately
he shot down to inspect his fallen friend, quickly checking to make sure
he was still alive, and then what could have dropped the large Aussie.
     Odd, Zipper noticed, the syrup-slinger is missing.
     He didn’t have time to wonder where it went, however, as a full
shot of chocolate syrup pegged him squarely, sending him tumbling back
in the mass of sugary ooze, gumming up his wings and weighing him
down severely.
     “Please do remain down, Zipper,” Lady Vitae politely requested,
stepping closer and aiming the syrup-slinger directly at him. “I would not
enjoy having to harm you anymore than necessary.”
     Zipper was too shocked to try and struggle. “Why?” he managed to
voice.
     She smiled. “All in good time. Do be a dear and thank Chip for
teaching me the basics of firing this wonderfully simple device, would
you?” Without another word, she proceeded to unload on the helpless fly,
practically smothering him in syrup. He coughed and flailed a bit, but it
felt as if he were wearing a coat of thick, water-logged wool. He was
unable to even sit up, let alone fly. She had emptied the entire canister on
him, and both of them knew it would take him a while to dig his way out
unaided.
     Unshouldering the Slinger, Lady Vitae glanced over her downed
opponent, making sure that he was sufficiently taken care of, and also
making sure that at least his nose wasn’t covered, lest he suffocate.
Satisfied, she calmly walked back to the center of the shack, leaving
behind two thoroughly betrayed Rangers.
     Chip was about to start his second ascent up the armadillo, when a
blur of red and brown darted past, making a direct beeline for the cage
the beast wore.
     “Dale! Wait!” Chip yelled as he started after his friend, but Dale
had already made up his mind. He was going to save Foxglove and that
was that. He sprang from the ground, clearing the distance better than
Chip would have though possible, and clung to the side of the cage as he
landed on it. Using one hand to balance himself, the other unlatched the
prison, and then reached in to grab Foxglove and pull her free--
     He was abruptly plucked free by his shirt collar by a massive,
clawed paw. The armadillo’s other hand quickly moved over and closed
and relatched the cage securely, but Dale wasn’t nearly finished yet. He
almost instantly raised his arms, slipping down and out from his shirt,
and free from the armadillo’s grasp. He was about to make another
charge, but he was tackled from the side by Chip, right before the
monster’s hand smashed down where they had been a moment before.
     “Leggo!” Dale snarled as he fought against Chip’s restraining
hold. “I gotta save Foxy!”
     “Dale, stop it!’ Chip grunted, trying to keep his friend out of range
of their exceedinly deadly adversary. “Gadget will be here any--”
     He was cut off as a loud wooden crash drew his eyes and Dale’s to
the front doors. Gadget, having realized that she couldn’t quite fit
through the crack, had flown at it full force, hoping the wood on the
doors would break and not the wings of the aircraft. The wood held, but
since Zipper had managed to unlatch the doors, the door was merely
knocked open, allowing the Ranger Wing in without snapping off the
wings or the scraping off the Zapper.
     The calvary had arrived.
     Gadget fought to stabilize herself, and gulped as she caught sight of
the giant armadillo she was rushing up towards. She remembered the
legends of the humans who had to face off against giants and dragons,
and could now truly appreciate what they had been forced to face.
Perhaps, had she not been so overwhelmed at the sight of the creature, so
may have noticed a slight buzzing sound in the background.
     For when she had broken through the door, the impact had popped
a few of the wires free from the Zapper to the Wing; the buzzing was
being caused by a primary inhibitor she had set up, to prevent the electric
surge of the Zapper to seep through into the Wing itself, electrocuting the
occupants. As it stood now, Gadget was flying in a fully-primed electric
chair. Had she heard the buzzing, she may have recognized its source and
aborted the attack.
     But she didn’t hear it, and thus determinedly began her attack run,
hand on the switch.
     “Dale!” Chip, argued, “Gadget is about to fire that Zapper on that
thing! You don’t want to be on it when it’s hit!”
     “I know that!” Dale snapped back fervently. “But Foxglove *is* on
that thing -- if Gadget fires, she might bake Foxy alive!”
     Chip’s heart leapt into his throat as he realized the truth of Dale’s
plea.
     “GADGET!” they both screamed, trying to get the mouse’s
attention before she fired.
     Unfortunately, the roar of the engines prevented her from hearing
the chipmunks.
     But she *did* catch sight of Lady Vitae, up on a rafter, signaling
for her to abort. Gadget didn’t even have time to figure out what was
going on.
     The armadillo made an enormous leap, one of its huge claws
swinging up and over it a strong arc and cleaving headlong into the
oncoming Ranger Wing. The small vehicle was utterly destroyed, and
neither Chip nor Dale could see what had happened to Gadget in the
shower of sparks and plastic.
     As the debris from the Wing rained down, the armadillo pivoted
and leaped back to the center. The chipmunks’ yell had pinpointed their
position for it; they barely had time to blink as the hulking animal’s fist
swooped in from nowhere.
     Dale was lucky; he managed to spin to the side, only catching a
glancing blow that sent him sprawling to the ground a few feet away,
dazed.
     Chip, however, was not lucky.
     He caught the full-front of the blow, and was knocked clear across
to the other side of the shack, over fifteen feet away, ramming hard into
the wooden wall. He bounced off and crumpled to ground below,
motionless.
     Without having spoken a single word, the giant armadillo dove into
the ground, burrowing down and away from the shack. It went down ten
feet, then banked off on an angle, allowing the tunnel to collapse in
behind it, covering it’s escape route and preventing any chance of being
followed by the sole Ranger left standing.
     Dale’s refusal to give in was truly awe-inspiring.
     Without hesitation, he was back up and running towards the hole--
     He went down in a tangled heap of fishing line and pain, someone
having tripped him up along the way. But who? He didn’t see anyone--
     His thoughts were cut off again as some apparently invisible
assailant shoved him roughly into the ground, then hoisted him up and
tossed him to the side like a rag doll. Spitting out the dirt from his mouth,
Dale glanced around, but couldn’t see anyone.
     “What’d you do with Foxglove?” Dale called out to whoever had
been blindsiding him the whole night. “What do you want?” he
demanded.
     “Come, come, come, Dale,” that smooth voice said again. “Is that
any way to treat an old friend?”
     “What?”
     Dale watched as an outline moved towards him, and he gaped in
surprised as the figure’s skin slowly shifted to a faded hue of dark
green.
     A natural skin color for several chameleons.
     “Tore!” Dale exclaimed.
     “Please,” the chameleon rolled his eyes. “I told you before. That is
not my name. It is Raset, and I--”
     Raset was cut off as Dale sprang into a flying-tackle, decking the
villain heavily to the ground.
     Before Dale could throttle the reptile, however, he was suddenly
hoisted free, up into the air by the scruff of his neck. He flailed about
wildly, but to no avail. He twisted slightly to see behind him, and
frowned as he looked into the face of the bird that he had fought earlier --
a falcon, he could now tell.
     “That was quite rude,” Raset grumbled as he stood up. “You
should always let your tormentor banter when he wants to. You might
learn some useful information.”
     “The only useful information I want is what you did with
Foxglove!” Dale ordered. He really didn’t care that he was technically
the captive here.
     “I kidnaped her,” Raset chuckled. “Rather easy to have guessed
that, even for someone like you.”
     “Step a little closer and say that.”
     “No thank you,” Raset rubbed his chest where Dale had tackled
him. “I think the current accommodations are quite adequate.”
     “What is this all about? Why did you capture Foxglove? Do you
have Dr. Speck, too? Where’s Lady Vitae?”
     “One question at a time, please,” Raset scolded. “First, Lady Vitae
is alive and well, and even unharmed. And, just because I’m feeling
generous, I’ll prove it. Oh, Lady Vitae, would you step out, please?”
     Dale growled as he spotted the female mouse gracefully walk out
from the shadows, stopping by Raset. “Hello Dale,” she curtsied. “I do
apologize for having to deceive you and your friends like that, but it was
all done in the name of business, you understand.”
     “Yeah, right,” he huffed.
     “Now Dale,” Raset said, “I do also have Dr. Speck. It was through
his information that I managed to grab a lead on where to find the
Rangers at, and how to lure them here. Which brings us to your other
question; I have captured Foxglove to make sure that I have your full and
undivided attention. Which, no less, leads us to the last answer you
desire.”
     “What do you want?’ Dale repeated. Foxglove was long gone by
now, and he felt the initial rush of anger ebb away as he hung helplessly
from the beak of the falcon.
     “An old partner of mine,” Raset replied smoothly. “Osiris.”
     “What?” Dale asked, thrown off. “What do you want that creep
for?”
     “None of your business. What *is* your business is that I have
Foxglove and Dr. Speck as my guests. And as long as you play by the
rules, they will both be returned to you, unharmed.”
     “And just what rules are we playing by?”
     “Tomorrow. Midnight. You and the Rangers...” he drifted off as
Lady Vitae whispered something he his ear. “I’m sorry. I meant, you
and the Rangers who are able to move, of course. You will bring Osiris to
the J.J. Roberts Department Store Distribution Center. Second floor, by
the freight elevator. I do not care if it is just one of you or all, but you
*will* have Osiris. I will have both Dr. Speck and Foxglove waiting. If
you bring the A.P.F., I kill one of them. If you don’t have Osiris, I kill
one of them. If you don’t show, I kill one of them. If you attempt
something as stupid as you have tonight, I will kill one of them. We’ll
leave the body for you to bury, and then we will try this trade again with
the other hostage, same rules as before.”
     “Must be house rules,” Dale remarked dryly, but he was too afraid
for Foxglove to say it with a sneer.
     Raset shrugged. “It’s not that hard. As I said, if you follow the
rules, all that we will be doing is a simple exchange -- more than
equitable, in fact. I get my old partner back, and you get Foxglove and
Dr. Speck. Two for the price of one. Really, now, doesn’t that seem
quite reasonable?”
     Dale didn’t reply. He had nothing to say.
     “I think that just about covers things, don’t you?” he asked to
Lady Vitae, who nodded.
     Raset nodded to the falcon, who walked over to let Dale dangle over
the pit.
     “Remember, Dale,” Raset warned him darkly. “Midnight
tomorrow. I suggest that as soon as you regain consciousness you head
off at once, as I’m sure you’ll have to do some heavy arguing with the
A.P.F. to let Osiris go.”
     “What do you mean, after I--”
     His sentence turned into a scream as the falcon flipped him out over
into the center of the pit, letting the chipmunk drop like a stone into the
darkness. Dale couldn’t see the end rushing up to him, so his scream
was cut off abruptly as he hit bottom. It was freshly dug dirt, cushioning
his fall, but it was still abrupt enough to knock the wind out of him. As he
felt the adrenaline flush completely from his system, weariness washed in
and he quickly gave in to the beckoning tranquility of a blackout.
     Raset nodded to his companions, then helped Lady Vitae mount the
falcon before climbing up himself. The bird of prey spread its wings and
flew off through the open door of the fish shack, which creaked slightly
in the light breeze.
     It was the only thing left moving.