Gadget's Quest (Rescue Rangers)

[ksharbaugh]

Author's note: This is the sequel to The Wandering Feather and is unique among my fanfics for being the only one where each chapter has its own title. The story focuses on Gadget and her sister Doohickey and the elder's preoccupation with the mother she never knew. There's a smattering of bad language and some violence (primarily centered around one very pissed off mouse weilding a metal staff).

Gadget’s Quest

Chapter One: The Ghost of an Angel

The grey gloom of the Winter months had once more been supplanted by the glorious greens of Spring in the rolling hills of the Allegheny National Forest. A southbound Greyhound bus, having blown a tire, sat on the shoulder of the road while it’s human passengers used the unexpected break to stretch their legs and admire the scenic beauty. One of the transport’s rodent passengers took the unexpected break as a sign to strike out in a new direction. Since his near miraculous rescue from a swollen stream years before he had been making the most of his second chance at life, and a once homebound mouse was seeking out the world’s wonders and grand adventure. Donning his trench coat and slinging his backpack over his shoulder he headed off into the trees.

It wasn’t long after the traveler had lost sight of the Greyhound that a light rain began to fall. At the outset the leaves above him were an adequate shield against the incoming fluid projectiles, but he could tell from the clouds and the encroaching darkness that reinforcements wouldn’t be long in coming and that more substantial cover would be needed. Emerging from a line of shrubs the wandering mouse spied the crumbling foundations of human structures. Once proud buildings that had once defied the elements had been reduced to stone lined depressions in the earth. Amongst the rubble he could see young children, a mixture of mice and squirrels, scrambling for their homes as their mothers called them in from the increasingly inclement weather. A query to one of the passing youngsters directed him to the ‘Kummon Inn’.

The traveler soon located the inn, which was not difficult as it was contained within one of the few human built structures that still retained much of it’s above ground nature. Ducking into an entry framed by the foundation stones, he made his way down a set of stairs to a broad hall. Tables of various sizes were arrayed throughout, accompanied by weary travelers and locals having chosen to dine out. A chipmunk lass soon arrived to take his order. Desiring to experience the local fare, he asked her suggestion, which she cheerfully offered. Satisfied with the lady’s selection, the traveler sat back and awaited his meal.

The rain began to fall with increased force without, causing more rodents to seek the immediate shelter of the inn, some the traveler even recognized from his time aboard the Greyhound. Many would have found the rhythmic cadence of the rain soothing or even romantic. The traveling mouse had done so once, but matters beyond his control had changed that forever and the unease the sound brought only helped to exaggerate the time it was taking for his meal to arrive. As the time passed, more arrivals filled the hall. He watched as his waitress, her coworkers and apparently even the innkeeper go from table to table trying to keep on top of the crowd.

The traveler kept his eyes on the entry as more patrons arrived. He was wondering about the ability of the hall to keep out the runoff when out of the corner of his eye he spied sudden movement. “Sorry this took so long,” a female voice explained, startling the hungry traveler by it’s apparent proximity. Turning back towards the table he was greeted by a plate of warm food. “We’re getting so many people all of a sudden and on top of that the stove gave out for a moment.”

Looking up towards his hostess the traveling mouse verified what his ears had told him, that this wasn’t the chipmunk that had taken his order. The brown mouse beside him had long black hair whose streaks of grey told of her advancing maturity. There was something vaguely familiar about the lady but it wasn’t something he could place, that is until he met her eyes. He had only seen eyes of such brilliant crystal blue once before, and the rain pounding in the background sent a chill through him, it was as if he was seeing a ghost... the ghost of an angel.

Seeing the somewhat puzzled expression on the patron’s face, the lady inquired, “Are you ok?”

The tone of her voice and the hint of concern was all it took to complete the illusion. His chill grew until he could swear he could feel the frigid grip of Titus Creek once more. He remembered gazing limply up into the steel grey sky, taking note of every detail, not knowing why he was doing something so trivial if his end was so near. Then there was the shadow off to the side, despite his curiosity he couldn’t bring himself to turn his head to see more... the clouds would be the last thing he saw. But something happened. He was aware of his body being jerked about in the water, there was something or somebody clinging to his side. The icy water grabbed at him, almost as if it was unwilling to relinquish it’s victim. However, he felt the waters fall away from his sides to be replaced by the muddy earth beneath him. Into his field of view moved a female whose black hair was only slightly greying, she was quite beautiful and, given the circumstances, seemed like an angel. “Are you ok?” she asked.

He was told later he slurred out the question, “Who... you?”

“Amanda,” his rescuer replied cheerfully, “Hawkfeather.”

Bringing himself back to the present, the traveler finally answered the question he’d been asked after his food had been brought to him, “Oh, I’m fine. It’s just that you remind me of someone I used to know.” He couldn’t hold back asking a certain question in return, “What’s your name?”

What’s your name? Those were the first words the matron could remember clearly as her mind drifted back through time. She remembered pain. Every part of her body seemed to ache, her left shoulder possessing a searing, screaming pain. She could see strange figures hovering nearby while others further off hurried back and forth. There was nothing sinister about their presence and she seemed to recall having heard some expressing deep concern for her well being. One of them asked gently, “What’s your name?”

She remembered drawling out something equivalent to, “Namezamanza.”

“Sounded like she said ‘Name’s Samantha’,” another voice intoned.

“Is your name ‘Samantha’?” the first voice inquired clearly.

Another voice, quite authoritative, soon joined the other two, “Please, this poor woman is in no condition to be badgered with questions! We can get her name and start looking for any family later, when she’s stronger.”

Family. The very mention of the word caused her to try to bring up names or faces... but none surfaced. For that matter, neither could she bring up her own name. The pain was bad, but what entered her mind, or more specifically what didn’t, felt even worse. But that was the past, and she had pressing matters in the present. What was her name? “Samantha,” she answered the traveler, “Grant.” She soon queried back, “Why do you want to know?”

“It’s just that you look so much like someone I used to know,” the traveler answered, “By the way, my name’s Cadence Coldwater, but everybody just calls me Dennis.”

“Nice to meet you,” Samantha replied. “Was this person an old flame?” she asked, supposing that might be the cause of his unusual behavior towards her.

“Hardly,” Dennis laughed disarmingly, “She was someone who pulled me from a rain gorged stream some years ago, I was told she was lost later that day in the river down stream trying to rescue others.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Samantha responded, “She sounds like she was a good person.”

-to be continued...

[ksharbaugh]

Chapter Two: Their Mother’s Memory

Dennis arrived at Rescue Ranger Headquarters on what was otherwise a boring afternoon, so a visit from a stranger ‘just stopping by’ was a pleasant distraction. The traveling mouse received a warm welcome, as was customary. Dee, in town to visit Chip and discuss their impending marriage, nodded in greeting with a simple “Hae’.”

“What made you decide to stop by and visit us?” Chip inquired.

“Well, I was out of town both times you all visited my city,” Dennis began, “So I figured the only way to meet you would be to come visit you in yours.”

“Where do you live?” Gadget asked.

“I don’t actually live there much anymore,” the guest conceded, “Most of my time’s spent seein’ the world!”

Monty broke in, “You got a thing for adventurin’, eh? I been around the world more than a few times me’self.”

“They have a dish named after you at a tavern in Southbury, England,” Dennis pointed out.

“Really? How do they make it?” Monty asked.

“Not a meal, an actual plate,” corrected Dennis, “They have it hanging on a wall with a sign that reads: Once cheese was here, Then Monterey Jack drew near, The usual victims here are beers, But with Monty it’s the cheese that fears.”

While Monty let out a throaty laugh at how he’d been remembered, Dee reiterated her sister’s question, “So where do you live? Your hometown that is.”

Dennis looked at the raven haired mouse and gestured in her direction, “Salamanca, like yourself!” He suddenly wagged a finger, as if scolding some invisible child. “Before I forget,” he stated, “While I was passing through a little place in the north-western end of the Allegheny National Forest I met a lady,” he turned to face Dee again, as he finished, “who was an absolute dead ringer for your mother.”

“Huh,” was Dee’s unenthusiastic response.

“That’s what got me thinking I’d stop here,” Dennis pointed out.

“You knew our mother?” Gadget inquired.

“Well, yes and no,” was the traveler’s somewhat somber response, “You see, I met her the very day she was lost during that flood. She pulled me out of Titus Creek earlier in the day, but by the time I was in any condition to hold a meaningful conversation the others who were helping fish people out of the creek told me she’d gone to help out at those river front apartments. I heard later about what had happened to her.”

“So you only saw her for a few seconds?” Chip inquired somewhat skeptically.

Dennis shook his head as he answered, “There is no way I could forget her face! If it hadn’t been for her I would’ve been just another lifeless piece of drift floating down the river.”

“I hafta say I agree with that,” Monty added, “Bein’ saved from the jaws of death can really freeze a face in your mind. Now I could count from memory the number of whiskers in Gewgaw’s mustache from that time he kept me from bein’ blown away by that typhoon in Tora-Tonga!”

Chip raised an eyebrow as he asked the portly Aussie, “You were almost blown away?”

“That was one killah typhoon!” Monty explained, “Later on me an’ Gewgaw saw a whale go flyin’ by.”

“A whale?” Chip asked even more incredulous than before.

“Kept a native village in the mountains fed a for a year,” Monty continued, “That is, once they got their village dug out from underneath it.”

Oblivious to the discussion between her two comrades, Gadget kept her attention fixed on the visitor. Ever since learning that her mother hadn’t died within a few weeks of her birth, Gadget had been unceasingly curious about the details of her mother’s life that had been unknown to her. Anything that had any connection to her mother was of immediate interest to her, not that it ever interfered with her responsibilities but she was aware of it’s increasing intrusion on her ‘off duty’ thoughts. For years Gadget would think to herself, upon completing an invention, “I wish Dad were here to see this”, more recently, though, this was followed by the addendum, “and Mom, too.” Such often led to another matter that troubled her thoughts. When reflecting upon her late father she could conjure up a detailed memory of him, but she had no memory of her mother to reflect upon. There was the idealized image she created as a child, but recently reflecting on it bothered her, almost feeling as if doing so was disrespectful, those images weren’t of her mother, not her real mother anyway. Now she had a chance to rectify the matter. “Where in the National Forest did you meet this person?” she asked, “Could you point it out on a map?”

“Sure thing,” Dennis replied, “You got a map of the place?”

“Sure thing,” Gadget replied in kind. “We have maps of just about everyplace on Earth,” she declared as she hurried off to locate the appropriate map, “We never know when we might have to travel to some far off destination so it helps to keep maps of just about anyplace in easy reach.” In short order the blond mouse returned with a map and laid it out before the guest. “It’s not specifically focused on the Allegheny National Forest, more just a general map of western Pennsylvania, but that’s where the National Forest is so anyplace in the forest should be shown on the map.”

Dennis quickly located the route he had taken. With a finger he traced the Greyhound’s path south from the New York/Pennsylvania line. He stopped and focused on the location of his finger. “Should be right about in here, between this bend in road 321 due west to the bank of the Allegheny Reservoir,” Dennis pointed out, “It’s in the ruins of an abandoned mining town, a place called the ‘Kummon Inn’. Got good food and a place to stay for the night.”

As Gadget examined the map, she discovered an interesting fact concerning the site. “Golly, that’s just downstream from Salamanca,” she declared, more to herself than anyone around her, “Well, not just downstream, it would be quite a few miles in actuality, it’s the scaled down size of the map that creates the illusion of it’s proximity, though one could still argue that in comparison to other sites it is actually pretty close...”

[ksharbaugh]

-Chapter Two continued...

The evening passed as Monty offered his fellow adventurer a meal and a chance to swap stories before going on his way. In due time, however, the encroaching darkness put a quick departure in doubt and the traveler was offered a bunk for the night, an offer he readily accepted. As the experienced adventurers continued swapping stories, Gadget found herself increasingly distracted from the tales by the map she’d left out. Looking over the detailed depiction of the terrain her eyes kept retracing the course of the Allegany River down from Salamanca and back up. A small notion, almost completely overlooked in it’s conceptual infancy, began to grow, began to take up more space in the world of her thoughts. When Gadget finally took note of it’s existence she could sense the sudden yet subtle release of adrenalin that accompanies exciting thoughts. She looked about for her sister, wanting to verify something, but couldn’t seem to locate her in the immediate vicinity.

“Chip, did you see where Dee went?” she quietly asked her future brother-in-law so as not to interrupt Dennis or Monty’s story, whichever one happened to be recounting a tale at the moment.

“She got bored and headed for your workshop,” Chip revealed.

“Oh, that makes sense,” Gadget concluded as she got up. Sure enough, she found her sister busily going about the workshop, tinkering to keep herself occupied... an activity she was quite familiar with. For a moment Gadget wondered if that’s what she looked like to the others. “Dee?” she finally addressed her sibling, entering her tool and invention filled domain.

“Hae’,” the younger mouse spouted obligingly, “I hope you don’t mind me playing around here, but I can only spend so much time sitting still listening to others... you know the feeling.”

“That’s completely understandable given our similar intellectual inclinations,” Gadget replied, “And it’s only fair considering that you’ve let me keep busy in your workshops the times I’ve visited.” Thinking about the likelihood of her father approving of her sharing her ‘toys’ with her sibling she brought up the now familiar add on of wondering what her mother would think of the matter of her daughters getting along so amicably. Thus, she was brought back to the issue that caused her to seek out her sister in the first place. “I think it’s fascinating that someone encountered a mouse that was so visibly similar to our mother,” she stated.

“Yeah,” Dee replied rather absently, clearly preoccupied with the tools in her paws. Though not heavily focused on the conversation, the fact that it apparently ended at that point did draw her attention. Getting the impression that Gadget was just standing there looking at her, Dee turned. “Is that it?” she asked.

“Uh, well, technically, um, no,” Gadget rambled awkwardly, she wasn’t sure she wanted to bring up what was weighing on her mind. It wasn’t an issue she was sure deserved the weight her subconscious seemed to be giving it in the first place. “What do you suppose,” Gadget began slowly, “would be the probability of someone, say, a mouse, surviving in frigid water for the length of time it would take to drift...”

“None,” Dee answered curtly before turning back to the workbench before her, “The probability is zero.” She hoped the conversation would end there, it was a discussion she wanted no parts of.

“You didn’t seem to give that much thought,” Gadget replied, feeling somewhat indignant about her sister’s answer, “You didn’t even let me finish the question!”

Dee set down her tools. “You’re wondering about the probability of our mother having survived her experience in the river the day she disappeared,” she presumed before turning to face Gadget, “Correct?”

Gadget nodded, feeling a little embarrassed. Part of her had suspected she was being naively optimistic about the issue, and was afraid even mentioning the possibility might make her appear foolish.

“We may only have known each other for a few years,” Dee began, “But I think you know me well enough to know that I would have exhausted every avenue in trying to locate our mother. Both the city and tribe organized search parties to travel down river to get in touch with any communities that might have fished survivors or victims from the river... our brother was one of those who went. And while they trekked down both banks of the river as far as the Kinzua Dam I began doing probability tables, analyzing the known river currents, raiding every medical archive I could get to that might contain information on rodent physiology and survivability.” Pausing to ascertain whether or not her sister was listening, Dee was slightly relieved to see that Gadget was listening attentively... maybe she could lay the matter to rest, again, before bedtime. “It wasn’t until a week after Bob and the others returned that I stopped clutching at straws. I wrapped up my research, accepted what all the results showed, and finally allowed myself to mourn.”

“Well, if you could show me the results of that research then maybe I can accept that she’s gone,” Gadget stated.

Dee quietly hung her head for a moment. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to add fuel to the fire, “I destroyed the notes.”

Gadget blinked a few times as she digested that deceptively small piece of information. “You what?!” she finally asked in disbelief.

The last thing Dee wanted was to keep raking over the coals of past grieving. Her mind hit upon something that might bring further discussion of the subject to a screeching halt. It wouldn’t be pleasant, she reasoned as she recalled what Gadget had related to her of her father’s death, but she wanted the matter dropped. “When your father died,” Dee fired off, “did you keep the blood spattered pilot’s seat?”

Gadget’s eyes widened in shock. “Wh- no,” she replied in disgust, unable to understand why anyone would do something so morbid. That’s when it occurred to her, those notes would’ve have been a constant reminder to her sister of the pain of her loss.

“If you had made plaster casts of the predator tracks at the site of the crash,” Dee continued, “would you have kept them?” She knew that last bit was almost certainly unnecessary, but why should she be the only one in pain.

Gadget quietly answered the second question, “No.”

There was an uncomfortable silence in the workshop. As Gadget slowly turned to leave, Dee apologized, “I’m sorry, I didn’t have to reply the way I did.”

“That’s ok,” Gadget responded softly, “You’re not exactly at your best when you’re upset, and I guess I didn’t stop to think about how painful a subject this would be for you.”

The two sisters went about their respective business, each trying to keep their mind off of the argument they’d just had. But as hard as she tried, Gadget couldn’t keep herself from glancing back at the map she had pulled out earlier. It kept gnawing at her. She did want to go, if only to get an idea of what her mother had looked like, but the apparent coincidence simply seemed too remarkable to ignore. Gadget wanted to go. She would go. But there was one aspect of her trip that she could not deal with on her own, and she wasn’t looking forward to suggesting to Dee that she tag along for that purpose alone. The issue was getting to be too much of a distraction for Gadget to put up with. Just do it, she told herself. “If I’m going to throw a highly combustible material onto a radiant heat source I might as well get it over with,” she stated aloud. Fortunately for Monty, he didn’t hear it.

Gadget soon tracked down her sister in the relatively close quarters of Ranger Headquarters. “Dee, I’m going to be going to Pennsylvania to see this Samantha person,” she stated plainly.

“Ok,” was Dee’s wary response.

“I know you had every right to destroy your notes since you had no way to know you’d need them for a situation like this, but that doesn’t change the fact that it leaves a certain level of uncertainty on my part as to our mother’s fate,” Gadget proceeded as calmly and logically as she could so as to forestall an emotional reaction on her sister’s part, “I don’t know what our mother looked like and I don’t remember the sound of her voice which means after I meet this Samantha there will likely remain a part of me that isn’t sure. You were one of the last people to see her and would know her voice better than almost anyone else, which means you could immediately verify that Samantha isn’t our mother.” There was no immediate response, and as Dee still had her back to her, Gadget couldn’t gauge her expression, so she finished, “I’ll accept that your research was sufficiently without error if you could at least erase this one last doubt.”

Dee sighed as she slowly turned to face Gadget. “If I tell you that this person isn’t our mother, will you put this matter to rest finally?”

“I will accept that our mother is gone,” Gadget agreed.

-to be continued...

[ksharbaugh]

Chapter Three: The Quest Begins

After a hearty breakfast, Dennis was prepared to continue his travels and experience what the wild fates had in store for him. “I’d be offerin’ to go with ya’, lad,” Monty stated as he led the younger adventurer from Ranger Headquarters, “But I’ve got my own responsibilities here.”

“Yeah, we don’t have to look for adventure here,” Dale joined in, “Adventure usually finds us!”

One ‘farewell’ out of the way, two to go. Everyone met up on the landing strip where Gadget and Dee were finishing up preparations for their own odyssey. “Are you sure this won’t be too much of an inconvenience?” Gadget asked as she finished loading the Ranger Wing, “I mean even though we’re only going to be gone for a few days we all know what kind of things can happen, and with us taking the Ranger Wing...”

“It’s just as likely nothing will happen,” Chip began to explain, “And besides, with your guidance Raven is becoming an excellent auxiliary Ranger, she should be more than capable of taking on emergency situations.” Noticing the rather harsh look he was receiving from his fiancé, he quickly amended, “Or not.”

“Dee, luv,” Monty stepped in, “We know you’re just lookin’ out for your girl, but she’s proven herself on more than one occasion and she’s gettin’ better at not charging in without thinking.”

“I know,” Dee grumbled, “Still doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Spoken like a true mother!” Monty replied as he hoisted Dee up into the Ranger Wing, much to her surprise. As she stood in the aircraft she spun about to scold the Aussie. “Sorry, luv,” he offered sheepishly, “I forgot which sister I was dealin’ with.”

“We won’t be gone any longer than absolutely necessary,” Gadget assured her friends as she took her place in the pilot’s seat.

With a final exchange of farewells the sisters departed. For the duration of the journey there was very little small talk between the daughters of Amanda, due in no small part to Dee’s lack of enthusiasm for the endeavor. She was more than approving of Gadget’s desire to learn more about the mother she never knew, it was the let down she was sure would result from the quest that she wanted no parts of. Dee was always a little bothered by how naive her sister seemed to be at times, how it sometimes appeared that she genuinely believed that ‘happily ever after’ was a guarantee... eventually. She wasn’t looking forward to comforting Gadget when it became obvious to her that there was no long-lost parent waiting to embrace the little girl she hadn’t seen in nearly twenty-eight years.

[ksharbaugh]

-Chapter Three continued...

It was well into a brilliant Spring morning when Gadget and Dee located the distinctive bend in the road as detailed by Dennis and from there were able to spot the abandoned mining town. Setting down well out of sight of any likely human traffic from the road, vehicular or pedestrian, the sisters disembarked and headed off to find the Kummon Inn. A quick inquiry to a local led them true. Both mice made a quick visual sweep of the interior upon descending the stairs within. There were few souls to be found and none even remotely familiar.

“I suppose we should take a seat,” Gadget suggested as she approached a nearby table. Dee promptly took the seat opposite her sister.

A cheerful young chipmunk soon arrived at their table. “Is there anything I can get you two?” she inquired brightly.

“How about someone,” Dee replied.

“We’re hoping to meet a mouse by the name of Samantha Grant, we were told she works here,” Gadget clarified, “Do you know her?”

“I know her, but she’s not here at the moment,” the girl answered, “She and Mr Greystone, the owner here, went to assist the Sisters at the convent just outside of town.”

“Do you know when they’ll be back?” asked Gadget hopefully.

The chipmunk thought for a few seconds. “Well,” she began slowly, collecting her thoughts, “They left pretty early, so I guess they should be back by noon.” The way she broke eye contact immediately after her answer hinted at matters left unspoken.

Dee spotted the girl’s apparent uncertainty and inquired, “But?”

Sighing deeply, the chipmunk confessed anxiously, “We’re really not supposed to bring this up to visitors, but... people have been going missing lately. People leave the immediate area and sometimes don’t come back.”

“You mean people who live here?” Dee inquired further.

Biting her lower lip, the young chipmunk nodded. “People are being told to travel in pairs, that’s why Mr Greystone left with Samantha,” she eventually explained.

“Golly, maybe we should have brought the others,” Gadget wondered aloud.

“We may as well wait until we get a chance to meet Samantha,” Dee reasoned, “if for no other reason than to see if they return.”

“Why do you want to meet with Samantha anyway?” the chipmunk asked.

Dee looked to Gadget who fielded the question. “My parents separated not long after I was born and I was raised by my father,” she proceeded to explain, “We lost our mother before I discovered the rest of my family so I don’t even know what she looked like.”

As the subject was centered on Samantha and given what little she knew of her, the young chipmunk just assumed Gadget’s choice of words implied ‘missing’ rather than ‘dead’. This meant that what next came from her mouth seemed perfectly logical to her. “Maybe Samantha’s your mother,” she suggested.

Dee couldn’t help but wince. She didn’t want Gadget’s hopes inflated any more than they likely already were. Fortunately for her nerves, Gadget’s response leaned towards the cynical. “I think that would be statistically improbable.”

“Why would you even say that?” Dee inquired of the girl.

The chipmunk femme responded as casually as pointing out the sun was shining, “Well, ever since she showed up here a couple years ago we’ve been hoping her family would come walking through the door and tell her how much they missed her.”

Neither sister was quite prepared for that type of answer. They looked at each other, utterly at a loss for what the girl was talking about. Gadget finally broke the silence, “Ever since she showed up here?”

“She staggered into town looking like something the cat coughed up after a heavy rain,” the girl informed the guests, “A couple of Sisters from the convent had gotten stuck here by the rains and when they left to head back they encountered Samantha. They brought her back in to care for her. From what I was told it was a couple days before she could answer any questions, and by then all anyone found out was that she had amnesia.” The girl stopped for a moment before remembering a forgotten detail, “Actually, I think she did answer a question after they first brought her in, she said something like, ‘My name’s Samantha’. But that could have been later, I do know she said something like that at some point.”

“Didn’t anybody check with the nearby towns to see if anybody knew her?” Dee asked.

“Yeah,” the girl responded, “But no one recognized her or had known of anyone that had gone missing the day or two before.” Remembering that her responsibility was taking guests orders, not being the local story teller, she got back to work, “Can I get you anything while you wait?”

“Just some water, please,” Gadget answered, still thinking over the information just provided.

“Water,” Dee nodded in agreement.

“Looks like there are two mysteries that need looked into,” Gadget stated to her sister, “Even if Samantha isn’t our mother it’s likely she does have family somewhere.”

Shortly after the young chipmunk brought the double order of water, she spotted her employer and coworker entering the hall. Quickly making her way over to them, she conveyed the knowledge that some new arrivals wished to meet with her.

Upon hearing that they implied that she looked like their mother, Samantha had a sudden rush of emotions. Five years had passed since her arrival and during those five years she had hoped something, anything would happen to help reunite her with her past. Early on she had waited tables at the Inn hoping to come across someone passing through that might recognize her, but her apparent technical skill soon brought her into the kitchen to help keep things working properly. She could have kicked herself for not asking that Dennis character where he’d come from. Even being told that the mouse she reminded him of had died wasn’t a deterrent to her hopes, it was still a better lead than she’d had the previous five years. She would not pass up this chance. Not given the fact that they had come looking for her specifically. Maybe they know Dennis, she thought, and he remembered having met me. Having a missed opportunity resurface like that seemed statistically improbable. Giving Mr Greystone, or Terry as she knew him, a peck on the cheek, she departed to meet with the two strangers.

Though he had been hoping as much, or possibly more, than the others in the community that Samantha would rediscover her past, he was a little leery of these new arrivals. The fact that friends and neighbors were disappearing right and left had something to do with that, but he had developed a particular attachment to the local ‘mystery mouse’ and the last thing he wanted was to see her get hurt, physically or emotionally. Staying back a ways, he followed Samantha to the table where Gadget and Dee were seated and set down nearby.

“Hello,” Samantha addressed the two visitors as she reached their table, “I heard you two were looking for me. My name’s Samantha.”

Not having seen her approach, the first sign Dee had of Samantha’s presence was her greeting. The tone of her voice caused an almost instinctive reaction. Dee immediately jerked about to face the owner of the voice. Looking up she met the smiling gaze of the greying matron. Every feature was perfect, just as they appeared in all the dreams she’d had for the past five years, just as she’d remembered them from the years before. The power of speech having deserted her, Dee’s mouth merely hung open.

-to be continued...

[ksharbaugh]

Chapter Four: Recognition and Recollection

“Hi, I’m Gadget!” the blond mouse greeted cheerfully, standing to shake Samantha’s hand, “and this is my sister Doohickey. We were told by a traveler named Dennis that you bore an amazing resemblance to our mother.”

As she took Gadget’s hand Samantha was briefly as speechless as Dee. The eyes she met were the identical shade of blue as the ones she saw every morning in her mirror. “I remember him,” Samantha finally stated as she took a seat at the table, “He stopped here just about nine days ago, said I reminded him of someone that had saved his life.”

“That was our mother,” Gadget unnecessarily pointed out, “Unfortunately I never got a chance to know her because she left shortly after I was born, she had to return to her hometown to care for her aging mother and keep her ex in-laws from getting custody of our brother. I grew up never knowing what my mother looked like and when one of the last people to see her alive mentioned meeting someone who looked just like her I figured this was my chance to see her... well, someone that looked like her so I knew what she looked like.”

“I guess that’s why your sister came along,” Samantha reasoned.

“Precisely,” Gadget confirmed. Both turned their gaze towards Dee who had yet to regain her power of speech and was still just staring at Samantha. “So, does she look like Mom?” Gadget asked her dumbfounded sibling.

Dee wanted to speak, but her conflicting thoughts made coherent speech unlikely. Should she answer Gadget with ‘Yes, she looks exactly like Mom’ or turn to Samantha with the simple question ‘Mom?’. “Sh-” Dee managed as she looked back and forth between the two mice with which she was seated. “This is impossible!” were the first real words she finally forced out, “She looks exactly like her!”

There were no words to match the thrill that struck Samantha. Not only is it possible that these visitors were connected to her previous life they could actually be her life, her own children! However, the thrill was quickly set upon by one of the constants of the new life that she knew. Gadget and Doohickey could very well be her own blood but there were no memories, nothing. Part of her wanted to weep in frustration. But she wasn’t going to give up, there were questions she could ask, had to ask. “As I recall, Dennis said your mother was lost during a flood. Were you ever able to find her body?” Samantha asked, remembering that it was one she had wanted to ask the traveler.

“I’m told that it wasn’t,” Gadget responded, “Dee was the one who was there when it happened... Well, not right there but she was in the general area that the flood took place and her brother was part of the search party that went looking for her, actually he’s my brother too, half-brother technically, like Dee, only Dee isn’t a my half-brother, she’s my half-sister, we have the same mother but different fathers. Not that Dee and her brother have different fathers, just that I have a different father than they do.”

“Several people in our area were lost during the flooding,” Dee clarified, once Gadget’s over-clarification had come to a long overdue end, “Only about a fifth were ever accounted for, our... mother, wasn’t among them.” It seemed so bizarre to refer to her mother in the third person like that when so much of her emotions told her she was sitting right there next to her.

“How long ago was that?” Samantha asked, continuing to search for any connection with her own situation.

Dee quickly did the math, “Five years.”

Five years! Samantha’s heart practically skipped a beat. Terry, as well, took note of the similarity. And there was no overlooking the obvious physical connections... one young lady with the exact same eyes and the other with identical fur coloring. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of elation at the possibility that his love was almost certainly within reach of regaining not just her life but her family. But there was something else, something he was not willing to admit to himself. Hidden in the back of Terrence Greystone’s mind was a feeling that loomed larger by the second, a feeling that could easily be overlooked as mere concern. In reality it was less concern than fear. He might have seen this sensation for what it truly was, had his thoughts not been suddenly pulled away from the matter at hand.

“Everybody!” a male chipmunk shouted, leaning into the hall from the stairwell, “Someone’s missing! The Dirkson’s little girl!”

The reaction of the few outsiders passing through was muted. Either they assumed they wouldn’t know ‘the Dirkson’s little girl’ if they stepped on her or knew so little of the local terrain that they feared they would wind up missing. Two visitors, though, leapt to the call. Gadget acted out of her genuine concern for others and her duty as a Rescue Ranger while her sister acted on her instincts as a mother. For the locals, however, this situation had become uncomfortably routine. They hoped, each time, that if they rallied more quickly they had a greater chance of locating the missing person or, at the very least, catch sight of what or who was responsible. But with each failure the sense of helplessness and despair grew larger.

Samantha also took to her feet as quickly as ever but was stopped by Terry. The sudden need for action caused him to make a hasty decision, one he likely would not have made had the time been available to weigh matters properly. “Someone has to stay behind to keep an eye on things here, please!” he told his love before turning to join the others in the search.

Frozen in place for a moment by indecision, Samantha resigned herself to ‘minding the store’. She didn’t want to. The local community may not be the town of her birth, but it was all she knew and merely biding her time while her neighbors were in need was intolerable. She had to keep her mind off the matter. “Gadget and Doohickey,” Samantha said to herself, having located a subject more likely to keep her mind preoccupied, “What kind of mother would name her children ‘Gadget’ and ‘Doohickey’?” Emitting a little laugh at the apparent absurdity of it, she continued, “What’s their brother’s name? Thingamabob?” Something clicked in Samantha’s mind. She slowly came to a halt as she pulled up a fragment of a memory. Not a distant memory, one she longed to become reacquainted with, but one more recent, as in the last five years. Saying the three names silently to herself she tried to recall where she had heard them before. She had it!

Quickly surveying the hall, Samantha deduced that the few who had remained behind were adequately preoccupied, most likely discussing the local emergency among themselves. She departed for her room, one of the larger chambers set aside for extended residency. Throwing open the door she frantically tried to remember where she’d placed the paper the Sisters had given her. During the days following her arrival, as she lapsed in and out of consciousness, the Sisters had listened intently to whatever she said in her sleep, hoping for a name of family or community... something that could lead them to those who might be missing her. But despite their vigilance, most of what ‘Samantha’ said was either so slurred or alien that almost nothing could be made out... with the exception of three words that she kept repeating. Without the proper context the words alone were of no help whatsoever, but one of the Sisters jotted them down anyway in hopes that the weary stranger could make sense of them once she became more lucid.

Samantha nearly tore out the dresser drawer in her frenzy to retrieve the slip of paper. Much to the Sister’s dismay, Samantha herself was unable to shed any light on what the words were supposed to mean to her. There! She found the paper. Withdrawing the folded sheet she opened it and read the words:

Biscuits, cheese, berries

What?! Samantha thought to herself, That’s my handwriting! “Wrong drawer,” she growled as she tossed aside the old shopping list. Why did I keep that thing anyway? she wondered, opening the next drawer. “Got it!” Opening the folded sheet, Samantha was greeted by the distinguished writing of one who had spent many hours copying scripture and dispatching correspondence to neighboring chapters. There were the words, followed by an embellished question mark:

Thingamabob, gadget, doohickey?

Gadget and doohickey. Not words, Samantha concluded, Not words, but names. The names of my children! She almost could not believe her incredible fortune. She was still unable to recall any specific memories of them but the coincidence was too great, she must be their lost mother! The realization made her feel lightheaded, though the next brought her sufficiently back to earth, I named my daughters Gadget and Doohickey?

-to be continued...

[ksharbaugh]

Chapter Five: The Liar Standing Before Her

As midday crawled on into the afternoon the hastily assembled search parties began to retire. The teams returned home earlier after each attempt, the effort required looking more wasteful with each failure. Attempts on Gadget and Dee’s part to organize the search into a more efficient and potentially fruitful venture came to naught as the increasing sense of despair had already made up people’s minds. Aside from having been informed that there was never any evidence of natural predation, the sisters were as clueless as when they joined the hunt. Seeing the Dirksons return towards town in tears, Gadget and Dee threw in the towel, at least for the time being. They were nearly back to the inn, discussing what methods the Rangers could incorporate once the rest were brought in, when they were addressed directly by a squirrel quickly approaching them.

“Excuse me, ladies,” the tall rodent called to them, “A moment of your time, please.” Once all three were stopped and close enough to speak comfortably, he continued, “You are Gadget and Doohickey, correct?” The mice in question assented. “I’m Derrick Fellow, what you could consider the mayor of this community...”

Before he could continue further, Gadget burst in, “Really? Then I’d like to formally offer the assistance of the Rescue Rangers in resolving the crisis that is plaguing the populace. We can get the rest of the team in here in just a few days.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Derrick bluntly replied. Seeing the astonished expressions his response evoked, he clarified his position, “It’s not that we wouldn’t want your help, but it’s been brought to my attention that people are uncomfortable with strangers going around asking questions, especially at a time like this. Some, out of frustration, may be all too eager to start assigning guilt, and I’ve already heard about the two of you being spoken of in less than pleasant terms. Frankly, there’s no way I can guarantee your safety. The best thing for both of you would be to leave and not return for some time.”

The suggestion was at the same time both confusing and insulting. “But, we only want to help,” Gadget countered.

“And I thank you both for the offer,” Derrick replied anxiously, “But not everyone may be willing to believe that. Please, things are bad enough, I don’t want to see innocent people get hurt.”

“Maybe we should leave,” Gadget suggested to her sister, not wanting to be the cause of any trouble. “We’d just like to say goodbye to someone at the inn before we go,” she explained. It was the last thing she wanted to do, having come this close to possibly finding her mother. But personal matters had to take a back seat to her responsibilities, and for Gadget, being the unintentional cause of public disorder would be quite irresponsible for a Rescue Ranger.

“Actually, I think you should leave now,” Derrick pressed. The source that had alerted him to the potential for trouble had made it clear that such trouble was brewing at the inn. Given the circumstances, the best course of action was to keep Gadget and Dee as far from there as possible.

His suggestion did not go over well with Dee. “It took us two days to get here just to meet one person and then barely have a minute to speak with her,” she argued loudly, “and considering the remote possibility that she could be our mother... To tell us to leave without giving us a chance to tell her how she can get in touch with us or at least say goodbye is nothing short of idiocy!”

“I don’t want trouble,” Derrick sternly replied, hoping the increasing number of people drawn to the argument would discourage it’s occurrence.

There was no way Dee could legitimize leaving. Neither she or her sister had done anything wrong, they had not been given any tangible reason to believe they were actually in any danger and, though she would have been embarrassed to admit it just two hours before, she was beginning to suspect her mother was indeed waiting for her back at the inn. To top it off, someone of questionable courage had not only blocked her path but had challenged her. Standing practically chest to chest with Derrick, even though it meant nearly having to look up his nose given their respective heights, Dee countered, “Maybe I want trouble.”

Gadget quickly intervened to head off that trouble. “Dee!” she whispered harshly, pulling her sister aside, “This isn’t the time or the place!” Remembering how Dee had undermined a previous attempt on her part to avert a fight the previous year, Gadget kept a firm grip on her sister’s arm to discourage her from taking a swing at Derrick.

Dee glared at Gadget for a few minutes, sizing up both the situation and her sister’s resolve. Gadget’s expression conveyed a measure of conviction she hadn’t anticipated. Dee realized Gadget was right, it was neither the time or the place, least of all for a fight with her own sister. “Fine,” she growled, making sure her concession was quiet enough for only her sister to hear. Gadget released her sister and allowed her to move off towards the Ranger Wing, though she made a point to immediately position herself between Derrick and Dee in the event the concession was less than sincere.

As they proceeded past the informal boundaries of the community, Dee looked back over her shoulder. “I can’t believe you,” she grumbled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Gadget asked indignantly.

“We get this close to finding our mother,” Dee began, finally acknowledging her own conversion in the matter, “Offer to help people in need, and you let us be run off like a couple of children!”

“We’re going to return,” Gadget confirmed, trying to sooth her sister’s bruised ego, “They may not want our help but they’re going to get it. We just have to get the others here.”

“And what if Samantha winds up missing while we’re gone?” Dee challenged, “Do you really want to risk losing our mother?”

As the sisters stopped to argue, an unnoticed hunting party took advantage of their preoccupation with each other. By the time they realized they were in danger their attackers already had the upper hand.

Back at the Kummon Inn, Samantha anxiously awaited the return of her daughters. One by one, those who had left the inn to aid in the search returned. They were soon joined by others looking to commiserate another loss among their neighbors. Gadget and Dee were not among them. Concerned, Samantha began asking if others had seen them. It was not long until a recent arrival related having witnessed their confrontation with Mr Fellow. “They’re leaving?!” she asked in utter disbelief.

“He said he felt they were in danger of being blamed for what’s been going on,” she was informed.

“That’s absurd!” Samantha replied.

“No, it isn’t,” Terry joined in, gently pulling his love aside, “Outsiders are usually the first to wind up being scapegoated by an outraged public.”

“Outraged?” one of the locals asked, “I hardly think we’re that bad. Who are we supposed to be outraged at anyway?”

Terry was about to dissuade further random discussion on the matter when another joined in. “Those two girls Derrick threw out,” the patron pointed out, “I think Terry told Fellow something bad about them ‘cause I saw them talkin’ while I was rounding up others to join the search.”

Desperate for any explanation for why her best chance at recovering her past had just vanished, Samantha turned to Terry with wondering eyes. He couldn’t ignore the increasing desperation he found there, nor his own guilt, and involuntarily looked away. “What did you tell him?” Samantha asked.

Refusing to look her in the eyes, he replied, stammering, “I-I told him people were suspicious of them, th-that they might get blamed for the... disappearances.”

“Where did you get that idea?” Samantha queried further. Terry opened and closed his mouth several times, hoping an excuse would spontaneously arise. “What is it?!” Samantha demanded.

“I-I was afraid I was going to lose you!” Terry confessed, “I thought they were going to take you away from me!”

Samantha stared at the mouse she once thought she knew. She remembered how he would tell his old traveling companions to ask about her when they left on their adventures. How he was always right there to help with a heavy load when her shoulder bothered her. How his shoulder was always there when the pain of not even being certain of her own name brought her to tears. How he told her that anyone as special as her must have family out there moving heaven and earth in their efforts to find her. Then there was the liar standing before her. The traitor that had singlehandedly destroyed her hopes solely for his own desires. The coward that couldn’t even look her in the eyes. “Y-you,” Samantha stammered, struggling to find her voice. “HOW COULD YOU?!” she hollered.

In Samantha’s paw she still held the paper the Sisters had left her, she had wanted to show it to Gadget and Dee, to show them that even as she clung to life they were still foremost in her thoughts. She thrust the paper angrily in Terry’s face. “See this?!” she yelled, tears beginning to cascade down her cheeks, “You know these words?! The words nobody could figure out?! Thingamabob, gadget and doohickey?! THEY’RE NAMES!! THE NAMES OF MY CHILDREN!!” Practically sobbing, Samantha gestured at the door as she continued, “Gadget and Doohickey came here looking for me! And you drove them away!” She was so close. After five years she couldn’t let this opportunity escape. Turning from Terry, Samantha left for the door. She knew there was no guarantee she could catch Gadget and Doohickey, she didn’t even know which way they’d left, but there was no way she could tolerate staying where she was.

[ksharbaugh]

-Chapter Five continued...

“Samantha, don’t leave!” Terry called after her, hoping desperately he could explain himself, that somehow he could apologize for what he’d done. When she disappeared up the stairs he ran after her.

Once outside the inn, Samantha had to make her choice. Which way to go? They said she was supposedly lost during a flood... so she must have been carried downstream. The closest thing to a river anywhere nearby was the Allegheny Reservoir, and upstream of that was north. That was it, she’d head north following the reservoir until she found a community that knew of anyone named Thingamabob, Gadget or Doohickey. How many places could there possibly be that would have siblings with those kinds of names?

“Samantha!” Terry called after her, “I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“You mean by lying to me, by keeping me prisoner here?!” the angry matron hollered back, “By trying to keep me as your pet?!”

Terry ran up behind Samantha and grabbed her arm. Turning about, she grabbed his wrist and yanked his paw from her arm. Squeezing as hard as she could, Samantha snarled, “Don’t you dare touch me!”

He was completely unprepared for just how strong Samantha was, and once she continued off towards the edge of town Terry nursed his sore wrist. “You can’t go off on your own!” he called out, “It’s too dangerous!” There was no answer as she continued her march. He couldn’t just let her go. This was his fault. There would be no way he could forgive himself if something happened to her now... and no way he could face the town again. Samantha may not have wanted a traveling companion, but she was getting one. However, he reasoned keeping a good distance back would be a wise course of action.

As Terry made an effort to keep up with Samantha he was finding it increasingly difficult to keep her in sight. Then, he lost track of her altogether. As he considered calling out for her, realizing it was highly unlikely that she’d answer, he heard movement behind him. Hoping Samantha had somehow doubled back and came up behind him he quickly turned about. But it wasn’t Samantha, nor anyone else he knew. There was very little time to study the stranger’s features, though, as he was promptly knocked unconscious.

-to be continued...

[ksharbaugh]

Chapter Six: A Little Case of Spunk

The sensation of water droplets pelting her face in a sudden burst caused Gadget to awake with a start. She could feel a hard surface beneath her feet and two strong paws clutching her arms, holding her upright, at least until she was firmly standing on her own. As she tried to wipe the water from her face she became aware of the shackles on her wrists. Gadget recalled the last time she was in shackles, and the thug responsible, which meant the squat ugly rodent standing in front of her was hardly out of place. “Rat Capone!” she stated bluntly.

“Ah, I see my fame precedes me!” the diminutive rat replied in his raspy speech.

“Actually it’s your telltale hospitality,” Gadget corrected, “But what are you doing in the Allegheny National Forest?”

“Can’t a hardworking businessrat take a vacation?” Capone responded rhetorically.

“Sure, but that still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here,” Gadget replied innocuously.

“Funny,” her captor offered sarcastically before moving on.

Gadget looked around and surmised they were in an abandoned sewer system, she assumed left over from the human mining town. Near one of the walls were orderly piles of construction materials, no doubt intended for whatever use her captor had planned. In the other wall were two cell doors, one through which Gadget could see several rodents sitting despondently in rows, through the other she could see rodents chained to various workbenches. Close to Capone were his ever present lackeys, the freakishly large yet slow witted Arnold Mousenegger and his smarter and wiry comrade Sugar Ray Lizard. To Gadget’s right she saw three other captives held in the same manner as herself. Samantha and Terry she recognized, but the young girl, Gadget determined, must be the Dirkson’s child that had disappeared earlier. To her left was Dee, still unconscious... that is until Rat Capone flicked water on her face from the bowl he was carrying.

“Blech!” was all Dee could say upon seeing the mobster for the first time.

“Now-now, that’s no way to speak to your new employer,” Capone admonished her.

“Employer?” Gadget asked.

“Yeah, you’ve all been drafted into my workforce,” Capone explained.

“Then I quit,” Dee stated lightly.

“You wouldn’t want to do that,” Capone replied just as lightly, “That would mean giving up our generous health package. Unless you’d like your severance pay.”

“Which is?” Dee asked.

“That’s where I sever your head from your body!” Capone answered before chuckling to himself.

“Heh, good one boss!” Sugar Ray said as he joined in the laughter.

“Yeah, good one!” Arnold concurred with his own laughter.

“Quiet!” Capone shouted, throwing the contents of the water bowl at his lackeys, “I didn’t say you could laugh!”

“Sorry, boss,” they replied in unison.

“What is it we’re supposed to be doing?” Gadget asked.

“You and your ‘coworkers’ will be making weapons, see?” Capone proceeded to explain, “Some of the weapons will be sold to hire more muscle and the rest will be used to arm them. Then, when I’ve got enough muscle, I’m gonna ventilate that bloated hairball Fat Cat. Then I can be the sultan of the city!”

A tall mouse wearing a grey suit with matching fedora walked up to Capone. “What do you think of today’s haul?”

“Your people do good work,” Capone replied approvingly, “Five in one day’s a new record.”

“Likes I told ya’, my boys is da best,” the mouse boasted.

“Well worth their cost in cheese and jewels,” Capone commented, surveying the new additions. “These two can go to work in the third shift,” he stated in reference to Samantha and Terry. Eying Gadget and Dee, he explained, “If I’m going to be a sultan, I’m going to be needing a harem. So whattaya say girls? Stick with me and you’ll be living in the lap of luxury!”

“Will we get to wear those gauzy veils and poofy pants?” Dee asked excitedly, much to the surprise of the other captives.

“Anything you want, doll face,” Capone intoned happily.

Dee’s gleeful demeanor darkened quickly as she sneered at her captor. “Then give me a fur coat made of your hide!” she replied.

“So, you’ve got some spunk,” Capone realized. Gadget knew what was coming next and rolled her eyes as she silently mouthed the declaration with him, “I hate spunk!” After a moment of thought, he decided, “Maybe working second and third shift will take some of the spunk out of you.” Turning his attentions to Gadget, he continued, “I’ve never been all that fond of brunettes anyway. After all, blonds have more fun, don’t you agree?”

Gadget’s answer was swift and to the point, “Only if you let me dance on your windpipe.”

“Looks like you’ll be having some company on your double shift, doll face,” Capone remarked to Dee. “Now what have we here?” he asked as he went down the line to where the young girl was standing. “Looks like a moll in the making,” Capone stated as he reached out to touch her chin. With a frightened squeak the girl tried to back away, only to be firmly placed back in line by the rat standing behind her. “And not a hint of spunk,” was Capone’s approving assessment.

Just hearing the words ‘moll in the making’ caused Dee’s fur to bristle. Gadget could hear her sister grinding her teeth in answer to the child’s fearful cry. Ever since becoming a mother all too early, Dee could never tolerate harm befalling a child. Her maternal outrage was building, all that was needed was a spark to cause the raven haired powder keg to explode.

“With a little gentle persuasion she can be a first class moll,” Capone thought aloud, “Take her to my personal suite.”

That was it. Her rage reaching a point where common sense was left far behind, Dee charged at Capone without the slightest concern for the fact that she was heavily outnumbered. She had the chains of her shackles around his neck before the mobster or his minions had time to react. Knocking Capone’s legs out from under him, Dee flung her opponent to the ground where she continued to throttle him. Gadget joined in the unfolding chaos by leaning forward and swinging a leg behind her. Just as she had calculated, it impacted squarely between the legs of the thug standing there. Taking quick aim, she was also able to kick out the left knee of the thug that had been standing next to her first victim and who was trying to grab her. However, Gadget’s second attack gave Sugar Ray time to move in and he tackled her before she could steady herself.

Arnold was trying desperately to free his boss from Dee’s assault. Unable to grasp the full complexity of the situation, he simply tried to pull Dee off of Capone. It didn’t work. So he tried shaking her loose. Dee, obsessed with strangling the life out of the licentious maggot beneath her, kept the chain taught about Capone’s neck. As a result, however hard Arnold shook Dee, Capone had little choice but to go along for the ride. Given their relative positions, this meant that Rat Capone was being strangled with all of Dee’s strength while simultaneously being pounded into the ground with all of Arnold’s might. Fortunately for Capone, two other rats with far more on the ball intervened. Each grabbing one of Dee’s arms they were able to pry her loose.

“Thanks for nothin’, dummy!” Capone croaked at Arnold as he rose to his feet. “Whose idea was it to chain d’ese yahoos with there paws up front?” he called out to his lackeys and assorted mercenaries.

“Da locals showed no inclination towards hostile behavior,” the mercenary leader explained, “and since they was to be put to work wit there paws in front, that’s how we prepares them for delivery.”

“Well we won’t be having any more of that,” Capone declared, “Until they’re ready for their shifts, have ‘em chained up from behind.”

[ksharbaugh]

-Chapter Six continued...

“You heard da boss,” the lead mercenary called to his flunkies, “Switch ‘em around d’en throw ‘em in da clink.”

No sooner had Gadget and Dee had one of their paws freed from their chains than they took full advantage of the situation. In near perfect concert, both mice plunged their incisors into one of the paws of the guards handling them. Now each having a free paw they grabbed their guards by the other arm and swung them about till they collided with each other. As Gadget bolted for a pile of construction material to locate a potential weapon her sister immediately charged after Capone.

Out of one of the piles Gadget pulled a metal rod that she quickly put to use as a quarterstaff. The thug nearest her was soon doubled over from a blow to his mid section. The next two, having finished securing Samantha and Terry, advanced on Gadget but made a point to keep a safe distance from her.

Unlike their previous encounter, Capone saw his assailant coming and was better able to defend himself. Yet, Dee was still able to get the upper hand and wrestled the gangster to the ground. “Somebody get this crazy broad off a’ me!” Capone called out.

“I’ll help ya’!” Arnold offered running over.

“Not you, y’lunk head!” Capone responded, desperately trying to keep Dee from getting an arm around his neck.

Not wanting to get too close to the flailing limbs, Sugar Ray relied on his tail to come to the aid of his beleaguered boss. Slipping his serpentine tail about Dee’s neck he was able to distract her enough for Capone to get loose. Finding her paws free, the mouse grabbed hold of the lizard’s appendage, planted her feet, and made her best effort to fling him against the nearest wall. However, Sugar Ray’s unique physique came to his rescue as his tail popped off. Unknowingly exerting far more force than necessary, Dee lost her footing and fell over with a flourish. Before she could right herself, Sugar Ray pounced on her and soon had completed the task of securing her paws behind her.

While her sister had been separately engaged, Gadget continued fending off two opponents with her staff. However, focusing on those two allowed the mercenary mouse to move in from behind. Hooking one arm around her neck and a leg around one of hers he was able to fling Gadget to the ground. Swooping down on the blond he was able to successfully secure her paws.

Brushing the dust and other assorted crud from his suit, Capone surveyed the results of Gadget and Dee’s combined efforts. At least half a dozen full sized rats were departing (either under their own power or being carried away) to recuperate in one of the side tunnels, and, more disturbingly, previously captured locals were crowding about the cell doors in clear amazement at how much damage was done by just two broads who dared defy his authority. The former is what bothered him more than anything, the last thing he wanted was for the other captives to get any ideas.

Motioning to the guards holding Dee and Gadget to bring them over, Capone decided it was time to set an example. “You two are more trouble than you’re worth,” he explained to the ladies, “All of that spunk just earned you both a one way trip to see Saint Peter.” Turning to the mercenary leader he commanded, “I want you to make an example of these two.”

“Can the boys have a little fun with ‘em first?” he inquired.

“I don’t care, just as long as they ain’t breathing when I get back,” Capone clarified as he departed. The events of the past couple minutes had left him with a splitting headache, and as much as he wanted to watch Gadget and Dee get dispatched he had to lay down.

-to be continued...

[ksharbaugh]

Chapter Seven: The Door to Her Past

“If we’re going to make an example we’d better do it right,” the mouse in charge of Capone’s mercenaries declared. Giving a quick whistle, he alerted the two rats that weren’t keeping Gadget and Dee detained, those being the only other two remaining. “Get a couple a’ knives from the armory and start lining up the other prisoners,” he commanded as he drew his own knife from his shoulder scabbard, “We want to make sure they all get the message.” Once properly armed, the two guards opened the cell doors and ordered out the captive rodents. “Not a bad seat in the house,” the mercenary leader smirked as his lieutenants finished positioning their captive audience.

With everyone in place, the mouse in the suit and fedora spoke up, “Alright, I want you all to pay attention! What youse is gonna see here is a little demonstration of what happens to anybody that crosses Rat Capone.” Turning to the rats holding Gadget and Dee, he commanded, “Ok, boys, do your thing.”

In the time leading up to their intended execution, both Gadget and Dee had worked out strategies necessary to thwart the effort for as long as possible. As a result, the rats met a surprising level of resistance from the bound beauties. However, the girls’ position and the relative disparity in size and strength to their assailants began to take it’s toll. Being slammed into the ground in the effort to soften her up Dee caught sight of the other captives. Many were gawking at the predicament she and her sister were in while others refused to look, but one stuck out more than any other. Aching from head to toe and with exhaustion setting in, from deep within, a terrified child, one she had forgotten was always hiding in the shadow of her bravado and pride, cried out in desperation, “Mom! Help!”

Like a key sliding into a lock, the plea drove deep into Samantha’s subconscious. As the tumblers fell into place, the lock was rendered null and the door to her past flew open. Her name wasn’t Samantha, it was Amanda... and there, in the flood of memories, she saw them. The little infant with big blue eyes and wisps of golden hair that would nurse on Mommy’s tools and squealed with wordless glee when she discovered what a gear did, the baby she had to walk away from never knowing if she’d see her again. The black haired and brown eyed tomboy forced to grow up too soon but willing to face her new responsibilities, the broken hearted daughter she cried with when she had to say goodbye to her own children. But now two heartless thugs were laughing at the prospect of doing unspeakable things to her babies, one of whom was crying for help. That would not stand. Not as long as there was an once of blood in her veins or a single breath in her lungs.

Amanda, nearly half a century old, strained against her shackles. Logic and common sense would have told her that it was a futile effort, but logic and common sense were finding no sympathetic ear. Even her almost unnaturally high pain threshold, a characteristic all her young had inherited, was being pushed beyond it’s limits. Her muscles and tendons begged and cried for her to stop, but Amanda’s heart cried ‘never’! From one paw to the other, across her chest, it felt as if she were being engulfed in flames as the metal shackles seemed to dispassionately ignore her struggle. But pain and shackles be damned, her children needed her!

With a ‘tic’ the weak link failed it’s brethren. All in all, the sound of Amanda’s arms sailing through the air, freed from their artificial restraint, made more noise. For that matter, so did the gasps of the captives who witnessed her feat. The mouse who led the mercenaries who’d shanghaied the mass made the mistake of dismissing the gasps as those born of despair, not surprise. Had he not made this mistake and turned to verify the cause of the crowds’ reaction he might have had time to intercept Amanda before she’d laid her paws on the metal rod her eldest daughter had been using earlier. Not that his subordinates were of any more help, being so preoccupied by the ‘show’ that they didn’t see the activity until the eventual cry of “Hey boss!” came too late for him to defend himself. As it was, he turned just in time to get a very good look at the business end of the crude yet effective weapon that was to put his lights out.

One down, four to go. Amanda charged the guard that had tried to warn his leader. His knife didn’t concern her. She had calculated the combined length of her arm and weapon and the comparative length of her opponent’s arm and weapon and found that matters were in her favor, especially given that her weapon could deliver the greatest kinetic force at it’s far end. The rat didn’t make that conclusion until it was too late. His compatriot, who had been racing to assist, learned from his very painful mistake. Unfortunately, by the time the lesson hit home his forward momentum had led him right into batting range, and Amanda was already taking her swing. He stopped. He was tensing his muscles to make a desperate leap back. But he didn’t quite make it in time.

With the three thugs who were in the best position to stop her taking forcibly imposed naps, Amanda’s way was clear. Once more catching sight of her children vainly struggling against their fetters, her maternal rage again reached a fever pitch. “LET GO OF MY GIRLS, YOU BASTARDS!” she hollered as she charged the brutes. A brief moment of indecision was all it took for the first of the last two rats to fall victim to Amanda’s assault. Having seen his colleague go down from a blow to the head, the other immediately used his arms to shield his own when he saw the mouse prepare to strike. Doing so, however, left his sides vulnerable, an opening his attacker took full advantage of. Then, as the rat doubled over in agony, Amanda brought her staff above her head and brought it down on his upper back with such force that she was lifted from her feet.

“Lock-pick!” Dee gasped, “Top left pocket!”

Amanda immediately set to work freeing her girls. First Dee, having been the closest, then Gadget. In an almost autonomic reflex, Amanda handed the diminutive implement back to her youngest without having to look back. Dee snatched the lock-pick and, re-energized by the tangible hope of freedom, sprinted over to the other captives to loose their chains. Before Gadget could retrieve her own pick and join in the effort she caught her mother’s gaze, then was the recipient of an embrace that was twenty-eight long years overdue. “I missed you!” Amanda cried, “I missed you!”

“Mom, this can wait,” Gadget protested, being freed of her mother’s arms, “We have to get out of here!” Looking about, she spotted the exit... and the heavy iron grate that blocked it. “There has to be a way to open it,” Gadget thought aloud.

Looking over the series of pulleys and counterweights affixed to the gate, Amanda spied a cable running the length of the chamber along the ceiling. “There’s the lever!” she pointed out, having located the cable’s terminus near the entrance of one of the side tunnels.

“You get that,” Gadget called out, “I’ll help free the other prisoners.”

Mother and daughter immediately set about their respective duties. While Gadget helped alleviate Dee’s load of anxious prisoners seeking release, Amanda made for the lever to open the gate. Peering down the near tunnel she checked for any of Capone’s lackeys that might have been coming to investigate the ruckus she’d caused. The coast was clear so she threw the lever. Doing so, however, made her staff-swinging rampage sound like a quiet evening. The creaking of the iron hinges echoed throughout the tunnels as chains attaching it to the counterweights clanked and rumbled. The vibrations alone were enough to shake dust and other materials loose from the ceiling and walls. Once the gate had swung inward enough to allow escape, the former prisoners poured out, the soon to be freed increasingly anxious that the noise would alert their captors. Fearing intrusion as much as the others, Amanda quickly retrieved the metal staff and was preparing to buy them time.

[ksharbaugh]

-Chapter Seven continued...

“Can’t a guy sleep off a headache around here?” Capone grumbled as he left his quarters. “Would youse lugs knock it off?!” he shouted as he walked in on the escape, “What the...?”

Amanda, who had been distracted checking on the progress of the deshackling, spotted Capone as he stood in the tunnel entrance. She realized she couldn’t get close enough to knock him cold on foot before he could call for assistance, so she hurled the staff like a javelin hoping for a head shot.

Capone, however, had not lived as long as he had by just standing around and promptly dropped to the floor like a lead weight. “Sugar Ray! Mousenegger!” he called to his flunkies, “Get out here!”

Unlocking the last few shackles, Dee called to her mother, “C’mon, Mom, let’s go!” Amanda immediately rushed to join the others.

Capone wasn’t about to let go of his captives so easily and rushed to get to the lever. “Oh no you don’t,” he muttered as she yanked the lever down. As it happens, the gate was far more swift falling into place than being pulled open.

Amanda dropped to all fours in her effort to beat the gate. In her haste, however, she had forgotten about her left shoulder. The Sisters that had treated her five years earlier had told her that her shoulder had been dislocated and likely endured further aggravation before they’d found her. She’d been warned not to push her left arm too much. Breaking loose from her shackles and clubbing five gangsters unconscious was already far more than she should have expected of her left arm, but using it as a foreleg to run full speed was the last straw. In the instant she put serious weight on her left arm she crumbled to the floor, tumbling to an ungraceful stop.

On instinct, both Dee and Gadget turned back to assist, only to be knocked back over half a foot by the gate slamming shut. The sisters quickly righted themselves and raced back to the gate. Together they tried forcing it open. They were soon joined by Terry, having turned back after realizing Amanda wasn’t with the others. Gadget, thinking more clearly on the matter than Dee, realized the futility of using muscle power alone. “It’s no good,” she pointed out, immediately trying to concoct a mechanical means of assistance. Dee kept pushing. Terry simply stood clutching the bars, silently condemning himself.

“Get moofing!” Amanda hollered to Terry and her daughters, fearing their recapture. As Arnold pulled her off the floor, she repeated her command, “Go!”

Reluctantly accepting the situation, Dee called out the promise, “We’re coming back!” before joining her sister in their withdrawal.

Terry still stood there at the gate. In his effort to prevent losing her to a pair of strangers who might be her family he had lost her to a gang of mercenaries. “I’ll return,” he whispered before departing.

-to be continued...

[ksharbaugh]

Chapter Eight: Escalation

Once they were sure they had reached a locale where they could rest and prepare a rescue attempt without interruption from Capone’s thugs, Gadget and Dee halted their withdrawal. Not long after they had sat down they were startled by the sound of movement. Their concern was quickly dismissed when they recognized that it was Terry. As he scampered past without the slightest pause, Dee hollered after him, “Yeah, go ahead and run you coward!”

“I hardly think that was called for!” Gadget chastised her sister.

“Everybody in that town’s gutless,” Dee grumbled in response, “Something was picking them off one by one and they couldn’t even come up with a primitive means of communal defense... They couldn’t even create organized search parties! And when people actually offer to help they throw that offer away!”

“Not everyone can come from a militaristic culture,” Gadget attempted to explain, “And Fellow was probably just concerned about us getting hurt.”

“O’dah!” Dee shot back, “He thought our help would require him and the others to take risks and he didn’t have the courage to face up to it. He was perfectly willing to hide in a hole and let his community continue to live in fear rather than make the kind of hard decisions a real leader has to make!”

Realizing her sister was in no mood to try to see the other side of the issue, Gadget chose to bring up a more relevant matter of discourse. “We’d better start planning on how to get Mom free,” she pointed out. “If the sewage system here follows the typical plan for a small village of what I assume was from the mid to late 1800's,” Gadget proceeded, sketching a plan in dirt, “There should be multiple access points from further up the slope we’re on. Capone may not have all of them secured and we can sneak in with little notice.”

“We should be armed, though,” Dee interjected, “If Capone or the mercenaries he’s hired have a brain in their heads they’ll have patrols going through the near tunnels if for no other reason than to deal with intrusive local species, snakes and such, and we’re bound to run into any such patrols.”

“That makes sense,” Gadget nodded, “But in that case we’ll have to move quickly. We’ll want to get back out before the patrols we’ve disabled wake back up.”

“We should take them out,” Dee stated coldly.

“What do you mean ‘take them out’?” Gadget inquired, more than a little concerned by the possibility.

“Eliminate them,” was Dee’s simple and emotionless response.

Gadget’s blood ran cold. “You mean kill them?” she asked.

“We don’t know what we’ll run into after we get past any patrols so there’s no way we can logically expect to be in and out before a knocked out patrol wakes back up,” Dee explained, “The chance of being trapped between two groups of hostiles is too great.”

“We could tie them up,” Gadget pointed out.

“And they could get loose,” Dee replied, “If we had more people we could leave some behind to detain them, but there’s only two of us. The only way to ensure a safe withdrawal is to leave our rear area free of hostiles.”

Gadget was concerned by how calmly her sister was talking about taking the lives of others, as if it was as pedestrian as changing her clothes. “This isn’t a war,” she explained.

“Where were you when Capone was explaining he was massing an army?” Dee asked rhetorically, losing patience with her sister’s apparent naivete, “People will die,” she stressed, “Either now or later... Better it be greedy mercenaries than the innocents that’ll get caught in the crossfire of Capone’s gang war, or our mother.”

“We can’t just go around killing people!” Gadget exclaimed, “We’re supposed to be Rescue Rangers!”

“Will you grow up?!” Dee retaliated, “If you’d look at the matter logically you’d see there’s no other viable option.”

“Where do you get off talking about logic?” Gadget fired back indignantly, “Violence seems to be your default solution to everything! The way Capone originally had us detained we could have escaped whenever we wanted to, but you had to go and lose your temper like a... a... hockey player!”

“Well excuse me for wanting to protect a child from a grotesque, degenerate fiend!” increasingly consumed by the verbal conflict she allowed herself to be pulled into, due in no small part to her own combative tendencies, Dee became fixated on achieving victory... regardless of the tactics, “Or do you Rescue Rangers think it’s acceptable to sacrifice children in the name of your ideals? ‘Sorry, can’t save a child from unspeakable torment, people might get hurt!’”

Dee’s off-color effort to shame her into grudging agreement had gone too far and Gadget tried to make that abundantly clear by reeling back and giving her sister a nice hard slap. Only after the fact did she realize that a physical rejoinder would almost certainly be interpreted as an escalation by her sister. Indeed, the instant the impact registered, Dee wasted not a moment of conscious thought on how she should respond. In that same short space of time Gadget realized an apology might be the only way to reintroduce sanity to the matter, but Dee’s fist was already well on it’s way before an apology could be made.

A nearly festive atmosphere prevailed at the inn when Terry finally arrived. While families had been reunited and underappreciated friends welcomed with inordinate gusto, they were all unaware that someone had been left behind. Standing up on a chair, Terry called out to the crowd, “Everybody! We have to go back!” The response was greeted with many a raised eyebrow and confused stare. “Samantha’s still being held captive!”

“I’m sorry,” someone offered, “But I don’t think one person is worth the risk.”

“We barely got out of there ourselves,” another pointed out.

Terry countered, “We wouldn’t have gotten out of there at all if it wasn’t for that one person!”

“You’re a nice guy, Terry, and I liked Samantha,” a nearby mouse joined in, “But do you really think we’d be any match for an army of armed mercenaries? That’s ludicrous!”

Terry was growing increasingly frustrated at the prevailing attitude of the community. “What’s ludicrous is that none of you have the courage to fight back and repay someone for their sacrifice!” he shouted back.

“Now that we know why people were disappearing we can take real steps to prevent it from happening again,” came another objection.

“The only guarantee of that is to go back and stop them!” Terry explained, “and Samantha’s daughters are willing to go back!”

“That’s just because they’re family,” a voice piped up, “None of them come from here, they’re not our family, they’re not related to anybody here, and besides, that army’s going to be used against this Fat Cat person, not us. It’s not our fight. If Samantha’s daughters want to get themselves killed then it’s their funeral!”

He had finally had enough. Terry jumped down from the chair upon which he stood, picked up by it’s back and lifted it above his head. With all the force he could bring to bear, he smashed the chair into the table before him. The people nearest him jumped back in shock as the chair virtually exploded. Brandishing one of the chairs legs like a club, Terry shouted, “Then it’ll be my funeral! Somebody from here is involved, and if none of you can bring yourselves to take a stand then it’s your shame!”

As the innkeeper left the hall, someone commented, “At least he’s had a full life.”

Terry was nearly back to where he’d fled Capone’s lair when his ears detected the sounds of a scuffle. The possibility that Capone’s thugs might be involved flashed through his head. However, the voices he heard seemed a little high-pitched for mercenaries. Coming about a tree he discovered the source of the commotion. Both his love’s daughters were on the ground fighting like mortal enemies, and from the appearance, it seemed the blond was winning. Rolling on top of Dee, Gadget managed to get her in a headlock. Dee immediately reached back and grasped whatever she could get her paws on, which happened to be an ear and a fistful of hair.

“If the two of you are done,” Terry addressed the sisters, “Maybe we should go rescue your mother.” Both ladies stopped dead in their fight and slowly looked up, neither letting go of the other just yet.

“Terry! Wait up!” they heard someone call out. Catching up to the innkeeper, one of the locals arrived on the scene clutching a crude weapon of his own. Then another appeared... and another. Soon a small army of locals had congregated around Terry and the sisters.

Looking at the weapons the others were wielding, Terry asked, “Those, uh, my furniture?”

“Used to be,” someone replied sheepishly, “We’ll help replace them later.”

Gadget and Dee looked at each other, in as much as their respective positions would let them. “You know,” Dee began, “Maybe we can do it your way.”

-to be continued...

[ksharbaugh]

Chapter Nine: Rescue and Reunion

“That should keep you from getting loose again,” Capone commented as he placed the second of two new pairs of shackles on Amanda’s wrists. “I’d put you right to work but there’s got to be at lest two of you to actually get things going,” he pointed out, leading her over to the now deserted holding cell, “So you get to rest up awhile.” After pushing the matron into the empty room and securing the door, Capone turned to his lackeys, “Mousenegger, make sure she doesn’t get out.”

“Right, boss,” the oversized mouse replied as he took his place by the door.

Amanda set herself upon a stool, one of the few pieces of furniture to be found in her prison. It was apparent by the smell that there was only the most rudimentary of sanitation available. Looking about the burrowed out cavity she found little that could help occupy her mind... sometimes having a mind-bashingly high IQ could be a curse. With little else to ponder, she started thinking about the inevitable attack she knew her daughters were planning. Is there anything I can do to help from in here? she wondered. There wasn’t much around her... except her guard. A big, slow witted guard. Amanda smiled broadly as a plan presented itself. “Your name’s Mousenegger?” she asked.

“Yeah, Arnold Mousenegger,” came the proud reply.

“Could you do me a fafor, Arnold?” Amanda inquired politely.

“Uh, I guess,” was the cautious response.

“I’d really like it if you’d braid my hair for me,” she explained, “Do you know how to braid hair?”

“Um, yea... no,” was Arnold’s eventual response.

“That’s ok,” Amanda laughed disarmingly, “I’ll give you instructions.” Once Arnold had entered the cell, she added, “You might want to close the door so no one thinks you let me escape.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Arnold reasoned, closing the door behind him.

“And be careful not to lock yourself inside,” Amanda offered, “We don’t want your boss yelling at you again.”

“Heh, yeah!” Arnold replied with a laugh.

“He yells at you a lot doesn’t he?” the captive asked sounding a little concerned.

Arnold shrugged as he pointed out, “He yells at everybody.”

“But he seemed to be yelling at you more than the others earlier,” Amanda explained.

“Yeah,” the guard conceded.

Enough small talk for the moment, Amanda thought to herself, “Ok, Arnold, now I’ll teach you how to braid someone’s hair.” She realized her instructions would have to be very simple and easy to follow, Arnold had to have an opportunity to do well at something if the rest of her plan was going to have any impact. Fortunately, Amanda was able to use her fingers as an aid to help her ‘stylist’ to visualize what he needed to do. She was pleasantly surprised by how easily Arnold picked up on what he was supposed to be doing. “You’re doing a fery good job,” Amanda commented approvingly.

“Thanks!” Arnold replied happily.

“I don’t see why your boss needs to yell at you so much,” she added.

“He says I’m clumsy,” was Arnold’s less than cheery response, “and stupid.”

Thought so, Amanda acceded, “You can’t be all that clumsy, or stupid, if you can braid hair as well as you can. Of course we all make mistakes at times, but that’s really no reason to yell at somebody. And you always try your best, right?”

“Yeah,” Arnold agreed.

“But he still yells at you, doesn’t he?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“That doesn’t seem fery fair,” Amanda reasoned, “Sometimes things just can’t be done, so it wouldn’t be your fault if it didn’t work the way your boss thought it should. But you did your best. Does he efen say, ‘Thanks anyway’ or ‘I understand, you did your best’?”

“No,” Arnold realized.

“He just yells at you like it was your fault,” she concluded.

“And calls me names,” he added.

“That’s just not fair,” Amanda pointed out as if she really cared, “You do your best to help him and all he does is yell at you and call you names. I bet he does that efen when it’s his fault.”

“Yeah!” Arnold realized... but that realization was temporarily put on hold as another one cropped up, “Uh... I’m running out of hair.”

“Oh!” Amanda piped up, “That’s ok. Just gently tie the remaining strands in a knot and you’re done!”

“There!” Arnold proclaimed, finishing the task. “Wanna see it?” he asked excitedly.

“Sure! Just dangle it over my right shoulder,” she consented, bobbing her head to the right. “Oh, that is a fery good job!” Amanda commended as her hair was slung over her shoulder, “Especially for a first time! Thank you! You did a great job, you should be proud of yourself!”

“Thanks!” Arnold replied happily.

“Can you lean ofer so I can giff you a kiss on the cheek?” Amanda asked, “I think you deserfe it.”

“Gosh!” Arnold blushed as he leaned over to receive his reward.

“Ok,” Amanda stated after giving Arnold a little peck, “You can go back to guarding the door.” With the seed of dissent planted, her quarters no longer seemed quite so oppressive. Rat Capone was going to be caught between two fronts, the one she was sure her daughters were preparing, and the one she just opened.

“There they are,” Dee pointed out, “Right where they should be.” Obscured behind some low bushes, Gadget, Dee and several locals observed the two guards at one of the entrances to the abandoned sewer. After having spoken with those who had been captured, a fairly detailed understanding of Capone’s lair and personnel had been obtained. With a little thought and preparation, a plan of attack was worked out. The time to strike was close.

“Smoke screen fixins?” Gadget checked down her list.

“Check,” came the response from two mice carrying a sack.

“Fan?” Gadget inquired.

“Check,” was the quick response from a couple squirrels.

“Bindings?” was the next item on the list.

“Check,” came the response from a mix of locals.

“Anyone lacking a club?” was Gadget’s final question. With no answer forthcoming, she turned to her sister, “Looks like we’re ready.”

“Ok,” Dee nodded. “Uh... Bill,” she called, taking a second to remember the mouse’s name, “Go tell the girls we’re ready.” As they waited, Dee went through first steps of the plan once more.

[ksharbaugh]

-Chapter Nine continued...

It was not long before the guards’ attention was attracted by the sound of a couple girls arguing. As they emerged from behind a cluster of ferns, one of the girls, a mouse, proclaimed, “Admit it, we’re lost!”

“Only because you lost the map!” the chipmunk with her fired back.

“Hey, hey!” the mouse shouted over to the guards, “Can you guys tell us where we are?”

“You’re lost,” one of the guards joked.

“Ha ha,” the chipmunk lass responded sarcastically, bouncing over to the guards, “Really, where are we, a friend told us there was a town near here but we lost the map he gave us.”

Once the girls had successfully drawn the guards attention away from where the rest of the group was massed, Gadget and Dee leapt out from the hiding place. On cue, both girls started talking loudly to help cover the sound of the sisters’ approach. The guards never saw it coming, and once they were out of things two more locals came forward to tie up the sleeping thugs. As Gadget, Dee and the two locals hauled the guards off to the side, the two mice carrying the sack emerged.

“Leave enough room in front of the entrance for us to get in,” Gadget reminded them.

As the mice spread the contents of their sack before the entrance, the two squirrels arrived with the fan Gadget had cobbled together. Dee proceeded to set fire to the concoction she had prepared in the sack as Gadget made final adjustments to her fan. Once a good fire had started and was belching out smoke, the squirrels began applying their muscle power to the fan. With smoke billowing steadily into the tunnels, the rest of the force arrived and tied cloth over their muzzles.

“Ready?” Dee asked the assembled mass. Getting clear answers to the affirmative, she and Gadget led them in. Moving within the enveloping haze of the smoke screen, they advanced through the tunnels.

The first of Capone’s thugs was cautiously moving towards the entrance, calling out to the guards that were supposed to be there. Those awaiting his report further inside only heard him shout “We’ve got int-OOF!” Unsure of how to respond, they held their place and as the smoke grew increasingly thick, they grew increasingly anxious. Talking quietly between themselves allowed Dee to zero in on one and quickly knock him out before he could respond.

“Intruders!” his companion shouted back into the tunnels just before Gadget put his lights out. Now the force moved quicker through the old sewer, the members making sure to keep those in front of them in sight to prevent getting lost or surrounded.

Capone was roused from his quarters by the increasing ruckus and wisps of smoke trailing in. Stepping out, he could clearly make out the sound of his fledgling army trying to fight back against a force they could only barely see. A rat raced past him towards the trouble, only to get briefly pushed back by other rats and mice fleeing the commotion. “Get back here you cow-AHH!” he heard someone shout. The rat that had passed Capone promptly went back the other way.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Capone snarled as he grabbed the rat by his elbow and flung him back towards the apparent battle, just before making a break for it himself. Almost running sideways, keeping an eye out in front and behind, he made his way into the spacious cavity where he had once inspected his captives.

With the smoke dissipating in the cavernous pipe and being vented out through the iron grate, Capone could easily discern the professional muscle he had hired to round up his labor force and train his army. “Got all our payments?” called out their leader, recently recovered from his encounter with the enraged mother. What bothered Capone was that the question wasn’t directed to him.

“Them’s all the sacks, boss,” one of his lieutenants pointed out motioning to the rats behind him carrying several large bundles.

“Very well then,” was the satisfied response, “If you’ll get the door we can be on our way.”

Rat Capone simply could not believe such betrayal, especially after having paid so much. “I’m not paying youse mugs to run away!” he confronted them pointedly as the exit opened slowly.

“You’re not paying us to be your bodyguards neither,” the mouse countered.

“All right, you’ve got it,” Capone offered, “And twice what I was paying earlier.”

“Sorry, but it’s hard to spend one’s dough when yer dead or otherwise incapacitated,” the mouse replied firmly. “Should you require our services in the future you know how to reach us,” he offered, then adding when he heard another gang member go down, “provided you get outta this alive, that is.” Turning to his thugs, he called out, “Ok, boys, let us get going while the doing of such is advantageous.”

Sugar Ray came running up to Capone, preventing any effort on his part to argue with the departing help, “Hey, boss, maybe we should split too.”

“Yeah,” Capone grumbled, “Just let me get our insurance.” Pushing past Arnold, who was still manning his post, he threw open the door to Amanda’s cell. “C’mon, toots, yer gonna be my ticket outta here,” Capone explained as he grabbed his sole captive and led her out of the cell by her arm. Pulling a knife from inside his coat, he handed out some new orders, “Arnold, do something useful for a change and keep those intruders busy so me, Sugar Ray and the broad here can escape.”

“No,” Arnold responded indignantly, “Not until you start treating me with more respect.”

“What?!” Capone asked in utter disbelief. “Uh... I don’t have time for dis! Sugar R-” just as he turned to order his other ‘loyal’ lackey to cover his escape, the rat spied the lizard already disappearing into the woods without. Growling in frustration, Capone hobbled off with Amanda in tow, hoping the time he spent trying to buy time hadn’t caused him to run out of time.

“Fery good, Arnold,” Amanda called back, “Now try to surrender without a fight!”

“Ok!” the musclebound mouse agreed, waving after the friendly captive.

“Thank you!” she replied.

“Shaddup!” Capone chastised his hostage. He was feeling more confident that he might actually get away, using Amanda as a hostage much longer may not even be necessary, just until they were out of sight of any pursuers. Then a couple swift sweeps of the knife and badda-bing badda-boom , no captive to slow him down and no one to tell them which way he went. He was as good as gone, he just had to keep looking back to make sure no one was tailing him.

“Look out,” Amanda chirped happily, knowing full well the warning was too late to help her captor.

“Huh?” Capone grunted, looking ahead. He was just in time to get a detailed view of Terry’s fist.

“That was for kidnaping me!” Terry growled as Capone reeled back, letting go of his captive. “This is for terrorizing my town!” the innkeeper added with another punch. “This is for kidnaping my friends!” he added, punctuating his comment with another closed fist. “This is for kidnaping my girlfriend!” prefaced the next blow. “This is for trying to kill her daughters!” Terry added before yet another punch. “And this is because you ticked me off!” he finished off with a final blow. The innkeeper had intended to grab Capone and force him to the ground, but the gangster saved him the trouble. All the excitement and ordeals of the afternoon had taken their toll and the hardened thug collapsed against the side of the old discharge pipe and slid to the ground.

Gadget and Dee had finally made it through Capone’s lair and caught up with their mother just beyond the exit. As the group that had accompanied Terry to cut off Capone’s possible escape tied up the fallen gangster and dragged a bound Sugar Ray Lizard back, Dee, looking over the unconscious rat, whined, “But I wanted to hit him some more!”

“I’ll get those chains, Mom,” Gadget offered, retrieving her lock-pick. She couldn’t ignore the odd sensation of actually speaking to her mother in real life, nor could she ignore the growing sense of excitement.

“Wow,” Dee commented upon seeing the two pairs of shackles that her mother wore, “They weren’t taking any chances of you getting loose again, were they?”

“Makes sense considering the damage she did all by herself,” Terry remarked.

“There we go,” Gadget stated as the second set of shackles fell off, “Do you want me to get the broken pair off as well? I mean, they’re not hindering you in any way but you might not want to keep wearing something that would just remind you of being held hostage.”

Facing towards her eldest daughter, her paws held palms up, Amanda contemplated the sinister bracelets. She smiled. “I think I’ll keep them, at least for now,” Amanda concluded, “They don’t remind me so much of being a hostage, they remind me of efrything I got back.” Looking up, she couldn’t help what came next. As she put her arms around Gadget, she pointed out, “You can’t tell me there isn’t time for this now,” then added with tears forming in her eyes, “And efen if you do, I don’t care! I want to hold my baby!”

“Achully, I think I said it could wait,” Gadget corrected awkwardly, logic and emotion smashing headlong into each other as she returned the embrace, “But I know what you mean!” She added, as emotion choked her words, “I want to hold my Mommy!”

-to be continued...