-- Chapter 2: New Fears --

                    The things I believe can't all be true, though
               one of them must be. But I believe in all of them, 
               all three versions of Luke, at one and the same time.
               This contradictory way of believing seems to me, 
               right now, the only way I can believe anything. 
               Whatever the truth is, I will be ready for it.
                    This also is a belief of mine. This also may
               be untrue.

                              "The Handmaid's Tale" -- Margaret Atwood


     The front door burst in as Monterey stumbled through, looking about with a wary
eye. The rest of the Rangers, sitting on the couch, jumped a bit.
     "Monty!" Gadget called out in alarm. "What happened?"
     "Eh?" Monterey wasn't sure what she was talking about, then glanced down at
himself. He looked like he had picked a fight with street cleaner, and lost. His 
clothes were ripped and torn, he was covered with bruises and scrapes, and his 
moustache, hair, and tail were all in disarray and caked with dirt. "Oh yeah," 
he muttered, "I forgot about that."
     In his haste to check on Gadget, he had forgotten about the pounding he had
taken. Now that it was evident she was all right, his injuries reminded him that he,
on the other hand, was not. To top it off, he had ran the entire way back, so his 
breath was short and ragged. He leaned against the doorframe, trying to look casual,
so they wouldn't know that it was actually to prevent him from collapsing on the 
spot.
     Gadget jumped to his side, checking the extent of his injuries. "What happened
to you? Come on, you need to lie down."
     Chip and Dale stepped up to either side of their bruised friend and helped him
to the couch. Zipper flew off to the kitchen, returning quickly with a glass of 
water. He gave it to Monterey, then dashed off again, reappearing moments later with
some medical supplies.
     "I was bushwhacked on my way home," Monterey explained as he sipped at his
water. Gadget retrieved another glass of water, but not for drinking. She set it 
down next to the couch, soaked some gauze in it, and started to treat his cuts as 
he continued.
     "I was comin' back from the West Side Market with some groceries, when I was
attacked from a nearby alley. Some blighter got it in his head to lure me into a 
trap with him and his cronies, and almost got away with it, too." He grimaced as 
Gadget cleaned away the grime from his cuts. "Fortunately, I've tangled with ninjas
and their ilk before, so I wasn't completely taken off guard. Even better was the 
fact that I don't think they ever faced off against a street fighter, so that was 
in my favor, too."
     "Ninjas?" Chip asked. He exchanged glances with Dale and Zipper.
     "Golly, what are ninjas doing here?" Gadget finished dressing Monterey's
wounds and started to pack up the supplies when she froze. "Unless Bubbles is
out again?"
     Monterey shook his head. "No Gadget-luv, these blokes wore the traditional
black garb, not the day-glo disco colors Bubbles' gang uses."
     "Monty," Chip asked tentatively, "these ninjas, did they have any...identifying
marks?"
     "Well, I didn't stick around to check for scars or tattoos. Heck, I didn't even
bother to see what their faces looked like. Mainly because I noticed the rings they 
wore. Each one had the same insignia that was on Gadget's letter." Gadget's jaw 
dropped, but none of the others looked surprised, just worried.
     "Anyway," Monterey continued, taking another swallow from his water, "Once I
figured out the connection, I decided to get back here in a hurry, to make sure 
that they hadn't attacked or anythin'."
     "They had the same insignia?" Gadget asked again. "Are you positive?"
     Monterey nodded. "Two facing crescent moons with five stars."
     "The same one that we saw in the Yakuza's base of operations," Chip added.
     "What?!" Gadget and Monterey said simultaneously, turning to him.
     "We found out that a new gang had moved into the area." Chip sat down on the
other side of the couch. "So, after tracking down a few leads, we managed to trail 
some of them back to what looks to be a headquarters for the Yakuza. At least," he 
clarified, "for the animal underworld's branch."
     "And they had rings, too," Dale chimed in, then mumbled to himself, "although
they *could've* been married."
     Zipper flew over and settled down lightly on Monterey's stomach. But why
would they want to attack Monty? he asked with a shrug. And lure him into a trap,
no less?
     "Good question, mate," Monterey grumbled. "Too bad ninjas aren't that
talkative."
     "Well, there might be some answers in Gadget's letter..." Chip started, but
quickly explained when she shot a surprised look at him. "I'm not suggesting that 
we read it, Gadget, just that maybe there's a connection in there." He paused, 
looking at her. "Is there?"
     "Oh, well..." Gadget trailed off, then sighed. She sat down on the floor, and
was quiet for a moment before continuing. "No, not that I could see. But you guys 
can see for yourself. I was going to show it to you anyway, when I made my 
announcement."
     "Announcement?" The choral response carried an uneasy tone.
     She nodded. "I wasn't planning to tell you until later, but I guess now is a 
good a time as any." She stood back up, paused, and took a deep breath. "I'm leaving
for Japan first thing tomorrow morning."
     Everyone groaned.
     "Well, I guess we should've been expecting it." Dale sagged against the
television. "After that talk with Cheddarhead this morning and everything."
     Chip and Monterey both sadly shook their heads, but couldn't think of anything
to say.
     Zipper looked over at Gadget expectantly. You want to explain to them your
reasons? His gaze implied. Gadget blinked, surprised that Zipper seemed to know why,
but just nodded.
     "It's nothing to do with you guys." Her voice was clear and precise, just like 
her decision. "It's about me. The letter I received last night is suggesting...that,
well...." Here her determination wavered as her disbelief butted up against it, but 
she managed to force the words out. "That my father is still alive."
     Everyone was dead quiet as they slowly turned to face her.
     "I'm not saying that it's true," her voice had a slight tremor to it, "but from
what I've read, it seems a...a...." She swallowed hard. "A distinct possibility. So,
tomorrow I'm leaving to track down this guy and see what he knows about my father."
     That last statement took more out of her than she guessed, and she found 
herself quickly sitting down on the floor, so she wouldn't collapse on it.
     "Your father?" Dale managed after another infinite silence.
     "Geegaw?" Monterey couldn't help but sound hopeful.
     Gadget's smile was bittersweet. "I'm going to find out. Whether it's true or 
not, at least I'll know." She shifted until she felt her strength return, then rose
and went to her room. A moment later, she came back with the letter in one hand.
     "Um..." she looked down at it, then walked over and gently placed it on the
couch. "There you go, guys. I'll let you read it." She hoped that she seemed very 
nonchalant about the whole situation, but the truth was that she *had* to let them 
read it. If she tried to read it to them, her voice would have broke as her inner 
springs of eternal hope kept bubbling up and choking off her words.
     Monterey sat up, while Chip and Dale moved over to the other side. Zipper
lighted on the top of Chip's hat, and they all started to read as Gadget stood by 
the window with her eyes closed, soaking in the sunshine.
     The letter read:

     Dear Miss Gadget Hackwrench,

     Hello. Although you do not know me, I want to say that I feel like you are my
sister. I have heard of all of your childhood antics, all of your brilliant 
inventions, and even of your daring adventures with the Rescue Rangers. Say hello 
to Chip, Dale, Monterey, and Zipper for me, and from your father. I'm sorry, I'm 
getting ahead of myself. You must forgive me if I ramble, for I'm delighted that 
fate would allow me a chance to finally get to write you and tell you how proud your
father is of you. I have known him for many years now, and nearly every day he 
mentions you at least once. He has been like a father to me, and I have come to 
value his opinions about people. So when he goes on about you, it makes me want to 
be able to meet you even more. Sadly, this cannot be. I know you are very puzzled 
by all this, as you believe your father to be deceased. True, he did crash in the 
Pacific, and came very close to death, but he managed to fight off the Great 
Vulture and survive. I would not call him completely alive, however, as there is a 
part of him that will never be alive again until he sees you. But fate has decreed 
this not to be. Please believe me when I say that he wants nothing more than to see
you, but through a great deal of extenuating circumstances, it is not possible for 
him to leave, nor a good idea for you to try and find him. If he knew I was writing
this, he would be very upset, but if you came...well, it's too difficult to explain
in such short time. Suffice to say this letter is just to let you know about how 
proud your father has been of you. It is not meant for you to try and seek him out.
Not that he's being held here against his will. You see, your father has a very 
strong code of honor, and will not abandon his duties here, even though I tried to
convince him that they are trivial. Still, a part of me is glad that he remains, as
he is the only family I have now. But I digress. I must go now, but I felt it 
important for you to know the truth, and to know how much you mean to your father.
Your recent accomplishments as a Ranger have helped him push through these 
difficult times. Farewell, Gadget, and may the sun grace you with its blessings.

     No signature was given, and aside from the wax seal on the outside, the letter
was totally anonymous. Chip looked at his friends, then over to Gadget. She remained
in front of the window, eyes closed, allowing herself to bathe in the sunlight.
     Dale lowered his voice. "What do you think, guys?"
     Monterey frowned. "It's very believable. Gadget and I had a discussion about 
her father's death not long after we moved in here, and this letter hits all of the
important points about it. Geegaw's plane went down over the Pacific years ago, and
that was the last we heard from him."
     "If that's true, though," Chip rubbed his chin, "what is he doing involved in 
the Yakuza?"
     Do you think he joined? Zipper's look read.
     "Not Geegaw," Monterey shook his head. "Not in a million years. Not willingly,
anyway."
     "Maybe it was just the guy who wrote the letter," Dale mentioned. "I mean, he
doesn't actually say that Geegaw joined up."
     "If Geegaw's actually alive," Monterey mumbled, stealing a glance over at
Gadget. "We don't know if this is real or just some sort of cruel hoax."
     "Pretty elaborate for a hoax," Chip thought out loud. "Besides, how does this
tie in with the attack on you, Monty? Or the fact that this clan is setting up shop
in the city?"
     Dale looked glum, then brightened as a thought struck him. "Oh, maybe this is a
trick. You know, to get us out of the way." The others looked at him, confused. 
"Geez, don't you guys ever watch the movies? They're moving in, and know about us. 
They don't want to have any trouble, so they send this letter along, so that we're 
all so worried about Gadget's father that we can't do anything to stop them from 
getting fully set up."
     Chip looked to Monterey and Zipper. Dale had a point.
     "Could be, Dale." He looked at the letter again. "But to be truthful, I think 
they'd consider us more of a nuisance than a threat. Fat Cat is the one they should 
be worried about."
     Even more important, Zipper pointed to a section of the letter, they must've 
had some knowledge of Gadget's past, and where did they find *that* out?
     "Too right, mate." Monterey nodded. "Whatever the reason, the bloke who wrote
this letter knew somethin' about Gadget's past, and that's what she really wants to
find out about." He looked back over to her, a touch of parental concern in his 
voice. "I can't say I blame her. Or want to try and stop her."
     Chip sighed and nodded. "It's settled then. Tomorrow morning, we help Gadget
pack up, and then we *all* go to Japan."
     Dale couldn't believe it. "Chip, are you serious? There's a new gang setting
up shop only a stone's throw away from us. I may not be a detective, but even *I* 
know that now is our best chance to stop them."
     Monterey nodded. "Dale's right, lad. Once they're in place, it'll be near
impossible to root 'em out."
     "We are going to dislodge them, we're just taking another route to do it," 
Chip assured them. "The guy who sent this is part of that clan, and should be able 
to provide us with answers to a number of questions we have. We have a chance here 
to cut the problem out by its roots, as opposed to digging through the exterior." 
He neglected to mention that he also didn't want Gadget to go off by herself.
     The rest nodded, also not mentioning that they were worried about Gadget on
her own in this endeavor.
     "Then it's settled," Chip said with a nod. He stood up straight, turning to
face Gadget and clearing his throat. "Um...Gadget?"
     She opened her eyes silently, looking at him with a disarming smile.
     "We...uh...." He wanted to say that they would be coming, but he got the sudden
impression that she should make the decision. "We'd like to accompany you to Japan,
if that's all right, I mean."
     Dale glanced at Monterey with an arched eyebrow. Chip rarely sounded this
tentative. Monterey shrugged, not sure why Chip suddenly was asking Gadget for her
permission.
     Walking back over to her friends, Gadget thought for a moment. This was a very
personal trip for her, but they *were* her family now. She let them read that 
letter, after all, so it would be only fair to let them see this the rest of the 
way through.
     "Okay." She smiled. "But we're leaving real early, so you guys had better get
packing." She timidly took the letter back and headed to her room. "Just leave your
stuff outside of the Ranger Wing when you get finished."
     The rest of the Rangers quickly shuffled off to their respective rooms, 
starting to sort through what was needed.
     "How long to you think we'll be gone?" Dale asked as Chip placed their 
suitcases on the bottom bunk.
     "Well," Chip thought for a moment. "I would hope that we wouldn't be gone for
too long, but since this is basically a search...." He shrugged. "Could take all 
month, maybe more. A good rule of thumb is pack enough for a couple of weeks. If 
we're there longer, we can just wash the clothes we have, and resupply." He grabbed
a number of jackets, notepads, and pencils to stuff in his suitcase.
     Dale snatched up his favorite comic books and some small candy bars, packing
them underneath his shirts when Chip wasn't looking. He also grabbed his disguise 
kit and a slingshot he had made recently. He figured that they should be prepared 
for any eventuality, although he hoped he wouldn't have a reason to use the 
slingshot. On anything living, he mentally clarified.
     It was still hard for him to grasp, the whole idea of Gadget's father being 
alive. He had never known Geegaw, aside from the tales Monterey and Gadget had 
mentioned. Even so, he had to admit that he was hoping that Geegaw was alive. 
Mainly because he feared how Gadget would react if this in fact turned out to be 
just a hoax. Having some hope of hers, that she had obviously buried, being 
unearthed only to be proven that Geegaw was really dead, well...he doubted *anyone*
could handle that. Or worse, there might be no proof that Geegaw was dead either,
leaving it still unresolved, and allowing that hope to live. Unfortunately, Dale
sighed, that hope could eat Gadget away from the inside, without her realizing it. 
Or caring.
     He was going back to the dresser for another load of shirts, when he spotted a
small, metal disc on the floor. Walking over to it, he recognized the Rescue Ranger 
symbol engraved in it. Smiling, he picked it up, remembering what it was.
     "Hey Chip," he called out.
     "I'm right here." Chip looked over.
     "Look at this," He handed it over to Chip. "Recognize it?" He asked with a coy
smile.
     Chip smiled. "Yeah, this was made by Packrat." Packrat was an old friend of
theirs, ever since they helped him out of a tight spot with Fat Cat. Packrat 
enjoyed making various trinkets and pictures, much like Gadget with her inventions.
He had made them a number of these, which he called "Rescue Ranger Coins". Each one
had the symbol of the Rangers on one side, and the other was marked with a number. 
Flipping it over, Chip noted that this was number 5. Packrat never said how many he 
made, but the Rangers probably had about twenty or so laying around.
     "Yeah, I guess we dropped one over here," Dale smiled and went back to
packing. "I think Monterey has been collecting them, to see just how many we 
actually have."
     "Might as well give it to him," Chip stated as he walked out the door. "Be back
in a minute."
     He strode easily down the hallway, gently flipping the coin over his fingers,
recalling the adventure they had when they first met Packrat. It was long and more 
convoluted than they first guessed, but that made it all the more enjoyable to look
back on. For however bad things went sometimes, they still managed to come out in 
the end with a total victory.
     His smile slowly faded as he thought about this upcoming jaunt. True, it might
not be as bad as he feared, but at the same time, he had learned from past examples
to expect the worst.
     "Plan for the worst, hope for the best, and take what comes," he recited to
himself. That phrase had become more or less his motto over the last few years. And
applying it to this trip meant envisioning the worst, which was not finding out that
Gadget's father was dead, but that he was alive *and* working for the infamous 
Japanese crime ring. The Yakuza operated mostly in the Orient, but the tales of 
them ran far and wide. And the thought of Geegaw working with them was enough to 
churn his stomach.
     Chip did a quick shake of his head to clear his thoughts, and took a deep 
breath to concentrate. Granted, it seemed likely, if not for certain, that Gadget's
father was entwined with the Yakuza, but that didn't mean he was working *with* 
them. The writer of the letter had said that Geegaw was staying out of honor of 
some kind, so it was possible that he felt he couldn't leave until he repaid a debt.
What that debt is, Chip thought grimly, and the price that's owed is what worries 
me.
     Reaching Monterey's door, Chip knocked briskly. "Monterey? You in there?"
     "Yeah, come on in, mate," Monterey answered through the door.
     Opening the door and stepping through, Chip saw his large friend gently
massaging his arm where the bottle cap had grazed it. "Are you okay?"
     "Well, I feel like Bruce Lee's trainin' partner," Monterey chuckled, "But I'm 
fine. This just helps ease the stingin'. You boys done packin' yet?"
     "Almost. Here," Chip flipped the coin over to Monterey, who caught in deftly
with one hand. "Dale said you were holding these, so I thought I'd drop it off. We 
just found it in our room."
     "Oh, thanks." Monterey chuckled. "Yeah, I got a jar around here somewhere."
     "Okay." Chip turned to leave. "I got to finish my packing. See you by the 
Ranger Wing."
     Monterey nodded as he continued to rub his arm with one hand, and study the
coin with the other. In a way, Chip had done a big favor by dropping it off. 
Remembering old adventures was a perfect way to ignore trepidations about present 
ones. He had known that for years. But even as he tried to remember his favorite 
parts of the adventure the coin reminded him of, it was still overshadowed by what 
lay before him.
     Geegaw had been his best friend for a long time, longer than anyone else, even
Zipper. He had met the mouse pilot on a chance encounter in South America, where 
they found that they had to work together to get out of a barroom brawl. Between 
the two of them, they cleared a swath to the door so quickly, they decided to go 
back in and do it again. After that, they travelled the world together, almost as 
if they were meant to do so. Monterey never told Chip and Dale this, but he saw the
same kind of undying friendship between the chipmunks that he and Geegaw had shared.
     Even after Geegaw met and married Terica, they still kept in constant touch.
Monterey was honored by being the best man at the wedding, and in his opinion, was 
even more honored when he happened to be in town when Gadget was born. Of course, 
the joy was bittersweet, as Terica lasted only a few hours after the birth, just 
long enough to hold Gadget once in her arms. Monterey was glad he was able to be 
there to help out Geegaw, and Gadget. He stopped by whenever he could, and even 
joined Geegaw on some of his trips. Of course, the trip to Zanzibar was their last, 
although he had hoped Geegaw would forgive him someday. When Gadget said that 
Monterey was to inherit the Screaming Eagle, he knew then that he was forgiven.
     "And I never even got to apologize to him," Monterey sighed, lost in thought.
The coin slipped from his fingers, bouncing a few times on its edge and rolling 
smoothly out the door. Monterey watched it roll out with detached interest, still 
trudging through his old feelings.
     The coin rolled for a minute or so, and finally came to rest further down the
hallway. Flying back from the kitchen, Zipper heard the noise and flew over to 
investigate. He, too, smiled as he recognized the coin. He settled down next to it 
and hefted it easily, wondering where it had come from. Looking about, he saw that 
Gadget's room was close by, and her door open. Thinking that she might have dropped
it, he started to fly, by decided it'd be easier to carry the coin while he walked.
     That was only partially the reason, though. He also didn't want to just barge 
in on her. He'd peek around the door first to make sure that he wasn't interrupting
anything. He chuckled inwardly at that.
     Like I could cause a bigger disruption in her life than that letter, he 
thought.
     He had never known Geegaw, meeting up with Monterey after the "Zanzibar 
incident" as it came to be known around the headquarters. But, like Chip and Dale, 
Zipper had heard a great deal about this aviator mouse. Whenever Zipper listened, 
he also could her the touch of emotion that both Monterey and Gadget had for him. 
In all honesty, however, he was more worried about Chip and Dale meeting Geegaw, if
he was indeed alive. Even though they hadn't said anything, not even to themselves,
Zipper could spot possible friction between them and Geegaw. They hated anything 
that upset or distressed Gadget, always trying to protect her fiercely from 
anything threatening, physical or emotional. The fact that this supposed great 
mouse decided to not even so much as let his daughter know he was alive, let alone 
come visit her, did not sit well with them.
     A hope did glimmer in the fact that, as of late, the chipmunks had started 
giving Gadget a lot more respect when it came to helping herself. If they could 
trust in that for emotional turmoil as well as physical danger, than a potentially 
demoralizing encounter might be adverted. But only if they trusted in Gadget's 
self-reliance.
     He had to chuckle again, at the irony of it. Gadget's inventiveness for getting
out of tight spots was what they admired the most, but at the same time, it was also
what they tried to smother under their own protective care.
     Such is love, I guess, Zipper's shrug implied.
     He peered around Gadget's doorframe, seeing that she was packing another
backpack with tools and various metal parts. He knocked on the doorframe, gaining 
Gadget's attention.
     "Oh, hi Zipper." She smiled. "What's up?"
     Oh nothing much, he smiled, I just found this and thought you dropped it.
     He held out the coin and walked over. Gadget took it and examined it. "No...I
don't think so. Most of the ones I had were eventually salvaged for invention 
parts."
     Should've figured, Zipper rolled his eyes.
     Grinning, Gadget patted Zipper on the head. "You tell me the nicest
things...Seriously, I don't think this is mine, but thanks. I'll hang on to it 
anyway, seeing as how I don't have any of my own anymore."
     Zipper nodded, then excused himself to go finish with his packing. Gadget
watched him fly off, then turned back to her backpack. She rubbed her thumb across 
the face with Ranger symbol on it.
     "After all these years..." she mumbled quietly to herself, "I'm going to 
finally find some answers." She tucked the coin in her pocket, and went on with her
packing, humming a lullaby her father used to sing to her, one that her mother had
written.

     The bags were gathered around the Ranger Wing early next morning. Everyone
was up already, even though sun hadn't even risen yet. Dale was persistent in his 
falling back to sleep before he even got out of bed, but Chip and a glass of ice 
water finally convinced him otherwise. Now each of the Rangers set about making 
sure the place was all set for their leave of absence.
     Chip made sure all of the doors and windows were secure, while Monterey
helped Gadget load up the Ranger Wing. Dale checked to make sure that all of the 
electrical appliances were off, taking a moment to watch a music video before he 
heard somebody coming. Zipper had been up first, having the important task of 
letting all of their friends and associates know of their journey, but not the 
exact reasons involved. He sped about the nearby area, dropping off messages with 
Warden McDugell, Foxglove, Tammy, and even Dr. Speck. They would keep an eye out 
for developments while the Rangers were away, in case they needed to know of
something the moment they returned.
     By the time Zipper returned, everyone was starting to climb into the Ranger
Wing. The sun was just cresting the horizon as they brought the Wing out of the 
garage, shutting it securely behind them. They inhaled the scent of a fresh 
morning, the breeze carrying the promises of hopes and dreams. Despite the 
seriousness of their mission, each couldn't help but smile as the Wing took off 
for the clouds.
     Gadget had explained earlier the planned route to reach Japan. They would head
over to the coast first, then hitch a ride on one of the jet airliners for the long
trip over the Pacific. They would park the Wing on the plane, someplace 
inconspicuous, so they could use it over in Japan as well. Nobody had any other 
suggestions, for two reasons: First, it was the best way to go. Second, although 
nobody had actually voiced it, everyone knew this was, in essence, Gadget's mission.
She called the shots.
     The trip to the coast, and even the first part of the overseas journey (in the
landing gear section of the airliner) was held in silence. It wasn't that they 
didn't have anything to say, just that nobody knew exactly *how* to say it. After 
the first few hours on the jet, though, the boredom eventually got them talking.
     For the most part, the discussions centered around what was happening back in
the States, with the discovery of the Yakuza moving in. There wasn't much to talk 
about, though, as they already knew most of the relative facts, and speculation 
could only go so far. Finally, while they were still a good ten hours from Japan, 
Dale took it upon himself to ask some questions that he felt needed answers before
they completely stepped into this undertaking.
     "Uh, Gadget?" His tentative voice caught everyone's attention. They had been
waiting for someone to break the ice. "You know...while I don't mean to pry...
uh...." He found his voice leaving him as Gadget turned around in the front seat 
to face him. Her expression wasn't upset or angry, but curious and expectant. Her 
large, baby blue eyes showed nothing but trust, threatening to consume him. How 
could he ask her about something as personal as her father's supposed death? He 
turned his gaze away, locking it on to Chip, who was sitting next to him.
     Chip blinked, surprised that the responsibility had been passed to him so
abruptly. "Um, I think what Dale's trying to ask, Gadget, is that he...well, we, 
were wondering... um...about...." His own resolve disintegrated as she turned to 
lock eyes with him, catching him off-guard. All he was aware of was how beautiful 
she looked, and how his heart felt like it was boxing with a forty-five ton punch 
press.
     Realizing he had been staring at her for close to a minute without speaking, he
quickly glanced back to Dale, shoving the question back on to him.
     "Erm..." Dale grunted as Gadget turned to look back at him.
"Uh...we...uh...were... uh..." He looked back to Chip, Gadget's gaze also shifting 
over, a small smile playing across her lips.
      That only made matters worse for Chip, who could barely manage,
"...wondering..." He glanced at Dale.
     "...um...how..." Glance.
     "...you found...um...out..." Glance.
     "...uh...that..." Glance.
     "...er..." Glance.
     "...um..." Glance.
     Gadget's gaze shifted to whoever was speaking, all the while her smile steadily
growing, eventually breaking out into a grin. Monterey and Zipper also watched the 
verbal version of "Hot Potato" with a smirk as Chip and Dale continuously passed 
the basis of the question back and forth.
     "You want to know how my father died, so to speak?" Gadget asked with a grin.
     The chipmunk's surprise was silent, but they reluctantly nodded.
     "It's okay, guys," she said with a sigh. "I've already gone through the turmoil
of this whole situation. If I haven't learned to deal with it by now, I never will."
     "Are you sure it's okay, Gadget?" Chip's voice was touched with concern. "I 
mean, it's never been something that we've really discussed before."
     Nodding, Gadget shrugged. "Never was really that important to talk about it. I
mean, the only one who knew him besides me was Monterey."
     "An honor in and of itself," Monterey affirmed with a nod.
     "So, what happened?" Dale finally mustered the courage to ask. "As far as I
knew, your Dad was buried in the cemetery by the airport."
     Gadget's smile faltered, and she leaned back against the control panel, facing 
the chipmunks. "No. It was...I mean...." She closed her eyes, obviously not as 
comfortable with the topic as she'd like to be. "Let me start from the top.
     "It was over a year before you guys came to visit when I found out. Dad still
made frequent trips to faraway lands. Sometimes I came along, sometimes I didn't. 
He was part of the local chapter of the Animal Aviator Society, naturally, and still
has the record for flight miles by a single member. Most of the time, these trips he
took were for more or less the fun of it, although he occasionally delivered items 
to where he was going. Like I said, sometimes I went along. He took me everywhere 
when I was young, not wanting to leave me by myself or at a friend's house. As I 
grew older, and started inventing, the only times he'd bring me along was if he
would be gone for a couple of weeks or more. Eventually, even that stopped. Not 
that I didn't want to go, just that I was old enough to take care of myself by 
then, and had projects of my own.
     "One of his trips that year was out over the Pacific, to Japan. It was just a
test-run of one of the new planes that the local chapter had gotten their hands on. 
He really didn't care about the destination or purpose as much as he cared about the
journey. As long as he would have a chance to soar up with the clouds, he was 
happy." Her eyes slowly glazed over as her vision shifted to the past. "I remember 
him talking about the sense of freedom he got from those trips. He couldn't care 
less about the awards and records and medals that he had won the world over, nor 
about the fame he was attaining in the Animal Aviator Society." She blinked, and 
looked over at Monterey with a smile.
     "Did I tell you that they named their annual award for flight times of the year
after him? He said he never would have cared one way or the other, but I know that 
he would have been so honored...." She trailed off for a moment, before clearing 
her throat and looking back to Chip and Dale. "Anyway, it was one of those trips, 
so I didn't go. I had a bunch of ideas for various inventions do to, and he'd be 
back--" She cut off unintentionally, swallowed, and pushed on. "He said he'd be 
back in a few days. Just a `touch and go' flight, he called it. Touchdown in Japan 
long enough for a solid sleep and refueling, and then head back.
     "I think it was on his second day out that I came home to find a number of his
friends waiting in our house. At first I thought it was just a social call, but when
they saw me enter, they stopped talking. They way they glanced about at each other 
alerted me that whatever reason they stopped by for, it wasn't good." Gadget huddled
up on the seat, hugging her knees to her chest. "I remember coming in, trying to 
seem like I didn't know what was happening." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "But 
I knew. Even before the glances had started, somewhere within, some part of me 
knew."
     She absent-mindedly wiped away a forming tear, but continued. "They really
were very gentle about the whole thing, I guess. That horrid feeling of why they 
had come by was still held at bay by just my own refusal. I pretended not to know, 
hoping my fears would be proven wrong, even telling them before they could speak 
that my father was out, but would return home in a few days. I think I even remember
emphasizing the word,  would'. But, as gently as they could break it to me, they 
told me that he...." Her voice hitched, and she had to close her eyes and breathe 
deeply to continue. "He wasn't coming home."
     Another tear formed in her eye. This time she did not bother to wipe it away.
"They had been on the radio with him," her tone was flat and drained, "when they 
heard him reporting engine problems. They listened, helpless, as the problems got 
worse, until the plane went down, and the radio went dead." She unconsciously 
winced at the last word. Everyone else dared not to breathe, let alone say anything.
Silently, they waited as Gadget built her strength back up.
     "His plane went down over the Pacific, and they never found him or the 
wreckage. I had to bury an empty coffin." The tears began to slide down her 
cheeks. "That's what hurt the most. I never got to say goodbye, I never got to hold
him once more, and he never got the chance to be put to rest alongside my mother."
     Gadget shook her head, quelling her emotions back down to a manageable level.
"But still, at the same time, the lack of a body always kept a small ember of hope 
glowing. Even months after the funeral, and I came to accept the fact that he 
wouldn't be coming back, that ember glowed in the back of my mind. So when I got 
that letter," she sighed and straightened her back, "it was like someone had thrown 
gasoline on it. It burst to life with more intensity than I can ever remember. I 
mean, can you guys understand?" She looked hopefully at all of them. "Can you 
understand what it's like to have what you wish for, more than anything, to 
suddenly present itself as a very real possibility?"
     Her eyes were wide as she looked to each of them, finally settling on Chip.
Maybe not yet, he thought to himself as he returned her gaze, but I can hope.
     She swallowed again, and took a moment to settle herself on the seat more
comfortably. "So," she said, cracking a smile, "there you have it. Everything 
you've always wanted to know about Gadget but were afraid to ask."
     Dale nodded softly. "Thank you, Gadget."
     Monterey put his hand on her shoulder gently. "Get some sleep, luv. You'll need
to be on your toes the minute we reach Japan."
     Feeling like she had been wrung out through a laundry press, Gadget nodded,
and laid down on the seat. The lids of her eyes slowly closed as the doubts and 
hopes within her continued to war with each other.
     Waiting until she finally drifted off, the remainder of the Rangers watched 
over her as they mulled over what she had told them.
     "Monterey," Chip asked, his voice still subdued from the enormity of Gadget's
revelation. "Did you know about all of this?"
     "Yeah, mate, pretty much," he nodded. "We had a chat about it not too long 
after we moved in with you and Dale."
     "What do you think about it?" Chip turned his gaze back to Gadget as he spoke.
     Monterey shrugged. "I'm not sure *what* to think about it, Chipper. I would
hardly consider this to be a hoax. Why someone would go to all the trouble and 
effort of doin' this to Gadget is beyond me."
     Chip nodded. "Plus, the extended knowledge of her background makes it
unlikely."
     "I hope so." Dale cast a worried look at his friends. "Because if this all 
turns out to be fake...I don't think Gadget will handle it very well."
     The others could only somberly nod their heads, well aware of the strain Gadget
was already feeling.
     "Well, we'd better grab some shuteye as well, buckos." Monterey scooted down
in his seat, pulling his cap down over his eyes. "I'm willin' to bet wallabies to 
walruses that things will be hectic once we land."
     Zipper yawned and nodded, settling himself comfortably on Monterey's shoulder.
Dale cast another look to Gadget, then scrunched his way into his seat a bit 
further, shutting his eyes. Chip, on the other hand, merely kept watching Gadget. 
He was more worried than he'd admit to the others, but resolved to keep quiet for 
now. The group had already discussed the fact that the wax seal was the same as that
of the Furfoot clan, but nobody had dared suggest that Geegaw might be involved with
the Yakuza somehow.
     And yet, despite that evidence, Chip had to agree with the others. Geegaw just
didn't seem to be the type to willingly go along with a crime ring. But the letter 
had mentioned that he was staying out of his own free will, so then what was keeping
Geegaw there? And more importantly, Chip thought, why has he decided to let Gadget 
live under the notion that he was dead? He surely knew about her work with the 
Rescue Rangers, the letter showed that much. More so, Chip guessed that even as far 
away as they were from Japan, Geegaw could have gotten a line of communication 
through to Gadget, to at least let her know that he was alive.
     Frowning, Chip sat back, pulling the brim of his fedora down over his eyes.
Geegaw wasn't the kind of guy to get involved with the Yakuza, yet the wax seal 
showed he was, at least indirectly, linked to them. He was also someone who loved 
his daughter very much, yet had chosen to isolate himself from her. Whatever his 
reasons, Chip glumly concluded that they were very hefty ones. Ones that might be 
bigger than anyone on the team was ready for.
     Everyone else was expecting this to be a simple search and rescue mission, so 
to speak. But Chip was trying to figure how the Furfoot clan fit into all of this, 
and to what extent.
     His mind tiring from running down the different pathways, Chip allowed the low
hum of the jet liner to lull him to sleep.

     The airliner approached the runway, extending its landing gear. The Rangers
were ready, and quickly the Ranger Wing was piloted out and away from the jet plane.
Monterey pointed out their destination with a grin.
     "There she blows, mates!" he announced triumphantly. "A peak with a snow hill!
'Tis Mount Ufoolu!"
     "Thanks, Captain," Chip remarked with a smile, catching the literary reference.
     "Okay," Gadget glanced down at the gyro-compass panel. "Cheddarhead said
that he got the letter from a tavern on the northern facing. So the town at the base
is where we want to start."
     She brought the Ranger Wing in and around the huge mountain, finally settling 
it down in the small city of Mihiushi, at the base of the cliff. They quickly 
disembarked, glad for the chance to get out and stretch in the warm sunshine.
     "Enjoy it, mates." Monterey motioned up to the mountain. "Once we start
climbin', the temperature will drop real quick."
     "All right everyone, here's the plan." Gadget pointed to the mountain. "We need
to find out where that trail is that Cheddarhead took, so everyone split up and 
start looking. Ask around, somebody's bound to know where it is. We'll meet back 
here in an hour."
     "Got it," Dale replied, heading off straight to the mountain.
     The others quickly followed, soon breaking off in different directions to cover
more ground. Dale worked the area directly in front of them, while Monterey and 
Gadget took the left and far left, respectively. Zipper handled the area to the 
right, and Chip looked around in the far right section of the town.
     Dale wandered about for a short while, until his stomach started grumbling. Not
having eaten any real food since they left, he decided to take a quick look around 
for a bite to eat. After asking a few mice wandering about, he got directions to a 
street mined with restaurants and pubs.
     Walking around for a while, he finally picked out an inviting-looking pub for
animals, painted in the bright colors of red and yellow: his favorites. He stepped 
in, allowing his eyes to adjust to the low light, which he guessed was for stylish 
ambience. Glancing about, he seated himself at a small table off to the side, near 
what appeared to be a stage of some kind. The curtains were drawn, and the lights 
were off, giving the impression that it was used in the evening for shows.
     A petite female newt arrived to take his order. He was wondering if newts were
common in Japan, but then remembered that as a chipmunk, he shouldn't throw stones. 
Scanning over the menu, he ordered a large appetizer and something to drink. He 
didn't want to hang around too long. He figured about ten minutes or so to fill his 
stomach, and then back out to continue the search.
     Hey, he thought with a smile, maybe some of the people in here know where that
trail starts.
     But as he looked about at the sparse crowd, he really didn't feel like asking
anyone. Not that they appeared threatening or mean-spirited in any way, but he 
already felt a bit conspicuous, being the only chipmunk. His loud Hawaiian shirt 
didn't help matters any, either. Still, when the waitress returned with his order, 
he asked her if she knew about the trail.
     "Oh, it's around here somewhere," she replied with a shrug. "I never really had
a reason to use it. Not many do, as there's not much up the mountain except for 
trappers and hermits."
     "Oh," Dale sighed as she placed his food down in front of him. "Well, thanks
anyway." He started in as she walked off, not realizing just how hungry he really 
was. He had already inhaled about half of his food when he felt a light tap on the 
shoulder. Turning around, he nearly choked on his meal.
     Standing before him was an exquisitely beautiful, young female mouse. Her skin
was obviously extremely supple, visible even in the low lighting. A cascading flow 
of rich, black hair tumbled playfully down her head and across her shoulders. She 
wore an elegant, white silk kikomo, tied loosely with a red sash. Even so, her lithe
and firm figure was evident from the way the robe snugly fitted itself around her 
shoulders and hips. A slim, graceful tail was perked up behind her, telegraphing 
her amusement at Dale's reaction. She regarded him with slight smile as she waited 
for him to swallow his mouthful.
     "Sorry," he finally managed, hitting his chest in hopes she thought his 
reaction was from a clogged windpipe as opposed to a clogged brain. "Something 
must've gone down the wrong way."
     "Apparently." She gave a small laugh. Not condescending, but interested. "Are
you all right?"
     "Sure, no problem." Dale casually clasped his hands together, hoping that would
stop them from shaking.
     She stood looking at him, apparently waiting for something. Dale's mind began 
to race furiously. What's going on? he thought, alarmed. Gorgeous women don't just
approach me like this! Good thing, too, `cause it's obvious I wouldn't know what to 
do...
     A moment later, his mind snapped onto what she was waiting for.
     "Oh, would you like to sit down?" he stammered as he pulled a chair out for 
her.
     "Very much, yes." She grinned at him, sliding down into the chair, not the 
least bit upset at having to wait several moments before he extended the invitation.
     "Sorry," he apologized, "but I just flew in from the States, and--"
     "Boy, are you arms tired," she finished for him with a knowing smirk.
     Dale chuckled, starting to feel more at ease. Her familiarity with bad jokes 
made her seem less intimidating. He still had trouble looking at her directly, 
though, as her large, green eyes sparkled dazzlingly in the moody light.
     "Um..." Dale cleared his throat. "So, what can I do for you?"
     "I heard you asking about the trail," she replied, leaning back. "I thought I 
might be able to help."
     "Really? You know where it is?"
     She nodded. "Even more convenient, I've traversed it before."
     Dale just nodded, not sure how that was supposed to help out. "Okay."
     She watched him for a moment, as if trying to see if he was sincere in his
confusion. Even under the weight of her stare, however, Dale felt more like blushing
than being nervous.
     "Are you alone?" She asked at length.
     "No. Well, I am now, but I wasn't before, and I won't be in a little while 
either." He paused. "Did I answer that right?"
     "You tell me," she laughed lightly. To Dale, it sounded like a series of 
musical notes.
     "Let me try again," he smiled. "I'm here with friends, but they aren't around 
at the moment."
     "I guessed as much." She nonchalantly crossed her legs and leaned against the
side of her chair. "What I'm saying...." She paused thoughtfully. "I'm sorry, I 
don't know your name yet. Mine is Kan Sune." She extended her hand.
     "Pleased to meet you." He grasped her hand and gave a friendly shake, all the
while noticing that her hands were more firm and strong than he had suspected. She 
looked at him expectantly for a minute, making him think that she wanted something 
from him...
     ...then remembered it was probably his name.
     "I'm Dale," he said, a bit sheepishly. "You'll have to forgive me, I'm still 
under a bit of jet-lag, I guess."
     Kan nodded. "Well, as I was saying, Dale, the trail is rather treacherous in
places. Quite deadly, in fact." She watched for any outward sign of fear at this. 
Dale, having been exposed to deadly peril more times than he could remember, waited 
for her to continue as he casually munched on his food.
     She nodded in approval, though Dale wasn't aware of why, and resumed.
"Having been a frequent traveler of this path, I could guide you, and your friends, 
to your destination."
     Dale nodded and offered her some of the food, which she declined with a smile.
He chewed very carefully, appearing to be waiting until he swallowed before 
speaking. In truth, he was stalling for time. Something didn't quite fit into place 
here. He knew he didn't have the deductive abilities of Chip, but he had come to 
trust his own gut reaction. And right now, it was telling him...something. The 
trouble was that he didn't know *what*.
     Normally, his gut reaction was brief and effective, telling him, "This is a 
trap", "Don't trust him", and "That milk expired two months ago". In this case, 
however, it was merely telling him to, well, be careful. Following his instincts 
usually proved to be a wise course of action, but in this case, it wasn't telling 
him to trust her. And, at the same time, it wasn't telling him *not* to trust her.
     Figuring that he had probably chewed long enough without it appearing to be a
stall, he swallowed and smiled disarmingly. "Ah, I sense a `but' coming, though," he
said playfully. He did sense that she was holding something back, and if they were 
going to play this game, it was his turn to press the advantage. If only she wasn't 
so radiant....
     "A wise man, I see." She gave a brisk nod. "You're waiting to hear what I 
expect as payment."
     "Something like that," he played along.
     "As hard as it may be for you to believe," she said with a smile, "I ask for
nothing in return."
     Dale arched an eyebrow.
     "I was planning on making a trip up there soon, and it's always safer to travel
in numbers. Look at it as a trade: you get my guidance up the trail, and I..." She 
leaned forward slowly, resting her chin on one of her slim hands, smiling coyly. "I 
get the pleasure of your company."
     Dale was grateful that the tablecloth dropped in between his knees, as it kept
them from knocking. Too loudly.
     "Su-sure thing, K-Kan S-Sune," he stammered, grabbing his drink and downing it
in one swig, his mouth very dry for some reason. While his feelings for Gadget were 
still incredibly strong, Kan's presence unnerved him a trifle more than he'd like. 
Maybe she's just a flirt, he thought. I hope so...I hope not...I hope an earthquake 
hits so people won't notice my trembling.
     Kan, meanwhile, was taking a great interest in Dale's reaction to her, grinning
widely. She sat back to allow him some breathing room, and barely managed to 
suppress a giggle. Dale, after closing his eyes and counting to ten, then to 
twenty-four when *that* didn't work, managed to calm down a bit as he stood, and 
even managed to help Kan out of her chair.
     "Well, let's get going, then," he said with a gentlemanly bow. "My friends are 
out searching, but we're gonna meet soon enough. Come on, I'll show you the way."
     Kan gave a polite nod as Dale started to lead the way out of the restaurant. 
Just when he thought he was going to make it, though, Kan gently slipped her arm 
through his, smiling over at him. "It's customary for the gentleman to lead the 
lady by the arm, no matter what culture you're in," she explained at his surprised 
look.
     "Of course." He tried to sound relaxed, but his throat had constricted the 
moment of Kan's contact, making it more like a squeak. He coughed heartily, 
demonstrating that it was just a momentary problem. As he made his way out, and 
proceeded to trip three times, knock five cups over, and bump into each table, he 
had a sneaky suspicion that as long as Kan was around, he was going to have 
momentary problems all the time.

     The Rangers eventually made their way back to the Ranger Wing earlier than
expected. Each of them had either tracked down the start of the path, or talked to 
someone who knew where it was. Chip and Zipper met up on the way back, and quickly 
confirmed what the other had found.
     "Now that we know where the trail starts," Chip planned out, "we should
probably get moving early tomorrow morning. I'm tempted to suggest this evening, but
I think we need a bit of time to unwind from that jet ride."
     But what do we do then? Zipper's posture read. I mean, I know we're looking for
that tavern, but *then* what? How do we know that this guy who wrote the letter is 
even there?
     Chip sadly nodded in understanding. "Then we burn that bridge when we come
to it," he said with a bittersweet smile.
     Do you think that Gadget has considered that possibility? Zipper motioned as he
floated ahead.
     Chip thought before answering. "Considered? Yes. Planning for it? No." He
sighed. "I just don't know what to do, Zipper. This is one the most important cases 
of our careers...what am I saying? For Gadget, it's *the* most important case of her
life! And I feel like all I can do is stand by and watch her go it alone. I can't 
help out with her emotions, and that's what she needs more than anything."
     Not everyone can assist the star center, Zipper consoled his friend. Most of us
have to sit in the stands and cheer them on.
     "Yeah, but when the stakes are *this* high, I--" He cut off as they neared the
Ranger Wing. It was around the corner, and he heard a couple of voices. One of them 
was Dale, sounding... embarrassed? The other one he couldn't recognize, although it 
was female. He turned to Zipper. "Do you hear that?"
     Zipper nodded, stroking his chin. Doesn't sound like he's in trouble, though.
     "Maybe someone stopped by to ask for direct--" Chip's words fell from his
mouth as he turned the corner with Zipper. He felt his jaw bounce from the concrete 
ground as his eyes beheld the finest vision of beauty that he had seen since Gadget.
Her dark hair, her pristine white fur, her slim figure, her dazzling green eyes...
everything was perfectly arranged and in order. He was glad that she hadn't noticed 
them yet, and was still chatting with Dale, as standing there gaping at her probably
wasn't the best way to make a first impression. He closed his mouth a few times, 
allowing some moisture back in it so he could speak. He consciously forced himself
to blink, breaking the trance he was in.
     Wow, Zipper blinked. Apparently, he shared the same opinion of her as Chip,
despite the fact she was four times his height.
     "You said it...even though you didn't `say' it, you said it!" Chip whispered,
allowing a slight smile to form. He and Zipper watched as she continued to talk with
Dale, who seemed to be getting more sheepish with each exchange of dialogue. This 
elicited a wider smile from the woman, causing Dale to get even more sheepish, and 
well, one gets the idea.
     "Just remember, Zipper..." Chip quietly laughed, heading towards them, "...a
Rescue Ranger saves his teammate from all perils, especially the social ones."
     "Hey Dale!" He called out as they approached. "Any luck?"
     The female mouse turned her gaze towards Chip, and Dale breathed a sigh of
relief. If your timely entrance is any indication, he thought, I'm the luckiest 
chipmunk alive. Dale was unclear as to how much longer it would have taken for Kan 
to reduce him to a pile of grinning fur. Not that she ever indicated anything 
serious, but she was a horrible tease. At least, he thought, I *hope* she's 
teasing....sorta...
     "Hello," Kan smiled warmly to Chip, shaking his hand. "You must be Chip. My
name's Kan Sune. And you," she turned to shakes hands with Zipper, "are undoubtably
Zipper."
     "How do you do, Kan?" Chip said casually, noticing that he couldn't seem to get
this smile off of his face.
     "Just fine, thanks." She looked him over, causing him to shudder. "I like the
fedora. It goes rather well with the fighter pilot jacket."
     "Actually," Dale started, "I think he got it from Sears--"
     Chip coughed harshly, and Dale grinned.
     "So..." Chip started, trying to recapture his casualness, "how can we help 
you?"
     "Oh, it's the other way around, Chipper." She smiled, then looked pensive. "May
I call you 'Chipper'? I don't know you that well, after all..."
     Chip waved it aside. The only person that he ever had a problem with calling 
him that name was Tammy, but ever since she got over her crush of him (well, for the
most part, anyway), he didn't mind as much. Besides, when Kan said it, it sounded 
more like a song than a nickname.
     Even in such pleasant circumstances, however, his mind continued to
unconsciously analyze statements, and find the "interesting" phrases.
     "Er..." he started, trying to see if he had heard correctly. "What do mean that
it's the other way around?"
     "Kan here is going to help us," Dale explained as he leaned back against the
Ranger Wing. He was still grinning, watching as Chip squirmed under Kan's 
frightfully lovely eyes.
     Oh? Zipper scratched his chin. How?
     "Simple, my dear housefly." She smiled as he blushed. "I've travelled that 
way a great many times, and can help you navigate through the rough spots. 
Especially with this plane," she gestured to the Ranger Wing. "It will make travel 
time much shorter. I'm heading up to the top of the mountain anyway, and would 
prefer to travel in a group as opposed to by myself."
     "Makes sense," Chip acknowledged. "We'd have to check with the others, of
course."
     Kan nodded. "I won't be any trouble, I promise."
     Chip grinned and bowed his head, allowing his hat to shield his face. While it
looked to everyone like he was hiding a blush, he was in fact hiding a 
contemplation. Kan, although his initial meeting with her didn't set off any alarms
(well, not the bad ones, at least), something seemed rather...odd. She seemed very 
eager to go, and from the way she delivered that last line, it almost seemed that 
she was *pleading* to come along; that it would be *them* doing the favor.
     So the next logical question was why she would be so anxious.
     He raised his head, wearing his most charming expression. Somehow, while she
was smiling at him, it wasn't hard to fake at all.
     "Maybe we can pay you back," he said hopefully, "by helping with whatever
business you're going up there for."
     This proved to catch her off-guard, as she faintly blushed. "Well..." she 
started, bowing her head slightly with a smile, looking up at Chip from underneath 
her bangs. He felt his heart skip a beat when she did. "As much as I'd like to stay
in your company for a long while," another beat skipped, "my business is a very...
personal matter. Please don't take that the wrong way. You understand, don't you? 
It's something I have to do myself."
     Chip's smiled faded, as he could hear Gadget telling him the same thing. "Yeah,
I understand." All too well, he thought glumly.
     The sounds of approaching feet notified them of the last two Rangers. They
could hear Monterey's accent parlay with Gadget's inquisitive tone. They were 
discussing the next step, now that the start of the path was found.
     "See, Gadget-luv?" Monterey said with a smile as they rounded the corner. "I
told you that they'd been waitin' for us. And they probably--Too-Rah-Loo!" Monterey
stumbled a bit as Kan smiled at him. "Crikey! I mean, uh, how do you do, Miss...?"
     "Kan...Kan Sune," she responded, a tint of amusement in her voice. "You must
be Monterey Jack, and Gadget. Pleased to met you both." She gave a polite bow.
     Monterey, while not as intimidated by Kan as Chip and Dale were, still gave a
respectful nod to her. "Glad to make your acquaintance."
     Gadget chuckled at Monterey's reaction, and stepped forward to shake Kan's
hand. "You've already met our friends, I take it?"
     "Oh yes." Kan looked over her shoulder at Chip, Dale, and Zipper, giving them
all a wink. "We know each other *quite* well by now."
     The trio in the back flushed a deep red as Kan turned back to Gadget. "From
what I gather, you're the one I need to talk to."
     Gadget looked pleasantly surprised. "Me? Really?"
     "Well, Dale suggested I ask you, as you were in charge of this venture."
     Gadget shifted her gaze to Dale, wondering how much he told her. Dale read her
expression and shook his head. Nodding, Gadget looked back at Kan. "Okay, what's 
up?"
     "I merely asked that I be allowed to guide you up the path. As I've mentioned 
to your friends, I'm something of an expert at it, and was planning on travelling up
it again soon. Seeing as how you are all going the same way, and could be in need of
a guide, I would like to accompany you to your destination."
     Gadget listened intently as Kan explained, occasionally glancing at Kan's
appearance. "Well, you're welcome to come," she started, then continued as Kan 
grinned, "But if you'll pardon my curiosity, you don't really look like the 
mountain-pass-traveller type."
     Nodding, Kan continued to grin. "True, but I've learned long ago that if people
underestimate you due to your appearance, then it's their fault." She turned to 
Monterey. "If I may demonstrate?"
     Monterey looked puzzled as she reached for his arm, but allowed her to grasp 
it. The world did a somersault, and Monterey found himself laying flat on his back,
counting the stars that circled his head.
     Kan was by him in an instant. "Are you okay, Monterey? I didn't mean to flip
you too hard, but it's hard to control the strength of my throws."
     "Yeah," he grumbled, shifting to a sitting position. "I'm fine. A little out of
focus, but nothin' serious."
     The rest of the Rangers stared in amazement at Kan. In the span of a heartbeat,
she had completely flipped Monterey over, which was no easy task. What really 
impressed them was that it appeared she had exerted very little force to do so. Not
a hair was out of place, not a rumple in her silk kikomo, not even the slightest 
sign that she was winded.
     "Martial artist, right?" Monterey continued, brushing his sleeves off.
     Kan nodded. "Taught to me by my grandfather."
     Monterey chuckled. "Well, just be careful, Kan. I've known a few martial 
artists who got a bit cocky about their abilities, normally resultin' in their own 
defeat." He smiled fondly as he thought of the ninjas he had trounced only a few 
days earlier.
     Kan giggled and helped him to his feet. "My grandfather said that it's only 
true use is in self-defense."
     "Got a name for it?" He asked. It didn't seem like Karate, Jujitsu, or any of 
the other styles he had experienced before.
     "Tae-Kwan-Boot."
     "Tae-Kwan-Boot? Eh, it sounds familiar...."
     "It's a version of the style taught by the monks of Frantic," She explained.
     "Well, whatever it is," Dale said with a grin, "It's too cool!"
     Pretty impressive, Zipper agreed with a nod.
     "I guess we have a guide," Gadget grinned at Kan. She had a hunch she was
going to like this woman. "I was hoping to leave tonight, but I think we could use 
a bit of rest from the trip, still. Can you be ready by tomorrow morning?"
     Chip grinned as it was proven that he had called Gadget's decision to wait, 
right on the nose. Zipper looked over at him with a smirk and gave a respectful nod.
Chip tipped his hat to the housefly.
     "All in a day's work," he silently mouthed.
     "No problem," Kan answered to Gadget. "Where shall I meet you tomorrow, and
at what time?"
     "An hour before sunrise," Gadget replied. "At the start of the path."
     "Very well, and again, thanks." Kan smiled and bowed to the Rangers as they
started to climb aboard the Ranger Wing.
     "Thank *you*." Gadget started the engines up. "This should cut our travel time
in half, at least."
     "See you all tomorrow!" Kan called merrily as the Ranger Wing took off. Gadget
was busy piloting, but the guys leaned over to wave goodbye, just in time for her 
to blow them a kiss. It instantly brought a bit of a blush to their cheeks.
     "Yep," Dale said smugly, as he further confirmed his earlier assessment.
"*Definitely* a flirt." He relaxed in the back seat next to Monterey, a dreamy look
on his face.
     "Gee Dale," Chip grinned as he turned to face his best friend. "What would
Foxglove think?"
     Dale blushed again, although he had no idea why. Foxglove was a close friend,
and a valuable ally to the Rangers, but that's as far as it went. Still, he had to 
admit he felt a bit embarrassed about enjoying Kan's flirtations as he thought about
Foxglove.
     Chip laughed and turned back around, while Monterey jokingly nudged Dale.
They all knew about how much Foxglove liked Dale, even if Dale didn't return the 
same feelings. Monterey and Zipper both winked at each other. They had already 
talked about what a good couple Dale and Foxglove would make. They almost always had
these chats whenever Dale was within earshot. Preferably while he was in the same 
room. After all, they had pointed out him, she's the only one who's lasted an 
entire night of monster movies with him. And even Dale had to admire her for that, 
even though she seemed more interested in snuggling up to him than watching
the movie.
     But he still considered her a friend. Granted, a very close friend, but a 
friend nonetheless. He entertained the notion, though, of what it might be like to 
be actually dating Foxglove, instead of these friendly outings they did. Well, 
they'd probably go see a number of movies, particularly the horror kind...no, wait, 
they did that already. Well, they'd definitely start to take long walks in the 
forest, mostly at night, as that was when they were both awake...oh, they did that
already, too. Well, the major change would be that he would start to notice little 
things about Foxglove. Things like her favorite play, "The Crucible", and her 
favorite composer, Bach. The way that her ears perked up whenever she was thinking,
and the scent of lilacs she had in the evenings...
     Dale quickly dropped that line of thought, as the direction it was going was
making him nervous. Well, he thought with a smile, nervous in a *good* way, I 
think...

     Early next day, while the morning stars twinkled in the heavens, the Ranger
Wing swept down from the sky to the start of the mountain trail. Sure enough, Kan 
was waiting patiently, a small knapsack at her feet. The Rangers also saw that she 
was wearing a different outfit than before. A pair of long, heavy pants and short 
sleeve shirt, made from the same sturdy material, adorned her form. A rugged jacket
was slung over one shoulder, and  several short, thick throwing sticks were stuck 
in her belt, encircling her waist.
     She waved at them with a grin as they landed, picking up her knapsack and
moving over to the Wing.
     "Hop in the back, Kan," Gadget called out. Monterey was in the front seat next
Gadget, as she figured that there would be more room in the back seat if Chip and 
Dale were back there. Kan nimbly climbed over the edge of the Wing, setting her 
backpack on the floor and nestling herself between the two chipmunks, both of whom 
scrunched themselves over to their respective sides on the seat, trying to give her 
more room.
     "Thanks, guys," She said with a grin, then leaned forward to address Gadget. 
"So where's your end destination?"
     "A tavern." Gadget lifted the Wing up and started up the trail.
     "Which one?"
     "I don't know exactly, except that it's about thirty miles up the trail."
     Kan nodded slowly, thinking. "Okay, that narrows the field down a little bit, 
but there's a number of taverns still in that area. How will you know when you find
the right one?"
     "We'll just ask some questions," Gadget replied. "A few simple ones should let
us know in minutes if we've found the right one."
     Looking up the trail, Kan nodded. "Okay. My first advice as your guide is to 
fly parallel to the trail. Sometimes when humans are moving along it, they overreact
to anything flying around, even birds. Since most are hunters or have some skill at
it, it's safer to stay off the trail and use it as a guideline."
     Gadget maneuvered the Wing easily over to one side, and Monterey nodded to
himself. His father had mentioned a few run-ins with trigger happy humans, and the 
encounters never were good ones. As they continued, Monterey was impressed as Kan 
constantly gave tips for handling the cross-breezes that blew down the path, pointed
out signs of predators, and even spotted some berries when it got to be lunchtime. 
He wasn't sure how useful a guide would be when they weren't walking, but Kan seemed
to be doing nicely, regardless of their means of travel.
     The sun journeyed in its arc across the sky, and was long past its midpoint by 
the time the Wing finally reached the thirty mile point. They were much higher up 
now, and the wind seemed to be a constant weather condition, blowing fiercely ever 
since they reached the upper climes. They all had bundled up in their winter 
clothes, while Kan had slipped on her jacket and buttoned it up. It wasn't snowing,
but Kan guessed that it would before too long.
     "We've got a lot of taverns to check out before nightfall," she said, checking 
the sun. "Do you want to start checking the taverns now or wait until morning?"
     "Now," Gadget's voice, the others noticed, had a slight touch of anticipation, 
like a child who was only a few minutes away from riding her favorite roller-
coaster. "We can drop you off now, if you'd like."
     "No, I signed up until you reached your destination." The two women exchanged
smiles. "Then let's get started. The closest one is off to your right, behind that 
snowbank." She leaned back, snuggling into the seat for warmth. "We'll hit every 
tavern up the trail in order then, although it could take several hours, not 
counting the time for your questions."
     Chip and Dale kept their eyes on the tavern, very much aware of Kan's hips
touching up against theirs. As she snuggled in, she also, inadvertently, snuggled up
a little against them, causing them both to wonder why they were starting to sweat. 
They had been packed together for the entire trip, although Kan was too busy 
actually guiding Gadget to actively flirt with them. The key word, though, was 
"actively". She still brushed against them as she moved about, placing a hand on 
their shoulders to steady herself while looking over the side of the Wing, and 
brushing her hair back, allowing the sun to catch the highlights.
     Thus, they both practically leapt from the back seat before Gadget had even
landed, quickly heading off towards the tavern.
     "Guys!" Gadget called out. "Wait up!"
     Zipper flew over to them, a bit erratically as the wind shifted about. Anxious
to get going guys? Zipper's knowing grin said. Or just anxious to get away from Kan?
     "Shut up, Zipper," Dale advised with a wink.
     Come on guys, Zipper shook his head with a grin, It's not like Kan's trying to
seduce you or anything.
     "That's the problem, Zipper," Chip let out a dry chuckle. "She doesn't *have* 
to try."
     The others joined them as they waited outside of the door, and then they all 
went in as a group. It was a fairly busy place, with a good number of patrons at 
the tables and bar. They turned to regard the newcomers for a moment, then turned 
back to their drinks and discussion. Most of them were male, but a few women were 
about as well. Almost all of them were mice, with the exception of one or two rats.
     Gadget strode to the bar, signaling for the bartender.
     "Excuse me," she said politely as he walked over, "but I was wondering if you
remember a customer that was in the area a week or so back. He looks like him," she 
pointed to Monterey, "except older, with gray hair, and a black hat. Called himself 
Cheddarhead Charlie. Do remember him at all?"
     The bartender shook his head, polishing a glass with his rag.
     "Are there any other bartenders that work here?" she asked.
     He chuckled. "Nope. I run this place, babe."
     Disappointed, Gadget walked back over to the group, where Kan comfortingly
put her hand on Gadget's shoulder. "All of the taverns up here are run by a single 
person, or family in rare cases. The chances of there being more than one bartender
in any one tavern is highly unlikely."
     Gadget sighed. "Yeah, I guess you're right." Her face brightened suddenly.
"Well, come on, we've still got a lot more taverns to check on!"
     The Rangers used the same procedure for each tavern they reached. Or more
appropriately, Gadget used the same procedure. She was always the one to ask the 
bartenders if they had seen Cheddarhead Charlie, not because nobody else wanted to,
but because she was always the first to step forward.
     They never asked anything about the Furfoot clan, and that was Chip's
suggestion. As he pointed out, if they started asking about part of the Yakuza, 
they might get more than just a verbal answer. He decided that it would be safer if 
nobody else knew about this, including Kan. None of the Rangers had argued, and so 
they continued to move from tavern to tavern asking about Cheddarhead.
     The sun had just set, and the Rangers were starting to feel the effects of 
fatigue, having been up since before the sun even rose. With the exception of 
Gadget, of course. In fact, her energy level even seemed to be picking up, as each 
tavern eliminated from their search brought them closer to the one they were 
looking for. Finally, as the group stood in the latest tavern half-asleep, they all 
heard what they had been waiting for.
     "Remember him?" The bartender actually laughed. "How could I forget him? He
was pretty flamboyant, but a nice enough guy. Good tipper, too."
     Gadget's grin spread across her face. "Great!" She turned to her friends, who
smiled back her, although their lips drooped heavily. She blushed, having forgotten
that not everyone had as much of a personal stake in this as her. She turned back 
to the bartender. "Could we get some rooms for the night?"
     "Sure. How many?"
     "Kan?" Gadget asked. "Do you mind sharing a room?"
     Kan shook her head. "Not at all, Gadget."
     "We'll take three, each with two beds." Gadget figured that Chip and Dale could
sleep in one, and Monterey and Zipper in another. That was how the usually broke up 
in terms of sleeping arrangements when they were out of their headquarters.
     The bartender nodded and handed over to her three small keys. "Take the stairs
up to the second level. They're all on the left side."
     Gadget walked back over to the group and handed the keys out. "One person
staying in each room should probably go on up and get things ready while the other 
brings in our overnight bags. Since I want to move the Ranger Wing to a more 
protected location," she turned to Kan, "why don't you go on up?"
     "Sure. Just grab my knapsack from the back, please." She took the key and
started upstairs.
     Monterey handed the key over to Zipper. "Here you go, lad. I think a have a
slightly better chance to carry the bags in," he nudged the housefly good-naturedly.
Zipper rolled his eyes with a smirk, and headed up after Kan.
     Dale yawned fiercely, and rubbed the key he held with his thumb. "Well, I think
I'll go up. I think I'm gonna konk out any minute, and I'd rather it be in a bed 
than outside." He shuffled off as Monterey, Gadget, and Chip headed back outside.
     Gadget moved the Ranger Wing over to the back of the tavern, where it was
shielded from the elements by some nearby trees. They grabbed the few things they'd
need for the night, and headed back around to the front.
     "What now, Gadget-luv?" Monterey asked as they made their way through the
snow.
     "Tomorrow," she sighed sadly, "we're going to have to figure out a way to find
out about this other guy. We'll ask the bartender. Maybe that mouse is a regular 
here. At the very least," she cast a nervous glance at Chip, "we'll ask about the 
Furfoot clan."
     Surprised that her eyes were actually asking him if that was okay, Chip agreed,
not seeing any other alternative.
     "But," she stated with a yawn, "that's for tomorrow. For right now, I want to 
get a good night's sleep."
     They stepped back inside, and made their way up to their rooms. Of course, they
weren't sure which of the three doors on the left the others had chosen, so each of 
them knocked on one.
     Kan opened the one where Chip was, surprising them both.
     "Why Chip," she asked with a sly grin. "Whatever brings you to my room?"
     "I..uh...er...uh." In the back of his mind, Chip noticed that whenever Kan 
flirted with him, his vocabulary suffered.
     Laughing, Gadget stepped by Chip into the room. "Sorry Chip," she giggled, "but
I already called this room."
     Chip tipped his hat to Gadget, then looked over as Dale opened the door where
Gadget had been. Thankful for an excuse to leave, he bid the ladies a good night and
walked to his room. Monterey had already entered his, having picked the right one 
the first time.
     Dropping the overnight bag on the floor, Chip settled down on one of the beds.
Dale had already crawled back into his, and was fast asleep in an instant. From the 
way that his own muscles sagged, Chip knew he was ready to join him. Before he did, 
though, he pulled out his Sheerluck Jones collection of stories, flipping to one 
randomly. He had already read these, but even reading over the old ones helped keep 
his mind in shape. He leaned back against the headboard and started in.
     He had just gotten to the second paragraph when his body shut down, sending
him into a deep sleep.

     He was waiting downstairs early next morning. The rest of the Rangers and Kan
were still asleep upstairs, so he leisurely ate his breakfast while reading his 
book. The place was empty of people, except for a single mouse over in the corner. 
Chip noticed his thick coat, wet from melted snow, and guessed he had just arrived 
a short while ago. Chip gave a wry smile at the thought it might be who they were 
looking for, but decided to wait for the others. The mouse didn't look like he was 
going to move anytime soon.
     Chip sipped at some hot chocolate that the bartender had scrounged up. At 
first, Chip was surprised that the tavern even had any, but the bartender explained
that the wider variety of drinks and food that was available here, the more people 
that would frequent it. Chip looked around as he drank, noting the simple but cozy 
layout of the place.
     The whole first floor was open, filled with tables and chairs and a bar at one
end. The floor was made from stone, kept warm from the huge fireplace in the center
of the room, easily about six inches square. A small doorway off to the side of the
bar led to the kitchen, were the bartender's wife cooked. Across from the bar, on 
the other side of the room, were the stairs leading to the second level with the 
guest rooms. They went up for a bit, as the ceiling in the tavern was quite high, 
about two feet up. Dozens of wooden crossbeams ran the entire length of it, 
reminding Chip of the jungle gym sets he played on as a child.
     "Dale would probably love to try those," he remarked to himself with a chuckle.
     He glanced out one of the many windows, noting that the sun still hadn't risen
yet. He guessed it was because they were in the mountains, but the sky looked the 
same as when he first came down, over forty-five minutes ago. He shrugged and turned
back to his novel, when he heard some footsteps. Glancing up again, he saw that the 
mouse with the wet coat was walking over to his table.
     Chip carefully set his novel down, positioning his feet so he spring back 
quickly if need be. Not that the mouse was making any threatening gestures as he 
came over. Indeed, in any other circumstance, Chip would say that the stride was a 
very formal and elegant one, one belonging to a man of culture. As he came closer, 
Chip also absently noticed the quality of the clothes the mouse was wearing. A small
gold ring glimmered on his middle finger, although Chip couldn't see if it had any 
crests engraved upon it. But all of that was not what was making Chip tense. It was 
the mouse's face. Or rather, the *lack* of one.
     It was just a black void, shifting and humming like a piece of machinery.
Occasionally facial features flitted across the surface, but they were fleeting, and
never matched each other. There was the nose of a lizard, the mouth of a rat, the 
eyes of a mouse, and so on. Chip was glad that they went by quick, as looking at any
combination of them for more than a few seconds would probably make him sick.
     The faceless mouse sat down at the table smoothly, folding his hands in front 
of him.
     "Why are you here?" Its voice rang in Chip's ears hauntingly, sounding like a
chorus of voices speaking simultaneously.
     "To help a friend," Chip replied nervously, not sure why he wasn't running, or
attacking, or the like. Whatever he was talking to, he doubted that just talking 
would be the smartest thing.
     "You lie." The mouse never shifted an inch. "Why are you here?"
     "I didn't lie," Chip was surprised at the rock-steady tone of his voice, but 
didn't show it. "I'm here to help my friend find her father."
     "You cause dishonor when you lie." Still, the mouse never moved. "You
dishonor yourself. You dishonor Gadget. You dishonor me."
     "I'm not lying," Chip stated again, although he wanted to scream it.
     "You are here to kill me."
     Chip's jaw dropped. "What?"
     "That is why you came. To kill me."
     "That's a lie," Chip stated, but wanting to have shouted it. Why couldn't he?
     The mouse moved, cocking its head to one side. "You are not here to kill me?
Are you sure?"
     "Who are you?" Chip questioned.
     "You know who I am. What I am." The void shifted, and Chip saw, for just a
moment, two facing crescent moons with five stars.
     "Yes," Chip nodded, not knowing why.
     "It only thinks of itself," A new voice called out. Chip turned to look over 
his shoulder, and gaped as he saw who the voice belonged to. A tall, athletic mouse 
in a pilot's jacket and cap stood in the doorway, his yellow-orange hair and 
moustache perfectly dry, as if he had not had to come through the snow outside. Chip
had only seen him in photographs before, and so it took him a moment to get over the
shock of seeing Geegaw Hackwrench in the flesh.
     "It's very self-centered," Geegaw continued. "It can't fathom the idea that 
people act independently of it."
     Chip turned back to the faceless mouse, which hadn't moved since Geegaw
spoke. Except for that grotesque shifting void...
     "But it was right about one thing." Geegaw went on. "You did lie."
     "I did not!" Chip snapped, turning to face Geegaw once more. "I did come here
to help Gadget find you!"
     "That is the truth," Geegaw nodded once. "But you lied before, when you said
you had come to help a friend."
     Confused, Chip cast a glance back at the unmoving faceless mouse, and carefully
rose from his chair, walking slowly over to Geegaw. Chip's face was one of a person 
who knew what was going on, but couldn't believe it was happening.
     Answering Chip's unasked question, Geegaw gave him a soft smile. "Gadget's
not your friend, Chip."
     The leader of the Rescue Rangers stared in astonishment at Geegaw. How could
he say such a thing! He'd do anything for Gadget. Anything!
     "I know," Geegaw said, reading his mind. "But you know she's not your friend.
And until you admit it, you're not going to be able to help her in the future."
     "In the future?" Chip asked, somewhat dumbfounded at this whole conversation.
He noticed, now that he was closer, that Geegaw's irises--Geegaw had irises?--were
a shifting blend of colors.
     "Yes, but you'll see when the time comes. If you want to help Gadget now, here
in the present, there's one thing you must do."
     Chip's mouth went dry. "What's that?"
     "Wake up."

     Chip blinked and snapped his head up, ricocheting it off of the headboard.
Groaning, he rubbed the back of his head as he glanced about. He was in his room, 
open book upon his lap, and the wind howling outside. The single window on the wall 
showed that it was pitch black out. Climbing over to look out, he saw that an 
incredible blizzard was raging outside. He felt a sudden shudder as he looked out, 
now fully aware of how little light there was. The storm clouds easily blocked out 
the moon and stars, and being this was the mountain wilderness, no city lights were 
off in the distance. It seemed as if he was standing on the last piece of actual 
ground in the world, staring off into the empty blackness of an infinite void.
     This recalled the image of that faceless mouse from his dream, and he shivered.
He turned away from the window, glad that the light was still on. What brought 
*that* on? he wondered. Why would Geegaw say that Gadget's not my friend? God, I 
hate abstract dreams like these....
     He tucked the book back in his jacket, not wanting to read, and not really in 
the mood to go back to sleep. Not just yet, anyway. He stepped out into the hallway,
heading downstairs to the main tavern. The bartender was in bed, of course, but the 
fire still burned in the hearth, and right now Chip was in need of both the strong 
light and the warmth. As he started down the stairs, he paused at the top, crouching
down to take a look over the tavern before heading down, searching for any signs of 
people below. In particular, mice in wet jackets.
     The lamps along the walls had been put out, the hearth fire providing the only
remaining light. It cast long shadows on the walls from the tables and chairs, 
weaving and entwining them like some flickering net that shifted all around. But it 
was still enough to see that nobody was down below. Chiding himself for being 
superstitious, Chip was about to head downstairs, when the front door opened.
     A lone figure entered, the wind shrieking in rage as it lost its prey to the 
safety of the tavern. It blew in a flurry of snowflakes before the traveller managed
to shut the door. The figure shook the snow out of his clothes, for Chip could see 
that it was at least male, but his vantage point prevented him from spotting the 
mouse's face.
     Looking about, Chip decided to let his paranoia do the talking, and instead of
heading down the stairs, he grabbed a nearby rafter, easing himself up into the 
network of crossbeams above the tavern. Creeping carefully out over the floor, Chip
worked his way towards the center of the room, hidden alongside of the chimney that
ran up through the room. From that position, he could see the figure fully, spotting
the sleek ears and tail. It was a mouse, but he currently had his back to Chip.
     The mouse leaned up against the bar, resting from his journey. He unfastened 
his jacket, reached down into his shirt, and drew out something small. A pendant of 
some kind, attached to a simple leather thong around the neck. From Chip's angle, he
couldn't see what was on the face of the pendant, as the firelight glinted off of 
it. Whatever it was, the mouse gazed at it fondly, lost in memories. As he did, it 
gave Chip a chance to carefully scan the mouse's hands.
     A lone golden ring adorned his right hand's middle finger.
     Chip felt his stomach drop. True, it might not be a member of the Furfoot clan,
but this was not the time to take chances. He considered his options.
     I could sneak back and get the others, he thought, but then what? Do we want to
get away from him, or capture him for questions? If the latter is what we need, then
I could probably blindside him right now, while he's engrossed in that pendant. I'd 
better move in closer then, in case he--
     The rattle of the door handle interrupted the thoughts of both of the room's
occupants. The mouse at the bar snapped a worried look over at the door, giving 
Chip a good profile of his face. At least he has a face, Chip thought with a smirk.
As the mouse turned to look around the room in a state of near panic, Chip could see
that the mouse was also young, about the same age as he was. The mouse quickly 
tucked the pendant back in his shirt, fastened his coat shut and withdrew a 
wakizashi from his belt as the door burst open.
     Chip wondered why the young mouse was acting so frightened, and his answers
came in from the raging storm, all ten of them. Ten mice, the last one shutting the
door securely and crossing his arms in front of it, completely fulling the 
requirements of guard posture. The others carefully began to circle around the young
mouse, drawing katanas from their belts.
     "You know the drill, Tham," one of the mice, with a small black goatee,
addressed the young mouse as the others continued to position themselves around the
room.
     "You know the answer, Chan," the young mouse named Tham gripped his sword
hilt tighter.
     Shaking his head, Chan sighed. "Because of our past, I'll give you one more
chance. Give us the pendant, or we'll take it forcibly. I would prefer that it was 
the former, Tham." A note of honesty was in his voice. Tham didn't answer right 
away.
     Observing all of this, Chip noticed a couple of things of interest. First, all
of the mice that had entered also wore a golden ring on the middle finger of their 
right hand. Second, the mice surrounding Tham were merely placing themselves right 
now, more so to cut off any escape routes than actually move in to attack. They were
a good distance away, with several tables and chairs between each of them and Tham, 
who was now standing directly below Chip, by the fireplace. Chip was able to realize
that this was to unnerve Tham. Being able to move freely around in one spot, and see
that an enemy was only a leap away, was an effective shakedown method against lesser
foes. Tham, however, didn't appear to be a lesser foe. From the way he held himself,
he showed no signs of fear, only regret. Chip wasn't clear on what the regret was 
for, but decided now would not be the time to ask.
     "I'm sorry, Chan," Tham shook his head. "I will give up my life before I give 
up my pendant."
     Chan's eyes held a twinge of sadness. "I know. I just wish I didn't have to be
the one to take them from you." He motioned, and the others began to close in.
     Chip gritted his teeth as his mind raced. Now what? His eyes ran over the ten
mice closing in, wondering what do to. He didn't know what this was all about, after
all, and the mouse below might have stolen that pendant. In his heart, though, Chip 
knew who the enemy was.
     He quickly pulled out the rope he carried in his jacket and tied it to the 
rafter he was perched on. He then swiftly sprinted down the length of the beam, 
being careful not to let the slack fall across any other beams. When the rope had 
reached the desired length, Chip took a strong grip on it, pulled out his book, and 
swung down towards Chan, identifying him as the leader. Chan, who had thought he 
heard motion from above, turned and tried to call out a warning to his men.
     "PISTACHIO!" Chip hollered, which accomplished a few things. First, it would
hopefully wake up the rest of the Rangers and get them down here, as he doubted he
would last long by himself. Second, it caught Chan's men attention, giving Tham the
distraction he needed to place a deft roundhouse kick to the one closet to him, 
taking him down. Tham leapt through the opening and rolled up to face his attackers,
now all in front of him. And third, the shout helped Chip take his mind off of the 
suicidal nature of this "rescue" he was trying to perform.
     Chan had his open mouth closed abruptly as Chip swung in, snapping his thick
book up into Chan's chin. Backed by the momentum from the swing, the devastating 
literary uppercut launched Chan from his feet and dropped him two inches away. 
Chip's swing brought him over to the wall, where he pushed off again, this time 
swinging out over closer to Tham. One of Chan's men stepped up intercept Chip with 
his katana blade, but Chip whipped his book out in a sudden throw, smashing it into 
the mouse's face. Although it didn't knock him out, it did set him off-balance 
enough for Chip to perform a flying tackle from the rope, driving the mouse roughly
into the floor. Chip was the only one who stood, although his wooziness told him he
may not have gotten the best of that.
     His worries intensified as he noticed that the tackle had brought him further 
away from the rope than he planned on. The rest of Chan's men quickly moved in front
of it, one even taking the time to slice it down. Chip reached down quickly and 
picked up the fallen mouse's katana and backed up towards the bar with Tham.
     "While I appreciate the assist, stranger," Tham said as he kept a careful watch
for a sudden charge by the rest of the group, "you picked the wrong time to 
intervene. These boys have tracked me this far, and if so, they won't be easy to 
defeat."
     "Hey, come on," Chip said with a forced chuckle. "We've already taken out three
of them, how hard can the rest be?"
     A groan alerted Chip to Chan regaining his feet. The mouse stood up slowly,
drawing his own katana and drilling a gaze at Chip. A small trickle of blood from 
his mouth was the only indication that Chip's attack had any effect.
     "You're dead," Chan spat.
     "Don't worry," Chip said, backing up with Tham until they had their backs to 
the bar. "I have friends upstairs, and they must've heard my shout. They'll be down 
here any minute."
     Chan smiled evilly, and motioned to three of his men. "Upstairs. Guard the
hallway. Kill anything that comes out of the rooms." They quickly darted up the 
stairs.
     Chip's jaw dropped in horror as he realized that a villain was actually 
reacting to what he had said. If his friends had heard him, they would probably 
come charging out, never suspecting what lay in wait.
     "NO!" Chip screamed and bolted forward, trying to get around the mice in front
of him. Swinging the katana in a large, warding arc, he managed to get by three, 
before the fourth cut him off. A scuffle of feet behind and on both sides of him 
announced that he had been *allowed* this far, so they could effectively surround 
him.
     As one, they swung in with their katanas.
     Tham moved to help only to be blocked off by Chan. "Don't worry about him,"
Chan grinned. "They know that I have the claim to his death. They'll merely rough 
him up a bit in the meantime."
     Tham knew what kind of torture that meant for Chip, and immediately pressed
the attack. Chan parried skillfully, concentrating on defense. His old friend Tham 
could wait. That interfering chipmunk was Chan's prime concern, and he wanted to 
make sure that he suffered before his death.
     Behind him, Chip was hopelessly outclassed, barely managing to hold his own. 
It was obvious that his opponents were merely toying with him, as they laughed 
amongst themselves. One decided to get on with it and removed Chip's sword with 
flick of his wrist. Another one moving in swiped his blade around, coming away with 
Chip's hat, and a patch of fur...

     "Crikey! What's goin' on down there!?" Monterey bellowed as he sprang from his
bed, the clashing of metal on metal ringing throughout the tavern. "Chip?! Are you 
down there?" He thought he had heard Chip yell only moments earlier. Quickly 
throwing the door open, he raced out into the hall heading for the stairs, never 
seeing the descending blade from behind...