The Tehachapi Weekend
The Tehachapi Weekend
by David White
Music by David Newman
Exec. Producer - Ponsonby Britt, O.B.E.
ACT III
“She who knows, and knows that she knows, is enlightened. Seek her.”
Don’t be late, Gadget thought. Don’t be The Late Gadget
Hackwrench.
You’re going to go home, Gadget Hackwrench, a gentle voice echoed. Don’t be late.
Your life is in immediate danger, she heard. Don’t be late.
Gadget started awake. For the first time, she found she wasn’t being observed as she slept. The realization made her feel somewhat as if she’d been abandoned.
“Oh, darn it!” she said under her breath. The reason being late kept echoing in her memory just slipped into focus. “The symposium! Professor Hamilton! Crumbs, crumbs, crumbs!” She sat up and cradled her head in her hands. “I’d have been better off dead,” she muttered.
She rolled off the sofa and padded to the kitchen. Someone had left the cocoa out in an obvious spot. It would have made an easy midnight snack. Now she veered toward the half-filled coffee pot, plucked a cup out of the cupboard, and poured a steaming eye-opener.
Gary entered from the utility room behind her. “Careful, there, Gordo makes strong stuff. If you don’t finish that off, it’ll climb out of the cup and hunt you down.”
She didn’t smile or even look up. Her solemn attention seemingly fixed on the black liquid.
“Now, that is an expression I would do anything to never see again,” Gary said. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m about to miss a very important engagement and hurt someone I’d much rather not hurt,” said Gadget.
“Shall I guess, or will you tell me?”
“There’s a symposium on magnetic hydrodynamics this week. People from all over the world will be there. Professor Hamilton at the university worked hard to arrange everything and asked me to give the keynote speech, and now I’m going to disappoint him.”
“Heard that,” said Gordon as he entered the kitchen. “I didn’t think high energy physics was your bag, Gadget.”
“It’s not,” she said “But I keep up on the sciences. MHD could be a fantastic source of clean electric power.”
“If anyone can get it to work,” said Gordon. “You’ve got to manage the Hall Effect, deal with temperatures above 4600 degrees...”
“That’s what the symposium is about,” Gadget said. “A lot of the scientists and mathematicians aren’t sure it can be done. I was going to speak to tell them that if they can get the math to work, people like me will darn sure make the machinery work.”
“Where’s all this being held?” Gary asked.
“It’s been kept very quiet,” Gadget said. “To avoid the press as well as for security reasons. It’s up at Lake Pyramid Lodge.”
“Wait a minute,” Gary said. “Gordy, did you tell me something last night about Professor Henry Hamilton?”
“That does sound familiar,” Gordon answered. He stepped into the communication room and came back with several papers. “Now that I think of it, it was in Stan’s upcoming operations. Here! Stan was supposed to bodyguard the professor at the symposium today.”
Gadget took and scanned the document. Gary peeked over her shoulder. “It’s just a courtesy service.” he said. “This says Hamilton used to make big boys toys at the Los Alamos Labs, but he hasn’t been active for years. Stan would have essentially been a well-armed chauffeur”
“Still, we don’t have any other connection,” Gadget said. “Henry was the only reason I was at the university on Friday.”
“It also accounts for Stan being at the university,” said Gary. “He was probably introducing himself to the Prof.”
“Holy neutrons, Batman,” Gordon said as he scanned another document. “Look at this attendance list. Barringer, Kitt, Wilson, Hale. About three hundred more. There’s enough brain power here to light up Detroit. And some of these security clearances are all asterisks.”
“That means the classification is so high, it’s classified,” Gary explained. “Gadget, what time were you supposed to speak?”
“Noon.”
“Before lunch?” Gordon said. “Great. Throw ‘em the raw mouse meat. That professor didn’t do you a favor.”
Gadget smiled back. “You don’t know these guys outside the lab. At a shindig like this they start cocktails at sunrise. They’ll be nicely mellow by noon. The professor knew what he was doing. They’d get to discuss the speech over lunch and then break up into discussion groups”
“Then your speech is the only time today they’re likely to all be together?” Gordon asked.
“Yes. I think so.”
“Okay,” said Gary. “We have time to load up. We’ll take the chopper since this is just over at Lake Pyramid. I don’t want to land too soon and scare them off.”
“Wait, Gary,” Gadget said. “We don’t have any idea what’s going on. What would anyone want with a room full of chalk-dusted theorists? Or with me, for that matter? A lot of this is just theory and numbers to me.”
“Ah-ah,” Gordon reproved. “That’s abacus thinking. We can’t wait for everything to add up.”
“Gadget,” Gary leaned forward, “you can overanalyze the problem. We know where and when. That’s enough. As for what and why, we’ll just be there when it happens. If it happens. It’s possible they were after you just to get the meeting location. Without that, nothing might happen.”
“Oh, no!” Gadget gasped. “Chip! I was going to wear my nice suit and and I asked him to fly me up to the symposium!”
“Is that a problem?” Gordon asked.
“You don’t understand. Chip writes everything down.”
“CALL!” Gary grabbed the phone and passed it to Gadget. “Get them out of the place if they’re there.”
“What’ll I say?”
Gordon chimed in. “Tell ‘em two scruffy guys kidnapped you and dragged you off to the Tehachapis. That should do it.”
Gadget almost told Gordon that they’d never believe that. She dialed quickly.
“Rescue Ranger Headquarters.” It was Chip again. Gadget saw Gary silently pick up another line and cover the mouthpiece.
“Chip! It’s Gadget. Are you all right?”
“How did you...? I mean, sure. It’s been a quiet weekend. We’ve just been cleaning up. Are you all right?”
Gadget ignored the question. “Chip, the symposium today. You were going to fly me there. Do you have the location?”
“Of course. It’s right here in my Day Runner. Hey! The page’s been torn out! DALE!!”
Gary waved and whispered to Gadget. “It’s okay. They’re in no danger. Sign off.”
“Chip. Chip! It wasn’t Dale. I’ll explain later. I’ve got another ride up there.” She paused a moment. “Chip. I... I’ll see you soon. Bye.” She hung up the phone.
“You’re still not telling him,” Gary observed.
“When the time is right.”
“Good for you,” Gary said. “Let’s get going.”
They worked quickly. Gary pre-flighted the helicopter while Gordon selected and loaded equipment. He took surprisingly little. Gadget was given the run of the utility room and loaded her photographer’s vest with finely made tools.
Gadget met Gordon in the main room and found him at the coffee table. “Do you want a weapon? I’ll bet you’re a good shot.”
The table held three Crosman guns and a half-dozen fighting knives, among other weapons. She appreciated the craftsmanship, but was stayed by their purpose.
“Gordon, the Rescue Rangers have used sucker darts, water pistols...”
“The Automatic Plunge-O-Popper?”
“Oh, I’ll never live down the Plunge-O-Popper,” she said with a small smile. “But those were all for distractions, diversions. We never needed deadly weapons. I know the world is changing, Gordon, but that’s a change I’m not ready to make.”
“It’s okay. We can cover you.”
“All set,” said Gary, coming in from the hanger. He had donned mirrored sunglasses, a leather flight jacket and a cavalry hat. Gordon wore a tweed jacket and looked like he was on an outing from London. The jackets concealed an array of weapons with practiced perfection. “Gadget,” Gary continued, “you know you don’t have to go on this.”
Gadget’s face became stern. “Guys, a man I barely knew gave his life to protect me. I owe him. I owe both of you. I’m in.”
They stood there smiling at her. For a moment she thought they weren’t going to let her go. She would have none of that. She stamped her foot and ordered, “We go. NOW!”
* * *
The chopper barreled out of the concealed hanger into a clear desert morning.
Gary turned almost due west and Gordon fed the destination to the GPS navigation
system. Gadget perched between and behind them in the instructor pilot’s
seat.
“How long to get there?” Gadget asked.
“About ten minutes,” Gary replied. “They’re practically in our laps.”
“How do we get in?”
“You’re expected,” Gordon said. “Gary and I know most of Stan’s people. We’ll just talk fast.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. “Professor Harrison said something about a ‘Pendleton team.’”
“WHAT!” they said in unison. “The Marines!” Gordon said, “We should have guessed when we saw the megatonnage on that guest roster.”
“We’ll bluff our way in,”
“You can’t bluff a bunch of jarheads,” Gordon said sternly. “They’ll swat us out of the sky like a badminton birdie. You’ve gotta call Chucky.”
“No.”
“I don’t care what issues you have with him. You gotta get him to clear us.”
“We can’t call him. We’re out of range.”
“Some people should carry cell phones,” Gadget said. “Where is this Chucky?”
“Right now, he’s in downtown L.A. But Gary’s right. We don’t have a radio that will reach from here.”
“You will in a minute,” Gadget attacked one of the transceivers in the center console, prying it open in seconds. “What’s the frequency, Kenneth?”
“You’re catching on,” Gary smiled. “It’s 176.6”
They watched as she worked, her hands moving with the skill of surgeon and the speed of a card shark. Tools, wires and components moved briskly to her will. Finally, when the radio looked like a bad hair day at Tektronix, she said, “Try it now.”
“November alpha 2-7, this is Delta Golf Sierra, come in.” Gordon repeated the call.
“DGS, this is 2-7,” the speaker shot back. “What are you transmitting with? You’re crackin’ the meter.”
The Scruffies glanced at Gadget, who returned a smug smile.
“Never mind that,” Gary said. “Put me through to Chucky. Right now.”
Only seconds passed before a deep, gravelly voice came in and curtly said, “Omega.”
“Chucky!” said Gary with pretended warmth. “Long time, no smile. Listen, we’ve got Gadget Hackwrench in the chopper. We’re heading up to the MHD symposium at Lake Pyramid Lodge. Whatever got Stan killed is going down at the symposium. We need to get cleared in.”
“BREAK LEFT!” Gordon shouted. Gary made a stomach-spinning turn as a rocket streaked by.
“Doggone Marines,” said Gordon. “They’re set up a long ways out. Why didn’t they raise us on the radio?”
He looked down at the birds nest in the center console and then up at a chagrined Gadget.
“Oops.” said Gadget. “I guess I knocked out the other radios with the power boost. Sorry.”
“Delta Golf Sierra,” came the radio. “You are now cleared to enter the security zone. You two are now in charge of the security detail. Take any measures necessary to protect the participants.”
“Thanks, Chucky. We’re on it,” said Gary.
“Boy, he works fast,” Gadget said.
“Yeah,” Gary answered, with no warmth in his voice. “Fast enough to get you killed before you know it.”
Gary planted the helicopter on the landing pad. He and Gordon were out before the rotors could stop.
“Captain of the guard!” shouted Gordon. “Give me a two-section flying squad!”
“Bring me that guest roster,” Gary called. “Who hasn’t checked in?”
Gadget climbed down and quickly saw that she’d be swallowed up in the hubbub. She made her decision.
“Guys! I’m going up to the conference center!”
“Keep your headset on,” Gary called. “We’ll hear everything you say.”
She turned and took off at a dead run. Her main thought: Be there when it happens.
Gary watched her race off and shouted to Gordon. “Hey! Did we get her a weapon?”
“Don’t worry,” Gordon answered. “Somewhere, she’ll find a pillow.”
Gadget quickly closed on the conference complex. It had remained hidden from human eyes for decades. Easily a dozen buildings, some modern, some dating back to the 1930’s, were scattered about the manicured grounds. Gadget made for the largest, the main auditorium.
As she approached, she spotted Professor Hamilton, a graying mouse, uncomfortable in his dress suit, looking, as usual, flustered.
“Professor!” she called. “Is everything all right? I mean, has anything happened?”
“Oh, my, Miss Hackwrench. You certainly do get about swiftly, don’t you? Let’s see, Dr. Spengler lost his glasses and had to send for a new pair, Prof. Barnhart complained that someone has been sneaking into his office and solving his equations before he can...”
“No Professor,” she said, smiling at the old dear. “Has anything serious happened? Anyone hurt or missing?”
“Why, no, no,” he answered. “Should someone be?”
“I hope not, Professor. Watch for the security force.” Then into the headset, “Guys, I’m heading backstage.”
“I copy, Gadget,” said Gary.
Gadget went in a side door and slipped behind the curtains. The stage itself was bare except for a lectern. She cautiously made her way into the wings, then across the rear of the stage. There was no sign of anyone.
She addressed the headset again. “Gary, the backstage is clear. I’m going upstairs to the fly room.”
“Okay. Be careful.”
Gadget took the stairs two at a time, then stopped at the top and listened. A breeze from the fly room carried the dusty smell of acres of fabric from the curtains. The lights were out on the upper floor, but something had moved ahead of her. Maybe an employee. Maybe...
“GADGET!...” Gary bellowed through her headset just as she saw the fist swing from her left. She ducked, the blow sweeping through her hair but missing her skull. The headset went clattering into the dark.
Gadget didn’t turn back, and saved herself from being smashed by the body slam of a second attack by a rat the size of a sumo wrestler. She darted forward, and another massive hand grabbed for her from the right. Gadget ducked through the door to the fly room, vaulted over the pinrail that held the lines for the curtains above the stage, and onto the narrow catwalk high above the stage. On her way out, she grabbed a line and trailed it behind her. Another sumo-sized thug pursued her. As she felt the line in her hand grow taut, she nimbly stepped up on the railing and over into thin air, the thug sprawling in a missed tackle. Gadget swung on the line back toward the pinrail, where yet another huge rodent stepped into the doorway. She aimed her heels for him and hit him in the chest at full speed, sending him sliding into the opposite wall.
Another arm swiped at her from the darkness. She narrowly evaded it and made a run for the door to the balcony. She felt, rather than heard, a massive form closing on her from behind and dodged, careening off the wall as the rat got a facefull of floor. As Gadget sprang over him and twisted forward, she was brought up short. The thug had her by the ankle. She lunged again, her fingers just millimeters from a fire alarm. Then she was hit full force from behind and was driven into the floor, bringing out the stars.
She didn’t lose consciousness, and was instantly dragged to her feet and hustled along the hallway. The two males pushed her into a dimly lit equipment room, where a giant ventilation fan whirred. At least six other huge rats crowded in.
“Hold her tight, boys. She’s slippery.”
Gadget recognized the female voice. In disbelief, she was beginning to whisper the name even before the diminutive figure stepped into the light.
“Lahwhinie!”
It was indeed Gadget’s identical twin, dressed in a gray business suit. For Gadget, seeing her was like gazing into a carnival mirror that left her image perfect, but distorted her soul.
“That’s right, ‘sister,’” Lahwhinie said with considerable venom. “I’m so happy you remember me. You’ve cost me more than you can imagine, and I don’t want to go over old accounts before we settle up.”
“That’s why Stan Kellerman fought so hard,” Gadget said. “He took one look at you, and knew you’d be out to kill me, even if he didn’t know why.”
“Hahahaha!” It was eerie for Gadget to hear her own laughter come from Lahwhinie. “The heroes always ask ‘why.’ And do you know why I’ll tell you why? Because it will make your dying all the sweeter for me.
“I won’t trouble you with the details. Suffice to say that I have made a deal for wealth beyond even my imagining. And all I have to do to collect is to kill everyone at this conference.”
“You can’t be serious!” Gadget protested. “You can’t gain by killing all these people!”
“Ohh, you dear, innocent thing,” Lahwhinie said. “You pay so little attention to the wider world. There are certain interests that want to keep traditional energy sources scarce and expensive. MHD jeopardizes their cash flow. What’s a few hundred lives when the wealth of the ages is at stake?
“You know ‘sister,’” Lahwhinie went on, “I really have you to thank for this. Once you were on the the guest list, I could walk right in with my entourage without a security check. No one would ever suspect Gadget Hackwrench of bringing in, say, a nerve gas canister.”
Gadget felt her fur crawl as one of the sumo thugs produced a slim pressurized cylinder. Gadget couldn’t read the script on it, but the warning labels were clear in any language.
“I couldn’t afford,” Lahwhinie said, “to have you show up here, so I wanted you out of the way, not to mention extracting the exact location of this little gathering. But, that ridiculous security man had to go and re-enact the last ten minutes of Gladiator, and by the time we found your home, you had gone into hiding. But it’s all worked out for the best. Your friend Chip left the location where my boys could find it without even waking him up. And I knew you’d deliver yourself to the chopping block. You’re a Rescue Ranger!”
Lahwhinie turned to her henchrat. “Get some rope. Tie that cylinder to her neck.” She turned and came minty-breath close to Gadget. “I’m told that the gas has the scent of lavender, dear ‘sister.’ It’ll be the last earthly sensation you ever have before it eats out your brain.”
There were no snappy lines. No heroic poses. A thug flying through the air like a javelin was the only introduction the Two Scruffy Guys gave.
The fight was on. Gadget joined in by smashing her heel into an instep and pulling free from one thug, then sending the other flying with a jujitsu flip. The sharp THA-POK of Crosman guns reverberated in the enclosed space. Bodies, active and inert, were in motion in every direction. Gadget looked for the cylinder and saw it in Lahwhinie’s arms as she scooted through a heavy steel fire door.
“Gary, Gordon, the roof!” Gadget yelled as she pursued Lahwhinie. Gadget just got her arm into the door as it slammed shut. She cried out, but didn’t feel bones break. She went through and dashed up the steel stairs. Behind her Gordon missed catching the door before it closed and locked.
Gadget hit the top of the stairs and turned to pursue Lahwhinie. Lahwhinie abruptly dropped the cylinder in front of a huge intake fan and drew a wicked saw-toothed knife. Gadget skidded to a halt, barely avoiding a vicious slash. As both settled into fighting stances, Gadget noticed a dark stain at the hilt of Lahwhinie’s knife. Dried blood. Stan Kellerman’s blood. Gadget’s jaw set in grim resolve. She had wrestled with Monty; she had sparred at kickboxing with Chip and Dale, simultaneously; and to play tag with Zipper, you had to be both nimble and fast. She had won her share of all those contests. Now she would find out if they applied when lives were at stake.
Lahwhinie swung the knife in lazy circles, using the edge instead of the point. Gadget maneuvered to stay clear and close enough to exploit an opening, wishing briefly she had at least taken up Gordon’s offer as far as a can of pepper spray.
Lahwhinie, frustrated by Gadget’s evasion, rushed in. Gadget blocked, dodged, then aimed a kick for Lahwhinie ’s elbow. The knife went flying. Gadget zigged to cut her off from the knife, but Lahwhinie zagged away. And Gadget saw her aim too late. Lahwhinie was after the nerve gas tank.
Lahwhinie pushed a button on the cylinder, and it emitted a loud squeak. Gadget rushed in, but Lahwhinie rolled clear. Gadget grabbed the cylinder and saw the timer running down from two minutes. She knew there wouldn’t be an off switch, but maybe she could...
Lahwhinie grabbed Gadget’s hair from behind and pulled savagely. In an instant, the knife was at Gadget’s throat, pressing in on her pulsing artery.
“No.” said Lahwhinie. “You don’t die this easy. You’ll stay right there trying to stop the clock until the gas takes you. That’s what heroes always do.”
Lahwhinie let go and sprinted to a maintenance ladder that led to the ground. She paused just a moment to shout, “Lavender, Gadget!” And she was gone.
Gadget didn’t hesitate. The moment Lahwhinie let her go, she attacked the timer with a screwdriver. She could see the seconds running out. She ignored the screw heads and pried mightily on the front panel until it rattled loose. Time fleeing, she thought: Shoot, and I always liked lavender, too.
Then her screwdriver found her goal, her salvation. In an instant, she popped out the batteries. She saw the timer read :37 just before it went dead for good.
A series of THA-POK’s rang from below, and Gadget looked back to see Gary’s head poke over the building edge. He swung up almost casually and sprinted to Gadget’s side.
“Are you all right? Any injuries?” Gary said.
“I think I’m okay,” Gadget said. “Watch out for that cylinder. Lahwhinie said it was loaded with nerve gas.”
Gary quickly and expertly examined the cylinder without making contact. “It seems to be safe. We’ll leave it for the ordnance people to dispose of.”
“How did you get to me so fast? I didn’t have time to say a word,” Gadget said.
“You mean besides the sound of your headset hitting the floor? We found you’d already checked in. You couldn’t have checked in when you were with us.”
“Gary, did you catch Lahwhinie? The one that looks like me? She’s responsible for Stan’s death and all of this.”
Gary tapped his headset. “Hey, Groucho. Did you get Gadget’s double?” He shook his head. “She made it to a fast car and they broke through the perimeter. No one could see who was driving, but it wasn’t her.” He looked over at the cylinder again. “This can be an ugly business, Gadget. I’m honestly glad you won’t have to be a part of it.”
“What are you talking about?” Gadget said incredulously. “People would have died here today if not for us. I want to be a part of that. It’s why I’m a Rescue Ranger.”
“Be careful, or you’ll end up a Scruffy Guy, too.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” she said proudly. “I can be just as scruffy as you two.”
They exited the building together and found Gordon directing Marines in chemical warfare suits to the roof. On seeing them Gadget realized how close a game it had all been.
“Oh, gosh!” Gadget squeaked. “Gary, what time is it?”
“Eleven-fifty.”
“All this, and I’m still going to miss my speech.”
“No. you’re not,” Gordon said as he waved in a Marine bearing a parcel. “We plan for every contingency, including success.” He opened the parcel and pulled out a perfect business suit and shoes.
“Guaranteed to fit, and you have time. No one’s going in there until that cylinder’s removed.”
“And if you need more time,” Gordon said, “We’ll stall ‘em. Set fire to the curtains or something.”
Gadget smiled and shook her head. “Thanks, guys. Be right back.”
* * *
Two hours later, the Scruffies watched Gadget as she wrapped up her keynote speech. They were joined by a gray furred, white-haired mouse wearing an eye patch, who gave the impression that he considered drill sergeants and hand grenades to be a balanced breakfast.
“Hi, Chucky,” said Gary icily. “What brings you out in the sunlight?”
“For once, you bums,” Chucky rasped, “I thought I’d see some live heroes.”
Gary looked at the small box in Chucky’s hand. “Well, at least you’ve got style.”
They turned their attention to Gadget on stage. “In conclusion, I need only point out that MHD technology promises to be safe, clean and remarkably efficient. It is now within our reach. My hope is that this symposium will place it in our hands. Thank you.”
Applause rose from the assembly. Chucky growled, “Come on, you two,” and led the way on stage.
Gadget stepped aside as Chucky stepped behind the lectern, though his voice hardly needed amplification.
“If you would all remain for just a few minutes. Given that everyone here has sufficient security clearances, and are the beneficiaries of this action, you should hear this.” He took out a paper and read: “By order of, and on behalf of, The President...”
“MARINES! A-TEN-SHUT!” called the Captain. Old soldiers in the audience also stood. Then the whole assembly was on it’s feet.
“‘... For exceptional gallantry and intrepidity, at great risk of life and limb, upon service of a classified nature.’ This citation to accompany the award of the Seibert Star to Gadget Hackwrench.” He turned to the thunderstruck mouse and found he almost had to pin the medal to her shoulder to make it drape properly.
Chucky whispered to her, “You understand, you can’t tell anyone about this until all of this is declassified. But you have earned it, and it’s yours. Along with our deepest gratitude.”
As applause and even cheers rose from the audience, the Scruffies stepped over to Gadget and escorted her from the stage. The moment they hit the wings, they piped up.
“Ach! Look Papa!” said Gordon. “Our little Trixie, all grown up and vinning medals.”
“Ja, Mama,” said Gary. “She isht a mighty varrior now!”
“Leave it to you two to keep my life in perspective,” she said smiling.
“Hold it, you buzzards,” Chucky warned. “You have one more assignment. See to it that Miss Hackwrench gets home. Safely!”
“Your wish is our command, Chucky,” said Gary. Then to Gadget, “You want to fly the chopper home?”
“Can I? Really!?” Gadget said.
“Absolutely,” said Gordon. “Wring ‘er out.”
For the first time that weekend, they saw Gadget really smile. And they both made mental notations for their Christmas list. For Gadget - Airplane rides.
“And you guys think you fly fast,” Gadget said.
* * *
The chopper set down a short distance from Ranger Headquarters, and the three
of them dismounted. Gadget stood facing the Scrufies with a duffel bag of her
new clothes.
“We’ll leave you here,” Gordon said. “We’d take a lot of explaining to your friends, and, as you know, we’re not good at meeting people.”
“We want you to have this,” Gary said. He handed her a small business card that bore no name or address. Just a couple of telephone numbers and a quote that Gadget read aloud.
“‘When danger threatens, call on me.’ Singular?”
“It keeps the opposition guessing. They forget to watch their backs,” Gordon said.
“Is this The Phone That Should Never Ring?” Gadget asked.
“Along with our back line. You can call anytime,” said Gary.
“If there’s ever a next time, you can use the front door,” Gadget said, then added softly, “But you’re welcome at my window.”
After a moment she said, “Well. Bye,” There seemed no more to say.
“Ah-ah,” Gary said. “Au revoir.”
The Scruffies turned and climbed in the chopper, fired up and lifted off. Gadget watched and waved as they circled once, then flew swiftly north.
Gadget walked slowly across the landing deck toward home, savoring the sight of her own front door. She gently ran her fingers down the side of the RangerWing as she passed, made her way to the front door and stepped in.
No one was in the front room, and she fell back against the closed door, relieved to be home at last. There were things to keep silent about. And things that had to be said.
“When the time is right,” she whispered to herself. Then she took a deep breath and called out happily, “Hey guys! I’m home!