This story (probably like all stories) was a just a small idea that I had one day, which, as I began to write it out for the Disney apa "Where The Fun Begins", quickly grew into the saga that you now see before you. A saga which took me over two years to complete. At any rate, right off the bat, I would like to thank Jeff Pierce, my editor at WTFB (JJpierce@aol.com) again for the patience that he gave me as I worked this story along from issue to issue, giving comments and suggestions along the way. Much thanks also are due to Dot wrnr (Dot wrnr@aol.com) for taking all the time that she did to edit this story for errors and to give comments and suggestions. Thanks also to Esbeckras (esbeckras@aol.com) for her input as well. Please feel free to distribute this story to whoever and wherever you the reader, might feel that people would enjoy it. Rescue Rangers and all related Disney material and characters are of course, trademarked by the Walt Disney company, and you guys know the rest. And now, what many who know me consider to be my "Magnum Opus", a Rescue Ranger story the likes of which I doubt would ever have been shown on TDA....a mystery thriller that I called....... *Rhyme and Reason*. It is said that the worst kind of terror is that which strikes in your own home. It is also said that you should be careful what you wish for, *since you just might get it*. One of the Rescue Rangers is about to discover these truths.........*firsthand*. RHYME&REASON BY MICHAEL DEMCIO Part I - Opening Moves. Part 1 of 3 It was a sleepy fall morning. Bright and clear, but with a cool crispness in the air that spoke of the changing of the seasons. The sun's gentle early rays glistened into the windows of Rescue Ranger headquarters, dispersing the darkness of the night, and slowly awakening one of its residents. Chip blinked against the daylight streaming into the room, his eyes focusing as he slowly came awake. Contentedly, he yawned and stretched as far as he could. Then, snuggling deeply once more into the blankets, enjoying the sensation of their warmth, he rolled over on his side to gaze out the window. /Well here it is,/ Chip thought, smiling to himself. /*my birthday*. Has it really been more than two years already?/ he mused to himself wonderingly, thinking on how quickly the time had flown by since he and Dale had met Gadget, Monterey, and Zipper, and formed The Rescue Rangers. Over that time, each of them had become as close to him as Dale had been before they all had met. Each of them was, in his or her own right one of his best friends, like no other friend could ever be. They had become like a family over that time. Both to him, and to each other. Thinking fondly for awhile about the past two birthdays he'd spent with his teammates, in addition to all the adventures, and hardships, celebrations and quiet moments they'd shared with one another, Chip rolled out of bed, a shiver running through him as his body adjusted to the slight nip in the air. "Better turn the heat up a bit." he murmured to himself, rubbing his arms. Glancing up as he removed his nightshirt and cap, he spied Dale's empty bunk bed, his blanket laying in it's usual crumpled heap atop it. The untidiness of the unmade bed was no surprise to Chip, as Dale seldom fixed it without being asked to. His sloppiness was as ingrained in him as was Monterey's craving for cheese. The absence of his oldest friend however, *was*. "That's odd." Chip mumbled, still staring at the upper bunk, as he reflexively grabbed and donned his familiar bomber jacket and fedora. Dale was not by any stretch of the imagination, an early riser. Even when he went to bed at a normal hour, if he didn't stay up half the night in bed reading comic books, he still normally needed someone to nudge him awake in the morning. Without such a wake up call, he would more than likely snooze his way into midday or even later. Dale was one of the best, all time, hard core, late sleepers that Chip had ever known. Unless there was a darn good reason for him to do so, (for Chip, like the others, knew that when Dale put his mind to something, he could overcome even his worst fears or habits) Dale would never have gotten up at this time......... *Unless something was wrong*........... A concerned look creasing his brow at the thought, Chip tossed his nightclothes onto his bed and slipped out the door to investigate. Moving silently down the hallway, he systematically checked the bathroom, the exercise room, the upstairs outside terrace, the hangar, and even Gadget's workshop. Normally, he knew that Dale would have had little or no reason to enter Gadget's workshop. Remembering as he checked the terrace though, that they had watched a new Dirk Suave movie last night, he thought that Dale might have taken up the idea of making more spy equipment for his use as had happened the last time a number of months back.* Even this idea though proved to no avail as he moved to check the forward portion of the treehouse. The living room, he also saw as he entered it, was empty. /Must be in the kitchen getting an early breakfast./ He reasoned after checking the outside landing pad, the eerie feeling in the back of his mind starting to subside. /Figures. Though after all the popcorn he inhaled during the movie last night, you would think that he had enough food in him to last the winter./ Chip shook his head in amazement, a grin spreading over his face. When it came to eating, sleeping, and being lazy, Dale was almost as bad as that cat in the comics! As he passed back through the living room area, he glanced at one of the watches hanging upon the wall. It was 7:00. Walking toward the kitchen, Chip's grin spread a bit farther as he pondered another thought. /In a race to get a chocolate covered cheesecake,/ he mused, /I wonder who would win, Monty, Dale, or that cat....*if he were real,*/ he added to himself with a mental shrug. Lost in the thought of such a race, he almost didn't notice the closed kitchen door, stopping himself short right before bumping into it. Staring at the closed door, Chip quirked a bemused eyebrow at it. The only time the kitchen door was ever closed was when Monterey was cooking up a new dish and didn't want to be disturbed. Dale couldn't be in there with him, since Monterey always worked alone when he was creating something new. Though if Monterey was in the kitchen,.....*then where was Dale?* The only place he hadn't checked so far out of the entire treehouse, was Gadget's and Monterey's rooms, though why he might be in either place at this hour was beyond him. He was about to turn from the door to head back in the direction of the bedrooms when something touched his foot. Looking down, he saw a small puddle oozing out from under the doorway. A small, thick, *RED* puddle. *Unless something was wrong*...........the thought from a few minutes back flashed through his mind again as eyes grew wide with shock, his heart leaping into his throat. Fearing the worst, Chip seized the door handle and bolted into the room. The door halted abruptly with a thump a quarter of the way open as it ran into something solid, followed immediately by an ear shattering crash. Cringing against the din, Chip hastily pushed the door the rest of the way open, to discover his friend laying facefirst on the floor in the dim light...lying in a dark, red puddle. Chip was by his side in an instant. "Dale! Dale! Are you alright?! *Speak to me!*" Chip cried, rolling him over onto his back as he quickly looked him over. A chill ran through him as he stared at the dark red splotches on Dale's chest. Weakly, Dale opened his eyes. "Give me a day and I'll let you know." Dale mumbled, grimacing. "Oh-no!" he cried suddenly, his eyes lighting up as he stared up at Chip's face. "Chip?! What're *you* doing in here?!" he asked in an alarmed tone. Chip blinked, looking taken aback as Dale slowly sat up. "What am *I* doing in here?!" Chip stated, repeating the question in an almost irritated tone, "I'm sa-" Chip broke off as he looked around for the first time since barging in. Besides them, there was no-one else in the room. All around them though, were broken glasses and dishes, as well as spilled food of many types. "I was making you breakfast for your birthday." Dale stated as he watched Chip come to the same conclusion. "I was carrying it out the door to surprise you with breakfast in bed when the door hit me on the head." he finished, narrowing his eyes and rubbing the back of his head gently. Chip whipped his gaze back around to face him, his eyes wide. "Then you..." he said pointing to the red across Dale's chest, "and that puddle under you....." Chip stammered uncertainly, pointing toward the door, "I spilled some tomato juice." Dale finished for him, rubbing a hand across his chest as well. "Here too." he added. Chip slapped a hand over his eyes as his cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. /I don't get it! I was *so certain!*/ Chip thought. Even now, a small part of the sensation still remained. "I'm sorry, Dale." Chip grinned at him sheepishly as he removed his hand. "For some reason, I had this nagging thought that you were in some sort of trouble, and when I saw that puddle from under the door..." Chip broke off once more. Dale grinned back at him, with an understanding gaze. "I gotcha, Chip." Dale said nodding, as Chip stood and helped him to his feet. "Well *I'm* okay." he added with a chuckle, giving Chip a humorous look as he swept a hand at the mess around them, "But I'm afraid *your breakfast* is a goner." The two chipmunks laughed at this, when a few seconds later, the kitchen door which had closed partially, slammed open once more to reveal a very alarmed, Monterey Jack, Gadget, and Zipper. "*What's going on here, mates?!*" Monterey demanded as the three rangers rushed into the room. "We heard a crash." Gadget added, looking around at them and the mess. "Are you guys okay?" she asked with concern. "It's nothing guys. We're okay." Dale said with an assuring, humorous look, before stooping to pick up some of the broken plate pieces. "I thought he was in trouble." Chip said with a shrug, his cheeks reddening as he started to help Dale clean up. "From making breakfast?" Zipper said, scratching his head, "Never mind." Chip replied, shaking his head, wishing that this whole had scene never happened. "I just had a bad feeling that something was wrong. I rushed in and crashed into him at the door." Remembering a conversation that he'd had with Foxglove soon after he had first met her, about how the other Rangers wouldn't let him cook because they were afraid he would break too many dishes** Dale remarked to the others as they joined in the cleanup, "Looks like we're going to have to worry about *Chip* breaking dishes for me now." Chip blushed once again as the others laughed. "Great way to start your birthday, huh, Chip?" Dale teased his best friend, grinning at him. 7:10..... After cleaning up the kitchen an warmly wishing Chip a happy birthday, everyone reluctantly sat down while Dale insisted that he make breakfast for everyone as well as Chip. Fully expecting Dale to burn and/or ruin the fruit, the juice, the main course, and everything else in between, but being too polite to say anything after their gentle attempts to disuade him, the four Rangers all gave each other silent looks of remorse as they waited to choke down another one of Dale's charred repasts. They had suffered through one once before, and to say the least, it hadn't been pleasant. Chip was given the majority of the sorrowful looks, for all thought that such a meal was an even more bitter pill to swallow if it was made on one's birthday. To the surprise of all however, their fears were proved unfounded when Dale served up a fantastically mouth watering breakfast, that was as good to look at as it was to eat, including a new dish that he had dubbed "Triple fruit flapjacks". This curious new concoction turned out to be one of the best things that any of the Rangers had ever tasted in quite some time. Needless to say, the four teammates were all more than sufficiently shocked. "What did you *do*, Dale?" Chip asked, reaching for his forth serving, having wolfed down his first three as though he hadn't eaten in days, "Start reading cooking comic books?" "Very funny." Dale replied from the stove as he made up another batch of the flapjacks for everyone. "Seriously though, mate," Monterey added to Chip's statement as he and Zipper each grabbed for another stack of the pancakes, "what *did* happen? Beside breaking dishes, you couldn't *boil water* before without burning it. Cooking was *not* your best talent." "Everyone's a critic!" Dale said with mock sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. "If you really want to know, I've been taking cooking lessons from Tammy^ on the sly for the past few weeks, to give Chip a little extra treat for his birthday." "Ah." the others intoned, the realization sinking in as Chip grinned with fond warmth at his friend for his consideration. Tammy was one of the best cooks they knew. A natural with food, if anyone could have taught Dale a thing or two about cooking, she would have been the best choice. "I wanted to surprise Chip with it today," Dale said continuing,"but he ended up surprising *me* instead." he finished with a laugh. Finishing the bite he had taken, Chip swallowed hard, not from the food, but from embarrassment. "You should taste some of the things she's made!" Dale continued as he sat down with another batch of flapjacks and proceeded to take some. "This is practically nothing compared to some of the other stuff she's shown me!" "Speaking of nothing," Gadget said, spearing another flapjack, "We did agree to take a break from case work and just relax today, right?" "Right." the others chorused. "Good," she continued as she poured herself another glass of pineapple juice, "because there's an invention I'd really like to get started on today and I'm going to need your help bringing some parts up to my workshop." "Sure." Zipper said as the others simply nodded, their mouths still full. "Just as soon as we're done here......." Monterey added, swallowing, as he took yet another stack of flapjacks while Chip and Zipper sat, waiting to follow suit. "......which....... might be a little while yet." Gadget realized, looking around with a grin, as she too, started on a new batch of hotcakes. "I don't think anyone's anywhere *near* full." ***** Part 2 of 3 8:30..... Between lavishing praises on Dale about his unexpectedly good cooking, the eating, and the conversation in which they reminisced about previous cases and humorous moments together, breakfast was a leisurely hour and a half before they were finished. Another five minutes, and Monterey, Gadget and Zipper were dressed and ready. Proceeding with Gadget to the junkyard via the Rangerwing, they flew low through and around the mountains of discarded cars, appliances, and assorted junk, until Gadget spotted what she was looking for. "There it is." Gadget said, looking down from the pilot seat as the Rangerwing swept past the object in question. Banking the plane into a tight turn, Gadget once again approached the object, putting the Rangerwing into hover mode and dropping them down when they were almost directly over it. "A boom box?" Chip said as he saw for certain what they were landing next to, upon the large mountain of discarded objects. "What do you need *that* for Gadget?" "Well," Gadget said as she made sure that the plane was secure upon the uneven pile before stopping the engines and getting out, "I'm working on a idea for an invention that'll help us locate a burglar's trail using sound waves. You see,...by extrapolating the right E.M. frequency from the band width and channeling the frequency at the right altitude through an isoliniar chip connected to reverse polarity speakers-" she began, falling into her reflexive manner of speaking in rushed technical jargon when describing an invention or an idea. "Ahhh....that's okay Gadget." Chip said interrupting her, "It's a little hard to picture it. Why don't we wait until you're done with it before you start explaining how it works." "Okay." Gadget said cheerfully before making her way to the dilapidated music box. Watching her move away from them, Chip gave a look in Monterey's direction, letting out an exaggerated breath of relief. Monterey, Dale and Zipper chuckled to himself at Chip's expression, and nodded back. Unless one had an excellent grasp of most every aspect of physics and mechanics, it was usually better not to ask Gadget how one of her inventions worked,....*or what she needed something for.* Giving the boom box a thorough going over, Gadget nodded with satisfaction. The case was cracked in almost half a dozen places. Wires were hanging out from every crevice, and one of the speakers appeared to be totally blown, as though it had suffered through some of Dale's heavy metal music at full volume. "It's *perfect!*" Gadget stated enthusiastically as she turned to the others, "Let's get it airborne." Wrapping some thick cloth straps around the handle of the music box and securing the straps to the Rangerwing, they slowly lifted Gadget's prize into the air and carried it back to Ranger headquarters. There, Monterey, Dale, Zipper and Chip pulled it into the side entrance to Gadget's workshop, after Gadget, hovering near the entrance, had released the straps. Another two trips to the junkyard to pick up some spare parts from other, similar boom boxes, and retrieving some rubber tubing, glass test tubes, and a large thermos with a hole in its side as well, and they were done, a little more than an hour after they had first left. This time, Chip thought better than deciding to ask what Gadget needed any of the other items for. 9:30..... "I don't know about you," Zipper said, wiping the sweat from his brow, after they had finished lugging the last piece of equipment inside from the Rangerwing to where Gadget had indicated where she wanted it, "but I could use a bit of a snack. All that work got my appetite worked up again." "Same here." Dale chimed in. "Meet me in the kitchen. Tammy showed me this fantastic hot snack she created that only takes two minutes to make. You guys'll love it!" With that, Dale was off while the others waited for Gadget to land the plane. "Well," Chip quipped to Monterey, Zipper and Gadget as Dale disappeared from sight, "at least *now* he can put his mind being on food most of the time to good use." Two minutes later as promised, the Rangers were noshing on yet another of Dale's lessons from Tammy, the food hitting the spot after all their hard work. "You were right, Dale!" Zipper said admiringly as he grabbed yet another helping of the snack that Tammy as yet, had not named. "This really is fantastic!" "Looks like we've got a new chef!" Gadget said jokingly, giving a meaningful glance in Monterey's direction. "Here now luv," Monterey replied, with an air of pride. "Don't count me out of the kitchen yet. If my little pally here can learn a few new tricks of the table, then so can I. In fact," Monterey said continuing, "I have a recipe that me mum gave me, last time she was about. Wanted to save it for the next special occasion which today certainly is, but I got to pick up a few things at the store first." He turned to Zipper with a smile. "How about giving me a hand with the shopping, Zipper me lad?" he said nonchalantly, giving him a hard stare as he quickly flicked his eyes at Chip. Zipper's eyes widened slightly as he caught the cue. "Shopping? Oh, sure!" he squeaked as innocently as possible as he flew up from the table, "Ready when you are, Monty!" Watching as the pair left the room, Chip turned to look at Gadget as she dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. "Do you need any help with your invention, Gadget?" he asked in a curious, helpful tone. "Nope." Gadget answered shaking her head simply. "Why?" "I was figuring I'd spend some time relaxing on the terrace. I just wanted to know if you needed anything I could help with." Chip explained. "Nope. Thanks though, Chip." Gadget answered, shaking her head again. At this reply, Chip was about to speak again when Dale suddenly stood up. "I have to take care of something in my room. I'll see you guys in a little bit." he said before trotting off. As they watched him go, Gadget mumbled to Chip in a low voice, "Probably going off to re-read the comic books that he got yesterday." She stated in a tone of resignation. Chip nodded in affirmation of her guess. He knew that in Gadget's opinion, to say nothing of his own, Dale always spent too much of his free time immersed in the horror tales and stories of super heroes that he enjoyed so much. Neither of them would have minded Dale's hobby at all otherwise, but there was one catch. As was usually the case, he took his heroes and horror tales so seriously, they normally served to make his slightly overactive imagination run away with him at times. As this was a fact that Dale would never admit to if he even realized it, these stories could mean and had meant trouble for them in the past.<> "What else?" Chip mumbled back with a shrug and a grin. For the team as well as his friend's own good, he had tried many times before to get Dale to cut back on his comic books, television, and movies, knowing how they fed his imagination. All his efforts though had only ended in vain, only serving to increase his level of frustration to a point of hostility as he saw his actions and words go in one of Dale's ears, and right out the other. Trying to seperate Dale from his media habit, or even to wean him away from any of them, appeared to have odds as good as trying to keep Monterey from a pile of cheese. The best they could try to do was to keep his imagination in check when they saw it beginning to run away with him. "It still amazes me how *obsessed* he gets with those things," Gadget stated in a now normal voice, once she was certain Dale was out of earshot. "when there's so many other ways to spend your time." Inwardly, Chip quirked a curious eyebrow to himself at Gadget's observation, thinking how much free time she always spent in her workshop, almost "obsessing" in way herself, over the inventions that she so loved to create. He said nothing of the insightful parallel though, since each of them, he knew, had at least one thing they were more or less "obsessed" about. "Speaking of which," Chip replied, turning back to face her once more, "are you going to be working at your invention for awhile?" he asked curiously. "I need to put a little time into it." she answered factually. "Why?" Giving her a meaningful look, Chip responded, "I just thought that it was the perfect type of day for a walk through the park....Interested?" he asked, smiling coyly as he looked deep into her eyes. "Maybe." Gadget said smiling back, blushing slightly, "I have to see how much I can get done. We do have other things we have to do today." "Other things involving.........*presents?*" he asked, his smile turning into a sly grin as cocked an eyebrow at her. "Maaaaaybe." she stated playfully, as she stood up. "I'll let you know about that walk." she continued, patting his hand affectionately before she left the table. "We'll see how the time goes." As Chip watched her go, a sudden involuntary shiver ran through him. He didn't know why, but something about what Gadget had just said, set off that same eerie feeling that he had had before with Dale. That something was wrong. Only this time, the feeling was directed at Gadget. 10:00..... Having no basis on which to back up the odd feeling, and not wanting to look foolish again, Chip discretely decided to check on Gadget through the outside window to her workshop. Peeking in, he saw her contentedly enmeshed within a mass of wires, cogs, and springs, from the now opened radio and tape player, as well as other spare parts surrounding her, as she diligently worked to create her latest masterpiece. As he watched, one thing became increasingly clear to him. That fact being that Gadget was *in no imminent danger whatsoever*. Clinging to the tree outside, Chip shook his head in confusion as he looked in once more. There wasn't even electricity running to the components of the device that Gadget was creating. The unconnected plugs were clearly visible from where he was. Still, as it had been with Dale, both before as well as after the accident, the ominous, unexplainable feeling was still there. /Maybe I didn't get enough sleep last night./ Chip wondered with a befuddled look, scratching his head. 10:05..... Seeing that these strange premonitions were obviously a figment of his imagination, Chip tried his best to dismiss the feeling, but a small aura of it still lingered around the fringes of his consciousness. Pushing it away with a slight sense of annoyance by sheer force of will, he grabbed his favorite book, *The complete adventures of Sherlock Jones*, and headed for the small, outside upstairs terrace. Ten minutes later, as he delved into the book he had read so many times, the feeling was forgotten altogether. Stretching out leisurely on the lounge chair situated upon the terrace, Chip inhaled deeply as he savored the brisk air. /This is the life./ Chip thought to himself with a satisfied smile, Fresh air, sunshine, and a good mystery. he sighed. Turning his attention back to the book, a rush of exhilaration ran through him. It didn't matter how many times he read these stories, he always got caught up in them as he followed Detective Jones and Dr. Blotson along the path of the criminal trail left to them. Grinning even farther, he read aloud as Detective Jones uttered one of his most famous lines of all time, not to mention it being Chip's personal favorite, "There is nothing more stimulating, than a case where everything goes against me." The mystery deepened...... 11:00..... Finishing the story he had started on, he was halfway through another when suddenly, his ears caught a strange noise from below. Setting down the book in which Jones had just finished unintentionally scaring Dr. Blotson in another one of his famous disguises, he rose from the lounge chair. Peering over the edge of the terrace, he caught sight of Monterey on the ground at the base of the tree. A large object stood near him. The object was almost as high as the mouse himself, and covered by a white plastic grocery bag. Chip continued to watch as Monterey stared up at the landing platform, only a portion of which could be seen from his position, and began tapping his foot rather anxiously. Looking around him suddenly as if he thought someone might be following him, he once more turned his attention to the landing platform, his foot resuming its tapping. "Hmm. I wonder what he's waiting for?" Chip wondered aloud. Shrugging slightly, Chip was about to return to his book to laugh once more as he always did at the frightened Dr. Blotson, when all of a sudden he froze in a silent stare at Monterey. *The feeling was back*. "No." Chip told himself sternly as he forced himself up from his haunches and began to return to the lounge chair. "I don't know what this is about, but it's only my imagination." he mumbled aloud, trying to convince himself. Sitting back down and picking up his book, he once more tried to push away the impression of impending danger as he picked up where he'd left off. Barely twenty seconds later, he found himself peering over the edge of the terrace once more, his logical mind giving in to what he now believed had to be some sense of instinct. Perhaps a misguided sense of instinct, but instinct nonetheless. /Either that or I'm cracking up./ he mused. Telling himself that he could just check on Monterey as he had on Gadget, to which he hoped the irrepressible feeling might subside, he rushed down the tree as fast as he could. Reaching the ground, he peered around the side of the tree as much as he dared, not wanting to have to explain to Monterey why he was spying on him, should his friend spot him. Monterey was still exactly where Chip had seen him from the terrace, only now he saw Monterey was standing with his arms raised skyward, his palms curling and uncurling in silent instruction. Looking up, Chip saw the Rangerplane's winch line and hook, slowly being lowered toward the ground by someone who was out of sight within the cockpit. The winch was still a few inches out of Monterey's reach as he silently indicated for more line. /I knew it, I knew it...../ Chip told himself angrily as he looked upon the innocent scene. He didn't know what they were doing,... but there was clearly about as much danger here as in watching the grass grow. Shrinking back a bit along the curve of the tree, Chip worriedly pressed his hand to his forehead. /No fever or sickness, or none that I can detect./ he thought to himself. /Maybe I *am* really starting to crack up!/ he wondered a bit more anxiously to himself this time. Taking a step back, he was about to retreat the rest of the way behind the tree when a white blur suddenly streaked into his field of vision.......... Without even taking the time to issue a warning yell, Chip darted forward around the tree, and threw himself into a flying tackle at Monterey. The burly mouse was not an easy target to move, but with throwing all his weight into the tackle and knowing the best place to strike as well, Chip succeeded in forcing his Australian friend back and to the ground, a split second before disaster would have struck. The line drive baseball shot through the area where Monterey Jack stood just a moment ago, ricocheting with a hard "crack" off the tree, before shooting off in a new direction away from the two Rescue Rangers. "I got it!" a teenage human girl shouted as she ran toward the ball, scooped it up in her mitt, and ran back from where the ball had originated. Monterey sat up, staring in shock at where, if not for Chip's timely intervention, his life might have surely ended. Turning his head toward his friend who was collecting himself after running into his solid mass which was almost as hard as the baseball after the rigorous bout of training he had put himself through, he was about to speak when Zipper whizzed down beside him, buzzing excitedly. "*Monty!*" he cried, placing his tiny hands on Monterey's cheeks. "Are you all right?!" He had seen the hurling baseball from his perch within the Rangerplane's cockpit. "Right as rain, pally." Monterey responded a bit shakily as he got to his feet, "Thanks to Chipper, here. Are you all right, mate?" he asked of Chip as he helped him to his feet. "I'm okay." Chip said, dusting himself off. "I'm just glad *you're* all right. Lucky thing I got here when I did." he finished, looking up at Monterey. "Too right!" Monterey responded, some of his gusto having returned, "You saved me right smart there, mate!" he exclaimed, trapping his friend in a hearty bear hug, "That's another one I-" Monterey stopped then, regarding Chip with a curious look in his eyes as he let Chip go. "Say," he stated, the curiosity now extending to his tone as well, "Not that I'm anywhere near complaining mind you, but what were you doing down here, pally? Zipper said that you were just reading on the-*ow*!" Monterey finished. Looking down, Monterey gently rubbed his leg from where Zipper had just kicked it. Looking down, his eyes widened as Zipper shot him a quick menacing look, and then turned in Chip's direction to flash him an innocent grin. Taking the rather obvious cue, and wishing that his mind was a sight faster than his mouth, Monterey flashed the same innocent grin towards Chip, but it was too late. /Why would they need to know where I was?/ Chip wondered to himself. Then, looking around Monterey's massive bulk, he had his answer. "What's this?" Chip asked in curiosity as he glanced around Monty toward the object that had stood beside him. When he had tackled Monty, Chip had felt his foot accidently catch in one of the loops of the plastic bag, bringing the object tumbling down with them. As it fell, it had rolled out of its plastic cover, and now stood revealed before him. It was a beautifully hand carved, and incredibly detailed wood statue of himself, dressed in a cape and hat which matched the attire of that worn by Sherlock Jones, carefully studying something unseen with a magnifying glass in hand. This scaled down version of the outfit worn by Sherlock Jones, along with an unpublished manuscript of a Sherlock Jones story, he had gotten in England. The items had been a gift to him from a dog named MacDuff, who's master the Rangers had helped in obtaining his rightful place as the heir to Baskerville Manor, the deceased owner of which, Howard Bask, had been the creator and writer of the Sherlock Jones stories.^^ In a flash, Monterey pivoted himself in front of Chip, blocking his view, and had stuffed the carving back inside its bag. "This?" Monterey chuckled nervously, flashing him the same wide, innocent grin, not knowing how much Chip had seen in his brief glimpse. "Oh, this is nothing. Nothing at all. Just-eh heh, uhh....something I dug out of my closet this morning. Oy, mate. Nothing you'd be interested in. Nothing at all. Eh, heh heh." "Okay Monty." Chip replied, playing along as he shrugged innocently. "I'll see you guys later." Watching as Chip ascended the tree, Monterey turned to Zipper hovering beside him. "Do you think he saw it? Do you think he knows?" he asked the fly, mumbling to him. Crossing his arms, Zipper shrugged before turning a reprimanding glance upon his friend. The look needed no words. "Oy." Monterey mumbled to himself as Chip entered their treehouse, "Me and me big mouth." ***** Part 3 of 3 11:05..... Inside the treehouse, Chip wandered over to the living room couch and sat down with his head in his hands, trying desperately to figure out what was going on. He still wasn't certain if he was going over the deep end or not. True his hunch had paid off and he had saved Monterey's life, but even after the fact, when he looked at him, the strange ominous feeling was still there, gnawing at his gut. Worse yet, now the suspicious feeling had extended to Zipper as well. /Maybe I'll feel better if I lay down for a bit./ he thought hopefully to himself. Wandering off in the direction of his room, he continued to ponder his dilemma. Suddenly, as before, the sensation of danger grew stronger. He was right outside his room. Remembering that Dale was inside, Chip stopped and struggled with himself for a moment, trying to put some sort of logic into the situation. The sensation of danger had saved Monterey, but what if that baseball was only a chance occurrence that had nothing to do with his hunches? he wondered. What if his "hunches" were just his mind playing tricks on him? Shaking his head clear, he rushed forward. *He couldn't go on maybes.* He would rather look like a fool than put one of the others in jeopardy. If this kept up much longer though....he didn't know if he would be able to take it. Trying the door, he found it locked. As he did, a small gasp of surprise from within the room came to his ears. His panic rising, he backed up, and throwing his weight against the door, he broke the lock open to find..........*an old female mouse, wearing ragged clothes who had to be at least in her seventies*. "Chip!" the female cried with a startled look as Chip drew himself up short before her. He blinked twice in confusion, looking startled as well as he looked her up and down. "Dale?" Chip asked, recognizing the voice as he stared at the old lady mouse. "Is that you?" "Aw Chip, what're you trying to do, spoil your own birthday?" Dale asked in an exasperated tone as the old lady frowned at him. Though he recognized the voice, Chip still could hardly believe it was Dale. The disguise was foolproof. If not for the voice, he would never had known it was Dale. "What're you talking about?.....And what are you doing in that outfit?" Chip asked, still not understanding. "I was going to give this to you for your birthday present." Dale said, sweeping his hand across the disguise and indicating a box upon Chip's bed. Walking over to the bed, Chip looked at the plaque that was fastened to the large wooden box. "The disguises of Sherlock Jones." Chip read aloud. "From his official fan club society-animal chapter." Dale continued from behind him. Turning Chip moved his attention from the box back to the old mouse before him. "I...couldn't resist trying a few on before I wrapped it." Dale admitted sheepishly. "I was going to surprise you with it, but now......." Dale trailed off, the rest of the statement obvious. "What's going on Chip?" Dale asked, now looking at him curiously, "Don't tell me you thought I was in trouble again?" He paused, looking at him as if he was trying to examine his friend's thoughts, "Or were you really that impatient to see what I was getting you?" Walking back to the door, Chip smiled what he hoped looked like a normal smile. "I'll tell you about it later, Dale." Chip said as he took the door handle in his hand. "You just continue with........whatever you were doing in here that I didn't see anything of." he rambled, looking up at the ceiling and around the room nonchalantly before closing the door. A moment later, he opened the door once more to stick his head in the room. "By the way," he said to Dale, pointing at him with a wink, and a grin. "it's you." With that, the door closed again. 11:30..... Having returned to the terrace once more, Chip sat brooding for some time now upon the lounge chair in a very foul mood. His head rested in one hand on the arm of his chair as his other hand restlessly tapped on his Sherlock Jones book now laying in his lap. The sense of danger he had been feeling all morning was still there slightly, only now it was overshadowed by something much stronger. *Anger*. Anger at the drudgery that his life had become these past few months. It was all he could think about. All because of the simple word that Dale had repeated a few minutes ago from earlier this morning: *Surprise*. There was no surprises left in his life. No mystery. *Nothing*. The last good mystery that he and the Rangers had faced that really got his "mental faculties" working, as Jones would say, was during the case of the "Ghastly Goat of Quiver Moor" that they had had down in Scotland some time ago.() Since that time, the mysteries had been few and far between, and not nearly as challenging. Usually it was just Fat Cat or Professor Nimnul or with some overblown, obvious scheme to rob the city blind. Sure it was a challenge to stop them and their gangs, but there was no mystery to it, or very little. Very little surprises. Very little real thinking or deducing. There was no doubt that he considered his job as a Rescue Ranger important and he was proud of the accomplishments he and his teammates had made. Right now though, all he knew was the feeling as though he was in a terrible rut. As a detective, a good mystery was one of the things that he lived for. It was now, as he reflected upon the cases of the past three months that he felt its strikingly obvious absense in his life. These past few weeks had been even worse. They hadn't heard a peep out Nimnul, or even Fat Cat, their two most frequently recurring adversaries, and their case work had been restricted to helping the police nab minor burglars who presented no challenge at all, to say nothing of mystery. And now, even on his own birthday, a day when things should hopefullly go his way, some outside force that he couldn't even begin to explain or get rid of, was succeeding in getting rid of the one bit of surprise and mystery that he could count on for this year-*his birthday presents*. Chip sighed heavily as he turned his attention to the book in his lap he was still tapping absently. Picking the book up to his eye level, he stared at the picture embossed on its cover. /Sherlock Jones./ Chip thought to himself, as the full picture of the detective came into his mind's eye. /You *never* had a dull case. Your days were always filled with mystery and surprises. Your enemies were always challenging you to think, to stretch yourself, to become even better than you were before so that you might catch them. Me? What do I have? Nothing./ Chip sighed heavily again. /If only I could have a lot of cases like yours with different worthy adversaries./ He thought longingly, /Cases that would challenge me like yours did for you. Or even one adversary that would let me really see what I could do as a detective. I wish I could have cases like the ones you've handled.............../He sighed deeply once more............. ............/What I wouldn't give to have *that*./ 11:59..... In the kitchen, down one level from where Chip now sat still brooding, a small meeting was taking place between the rest of the Rescue Rangers. A serious mood hung in the air over all those assembled as Gadget silently took her seat and trained her gaze upon Monterey Jack. "Is everything ready?" she asked, her tone similar to one who was preparing strategy for a battle. "Oy." Monterey answered, nodding at her, "Everything's set." Nodding her satisfaction, she turned her attention toward Dale. "Did you get everything we need, Dale?" she asked, her tone unmistakably one who did not expect or want to hear a negative answer. "No problem." Dale answered with a grin, though his tone was as serious as hers, "I got everything down to the last detail." "Good." Gadget replied. Finally, she turned her attention to Zipper. "How about you Zipper?" she said, "Did you ask? Will she do it?" she asked, looking at him expectantly. "She said she'd love to." Zipper said nodding. "Wonderful." Gadget stated, "Then all we have to do is put the plan into motion." "One problem." Monterey spoke up. "What?" Gadget said worriedly, locking her eyes onto his. Monterey raised his head to look at the ceiling as he cocked a thumb upwards as well, before looking back at Gadget. "What do we do about Chip?" Gadget turned a wry smile upon him. "We get rid of him." Dale said, answering for her, as he smiled a devilish grin. "Right." Gadget said, turning her gaze away from Monterey to fall upon Dale. "Is plan A set?" "All set." Dale answered. "And even if plan A falls short, plan B is sure to *finish* the job." "Excellent." Gadget said, rubbing her hands together in anticipation, "Then let's get starte-" *12:00.....* A knock sounded at the front door, cutting her off. "Who could *that* be?" Gadget asked with a frown, turning toward the front door though she couldn't see it through the closed kitchen door. "Beats me." Dale answered with a similiar scowl. "Everyone knows the schedule, so it couldn't be anyone we're expecting." "I'll see who it is." Monterey said, rising from his seat. Opening the front door, Monterey found a pigeon standing there before him with a small collar fastened around his neck. "Can I help ya, mate?" Monterey asked with a pleasant and curious tone. "Is this the Rescue Rangers?" the pigeon inquired. "Oy. That's what the sign says, mate." Monterey replied, hooking a thumb to the plaque fastened over the door. "Telegram for Chip." The pigeon responded, shortly. "Oy. I'll take it for 'im mate." Monterey said, holding out his hand. The pigeon only shook his head at him. "Specific instructions for it to be delivered in person." The pigeon replied stolidly. "All right Mate, I'll get him." Monterey stated with a shrug. Dispatching Zipper to tell Chip about the telegram, Monterey, Gadget, and Dale stood by the front door along with the pigeon, waiting for Chip to arrive. A minute later Chip strode up to the door with Zipper buzzing alongside him. "I'm Chip." Chip said as he stood before the pigeon, holding out his hand to receive the telegram. "Thanks." he stated to the pigeon as he handed him the small rolled up piece of paper from his collar. Without further ado, the pigeon turned and flew off. Gathered next to him, the other Rangers watched as Chip unrolled the paper and quickly scanned it. "Who's it from?" Gadget asked. "Some book store near here." Chip answered, turning it toward them. The others looked and nodded with mild interest before Chip spoke again. "Seems I won some sort of mystery book in a drawing. The place is only a half mile or so from here. I'm going to take a walk over and see what I won." "Do you want to take one of the vehicles or planes?" Gadget asked. "No thanks." Chip replied, "I'll walk. I feel like getting a little exercise." "Okay, see you later." Gadget returned, smiling as Chip headed out the door and closed it behind him. The door clicked, and from a nearby window, the other Rangers watched as Chip headed down the tree and off through the park. "Well *that* was convenient." Monterey said, turning to the others once Chip was out of sight. "Though you'll still have to take care of him once he comes back Dale." "Right." Dale replied, readily. "I don't know Monty." Gadget stated, looking thoughtful as she stood there poised with her hand on her chin. "Something's wrong." "Wrong? What's could be wrong luv?" Monterey asked, frowning as he turned to face her. "A telegram to be delivered in person from a *book company?*" she said, looking at Monterey curiously, "It doesn't make sense." "Now Gadget luv," Monterey said assuringly, placing a hand on her shoulder, "you've seen a lot of stranger things than that, being a Rescue Ranger, eh? It might just be some new policy o' theirs for prizewinners. Come on now luv. You've got more important matters to think about." he said, guiding her forward as Dale fell in step with them, while Zipper kept watch at the window lest Chip should return, "Let's get to work." "Okay," Gadget said, still looking pensive, "But it's still strange...." 12:02..... Once he was sure he was out of sight of anyone at the treehouse, Chip stopped walking, only about twenty feet away within the shade of another tree. He was glad he left when he did. He knew he couldn't have kept that poker face going much longer. Looking back in the direction he had just come, he exhaled slightly as he took the telegram out of the crook in his arm and unrolled it once more. Yes it had been a notice from a book company as Chip had shown his friends,......*or so it seemed*. For at the very bottom of the notice, written in a very small script, was a most unusual message. It read......... *"Are you alone?"* He had covered up the message with his thumb when he showed it to the others, lest they had asked what it was about. He himself was about to find out. He turned the paper over to see if there was writing on the other side. Nothing. He held it up to the light. Nothing showed through. "Hmmm, I wonder..." Chip said aloud, rubbing his furry chin. Gently taking a corner of the paper between his thumb and forefinger, he rubbed it until a moment later, his suspicion was confirmed. There was a second piece of paper stuck so closely together with the first piece, that it looked like there was but one piece there. "Aha!" Chip cried to himself triumphantly as he peeled back the first piece of paper to reveal the second. On the second piece of paper was a short message written in a very faint handwriting so as not to show through the first piece, Chip noted admiringly. It was of the same type as that which had given him the clue on the first page. The note read: Dear Chip, I must speak with you at once lad. A matter has come up of extreme urgency which concerns you and all your teammates. However, before you tell the others, I must first consult with you which is why I have contacted you in this manner. Please, meet me at Police headquarters where all the adventures began, as soon as possible. I'll be waiting there. Again lad, I must urge you to tell nothing of this to the others until I have spoken with you first. Hurry lad! Time is of the essence! -Plato. Chip realized he felt his heart beating a little faster as he read the message. /This has to be what all those strange feelings of danger all morning were about!/ He still didn't know why he was getting them, but now, he was certain that he wasn't going crazy after all. he sighed with relief. /And Plato's the one who knows what this is all about./ He had recognized his mentor's handwriting from the short message on the front, but even so, seeing the name of his old friend to confirm it was him, sent a shiver of excitement through him. Plato hadn't written back to him and the Rangers in months! It *had* to have some conjunction with this new "urgency" that the retired police dog now spoke of. Now he realized, he and the others were in still in some sort of danger unless he got to Plato fast, to find out what this new menace was all about. Stuffing the notice into his jacket pocket, Chip sprinted off as fast as he could in the direction of Police headquarters across the street. Even though it was under adverse circumstances, he still thrilled to the thought of meeting his old friend again after all this time........ 12:06..... Back inside Rescue Ranger headquarters, as Zipper still kept a diligent watch out for Chip's return should he come back for any reason, the others worked hard at their respective tasks. Right on schedule, they had begun putting everything they needed in order, according to the plan they had worked down to the last detail. Gadget was busy at her task, when suddenly, her concentration broken, she looked up and over at Dale. "Hey Dale," she asked him, a curious, unsure look on her face as she paused for a long moment............"Do you smell something......?" * CDRR-Double O' Chipmunk. ** CDRR- Good Times, Bat Times. ^ Tammy has been a good friend of the Rescue Rangers since the events of CDRR- "Adventures in Squirrel Sitting." <> As it had in CDRR-"It's a bird, It's Insane, It's Dale!", "The S.S. Drainpipe", and "Double O' Chipmunk." ^^ CDRR-Pound of the Baskervilles. () Disney Comics-CDRR-Issue # 24.