Rangers of the Lost Car-park
Chapter 4
By: Stainless Steel Rat

"It should be somewhere along this wall," Marion said quietly, looking up at the dimly lit brick surface.

So far the mission had gone without a hitch. Using both the Rangerplane and the Rangerwing, the Rangers and their two new friends had set out from the Treehouse after a hearty (and since Monty was cooking, cheesy, but in a good way) breakfast. Arthur had insisted on coming despite his injured leg, which he insisted wasn't bothering him. They had traveled the long way around, to the fields on the far side of the car park that was being constructed. By hedge hopping all the way, and used a blue-green balloon on the Rangerplane, they hoped to make themselves less visible to any scouts Sugarbottom had out.

They had found a secure landing place some way into the woods, and traveled on paw to the entrance Marion had recommended, with Zipper scouting ahead. Since she knew the tunnels, she had been able to bring them to the right place without travelling the path the message had given, and avoid any unfortunate meetings with Choc Troopers. They were however equipped against the off-chance that they did. It was a work day up above, and you could hear the construction noises, but they were reassuringly distant from the Rangers' current location.

The tunnel had been lined with brick and had an arched roof, and at intervals light wells in the roof provided shafts of low illumination... well high illumination in terms of where it came from, but low illumination in terms of the strength of the light. All in all it was suitably atmospheric for treasure hunting and acts of derring do. Not that any had been needed, to the relief of everyone but Dale. The dust on the floor showed no tracks, or signs of disturbance, so no-one else had been here for a long time.

The Rangers worked their way along the wall, examining every inch with the beams from their LED flashlights. Suddenly Chip called out.

“Guys, over here, I think I just found it!”

The others came racing over, and almost immediately, a spot about three feet up the wall was illuminated by the massed crimson beams, showing and inscribed pair of inter-linked, ornate W’s.

“Golly, a quadrupleu!” said Gadget.

There was a massed “Huh?” from the others.

“A pair of w’s, that adds up to a quadrupleu, obviously.”

“It’s also Wonti’s style.” added Arthur. “Question is, how do we get up there to examine it…”

Zipper bugled, and flew up. He buzzed around it for a moment, examining the brick, then backed off and shoulder charged it. He rebounded, and floated down into Monty’s arms, momentarily dazed. But he shook himself, and started buzzing, taking a bit of stick and pretending to drag it along the ground.

Monty was the first to figure out what he was saying. “Looks like me little pally’s seen some scratches around the brick…”

“It slides in, probably a push button for a secret door.” Chip said, nodding. “But it looks like it needs more force than Zipper can apply…”

“Aw, if Foxy were here, she could do it easy.” stated Dale, loyally.

“Well since she isn’t we’ll have to find some other way.” stated Chip.

Gadget was conferring with Monty and the recovered Zipper. “I think I have a solution… but we need a projectile…”

“I wanna help too!” stated Dale.

Gadget nodded, “Yes, you’ll do perfectly.” Monty stepped over and picked him up bodily. “Remember to turn and hit it feet first…”

“Hey! What’s going on?” the red nosed chipmunk squeaked.

“Don’t worry mate, I learned to toss cabers from a Hibernian hamster in the Highlands…” Monty took a couple of steps back, and hurled Dale, who arced through the air like a Hawaiian shirted superhero. He recovered from his surprise to tuck and spin in midair, hitting the brick feet first, then rebounding and falling back, head first. Chip stepped in to catch him and did, right on the fedora with a loud bonk. The pair went hyper-elastic, then sprung back into shape, a bit googly eyed, but otherwise none the worse for wear.

Chip, possibly because of the padding from his hat, recovered first. He shook his head to clear it, then looked up at the stubborn block of hardened clay. “Looks like there wasn’t enough momentum.”

“Five more minutes, mommy…” the still dazed Dale agreed.

Gadget was thinking again, and pulled out her crossbow plunger. “If it’s more momentum we need…” She swapped bolts to a harpoon version. “Chip, I need your grappling line.”

Chip handed it over, and asked, “What’s the plan?”

As Gadget tied the end of Chip’s line to her harpoon one, she said, “I put this line up to the roof, you and Dale climb up next to the brick, and the rest of us swing you back and release you, like a pendulum, or door knocker. That should give enough momentum to move the brick. And if it doesn’t shift the first time, we simply oscillate the rope repeatedly.”

Dale was back to reality, at least as much as he ever was… “I getcha! Looks like where there’s a will there’s a sway! Still,” he added rubbing his head, “I wish you hadn’t come up with that plan o-sci-llate.”

Marion folded her arms, and commented with an exasperated expression, “I think I liked him better bonked.”

Gadget smiled. “Oh, he does grow on you.”

Marion added her own postscript. “Rather like mould.”

Dale grinned. “Well, I am a fun-guy.”

That provoked a mass wince. Gadget fired the plunger into the ceiling, and Chip and Dale swarmed up the line.

The other Rangers and Marion hauled the rope back as far as it would go, and on Gadget’s command, whipped it forward. The two chipmunks arced across the tunnel, and slammed feet first, and side by side into the brick, which made a grating sound.

“Again!” called down Chip.

It took three swings, but on the third the block slid in completely, and there was a clanking and whirring. With a creak, an entire section of wall swung back, showering a fine dust of mortar.

Inside a second door was revealed, made of wood and ornately decorated with brass scrollwork. Chip and Dale slid back down to join the others as they regarded the door. In the centre was a brass plaque, with an inscription.

‘Well done to you who found this place,
Now one more challenge you must face,
This riddle then you must defeat,
When do ice cream and chocolate meet?’

Below was a brass framed letterbox arrangement with a set of six rollers like a slot machine, and a big brass handle. Rather than symbols, the rollers had random letters on.

“Ice cream and chocolate…” mused Chip. “some sort of dessert where they’re both used, obviously. Six letters.”

“Choc-ice?” said Gadget, then added, “No too many letters. Oh golly, there are lots of them, but what one does he mean?”

The sound of concentrated cogitation was deafening. Dale, however, reread the last line and suddenly started grinning. “Aw, c’mon! It’s obvious, guys. It’s a pun!”

Monty nodded, “Roight mate, I was just about to say the same thing…” He ignored Zipper’s “Zyeah, zright!” He continued. “Just for everyone else, what is it?”

Dale put on a look of deep thoughtfulness. “There is only one time _when_ ice cream and chocolate meet, or rather, one day…”

Chip winced, having made the connection, and from her expression, Gadget did too.

Dale exclaimed, “Sundae!”

&&&

Setting the lock and pulling the handle required a bit of ingenuity and a lot of rope use, but in moments they were inside the chamber. Air wells shed shafts of light on the room, revealing a room 20 feet long by 10 feet square. Big, vacuum sealed boxes of Willy Wonti chocolate stood along the edges, making brightly decorated pillars with Easter egg capitals.

Arthur was looking around. “My master’s secret vault! He wouldn’t even tell me where it was!”

Dale appeared to be in some sort of delighted daze. “Zowie! This place is great!”

Chip put out an arm and grabbed him by the collar, just as he started to run towards the nearest pile. "Whoa Dale, eyes on the prize!”

He pointed at a pedestal at the far end, on which rested a plain wooden box. The pedestal had an inscription.

‘You solved my puzzles, found the goal,
And so must be a kindred soul,
My legacy you now receive,
You’ll use it wisely, I believe.

Within the Ark lies my first sample,
Read the notes, they should prove ample,
A problem with the composition,
‘Sent’ me on this last mission.’

Chip turned to Marion and Arthur. “Well, this is it, the Ark of the Chocolate Covered Nut. All we have to do is get the Rangerplane down here and carry away the box and the notes. That should sort old Sugarbritches!”

“Dat will not be necessary! I vill haf mine own look at Vonti’s last secret!”

The group turned to the doorway, to see Sugarbottom standing there, hundreds of hamster choc-troopers around his feet, all with rifles. Behind him were a row of Action Guy Bad Guyz APCs and several Action Guy tanks, ‘with real repeating rocket action’.

“I would dank you for leading me to it, but as I vill soon be destroyink you, zat would be de vasted effort, hein?”

He motioned and the choc-troopers raced forward, quickly surrounding the group, stuck out in the middle of the open floor. At no time were there less than 10 rifles trained on each of them, and several electric fire starter shock sticks.

“Aww! How did he get here?” Dale complained.

Chip looked over at the two rats, but they looked even more disgusted than the Rangers.

“It vas mine superior human intellect!” stated Sugarbottom, striding forward.

Chip growled, “More likely dumb luck. One of his hamster goons must have gone off into a side tunnel for a trip to the little hamsters room, and heard the noise of the place opening up.”

Sugarbottom’s expression showed Chip was right on the money. He made a hand motion and one of the guards smacked Chip around the head with a rifle butt.

“Zilence!” He indicated a shipping pallet lying on it’s side at the far end of the room. “Tie dem up, good und tight! Dey will zee my greatest victory, as I take vat is rightfully mine own, der chocolate covered nut itself! Zen I vill settle vit all of zem, vit ze hatted von for wrecking mine shop here, und vit ze red nosed von for de ruin of mine plan in Peru.”

Arthur shouted out. “You don’t need any more nuts, you’re nuts enough already! Mr Wonti would never want someone like you to have a secret like that, _Harry_! He hid it away specifically so people like you couldn’t get their grubby little hands on it! And any fame you get from stealing it will be as fake as your accent!”

“Dat is Heinrich, you dunderkopf rat! Vonti alvays liked you best! Vel now it is mine own turn to be laughing last! After I haf gotten the secret chocolate recipe, I vill feed you und you little friends von by von into a food processor, feet first. Ve vill see how you banter ven you are the rodent puree!”

With many “Atchungs” and “Schnells” the guards hamster handled them over to the pallet, and ropes were brought up. Having tied them all securely to the vertical slats, the hamster guards had turned to face Sugarbottom. Zipper, who had dived under Chip’s hat at the first sign of trouble, now crept out the back and down behind the strut Chip was bound to, carrying the piece of craft knife Chip always kept under his hat. Chip felt his bonds part, and heard a quiet buzz of success.

“Go free the others…” He whispered. He tried to come up with a plan, but nothing sprung to mind. It seemed like the entire hamster army had come inside to watch their lord and master do his thing. They mostly had rifles, and there were a few manned armoured vehicles with guns that would work well enough against a small animal.

They were hopelessly outnumbered by any standards, and without any resources to act as an equaliser. The best he could come up with was to run while the guards were all distracted by the fat man, and try to retrieve the secret formula later, when security was not so tight. Unfortunately there were a number of hamsters standing in the doorway, and the least commotion would bring the whole shooting match down on them.

Heinrich was reading the instructions. “… read de notes? I vill haf plenty of der time for dat ven I haf der sample. No problem vit de composition vill stop me!”

Chip’s head came up. _That_ was what Wonti meant! It explained the quote marks, the word was… Dale was next to him. Chip whispered to his buddy. “Dale! Can chocolate go bad?”

“Uh… shouldn’t we be getting outta here!” His friend replied nervously.

“Dale, you’re the chocolate expert… Tell me!”

“Well not normally, but if it uses fresh ingredients and no preservatives… some flavorings too have a limited shelf life… and there are sometimes interactions between the nut and the chocolate to worry about. Some of those can be pretty violent.” Dale might be a goofball some of the time, but when it came to snack foods he was an expert.

Sugarbottom swept aside the folder of notes on top of the box, and reached down to open it.

“Uh oh! Everyone! Hold your noses and take a deep breath!” Chip hissed.

The Rangers were all free by this time, and looked to their leader in confusion. He exclaimed, “Do it!”

The nearest hamsters had heard them, but only spared them a glance, being too caught up in seeing their glorious leader doing his thing.

“Und now! The new flavour of chocolate vill be mine!” he screamed triumphantly and lifted the lid.

Whooommm! A cloud of greenish smoke blasted out of the box and straight into his face.

“Ach! Himmel…” was all he had time for before he keeled over.

The wave swept out over the hamsters, felling them like wheat. A few turned to run, but they couldn’t outrun the cloud, and suffered the same fate.

Then it hit the Rangers. Even with closed off noses, they could smell it, a mercaptan stench like a thousand unwashed jockstraps marinated in sewer water. All of them felt a slight gagging reflex, except for Zipper, who was taking deep breaths and clearly enjoying them.

Fortunately the cloud was weaker this far out, though plenty strong enough to knock out anyone who was breathing. It dissipated as quickly as it spread, disappearing through the light wells and open door. The Rangers and the Ravenfurs were the only ones left standing.

“Golly, what happened?” exclaimed Gadget.

Marion nodded, “That’s what I’d like to know. Was it some sort of booby trap left by Wonti?”

Arthur shook his head. “Mr Wonti was never like that. The inscription said we were welcome to the recipe. He wouldn’t have said one thing and done another.”

“Well Chip figured it out, the sample of chocolate musta gone bad over the years.” Dale explained. He sighed. “And I was looking forward to trying it.”

Monty turned to the chipmunk in the hat. “Yeah, ‘ow did you figure it out? Looks loike if we’d not been ‘olding our breaths, we’d be loike them drongos.”

“It was the inscription, as Dale said. Wonti left a clue, maybe without really thinking about it. I guess he was really worried when he wrote it. He’d obviously figured out this decomposition problem, and couldn’t find a solution.

“Arthur, you said he was a perfectionist. If he couldn’t solve the problem, there’s no way he would let something half done be his final released work. That’s why he set this whole thing up, the riddles, the locks, everything. He wanted someone capable of carrying on his work to find the recipe and complete it. Does that sound about right?“

Arthur’s mouth was open. “Blooming Ada! Of course, that’s it!”

“When Willy Wonti wrote the rhyme, he was thinking ‘decomposition’ and wrote ‘the composition’. When Heinie spoke the words that fake accent nailed it. Then I realised why the word ‘sent’ was in quotes, it was phonetic. Sent… scent, the decomposition would produce a bad smell. Though I didn’t expect it to be quite that bad, I thought we’d have a better chance of bailing while everyone was distracted by it.”

Dale looked around, “Uh, that’s all very well, but shouldn’t we grab the recipe, then make like a hill and slope on outta here? I don’t fancy being around when they wake up.”

It was too late, one of the nearest hamsters was stirring. He sat up, facing away from them. “Ohhhh… what are they puttin’ in the feed?” There was no trace of a German accent. “Hey, what am I doing… oh no!” He raced over to the nearest hamster and knelt by him, shaking him. “Joe! Wake up! Speak to me!”

Chip whispered to Gadget, “Maybe it won’t be a problem…”

“Scent can be a powerful memory stimulant. It looks like the dreadful smell has somehow reset their memories, wiping Sugarbottom’s conditioning.”

“But what about Sugarbottom himself?”

“From the intensity of the initial cloud and the time to recovery of the others, I would estimate he’ll be out for 2 hours, 13 minutes and… 54 seconds.”

‘Joe’ was also beginning to stir.

“Uh… Barry? What’s with the fancy dress…” He sat up and saw the Rangers, and it seemed to spring some memory in him. His eyes widened and he stuttered, “No… but that was just some kinda nightmare…”

Barry now turned, and Chip realised this was the same hamster who had beaned him in the jaw with a rifle butt.

“oh… What have we been _doing_?” The hamster was near to freaking out.

Chip stepped forward and took charge. Despite the fact that there were rifles lying all over the place, he somehow didn’t think there’d be much of a threat anymore.. paws at his sides and open, he said,

“Calm down, and sit down, and I’ll explain.”

While Gadget went off with Monty to check Sugarbottom really was out for the count, Chip filled them in on the hypnosis machine, and their prior experiences with the big faker. More hamsters were waking up and listening in, and by the time he’d finished, he had quite a crowd.

There seemed to be a general air of relief that they’d been hypnotised at the time, and therefore weren’t responsible for their actions. Many of them were remembering things they really wished they hadn’t about rounding up and pushing around the slave workforce. The uniforms went by the board almost immedately, along with the armbands. But it was clear many of them were feeling guilty, and wanted to make up for their actions.

“Y’know, maybe there is a way…” Chip mused.

&&&

The city newspaper took up half the floorspace of the tree-house main room. The banner headline screamed, ‘Willy Wonti’s greatest work!’ with the sub heading, ‘Proceeds from new flavour of chocolate to go to children and animal charities. ’

It explained how the late, great chocolate maker and philanthropist, Willy Wonti had put his last invention in the hands of trusted associates to be delivered to an attorney with instructions on how it was to be handled. He had also sent out crates of chocolate to various charities. Already Wonti original chocolate bars were selling at auction for ridiculous prices.

Chip looked up at Gadget, grinning. “Looks like your genius workaround tested out.”

The mouse inventor smiled back. “Well… golly… I may not be a chocolate expert, but as a problem in organic chemistry, finding a flavourless stabilising agent wasn’t that hard. After all it was simply a matter of recombining the tertiary hydroxyl cluster with a non-polar bonding agent…”

“Mates! We got another one!” Monty was standing on a different part of the paper. “Listen ‘ere!”

Marion was standing by him and read it out in her precise English voice.

“’Cook-oo chocolate maker permanently out to lunch – Harold Sugarbottom, a.k.a Heinrich Von Sugarbottom, was committed to the Pleasant Palms Mental Institute today. This colourful character was originally found locked in his own kitchen, raving about marching hamsters and flying chipmunks ruining everything. Evidence of large numbers of animals were found, but the animals themselves were not. However, several crates of pet hamsters arrived at various pet shops in the Mega Mall the same day.

“Investigation by health authorities suggested that he was trying to train animals to run his chocolate making machinery, or be some form of army. He claimed to be able to understand them and had even gone so far as to steal uniforms and toy vehicles from shops in the new Mega-mall. He also laid claim to the discovery of Willy Wonti’s last recipe. He was initially charged with public health offences and several counts of theft and animal cruelty, but was eventually transferred for psychological evaluation.’”

Chip chuckled, “It’s not like the guy doesn’t need it. He wanted the chocolate covered nut, now he’s in with the mixed nuts instead.” That raised a giggle from Gadget.

Arthur came limping in. “Marion, our pigeon’s here!”

“Coming, grandfather. Just have to say some goodbyes.” She walked over to Chip and gave him a hug. “Thank you for helping me when I needed it.” She matched it with one to Gadget and Monty, also Zipper.

Chip returned the hug, in a friendly manner. “It’s what we do. So you and your grandfather are going to visit England?”

“Yes, we have albatross tickets booked already. Now he doesn’t have to guard Wonti’s legacy, he can do some travelling. I’ll get some research done for my degree, and grandfather will get to visit his old home.” She looked around. “I wanted to say goodbye to Dale too, we’d never have found the vault without him. He may make bad puns, but he’s a good guy.”

Chip smirked, pointing a paw at the couch, from which you could hear a groaning noise.

“After the hamsters helped move half the crates to the woodlands to make up for the winter food stores their ex-slaves had missed collecting, and helped us post out the others, there was one crate left…”

They looked over the seat back. There lay a groaning Dale, stomach bulging to the point of being spherical. Zipper was sitting on the seat back, fanning him.

“I said he deserved to have the crate for his good work.” He sighed. “I didn’t mean he should eat it in one sitting!”

“Ohh… but the chocolate, it was so nice…” Dale moaned.

“Will he be alright?” Marion said, worried.

“Yeah, he’s done this a couple of times before, no permanent harm done.”

Arthur came over and gave everyone firm handshakes. “Fare well everyone. Thank you for rescuing me and giving an old mouse one last adventure.”

Monty exclaimed, “No worries mate, me old dad’s gotta be older and he’s still having loads of ‘em.”

Arthur turned to Chip. “You and your friends are a pretty impressive bunch.”

Chip grinned, “I know. Look at Dale, unless he goes on a diet, he’ll leave some big impressions wherever he steps.”

“I heard that!” came Dale’s voice from the couch. “I wish I’d thought of it…”

Chip shook his head. “No, I agree, I couldn’t be blessed with a better team, or better friends. All of them.” He looked around.

There was a loud Brooklyn accented squawking from outside. Arthur glanced at the door. “Our ride’s getting impatient. Goodbye, chaps.” Marion echoed it as they went out the main door.

“Another case solved.” Chip sighed. He looked over at Gadget. “You know the samples of Wonti’s chocolate, the ones that still smelled? What did you do with them?”

“Well, after I’d analysed them, Dale asked for them.”

Chip looked down at the red nosed ‘munk. “Okay, so what did you do with them?”

Dale grinned despite the stomach ache. “It’s being looked at, or rather smelled by top men... or rather a top cat. I hope he likes the card.”

Across town, Fat Cat preened as Mole placed a small, but beautifully wrapped box on his desk.

“So, this is a sample of the new candy that’s been in the newspapers?”

Mole was drooling slightly and looking wistfully at the box. “Hmm… candy!”

“A feeble attempt to curry favour from one of my associates, no doubt. But somewhat out of date. The wretched Rangers closed down my operation stealing candy from babies. Still, since it isn’t in the shops yet, this should make a tidy profit in the right market…”

He reached down to open the box.

From the outside, the giant cat that sat on top off the cat food factory appeared to sneeze green smoke.

There was coughing and spluttering, and Fat Cat’s voice could be heard saying. “What! ‘Roses are red, Violets are blue, a life of crime stinks, and so do you! Love, the Rescue Rangers…’… Blast those wretched rodents!”

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