Mexico CityJohn Creasy loads his gun and breathes hard. They've taken her away from him. Ever since the time he'd met her, Pita Ramos had been his reason for living and she had reminded him that there was something in this life worth fighting for, something worth waking up for in the morning.
And they'd taken her.
He had promised her mother that he would find and kill the people who had done this... and he had every intention of doing so. He'd called in a few favors from his old friend Rayburn and, using only his newly amassed arsenal, his ingenuity, and his memory - such as it was - of the events of Pita's kidnapping, he was going to get her back.
God as my witness, he thought, sliding his gun into his pants,
I will get her back.New York City"Qvickly, Vilbur!" the small white mouse urged, hitting her hand on the back of the albatross she flew on. "Ve must get to Mexico City right avay!"
"You got it, Miss Bianca!" the bird shouted, soaring higher.
The grey mouse with the red sweater sitting next to her cleared his throat.
"
Mrs. Bianca!" Wilbur corrected himself. "Sorry, Bernard..."
"Well," the fussy Bernard said, straightening his cap on his head, "I suppose no harm is done." Turning to his wife and partner in the Rescue Aid Society partner, Miss Bianca, Bernard went over the plan again.
"Now... we heard about this kidnapping from... a cockroach?" he asked.
"Exactly, dahlink!" the Hungarian mouse said, patting her husband on the cheek. "And he heard all zhis from a dog named Sam who vas owned by zhe poor girl who vas kidnapped."
"And... what was her name again?" Bernard asked.
"Pita," Bianca answered. "Pita Ramos. Ve have reason to belief zhat she is being held by members of zhe Mexico City undervorld."
"Oh, great..." Bernard said, clutching his hat as Wilbur sped on. "I can't--can't wait..."
John W. Creasy versus The Rescuers
