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    The night was dark and rainy, like many New York summer nights. A slender mouse scrambled up a single tree in Central Park. He was dressed in a shimmering gray cloak that seemed to blend in with whatever he was perched on at the time. He stopped and moved his soaked black hair away from the eyeholes in his mask, then adjusted his tunic and belt.     He climbed up the tree until he reached the mailbox hanger of Rescue Ranger Headquarters. Pausing for a second, he pointed a finger at the sky. The clouds parted to reveal the moon. “One O’clock AM, eh? Well, this is an emergency, I suppose. I hope whoever answers the door is in a good mood...