9:53 p.m.

The dirigible did not take well to the impact. The glass splintered the wood and ripped the balloon to shreds, sending the three rodent passengers flying into the massive clockworks. Ratigan was knocked against a flat cogwheel and flipped over the back of it. He scrabbled for support and found a handhold. The wheel was turning steadily, and the rat managed to jump onto a second, horizontal cog, nearly catching his tail in a set of gears. He stood up and looked around.

The interior of Big Ben was quite eerie. The huge wheels and gears slowly turned with deafening thuds and creaks and clanks, and over everything was the deep, monotonous tick-tocking of the gigantic clock. It was quite dark, but over the thick odors of oil and rust, Ratigan could smell mouse. The girl was nearby. The brat was undoubtedly searching for Basil, looking for a way for them both to escape. Using the clock's noise to hide his approach, Ratigan steadily homed in on the little mouse.

She was perched on a flat cogwheel, looking helplessly around. He was not noticed by her until he was standing directly behind her. She began to turn, and quickly Ratigan snatched her up in one hand, covering her mouth. He then turned and began to search for Basil. The girl struggled and shouted into his hand, but a harsh tightening of his grip quieted her a bit. A fine hostage, this one.

In less than a minute, Ratigan's nose had found his target. The Mouse Detective was down near the center of the clock. The deep hatred for Basil always simmering just below the surface was rising fast. That detective had escaped his trap, foiled his plan, publicly humiliated him and forced him to flee. Now he had lost his dirigible and had nothing, not even Fidget.

As surreptitiously as he could, ignoring the girl's squirming, Ratigan crept down behind a pair of interlocked wheels and watched Basil look desperately around from his low standpoint on the slightly tilted cog he was on. So puny and lost he looked. When his back was turned, Ratigan stepped out onto the cog and raised his hand. He bared his yellowish teeth. It was a long drop to the bottom of the clock. The girl, however, wriggled violently and managed to free her mouth from Ratigan's hand.

"Basil, look out!" she cried.

The mouse detective turned his head, just in time to receive a hard backhand in the face. He was sent rolling off the edge of the cog and just managed to grab the blunt spokes at the edge. Quickly Ratigan went over to the struggling Basil and raised his fist again, but the girl suddenly dug her sharp front teeth into his hand. Yelling in pain, the rat stopped and gripped the little mouse tightly by the neck. Basil rapidly scrambled back up the cog and seized the distracted Ratigan's cape. He flung it between two interlocking wheels, yanking Ratigan's head back and jerking the girl out of his grip. She landed just in front of him, and he seized the opportunity to swiftly kick the little brat off the cog. She fell with a scream, vanishing from sight. Basil instantly leaped after her, leaving Ratigan alone.

The pressure on his throat was growing as the wheels turned, and he tugged more violently, bracing his feet against the incline of the cog. He would be crushed and mangled by the heavy iron cogs if he could not free himself soon. That silk-lined cape was being shredded mercilessly and he must have looked so ridiculous and helpless, trapped like…like…

A rat.

That innocuous slur suddenly arose in his mind like a black shadow, and lightning flashed outside, revealing the shadows of two mice scurrying upward along the rim of the clock's interior and towards the escape that was waiting for them outside.

Suddenly that rawness, that smoldering hate in Ratigan's cruel heart flared up into a savage bloodlust. All the class and sophistication so dear to him evaporated. He instantly knew there was only one thing he wanted now; to see the great detective Basil mangled and lifeless at his feet. With a sharp, adrenaline-boosted tug, he tore himself free, exposing his furry neck.

He climbed and leaped among the clockwork as fast as possible, the steady, booming tick-tock, tick-tock of Big Ben pounding his eardrums. His shoes were slowing him down a bit, so he hastily kicked them off. The gloves he shed as well; he would need his claws.

The light was steadily increasing as he approached the top of the clock. A sharp spoke suddenly snagged a button on the front of his waistcoat and, no longer caring how much it was worth, he snarled and tugged until that tore free as well. The quarry was still a good deal ahead. They were out of the clockwork by now, in a little stone passageway above the clock at the top of the tower. Basil had a good idea of how dire the situation was and was hurrying little Olivia along as fast as possible.

Outside, Dawson and Olivia's father were steadily approaching the pair in the makeshift balloon.

The mouse scent was definitely stronger now. A primitive sense came over Ratigan, and he began to salivate. He leaped, scrambled, scurried, got ever closer. The occasional flash of lightning outside offered some visual aid, and Ratigan managed to leap out of the clockwork and onto the striking hammer of the great bell. He slipped, scrabbled wildly for support, and managed to slip beneath the pulleys and up around the bell onto an iron bar hugging the ceiling.

Outside, Basil held Olivia out to her father as the balloon hovered inches away.

"Closer, Dawson, closer!"

He was in the stone tunnel now, the closeness of Basil fogging his maddened brain. He could almost taste the mouse detective, he was so close. He WOULD taste him, he WOULD.

"Daddy, I can't reach, I can't reach!"

He could see him now, holding up the girl. His mouth opened, baring his jagged yellow fangs. Basil turned his head and had one moment of abject, cringing terror as his arch nemesis, teeth gleaming beneath rage-crazed eyes, lunged towards him.

The top of Ratigan's head smashed into Basil's side, the force propelling both rodents off the ledge and down over the roof of the massive tower. Olivia was sent flying as well, but her father managed to grab her by the scruff, lifting her up into the safety of the balloon.

Not so with Basil. The mouse tumbled end over end over the rain-spattered stone roof of the tower, Ratigan having seized his midsection in a death grip. The rat was elated at having caught his enemy, even as they reached the edge of the roof and went into a straight drop. Rain quickly soaked their clothes and matted down their fur. Ratigan lost his hold on Basil and snatched again, catching his prey and hugging him close. Before he could bite, however, the hour hand of the great clock met their fall with a hard impact.

Basil bounced a ways away onto the neck of the clock hand, and Ratigan, ignoring his throbbing head, quickly got up and raced toward him. The other mice in the balloon were nearby, shouting something, but they were of no consequence. He leaped, overshot, and landed behind a rounded outcrop. Hastily he reached over it and snatched.

Basil squirmed frantically as Ratigan's elbow closed around his throat, drawing him close to the heavy teeth of his adversary. He thrashed hard against the wet, malodorous fur, and managed to squeeze out of the rat's grip. Momentarily surprised, Ratigan watched Basil scramble hastily up the long incline. With a mighty leap and a feline twist in midair, Ratigan was instantly in front of Basil, blocking him.

"There's no escape this time, Basil!" His normally silky voice had become a throaty snarl. He watched Basil turn and slide back down the incline he had just scaled, and became frustrated at his prey's slipperiness. The little dastard was still unhurt. With another long leap, Ratigan landed on the outcrop he had previously stood on and twisted to face Basil again, raising his right hand. Five curved, needle-sharp black claws extended. Viciously Ratigan swiped downward, aiming for the mouse's abdomen. The horrified Basil stepped back just in time to avoid disembowelment, but the claws ripped through his cloth jacket as though it were paper.

Undeterred, Ratigan reversed the direction of his hand and his knuckles caught Basil under the chin, sending him flying a good distance away to land farther out along the clock hand. Full of adrenaline, Ratigan effortlessly leaped up beside his prey and swiped, his stiff palm smacking into the semi-prone mouse's throat. With a choking noise, Basil was again flung a ways. Instantly on him, Ratigan struck again, this time at the face.

Finally, he had drawn blood. Basil stumbled back, his hands covering a gash across his muzzle. A hard swipe across the chest knocked him off his feet. Gnashing his teeth, Ratigan swung downward as Basil turned his back on him to try and stand up. The black claws truly met their mark this time, slicing into the flesh of Basil's back and sending pieces of fur and cloth flying. Basil cried out, falling to his knees. The next heavy blow smacked him to the very tip of the hour hand. He scrambled away from the edge and staggered up again, clutching his bleeding arm.

Ratigan was upon him in a moment, still too rage-blind to recognize that Basil was on the verge of collapse. This was too profoundly satisfying to quit now. With yet another brutal smack to the throat, the battered mouse was flung up in the air and over the edge, where he just managed to grab hold. Ratigan snarled with savage frustration. He looked down, surveying the drop. It was a good seventy or eighty meters to the ground. Basil was staring up at him with huge, terrified eyes, his tattered jacket blowing in the gusts. Lightning flashed again, giving him a good view of the gigantic rat looming over him.

Basil almost let go at the sight. Ratigan's bulging yellow eyes and enormous teeth were just above him. His head appeared small in front of the massive shoulders and shaggy muscled chest. His breath hissed noisily through his teeth as he raised a bloody hand high over his head.

Ratigan swung hard, his claws digging into Basil's side and sending him plummeting. Dawson in the nearby balloon snatched and missed as Basil fell past them. The rain and faint light rapidly obscured the little figure. Ratigan stood still for a moment, looking down uncertainly. A moment passed, and the musical tones of the Westminster Quarters began. There was no movement below. Slowly Ratigan's face split into a hideous grin.

"I WON!" He leaped into the air, laughing hysterically. Lightning flashed again, illuminating the wrecked dirigible protruding from the glass of the clock face. From it there came a voice.

"On the contrary!"

The fog of giddiness was pierced by the faint shout from the dirigible. Stunned, Ratigan looked down to make out a small dark figure dangling off the edge of the dirigible's propeller. It couldn't be!

"The game's not over yet!" The barely visible form held out an arm. Ratigan's pricked ears could just make out the ringing of a small hand bell. What? How had Basil possibly gotten hold of it? Baffled, he reached into his waistcoat pocket where he kept the little bell and found that it had gone. The massive minute hand of the great clock moved onto the twelve and the stone hammer that Ratigan had recently scaled fell.

The thunderous, melancholy tone set the hands vibrating violently. Ratigan staggered with the vibrations and flailed wildly with his arms as he lost his balance and fell from the end of the hour hand. He shrieked as he fell towards the dark form clutching the dirigible propeller. Wildly he snatched the mouse by the torn remains of his jacket and hung on, nearly yanking poor Basil's arms out of their sockets. Basil! Ratigan snapped his jaws, and very nearly severed the mouse's tail, but he was half-blinded by the rain and left only a few grazes.

The thin ropes attaching the dangling propeller to the rest of the dirigible strained under the extra weight and snapped. Ratigan lost his grip on Basil as the propeller snapped off, sending them both falling. Ratigan gave a wild screech as he and Basil plummeted from the great clock tower towards the fog-covered ground far below. The chiming of Big Ben grew fainter as the two rodents continued to fall. Basil was above Ratigan, still clutching the propeller. Suddenly he maneuvered onto the seat and began pedaling frantically, blood dripping from his wounds. Ratigan gave a roar of fury as the distance between them increased.

Falling! Fast! So fast! Ratigan clawed feverishly at the air, trying to make his way back up to the now-ascending Basil. Rage gave way to pure terror as he fell and fell until he saw rooftops rising around him. The chiming of the clock continued as the rat struck the cobblestones with deadly force.

10:00.