Free Lafferty, Mur by Playing for Keeps [html]

powers, everything. And then they forced us to fight with them. This is not good."
    "That has already been established," Peter said mildly. "What happens next is what's important."
    Keepsie turned her head as the doorbell rang. "And here they are."
     

    ***
     
    "You're insane," said Jason. "We can't do this." The dark, thin man sat cross-legged on Keepsie's floor, an untouched mug of tea cooling beside him.
    "We don't have a choice!" said Michelle. "They have Ian."
    "But you don't know that they'll give him back! He broke the law; you can't attack police! That was insane," Jason said.
    Keepsie perched on a stool and listened to the argument. She had presented her plan calmly and clearly, and then watched the room erupt around her.
    There were the people clearly behind her: Peter, Michelle and Samantha were on her side. The others, Tomas, Barry and Jason were not so sure.
    "Keepsie, I understand the need to free Ian. If it happens to him, it can happen to any of us, and that's scary," said Barry.
    Jason nodded. “That’s an understatement.” Jason was one of Keepsie's most bitter customers, hating not only the Academy but also his own powers.
    Jason had power over elevators; he could summon them, make them skip floors or cause them to stop completely. He only talked about his power during periods of extreme drunkenness, and then only if prodded.
    "Jason has a point," Tomas, a tall Norwegian, said. "This is not pulling a prank. This is breaking the law and messing with heroes. This is dangerous."
    Keepsie’s heart sank as he looked at her with level blue eyes. “You will need all the help you can get. I am with you.”
    She let out a held breath and smiled. Tomas had super-strength, but he could only sustain it in five-second bursts.
    Barry cleared his throat and everyone looked at him. “Me too. We’re being bullied. My parents always told me to stand up to bullies.”
    Jason stood up. “You guys are insane. Try not to die, OK?” He handed Keepsie his mug and left. Keepsie shut her eyes and sighed as the door clicked shut.
    "Keepsie," Peter's soft voice snapped her out of her despair. He was looking significantly at the clock. It was seven forty-five.
    "All right. Does anyone else want to leave?" Keepsie asked, sliding off the kitchen counter and looking around the living room. "I'd prefer anyone who's not on board to leave now. That way you can't be incriminated for knowing too much."
    The remaining people seated on the floor and on stools looked around at each other. Her army was small: Michelle, Barry, Tomas, Peter, Samantha, and Keepsie made six. It would have to be enough. She thought fleetingly of the tough cook, Colette, who had been unreachable.
    "Fine. Now, in about five minutes-" a knock at the door interrupted her.
    She frowned. "He's early." She went to the door, but it opened before she got there. She looked at the figure in the door and stopped cold.
    Dr. Timson stood at the door, smiling.

Chapter 8
     
    Dr. Timson, dressed in street clothes, watched Keepsie attempt to regain her composure. Keepsie stepped into the hall, closing her apartment door behind her.
    "What are you doing here?" she asked, hoping to sound cold and bored and not at all terrified.
    "I just came to talk," Timson said. "Can I come in?"
    Enough Third Wavers were in her apartment to cause suspicion, not to mention that Clever Jack was due to arrive any minute. Which was worse, consorting with a super villain or forming a vigilante hero group? It was best not to find out.
    "I don't think so," Keepsie said, frowning. "We can go for a walk, I guess."
    "I can't come inside?" Timson asked, her eyebrows raised. "Why not?
    Something you don't want me to see?"
    "No," Keepsie said quickly. "It's because I don't like you very much."
    Timson smiled thinly and followed Keepsie down the stairs. Keepsie checked her watch, seven fifty-eight. She had a feeling Clever Jack was the kind of guy to arrive on time. She scanned the street briefly, no one