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Times Past, 1981
The Freedom Fighters
Burning Vengeance
In the downtown offices of New York City's district attorney, the heavy set man with white hair combed to one side, a bush white mustache, and round lensed glasses glared at a television set in the corner. On the screen, television anchor Clark Kent read the latest news from a teleprompter.
"...escaped from New York police twice today, the result of alleged bungling by the district attorney there. Here with an on-the-scene report is Martha Roberts, GBS special news correspon... snik!"
David Pearson switched off the television in disgust; the picture faded to a single white dot before the screen went totally black. "That's all I need," Pearson grumbled, nearly biting through the cigar that was ever present in his mouth, "network coverage of the biggest debacle of my career! I'm going to charge those six clowns with everything from littering to the murder of Wonder Woman!"
The phone rang on the desk; one of the aids answered it while Pearson paced.
"Even though I never liked that amazon dame, I'm going to milk her death for everything it's...", Pearson ranted. The office door flew open suddenly, and there stood the aforementioned heroine. "...worth?"
"Sorry to burst your balloon, Pearson," Wonder Woman said, standing confidently with one hand on her hip, "but I'm not as dead as you might wish to believe! The Freedom Fighters saved my life!"
The shock caused Pearson to drop his cigar. "Jenkins, cancel the murder charge," he said as he fumbled for the burning item before it set the whole place ablaze, "but everything else sticks!"
In a darkened alleyway, somewhere in the northern part of Manhattan, six costumed figures waited for nightfall that was only minutes away. "What do we do now, Sam?" a dark haired woman in a yellow costume with a green cape asked.
"Can't rightly say, Sandy," said a white haired and bearded man in patriotic colors. "But one thing's for dog-gone certain, we've got to find the Silver Ghost before the authorities find us!"
"Easier said than done," said a man with his voice muffled by a mask attached to a white/silvery suit that resembled those worn by men around so much radiation. "Every cop in the city's after us!"
"Maybe we should just get out of the city then," a black haired man barely foot high said.
"Good idea, Darrel," a handsome dark haired man in blue trunks and a cape said. From the shadows, he heard a rumbling near the street. A large steel vehicle with a picture of a racing dog on the side rolled past followed by a cloud of exhaust. "And I think I know how we'll do it undetected..."
***
Less than an hour later, the last of the three police cars was about to pull away from the New York Historical Society building. In the front seat, two officers talked. "Geez, how did Harris and Williams luck out?" one of the officers grumbled.
"Yeah really," the other officer said. "We get called in to pick up some group of villains that the Teen Titans just rounded up, and they get dibs on the babes. Twins, no less! How often do we get to book twins?"
"Ha," the driver said. "Today, three times I guess. It could be worse though. That big guy barely made it into the back of Sommers' car. Thought they'd need to call the paddy wagon for him."
"True, we're just stuck with those two back there." The officer barely glanced in the rearview mirror to the two costumed men in the back of their patrol car. Both men wore blue costumes with red capes. Their goofy hats shaped in an odd way matched the same orange flame insignias on their chests. The police figured the Flamesplasher Twins were hardly a threat any more.
"I can't believe it!" one of the villains said. "Two-Face left us high and dry while those punk kids made fools of us! We'll pay those punks back, and that split faced freak too!"
"Shut up, Frank!" the other villain said softly as he fidgeted with his handcuffs near his belt.
Frank noticed what his twin was doing but wasn't certain why. "Stan!" he said in a low but firm whisper. His villainous twin brother worked the metal of the cuffs against his belt, trying to pry open the center portion. "What are you doing?"
"They took our wrist launchers which Speedy's arrows gummed up but not the power supply," he said. "If I can just...."
One of the officers up front turned around and glanced through the grating. "Hey, what are you doing back th...?"
An explosive blast of flames ripped through the front section and the roof of the police car! The driver lost control of the wheel; the car swerved off the road and jumped the sidewalk! It crashed through a fire hydrant before running head long into a brick wall!
Groans came from the cab as the two officers, injured, were pinned inside. The two costumed villains rose from the back of the flaming wreckage of the squad car. "Stan! That was great! Now, about my cuffs...."
"Save it and run, idiot!" Stan replied as he darted towards the nearest side street. "We survived the blast thanks to the flame-retardant materials in our costumes! First we run and hide, and then we figure out what to do next!" And the two villains vanished into the night.
***
In the wee hours of the night, a figure flew low northward along the waterway that separated Ulster and Duchess counties. Hanging down from the Black Condor's arms and holding on very tightly was the Human Bomb.
"Uh, Tom," the Bomb said, glancing through the eye slit of his mask at the dark river below, "tell me again how you talked me into this."
"Roy, you know darn...ugh...well your condition makes it hard for you to...ugh...travel incognito," the flying hero grunted. "Since only two of us...ugh...can fly and I'm...ugh...stronger than the Ray, I got the job."
The hero watched as his flying teammate continued to strain. "Sorry about that," the Bomb replied with a touch of melancholy in his voice. His special condition that gave him an explosive touch combined with their transition over to this Earth left him with the limitation of wearing his protective suit all of the time. That did tend to make him stand out like a sore thumb.
Black Condor noticed his friend had gotten quiet. He worried about the man, knowing that Roy Lincoln was more isolated than the rest of the group was on this world to which they were not even born. While Roy and Doll Man had been talking about working something up to dampen that effect so he could walk around in normal clothes, so far they had little time to work beyond the theory. "Hey, Roy, you putting on weight?" Condor asked in a jovial manner, trying to lighten the mood.
"No...I don't think so. Why?"
"Just kidding...ugh...old buddy," Condor said with a smile. "We'll touch down in a bit so you...ugh...can stretch and I can rest some too. Then we'll get the rest of the way before sun up."
***
A number of hours later, as a Greyhound bus worked its way north on the New York Interstate, three pairs of folks sat spread out on the crowded vehicle. All six kept to themselves and spoke in hushed tones to their traveling companions, mostly so to avoid any notice of those around them.
"I hope Tom and Roy are doing okay," said a light haired man sitting near the front section of the bus. Happy Terrill noticed his seat mate was staring out the window as the bus moved quickly past trees and telephone polls. He tapped the dark haired man slightly on the shoulder. "Earth to Darrel, you with me, buddy?"
Darrel Dane blinked out of a dazed state. "Sorry, Hap," he said. "I was just thinking."
"About?"
"I can't get over how that reporter looked so much like my Martha," Darrel Dane said softly. Indeed, the red haired reporter from New York City was the exact twin of his late girlfriend, the one who was killed on Earth-X during the extended war with the Nazis. The heroes knew that sometimes dopplegangers of people existed on the various multiple Earths, some lived very similar lives while others had radically different ones. "If only I'd got a chance to talk to her more..."
Happy Terrill put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Hey, don't worry," he said in a reassuring manner. "Once things blow over, we'll get back there and you can talk to her all you like."
"You think?"
Happy smiled. "I promise. We can't stay on the run forever."
Near the midsection and on the other side of the aisle, a elderly looking man and a woman with her dark hair done up in a scarf sat. The man fidgeted in his seat, adjusting his clothes. "Tight fit, Sam?" Sandra Knight asked.
"Its not that, Sandy," the man known as Uncle Sam replied. "It just don't feel right. It don't sit well with me like my other suit does."
"Your other suit would be a bit obvious," she said, thinking of his red and white striped pants and similarly colored hat. As obvious as her skimpy yellow costume and green cape was. She pulled her long coat closed.
"Its not the style so's much as its the circumstances," Sam explained. "I didn't feel right just borrowin' these things, you know."
Sandy nodded. Her companion was the embodiment of the American spirit, all that was good and right and just. She never knew a man more honorable and upright. He was a rarity in this day and age.
The night before the group had been forced to rummage through a Goodwill drop off site to find clothing for them to travel in. Even though the clothes had been left on the stoop for the needy, and the Freedom Fighters were indeed in the category of needy at this moment, Sam still felt uneasy just taking them.
"We'll make sure they get donated once we get where we're going," Sandy said. She glanced out the window. "How far is it to Albany anyway?"
On the far side and near the back of the bus, two more men sat. One wore dark glasses and his hair unnaturally greased down and parted to the side. The other wore a baseball cap pulled down low. They each tried their best to distinguish their appearances so that no one would recognize easily that they were twins.
Frank, in the cap, turned to his brother. "Stan, why we going back to Albany? I thought you couldn't wait to get out of that town after high school."
"I couldn't," the other brother replied softly. "But its the perfect place to hide out. No one but that Two-Face rat even knows who we were under our costumes, so we can walk around our hometown without drawing any suspicious looks."
Frank nodded. There was no arguing with that logic.
"Besides," Stan continued, "there's an old score I'd like to settle back there. Once I've had a couple days, I can get our equipment up and running. Then its payback time!"
The bus zoomed on down the road. Another forty miles until Albany.
***
When the bus finally pulled into the station to allow the passengers time to disembark and retrieve their bags from the curb, Black Condor, now dressed in jeans and a sweater, was able to get the attention of his four friends easily enough. Eventually, in roundabout ways, they managed to follow him out to the far corner of the parking lot where he could fill them in on things.
"Where's Roy?" Sandy asked. "I hope everything is all right."
Happy Terrill noticed the hint of concern in her voice. He put his arm about her shoulders, in part to comfort her and in part to remind her of his affections towards her. "I'm sure he's right as rain and well hid, right Tom?"
"Yes, Roy is fine, and he's waiting for us," Tom Wright said. "So, grab your bags and let's move out, folks." Tom reached for Sandy's bag, but Happy snatched it first to carry it. Tom shrugged his shoulder slightly.
"Where to?" Darrel asked.
"I managed to rent us a house not to far from here," Tom said as he lead the way. "It's not the Taj Mahal, but it'll do for now."
As they five people walked, Uncle Sam noticed the condition of the neighborhood around them changing. The streets were a little less cleaner and had a few more potholes. The buildings were looking a bit older, a bit more run down. Some had damage that never saw repair. The few shops they passed by had large metal gates that could be put up at night to block the doors and windows to deter thieves.
Finally, the quintet approached a row of tenement homes. Tom pointed to one run down brick faced building. "There we go," he said, "number seventeen forty three."
"You weren't kidding about the condition," Happy said.
Sandy sniffed the dingy air. "It's not so bad," she said, but her voice was hardly convincing. She then glanced across the way and saw a fenced in yard around an old brick building. "Oh look! At least there is a school here!"
"Lucky kids," Darrel said with a slightly sarcastic tone.
"Hey, given our current financial position and limited funds, we can't be choosy," Tom said, ushering them inside.
Uncle Sam was the last to enter the dwelling. He stopped on the stoop and took one more glance at the neighborhood. Some might have viewed it as a slum, but to those that lived here it was home. It was all the people could afford, and they no doubt worked very hard to afford what they could.
Uncle Sam did not know how long the group of fugitives would be living here, but he was determined to make the best of it for the others and those who lived there. After all, they were heroes. They were supposed to make a difference.
***
For the rest of the week and into the weekend, the newcomers to Albany kept around the house as much as possible. The place was furnished, albeit the condition of the items was substandard at best. They made do with what they had or found a cheap way to get what they needed. A black and white portable television with tinfoil hanging from the rabbit ears was their primary source of information; they took turns monitoring it in hopes of hearing some leads about the whereabouts of the Silver Ghost. Finding him would help clear their name of the charges Pearson had brought up against them.
They would make occasional forays into the neighborhood in singles or pairs, like when they needed to get things for meals or such. They even rolled up their sleeves some to spruce up the yard and the inside of the place they were staying. Since the Human Bomb couldn't go out of the house, Doll Man spent a good amount of time working with him on theories and prototypes for a dampener to keep the Bomb's explosive powers in check. However, even if they finished the complicated device, they would have to wait to test it. No point in blowing their cover by blowing the roof off their rented home.
Eventually, Monday morning rolled around.
Sandy had risen from bed first and gotten a shower as the school buses were making their way down the street to drop off the children. It was a bright, sunny morning, so Sandy decided to venture down to the corner market after getting dressed.
On her way back down the street, about two hours after she had awoke, Sandy Knight noticed a peculiar twinge in the Fall air. She sniffed once and again as she walked. She then realized what it was: smoke!
Glancing around, she realized where the blaze was coming from: the school! It was on fire!
She ran up the front steps of their rented home, burst open the front door and yelled to her teammates. "Sam, Happy, Tom, Roy, Darrel! Fire at the school!"
Without hesitation and purely by reflex, the heroes donned their costumes and ran over to see if they could help!
***
The alarms on the wall sounded loudly.
Mr. Sweeney, the history teacher sighed and closed his book. "Fire drill, class," the tall bearded man droned. They always had a few of these at the beginning of the school year. "Let's keep this orderly!" The student rose from their desks, leaving their things behind, and started to head to the door. "Ryan, take the lead!" The blonde haired student nodded and opened the classroom door.
The sixth grade history class was met with a hallway full of panic! Flames were dancing about the arch in the hallway that lead to the main hall and front lobby! Their usual evacuation path was cut off by a very real and very deadly threat!
Mr. Sweeney snapped out of his midmorning daze. "Kids, to the left!" he called out, grabbing some of those nearest to him and ushering them in that direction. "Stay clear of the flames!" They moved down the hall towards the cafeteria and the back exit.
***
The chemicals in the second floor science lab fed the blazing fire!
The students and Mr. Morris huddled in the back of the room, as far away from the flames as possible. In all his forty years of life, the black haired and mustached educator had never seen fire just appear so quickly! It was unnatural.
A number of the beakers in the cabinet near the front of the room exploded with a pop of glass as the flames devoured the wooden structure. A number of the girls screamed. A few of the boys did too!
Tina, a smaller girl with straight brown hair, cowered in fear against her teacher's shoulder. "Wi..will we be okay?" she asked as tears started for form in her brown eyes.
Mr. Morris stroked her hair gently, trying to soothe the girl's fears. If he had been alone in the room, he would have placed a white lab coat over his head and risked rushing through the flames. He knew that there was a fire extinguisher just down the hallway in the mounted cabinet. But with the second period class having as many students as it did, he could not risk leaving them unattended while he played the hero. "Help will come, Tina, I ..."
The outside wall, between them and the flames, buckled and exploded outward!
Brick and stone flew out with the rush of air. The flames swelled with the increased amount of oxygen. Through the dust and the smoke, Mr. Morris and the students saw the outline of a figure. As it moved closer into the blazing room, they could make out the image more clearly.
"It's a space man!" Robby exclaimed.
"No..." Mr. Morris said. He recognized the type of suit. It was similar to what scientists wore when dealing with intense radiation.
"Come on, kids!" the Human Bomb called to the captives. "We've got to get you out of here!" Removing the glove from his right hand again, he caused another explosive blast that made the opening in the wall wider. His goal was to allow the group to get out of the room without getting too close to the fire.
The children started to move just as Mr. Morris called out, "but we're on the second floor! Is there a net or a ladder?"
"No," the Human Bomb answered, "but my friend can help there!"
The students saw the dark haired, well-built Black Condor waiting on the ledge. His blue cape furled out in the gentle breeze. "Oooh, an angel!" one of the young girls cooed.
"Did someone call for an airlift?" the Condor said with a smile, hoping to calm the fear and anxiety that the situation was bringing to the group. The kids all scampered forward with a 'me me me' sound. It would take a number of trips for the Black Condor to get all the class to safety, but he knew his partner would buy him the time needed to do so. The Human Bomb helped them onto the ledge one by one, all the while keeping an eye on the fire.
***
Uncle Sam, dressed in his red, white and blue, stood near the main entrance of the building as students and teachers rushed out to safety. "Miss DeAngelo, is that....?" one of the boys asked as they hurried past.
"It certainly looks like it..." the blonde woman replied.
"You all get a safe distance," the white haired hero said. "Can't be havin' any of you young'ns gettin' hurt now. You're our bright future!"
Suddenly one of the windows above shattered. Uncle Sam moved swiftly to pull a small black girl to safety before the shards could hit the concrete sidewalk. "Relax, child," he said in a soothing voice as he put her down safely. "You'll be fine now."
Glancing up though, Sam could see the fire raging out the opening, and a dark cloud of smoke belched into the air. Part of the masonry near the top of the building started to crumble. Sam's eyes focused, his brow furrowed.
The old structure had seen better days, and the ravages of time had not been kind to it. Added to that this unnatural inferno, and the old school was about to give up the ghost.
Sam would not have that! Thrusting his arms up to the nearest wall, he planted his feet firmly to the ground and pushed against the sagging structure.
He was the spirit of America, the embodiment of a strong nation. Its people time and again fought against the hardships and incredible odds, and yet they survived to raise their flag of freedom every time. The flag was a symbol of her strength, and today Uncle Sam would draw upon that strength to insure every man, woman and child got out of this alive.
***
Word quickly spread about the arrival of the costumed heroes, the ones who were aiding in the evacuation while the firefighters were on their way. But not everyone was so pleased to hear this news!
Inside the gymnasium, a brown haired man in gray sweat pants and a white shirt stood defiantly. "What is the meaning of this?" Billy Newbury demanded of the costumed men before him.
"Shut up, 'coach'!" one of the Flamesplasher twins said. Out from the nozzle above his wrist shot a high pressured blast of water. It knocked the physical education teacher back against the divider wall, drenching him from head to toe. "Ooopsy, got water on your precious floor." The villain's tone was mocking.
Newbury shook his head back and forth a few times, trying to get some of the water out of his hair. "Who the hell are you two lunatics?"
"We're not lunatics!" the water-armed Flamesplasher said. He doused the downed teacher once more in the face; Newbury's head slammed back against the wall, and his body slumped to the floor.
"Enough, brother!" the other twin ordered. "It seems old Billy's memory is fading, no doubt due to too many beers at those post-football game parties. The dumb jocks did tend to drink too much!"
Newbury cleared the water from his eyes and gave the men a more detailed examination. "Do I know you...?"
"Just like a tormentor!" spat the fire-armed Flamesplasher. "Victimizes people for years and then moves on!"
"Victimize?" Newbury thought for a moment. Twins? Then it came to him. "You're those two Newton brothers?"
"Ding ding ding!" Flamesplasher launched a flaming jet blast at the man and hit just above his head. Newbury flinched and scrambled aside from the scorched mark on the wall. The villain smiled. He wanted to play with their victim first to prolong his agony.
"Wh..what do you want from me?"
"You tormented us for years!" Frank Newton said.
"Everyday, from middle school through senior year graduation!" Stan Newton added. "Bullying us, degrading us!"
"Stealing our lunches and our homework!"
"Well, now the past comes back to haunt you! Now it's payback time!" The villains took aim.
Newbury saw the look in their eyes. They were no longer the terrorized little school boys; the tables had turned. "Why here? Why now?"
"You're a big coach now," Stan, the fire-blaster, said. "You're an enabler to a new generation of jerk-jocks! Left unchecked, you'd lead by example for others to pick on the weaker, defenseless kids!"
"And as for the location of our revenge," Frank, the water-splasher, added, "what's more appropriate than killing you here where you began to ruin our lives! In a middle school!" Aiming his water cannon weapon, he opened fire at their intended target. Newbury was not able to close his mouth fast enough; the high pressured stream of water shot down his throat and started to drown him right then and there in the gym.
"Hey, creep, lay off!" a voice shouted from above. Both villains turned just as the diminutive Doll Man soared down from a ceiling vent. His body slammed into the first twin's wrist, knocking the water cannon's blast to the ground.
The pressure of the blast caught the Flamesplasher twin off guard and sent him flying back across the floor. "What the hell is that?" he cursed. "Some kind of doll?"
The hero in blue and red sprang in the air and landed a solid punch to the villain's jaw. "That's Doll Man to you, punk!" The hero continued to pummel the fallen foe.
"Stan, help!" Frank called out between blows. But it was too late!
The gym door slammed as the other Flamesplasher twin took off. But not before he set the whole room ablaze to cover his trail. Newbury was gone too, taken as a hostage.
"So much for your partner!" Doll Man said, landing a final punch. As Frank Newton faded to an unconscious state, he wondered why his brother had abandoned him.
***
The fiery Flamesplasher twin hurried down the hall as fast as he could, dragging the educator with a headlock. Periodically he let fly a blast from his weapon to cover his back with a fiery wall of protection.
"You won't get away with this, Stan!"
"Shut up, Newbury!"
"I've seen that hero on TV. He's got friends! I bet they're all just crawling around here!
"I said, shut up!"
The teacher saw he was getting to his kidnapper and decided to push it further. "And, you! What kind of brother are you? You abandoned Frank back there! Just like that time on the playground! You went crying home to your mother!"
Flamesplasher's face was as red as the fire symbol on his costume. "Aaaaaah!" he growled, slamming the coach on the ground as they burst out the side doors of the school. "I should have killed you right away!" He aimed his weapon. "Die, scum....!"
"Not so fast!" a female voice yelled out as a beam of black light nailed the villain squarely in the face. It created an opaque field about his eyes, causing his vision to be severely impaired; it was like being down in a basement with no windows when the power went out.
"Damn it!" Flamesplasher cursed. He fired his weapon anyway in the direction where Billy Newbury last was. He only heard the roar of the flames but no screams of agony. The darkness field faded, and he was able to see a woman in yellow and green ushering his victim off to safety. "Curse you, woman!" He fired a blast of his flames at her.
Phantom Lady merely desolidified; the blast passed harmlessly through her. A number of the group had discovered additional abilities in their repertoire since they crossed over to this Earth. Right now, the heroine was glad she could live up to her costumed name.
"Hey, buddy!" a firm voice called from the air. "If you want a target, here I am!"
Flamesplasher whirled around to see the yellow costumed Ray hovering above him in a taunting manner. "You want it," the villain growled, "you got it!" He opened up his weapon to a higher setting and blasted the flying hero with fire. "Hope you can stand the heat, loud mouth!"
The Ray smiled as the flames danced around his form. "Heat? Oh, I think I can. Can you?" He thrust out his arms and blasted back. Prior to the crossover from Earth-X, the hero only had the ability to fly and project light energy. Since the journey, he found he could also generate a bit of heat himself with his blasts.
"Hey! That's my gimmick!" Flamesplasher exclaimed.
Fire met fire in a blazing display. For a moment, the two forces seemed evenly matched. Phantom Lady watched the encounter for a moment without getting involved. "Ray, need a hand?" she then asked.
"I can take him!" the flying hero replied.
The sound of the approaching fire engines and police vehicles filled the air. Sirens wailed and red lights flashed. "Uh, better hurry then," the heroine said. "We've got company!"
"Got it covered!" the Ray said. He doubled his efforts and fired a concentrated blast.
The flames bound back upon the Flamesplasher. "Aaaaah!" he cried out as the fire danced around him. His costume would protect him, but for how long?
"Some threat you are!" the Ray said as he swooped in and smashed the villain in the jaw. Flamesplasher crumbled to the ground. "Just a bully who likes to play with fire is all!"
"And here's his partner in crime," Doll Man announced, dragging the unconscious twin by the cape out of the building.
"We've done our duty," Phantom Lady said, "and now its time to go!" The Ray grabbed her by the hand, and Doll Man leapt onto the flying hero's back. The three flew off into the sky, only to take a round about way to meet up with the others later on.
The heroes managed to get back to their rented house down the street and kept inside until the commotion died down. From behind the curtained windows, they were able to catch glimpses of the goings on as the police hauled off the two costumed criminals and the firemen put out the blaze. "We best keep a low profile until things get back to normal," Uncle Sam advised.
The others nodded in agreement, but they all felt good knowing that they did a good thing.
Epilogue
A few days later, four of the group were in the fenced in backyard area when a woman entered the gate. Happy, Sam and Sandy all looked up suddenly. Tom recognized the woman. "Oh, Mrs. Jones," he said as he rushed over to meet the lady. "Is something wrong?"
"Not at all," the plump brown haired woman replied. "I just came over here to thank you."
"For what?" Sandy asked. Mrs. Jones eyed the other three.
Tom noticed her gaze. "Oh, these are my roommates," he said quickly. "I think I mentioned that there would be others when I rented the house from you last week."
"You did," Mrs. Jones said with a smile.
"I hope that's not a problem," Tom said.
"Not at all," Mrs. Jones answered. "As I said, I came by to thank you all."
"For what, ma'am?" asked Uncle Sam.
"My daughter goes to the school across the way," the landlady said. "I wanted to thank you all for helping out the other day. If you hadn't have been there, who knows what might have happened."
"I think you're mistaken," Happy said quickly.
"No, I'm not," Mrs. Jones said. "I put two and two together. Some folks rent a house from out of town, some heroes from out of town suddenly show up in Albany, plus one of them is as handsome as the man who rented the place from me." She gave Tom a little wink. He blushed.
"Ma'am, if you want, we'll pack our bags and be off," Uncle Sam offered. "We didn't mean to cause you any trouble..."
"Nonsense!" the woman said. "I'd never ask you to leave. As far as I'm concerned, your secret is safe with me."
"And me!" another female voice said. The group turned to see a red haired woman standing near the gate.
"Martha Roberts!" Sandy exclaimed, recognizing the WGNY-TV reporter.
"Look, lady, if you're looking for a story..." Happy started to protest.
"Not at all," she said. "When I got the word on the news wire about the Freedom Fighters helping out at that school, I knew I had to come up to Albany and look around. In fact, I was counting on finding you."
"You wouldn't be thinkin' of turnin' us in, would ya?" Uncle Sam asked. "'Cause we're innocent of the charges!"
"I know," Martha said. "I believe that, and I want to offer my help to you." She reached into her purse and handed them a business card. "My home number in the city is on there. If you need my help or need a place to hide out, my door is open to you."
Uncle Sam took the card with a polite nod and a smile. It felt good to have some allies on their quest for their freedom.