Free Yesterday's Heroes (Consortium of Chaos Book 1) by Elizabeth Gannon Page B

“Code name: The Librarian.  Real Name:
Marian Kristen Willson.  Age: 30.  Hair: Blonde, and always worn in a tight bun. 
Eyes: Blue.  Almost single handedly runs the C of C’s Accounting, Research, and
Legal Departments, as well as acting as CEO of ‘Commodious Corporation,’ the C
of C’s legitimate business corporate cover arm, which she has turned from a
single used car dealership in Nebraska, into a varied and multinational company
worth several billion dollars.  She has an alphabet soup of letters following
her name, indicating all manner of professional degrees and licenses.  If it is
possible to be taught, learned or achieved, she has done it, learned it and is
licensed to practice it.  Apparently once claimed to have…”  He read the
statement a second time to make sure it wasn’t a mistake.  “Memorized the internet.”  He looked up .  “Highly doubtful.”  Then continued.  “Her IQ is
reportedly somewhere well above 250, she speaks several dozen languages, and
collects antique buttons.  No arrests.  No warrants.  No known altercations
with any superhero; anywhere, at any time.”  He looked up at her.  “So, you a
shut in?  Or just don’t like violence?”
    She made a note of something on her
notepad, still paying very little attention to the conversation.  “On the
contrary, I simply know the passwords to the Freedom Squad computer system, and
deleted all records of my history.  It was remarkably simple, really.”  She
pulled out a large ledger from her briefcase and started filling something in. 
“By the way, you mislabeled the vacation photos you took in the summer of 2005 and
stored on their system; it is spelled ‘ Teotihuacán .’  One ‘E,’ not two.”
    Cynic rolled his eyes.  “Now you’re
just trying to make yourself sound all badass and impress The Fucking New Guy.” 
He scoffed.  “Even if you did erase the records of the run-ins you had
with a Cape, no one’s saying they fought you.”
    She rearranged her glasses.  “You
are correct; no hero has fought me and reported back on it.”
    Wyatt squinted at that strange
phrasing, but continued down the table anyway.  He pulled out a new folder and walked
to another chair.  “Code name: The Troubadour.  Real name:  Gabriel Hartley
Hamelin.  Age:  appears to be in his mid to late thirties.  Hair: jet black. 
Eyes: Baby blue.  Head of the C of C’s Human Resources Department.  Almost
nothing is known about his early life.  He has no social security number, and
his fingerprints are not on file anywhere.  Hamelin seems to have simply appeared
out of the blue one day in Bombay, Mississippi, with the knowledge of how to
use music and musical instruments in a variety of violent and/or criminal ways. 
Oddly, no one in the Freedom Squad has ever heard him actually SAY anything
though, except when introducing or closing one of his songs.  Other than that,
every word out of his mouth is put to music.  He has somehow created deadly musical
instruments all of which have strange powers.  He won three Tony awards for a
musical stage play he wrote based on his own criminal exploits, and then promptly
took the crowd at the award ceremony hostage and robbed them.”
    Holly started giggling, and pounded
her fist on the table.  “I remember that!  That was hysterical, Gabe!  I
still have that telecast on tape somewhere!  EPIC!”
    Wyatt ignored her and returned to
the dossier.  “Once used his bagpipes to kill the masked hero known as ‘The
Barber’… Although he has since recovered.  Once used a flute he constructed
which could control woman’s minds to have himself declared ‘King of the
Amazons’ and seized control of their mystical mountaintop fortress.  It took
half a dozen superheroes, including myself, to finally bring him down.”  He
looked up from the paperwork.  “Incidentally, I’m told that afterwards, the
Amazons recovered and sent him armloads of love letters and