Yesterday's Heroes (Consortium of Chaos Book 1) (4 page)

She began to absently draw out the museum’s
security on her notepad looking for a new way to get to the diamond.  Maybe if
she could bypass the main guard station and…

Her father’s voice boomed out,
startling her from her work.  “Continuing conspiracies are complete.  Au
courant complot, my compatriots?”

 The meeting continued and various
departments stood up and gave their proposals for new business.  Some of their
ideas were… unlikely to succeed.  Today’s plans were
especially
odd,
even for them.  How precisely they hoped to get enough red paint to…

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted
by an alarm sounding.

The Commodore sprang to his feet.  “A
calliopean cry for caution! 
What cause!?!
”

Holly punched something into one of
the monitors and an image of the entrance to the building appeared.  A lone man
dressed in a business suit and overcoat was casually strolling through the door
to their headquarters.  How in the
HELL
had he gotten passed the
security panel?  And how had he found them in the first place?  This place was
hidden beneath the abandoned ‘Enchanted Forest’ mini-golf course in the Pine
Barrens of New Jersey.  That was the whole POINT of having a
SECRET
base; it was SECRET!  Why
ELSE
would someone want to live in Jersey?

The man in the monitor stopped walking
and looked up at the camera to give a little wave in greeting.  She squinted at
the grainy image.  He looked……familiar somehow.  Then it hit her.

Son-of-a-bitch.

It was Fabricator!  What the HELL
was he doing here!?!  Oh, this wasn’t good.  If he was here, the whole Freedom
Squad gang would be on their doorstep in no time.  Goddammit!

Holly swore too, and slammed her
hand down on the alarm button shutting it off and opening up the com system to
the other areas of the hideout.  “Uh-oh!  It’s Scrooge!  Better grab your
stockings off the fireplace, ladies and gentlemen.  The white hats are coming
down the chimney!”

The room erupted in movement as
they all prepared for the coming attack.  On the screen, Fabricator casually
sat down on a chair in their foyer, as if waiting for them.  The bastard even
glanced at his watch like he was timing them.

Harlot raced towards the entrance
with her father, calling out orders.  “Holly, go find Keystone and tell him
we’re going to need some of his boys down here QUICK.  And tell Overdriver to
ready the escape vehicles, this isn’t going to be pretty.”

Holly took off down a side hall
towards the barracks.

Harlot looked up at her father.  “We
should think about just getting out of here, Daddy.  If the whole Squad is
here, we…”

He cut her off.  “Cut out?  Because
these carpers contend a coup?  Crazy!  I
won’t
be caught!  I’m completely
capable of contending with these circumstances!”  He stopped and grabbed her
arm.  “Contrarily, you my cherished one, must compel yourself to
circumvent
this campaign.”

She pulled her arm free.  “Like
hell!  If we’re going out in a blaze of glory here, I’m not leaving you!”  She
started running towards the entrance again.  “Besides, Lord knows you guys
couldn’t get anything done around here without me.  The last time I left you
all alone for any length of time, you tried to turn the base into a volcano by
drilling through the Earth’s crust, for some reason.”

They arrived at the entrance to find
their intruder nonchalantly flipping through one of their recruitment
brochures.  He looked up casually as they entered. 

Her father stepped forward, pushing
her behind him.  “Caitiff!  Convey your conation or commence with combat!”

Fabricator blinked at him for a
moment.  “…My
what?
  What the hell does ‘conation’ mean?”  He shook his
head as if to clear it.  “My intentions, I’m guessing?  Right?  You can relax. 
I assure you, I have no plan of harming anyone.”  He looked around the room. 
“So, this is the top secret hideout, huh?  Why did you go with the dull grey
paint?  Did you get it off the ‘Oops!’ rack or was this is
deliberate
choice?  It’s not inspiring much dread, I can tell you that.  I would have gone
with something more sinister looking for the entry room of
my
hidden
evil base.  Reds and black.  Maybe some chrome and fire.”

Her father relaxed slightly. 
Harlot stepped around him and looked at their visitor.

Fabricator, whose real name was
Wyatt, was really here; he was actually
sitting in their base
.  The
whole thing was… crazy.  He wasn’t supposed to be here.  He was a hero! 

Hell, he was THE hero in her eyes,
the Squad’s go-to guy for everything from hospital visits to singlehandedly
holding back Armageddon.  He wasn’t even in costume right now, though.  Just a
suit.  Not that that surprised her.  She hadn’t heard hide nor hair of him
since that business downtown years before.  He just sort of …drifted away. 
Which also wasn’t surprising, considering what happened. 

Last she heard, he wasn’t even with
the Freedom Squad anymore.  It just wasn’t the same without him.  Their game
had been slipping, and she found herself not even bothering to buy all of their
stuff anymore.  She still lurked the Squad’s online discussion boards, but that
was mainly so she didn’t fall TOO far behind on the hero gossip, just in case
Wyatt came back or something really interesting happened.

As for the man himself, he appeared
worse for wear.  Like the years had caught up with his youthful face.  His dark
eyes looked intense and sad.  His burgundy hair was cut in a severe executive
style, not at all like the free flowing, rebellious mane he used to sport.  Not
that she ever noticed something like that.  She only collected hero stuff
because… umm… She just made it a point of know her mortal enemies, that’s all.

Yes.

He was taller in real life than he
looked on TV… and even
more
good-looking…

She shook her head to clear it.

In any case, he had also added a
goatee to his appearance.  Personally, she liked it.  It made him look vaguely
sinister
,
the very idea of which was simply hysterical.  He was the total golden boy of
the capes and couldn’t look evil if he tried.  Well, he HAD been their fair
haired child, anyway…

Her father’s eyes narrowed as he
watched his guest, his hand never leaving his cutlass.  “You’ll have to condone
my caution in not being more cordial at your crashing our carousal.  That’s
certainly not my custom.  Call me a cynic, but to my chagrin, I’m still cagey
about your cause to be in my commorancy.”

Wyatt the Fabricator squinted
again.  “Your
what
?  Is that even
English?
  I feel like I need a
translator here or something.  Why are you
talking
like that?”

She stepped around her father. 
Wyatt was apparently someone with a limited vocabulary.  She was more used to
dealing with people who had no language skills than her father was.  He seemed
to run into that problem quite often though, which was weird.  He didn’t have a
speech impediment or anything, so she had no idea
why
he confused
people.  They should just read the dictionary more or something.  It was
ridiculous.  She really expected someone of Wyatt’s intelligence and
sophisticated lifestyle to be more capable of following a conversation.

Wyatt looked at her and smiled in
relief.  “Oh, thank god.  Guard Malkin… I’m sorry, I mean
HARLOT
is
here.  I never thought someone wearing
that
would be the SENSIBLE one in
the room.”

Her eyes narrowed.  In real life,
he was… kind of a dick.  She had always kind of avoided him, except for that
time she broke Poacher out of custody.  When she was younger, she had a BIT of
a crush on him.  A tiny, tiny one.  …And not for very long either.  A few weeks
at most, and then she realized that he opposed everything she stood for.  It
was temporary insanity which she had quickly gotten over.  She only kept his
memorabilia around as a reminder of what her enemy looked like, and she hadn’t
updated her Fabricator fan blog in at LEAST six months. 
Maybe longer.

“Yes, well I would have been here
sooner, but I hardly recognized you without your cape and little mask thing. 
Why you’re positively naked here.”  Poor choice of words.  Now she found
herself distracted by… thoughts.  “What do you want?”

He picked up his briefcase.  “It’s
simple really.  Your literature is very convincing.  I’ve come to join your
organization.”

She laughed.  “The Fabricator wants
to join
US? 
Yeah, that’ll happen.  What do you REALLY want?”

The Commodore lowered his cutlass. 
“This cretin was the costumed crusader called Fabricator?”

She nodded.

Her father beamed and spread his
arms out in greeting, as if seeking a hug from the other man. “Contain the calumnies! 
This citizen is a cynosure to our community!  A celebrated
conflagration
all of our compatriots should copy!”  He reached forward and grabbed Wyatt’s
hand and shook it happily.  “Cheers to you, chum!”

Her mouth fell open in shock.  “I’m
sorry, what’s going on here?”

Wyatt stiffened as her father
hugged him, and tried to pry himself free.  “I can’t help it if I’m a people
person.”  He shrugged.  “Everyone loves me.”

Her father scoffed.  “Certainly! 
Chiefly for your conduct concerning that chaos in the city.  Contemptible
circumstances, but you came out creditably!”  He turned to face her.  “Child,
if he is considering a career in our circle, compose his certification
certificate!  He should commit!  Chop-chop!”

She frowned.  “Yeah, I’ll get right
on that.  Hey, how about you go talk to Gabe about having HR get him the
paperwork, okay?”

Her father practically danced from
the room in glee, still grinning widely. 

Her eyes narrowed at Wyatt.  “What
are you
really
doing here?”

He held up the brochure.  “I want
to…”  He flipped to a page and started reading off one of the taglines. “…’
experience
the excitement and adventure of costumed crime
.’  I have my resume if you
want to see it.  References are going to be hard though, because most of them
are dead.”

She swatted the paperwork out of
his hand and he watched it fly across the room.

“That’s okay; I also have one of
your refrigerator magnets.”  He pulled one of the rectangles out of his pocket
and held it up.  “Now, my room
will
have a mini-fridge, right?  Because
I’m going to need someplace to put this baby.”

“You are NOT a villain,
Fabricator.”

He shook his head.  “Nope.  ‘Fraid
not.”  He picked up his bag.  “I haven’t been
sworn in
yet.  So, is it
going to be one of those blood oath things, where I have to cut open my palm
and swear to serve your dark lord?  Would it be okay if I used my right palm?  Because
I’m left-handed, and I don’t want to have to have a wound on my…”

“That’s not what I mean and you
know it.”

He continued to absently scan the
room as if memorizing the room, just in case he’d need to navigate it in the
dark or through smoke and flames or something.  It was creepy.  “Do you mean
because I’m not dedicated to evil?  True.  I’m what you might call a
dabbler
in that respect.  Frankly, I think the whole lot of you are actually rather sad
and
terrifyingly
inept.  But thankfully, now that I’m here, that will
change.”

Her mouth fell open in shock.  “Sad?” 
Her voice went up an octave.  “
SAD!?!
  You know what’s sad?  An asshole
who thinks he’s wanted someplace where he’s obviously NOT.”

Wyatt nodded and started down the
hall.  “Oh, you’re right; that
IS
sad.  The poor man.”

She stalked after him.  “So why
doesn’t he just get the hell out and leave the sad people alone with their
ineptitude?”

He took on a sarcastic humoring tone. 
“Because he’d be ever so lonely without them.” 

She ran to get ahead of him.  “I
don’t know if you remember this or not, but you are a HERO.  Heroes do NOT join
organizations dedicated to evil; they try to STOP organizations dedicated to
evil.  So why is a goodie-two-shoes like you here?  Did you go insane or
something over the past few years and no one bothered to send us a memo on it? 
Well, I mean insane-ER anyway?  You show up out of the blue and ask to join,
but you obviously DON’T like us and think we’ll all idiots…”

He opened the door and walked
inside.  “I don’t recall saying that, but I’m shocked you were able to so
accurately gauge my feelings on the matter.”

Smug insufferable bastard.  It was
so cool that he was here though.  Like a visit from a genuine
celebrity
. 
Sure, he was annoying and they’d probably have to torture him soon to get
information out of him, but it was still
totally
awesome.  She began to
wonder if it would be too weird if she asked him for another autograph before
having him dragged away to be savagely beaten.  Maybe just a quick picture or
two?

“So if you think we’re so useless
and beneath someone like YOU, why are you here at all?”

He looked around the storeroom and
frowned.  “Wanna help me out here?  Where am I supposed to be?”

“NOT HERE.”

“Obviously.”  He pointed to the
shelves of supplies.  “I have no current need for five pound bags of flour. 
It’s good to know where they’re located though, just in case a crisis arises
and I find dry goods a necessity.”  He turned back to the door.  “Where is your
father and how do I get there to meet him?”

“Answer my question and I’ll answer
yours.”

“I have already
answered
your
question, Harlot.  I was quite clear; I wish to join you.”

She crossed her arms over her
chest.  “Well, I was clear as well then; he’s not here and in order to meet him
you’ll have to go find him.”