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Post by Cei-U! on May 5, 2016 9:50:44 GMT -5
Page 15
Panel 1: Longshot. Late morning at a Bakersfield truck stop. Hawkeye stands in the parking lot, duffle at his feet, as a beefy man in flannel and denim approaches from panel left. Behind them, semis pull in and out of the diesel pumps.
Buford (1): 'scuse me, hoss. You the guy needs a ride to Philly?
Hawkeye (2): I am if you're Buford Hollis.
Panel 2: Medium shot. Hawkeye and Buford shake hands.
Buford (3): My friends call me Bufe, Mister…?
Hawkeye (4): Ben Pierce. Pleased to meet you, Bufe.
Buford (5): What say we grab a cuppa joe before we hit the road, Ben?
Panel 3: Interior, the truck stop's café. In the foreground, Buford and Hawkeye sit opposite each other in a corner booth, chatting over a couple of steaks and coffee (for Bufe) or beer (for Hawkeye). Beyond them, a waitress walks past carrying plates of food. Assorted trucker types sit at the counter in the background, some chatting with the counterman, some reading newspapers, some watching a TV mounted in the corner at upper right.
Buford (6): …is a street corner and the time I leave you there. Your next handler'll contact you there, I s'pose.
Buford (7): I, uh, I know who you are.
Buford (8): You ain't what I was expectin'… but then it's all a big lie about you, ain't it?
Hawkeye (9): I didn't try to kill RFK, if that's what you mean. I saw… something… I shouldn't have…
Hawkeye (10): …so I got pumped full of drugs to make me act crazy and locked up…
Hawkeye (11): …all in the name of national security, natch.
Hawkeye (12): Ahh, enough ancient history. What's your story, Bufe? How'd you get mixed up in this little underground railroad?
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Post by Cei-U! on May 5, 2016 9:51:32 GMT -5
Page 16
Panel 1: Close-up of a wistful Buford superimposed over a full figure shot of him in his Razorback costume.
Buford (1): I used to moonlight in your line of work. Called myself Razorback. I was just startin' to get known when the Registration Act passed.
Panel 2: Reverse angle of Page 15, panel 3. In the foreground, the customers at the counter react to something on the TV (behind and above us in this shot). In the middleground, a waitress stops in mid-stride to watch. Behind her, Hawkeye and Buford turn in reaction to the buzz spreading through the diner.
Buford (2): What was it you…
Hawkeye (3): Hold on a sec. Something's up. Look at the others.
Customer 1 (4): …never holds press conferences. What's going on?
Customer 2 (5): Hey, Merle, turn that up.
Panel 3: Closeup of the TV screen on which Reed Richards, dressed in a tastefully expensive business suit, stands at a dais.
Caption (6): Reed Richards… alive. Sure, that's his technology I've been seeing. Holy cow, if he's marketing his inventions, he's got to be rolling in …
Caption (7): Wait a minute. What's he saying?
Panel 4: The same scene of Reed at the dais but now live in the room where the press conference is being held. Reporters and photographers crowd the foreground. To either side of Richards stand Matt Murdock and Senator Robert “Rebel” Ralston. Campaign banners and posters in the background advertise the Richards-Ralston ticket.
Reed (8): …cannot stand by while the Nelson Administration ignores every principle Americans hold dear to pursue a paranoid agenda that can only end in global holocaust.
Reed (9): And so I am announcing my candidacy for President of the United States as standardbearer of the newly-formed Liberty Party.
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Post by Cei-U! on May 5, 2016 9:52:09 GMT -5
Page 17
Panel 1: Medium shot of the booth from slightly behind and to the left of Hawkeye's left shoulder. Buford gets to his feet, his unfinished steak forgotten. Hawkeye sits with knife and fork poised over his meal, watching Bufe uncertainly.
Buford (1): I think maybe we should get goin’. This is gonna get ugly.
Hawkeye (2): Wha…?
Panel 2: Interior shot of the diner from its front door (which Hawkeye has been sitting with his back to throughout this scene), midway between the POVs of Page 15, Panel 3 and Page 16, Panel 2. At panel left, Buford and Hawkeye stand at the cash register while the cashier processes Bufe’s credit card, Bufe focused on business, Hawkeye on the knot of customers and staff crowding around the TV.
Customer 1 (3): Hell, yes, I’m voting for him. Reed Richards is a great man.
Counterman (4): Reed Richards is a freak… and the first thing he’ll do is set all the other freaks loose.
Waitress (5): I’ve been a lifelong Democrat but I can’t take any more of Nelson’s police state.
Customer 2 (6): Oh great. A hero-hugger.
Cook (7): Whatdidyoucallher?
Panel 3: Downshot of the men as they walk through the busy parking lot toward Buford's semi rig, the Big Pig.
Hawkeye (8): What was that all about?
Buford (9): You don’t know it, Ben, but you’re a counterculture icon.
Buford (10): “Free Hawkeye” t-shirts, benefit concerts and albums, the works.
Panel 4: Eye-level frontal shot of the Big Pig silhouetted against the bright noonday sky. Its doors stand open as the guys climb into the cab. The truckstop's neon sign, its lights off, is reflected in the driver's side of its windshield.
Buford (11): Half the country wants the Registration Act repealed, the other half wants it written into the Constitution. There’s been riots over it.
Panel 5: Longshot of the Pig from behind and above as it drives onto the entrance ramp to a busy freeway.
Buford (12): Nelson don’t need another country to have his war. We got one right here.
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Post by Cei-U! on May 5, 2016 9:52:50 GMT -5
Page 18
Panel 1: Extreme longshot of the Big Pig crossing the Arizona desert.
Caption (1): I can't help liking Bufe. He's grounded… solid. By Arizona, we're friends.
Hawkeye (2, small): …circuitry cribbed from Vision and Machine Man. Electro was our power source. Took us months to find the right frequency, months more to work out the plan.
Panel 2: Medium two shot of the guys in the cab, from behind, silhouetted against the windshield. Hawkeye stares out his open window, seeing something other than the landscape rolling by. Buford keeps his eyes on the road and his hands on the wheel. Driving ahead of them is a beat-up Volkswagon van with a psychedelic paint job. Haphazardly stuck to its back end are a collage of overlapping bumperstickers including “Make Love, Not War,” “America Out of Viet Nam!,” “Kennedy/Jackson '68,” “Atta Boy, Bobby! Reelect RFK,” “Save the Whales,” “No Nukes,” “Mutants Are Our Children”… and “Free Hawkeye.”
Hawkeye (3): I make it sound like “Hogan’s Heroes.” It wasn't.
Hawkeye (4): People died to get me out. People may die because I'm out.
Hawkeye (5): And now I'm a bumper sticker? That's just… surreal. I’m not worth any of it.
Panel 3: Close up of Buford, frowning for the first time since we met him.
Buford (3): That’s a loada manure, Ben.
Buford (4): You’re about the most important man… no, not man… symbol in the world right now.
Panel 4: Medium two shot into the cab from the POV of the drivers' side mirror. Buford is still keeping his eyes on the road but Hawkeye has turned away from the window. Rows of oil drills can be seen over his shoulder, stretching as far across the Oklahoma terrain as the eye can see.
Buford (5): You ain't just some fad, hot today, forgotten tomorrow. You symbolize every ugly injustice Corcoran an' his posse've done in the name of the good ol' US of A.
Panel 5: Longshot. The Pig drives through an abandoned West Virginia strip mine, a desolate landscape of naked rock and rusted quonset huts as lifeless as the surface of the moon.
Buford (7): Everybody knows you was framed, even the pro-registration folks. That makes you the one man who can tell the world the truth about Corcoran and be believed.
Buford (8): Me and a buncha others think you are worth our lives. Don't you make us look foolish now, y'hear?
Hawkeye (9): …
Hawkeye (10): I hear you, Bufe. I hear you.
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Post by Cei-U! on May 5, 2016 9:54:56 GMT -5
Page 19
Panel 1: Narrow horizontal panel. Interior of a motel room. The lights are out so not a lot of detail can be made out. In the foreground at left, Buford lies curled up in the sheets of his bed. Behind him, a bare-chested Hawkeye sits on the edge of the other bed watching television. What little can be seen is lit by the cold bluish glow of the TV screen, though thin ribbons of light from the parking lot peek through the slats of venetian blinds covering a picture window on the far wall.
Caption (1): Bufe insists on our staying in motels along the way. He says he likes his creature comforts but I think it's for my sake.
Caption (2): I use the opportunity to catch up on the news.
Panel 2: Group shot of the Fantastic Four in their original wide-collared costumes (see Fantastic Four #3) taken at the opening of their public headquarters at the Baxter Building. Only the Human Torch's right hand is aflame. The Thing is wearing his full costume but carries its face-concealing helmet under his arm. Typically, he is the only one of the Four not smiling.
Caption (3): Most of it is about Reed Richards' run for the White House. They show lots of footage of the Fantastic Four in their glory days.
Panel 3: Same shot but close in on Invisible Girl. Her features are no longer quite in focus.
Caption (4): It started going wrong in ’68. That’s when Sue Richards, The Invisible Girl, found out the cosmic rays that gave her superpowers were slowly killing her and her unborn child.
Panel 4: Same shot, extreme close-up of Sue's face, so close individual phosphor dots can be distinguished.
Caption (5): The rest of the FF went to a nasty place called the Negative Zone for a cure. They didn't return. Sue and her baby died.
Panel 5: Medium shot of a press conference held on the front portico of Avengers Mansion. Facing a phalanx of mikes and cameras are an impeccably-groomed but careworn Tony Stark, a cowlless Black Panther and Dr. Strange. The latter is dressed in civilian clothes.
Caption (6): It wasn't just the FF who went MIA. Thor was nowhere to be found. Hercules too. And magic stopped working.
Caption (7): It took Tony Stark, The Black Panther and Doctor Strange to work out what had happened.
Panel 6: A drawing of the planet Earth seen from outer space. The globe is covered with an opaque greenish glow. Superimposed over the image is the caption “artist's conception” in block letters.
Caption (8): Seems there's a barrier around the Earth that blocks all contact between dimensions. Thor was stuck in Asgard, Hercules in Olympus… and the FF in the Neg Zone.
Caption (9): There was nothing anyone could do about it.
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Post by Cei-U! on May 5, 2016 9:57:33 GMT -5
Page 20
Panels 1-5 are black and white shots of the TV screen.
Panel 1: Back to the FF group shot, close in on the figure of Reed this time.
Caption (1): They forgot to tell Mister Fantastic. Turned out the FF found refuge on some planet in the Zone. With the natives' help, Reed built a gizmo capable of piercing the barrier… once… for 4.7 seconds.
Panel 2: Medium shot of the surviving FFers—Reed in a business suit, Johnny in denim, Ben in trenchcoat, scarf, fedora and dark glasses—talking to reporters on the steps of the Federal Courthouse in NYC. Reed is calm, Ben non-commital. A scowling Johnny is flipping the bird to the press. A crowd of placard-carrying protestors line the stairs behind them, held in check by a line of cops in riot gear.
Caption (2): They returned three years ago, right after Foggy Nelson's inauguration. He welcomed them back with an order to comply with the Superhuman Registration Act of 1972…
Caption (3): …either work for the government, retire, or face prison on Monster Isle.
Panel 3: Medium shot of the Thing standing on the beach at Waikiki, holding a pineapple with a huge bite out of it in one hand and a can of Grimm's Pineapple Things in the other.
Caption (4): Ben Grimm, The Thing, married his longtime ladylove Alicia Masters and bought a pineapple plantation in Hawaii. Today he's a beloved commercial spokesman.
Thing (5, electronic): It's slobberin' time!
Panel 4: Longshot of the Torch in battle with a giant robot gorilla (see The Amazing Spider-Man Special #5). A caption reads “Footage courtesy of and © Paragon Pictures, Inc.”
Caption (6): Johnny Storm, The Human Torch, disappeared.
Panel 5: Medium shot of some talking head/financial guru gesturing at a chart showing a spectacular rise in the net worth and stock value of Richards Enterprises over a three year period.
Caption (7): Everybody expected Reed to lose himself in research but he surprised them all.
Caption (8): He started marketing a healing balm he'd invented. It put the Band-Aid folks out of business.
Panel 6: Same shot as Page 19, Panel 1. Hawkeye uses the remote to turn off the TV, plunging the room into complete darkness.
Caption (9): He used those profits to create the first line of affordable Fantasticars. Within two years, Richards was a multibillionaire.
SFX (10, small): click
Caption (11): Even a lunkhead like me can see he's engaging the enemy on his own terms. Bufe's right. This is war.
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Post by Cei-U! on May 5, 2016 9:58:23 GMT -5
Page 21
Panel 1: A mid-morning street scene. An intersection in the tiny commercial district of a working class Philadelphia neighborhood. Our point of view is from the southern end of the street running north/south (up and down in this panel), looking north from second-story level. There is no stoplight. Graffiti, much of it repeating the words “BBQ Boys,” covers nearly every available surface. Many of the storefronts are boarded up. One has extensive fire damage. The businesses that are hanging on include a laundromat, a barbeque restaurant, a bodega, a second-hand bookstore, and a pawnshop. The street is lined with scraggly trees, mounds of turned leaves lying around them. A small child plays in one such pile as her indulgent mother looks on. What few other pedestrians are out walk with downcast eyes. None of the cars parked at the curbs are less than five years old. Most need obvious repairs. Reed Richards' technology revolution has yet to reach here. The Big Pig pulls up to a decrepit bus stop at the southeast corner.
Caption (1): We pull into Philly the third day out. It's all happening too fast. I was so focused on escaping, I never bothered planning beyond that. I need time to think.
Buford (2): This is it. Not the nicest neighborhood. Maybe I should wait around.
Hawkeye (3): We better stick to the rules… but thanks for the thought. And everything else.
Panel 2: Dolly in to a medium two-shot of Hawkeye standing on the sidewalk talking to Bufe. The trucker half-stands, half-sits in the door of the cab, head hung in shame. Hawkeye puts a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.
Buford (4): Ben, I… When the law turned against us, I did what I was told. I told myself it was 'cause of my mama and my bein' her only support…
Buford (5): …but I was afraid. I didn't want no Avengers comin' after me.
Hawkeye (6): You got nothing to be ashamed of, friend. If I'd had family, I'da done the same.
Panel 3: Dolly in closer, rotating 45º to the left. Bufe now stands with head up and back straight as he shakes a smiling Hawkeye's hand.
Buford (7): What I'm really tryin' to say is I won't be lettin' y'all down this time. When you need me, I'll be there.
Hawkeye (8): I know you will.
Panel 4: Longshot of Hawkeye sitting at the bus stop, his duffel bag between his feet. If it's possible to look non-chalantly uptight, that's what he's doing. Over his shoulder, the proprietor of a Mom-and-Pop grocery stands in his store's doorway, eyeing the scarred stranger suspiciously.
Caption (9): I don't like it. I've been waiting around for more than half an hour. Where's my contact?
Voice (10, off-panel): Stop, thieves!
Panel 5: Dolly out. Full figure shot of Hawkeye running around the corner and towards the camera, his bag dangling from his right hand. He is now roughly where our camera was standing in Panel 1.
Caption (11): That came from this way
Caption (12): Oh, Hawkeye, you chucklehead, you just can't help yourself, can you?
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Post by Cei-U! on May 5, 2016 9:59:45 GMT -5
Page 22-23
Panel 1: Longshot across the top third of both pages of a ramshackle two-story cinderblock building and its small gravel parking lot. A large weather-faded sign painted in red, white and blue across the second floor façade identifies it as The Patriot's Corner (in large letters) Military Memorabilia and Nostalgic Curios (in small letters). Its front door is wide open. Large picture windows shaded by red-white-and-blue awnings bracket the entrance, their steel shutters folded aside for the day. In one window stand four faceless mannekins: the first in a WWI American infantryman's uniform, the second in that of a Spanish-American naval officer, one dressed as a Confederate colonel and the last as a Korean War bomber pilot. In the other is a bookrack displaying various war-themed books and magazines. Posters in the windows proclaim “We Buy and Sell!” “Best Prices in the Northeast!” “All Credits Card Welcome!” and “Keys Made.” A matching pair of windows on the second floor have yellowed curtains hanging in them. Both are open. A battered but spit-polished '63 Bel-Air sits under a scruffy-looking willow tree in the side yard, near a flight of stairs climbing to the apartment on the second floor. Cyclone fencing surrounds the lot on three sides. Three overflowing garbage cans stand in a row at the curb closest to where Hawkeye is standing in the foreground at panel left. In the parking lot, eight young teens—white, Hispanic and an Asian, none older than 15, all in matching satin jackets identifying them as the BBQ Boys—surround and threaten a tall, athletic blond man in blue jeans and white polo shirt with the store's logo printed on the pocket. Several of the gang members are holding switchblades.
Caption (1): I don't believe it. It's Steve! Bufe brought me right to the one man I most wanted to see.
Steve (2): Last chance, boys. Give me back the money and we won't have to get the police involved.
BBQ Boy 1 (3): You must be jokin', old man. We don't give back nothin'.
BBQ Boy 2 (4): You ain't gonna have time to call no po-lice…
BBQ Boy 3 (5): …you gonna be too busy bleedin'.
BBQ Boy 4 (6): We cut you up, man!
Caption (7): This oughtta be a riot. Those little brats have no clue what's about to happen to them.
Page 22, Panels 2-4: A triptych with continuous background. Dolly in on the gang as Steve, depicted as three separate figures, wades through the BBQ Boys.
Page 22, Panel 2: Steve takes out the two knifewielders closest to him with his first strike.
Steve (8): It's about time…
BBQ Boy 4 (9): Ahh!
BBQ Boy 3 (10): Whoof!
Page 22, Panel 3: He does a backflip, taking out two more.
Steve (11): …someone taught you youngsters…
BBQ Boy 5 (12): Nghh!
BBQ Boy 6 (13): Uh!
Page 22, Panel 4: Back on his feet, Steve drops the biggest teen with a right cross.
Steve (14): …some manners!
BBQ Boy 7 (15): Doh!
Page 23, Panel 2: Medium close-up of an amused Hawkeye.
Caption (8): He's holding back. The soft-hearted so-and-so can't bring himself to hurt kids…
Page 23, Panel 3: Full figure shot of the head BBQ Boy, looking scared and very, very young, as he draws a snub-nosed revolver from the waistband of his jeans. A dark stain has spread across his crotch. Behind him, another equally frightened gang member eggs him on.
Captain (9): …even nasty ones packing heat.
BBQ Boy 8 (10): Get him! Get him!
Page 23, Panel 4: Reverse angle. Extreme close-up of the pistol in the boy's trembling hand. In the far background, Hawkeye grabs the lid off one of the garbage cans.
Caption (11): Too far to jump him. What I wouldn't give to have a bow right now.
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Post by Cei-U! on May 5, 2016 10:13:24 GMT -5
Page 24
Panel 1: Full figure shot of Hawkeye, duffle bag forgotten at his feet and a wry smile on his lips, as he makes like the Discobolus.
Caption (1): The irony of this situation slays me.
Panel 2: Exaggerated perspective shot of the flung lid coming at us. Behind it, Hawkeye twists with the exertion of his throw.
Hawkeye (2, shout): Heads up, Steve!!
Panel 3: Open horizontal panel. Hawkeye's makeshift shield streaks across the panel from right to left. Along the way, it knocks the revolver out of the hand of its punk owner (shown from behind and from the waist up).
SFX (4): FTANG!
BBQ Boy 1 (5): Owwah!?
Panel 4: Eye level medium shot. In the foreground, the gang members beat a hasty retreat. One has a black eye, three have bloody noses or lips. All have had the swagger spanked out of them. Steve and Hawkeye stand shoulder to shoulder beyond them. The leader lingers long enough to toss a fistful of cash and coins at them.
BBQ Boy 3 (6): Oh, man, now there's two of 'em!
BBQ Boy 4 (7): 'sit. I'm outta here.
BBQ Boy 1 (8): Here's yer stinkin' money, ya crazy old creep.
BBQ Boy 8 (9): Who are those guys anyway?
BBQ Boy 7 (10): Me, I don' wanna know!
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Post by Cei-U! on May 5, 2016 10:15:07 GMT -5
Page 25
Panel 1: Reverse angle, looking back down the street. We look on over Steve and Hawkeye's shoulders as the gang members run off in different directions. Steve massages one wrist.
Steve (1): Punks. Too young to know who I am… was. Well, they know now.
Steve (2): Hello, Clint. Thanks for the save.
Hawkeye (3): Hiya, Steve. You prob'ly didn't need help but I couldn't resist.
Panel 2: Longshot of the two men, crouching on their haunches as they pick the scattered bills and coins out of the gravel.
Hawkeye (4): You don't seem surprised to see me.
Steve (5): The grapevine said someone had escaped but not who. I should've known that if anyone could find a way off that island…
Panel 3: Medium two shot. The boys hug, big grins splitting their faces.
Steve (6): …it would be you, you pigheaded sideshow hustler.
Steve (7): It's good to see you, Hawkeye.
Hawkeye (8): It's good to be seen… Cap.
Panels 4-5: Continuous background across both panels. Interior, the store. Unlike its shabby exterior, the shop is clean, tidy and well-lit. By the front door, propped open with a cannonball at page left, stand a spinner full of military buff magazines, a display stand for military issue sunglasses and a gumball machine. Against the far wall are three long jewelry display cases, their three shelves displaying medals, campaign ribbons, insignia and other small items. Bracketing the cases are a pair of mismatched antique bookcases jam-packed with books of all formats, sizes and colors. Atop one bookcase sits a large model of a B-29; on the other a model of Old Ironsides. On the wall above the long display case are several framed recruiting posters, including James Montgomery Flagg's iconic “I Want You” Uncle Sam. Another display case, perpendicular to the others, stands forward of the right wall. The case contains swords, sabres, daggers and knives. Atop it sits a cash register with cash drawer open, a telephone with the receiver hanging from the countertop by its cord, one of those sliding credit card processing thingamajigs, a notepad and pen, an overturned bottle of Coke, a portable casette player, and a couple of thick catalogs. The mouth of the bottle hangs over the edge of the counter, its sticky contents congealing in a puddle next to an overturned key rack. Blank keys are scattered across the tiled floor. A high stool lies on its side in front of the case. Between the door to the back room mentioned below and a key grinder stands a '50s-era Coke machine doubling as a bulletin board with photos of lost pets, handwritten notices, and business cards taped to it. Signs on the front of the display cases say “If You Don't See It, Ask!,” “Don't Even Think About Shoplifting!” and “Ask About Our Veterans' Discount!” In the extreme foreground at panel right is a clothing rack full of vintage uniform shirts and jackets. A pair of rusting metal fans hang from the ceiling, turning slowly.
Panel 4: Hawkeye, his knit cap now stuffed in his hip pocket, looks around him as he sets his duffle down by the left bookcase, not sure if he's happy or sad that his mentor has been reduced to this. Steve, conversely, seems thoroughly relaxed, comfortable, content as he shows him around.
Hawkeye (9): Cool little place you got here. Get much business?
Steve (10): Some. I did better before the Federal Gun Control Acts.
Steve (11): Most of my income these days comes from folks willing to shell out $15 a head to visit my back room.
Panel 5: Steve stands unlocking the door to the back room as Hawkeye looks on.
Hawkeye (12): Yeah? You got a speakeasy back here?
Steve (13): Better. Have a look.
Tape Player (14, small): …under the apple tree with anyone else but me, anyone else but…
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Post by Cei-U! on May 5, 2016 10:15:59 GMT -5
Pages 26-27
Double page spread. View from behind and just above Clint and Steve as they stand in the doorway of Steve's “back room,” a windowless concrete rectangle filled with the memorabilia of various super-heroes and villains. Facing the entrance is a multi-spotlighted display case containing a pair of wax figures wearing the uniforms of Captain America and Bucky. Similar cases displaying the costumes of Hawkeye, the original Human Torch (neither visible in this shot), the Falcon's original green-and-orange costume (see Captain America #117) and the Spirit of '76 occupy the room's four corners. Mounted on the wall to the left of the characters are Stilt-Man's armor (minus the stilts), Doctor Octopus's arms (less two-thirds of an arm) and the wrecked shell of one of the Mad Thinker's faceless androids (see Fantastic Four #68-71). On the opposite wall, the outer shell of the Sandman's costume (first seen in Fantastic Four #61) is mounted between Modok's hoverchair and Cadavus' Murder Chair (see Captain America #104). A camera mounted on a tripod stands ready to take souvenir pictures of customers in either seat. A trio of shelves running the length of the back wall bear rows of plaster heads wearing the masks, hats, cowls, helmets, etc., of Ant-Man, Aries (of the original Zodiac, see Avengers #72), the villainous Black Knight, the Chameleon, the Cobra, the original Crimson Dynamo, Cyclops (with original visor), the Druid (see Strange Tales #144), the Gladiator, the Green Goblin, Hellcat, Iron Fist, the Living Laser (his second, from Avengers Special #1), Magneto, the Masked Marauder, Mentallo, the Melter (his second, from Tales of Suspense #87), Mister Fear, Nighthawk (second costume), the Red Skull, Red Wolf, the Ringmaster, the Thing (from Fantastic Four #3), the Wasp (the original from Tales to Astonish #44) and the Wizard, as well as AIM, Hydra, Secret Empire and Sons of the Serpent hoods.* Below them, a display case exhibits Baron Zemo's death ray, Daredevil's billy club, Doctor Strange's first amulet (not the Eye of Agamotto; see first panel of the Strange story in Strange Tales #110), a Fantastic Four flare gun, four Goblin pumpkin bombs, puppets of Iron Man, the Sub-Mariner and the Thing confiscated from the Puppet Master, the Shocker's vibratory bracelets, one of Spider-Man's web-shooters and the Trapster's paste gun. On the wall above the shelves hang the artificial wings of the Beetle, Red Raven, and the Vulture. (Although they can’t be seen in this shot, the walls to either side of the entrance bear framed newspaper headlines announcing the feats of various teams, as well as framed copies of Amazing Fantasy #15, The Avengers #1, Captain America Comics #1, Daredevil #1, Fantastic Four #1, Journey into Mystery #83, Marvel Comics #1, Tales of Suspense #39, Tales to Astonish #35 and The X-Men #1.) Hanging suspended from the ceiling are both the Goblin’s flying broomstick (see Amazing Spider-Man #14) and his bat glider, as well as the second Mister Fear's flying disc (see Daredevil #57-8). Much of the villain-related paraphrenalia is damaged or in disrepair. All the exhibits are clearly labeled (though none can be read in this shot, of course!).
Hawkeye (1): Oh…
Hawkeye (2): …wow.
*Though listed alphabetically, the order in which the heads occur on the shelves is at the artists' discretion.
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Post by Cei-U! on May 5, 2016 10:17:41 GMT -5
Page 28
Panel 1: A medium close up of the smiling Captain America figure as he lunges forward, shield held up before him. We can just make out the reflections of Hawkeye and Steve in the case's glass.
Hawkeye (1): They let you keep the shield?
Steve (2): It's one of my old spares. They gave the Black Knight the real one.
Panel 2: Medium shot. Hawkeye stands face to face with the Thinker's android, his hands thrust deep into his jacket pockets. Behind him, Steve holds the bust of the Red Skull in his hands, looking more than a little Hamlet-like.
Hawkeye (3): I saw the Avengers in action a coupla days ago. No Captain America with 'em. Thought they woulda handed the name off the way they did Goliath and Iron Man.
Steve (4): I… knew things, Hawk… secrets dating back to the war… secrets that could embarrass the government if they got out.
Steve (5): I struck a deal with Kennedy: I'd retire quietly if Cap retired with me…
Panel 3: Reverse angle. In the foreground, Steve puts the head back in place. Behind him, Hawkeye has turned toward him, a sad smile on his face.
Hawkeye (6): …and if they didn't execute me.
Hawkeye (7): You convinced Bobby to commute the sentence.
Panel 4: Dolly in to an extreme closeup of the Skull mask. A tiny gleam of light reflects off something hidden in the nasal opening.
Hawkeye (8, off-panel): We've been talkin' pretty freely here. Aren't they watching you?
Steve (9, off-panel): Not for a couple of years. I report to a caseworker once every two weeks but otherwise they leave me alone.
Panel 5: In a darkened room, a mysterious figure (who will be revealed as Gabe Jones next issue) wearing headphones watches a TV monitor showing Steve and Hawkeye from the Skull mask's POV.
Steve (10, from screen): As far as Uncle Sam can tell, I'm just another bitter, broken old vet.
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Post by Cei-U! on May 5, 2016 10:18:35 GMT -5
Page 29
Panel 1: Vertical panel running alongside panels 2 and 3. The men stand before the display case containing Clint's costume and gear.
Steve (1): I'm particularly proud of this display.
Hawkeye (2): Holy cow. Steve, I… I'm…
Panel 2: Reverse angle. We look down over the mannequin's right shoulder. The arrows in their quiver bisect the panel. To their left we see Hawkeye, his eyes on the arrows. To their right we see Steve, his eyes on Hawkeye.
Hawkeye (3): The arrows. Are they…?
Steve (4): All the arrowheads were confiscated, even the ones hidden in the tunic.
Panel 3: The men stand back in the store. Steve locks the door to the back room as Clint waves aside his friend's concern.
Steve (5): Tell me you're not thinking about suiting up. If you do…
Hawkeye (6): I'm a dead man. Duh.
Panel 4: Interior, Steve's studio apartment above the store. Sunlight pours through the two large open windows. Below one is an old-fashioned steam radiator, below the other is Steve's old Army footlocker. The décor, what there is of it, is best described as second-hand genteel: the shabby furniture—armchair, coffee table, floor lamp, dinette table and chair, bureau, nightstand, coatrack—all dates from the late 1930s/early '40s. No two pieces match. The apartment's Murphy bed is folded away in the right-hand wall, the bathroom door on its far side. (The front door, to which the outside stairway at the back of the store leads, is behind us in this shot.) On the back wall between the windows hangs a tattered 48-star American flag. It is the only decoration on the walls, aside from a clock in the tiny kitchenette at left. A reading light, telephone (rotary dial, natch) and Big Ben alarm clock sit atop the nightstand. The coffee table holds a small portable television, its antenna fully extended, and a few magazines. The living, dining and sleeping areas are distinguished by ratty throw rugs on the scuffed hardwood floor. In the kitchenette (which consists of a sink, antique refrigerator and small bank of cupboards), Steve uses a hotplate to brew a pot of coffee while Hawkeye sits pensively at the dinette table.
Steve (7): Level with me, Clint. Why is Corcoran so afraid of you? What happened to you that night?
Hawkeye (8): They were right about one thing: I was tryin' to get to the President… but not to kill him.
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Post by Cei-U! on May 5, 2016 10:19:17 GMT -5
Page 30
Panel 1: Closeup of Clint's face, the shadows cast on the left side of his face (our right) merging into an exterior night shot of the White House framed by dense vegetation. The complex is surrounded by electrified security fences topped by razorwire. A pair of armed military guards, each leading a pair of German shepards, pass each other on the floodlit lawn. Above them, helicopters with mounted spotlights circle the night skies.
Caption (1): I knew Corcoran and his goons were shielding him from the worst consequences of the Registration Act, not tellin' him the truth about civilian casualties.
Panel 2: In the foreground, a fully costumed Hawkeye, bow slung across his back, cautiously approaches the outer fence.
Caption (2): I was gonna talk to Bobby, give him the other side of the story.
Panel 3: Hawkeye, silhouetted against clouds lit from beneath by the city's light, uses his rocket arrow to vault over the fences and into the treetops. Below him, two guards and four guard dogs snooze amidst the low-hanging fumes from a pair of his sleep gas arrows shot onto the lawn.
Caption (3): You shoulda seen me infiltrate the White House perimeter, Cap. It was a thing of beauty. I was like a bowslingin' ninja, man.
Panel 4: Full figure frontal shot of Hawkeye as he cautiously creeps down a darkened corridor, blast arrow at the ready. What little of the hall can be seen—a wall sconce hanging by its wiring, a framed portrait with smashed glass hanging askew, Victorian-era wallpaper peeling, a filthy carpet strewn with light rubble — gives eloquent testimony of recent violence. His attention is caught by the bluish light issuing from a hole punched in the wall at panel right.
Caption (4): But, as usual, I'd rushed in without studyin' the schematics. I got lost in the lower levels. That's where I found him.
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Post by Cei-U! on May 5, 2016 10:19:56 GMT -5
Page 31
Full page panel from Hawkeye's POV. A man in shirtsleeves stands silhouetted against a bank of futuristic monitors of various sizes, his back to us. He is a tall, broad-shouldered yet elegantly slim man with a full head of black hair streaked with silver. Even with his jacket off and shirt cuffs unbuttoned, both his taste and his tailoring are expensive. Though we cannot see his face, his stance suggests equal parts pride, arrogance, and frustration. On a huge monitor at panel left, the face of an angry Dorrek, Emperor of the Skrulls, fills the screen. This is mirrored at panel right by a monitor bearing the amorphous countenance of the Kree Supreme Intelligence.
Caption (1): It was the first time I'd ever seen him up close. National Security Advisor Kane Corcoran.
Caption (2): Except it wasn't. I recognized that stance. I knew that voice.
Dorrek (3): I grow impatient with your excuses, human. You promised Earth's superbeings would be subdued by now.
Corcoran (4): The people of this age are morally stronger than the history texts implied, your majesty. I did not anticipate the fervor of the public backlash against the mutant massacres.
Corcoran (5): There was no choice but to roll back my timetable. I assure you the plan moves forward.
Supreme Intelligence (6): It had better. We have upheld our end of the bargain. No extraterrestrial race has entered your solar system since we agreed to protect you.
Supreme Intelligence (7): Do you know how many Kree legions died to turn back the Celestials?
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