Chapter III: Evolutions
Cover page: Back-alley, the street brightly lit and far in the background. Palamedes facing the reader, the street exit at his back, diving behind a dumpster. He's wearing what looks similar to greyish stormtrooper armor beneath a white toga. His mask is white, a Greek actor's mask, with hair sculpted into it in white, and eyeholes. The mask ends at his upper lip and sweeps down at about a 45-degree angle so that his mouth and chin are entirely visible. Grey padding covers his neck. There are a couple of puddles to the side that his legs are pointing toward, with a bullet-splash in each. A knot-top type stands with his back to the reader, firing a pistol, tracking on Palamedes. Duality is in the foreground, about to kidney-punch the knot-top from behind.)
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Page 1: Panel 1: (half-page. View looking out from a hangar: a black UH-1 Iroquois from the side, its door open. Two vague figures are in the cockpit. There are no markings other than the aircraft ID in white. Special Agent David Carson is just inside the hangar, talking into a bulky, portable phone, his back to the chopper. His shirt sleeves are rolled up, his tie is semi-undone, and he has his coat over a satchel sitting near the wall of the hangar. He's wearing a pair of mirrored sunglasses and has a finger in the other ear.) Carson: "Chief Van Dyk, please." "Bull? It's Dave Carson. Yeah." "I assume you know what I'm calling about? Good."
Panel 2: (Same shot.) "Eyeballs on this one, Bull. I need the place shut down by the book, and yesterday. As a matter of fact, clear the entire block out front. The further away the press are, the better." "I'll bet stringers are there already. Aside from that, everything should be routine."
Panel 3: (Carson wandering further into the hangar, chopper behind him.) Carson: "And I'll need transport to the site when I land. ETA is about an hour and a half. Sit on things until I get there, will ya?" "Do you have a warrant yet? Great. I'll see you soonest."
Panel 4: (Carson near the wall, coat in one hand and placing the phone into the open satchel. The chopper's still in the background, blades spinning.)
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Page 2: Panel 1: (Carson from behind, halfway to the chopper, coat and satchel in his left hand, slightly crouched.) (In its own color box distinct from Rorschach's journal entries; the text looks handwritten in ink) (bottom) "Case Notes, 10/11/88. 11:15 My 'shuttle flight' turns out to be a big, black bird."
Panel 2: (Carson stepping up into the cargo bay. The copilot, in flight suit and helmet, can be seen inside.) Case Notes (bottom): "Good thing I haven't had lunch yet."
Panel 3: (The door shut, Carson seated and visible through the rear window.) Case Notes (bottom): "These rollercoaster rides play hell with my stomach."
Panel 4: (half-page: view from the front; the chopper takes off from the pad, nose slightly downward. The hangar is in the background, and more of Dulles International Airport can be seen behind that.)
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Page 3: Panel 1: (Interior of Burgers 'N' Borscht. A gumchewing teenager is at the register now, no nametag in evidence. Several members of the press are seated in booths, eating or having coffee. General low buzz of talking.)
Panel 2: (View through windows onto the street. People walking down the street stop and look south.)
Panel 3: (Outside view with the Burgers 'N' Borscht on the extreme left. Six cars come to the intersection from the south, in columns of three, two NYPD cruisers leading the way, followed by two black Lincoln Mark VII's, and trailed by two more NYPD cars. The police have their lights on but there are no sirens.)
Panel 4: (Reporters, cameramen, stringers, and spectators boil out of the Burgers 'N' Borscht. One of them is Seymour, Hector Godfrey's assistant. The lead four cars have turned right, kitty-corner from the diner, and are heading down the block. The last two now prevent entry into the block, one behind the other lengthways across it. The drivers are out of their open doors, standing in front of their cars, gesturing for the small crowd to stop.)
Panel 5: (Their partners are at their open trunks, pulling out yellow plastic barriers. The Lincolns are stopped in front of a building near the far end of the block, and the lead cruisers have just reached the end of the block.) Cop #1 (at the B&B intersection): "Alright folks, this is a crime scene now. No one goes down this block." (General groans from the press. Cop on the newsstand's corner gestures for Fitz and a couple of customers to come to the corner. The watch-seller's table is no longer in evidence; no one seems to have taken over since the advent of the squid.)
Panel 6: (View of the NE corner, toward the Promethean Cab Company. A couple of print reporters with notebooks open, one with a microphone pointed toward Cop #1. Somebody tries to slide by in the background and the cop setting up the barricade pulls him back.) Reporter #1 (mic at her mouth): "What crime?" Cop #1: "I don't know. I just know I'm supposed to secure this intersection." Reporter #2: "Looks like they're in front of Pioneer Publishing." Reporter #3 (to Reporter #2): "I knew there was a reason they gave you a pencil." (General laughter from the reporters.)
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Page 4: Panel 1: (Front of Pioneer Publishing, the Lincolns double-parked in front of it. Five FBI agents getting out of the cars. From the front passenger side of the lead Lincoln comes Sture ('Bull') Van Dyk, a 6'5", burly Scandinavian man with brush-cut blonde hair. He towers over the rest of the agents.)
Panel 2: (Two of the agents move to clear people from the street, and Van Dyk and the remaining two go to the door to Pioneer Publishing's building.) Van Dyk: "Alright, there shouldn't be any trouble. No guns blazing but stay frosty." "You two secure the presses and I'll take care of the office. Go."
Panel 3: (View from inside the building through the open door to the street. White fluorescent bulbs on the ceiling light the hallway. The agents are just entering the building; the "Pioneer Publishing" plaque is up on the right wall from the viewer's perspective. No one is in the hall. A metallic clacking can be heard.)
Panel 4: (View from further down the hall; there's a solid door in the left wall. One of the agents listens quietly at the door. The clacking can be heard through it. Van Dyk moves past them down the hall.)
Panel 5: (Both agents are at the now-open door, with badges out. Beyond them are a series of printing presses, stacks of papers, carts, and various other tools of a printing company. About a half-dozen people are visible, each wearing a headset to muffle the noise of the presses. The noise is enough to make normal speaking impossible.)
Panel 6: (Striding confidently into the warehouse-sized room, the first agent holds his badge up high and attracts the attention of the apparent foreman. The agent beckons to him. A couple of the other people look curiously in the agent's direction.)
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Page 5: Panel 1: (Shot of the entry to Hector Godfrey's office. He's thumbing through a file cabinet when Van Dyk walks in. Shot from Van Dyk's point of view, Hector looking surprised but not shocked.) Van Dyk: "Mr. Godfrey?" Hector: "Let me guess. You're either Secret Service or FBI, and I don't see an earpiece."
Panel 2: (Shot of Van Dyk, showing his badge to Hector. It's clearly visible, the badge in an opened fold-out and his FBI ID in the other side.) Van Dyk: "Very good, Mr. Godfrey."
Panel 3: (Shot of Hector over Van Dyk's shoulder; his eyes get big as he looks at the ID.) Hector: "Bull Van Dyk? The Hero of Hai Phong?" Van Dyk (nodding): "That was a long time ago..." Hector: "I remember it like it was yesterday! I covered your story when I worked for the Gazette. Must be pretty important for the Bureau Chief to take a personal interest. Ah, but sit down, please."
Panel 4: (Shot of both, sitting on either side of the desk. A phone, rolodex, and electric typewriter sit on the desk. Van Dyk fills out his chair impressively. Hector is smiling widely.) Van Dyk: "Don't read too much into it. I like to keep my hand in; I take command of the scene every once in a while. Now, I appreciate the adulation, but there's business to be dealt with. Just for the record, you are Hector Godfrey?" Hector: "Yes."
Panel 5: (Shot of Van Dyk handing a folded page across the desk.) Van Dyk: "Here's your warrant. We'll impound your records here, and interview all of your employees. Agents are in the warehouse shutting down the presses temporarily, until we can get statements from everybody down there. Once they're done, you can restart the presses. Shouldn't be more than an hour or two."
Panel 6: (Shot of both, Van Dyk now with pen and small notepad in hand, opened. Hector frowns as he reads the unfolded warrant.) Van Dyk: "Any regular employees who aren't here now?" Hector: "Yeah, one guy I sent to get some lunch. He should be back soon." Van Dyk: "Name?" Hector: "Seymour Smith." Van Dyk: "Description?" Hector: "About 5'9", 25 years old, kind of chubby, red hair, freckles."
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Page 6: Panel 1: (Van Dyk, holding pen and notepad in one hand and talking into a walkie-talkie in the other.) Van Dyk: "Attention roadblocks. Look for white male, mid-20's, 5'9", red hair, heavy build, named Seymour Smith. He's an employee here. Deliver to me ASAP. Over." Cop #1 (through walkie-talkie): "Copy that." Cop #2 (through walkie-talkie): "10-4."
Panel 2: (Shot of both, Van Dyk back to having pen in one hand and notepad in the other.) Van Dyk: "We may as well get your preliminary interview out of the way now. Who wrote the story in question?" Hector: "A freelancer we use every once in a while named Willie Brown." Van Dyk: "Any idea of his whereabouts?" Hector: "I can get you his mailing address. Just a second."
Panel 3: (Hector shuffles his Rolodex.) Hector: "Yeah, here it is." Van Dyk: "Mind if I use your phone?" Hector: "Sure, go ahead."
Panel 4: (Hector hands a Rolodex card to Van Dyk, who has the phone cradled against his ear, dialing with one hand as he takes the card with the other.) Van Dyk: "Thank you."
Panel 5: (Shot of both; Hector sits with his hands folded on his desk as Van Dyk talks into the phone.) Van Dyk: "Central? This is Chief Van Dyk. I need a suspect pickup. Name: Willie J. Brown. Residence is 220 W. 120th St., Apt. 9. Return for interrogation. If suspect isn't at location, stake it out until further orders. And I'll need a full runup on him. Thank you."
Panel 6: (Shot of both; the phone is now back in its cradle.) Van Dyk: "Alright, walk me through the process of the article's publication, from the beginning."
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Page 7: Panel 1: (The outside of the FBI complex in New York, a cement helipad visible. Two FBI agents stand near the pad. Special Agent Carson's Iroquois can be seen vaguely in the distance.)
Panel 2: (Same shot, the chopper now about to touch down on the helipad.) Case Notes (bottom): "I'll never get used to these things. Man was not meant to fly inside some kind of giant dragonfly."
Panel 3: (Same shot, the chopper now landed and the door open, Carson climbing out. He has his coat and satchel in one hand and a plastic bag filled with vomit in the other. He looks green around the gills. One of the agents approaches, gesturing for Carson to come toward him.)
Panel 4: (As soon as they're out of the prop wash, the chopper takes off again in the direction of Laguardia Airport. The agents' hair is being blown into strange shapes. Carson and one agent are shaking hands.) Agent #1: "Welcome to New York, Special Agent Carson. I'm Agent Beckwith." Carson: "Thank you."
Panel 5: (Carson turned toward the other agent, handing him his barf bag.) Carson: "Take care of this for me, will you?" Agent #2: "Yes, sir."
Panel 6: (Carson and Beckwith walking toward some stairs that lead below the helipad, toward the FBI offices, the other agent trailing, holding the bag gingerly.) Beckwith: "You look the worse for wear. Anything we can get you?" Carson: "How about a vat of coffee?" Beckwith: "Hahaha...the lifeblood of law enforcement. Sure, this way."
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Page 8: Panel 1: (Shot from behind Agents Beckwith and Carson. Beckwith is driving another Lincoln. A portable compass sits in the middle of the dashboard, showing a couple of points east of north. A crossed street sign can be seen through the front window, standing on the corner; it reads "7th Ave." and "24th St." Looking up 7th Ave., there are a few taxis moving up and down the avenue, and some cars parked on the street. Parking spaces are available on the curb. Carson sits in the front passenger seat, sipping his coffee, looking toward Beckwith; the rearview mirror shows a red flasher sitting in the back window, doing its thing. Carson is now wearing his suit coat, his tie done up properly.) Beckwith: "It shouldn't take more than five minutes to get there." Carson: "This place used to be packed with traffic. It's lunchtime, ferchrissakes." (long burp) "Sorry about that." Beckwith: "No problem. I get airsick too." Carson: "I usually don't, but those damn choppers get me every time."
Panel 2: (Exterior shot, the Lincoln speeding past the refurbished Madison Square Garden complex.) Beckwith: "Just about the only good thing that came of the alien squid. You can go miles now without seeing a traffic jam or accident." Carson: "Three years, and the place still isn't back to normal." Beckwith: "I don't know if it'll ever be the same. People have long memories on this one." Carson: "They'll come back, eventually. Too much good real estate here. Memories are short where there's a profit involved. Enjoy the peace and quiet while you can."
Panel 3: (Interior shot again. Carson pointing forward, through the windshield.) Carson: "There you go: a traffic jam." Beckwith: "That's where we're headed."
Panel 4: (Exterior shot of the B&B intersection. Beckwith's Lincoln is now double-parked near the rear police cruiser. Both agents are out of the car, Beckwith moving toward the cop standing on the crowd side of the police cruisers, his ID wallet open.) Carson: "I need more coffee. I'll be right back. Deal with this guy, will you?" Beckwith: "You got it."
Panel 5: (Interior of the B&B, Carson at the counter, paying the teenage cashier for his coffee. A small knot of reporters surrounds him.) Cashier: "Let's see...large coffee and dry white toast. That'll be $1.85, please. " Carson: "Here you go." Cashier: "Thank you." Reporter #1: "Excuse me, are you a federal agent?" Carson, drolly, without skipping a beat: "No, I'm a musician. No comment, people."
Panel 6: (Same shot, but Carson is now walking out the door carrying his coffee and a small brown bag, the reporters in tow. The crowd can be seen through the window; it's grown so that it fills up the corners of the street closest to the B&B. Several cameramen have their cameras aimed toward the Pioneer Publishing building. Agent Beckwith is standing with the cop, talking to him.) Case Notes (upper box): "Rooting around in others' tragedy and dirt, it rubs off on them. There are only two forms of life lower than reporters: lawyers and politicians." (box at bottom): "I wish they weren't quite so necessary an evil."
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Page 9: Panel 1: (The B&B intersection, long shot. Beckwith is in his car; the rear cruiser has pulled back enough for him to get through. Carson walking towards Beckwith's car, gesturing behind him as a reporter tries to ask him something.)
Panel 2: (Same shot; Carson is in Beckwith's car. It's between the cruisers now, heading toward Pioneer Publishing.)
Panel 3: (Same shot. Beckwith's car is now behind the other FBI cars in front of Pioneer Publishing. The rear cruiser is in its original place, blocking the intersection.)
Panel 4: (Close shot of Beckwith and Carson walking through the entrance to Pioneer Publishing. The clacking sound is gone now; the door leading to the presses is open and the two agents can be seen with a knot of people around them. Among them is Seymour.) Beckwith, talking through a walkie-talkie: "Chief? Special Agent Carson and I are here." Van Dyk's voice, coming through it: "Excellent. Help the agents take statements there, and send Carson down the hall and to the left. I'm in the office with Mr. Godfrey." Beckwith: "Yes, sir."
Panel 5: (Carson nods at Beckwith and heads toward the office as Beckwith moves through the open door.)
Panel 6: (Shot over Carson's shoulder, looking in at Van Dyk and Godfrey. Van Dyk has risen and is moving toward Carson, smiling and with his hand extended.) Carson: "Well, if it isn't the Bull himself! How's it going, big man?" Van Dyk: "Can't complain. Are you still giving them fits at HQ?" Carson, laughing: "Only as much as they do me."
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Page 10: Panel 1: (Side shot of Carson and Van Dyk shaking hands. Godfrey has risen at his desk.)
Panel 2: (Van Dyk and Carson now disengaged, both facing Godfrey.) Van Dyk: "Special Agent David Carson, this is Hector Godfrey. Hector, Special Agent Carson." (Aside, to Carson): "Hector's been nothing if not cooperative."
Panel 3: (Carson standing over the desk, shaking Hector's hand.) Hector: "Nice to meet you, Agent Carson. Pull up a chair." Carson: "Thank you."
Panel 4: (All three are now seated, Carson and Van Dyk facing Hector across the desk. Carson has his notepad open.) Van Dyk: "Hector and I are just about finished. I have an APB out for the author of the Veidt article, a freelancer. Do you have any questions for him?" Carson: "One or two. This shouldn't take too long, Mr. Godfrey." Hector: "Certainly. What did you want to know?"
Panel 5: (Same shot.) Carson: "Well, I'm curious how the article got published in the first place. I assume you fact-check all your stories?" Hector: "Yes, of course. Willie Brown's a solid reporter. He's done several full-length articles for us; I've never had any reason to doubt his veracity in any way. He protected his source when we spoke, but he assured me the article was correct. The problem here was the difficulty of getting confirmation from you folks."
Panel 6: (Same shot, Carson writing in his notepad.) Carson: "I see. How did you confirm it?" Hector: "Well, I called up the DC office several times, but I got nothing but runaround. 'Leave a message, we'll get back to you,' that sort of thing. After a week of that with no response from your folks, I decided to run it anyway."
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Page 11: Panel 1: (Carson, looking up at Hector over his notepad, Van Dyk in the background.) Carson: "I'm sure you're aware that we don't normally comment on possible investigations in any way." Hector: "Yes, I got that impression." Carson: "Wouldn't you say publishing was a little rash?" Hector: "Look, Agent Carson, we both know I was never going to get any confirmation from your end. In the absence of any realistic way to confirm, I made a judgment call, and based on Willie's track record I decided to run with it."
Panel 2: (Carson frowning at Hector.) Carson: "Bad call. Adrian Veidt isn't someone to trifle with. Nor is the Bureau, for that matter." Hector: "Yes, well, hindsight is 20/20."
Panel 3: (Same shot.) Carson: "I wouldn't try that as a legal argument, and I have a feeling you'll be needing one." Hector: "Does that mean you'll be prosecuting?" Carson: "That's not up to me, but I can practically guarantee Veidt will be suing you at the very least."
Panel 4: (Same shot; Hector looks ill.) Hector: "Wonderful. Just what I need." Carson: "We're going to impound your records as well. They'll be returned to you once we have copies of everything pertinent to the investigation. I'll have a couple of agents come to box everything up. In the meantime, I'd suggest you copy anything that's absolutely essential to daily operation. There's no telling how long it'll be before we can get it back to you."
Panel 5: (Hector pulling out a pack of cigarettes.) Carson: "And Mr. Brown didn't reveal to you his source, or sources?" Hector: "No, he wouldn't."
Panel 6: (Hector offering the pack across the desk.) Hector: "Have a smoke?" Carson: "No." Van Dyk: "No, thank you."
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Page 12: Panel 1: (Same shot, Carson turned toward Van Dyk, and Hector lighting his cigarette with a disposable lighter.) Carson: "Bull, would you call Agent Beckwith in here, please?" Van Dyk: "Sure."
Panel 2: (Same shot, Van Dyk with his walkie-talkie in his hand and talking into it, Hector with his hand to his forehead, smoking, and Carson jotting down notes in his pad.) Van Dyk: "Agent Beckwith, would you come to the office, please?" Beckwith (through the walkie-talkie): "Be there in a minute, Chief."
Panel 3: (Carson looking up at Hector again.) Carson: "Mr. Godfrey, do you have any computers in the office?" Hector: "No, we do everything the old-fashioned way here. The budget wouldn't allow it even if I wanted one."
Panel 4: (Beckwith walks in the door. Carson gets up and turns toward him. Hector flicks the ash from his cigarette into a wastebasket on the floor. The cigarette is half-smoked now.) Carson: "Ah, Agent Beckwith. I'd like you to oversee the packaging of all documents, please. Have the other agents help you once they're finished taking statements." Beckwith: "Yes, sir."
Panel 5: (Carson turns back to Hector.) Carson: "I doubt I need to say this now, but you're prohibited from discussing anything having to do with this investigation with anyone except your attorney." Hector, looking down at the desk: "Yes, yes, of course."
Panel 6: (Same shot.) Carson: "Well, I think I'll take a look at the presses. Care to come along, Bull?" Van Dyk: "Sounds good to me." Carson: "Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Godfrey." Hector, absently: "You're welcome."
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Page 13: Panel 1: (Carson and Van Dyk at the foot of the stairs. Van Dyk is several inches taller than Carson. The presses' clacking has stopped.) Carson, whispering: "So what do you think about Godfrey's story?" Van Dyk: "I think he was pretty straight with us. Never any hesitation in answering my questions; I didn't detect any lies. He's a good enough sort, if a little extremist and a conspiracy nut." Carson: "Well, he's reaped the whirlwind this time." Van Dyk: "Truly."
Panel 2: (Same shot.) Van Dyk: "I've got a team out to gather up the author and they should have his file by the time we get back to the Bureau. I doubt we'll get much that's useful out of the rest of the employees, but it's best to be thorough, especially on this one." Carson: "Yeah, the Director is all over this, along with half the world's news agencies."
Panel 3: (The two move down the corridor toward the open door to the presses.) Carson: "How's Betty doing these days?" Van Dyk: "Eh, she's alright, I guess. Since Christian went to college last month she's been suffering from empty nest syndrome. But she'll get over it, find something to do." "Speaking of which, I'm sure she'd love to see you. Maybe I can see about throwing another barbecue."
Panel 4: (Shot of Carson, grinning.) Carson: "Are you kidding? One of your infamous barbecues? I wouldn't miss it." Van Dyk: "You still be around on Saturday?" Carson: "I will now."
Panel 5: (They're at the door.) Van Dyk: "Excellent. I'll make sure there are plenty of bibs." The two, in unison: "Because one is never enough! Hahaha!"
Panel 6: (Shot from behind them, walking through the door. An agent and Seymour can be seen through the glass window of an office adjoining the presses, talking. The rest of the employees surround the other agent.)
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