This is the script for the Lady Blackhawk story in Bop #75...I get a lot of requests to see scripts for some reason, and I thought you guys might enjoy seeing it. Hope it comes out okay! Interestingly, Eduardo misunderstood the editor's instructions and made the story two pages longer, which was a big improvement so the story was less cramped!

Best,

Gail



THERE WOULD BE NO SPRING

(The title refers to a comment made by a Rosie the Riveter type)



First!

Eduardo, let me say I’m a huge fan of your work and have been for ages. Union Station was one of the best graphic novels I’ve ever read. I can’t tell you how delighted I am to be working with you.

Second, please feel free to adapt as you see fit. Page layouts are merely suggestions, and if you feel like adding something, please do. Really looking forward to this.


PAGE ONE:


PANEL ONE: A seedy bar, current day, as a wiry old man, wearing spectacles, an opened vest over a rumpled shirt, and restaurant apron tied at the waist, is skeptically viewing a woman coming in holding a bottle of champagne loosely in one hand. It’s Lady Blackhawk, but we don’t see her face yet. We just see a woman in khaki slacks with a black bomber’s jacket. She’s turned away from us here, but she’s obviously still young and vital. The bartender’s vest or shirt (either) has a breast pocket.

BARTENDER: Hey, girly. You can’t bring no outside booze in
here. They’ll boost my liquor license.






PANEL TWO: She stuffs some bills awkwardly into his breast pocket. His expression softens.

BARTENDER: I meant, WELCOME, young lady.

LADY BLACKHAWK: You’re aces, hon.

BLACKHAWK CAP: We had this deal, this agreement.

BLACKHAWK CAP: Olaf, bless his heart...he was smarter than
anyone gave him credit for.

PANEL THREE: She sits in a dingy booth, by herself, holding the decades-old bottle of champagne, looking at it sadly.

BLACKHAWK CAP: He said it was a “tontine.”

BLACKHAWK CAP: The last of us would drink a toast from this
bottle, to the memory of the time.

PANEL FOUR: Flashback, still present day, at an outdoor funeral ceremony, as rain pours down on the Asians in attendance. Lady Blackhawk is wearing her Blackhawk outfit (with black pants, rather than her usual bare legs). She is saluting.

ZINDA: You’re on the wing, Wu Cheng. At ease, soldier.


ZINDA CAP: So I’m keeping my word.

ZINDA CAP: Zinda Blake.


PANEL FIVE: Just her, alone in the booth, with no one in any of the adjoining booths. She looks alone, and the bar’s dank, depressing atmosphere seems to fit her mood, as she pours herself a glass of champagne.

ZINDA CAP: Last of the Blackhawks.

PAGE TWO:

PANEL ONE: Big glorious flashback shot of the WWII Blackhawks, in formation, flying over the pacific ocean with several US PT boats below, providing covering fire. We may see a Japanese plane (a Mitsubishi A6M) aflame somewhere in the shot. Reference: http://www.air-and-space.com/20011006%20Chino%20page%201.htm

The Blackhawk planes can be any of the designs they used in WWII, but the most famous and popular is this one: http://ourworlds.topcities.com/blackhawk/models/mod_f5f.htm

Based on this real plane, the Grumman SkyRocket:
http://www.daveswarbirds.com/usplanes/aircraft/skyrockt.htm

If you decide to use a different plane, Eduardo, please let me know so I can change the text.


ZINDA CAP: The irony is...

ZINDA CAP: ...none of us thought for one moment that we’d
survive World War II.



ZINDA CAP: Flying Grumman Skyrockets the Navy didn’t want
against better-trained, better equipped pilots...

ZINDA CAP: On a GOOD day we’d only be outnumbered five to one.


ZINDA CAP: But we had something most people in this world will
never have--

ZINDA CAP: --We had a cause we knew was worth our blood.



TITLE AND CREDITS:

THERE WOULD BE NO SPRING

PENCILLER: EDUARDO BARRETTO
INKER: ?
WRITER: GAIL SIMONE
COLORIST: ?
LETTERER: ?
EDITOR: JOAN HILTY


PAGE THREE:

PANEL ONE: The Blackhawk Island headquarters from the outside. Still WWII, with the place being spic and span.

http://ourworlds.topcities.com/blackhawk/history/island.htm

ZINDA CAP: Pilots who see regular combat tend to crack
smart in kind of a dark way, turns out.

ZINDA CAP: That’s what made the bottle such a riot.


PANEL TWO: Interior of the common room, showing the WWII Blackhawks, happy, some still wearing their goggles on their heads as if they’ve just returned from a sortie. The room is a happy mess, dominated by a table with the Blackhawk symbol on it. Blackhawk himself is holding up the bottle, smiling. The table is strewn with maps, coffee cups and engine parts, there’s a glamour gal pin-up tacked to the wall. The Blackhawks appear happy and vibrant, here. Zinda’s in her usual outfit, and she’s laughing along with the rest of them.

ZINDA CAP: We all knew none of us would live to DRINK it.


PANEL THREE: Closer-up on Zinda, happy to be part of this group.

ZINDA CAP: I loved those guys. You want to talk heroes...

ZINDA CAP: They’d sock a guy on the jaw if he needed it, then
they’d reach out a hand to help him up.








PANEL FOUR: Zinda, waking up in her modern day apartment, wearing a t-shirt and boxer shorts. She’s got a digital clock and a very modern fax machine by her bed. She doesn’t look happy.


ZINDA CAP: Through a freak set of circumstances nobody should
ever have to explain...It’s now more than half a century later, and I missed all the time in-between.

ZINDA CAP: My life missed its rhythm.

FX (phone): brrrrrrrring

PANEL FIVE: She picks up the cordless handset to her phone.

ZINDA CAP: Instead of the Andrew Sisters, my radio is playing
Outkast.

ZINDA CAP: The companies that made the planes that shot at us
now make cars and dvd players.

ZINDA: It’s your nickel.

TODD (off-panel, phone): Ms. Blake? Good news!

PANEL SIX: She’s got a happy look on her face.

TODD (off-panel, phone): I think I can get you in the AIR again.

PAGE FOUR:

PANEL ONE: The corporate offices of BLACKHAWK, INC. From the outside. This is as soulless a building as you can make it, just a ten-story, generic glass and steel building next to an aviation warehouse, and landing field. There is a sign, showing a modified and non-threatening version of the Blackhawk logo, with the words, “Fast, safe, dependable” underneath.

ZINDA CAP: Blackhawk, Inc. is now an international shipping concern. Technically, an eighth of it belongs to me.

ZINDA CAP: But I think I embarrass them, a little.

TODD (off-panel, from inside building): I had to convince the board...mind you, no one’s questioning your ABILITIES...


PANEL TWO: Todd and Zinda walk through the common room of the new company, and it deliberately resembles the one on Blackhawk Island, except that it’s extremely tidy. There’s a plaque saying, SAFETY IS NO ACCIDENT! and there’s a goth girl of maybe 18, sitting with her lunch at the table, oblivious, playing a Game Boy. Zinda is wearing her Lady Blackhawk outfit, complete with cap and skirt, but her jacket is a black bomber jacket, with the original Blackhawk emblem on the back.

ZINDA CAP: Except Todd. He’s just middle management, but I think he’s a bit of a fan. I know he means well.

ZINDA CAP: Todd, if you got me cleared for duty, I’ll KISS ya.

TODD: uh...

TODD: heh.


PANEL THREE: Zinda’s face (they’re now outside, on the landing field), she looks stunned and slightly unhappy. It’s windy, so her hair is being blown about some.

ZINDA: No.

ZINDA: You’re pulling my leg, right?


PANEL FOUR: They’re standing in front of a big tub of shipping plane, the least sexy-looking thing imaginable. It has the new modified Blackhawk logo on it.

ZINDA: Todd, this is BUNK. I can’t pilot this...this TUB.

ZINDA: I wanted the Citation X. I CERTIFIED for the Citation X!

TODD: Ms. Blake, please.

TODD: The board...


PANEL FIVE: Todd’s face, trying to look upbeat.

TODD: Listen, just...just co-pilot this rig for a couple years, and
maybe we can CONVINCE them...



PANEL SIX: Zinda turns towards him, furious.

ZINDA: CO-pilot?

ZINDA: Did you just say...

PAGE FIVE:

PANEL ONE: She looks resigned, like the anger has been beaten out of her.

ZINDA: Never mind. I understand.

ZINDA: Who wants boogie-woogie when you could have hip hop, right?

ZINDA CAP: See, I know it’s a good thing for the world, when the
warrior no longer has a purpose.


PANEL TWO: She walks off, hands in the pockets of her bomber jacket. Todd watches her, sadly.


ZINDA: You’ll have to excuse me, Todd. It’s been one lousy WEEK.

ZINDA CAP: But to be honest...

ZINDA CAP: ...it’s not too easy on the WARRIOR.

PANEL THREE: Back in the bar, as she’s emptied half the bottle. She’s pulling a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket.

ZINDA CAP: They only keep me around for my pr value.

ZINDA CAP: I’ve been there before.


PANEL FOUR: Flashback, to WWII times, where this semi-seedy, chain-smoking photographer is shaking Zinda’s hand.

ZINDA CAP: Right in the middle of our European campaign, some
quiz kid at the State Department gets the bright idea to take a photo
of me, ‘for the effort,’ he says.


PANEL FIVE: Zinda, posing in front of a fake sky backdrop in a dimly lit studio.

ZINDA CAP: I figured it’d be for recruiting WACs and WAVEs.

ZINDA CAP: So I played along.

PAGE SIX:

PANEL ONE: Big 2/3rds page panel of a military recruiting poster, of a Betty-Grable-style post featuring Lady Blackhawk, looking up to the sky, saluting, with a million dollar smile. She’s got one leg hitched up as though she were a cheerleader doing a high march in place. It’s very 40’s sexy, and idealized. Two grinning men appear in the lower corners, one in jerking his thumb towards her. They both look innocently horny.

The lettering above her head says: I LOVE A MAN IN A UNIFORM!

And the men are saying, in balloons: Oh, BOY!
And HOW!


PANEL TWO: The booth, with Zinda staring at the photo, when she hears a voice behind her. It’s Dinah, but we don’t see her yet.

BLACK CANARY: GREAT photo.

BLACK CANARY: Mind if I sit down?

PANEL THREE: Dinah scoots into the booth across from Zinda.

ZINDA: I was told applications for Naval Pilots nearly doubled.

DINAH: No DOUBT.

DINAH: My name’s Dinah, Ms. Blake. I have an offer for you.

PAGE SEVEN:

PANEL ONE: View from above, as Zinda and Dinah talk.

CAPTION: Soon...

ZINDA: But...why me? I mean, surely there are more qualified pilots...

DINAH: That’s not how we see it, Ms. Blake.

DINAH: We’re a non-profit, unauthorized group that’s willing to
risk our lives to do some good in the world.


PANEL TWO: Dinah smiles.

DINAH: Does that sound like anyone you know?

DINAH: Besides which, we know you can keep a secret.

ZINDA: “Loose lips sink ships.”

DINAH: We’re on the same wavelength, flyer.

PANEL THREE: Zinda, skeptical.

ZINDA: I won’t be told how to fly. That, you leave to me to do MY way. Is that clear?

ZINDA: What’s so funny?

PANEL FOUR: Dinah leaves a card on the table as she gets up to leave.

DINAH: Nothing...you just reminded me of my mo...

DINAH: Nothing. There’s a number on this card, Ms. Blake.

DINAH: You start your new assignment at 0600 hours.


PANEL FIVE: Zinda, walking into her apartment.

PANEL SIX: She pushes a button on her answering machine.

TODD (off-panel, elec): Ms. Blake, it’s Todd.

TODD (o/p, elec): I’m afraid some of the female employees have been...um...complaining about the shortness of your skirt...


PANEL SEVEN: Zinda’s looking at the card, which just has the green ORACLE design on it, and the start of a phone number (which is partially obscured by her thumb).



PAGE EIGHT:

PANEL ONE: Outside the new BLACKHAWK, INC. hangar, at night, under the light of only the full moon.

TODD: Ms. BLAKE! I can’t...I CANNOT let you do this!

ZINDA: Todd, Todd, listen--you’re a peach. Sincerely.

ZINDA: I don’t want you getting in trouble.

PANEL TWO: She turns, she’s smiling fiercely, and we see the fighter that’s still inside, as she holds up her twin .45 automatics.

ZINDA: Just tell them I pulled a GUN on you.

ZINDA: Or TWO.

TODD: Ms. BLAKE!



PANEL THREE: She’s climbing the stairs to the side door of a Cessna Citation X. http://citationx.cessna.com/

This is the sexiest single pilot plane in existence for what our purposes are, Joan.

TODD: Ms. BLAKE!

ZINDA: What IS it, Todd?


PANEL FOUR: He’s smiling up at her, saluting.

TODD: You’ll have to disconnect the transponder.

TODD: Or they’ll be able to track you--


PANEL FIVE: The Cessna in flight, with the full moon showing the original Blackhawk symbol.

TODD CAP: “--Lady Blackhawk.”