Civil War Prose Novel
Page 27
Steve frowned, then turned back to the hand-drawn flag. The upper left quarter was a solid block of blue. He placed the red chalk down on his bunk and picked up the white, juggled it lightly in his hand.
Tomorrow, he would start in on the stars.
THE Iron Man armor hung in the air like a scarecrow, spread out on tiny gravity nullifiers. Tony Stark peered at the chestplate, then frowned at the right-hand shoulder joint. “Controller test,” he said.
Both arms snapped upward instantly, in perfect formation.
Tony smiled. In the helmet, he caught a glimpse of his own reflection. The new Armani suit fit perfectly. The scars from his battle with Cap had nearly healed, with the help of some minor but expensive plastic surgery. He ran a finger along his upper lip; still slightly swollen, but the goatee had grown in to cover it.
“So. Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.?”
He turned, looking down one of the crisscrossing walkways dotting the interior of the Helicarrier. Miriam Sharpe, the woman who’d lost her son at Stamford, walked cautiously toward him, casting her eyes around at the buzz of technicians and repairmen working at consoles below. Maria Hill followed, her head lowered.
Tony smiled, held out a hand to Mrs. Sharpe.
“Why not? It makes perfect sense. I have close links to both the government and the superhuman community, and with Nick Fury gone…” Tony looked up brightly, turned to Hill. “Could we have a couple of coffees over here please, Deputy Director? Cream and plenty of sugar?”
Hill shot him a look that could ground planes. She turned and stalked away.
“I have something for you.” Tony rummaged in his jacket pocket, pulled out a small Iron Man figure. “Your son’s toy.”
Sharpe frowned. “I gave it to you.”
“And it helped me more than you can know. But I don’t need it anymore.”
Smiling shyly, she took the toy. Clutched it tight, like an old memory.
“’Scuse me, Director?”
Three S.H.I.E.L.D. agents moved toward them, carrying a huge metal plate and a canister of sealant. “Just repairing the last of the blast damage from…you know. Captain America’s little tantrum.” The agent nodded past Tony’s hovering armor, at the wall. A discolored, dented patch hung like a bruise.
Tony snapped his fingers, and the armor collapsed into his hands. He folded it quickly into his briefcase. “Let’s let the men work.”
He took Sharpe by the arm and led her down a small flight of steps.
“You won the war,” she said.
“Yes, and now we have to win the peace. I want everyone to understand, to get enthused about this new way of working.”
An elevator door opened. He ushered her inside and pressed a button. The elevator dropped, fast enough that his stomach lurched.
“Did you hear the state of Colorado just requested the Thunderbolts as their official team?”
She smiled. “I heard you have to fire a couple of the nutcases.”
“Nevertheless, it’s still a tremendous step. Giving offenders a second chance…it’s something I’ve always tried to do.”
The elevator door opened. A thin walkway led to a bank of windows, blazing bright in the midday sunlight.
“Do you know why we called our prison ‘Number 42’?” he asked.
“Nope.”
“Because it was number 42 of a hundred ideas Reed and I wrote down, the night your son was killed. A hundred ideas for a safer world, and we aren’t even at number fifty yet. Isn’t that exciting?”
At the end of the walkway, the chamber opened up into a multifaceted observation blister with a curved, transparent floor. They were on the bottom of the Helicarrier now; sunlight streamed in, reflected in all directions by the glass.
“Cleaning up S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Tony continued, “is idea number forty-three. Believe you me, ma’am, the super hero community just found the greatest friend it’ll ever have. Do you really think I’d let anyone else guard my friends’ secrets?”
Sharpe turned away. She looked down at the Iron Man toy in her hand.
“You’re a good man, Tony Stark.” A tear welled up in her eye. “You risked everything to give people heroes they could believe in, again.”
He smiled, felt a swell of pride. “I could never have done anything different.”
“I believe you. This is the beginning of something wonderful.”
Tony leaned on the railing, stared down through the glass at the city of New York. Laid out like a magical kingdom, ripe and full of promise. Sunlight glinted, clear and bright, off its proud spires.
No clouds today.
“The best is yet to come, sweetheart.” When he looked back up, there was steel in his eyes. “That’s a promise.”
THE END
A novel is not a graphic novel, and this particular, brilliant graphic novel required a lot of restructuring to work in prose form. My thanks to Marvel’s Ruwan Jayatilleke, Jeff Youngquist, and David Gabriel for trusting me to do justice to their most popular, most powerful story line of recent years. They gave me all the tools and then let me work, providing just the right amount of guidance whenever I needed it.
I had two editors on this project: Axel Alonso, editor in chief of Marvel, and Marie Javins, the book’s primary editor. Axel schooled me on the moral compass of the Punisher and suggested some excellent plot twists; Marie asked all the right questions, cleaned up my prose, and worked long hours polishing the manuscript. Together, they pushed me in all the right directions.
Tom Brevoort, editor of the original CIVIL WAR series, provided valuable input at the early stages. Tie-in stories by J. Michael Straczynski, Ron Garney, Dan Slott, and Stefano Caselli served as important source material for the novel. Steve McNiven’s artwork, on the main series, was both a constant inspiration and a source of frustration—it really does take a thousand words to capture a battle that he could show in one strong, powerful panel.
Mark Millar, an old friend and one of the smartest, most genuine guys in comics, encouraged me to take his story and make it my own. Hopefully I’ve done that without screwing up the structure, which was as airtight and breathtaking as any comics event in recent memory; or the powerful emotional core of the story.
For more Iron Man, Spider-Man and your favorite Marvel Heroes, check out these Marvel digital collections in the Barnes and Noble Nook store.
My wife, Liz Sonneborn, was unfailingly supportive as I took notes late into the night, pulled out my hair over minor plot points, and paced around the house muttering obscure questions like, “Is it too confusing to have two characters called Hawkeye in one book?” (Answer: Yes.)
Finally, I owe a huge debt to all the writers and artists who’ve contributed to the Marvel Universe over the years. CIVIL WAR couldn’t have existed, in any form, without their contributions. Hopefully, together, we’ve done them justice.
For more Iron Man, Spider-Man and your favorite Marvel Heroes, check out these Marvel digital collections in the Barnes and Noble Nook store.