The signing occurred on a pleasant Tuesday morning in a relatively empty conference room at DC Comics' New York office. There weren't any cameras, or photographers — just pens, contracts, and some sensation of history being rewritten.
Harry Jackson, once the estranged member of his father's empire, signed the final page of the acquisition documents and solidified a deal that two weeks ago the most optimistic analysts would likely have called impossible.
"Congratulations, Harry," Paul Levitz said, shaking Harry's hand across the table. Paul's tone was even, but there was a hint of esteem behind it. "DC Comics is officially the property of the Jackson Group of Companies."
Harry shook the hand even harder, and exhaled with a little smirk. "Don't worry Paul; we'll be doing something special here. I am not going to mess with your walls — I am going to build a new wing."
Levitz smiled a polite smile. "I just hope you don't blow the roof off."
The lawyers chuckled lightly. There were no flashes, but everyone knew - this was a tectonic shift.
Within hours the news was out. The Hollywood Reporter had it first:
"Jackson Multimedia Heir Acquires DC Comics – Shocks Industry"
By evening, the news had reached every publication, from Variety to The Wall Street Journal. Analysts called it "the boldest independent entertainment move since Spielberg started DreamWorks." Some called it reckless, and others called it world-changing.
But in the boardrooms of Hollywood, it rang alarm bells.
At Disney, Bob Iger's office was drafting an accelerated offer to acquire Marvel Entertainment. Marvel had suffered for years licensing its characters to keep afloat, and had been in quiet conversations with Disney and Warner Bros. Collection since Harry's play altered the game.
At Warner, the mood was comparatively less diplomatic.
"We were going to be building DC with him," one senior executive muttered at a meeting with a folder they slammed shut, "and now he's just walking away with it all."
Within 48 hours, Warner had doubled efforts to acquire Marvel outright, determined not to let Harry's new universe be the only one around.
At FunTime Pictures, Harry was in his office when James called, his tone sounding both proud and exhausted.
"The deal is filed now, Harry. It's done," James said.
"Good," Harry said, leaning back in his chair. "Then do the next one."
"The next one?"
"I need you to bridge between DC and Fox. Get them to put the cartoon deals together we discussed. Early mornings or weekend slots...whatever Fox can manage."
There was a pause. "Wait a minute, you want me to negotiate with Fox, DC's corporate, and the animation teams?"
Harry smiled. "Exactly. Congrats, James. You are the most overworked man in America."
James groaned. "You owe me a vacation. A long one."
"You can have a movie credit instead."
"Not the same, Harry," James said with a mutter, but Harry heard the smile behind it.
________
As the week drew to a close, Harry had little time to relish his triumph. Production on The Blind Man's Gambit had picked up steam, and casting had entered the first round.
In a small, bright audition studio in Los Angeles, Harry slouched on the edge of his chair beside Toni Howard and Gregory Lang. A dozen aspirants roved through the door — actors with résumés populated by commercials and short films.
They came to audition for supporting roles, not glamorous roles in the least but integral to the fabric of deception in the nature of the storytelling.
Harry, though, was not really seeing them.
The jet lag from flying back and forth between New York and L.A. clung to him. His head was swimming with numbers and deals regarding DC's forthcoming creative direction, and every time an actor read a line, he was transported to how he was going to launch Batman: The Animated Series 2.0 or which Fox slot would best suit Justice League.
"Next," Greg shouted, banishing the current actor from disrupting his thoughts.
Toni leaned closer and said quietly, "You're not even focusing."
Harry blinked, feeling caught off guard. "I am. He's... fine."
"You've said 'fine' seven times."
Greg glanced at him, offering an understanding half-smile. "What do you say, do you want to call it an evening? We've seen enough for now."
"No, no," Harry responded quickly, rubbing his face. "Let's finish the list."
But even he knew he wasn't absorbing anything. The words all morphed together, it all hummed, and every audition felt like it was a continuous loop he couldn't escape from.
Eventually, after fifteen reads, Toni closed his notebook with a light thump. "That's enough," he said firmly. "You are useless like this, kid. Go home, before you are rejecting people for breathing wrong."
Harry exhaled with a weak laugh. "You only say that because you want me to go home too."
Toni weakly smiled, "Partly. But mostly, you look like hell."
Greg nodded in agreement. "He is right, Harry. Casting is not a race, we will find the right people. You just signed one of the most lucrative contracts in the entertainment business - take a night off before your brain melts."