View the full graphic comic here.

PANEL 1:
A judge presides over a courtroom with a jury on one side and attendees on the other. Seated inside the witness podium, a woman is staring at a man. He asks, “...swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

A close up of her hands held together, the woman replies, “I do.”

Text reads: Ladies and Gentlemen, the story you are about to hear is true. I should know…I was there for all of it.  Right about now, you’re probably asking, “Who is she, anyway?” well…

PANEL 2:
Close up of the woman’s hat with a flower.

The man asks, “State your name for the record.” “Elizebeth Smith Friedman,” she replies.

Close up of Elizebeth Friedman’s face with text on the side that reads: The Cryptanalyst Who Brought Down the Mob.

PANEL 3:
Wearing a long collared coat, Friedman is seated. Her left hand resting on her right wrist, she looks calm as she gazes at the people gathered in the room. 

Text reads: Way back in 1933, I was the star witness in the attorney general’s case against the most notorious rum-runners in American history.

Among the gathered, two gangsters in pinstriped suits look on.

PANEL 4:
A group of gangsters in three-piece suits, some smoking, look troubled as one asks, “Who is this dame, anyways?” Friedman smiles slyly as she rests her chin in her right hand,

Text reads: The Consolidated Exporters Corporation. They were finally getting their day in court, and none of them were happy about me being there.

One gangster whispers to another, “This oughta be good.”

PANEL 5:
A close-up of a sconce light in the courtroom. Sitting in the witness podium, a man questions Friedman “What is your occupation?” “I am a cryptanalyst,” Friedman replies.

The man asks again, “And what are the duties of a cryptanalyst?” Friedman responds,  “Someone who analyzes and reads secret communications without knowledge of the system used.”

Text reads: I was there to explain how they’d gotten away with their operation - so far.

PANEL 6:
An opposing attorney questions the presiding judge in the courtroom, saying, “Objection, your honor. What makes this woman an expert?”

Text reads: But their attorneys were none too eager to hear what I had to say.

PANEL 7:
A close-up of  Friedman’s face and her eyes as she recalls their questioning, including, “What does she know about anything?” 

Text reads: Not the first time I’d heard that.

PANEL 8:
Friedman as a young girl with her short brunette hair with a university building in the background. 

Text reads: I was the youngest of nine, and my father expected me to marry early and have a large family. I went to college instead.

PANEL 9:
A man seated in an office at a long table covered with papers. Next to him, a woman leans on the desk while analyzing a report. Behind them are equations on a blackboard and another desk with papers on it.

Text reads: After graduation, I moved to Geneva, Illinois and took a job at a private think tank called Riverbank Laboratories. I worked closely with a man named William Friedman, looking for hidden meanings in the work of Shakespeare. You could say I found my calling at Riverbank…

PANEL 10:
A close-up of Elizebeth Friedman and William Friedman’s faces staring at each other with coy expressions.

Text reads: And my future husband.

PANEL 11:
Four planes are seen in mid-air from a window, below which hangs a partial U.S. flag.

Text reads: During the first World War, while at Riverbank, much to our disbelief, we were asked to decrypt messages for the U.S. military. Truth be told, this was as deep as on the job training gets.

Standing among a group of men seated in a room, Friedman touches her hair absentmindedly while concentrating on a notepad in her left hand. She analyzes the writings on the pad.

Text reads: We learned basic concepts of code-breaking—like a cipher vs a code and substitution vs transposition—and to stay one step ahead of the officers we trained. It was hard work, but our country needed us.

PANEL 12:
A glimpse of the obelisk shaped Washington monument is seen on the far side of a bridge. Friedman waves to ships below the bridge.

Text reads: After the war, we moved to Washington, D.C. One day the coast guard knocked on our door looking for my help with a pile of secret messages that they could not read.

PANEL 13:
A bunch of large wooden barrels. A man lifts one to transport.

Text reads: In 1920, Congress passed the Volstead Act, banning the sale and distribution of alcohol.

A Coast Guard officer stands over two handcuffed men on their knees, all of them on a ship’s deck surrounded by illegal barrels of alcohol. A man on a ladder tries to smuggled a barrel to someone out of the frame.

Text reads: The coast guard had to police thousands and thousands of miles of coastline, with only a small fleet of ships, to prevent illegal booze from entering the U.S.

PANEL 14: 
Night sky. A partial view of the moon is visible behind a translucent cloud. Holding a piece of chalk, Friedman analyzes an encrypted message on a chalkboard as three male colleagues look on.

Text reads: I led a counterintelligence unit to crack those messages. The first woman to head up such a unit, they called me the Cryptanalyst in charge. And while I was no teetotaler, I had a job to do…

PANEL 15:
Back in the courtroom, Friedman continues from the witness podium, “Your honor, my work  is not a matter of opinion. Few people understand the science of cryptology.” 

The judge glances at Friedman as she adds, “But feel free to have another expert look at these messages…if you can find one.”

Text reads: And apparently no one else was up to the task.

PANEL 16:
With a cup in her hand, Friedman looks down at a newspaper on the kitchen table. A close-up of a newspaper headline reads, “Woman stars in liquor trial.” Another headline reads, “ Pretty Woman who Protects the United States." Friedman tiredly shuts her eyes.

Text reads: Less than a week after my testimony, the jury convicted five of the accused. It was the hot topic of every paper around. And so was my appearance. I’d had just enough of the spotlight…

PANEL 17:
Text reads: But a year later, the convicts appealed…

Back in the courtroom, a defense attorney points his index finger at Friedman on the stand and says, “...Somebody had to tell you it was symbols about liquor transportation. Someone gave you this, didn’t they?”

Close-up of Friedman’s challenged hands.

Text reads: And I was right back where I started.

PANEL 18:
Friedman raises her right hand and says, “Your honor…”

Text reads: Only this time, I was ready to show, not tell.

PANEL 19:
Seated at the witness podium, Friedman turns to the judge and asks, “A chalkboard, please,”

PANEL 20:
Friedman writes a random series of letters and words on the chalkboard, and turns around to say, “I know, I know…it looks like Balderdash right now, but just you watch!”

Text reads: Nobody knew what cryptology was back then…

PANEL 21:
Friedman stands and faces the people gathered in the courtroom. She starts, “As you can see, it’s really quite simple to decode their messages…if you know what to look for.”

Gaping onlookers in the courtroom stare in awe at Friedman’s analysis.

PANEL 22:
Friedman walks out of the courtroom’s double-doors as the people seated all turn back to look at her.

Text reads: Between you and me, I’ll take “Special Agent” over “Star Witness” any day. When I left the courtroom that afternoon, the world knew more about Elizebeth Friedman than I ever intended.

PANEL 23:
Close-up of Friedman’s closed eyes is followed by a closeup headshot of her. Friedman is surrounded by symbols from various parts of her cryptography career, including letters, codes, a decoder box, camera and a ship.

Text reads: They didn’t know…My biggest challenge was yet to come.