Anonymous Call



Scene Title Anonymous Call
Synopsis Sonny receives a call from an unknown caller.
Date Saturday, December 27

Upper West Side

Normally, Sonny sends his assistant Kelsey to fetch coffee. And she doesn't have far to go, given the fact that his swanky clinic has a fully stocked espresso bar. But coffee's not always about the caffeine. Sometimes it's about getting out for awhile and clearing one's head. That's what Dr. Bianco is doing now as he heads down the street towards a trendy, organic coffee bar that survives despite all of New York's devastation. They make a mean flax cake and a chai latte that his receptionist/barista can't quite seem to get right.

The young doctor pushes open the door to exit the coffee shop, burdened with his yuppie goodies. He pauses long enough to let a woman with a trendy, offroad-style baby carriage enter, then pauses to set his things down on the table so he can wrap his cashmere scarf tighter. Brr.

From high above, a scope is adjusted. The operator's black gloves adjusting the device in the dimly lit room. The window is the portal to the world. Though the only world that matters outside that window is one in particular. Sonny Bianco's. But unknown to the doctor, someone watches from a building across the street.

Sonny's phone rings.

At the same time, a large African American man is making his way towards the coffee shop. He seems rather upset, shouldering his way through whoever blocks his way on the sidewalk.
Sonny is on the clock. That means his phone is never ignored. He jostles his chai and his flax bar, then pulls out his Blackberry. "Hello?" He's oblivious to anything that may be happening other than his daily routine.

The phone is answered though nothing is said. Complete silence after Sonny answers.

The large man continues on his course, and apparently his course is right through Sonny. His shoulder flies at the other man's enough force to drive Sonny's armful of goodies either all over the good doctor or on the ground.

The man pauses after stepping by the man, raising up his arms he glares at Dr.Bianco. "What the hell man?" Comes the deep voice of the excessively big man. He looks rather angry as he stares at Sonny. "Watch where you're going! Shit."
A little bit of both. The chai tips a bit over Sonny's arm before hitting the ground and exploding the way paper cups do. Pretty soon the whole area smells like Indian spice and frost. He manages to keep hold of his blackberry, which he hits 'end' and slides back into his pocket in one smooth motion.
There is a brief moment as the doctor considers this situation. He's a born-and-bred New Yorker, so he's no stranger to irrational anger and blaming the other guy. "Relax, man. The Christmas rush is over." He bends down to pick up the dropped mug, frowns at it and then steps to toss the cup out.

A middle finger is the only thing Sonny will get as the man retreats. And turns around the corner, completely disappearing.

Sonny's phone rings again.

Sonny rolls his eyes once the man's back has turned. If he was a regular working stiff, the loss of the five buck fancy drink might irritate him more, but he's a fairly patient guy. There is however, a bit of annoyance as he pulls out his phone and hits the button, "Yes?"

"Hang up on me one more time, and you will be trying my patience." The voice is distorted. A product of a device designed to diguise voices. It sounds extremely deep and garbled. Other than the voice there is complete silence from the receiver, no background noise, nothing. "I would think it in your best interest, not to try my patience."
"Who is this?" Sonny's brows knit together. His jaw tenses. He distractedly rubs some of the chai off his jacket.

The distorted voice lets out three sharp noises that are most similar to a laugh. "That's a very intelligent question to ask, Doctor. Someone who calls with their voice disguised obviously wants you to know their identity. That's your first question. You get two more for the whole conversation, so make them count. Understand?"

Sonny rubs the bridge of his nose and moves out of the general flow of foot traffic. "Look. I know how this is supposed to go. This isn't the first time I've gotten an anonymous call. What do you want?"

"An appointment. For two." Comes the voice on the other end of the phone.

Three stories above, a scope is adjusted.

"Of course," Sonny mumbles. He paces a little in the alleyway, oblivious to anyone high above. He tosses up a hand and sighs. "All right. Where do you want me to go? But I warn you that they're expecting me back at work." He sounds a bit defeated. But it comes with the territory. When everybody and their mother knows what he can do, when he -advertises- what he can do, this sort of thing is bound to happen. Usually it takes the form of government agents putting pressure on him, but sometimes it's shadier. Like now. Though the last time it happened, the shady people went through his father.

"Not now, Doctor. At your workplace, you will go to the wash room. You will go to the third stall down. You will take the cap off the toilet where you will find a cell phone and charger in a plastic bag. You will keep this cell phone on and with you at all times. This phone will never be out of sight. Now I hope you are an intelligent man, Doctor Bianco. I don't want to have to show you why you should be listening to me. Understand?"

-Now- Sonny looks around, searching for someone who might have him in their sights from a high vantage point. It's not just because 'it's in the movies.' When your dad's a high ranking political figure, the security service teaches the family that sort of thing. The problem is, that little crash course was a few years ago, and he's never -actually- tried to spot a sniper before. He takes in a slow breath to calm himself. "I understand."

A few curtains are closed. One curtain flutters. Though no rifle is seen, no person standing in a window watching the young Doctor.

"Keep your eye on the road, Doctor. You might bump into someone else and get more coffee on your coat. It was a very nice coat." The voice says, even through the distortion a little mirth comes through the line. "I'm glad you understand. I expect you to drop everything. Anything and everything, give a very convincing lie and go to the location that will be texted to your phone. You will be compensated. If you do not show up." A pause. "I will be very upset. Do you realize yet that you don't want me upset?"

"Yes, -yes-. Honestly. You don't need to hammer the point home." Sonny tries to keep the irritation out of his voice. Except it's not really irritation. It's fear that comes out that way. "I know how to cooperate. You're not talking to a first-timer here." He looks down at the sleeve of his jacket, then around the street again. "I'm going back to my office now."

"Very good doctor. We will have a good relationship." The distorted voice says. "Just do what I say, don't go sniffing around, do your job, get compensated then leave. Everyone will be fine. It was good talking to you doctor. We'll stay in touch."


Sonny stares at the phone after the line goes dead. He knows better than to try and trace the number. If these guys are serious, then there's no point. He slips his phone away again, tightens his scarf, shoves his hands in his pockets and heads back to his office.
Once there, he tells Kelsey and his receptionist to reschedule all his appointments. Of course, given the high, high demand for his services, there are sounds of protest. It's a job to reschedule one, let alone three or four appointments. But from the way Dr. Bianco says it, they stop arguing fairly quickly. 'Something has come up' is good enough for his staff. Or rather, he pays them enough money for it to be enough.

That settled, he goes to the washroom, to the aforementioned toilet to retrieve the phone.

December 27th: Welcome Help
December 27th: How Many People You Got In There?
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