Participants:
| Scene Title | Ransom Note |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Alister receives news of his pet ocelot. |
| Date | June 5, 2018 |
Staten Island Trade Commission
The note is assembled from newspaper and magazine clippings, a hodgepodge of letters, none of which is the same size, font, or color as any of the others. Alister can still smell the glue that binds them to the page, fresh enough that it's flexible under his hands, but not so fresh that it comes away sticky on the tips of his fingers.
It reads:
IF U WANT 2 SEE UR BABY CHEETOH ALIVE AGAIN MEET US @ THE OLD MEAT PACKING PLANT @ 8PM TMRW
BRING $10,000 IN UNMARKED CASH MONIES $$$
ALSO A CAR
"You spell cheetah with an a," is the only contribution Sibyl has to make from where she sits across from Alister at his penthouse dining table, small hands flat on its surface. She'd been the one to deliver the message, on behalf of a man she claimed flagged her down on her way home from the Rookery earlier that day. She watches the expression on Alister's face, anticipating a change by the time he reaches the end of the demands.
Alister tilts his head after finishing that.
He stares over at Sibyl, the note, Sibyl again, and then his eyes fall back onto the note. "So what they're saying is that I should have them all killed and then take my ocelot back. Maybe I will give them $10,000 in cash, and then blow them all up with a car bomb. Seems like it would be money well spent."
He sits the note down, after this brief consideration, then he finally gives Sibyl proper attention. "What would you do if you were me?" he asks, and it's hard to tell if he's genuinely asking her for advice or using this as a teaching moment. But Sibyl has had good ideas in the past. "Your ideas tend to be slightly less murderous."
"If someone took something that was important to me," says Sibyl, "I'd want to get it back, but I'd also want to make sure no one ever stole from me again." She continues to study Alister's face, his eyes, the tension in his mouth as though there was some sort of way to actually measure it.
"If you let them live, people will think you're either merciful, or you're weak." She curls her hands in on themselves on the table. "No matter how much money you have, I don't think you can afford that second one."
Alister suddenly smiles, his eyes shifting back down to the note. "You surprise me, Sibyl. But, well, there's always more to learn about each other."
"Car bomb it is." he decides, reaching into his pocket to pull out a cellphone. Calls are a pain in the ass, but, well. "I'll miss that $10,000, but maybe we'll get lucky and it'll get blown from the car by the blast." he considers, looking on the bright side. "Too bad I don't have an Evolved engineer on hand."
But, there's something bugging him. "Cash monies?" he asks, and then… "Cheetoh…" something that even Sibyl caught. "Before we resort to murder, are we sure that we aren't being ransomed by children? This all seems kind of…"
A hand is motioned through the air, trying to find the right words. "Cliche. The note, unmarked bills… do they really not know what an ocelot is?"
"What do you think?" he asks, again, because she seems to have insight.
"I think you're being fucked with," Sibyl answers.
And that is almost definitely true.
"They're insulting your intelligence with the note, baiting you. Bring a car, but don't blow it up. You'll need it to get away if you have to." She glances out the window to where a large white bird roosts on the ledge, idly preening a raised wing with the edge of its long, dagger-like beak. It looks like it might be a very large crow or a raven with all the darkness bled out of its feathers.
"I'd take Etienne and your best men as a show of force. Pretend I'm willing to negotiate, then destroy them — and their warehouse." Her gaze drifts back to Alister, more uneasy than the last time she'd sought out his eyes. "Whatever statement you make, it should be loud enough for the entire island to hear it."
"You're so young, and yet you're an incredibly wise advisor for something this mature." Alister doesn't correct her suggestions, but when he gets through to the people on the other side, he has a short discussion about how many men he needs, the numbers, who he needs, and the kinds of weapons.
The weapons happen to be explosives and automatic assault weapons, because fuck that.
And an Etienne.
Upon hanging up, he smiles. "I'll give you five-hundred dollars for this consultation. I think our meeting went well, and now I have plans for a good time."
Sibyl rises from her seat at the table, unfolding like a cat that's spent too long in one spot. Her legs have the urge to wander. "I'd like to come with you," she says, but does not give him much of an opportunity to protest before she clarifies: "So I can learn how I should handle my enemies."
The bird on the windowsill stirs.
"Sibyl…" Alister doesn't immediately decline, he takes a moment to think. "There are certain things that I'd rather not subject you to, but you've survived so long, it would be condescending to say that you haven't already seen more than someone your age should have to."
"If you're absolutely sure about this…" He doesn't seem eager to agree, but he nods his head once. "As long as you use whatever that ability of yours is. Stay out of trouble, follow me or Etienne's orders."
He offers a hand to her. "But are you sure?"
Sibyl reaches out and takes Alister's hand, the coolness of her long, slim fingers wrapping around his warmer, thicker ones. A thumbnail bites gently against his palm.
"There's nothing I want more."