"Well I hope you find him detective. Good luck."
Lizzie says before ending the call. Thirty-two years, she thought to herself sadly. Lizzie knew if she was in the privacy of her room, she would've let the burning behind her eyes take over but as she was walking down the grand staircase of the very crowded hotel and no doubt being watched, she knew she had to stay focused.
Exhaling and blinking quickly she began walking through the stunning hotel lobby. She had to admit, it was gorgeous. Lavish in its design, old world luxury, Uzbekistan history everywhere you looked. And money. Lots and lots of money.
Just the place Raymond Reddington would feel at home she thought. She was suppose to meet with him over an hour ago for dinner. As he, or rather Dembe had not phoned her, she was hoping her not so subtle hints were beginning to take effect.
As she approached one of the hotel's private restaurants, she heard music playing. Some sort of ukulele and accordion solo?
Stepping inside the smoky and dimly lit room, she immediately saw Red sitting alone at a table for two sipping on his after dinner glass of brandy. She didn't see Dembe but knew the man was somewhere close by.
Red noticed her right away and wave his hand for her to join him.
"Lizzie! You're late." Red said with a smile.
"Yes." Lizzie stated as she took the chair next to him. A dark haired waitress instantly came to the table.
Red began speaking what she guessed was Uzbek even though she didn't understand a word he was saying. The waitress smiled brightly and nodded before walking away.
Red once again turned to face her with a smile on his face. He looked her up and down before saying, "Lizzie you look lovely as always. The hairstyle and red lips are very becoming to you."
Lizzie gave him a nod and a polite smile but said nothing.
"You really missed an extraordinary meal Lizzie! The Chef here is one of the most famous in Uzbekistan. Makes the most incredible mutton and shurpa you've ever tasted! He would make a fortune if he were to move to the US." Red said. "Why didn't you join me?"
Lizzie wanted desperately to roll her eyes but instead she said, "I had dinner in my room. Let's talk about Ruslan."
Red cocked his head to one side. "What did you have? For dinner. What did you have?"
Lizzie frowned. "I don't know. Some sort of salad. I didn't care for it. Ruslan?"
"What was it called? What didn't you like about it? What was in it?" Red asked quickly.
"What? I don't know! Green onions, chili peppers I think, had parsley on top I thought but I think it was something else. I don't know. It doesn't matter." Lizzie said frustrated.
"Must have been Slotah Bukhori. Yes you wouldn't like that." Red stated. "And you're right, it wasn't parsley. It was cilantro. You don't like cilantro."
Lizzie sighed. "Right. Now about Ruslan? Have you spoken with him?"
Just then the waitress returned carrying a tray. She placed a small dessert plate and glass of brandy in front of Lizzie. Red smiled and spoke quickly to her before she nodded and walked away.
"Baklava Lizzie. Try it. The pastry chef here makes it in the tradition way except for mixing the honey with...are you ready?" Red said, smiling. "Pomegranate juice and orange flower water! Can you believe that?"
"Red! Ruslan." Lizzie said firmly. She was getting more and more frustrated. Another side stepping attempt and she was leaving.
"Lizzie relax. I told Ruslan the State Department was open to an investigation. He didn't seem to care for that though. He knows an investigation of that kind will take weeks if not months. I told him I would get back to him after I made a few calls." Red stated as he took a sip of his drink.
Lizzie's eyebrows rose.
"You told Ruslan the State Department was open to the idea of an inquiry?"
"You haven't touched your baklava."
The End!
A/N: Review :)
