August, 1998 - Varna, Bulgaria - Hillside Safe House
Reddington gaped slightly at the pair. He was practically fluent in French, and the term of endearment that passed the young woman's lips did not escape him. She had called Florian 'Dad', yet Reddington was quite certain the man did not have a daughter.
The old French mobster, with his rippling grey hair and towering build quite often terrorized average citizens and criminals alike. With Rosalie, however, he took on a persona more akin to a teddy bear. The little sprite of an innkeeper seemed to own him body and soul, even as he enveloped her in a massive hug that lifted her off her feet.
When she reached the ground again she looked sheepishly up at Red. "I'm terribly sorry, Raymond, where are my manners?" She reached forward, shaking his hand and brushing her cheek with his. "Welcome to Varna."
Reddington's bemused amusement was held in check as he looked meaningfully between the young woman and Florian.
"Rosalie was at one time my charge." Florian explained, "Now, she is family. I hope you do not mind my slight subterfuge in obtaining her location. As I'm sure you've found out, she's terribly elusive."
Red watched as Rosalie beamed cheekily up at the man, completely unphased by his declaration.
The young woman looked to the safe house, calling the property manager to request their guests' bags be taken inside. She turned back to Reddington, "Why don't I give you a quick tour?"
As their luggage was brought in, Rosalie lead Red and Dembe on a tour of the home and property grounds. Red was rather impressed, truth told. The house was a pleasant mixture of classic and rustic design, the natural materials giving the place a soothing, earthy feel. The plush seating and perfectly poised record player inside the lounge was beckoning to Red, while Dembe had eyes only for the lap pool glistening in the garden.
Rosalie smiled softly at Reddington as she opened the heavy wooden doors to the master suite.
Red found himself unconsciously mirroring that smile. The woman was in her element, vibrant and glowing as she guided him into the inviting space. The walls were the same pale stone as the rest of the house. The furniture was a rich mahogany that paired beautifully with the soft cream-colored linen. Reddington was surprised to see the bed was made with soft cotton blankets. The oxblood comforter was folded neatly at the foot of the bed.
Rosalie caught his puzzled look. "I'm sorry, I despise comforters. I tend to leave them off until I learn a guest's preferences. I can have it changed if you like?"
Red tilted his head curiously, "Not at all my dear, the bedding is perfectly fine."
The young woman nodded, turning to open the large french doors leading to the balcony. Her guest followed her onto the outdoor space, smiling pleasantly at the magnificent view.
He turned to look at the young innkeeper, his hazel eyes boring into hers. She was wearing a robin's egg blouse and a dark grey skirt that matched her eyes. The slate orbs held his gaze admirably.
"I unfortunately have business I need to attend to at the shipyard. The safe house is more than adequate, Rosalie. If you are amicable, I'd like you to begin planning for our next location."
The woman dimpled at him, obviously pleased that he wished to continue their arrangement. "Certainly, where are you off to next?"
"New York," he rumbled, placing his hands in his pockets. "I have an acquisition to secure from an art thief named 'Mugs' Kalinowski."
Rosalie tittered at the name. "Upper or Lower Manhattan?"
The man's head tilted back and forth, considering the option. "Lower. I prefer the wilds of SoHo and the Village over the fustian Upper West Side."
The woman's expression showed a flicker of surprise, but she nodded all the same. "The property will be ready in 24 hours."
Dembe walked silently into the suite, indicating it was time to meet their counterparts at the docks.
Rosalie considered this her cue to make her exit. She gave the brooding bodyguard a small smile as she left.
Raymond chuckled exasperatedly as Dembe's only response was to give the innkeeper a curt nod. Red donned his jacket and hat, then followed the young man out to the car.
"The safe house is a pleasant surprise," Dembe commented idly as they sped South toward the marina.
"It is…" Reddington agreed, "Any news on our little shadow?"
In order to test Rosalie's safe house network, Mr. Kaplan hired a notorious shutterbug aptly named The Seeker. The man's value was in his ability to find people that wish not to be found. Red had used him several times prior, and so had opted to leverage the man's considerable talents to verify Rosalie's network was, in fact, safe.
Raymond found Dembe's eyes crinkling in amusement in the rear-view mirror. "The tail knows you're near Varna, other than that, it has been a goose chase."
The pair chuckled at the thought as Dembe pulled the vehicle up to the shipyard. Howard and the seller's entourage waited patiently in the door of an abandoned warehouse, ready to do business.
Rosalie returned to the guest house, seeking out Florian.
She found the mobster happily exchanging stories with Cedric in the lounge, his voice ricocheting loudly off the stone walls. The man beamed at her when she entered.
The woman noted Cedric, exhausted, had propped his chin in his hand as he listened to the Frenchman bluster about a deal gone awry in Cairo. Taking pity on him, Rosalie patted his shoulder and suggested he get some rest before dinner.
Cedric eagerly took the opportunity to exit the conversation.
"And take a shower!" Rosalie called, feeling she needed to needle the young man once more.
Florian chuckled wryly at her suggestion, seeing a lone hand reaching back through the doorway with a crude gesture. She simply brushed off the retort and proceeded to make her and Florian a cup of tea.
"I didn't expect to see you today," she said honestly. Though she was always happy to see the man she considered a father, she needed to ensure he wouldn't be turning up at every new business dealing. It would undermine her status with her clients.
The mobster sensed her concerns regarding the unexpected appearance. "I needed to ensure you were alright, knowing your propensity for downplaying problems. I also needed to give you this." He pulled out a small black leather folio containing the candidates for her security detail.
Rosalie took the item gratefully, noting a few familiar faces as she flipped through its contents. Perhaps this wouldn't be as difficult as she thought.
"I took the liberty of choosing the head of your detail. I knew you wouldn't mind."
The woman's eyes snapped up to meet Florian's crystal blue orbs. Rosalie found that she did mind. She minded quite a lot, actually. Her head of security would end up being her right hand, her closest confidant. She couldn't believe Florian had just taken that decision from her.
Florian held up his hand, forcing the impending argument to die in the girl's throat. The hand then turned and beckoned to someone in the hall.
A tall, imposing figure with jet black hair and beetle-black eyes stepped into the room. His posture held a relaxed grace laced with an almost palpable aura of ferocity. A neatly trimmed black beard framed the clear olive skin of his face. The man's eyes crinkled in open amusement at his new charge.
The young woman's expression changed comically from blatant irritation to surprised recognition and finally, to unbridled delight.
"Horace" she breathed happily, leaping up and wrapping her arms around the massive man.
Florian chuckled at the pair, knowing he had chosen well. His Rosalie had become quite taken with Horace when she first entered Florian's world. The man had been her first guard, and the pair had quickly become close friends.
Horace was an exceptional bodyguard. He was cool, calculating, and absolutely lethal. As much as it pained Florian to part with him, he knew the man was ready to head his own team. Horace was well-educated, intuitive, and an excellent traveler. He would excel as Rosalie's right hand. The old mobster could sleep at night knowing the young man was looking out for his daughter. Especially now that she was in dealings with Reddington.
The woman in question was radiant as she scurried back to Florian. "Merci, merci, merci, mon Pére!" She sighed happily, hugging him and placing soft kisses to each of his cheeks. She understood it was no small inconvenience for the man to part with her new head of security. She appreciated the gesture immensely. As she looked back at her new counterpart, she knew no other man could have taken the position. It had always been meant for Horace.
Rosalie pulled up a seat for her friend and busied making him a cup of tea. She and Horace would have time to catch up and select the rest of her security detail later. Returning to the table, the woman sighed happily, "How was the flight?" she asked, her request directed at the younger man.
Horace smiled, responding in his smooth Egyptian accent, "It would have been better if somebody hadn't absconded with the jet."
Rosalie caught him smiling into his teacup. "Oh yes. How ever did you survive in first class on a pedestrian airline?" Her impish reply made the large man laugh merrily.
The woman looked to Florian again, getting straight to the point. "What is your opinion of Reddington?"
Florian's shoulders shrugged, "Être galant."
"You consider him a gentleman?" Rosalie asked, her eyebrows raised.
"As much as a criminal can be a gentleman, so he is. I have no objections to your working with the man."
Her eyes narrowed at his comment, "A criminal can be a gentleman, Pére. You're evidence of that." Horace silently nodded his agreement.
The old mobster chuckled and wrapped his arm affectionately around her slight frame. "Say that again, clearly into the microphone. I want to play it back to Marietta whenever she is livid."
Rosalie tittered at his joke, pinching his side playfully.
Her face turned serious once again. "If you agree that he is a good man, I must ask you to allow me to broker the deal with him as I see fit." The young woman knew Florian had been building up to the moment when he would ask her to allow him to broker the deal. She understood it was all in the name of her own protection. However, this would likely be the biggest deal of her career. She would not have anyone orchestrate it for her, even Florian.
Florian felt the weight of a heavy stone settle in his stomach. He looked at his young ward, his fille, the pride and joy he thought would never be his… He had known this day would come, when she would insist on fully and completely standing on her own. Florian just hadn't expected it so soon. His heart sagged with the empty-nest feeling only a parent could know, and yet, an even greater part of him burned with an agonizing pride. He had fought for her to have this future she so deeply desired. He had taught her everything he knew to ensure she would be safe and successful. This was her moment.
Florian's eyes shimmered with the unexpectedly powerful sense of fulfillment he felt as he sighed, "But of course, mon fille."
Reddington returned to the safe house a few hours later with Howard Hargrave safely in tow.
The two-story building tucked beautifully into the hillside was warm, luxurious, and perfectly unsuspecting. Raymond found himself thinking he could certainly get used to this.
It wasn't until dusk that they finally got another glimpse of the vivacious little inn keeper.
Upon entering the home's lavish lounge, Rosalie's eyes narrowed at Howard. "Aha!" she snapped, "So you're the one who ratted me out."
Howard roared with laughter, waving a hand apologetically at Rosalie. Her chastising look didn't budge one iota, only serving to make him chuckle even more.
Florian Armel gestured Reddington toward the veranda as Rosalie was introducing her new bodyguard, Horace, to Dembe and Howard.
Red had expected this discussion to arise. Rosalie was relatively new to the criminal game, and her connection with Florian ensured that the man would end up being the broker for their deal. Pouring a scotch and lighting his cigar, Raymond settled in for a long negotiation.
Imagine his surprise when the mobster simply sat beside him, enjoying his cigar.
"We never had children, Marietta and I. We felt our lifestyle was too much to thrust upon a babe. I can't tell you how much I regretted that in later years."
Red nodded his head in silent agreement, he had seen this coming. Like a father cleaning his shotgun on prom night, Florian was going to ensure the younger man had only pure intentions where his "daughter" was concerned.
The older man smiled fondly at the sea in the distance. "Then, a young, country-less spitfire came to me. The little fiend had outbid me on a property in Marseille, swept it right out from under me. When I had my men bring her to me so that I could convince her to part with it…she told me no, in no uncertain terms. However, she did generously offer to rent me the property whenever I had need of it. She had a business plan, you see. A network of safe houses and hideouts that could protect "criminals" who were in fact necessary to the function of our society."
Raymond found himself smiling at the girl's gumption. It was a wonder she had survived this long, with that kind of cheek.
Florian chuckled deeply at the memory. "I was so taken aback by her, her spirit, her ferocity. That merciless intellect paired with feminine vivacity. It was like the daughter I'd always hoped for simply appeared on my doorstep."
The cigar smoke unfurled around them in rippling curls as they heard the woman in question laughing gaily in the lounge.
"I brought her into the fold. I taught her to be like me. More than a criminal, an institution. We accepted her into our lives and she repaid Marietta and I with the love only a child could bring. I nicknamed her petit chat de'la réve, 'little hellcat' for her fiery temper. She calls me gros ours, 'big bear' for she would ride along with me when I had to terrorize a few people."
Reddington chuckled in spite of himself, halting when he turned to look at the man next to him.
Florian suddenly looked much older. His smile faltered minutely as he thought out his next statement.
"She has learned well, mon fille. So well, in fact, that I have reached the pinnacle of a parent's journey. Rosalie is at the threshold of her empire. She is ready to open the door to her future, away from my protection and guidance. It just so happens you and your organization are what lie behind that door."
Red was pleasantly surprised. This meant he and Rosalie would be finalizing the deal alone. It was uncommon for a newer player to broker their own deals. By removing the third party, Rosalie was indicating a certain level of trust in the transaction, and to a greater extent, Reddington himself.
The Frenchman heaved a great sigh as he finished his drink. "There are people with whom we build our empires. Those we love, those we esteem, and those we despise. I am leaving you with one of the people I love most in this world. I hope I do not live to regret it, Reddington."
The powerful old mobster stood, setting his glass back on the cart. His icy blue eyes seemed to bore holes into Raymond's soul as he held out a large hand.
The younger man took it, squeezing firmly and meeting the man's gaze. "I'll look out for her, Florian. I take care of my own."
A small smile flitted across Florian's face before he gave a curt nod and took his leave.