Raymond Reddington never liked it when there were several intermediaries in the transfer of an important parcel, especially abroad, because each of them could turn out to be unreliable. Especially unfamiliar faces, of which there were two in this very transaction. And naturally, at one of the last stages of the contraband transfer of a small package with precious jewelry, historically valuable artifacts, the intermediary stopped contacting. Throwing everyone off balance, he found out who exactly did not ensure the transfer of the package on time, and therefore the charter plane crossed the border without valuable cargo.

"Hell of a thing.." He murmurs, studying the small dossier of the culprit, his gaze intent. Where did she even come from? Her features look deadly familiar.

It was surprisingly easy to find her, but she didn't have the package on her. Red even had the feeling that she had deliberately let herself be caught, it was too easy to track her down. Or maybe she just didn't have enough experience to steal other people's stuff.

In any case, she was now caught, tied up, and blindfolded, left sitting in a dark corner of a closet up some abandoned warehouse, waiting for him and a possible verdict.

── . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚. ──

The blindfold, torn off her face, falls to the concrete floor, raising a cloud of dust. The girl squeezes her eyes shut, the harsh light of the lamp hurt her eyes after a long time in the dark. When she finally dares to lift her gaze, he was standing in front of her- The 'Concierge of Crime' himself, illuminated by the uneven light of a single bulb up the ceiling.

"You know, in the 16th century," he suddenly begins, adjusting his hat before taking it off, "a gold cup was stolen at the court of Henry VIII. The thief turned out to be a young lady-in-waiting who just wanted the king to finally pay attention to her." A slight smile touched his lips. "History repeats itself, don't you think?"

She tries to move, but the ropes were painfully getting into her wrists. "I don't..."

"Hush, shh." He raises his hand, as if calming a frightened animal. "What led you to this... careless act, like stealing from me of all people?"

The young woman answers quite persistently, without looking away. "Quite simple. I need your help. However, it's not that easy to meet you. I'm looking for a man."

Grinning, Reddington raises an eyebrow in surprise. "Oh, now I see. You want to use my.. connections. But, dearest, they pay for my services. They pay a lot. Instead, you stole my property."

The girl, trying to seem more confident, straightens her back and almost interrupts him: "I'm the only one who knows where your precious package is right now. And I'll give it back if you agree to help me."

Sensing her piercing gaze, Red gets thoughtful. She doesn't look like an ordinary scammer, she is too straight, she holds herself too confidently, despite her obvious fear.

"Well.. Who are you looking for?" He asks in a lower voice, as if becoming more favorable.

Taking a deep breath, the culprit eloquently explains: "My father. I never knew him, but I have a lot of guesses on who he is. Mr. Reddington, with your vast connections, you can find anyone, I assume?"

Raymond froze. There's something elusive in her eyes, a hope... Something familiar in the corners of the mouth, in the shape of eyebrows… He suddenly feels a chill down his spine, getting stern once again.

"How touching. But I don't do family reunions."