Camille Langlais (No. 191)

Timing: ~Q4 2026
Please see "No. 191" for all links in the series, "Discards" for more scenes, for a map, and No. 191 for timing information.
== Scene: Hints ==
An older man in a hat and a small, blond child in a puffy coat stroll hand in hand towards the terminal.
Red opens the door and steps back with a deep bow. «This way to your temporary palace, Princess Angelique.»
«Thank you, Mr. Red,» says the little blonde as she pads inside.
With a slight smile, Red straightens and falls into step.
«Have I been here before?»
«I expect you departed from Albany in New York. This equally charming village is Washington, D.C., capital of the backwater kingdom known as the United States of America.»
«Are there dragons here?»
«Only friendly little dragons, one of whom should be waiting for us.»
They round a corner and a dark-skinned woman with her hair in a hip-length braid leans against a wall, arms crossed over her chest, suitcase at her feet.
"Officer Darling, how /wonderful to see you again," Red calls.
She sneers. "It's 'Ms' now."
"Oh, what happened?"
[“A bunch of prodigies with robots nuked an alien dimension and finished off any reason for having an organized pseudo-military—it was kind of a big deal, you may remember it?" Without waiting for a reply—
"Apologies, Ms Darling. This is Angelique--"
Angelique curtsies. 
"--the charming recipient of our friend's--"
"Wei said, 'have stuff, go to the airport'. Nothing about listening to chatter. Do you want this damn thing or not?" 
"And deprive myself of your lovely company?"]
[Kirra starts getting confused and forgets what she's saying. Red insists Dembe drive her home.]
"What's wrong?» 
"Ms Darling gets sick sometimes.» 
Angelique accepts this. "Will she be okay?» 
«In a few hours, I'm sure (she will be).» 
«She’s sick from what?» 
«Do you remember the big robots from a few years back?» 
«I had a colouring book with robots.» 
«Well, she used to pilot one.» 
«She piloted which robot?» 
«I don't recall it ever getting past the design stage.» 
«The robot hurt her?»
«From what I heard, exactly. I didn’t hear much, though—» Grumbles. «They wouldn’t tell /anyone /anything.» 
Angelique nods absently, says, «She looks like Elanora.»
«Who's that, sweetheart?» 
«My sister!» Furrows her brow. «Well, she's not my /sister-sister, more like a sorta-sister?» Frowns. «A mostly-sister?»
«A half-sister, perhaps?»
«Yes!» Angelique bounces on her toes. «That's what the Aunties said! A /half-sister!»
«And she looks like Ms. Darling?»
«Mhmm! Except her hair is curly like mine but—» Waves wide arms. «—/huge!»
«Where's Elanora now?»
Angelique replies—shutters. «With a nice family.» Looks away «She doesn't—she isn't—» Huffs. «She looks like an 'outside' person, so Grandfather gave her away for her birthday. I don't think she piloted a robot, though.» 
«To be honest, my dear, I don't think you or any of your kin could be Rangers--" [Action break] «Maybe one of the sciences—how do you feel about monsters?"
Angelique makes a face. 
«Don't much like either?"
She shakes her head. 
«It’s not for everyone,» he agrees, then takes a hold of the suitcase. «Shall we see what Ms. Darling brought for you?»
«We shall!»]
Red leads them over to a bench, sets the case between, pops the latches.
Angelique quite nearly climbs inside, digs—«/Sunshiney Rainbow Friends!»—bursts into sparkles, hugging a coloring book to her chest. «I /love /Sunshiney Rainbow Friends!»
«With pallet-appropriate crayons, too.» Red pokes around the suitcase.
Angelique peers around at the front—«They're Sunshiney colors!»
«The Dragon thought to include an additional sixty-four, too.»
«Thank you!» Angelique takes the box. «I like this size better.» Wiggles to the floor. «The big-big box flops around lots.»
«Seems you two are already getting along.»
Angelique looks back up. «I think we're going to be great.»
Red smiles, pats her hair, then closes up the suitcase, leans back, and rests his eyes.
== Scene: Angelique ==
"We have a name!" calls Keen, shoving her things into the bag which she really should just leave packed.
Ressler gives her bag a dirty look. "Reddington just texted you?"
"Airfield, forty-five minutes."
Ressler scowls to his office for his kit. "We work /with him, not /for him!"
Keen rolls her eyes as he passes.
They spot the jet idling for takeoff on the tarmac and then, partly haloed against the light spilling from the open doors of nearby hangars, they see Reddington ... playing hopscotch ... with a tiny blond and teal ... thing.
"Our case is a kid?" calls Ressler, getting out of the car.
The kid's stock still on one foot, smile guarded.
"And a good day to you, too, Agents." Glances about—offers his hand to the kid. "Angelique, these are my friends, Lizzy and Don."
Keen crouches. "It's lovely to meet you."
Ressler grumbles something similar.
Angelique looks to Reddington.
"They're good peo—{well, }they're not bad—"
Ressler scowls.
Reddington huffs, tries again. "They won't talk to your grandfather."
Angelique brightens, curtsies, and hopscotches to Reddington.
Keen stands.
"Up you go." Scoops the kid into his arms.
Angelique tucks her head under Reddington's chin.
"Please tell me you're babysitting," says Ressler.
"In a matter of speaking." Peers down at Angelique. «Shall we embark?»
«We shall!»
"Come along, Agents." Reddington turns on his heel. "And keep your voices down; Dembe's sleeping off a very intense game of Go Fish—"
Ressler snorts.
"Don't laugh, Donald. Miss Angelique is /quite the card shark."
She peeks over Reddington's shoulder, chirps, "I won all Mr. Dembe's jelly beans!"
"You taught a kid to gamble."
"She had to learn sometime."
Keen picks up her bag, follows.
Ressler glowers, doesn't shtump after.
Dembe's wrapped up in a blanket at the back of the plane, windows on either side closed, sleep mask firmly in place.
"Where're we going?" Keen asks quietly.
"China," says Reddington, settling in his seat.
"Triad again?" sighs Ressler.
Red mostly agrees. "You could think of them as such. We'll be working with a specific branch—a twig, really—but one which is second to none when it comes to protection."
Keen, to Angelique, "For you?"
Angelique checks with Reddington.
"For you and your siblings." Reddington continues, "We'll see them soon."
Angelique beams. "We're collecting them, too."
"We'd better not be aiding a hostage-taking," says Ressler.
"If events unfold the way they should—"
"Which happens never."
"—and [they /will so] it won't be, thanks to the Dragon being as paranoid as anything."
"So is this political or ...?"
"Well—" Prompts Angelique, «Would you show them, please, sweetheart?»
== Scene: Langlais ==
Red follows the valet along the impeccably decorated hall to an equally immaculate office. And, in front of the window, gazing out—«Camille! It's been /ages!» Smiles winningly. «Mordashov sends his regrets. Family emergency.»
«Such things cannot be helped. I appreciate your willingness to step in on such short notice.» Langlais glides over, extends a hand.
Red accepts and they shake.
«I must admit I feared you were avoiding me, Raymond.» Langlais sits, offering a chair.
«/Never! You simply haven't had anything I or my clients have been interested in lately.»
«There is no accounting for taste, I suppose.»
«Or you've saturated the market for those red-headed manservants. [They must've] made you a /fortune.»
Langlais scoffs.
«Tell me about this latest offering of yours. Mordashov made it sound /truly special.»
«I certainly believe it is, but I will let you judge for yourself.» Stands. «After you.» Langlais inclines his head toward the door, which the valet opens with lowered eyes and perfect timing.
Red steps out, waits for Langlais to take the lead.
They round a corner and Langlais opens the door to a spacious room full of sunlight, greenery, and antique furniture.
A young, pretty Chinese woman in a crisp uniform and a small child—white, with blond curls, about five years old—sit at a low table, studiously coloring—they look up, the little girl flicking her eyes over Langlais, then Red, white wings folding tightly against her back and twitching in a draft.
«You may go, Violet,» he orders. «Angelique, come here.»
The woman squeezes the little girl's arm, stands, bows politely to Red and Langlais, and glides from the room.
Angelique sets down her crayon, gets to her feet, and carefully straightens her dress. Eyes down, she pads over to Langlais.
«This is Mr. Reddington.»
Angelique gives a perfect curtsy, says softly, «A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Reddington.»
Red crouches to her height—«The pleasure is all mine, Miss Angelique.»—takes her hand and kisses it.
She glows shyly, ducks her head.
«You are /exquisite.»
«Thank you, Mr. Reddington.»
«Turn around,» orders Langlais.
The little girl shuffles about, extends her wings slightly.
«Absolutely lovely.» Red peers closer. «Grafts?»
Langlais scoffs. «You know my business, Raymond. Her gifts are written in her genes.»
«Amazing.» Reaches—«May I?»
«Of course.»
Red gently runs his fingers along the leading edge of the wing.
Warm and soft; undeniably living tissue.
Angelique shivers.
Red withdraws his hand.
«Would you like to see more of her? Her musculature is fascinating.»
Angelique huddles more tightly around herself.
«I've seen enough.»
Langlais [acknowledges] sharply. «Go back to your book, Angelique.»
«Yes, Grandfather.» She spins, curtsies, and flees to the far side of the table.
Red watches her go, straightens, turns back to Langlais.
«Shall we discuss matters over drinks?»
Red inclines his head.
== Scene: Angels ==
Angelique frowns. «Grandfather said—»
«Grandfather said not to unless he tells you otherwise, and normally I would agree with him, but we don't want to scare Lizzy and Don in front of the Dragon.» Leans closer, whispers, «They'd be so /embarrassed.»
Ressler scoffs.
Angelique concedes, fights the zipper of her fluffy coat.
«You're very brave,» commends Reddington, kisses her curls.
She giggles, smooches Reddington's chin.
Reddington offers to help with the zipper. «You're just as brave as you are special.»
Angelique grumbles and twists.
Reddington eases the coat from her tiny shoulders.
Keen gapes.
Ressler blinks. Blinks again.
Wings.
The kid has wings sprouting from her back.
They flutter, feathers whispering.
"How ...?"
Angelique folds them tightly to herself.
"Beautiful, isn't she? A /perfect little girl with the wings of an owl. She and her siblings could be yours—" Smiles his not-smile. "—for the right price."
Ressler sets his teeth.
«I'm cold, Mr. Red.»
"'Right price'?" prompts Keen.
«Oh, I'm sorry, dearest. This silly plane seems stuck at 'absolutely frigid'.»
Angelique huffs, tugs her coat back into place, zips up to her chin.
Reddington slides the kid into her seat, buckles her in. "Angelique and her six siblings will be scattered to the winds when the sealed bids are opened."
"They're selling children."
"He's selling /angels." Smooths Angelique's hair. «Like you, sweetheart.»
== Scene: Products ==
Langlais indicates a settee.
Red sprawls. «I simply /must know how you've come by that little angel.»
Langlais possesses a chair, flicks a hand. «I had Angelique and six others produced in-house.»
«Seven? My goodness, you haven't been gallivanting across Europe with the whole flock, have you?»
«Of course not. Angelique has joined me on my recent travels as an 'artists' proof'. The others remain at their creche.»
«Which, judging by Miss Angelique's accent, is in the United States.»
Langlais sours. «Her vocal training has been lacking of late.»
«I'm sure she'll catch up soon enough.»
«They're all exceptionally bright,» Langlais grumbles.
«It must feel wonderful to be put your feet up after all of that rushing about.»
«The charms of travel are nothing compared to the comforts of home.»
«Especially one as comfortable as this.»
«Indeed.»
«Now, Camille, such masterpieces are hardly your style.» Accepts a glass of whisky from the valet. «I thought you were more of a big, burly soldier man.» Inclines his head toward the retreating valet. «Or a 'servants should be seen and not heard' man.»
Langlais snorts over his drink. «Soldiers remain my goal. These trinkets are a stepping stone—» Sips. «—as are the valets.»
«A way to raise some quick cash, too.»
«One can hardly call six years of development 'quick', Raymond.»
«A mere eyeblink in view of your long career.»
Langlais concedes with a shrug.
«This latest construction downturn must /really be biting your pocketbook for you to be rushing this sale through,» drawls Red.
«The coastal re-building efforts are lagging behind projections,» Langlais admits.
«Tell me. How'd you do it?»
Langlais waves negligently. «A byproduct of the technology I've shepherded along for decades.»
«Where'd you find the original to clone?»
«Angelique and her siblings are no mere clones of some /mutant,» Langlais sniffs. «They were crafted nearly gene-by-gene from a blend of human and avian DNA. The result is /perfection.» Smugs, «Mr. Mordashov will be pleased to know many of those genes are Russian.»
«Your copywriter deserves a raise.»
«You've seen her and know I speak the truth.»
«Their non-Russian genes?»
«/Tyto alba alba—barn owl—and an exceptional human source, exclusive to my firm.»
Red cocks his head. «They're all half-siblings?»
«All began with that same exceptional DNA template, which provides them with the proper temperament as well as appearance. The Russian genes are unique to each lot, making each of them truly one-of-a-kind.»
«Hmm.» Red swirls his drink. «You've sorted out the heart trouble?»
«Your information is out-of-date, Raymond. That was corrected more than a decade ago, along with the supposed issues in their immune systems.»
«And what about the psychopathy?»
Langlais' expression shrivels. «That problem has been isolated and removed.»
«And I'm just supposed to take your word for it? Oh, come now, Camille, you know people will ask. What am I supposed to say, that I didn't find out for myself if their new acquisition will strangle the family cat in the night?» Raises an eyebrow. «No one's forgotten that prize Sphynx. Daisy Mae, wasn't it?»
Langlais' face twists. «Fine. I'll have Angelique join us—»
«/I'll talk to Angelique alone—don't fuss, Camille, you come across like a child—I want to speak with /her and not just play audience for a display of your puppeteering.»
«Very well.» He sets down his drink, pushes to his feet, stalks—
The valet opens the door.
—steps—
«May I trouble you for some tea and cookies for myself and Angelique?»
Langlais twists around, his shoulders set in a steely line. «My man will bring them momentarily.»
«About him—» Red considers the valet. «I've been meaning to ask you, Camille, do you grow them to match the furniture or do you decorate around them?»
«A number of these pieces,» Langlais says tightly, «are heirlooms dating back to the eighteenth century. Surely you of all people, Raymond, would recognize that.»
«Hm.» Red sips. «The first one, then.»
Cut:
«Your manners as a host leave nothing to be desired, Camille.»
Langlais doesn't roll his eyes.
== Scene: Stolen ==
(Formerly "Frankenstein" but Ressler doesn't bring that up in this scene anymore) 
"If the kids are in the States why are we flying to China?"
"Because the kids /were on American soil. At this very moment, Langlais is having them moved to a safe house." Reddington materializes a stuffed lion from his coat, offers—
"Mr. Puff!" Angelique clutches the plushie to her chest.
—smiles. "Both that safe house and Angelique's new guardian are in the Celestial Empire."
"We know this because ...?"
"That guardian has closed off all Langlais' other routes of escape."
"We don't have jurisdiction in China," says Keen. "I don't even think we're /allowed in China."
"Ah, but the cherubs were born in the United States," says Reddington, "making them citizens of that great country, meaning their kidnapping is an FBI problem, which gives us a /perfect excuse for a trans-Pacific junket and for one of those last-moment dramatic rescues you government types just /love."
Ressler rolls his eyes.
"Red, how did you get Angelique out of France?"
"The way any good criminals would." Nudges Angelique's shoulder.
She giggles behind Mr. Puff.
"You bought her," sighs Ressler.
"Don't be /silly, Donald."
"We /stole me for the Dragon!" chirps Angelique.
"Wonderful. It's not a hostage situation; it's a kidnapping."
"Think of it as the removal of innocents from the custody of an abusive guardian. It may soothe your savage conscience."
"Do we have a plan for that removal?" asks Keen.
Ressler says, "If you just walked out of there with her, why do you even need a plan?"
"Because as much as I would absolutely love to keep you around, Miss Angelique, I'm not in any position to be fatherly to even one wonderful, charming child, let alone seven."
Angelique smiles back up at him.
"I can, however, ensure you eat all your vegetables, at least tonight."    
Angelique sighs spectacularly.
"Reddington. Do. we. have. a. plan?"
"Of course we do," says Reddington.
Angelique grins behinds Mr. Puff's mane. "Mr. Red says the Dragon has /everything."
"And we'll find out what it is when we meet them."
== Scene: Lulu ==
Footsteps pad from washroom tile onto plush carpet, and then an East Asian woman climbs into a slept-in bed.
A hazel eye slides open and the bedclothes grumble, 「I told you not to leave.」
(It's not an order. If it were, she would leave in a heartbeat.)
「But I did.」
The bedclothes glower and the hazel eye slides shut.
The woman rolls over and onto them, sits astride her companion, pushing them over onto their back.
Her companion sprawls accordingly.
「Are you going to punish me?」 Leans forward. 「Tie me up and keep me prisoner?」
Her companion considers, eyes still mostly closed, then they're rolling back over and tucking the woman under their chest. 「Sleep first.」
The woman giggles—
A ringtone plays.
The bedclothes whine, pull her closer.
The woman smiles, pats an arm. 「Lulu—」
「Don't go.」
(Not an order, just Lulu being grumpy.)
「I have to.」
「It's too early.」
「Lulu, I got a promotion, remember?」
The bedclothes do, though unhappily.
「Lulu, I have to go.」
The bedclothes make a mournful sound, slide their arm back under the covers.
「I love you.」
The bedclothes mumble.
The woman huffs a laugh, pushes herself out of bed.
A few minutes later, the woman returns in a crisp suit, kneels on her side of the bed, and smooths back a sheet and her companion's tousled hair, kisses them.
They hum.
The woman draws away.
Her companion's eyes flutter open.
「I love you.」
「Love you, too.」 Sighs wistfully. 「'look really nice.」
The woman ducks her head.
「Sure you have to go?」
「I'll try not to be back too late.」
Her companion smiles sleepily, kisses her palm.
The woman strokes their cheek. 「I really need to go.」
「Really?」
「Yea.」 The woman kisses her companion quickly, pushes herself to standing. 「I'll see you [tomorrow?]」
「Can't wait.」
「Neither can I,」 with a smile, and leaves.
== Scene: Tea Party ==
The door clicks shut behind Langlais and his red-haired pet.
«Finally!» Red sets his whisky on an end table. «Thought that old sourpuss would /never leave.»
«Grandfather wants us to feel safe and not to feel lonely,» says Angelique.
«In that case—» Red approaches a couple steps. «—would you mind if I joined you?»
«Of course not, Mr. Reddington.»
«Would you like me to join you?»
She nods, fluffs the pillow next to her.
«What about if I bring snacks?»
Angelique brightens—closes up just as quickly. «That would be very nice, Mr. Reddington.»
«Thank you, Miss Angelique.» Red folds himself down, lands a little heavier than he would prefer.
Angelique tidies her artwork.
«You can call me 'Red', if you like.»
«Yes, Mr. Red.»
Red sets aside his hat and coat. «Our treats should arrive shortly.»
Angelique nods, moves her coloring book and crayons out of the way.
A quiet knock and the door swings open for the valet, who approaches almost silently, perfectly arranged tea service in hand.
Red enunciates carefully, «Thank you, young man.»
The valet acknowledges, steps back, hands folded, tilts his head.
«This will do perfectly.»
The valet nods, melts away.
Red transfers the cups and plates from the tray to the tabletop, asks, «Do you take sugar, Miss Angelique?»
«One please, Mr. Red.»
Red adds sugar. «Cream?»
«No, thank you, Mr. Red.»
Red passes Angelique the finished cup.
She takes it with both hands. «Thank you, Mr. Red.»
«You are welcome, my lady.»
Angelique ducks her head.
Red prepares his own cup, takes a drink, nudges the cookies closer to Angelique.
«Thank you, Mr. Red.» Shifts one to her plate.
Red takes two of his own.
Angelique considers her saucer.
Red eats a cookie.
«Are you here to take me away, Mr. Red?»
«I'm here to get to know you better.»
Angelique's shoulders drop a smidgen but she nods. «You need to make sure I'm the one you want before you take me away.»
«Who wouldn't want you? You're incredibly sweet, wonderfully charming, not to mention completely adorable.»
«Grandfather said people are going to come.» Angelique's fingers twist. «They're going to take us away like they did with Ixie and Rora, except Grandfather said we're perfect and if we're perfect we won't be taken away but we are and we're—» She swallows. «We're not going to see each other again.»
«Your Grandfather sounds like he can be very scary.»
Angelique cradles her cup. «Grandfather is very important and so is his work.»
Red sips tea.
Angelique sips tea.
«What're you coloring?»
Angelique puts down her teacup, slides over her book.
«A dragon—and so tidy!» Returns the book. «Very impressive.»
«Thank you.»
«May I help? I can't promise I'll be much good.»
Angelique offers her box.
Red sets his cup down with a clink, considers the rainbow. «Do you have a favorite?»
«They're all nice.» Then, «I like purple best. Or orange.»
«Both can be quite expressive.» Finally picks a silver crayon. «It's because I'm old.»
«You're not that old, Mr. Red.»
«You're too kind, Miss Angelique.»
«Thank you, Mr. Red.» Selects a purple crayon, carefully sets it to the snake-like outline.
«Where should I put silver?»
«Wherever you like, Mr. Red.» Pauses, says slowly, «Maybe its hair?»
«Silver hair? Like mine?»
Angelique fights a smile.
Red shifts a bit so he's out of her way, starts coloring. «Mine's more gray. I /wish I had silver hair.» Muses, «Maybe when I'm older.»
«Yours is nice.»
«Not as nice as yours.»
«Thank you, Mr. Red.»
He stifles a sigh, works on another streamer.
Angelique swaps purple for orange, works on the tail.
«Do you like dragons?»
«Mmhmm.» Reconsiders. «Not the ones who eat people, though.»
«Very wise of you.»
Angelique colors, carefully minding the lines.
«Would you like another cookie? I know I would.»
«I'm fine, Mr. Red. Thank you.»
Red slides—frowns. «Just as well; it seems we're out.» Leans closer, whispers conspiratorially, «We passed a /lovely bakery in town. Let's pop down there and get some more.»
She frowns. «Grandfather says I'm not to leave the house without him.»
«We'll only be gone a few minutes.» Grins. «I even have my own car and driver.»
Angelique wavers.
«There's sure to be chocolate.»
Angelique wrinkles her nose. «I'm allergic.»
«I find chocolate overrated anyway.» Waves airily. «Now macarons, /there's a treat.»
«What's a macaron?»
«You've never had one?»
Angelique shakes her head.
Red clutches his heart. «My dear child, you've been /deprived of a little bit of heaven!»
Angelique giggles.
«Macarons are two pieces of the fluffiest meringue held together with a layer of buttercream.»
Angelique furrows her brow.
«Melt-in-your-mouth cookie sandwiches.»
«Hmm.» Angelique worries the hem of her dress. «May I have two?»
«We'll get a whole box so there's more for later.»
«Okay,» she says, «let's go get cookies!»
«Let's!»
== Scene: Emerge ==
A ringtone sounds.
The bedclothes curl in on themselves.
A distant ringtone sounds.
The bedclothes whine.
A distant chirp, 「「Lulu!」」
「「It's too early!」」
「「Lulu, breakfast'll get soggy!」」
An arm flops out, feels around, gets a handful of fabric from the floor, retreats back under the covers.
「「/Lu-/lu!」」
「「'm coming!」」 grumble the bedclothes, and Lulu, more or less in a dressing gown, oozes from the other side of the bed and onto the floor, then shuffles from the room and down the hall.
A toe across the threshold and—
「「Good morning, Lulu!」」
—the curtains are drawing themselves, the house's interface is scrawling across the glass, soft lights flicker to life above the counter, the rice cooker lid pops open, and tea begins to steep.
Lulu glowers at the dark window, croaks, 「Good morning, Daisy.」
「「Shall I display your schedule?」」
「No. Thank you.」 Drops into a chair.
[「「You have a priority-one meeting tonight!」」]
「I'm not awake yet, Daisy.」
「「Sorry, Lulu.」」
「S'okay.」
The kitchen burbles along.
Lulu stares blankly across the table.
At a softer volume, 「「Lulu?」」
A grunt.
「「Tea's ready.」」
「Thank you.」 Lulu unfolds, shuffles to the counter, sets to making tea.
「「Anything I can do for you?」」
「Still not awake.」 Cradles a teacup, shuffles to a window, leans against the glass, watches the stars twinkle.
「「You'll let me know?」」
「I'll let you know when I wake up.」
「「Thank you, Lulu!」」
Mumbles, 「You're welcome.」 Sips tea.
== Scene: Princess==
Angelique, thoroughly sticky with buttercream, coos around her second macaron, flutter-kicking her feet under the café table.
«Are they as good as I promised?»
She nods enthusiastically.
«If you have room for a third, I have a surprise for you.»
Angelique attends.
Red puts a macaron-shaped package on a saucer and nudges it closer. «I have a very special cookie-and-frosting sandwich for a very special princess.» He unwraps one in orange with sprinkles in the shape of a crown.
Angelique squees.
Red slides the saucer onto her placemat.
Angelique sparkles.
«Now, beside knowing about the wonderfulness of macarons, I /happen to know a dragon."
«Really?"
Red nods. «I really do." Adjusts his plate. «They can be quite grumpy, and they can be an absolute /brat, but they treat their people /very well, including their collection of princesses and princes.»
Angelique studies the sprinkles. «Where does the dragon get them?»
«They steal them, mostly from scary wizards, and [then] they bring them to live in their castle and ensure they're warm and safe and never want for anything.»
Angelique chews thoughtfully, swallows. «Would this dragon like to steal all of us?»
«Princes and princesses as [wonderful] as you? Most definitely.»
Wipes her hands with a napkin. «I want us to stay together.»
«Of course,» Red says gently.
Angelique scrubs at a stubborn bit of icing.
«I can introduce you to the dragon.»
«You're /sure they won't eat us, Mr. Red?»
«Cross my heart.»
«When?»
«Right now.» Red offers his hand.
Angelique sets down her napkin, puts her hand in his.
== Scene: Big People Talk ==
Angelique yawns into Mr. Puff's mane.
"Are you sleepy?"
She nods, yawns again.
"There's a couch, blankets, and pillows across from Dembe. Why don't you lie down and take a nap?"
"Thank you, Mr. Red."
"You're welcome, sweetheart."
Angelique smiles, undoes her seatbelt, wiggles down, and shuffles off.
Reddington peers over the back of his seat—
Angelique's snuggled up safely on the sofa with her lion.
—twists back. "Now, we can have our big people talk."
Ressler sighs; Keen leans forward.
"Our Blacklister /du jour is Camille Langlais—" Crosses his legs. "—a former diplomat with a love of money, rules, France, high culture, and proper breeding—not necessarily in that order, of course."
Ressler snorts.
"How do little girls with wings fit in?"
"Patience, Lizzy. The cherubs—or are they owlets?—" Shakes his head clear. "—are trinkets—his word, by the way—Langlais whipped up to raise quick cash and recruit investors for his long-term projects, including his personal favorite: genetically-modified soldiers."
"He sounds like a comic book supervillain."
Reddington raises an eyebrow. "Any more so than some of our previous, presumably non-super, villains?"
Ressler grudgingly concedes.
"I won't bore you with the details, but Langlais has used part of a substantial fortune to build and hide a network of research facilities across the world." Reclines his seat. "His greatest coup came about forty years ago when he recruited a brilliant and com/pletely amoral young scientist with some wild ideas about genetics. He gave her a lab, assistants, and unlimited funds and in four years, she produced her first clone and first angel." Shrugs. "Or so the legend goes."
"Forty years ... that's the eighties." Ressler blinks. "You're telling us Langlais' people were cloning humans in the eighties?"
"A full decade before Dolly the sheep made her debut, yes."
"How-how did he keep this quiet?"
"Money, mostly, and choosing his employees very, very carefully." Shrugs. "A willingness to kill anyone who stepped out of line certainly doesn't hurt."
"This's all very /Frankenstein."
"I'm impressed, Agent Ressler. You've read something other than a government report."
Ressler does not make an obscene gesture.
"You comparison is apt, however. [Those first attempts were apparently as fragile as anything so cobbled together might be—hollow] bones, defective hearts, autoimmune problems, never /mind the occasional psychopath—but, as Angelique so ably demonstrates, that's all sorted now. She and her six siblings are perfectly healthy and as typical as can be."
"Aside from the wings."
Reddington rolls his eyes. "Yes, Donald, except for the wings."
"So he, what, grows them in vats?"
"Now who's talking about supervillains?" Reddington drawls. "It's much more low-tech than that. Langlais controls a number of clinics which, operating in conjunction with shell adoption agencies, recruit young women to act as surrogates for non-existent infertile couples. A little embryo transfer, nine months, and a handsome cash payment later, Langlais has a 'product' to sell."
"What happens to the women?"
"They go on about their lives, blissfully unaware the fruits of their wombs are not living happily with loving families."
Ressler shifts uncomfortably. "What about hers?"
"I'm sure the answer is in his files, which you will recover along with the rest of the brood."
"Should we be concerned about Langlais coming after us between now and then?" asks Keen.
"Probably not. Langlais can't accuse me outright or he risks his spotless reputation for discretion by admitting someone put one over on him—even if that someone was /me. He's probably also been rather busy trying to close the child-sized hole in his security I so rudely exposed."
"He can't have taken that very well."
"Oh, I imagine he didn't."
== Scene: Gone ==
A knock at the office door interrupts Camille's paperwork. He makes a sharp gesture.
Quiet footsteps.
Camille sighs at the disappointing figures and looks up. «What?»
«Angelique is missing, sir,» says Violet.
Behind her, Russell controls a cringe.
Stands, presses hands flat on the desk. «/What.»
«I checked the solarium and her rooms, sir, and Angelique is gone.»
«Reddington?»
«The client, sir?»
«Who else,» snaps Camille.
«I don't—» Violet looks to Russell. «Do you know where the client is?»
:‹Gone, sir. As are his driver and car, sir.›:
Grits out, «Since when?»
:‹I'm sorry, sir. What—›:
«When did Reddington leave!»
Violet jumps.
Russell flinches. :‹Security is reviewing, sir.›:
«Violet, you are dismissed. /Permanently. Pack your things and go.»
[Violet's cheek twitches. «Yes, sir.»]
Camille sniffs, seizes his mobile, stomps across the room, shoves Russell out of the way—
The valet squawks as he falls (scold him later).
—storms to the security office, slams open the door.
Behind the monitors, Martin jumps.
«When did Reddington's car leave?»
«A-about thirty minutes ago, sir.»
«Why wasn't I informed?» demands Camille.
«He told Dubois he'd finished his business with you and was leaving for town.»
«What about the girl?»
«What girl, sir? There was no girl. Only Reddington and his driver.»
«Show me.»
Martin rolls back the CCTV footage.
There's Reddington's burly African associate holding the car door and the man himself nattering into his mobile and crossing the space between villa and vehicle, his long coat—
A coat /more than roomy enough to smuggle a child past the cameras.
«That son of a /bitch!»
== Scene: Prepared ==
Red gets Angelique settled on the plane, then asks, «Will you mind, Miss Angelique, if I make a call?»
She shakes her head, presses her face to the glass to watch the ground crew scurrying about making the plane ready for departure.
He steps a few paces away, digs out his cellphone, makes a connection.
""Raymond Reddington, who just referred to me as a brat, calling from France, about to leave for Washington, District of Columbia.""
"I was merely referring to your charming inability to let anyone else have the first word."
""Of course you were.""
Red sighs heavily, rolling his eyes, continues, "I have a young lady—"
""In need of somewhere warm and safe and loving and far away from mad scientists—no, how did you put it ...? 'Scary wizards', that was it.""
"Along with—"
""Six siblings.""
"—in—"
""Albany, until they leave for Hong Kong in about two hours.""
"You don't have it figured to the minute?"
""Some of Mr. Langlais' allies are not the most punctual about answering their mobiles.""
Red huffs a laugh, then, "Hong Kong isn't one of his normal playgrounds. You're sure about that?"
""He'll have nowhere else to go.""
Red gets /that mental chafing feeling, says cheerfully, "I do find it so very /irritating being someone's plaything without my knowledge."
""An opinion held by many.""
Red forces himself to shrug off his annoyance—it won't do any good, not against a Dragon. "How long have you been planning this?"
""Longer than you.""
"Obviously; my plan's barely three hours old. Why /ever do I bother talking with you?"
A chuckle, then, ""I'll have some supplies waiting for you with an associate at your next port of call and will see you and Miss Angelique at Middle Earth.""
"We'll talk tomorrow, then."
""Possibly.""
A chime.
Red huffs, turns back to Angelique. «Don't try talking to dragons; it's not worth it.»
She queries, frowning.
«Let me rephrase: Never try to make a deal with a dragon, human or otherwise.»
Angelique nods slowly.
«Macaron?» Red offers the package.
She brightens.
== Scene: High Dragon ==
Lulu yawns hugely, sighs, then asks, 「Daisy?」 
「「Yes, Lulu?」」
Lulu pushes from the table. 「Please play recording GGD twenty-twenty-six twelve three and skip to the phone call.」 
「「You got it!」」 
The window shimmers, resolves into the view of a drawing room from an upper corner.
The secretary reports, 「「A request for aid from Ambassador Camille Langlais.」」 
Great Grandmother leans back, muses, 「「Ambassador Langlais.」」 
「「Yes, ma'am.」」 
「「I would call him.」」
「「Of course, ma'am.」」 The secretary steps aside Great Grandmother's aide, bearing a mobile on a tray. 
「「You may go.」」 Great Grandmother picks it up. 
The secretary bows deeply, leaves. 
The line connects. 
""Ambassador."" 
Her aide takes up position at a respectful distance. 
""I see. My people will have the space prepared for your charges by the time they arrive in Hong Kong.""
The High Dragon listens.
Lulu leans against the counter, chin-hands.
""It is no trouble for me. Please convey my best regards to your wife. Good day.""
The High Dragon disconnects the mobile—
Her aide steps forward with the tray.
—and sets it down with nary a look nor a clink. 
Her aide steps back.
「「Inform my great-grandchild of this development when you next speak.」」
Lulu smiles.
Her aide swallows. 「「Of course, ma'am.」」
「「I expect an update with breakfast.」」
Lulu pushes off, shtumps for the kettle. 
「「Of course, ma'am.」」 Her aide bows deeply.
「「That will be all.」」 She crosses her ankles. 「「You may go.」」
Her aide bows deeply. 「「Thank you, ma'am.」」 Leaves quickly.
「Stop the playback and show metadata, please.」 Lulu sips tea. 
「「Tada!」」
Date: 2026 December 3
Location: [blocked]
[ID]: Wizard and Royalty in the tower.
「「Please note you have a quality check scheduled in two hours.」」
Lulu acknowledges around the cup. 
[blocked]: Did great grandmother specify the kind of update?
[ID]: No.
[blocked]: Please tell her that I can't do anything about the new iOS because she's more or less human.
[blocked]: My heart is safe and doing well--she got a raise the other day!--and the bean would rather go to school at the compound than here.
[ID]: Thank you; be well
[blocked]: Same to you and to great grandmother''
Lulu drums a short-lived but complicated pattern on the cup, says, 「Please display the rest of the related media for 'Red Wing Wednesday' and highlight our position on the timeline.」
「「Coming up!」」
The video retreats to a corner of the window as clusters of photos (of Langlais, of Reddington's FBI agents, a few of Red and Angelique with a tiny 'new' in their corners), bloom across screen around a combination timeline/four-column timetable; two cells in particular of the second column bright compared to the others. 
「「I've also indicated the quality check you have scheduled today!」」
Lulu smiles fondly into the tea, then, 「Thank you, Daisy.」
「「You're welcome!」」
Sighs, 「Guess I should get ready for that.」
「「Current traffic conditions estimate twenty minutes of travel, so you have time to wash your hair!」」
Dryly, 「You're a dear, Daisy.」
「「You're welcome! 」」
== Scene: Pink ==
Keen eases from the washroom—
"There's a change of clothes for you in the rear closet," says Reddington.
Ressler ... "Come again?" Stands, moves aside.
"Change of clothes—" Tilts his head. "—back there."
"Right."
"Thanks," mumbles Keen.
"'welcome." Stumbles to the back, fumbles open the compartment, manages not to smack himself in the face with the garment bag, shuffles to the washroom.
.
"It's pink!" he snaps.
"Keep your voice down, Donald," scolds Reddington.
Ressler rolls his eyes, hisses, "This tie is /pink!"
"It's Wednesday," Keen says softly, straightening a light pink dress shirt.
"Exactly," says Reddington. "And your tie isn't pink: it's red because I thought you would prefer it."
== Scene: Middle Earth ==
Reddington, Keen, Angelique, and Ressler (Dembe's staying with the car) cross a parking lot in Middle Of Nowhere, China, and enter an old, but well-kept, roadside restaurant.
Inside, the place is comfortable ... almost home-y.
A large someone in a far booth hunches behind a newspaper, shoulders sloped; a pair of young people sit in a closer booth; an elderly woman tidies a table.
Reddington strides forward. "I had thought, you gorgeous person you, that you would follow the conventional wisdom whereby a beautiful person surrounds themselves with less beautiful people to make themselves look better, but yet here you are with two gorgeous retainers and looking all the more beautiful for it."
The old woman blushes and scoffs.
"I'm serious, Dragon, she—" Nods to a woman with her head shaved. "'s beautiful, she—" Nods to a woman with twinkling eyes. "'s stunning—"
A third person crawls from under a table, wearing a dusty, black hoodie and a cat scratch across one cheek.
"They're ...." Reddington cocks his head. "Well, then there's that guy. Don't know what to make of that guy."
Cat Scratch huffs a chuckle, hop-skips to the kitchen.
Reddington takes the old woman's hands. "And you, my dear, look as radiant as always." Kisses her cheek.
The old woman swats at him, says, "The Dragon's sitting back there."
"My apologies, miss, I can't tell one pretty face from another."
The old woman waves away his apology as she leads them to the table and whispers loudly to the young woman with twinkling eyes, "Keep this one around—I like him."
She smiles a laugh.
The old woman squeezes her shoulder, says, "I'll be back in a moment with tea," and excuses herself with a wink.
Reddington smiles and tips an imaginary hat, then says to the young woman, "How shall I address you?"
"'Long' will serve."
"A Dragon named 'Dragon'."
"What name would be more majestic? Or fitting?"
Reddington concedes, then says, "It is an honor to be in your presence, Long," bowing deeply.
Keen and Ressler follow suit.
Long tilts her head, gestures to her right, "This is Daiyu—"
The gorgeous retainer regally inclines her shaved head.
"—and you saw Ling Feng a moment ago."
"With the feline battle scars?"
"That would be him." Sits back a little. "I believe you have a matter you wished to discuss?"
"I do," says Reddington, "and the matter is a special young lady named Angelique who is—" Glances—finds Angelique, smiles as warmly as he can, draws her forward. "—right here."
Angelique curtsies.
Long sits forward, beaming. "Aren't you just adorable?"
Angelique ducks her head, curtsies again.
'That guy'—Ling Feng—slinks from the kitchen—freezes, stares at Ressler.
Ressler does not sigh.
"Oh, how rude of me! These are my associates Keen and Be-/Ressler."
Ling swallows hard.
"No relation," Ressler grumbles.
Reddington snickers. "But resemblance is uncanny, isn't it?"
Ling nods slowly, toys with the hem of his hoodie, which has one of those giant robots outlined in gold across the front.
Of course.
"Ling, this little beauty is Angelique," says Long.
Ling bows—
"Mew!" squawks the kitten that tumbles out of his hood.
—flails after it, gets his feet tangled, and face-plants.
"Kitty!" squeals Angelique, diving—checks with Reddington.
"Of course."
She zips over, scoops up the kitten, presses it to her face.
"Mew!"
"Why don't you three get to know each other better in the banquet room?" suggests Long.
Ling sorts himself out, manages to steer Angelique and kitten to the back without incident.
Long offers the other side of the booth and they accept.
The old woman bustles over with a tray of teacups and two teapots, sets them out, says something in what Ressler's pretty sure is Cantonese.
Long replies in kind and the old woman retreats to the kitchen.
"Right to business, then," says Reddington. "Where's Langlais hiding the kids?"
"The Tonbridge Building, Tai Kok Tsui."
Reddington gets that glint in his eye. "Isn't that property owned by your family?"
"By my great-grandmother." Long offers tea.
'No, thank yous' around the table.
Long pours tea. "The responsibility to maintain the health of our clan's gene pool is hers—" Replaces the teapot with nary a clink. "—as it was her father's, her grandfathers's—" Waves, 'and so on'. "And since we date back to the eight-hundreds, one can imagine determining who should marry whom had become something of a science, which is probably why Langlais extended an offer of partnership."
"Guessing it didn't happen," says Keen.
"He called her—" Long wrinkles her nose. "—'archaic'." Sits closer to her cup. "I would have had him killed on the spot, personally, but Great-Grandmother also has patience down to a science."
"I would say she has mastered it as an art form," says Reddington.
Long concedes.
"So she's selling him out to law enforcement as revenge?" asks Ressler.
"Langlais may play a long game, but Great-Grandmother plays a longer one."
Reddington snorts. "Which is why I do my best to stay on the Dragon's good side."
A crash, a yelp, and frantic scuffling from the back.
Daiyu rolls her eyes fantastically.
"How /does Mr. Ling stay on your good side, though?"
The old woman hustles from the kitchen, scolding enthusiastically.
"He has his uses." Long almost smiles. "Mostly related to herding cats."
"He seems to be doing a bang-up job of it," grumbles Ressler.
== Scene: Kitten ==
The old lady bursts through the door, grabs Just Feng's hood, and pulls him to his feet—knocking over /more trays—chewing him out in a sing-song language.
Angelique crawls under a table, peers about. "Here, kitty-kitty-kitty~!"
Just Feng trips over his words.
""Meeew,"" calls Kitty from somewhere to her left.
"Kitty?"
""Meeew?""
Angelique crawls closer. "Kiiiiiitty~."
""Meeew.""
Old Lady and Just Feng make cleaning-up noises.
"There you are, Kitty."
Kitty peeks out from under an upside-down chair.
Angelique lies down on her tummy, smiles at Kitty.
"Meeew."
"Hello, Kitty. Would you like to come out of there?"
"Mew."
"Just Feng has food and toys for you~."
"Mew."
Angelique chews her lip. "I won't let Just Feng touch anything noisy?"
"Meeew?"
"Promise."
"Mew." Kitty wiggles out from under the chair, tippy-toes to Angelique, rubs against her cheek.
She giggles, pets Kitty's head.
Kitty purrs.
""Did you find him?"" says Just Feng.
"Uh huh! We'll be right there." Angelique gathers Kitty in her arms—still purring!!!—and shuffles out on her knees.
Just Feng beams at them.
Angelique gives Just Feng a serious look. "I promised Kitty you wouldn't touch anything noisy."
Just Feng nods seriously, stuffs his hands in his pockets, sits down in the middle of the floor.
Angelique approves.
"So ... what's his name?" asks Just Feng.
"He doesn't have one?"
"Not yet~."
Angelique scrunches her face in concentration, ponders Kitty.
Kitty winks at her.
"'Macaron'," she declares.
"Perfect," coos Just Feng.
Angelique sparkles, buries her nose in the soft, soft fur.
Macaron purrs against her chest.
Just Feng's pocket jingles and he pulls out a cellphone. He says something in his language. Blinks fast. Pokes at the phone and holds it out in front of him.
The phone says, ""Hi, Cobalt. Sorry about Ling, he can't help being loud—""
Just Feng makes an unhappy noise and frowns—
""—and clumsy—""
—shrugs.
""—but the /someone had to bring you Buttercream and the Universe thought it was time for him to leave the temple he was hiding in.""
"Chu, I was—"
""You should visit him.""
Just Feng's forehead goes wrinkly. "Who are—"
""You're wearing your Commonwealth Ghost Hunter security hoodie.""
Just Feng looks down at himself.
Angelique blurts, "Are you watching us, Miss Phone Person?"
""Nope, I'm psychic.""
Angelique looks at Just Feng.
""Tell her.""
Just Feng says. "She /is psychic." Picks at his hoodie, grumbles, "When she wants to be."
""This's been nice, but I have to make sure Ling's brother isn't melting down in Hong Kong—""
"You sent him to /Hong Kong?!" squeaks Just Feng.
""He's /fine, Ling. Well, he will be after I talk to him.""
Just Feng face-palms with a smack.
""So, yeaaaa ... bye, Ling! Bye, Cobalt! Say 'hi' to [Siqi name for the Mountain Dragon] for me!""
"Bye-bye, Miss Psychic Phone Person!"
"Bye, Chu," mumbles Just Feng and he pokes the phone.
== Scene: The Plan ==
"Tell me about the building," says Ressler.
"The Tonbridge is mixed-use: shops, offices, and flats. Access is via street-level doors and a tunnel in the sub-basement."
"The neighborhood?"
"More of the same." Long sips. "Between the morning rush and midday there is minimal pedestrian traffic."
"How's this going to play out?"
"Langlais is 'borrowing' his security from my great-grandmother. They will withdraw on our signal and municipal police will move in, secure the children, and arrest Langlais."
"Straightforward enough."
What's the actual plan?" asks Reddington with that non-smile of his.
"What're you—"
Long real-smiles back behind the tea cup. "Not telling you is the first part."
Reddington sighs, but concedes.
"You're not even going to try?" snaps Ressler.
Reddington—
"If Mr. Reddington had any hope of getting an answer, I'm sure he would persist."
"I'm nothing if not persistent," Reddington agrees.
"It's one of your most charming qualities."
Reddington preens a bit.
"Long, can you guarantee the kids will be safe, whatever the plan is?" asks Keen.
"That depends on what your government has planned for them."
"You just said that wasn't the actual plan."
"Technically /I said that wasn't the real plan," says Reddington.
"Which includes no harm coming to the children."
"I think we would all feel better if you gave us /just a bit of confirmation," suggests Reddington.
Long smiles. "I just did."
Ressler's insides try to sneak off.
Keen, though, leans back, relaxed.
For at least the eight-millionth time, Ressler wonders exactly which god he pissed off to deserve these people.
== Scene: Penthouse ==
Camille rolls his eyes to the penthouse ceiling and asks for patience. Instructs through his mobile, «Cover the injury with cosmetics as soon as he is bathed tomorrow and instruct Gabrielle to keep her wings folded to conceal the gaps.»
Across the table, Lapointe's laid out his weapons in a precise line.
«Good. I expect a full report from you on my arrival tomorrow morning.» He grunts and disconnects.
Russell stows an empty suitcase in the front closet.
Camille taps another mobile contact.
Lapointe checks the charge of his taser's battery.
«Hello, dear heart.»
Russell unfolds the sofabed.
«The flight was uneventful and, thus far, everything here is lovely.»
Lapointe runs a system check.
«I do apologize, but, unfortunately, sometimes business forces a change of plans.»
Russell finishes making up the sofabed.
«I should be home before the week is out.»
Lapointe repacks his case.
«All my love to you, dear heart. Goodnight.» Camille disconnects, sets down his mobile.
Russell fluffs pillows.
«All is in order, Mr Lapointe?»
Lapointe nods deeply.
«Then you are dismissed for the night.»
«Yes, sir. Goodnight.» Lapointe rolls to his feet, glides into the smaller bedroom.
The door shuts with a /click.
Camille signals—
Russell attends, approaches.
—commands, «Make yourself ready for bed.»
Russell lowers his eyes, nods, retreats.
Camille sheds his tie and jacket as he listens to Russell preparing the master bedroom.
A few moments of quiet, then a knock.
Camille smiles to himself, stands, crosses the room at a leisurely pace.
Inside the room, everything is laid out just so and Russell waits at the foot of the bed, his head bowed, eyes closed.
Camille's heart leaps as he seizes a fistful of red hair, forcing Russell's head back, and his old blood rises at the flash of fear in the boy's eyes.
== Scene: Like a Dream ==
Angelique, holding the Dragon's hand, skips up to a tall wooden gate.
The Dragon stops.
Angelique stops. "What's through there?"
The Dragon smiles, pushes it open.
Angelique peers inside.
A grassy lawn and—"/Ixie!"—runs and hugs Ixie so hard they fall over and laugh and cover each other with kisses.
Ixie turns her happy, sparkly pink, says, "I missed you /so much!"
"I missed you, too," agrees Angelique, sniffling a teeny bit.
""But you forgot me, yes?"" says—
"/Elli!" Angelique sits up, wipes her eyes. "I thought you—" Snuffs.
Ixie hugs her; Elli plops down next to them, wraps his good wing around them.
Tears squeeze out. "I've missed you both so much."
Elli nuzzles her hair.
Angelique pushes away to see his face better.
He pulls his wings back—the bad one flops—smiles his sweetest smile.
"Have you been with the Dragon since Grand—" Swallows.
"Uh huh," says Ixie. "Little dragons came and stole me and Rora—"
"Rora's here, too?!"
"Uh huh! And Asuka and Iris and /everybody!"
"Really?!"
Elli ruffles her curls. "Really. Even some brothers and sisters you've never met before."
"/Really?!"
"Ange, it's the /Dragon. They can steal anyone they want, even from Grandfather."
Angelique giggle-snuffs.
Ixie squishes against Angelique. "And Grandfather'll /never get to us here—"
"Grandfather's no match for the Dragon," butts in Elli.
"—and we can be together /forever."
== Scene: Payment (formerly Mountain Dragon) ==
An aide shows Camille to a richly decorated audience chamber, bows, and leaves him there. He signals Lapointe and Russell to remain at the entry, crosses the polished floor alone, and waits.
The Mountain Dragon emerges onto the dais.
Camille bows.
She raises a hand.
Her aide steps around the wheelchair, bows deeply, vanishes.
«Ambassador.»
«High Dragon.» Camille bows deeply. «I am most grateful for your assistance in this latest matter.»
She inclines her head.
«I shall have the payment we agreed—»
«I would have you keep your gold. I have hoarded enough in my very long life.» Smiles with /far too many teeth. «I will take your young man instead.»
«Very well.» Camille applies a smile, signals Lapointe to approach.
«Not that one. The other.»
Waves Lapointe off. «Certainly, High Dragon. I can have a valet here and ready to serve you tomorrow.» Takes—
«I do not want /one of your valets, Ambassador. I desire /your valet.»
«He will require quite a bit of retraining to serve you effectively.»
«That is of no consequence. I am very patient, as you know.»
Camille sets his teeth. «Then you should be aware, High Dragon, Russell is—»
«Deaf as a doorpost and effectively mute. Yes, I am aware,» shes says, «just as you are well aware young men have charms beyond their voices.»
Bows his head. «Of course, High Dragon.» He signals Russell.
Russell pads up, halts facing him, attentive.
«You are hers—» Indicates the dais. «—from now on. Serve her well.»
Russell swallows, turns, bows deeply.
«Yes ... he will do nicely,» hums the High Dragon. She flicks a hand.
A third aide appears.
The High Dragon issues orders in Cantonese.
The aide bows, approaches—
Russell squeaks.
«Mind your—!» Camille's heart stutters, stops.
Violet bows to him.
«You ....»
Violet smiles sweetly, beckons Russell to follow.
Russell checks with the High Dragon—
She nods regally.
—bows politely and leaves with Violet.
Camille watches with only his peripheral.
«With payment settled, our business is at an end.»
«Yes, High Dragon—» Swallows around the lump in his throat. «—it is.»
«Please convey my best regards to your dear wife. Good day, Ambassador.»
Camille bows deeply.
The High Dragon raises a hand.
Her aide steps onto the dais, takes the handles of the wheelchair, and they vanish.
Camille holds the line of his shoulders firm, turns on his heel, strides to the door—
It remains closed.
—looks to Lapointe.
Lapointe blinks, realizes, opens the door.
Camille sniffs, strides out.
== Scene: Clashing ==
Russell follows Violet—
‒/Zhang, child development specialist, Albany crèche, hired twenty-twenty, selected the crèche Employee of the Year twenty-twenty-four ... apparently secretly in the employ of a criminal organization‒
—through a maze of corridors to a yellow door, unlocks it, and bows him inside.
A two-room suite: furnished, clean, brightly lit by wide windows.
Russell's lip twitches up.
A bouquet of bright flowers on the table, their colours apparently chosen specifically to clash with his hair.
Violet smiles a laugh, lifts a small whiteboard from the entry niche, writes:
-‹ This is yours. Fresh clothes in the chest, Food in the icebox, New mobile & tablet on the desk. ›-
Russell swallows, nods.
Violet erases her message, offers the board.
-‹ Thank you. ›-
Violet smiles, bows, and exits.
Russell lets his shoulders slump, steps out of his shoes, setting the whiteboard on the table next to the best chair, and creeps to the armoire.
A full wardrobe: undergarments to pajamas to casual clothes to jackets and ties. Even a pair of soft slippers. All in his size.
He takes a deep breath, selects pants and a pair of flannel pajamas, then pads to the washroom. 
Full shower tub, soap, shampoo, electric razor, facecloth on the counter, hand towel and two large, fluffy towels on the rack. 
Russell strips free of everything, dumps the clothes in a hamper, closes himself in the shower. 
Water as hot as it'll go; Russell works the soap into a lather and scrubs every inch of his skin until he's pink. 
He scrubs again. 
And again. 
And again. 
The water stings; Russell rinses, steps onto the mat, dries off, dons his new clothes, and shuffles out and to the padded chair near the window.
Not a window, but glass doors opening onto a garden.
Russell sits cross-legged, absently gazes out.
Evergreen branches and winter flowers sway in the breeze, a lone bee flits among them.
He loses track of time.
A different motion at the garden's edge.
A black teenager with long, dark wings—
‒/Ariel Antó Charbonneau, sole survivor of three, born twenty-ten, Besançon crèche, disposed of twenty-twenty-four ... clearly not destroyed as Grandfather ordered‒
—approaches across the grass, smiles hopefully, and sketches a wave.
Russell blinks rapidly, tries to smile back, tilts his head, 'come in'.
Ariel lets himself in, pulls over a kitchenette chair, and straddles it, wings flexing slowly. He speaks.
Russell recognizes the language as French and his name among the words, but nothing else and shakes his head sadly, offering the whiteboard and marker from the side table.
Ariel writes, left-handed.
-‹ I'm Elli. You're Russell? ›-
‒/Russell Thomas Paget, twenty-third of an open series, born twenty-ought-six, Besançon crèche, disposed—ownership transferred twenty-twenty-six‒
Russell nods.
-‹ It's good to speak French again ›-
Ari—/Elli—smiles warmly.
Shrugs.
Elli taps a finger against the whiteboard's side.
Russell watches the flowers outside.
Whiteboard edges into view.
-‹ I remember you from Besançon ›-
Russell gestures, 'same here'.
-‹ Are you alright? ›-
Queries with an eyebrow.
-‹ You're on edge ›-
Deep breath, takes the marker.
-‹ Waiting for another shoe to drop. ›-
-‹ There are no other shoes. This's it. ›-
Shakes his head.
-‹ There are /always at least two. ›-
-‹ Not here ›-
-‹ Forgive me for not believing. ›-
-‹ The Dragons aren't like Grandfather ›-
Shrugs, 'we'll see'.
Elli smiles an odd smile, something like pity in the lines around his eyes, adds,
-‹ No one will hurt you here ›-
Russell's blood slowly chills and he swallows hard, picks up the marker.
-‹ Did everyone know? ›-
Elli bites his lip—
-‹ Only the oldest of us and the staff ›-
—and his eyes slide to something over Russell's shoulder.
Russell tucks his knees to his chest, turns his eyes to the back to the flowers and evergreens and bees.
At some point, Elli leaves by the interior door and a light rain begins to fall.
== Scene ==
[Liu records Angelique's message to the winglettes]
== Scene ==
[Langlais and Lapointe go to the Tonbridge, meet with the caretakers, perhaps converse with some potential buyers]
== Scene ==
[Keen and Ressler make arrangements with the municipal police, notice Red's disappeared, as usual, after the plain-clothes scout officer is sent into the Tonbridge]
== Scene ==
[Officer Liu slips into the building; Chao, already inside, takes out the caretakers while Liu plays Angelique's message to the other winglettes and gives a false report to HQ]
== Scene ==
[Ressler, Keen and the locals make entry based on the report there are no threats near the kids and the kids are secure.]
== Scene: Inevitable Confrontation ==
[Red enters, Langlais dismisses Lapointe]
"You realize, Raymond, you are much too late."
"Come now, Camille, this is your /life. You can beg better than /that."
Langlais scoffs. "I've already played out my part—"
"/That's certainly the case."
"—and let the djinn out of his bottle."
"Poetic. /Bra-vo."
"You truly believe removing me will halt progress."
"It will certainly halt yours."
Langlais shrugs—
A distant crash.
—glances to the ceiling. "I do believe that is the cue for my final scene." Inclines his head. "If you will excuse me, Raymond."
Red grins his sort-of grin. "Break a leg."
Langlais bows, exits.
"Melodramatic bastard," mutters Red.
== Scene ==
[Liu and Chao steer them to the bribed ambulance by way of the tunnel and help the winglettes get dressed in tourist gear (Chao is so used to dealing with fumbly things and clothes he makes quick work of it) and Chao leads them to tour minibus]
== Scene: Final Act ==
Camille squares his shoulders, owns the empty room from the lone chair. A deep breath and he taps a contact on his mobile.
««Grandfather?»» says a sleepy voice.
«René, listen to me.»
A sound of fabric shifting.
«I've let myself be trapped by my opponents and have only a single escape left. I intend to take it.»
««You see no other options?»» René is fully awake now.
«I see nothing which will not destroy all for which we have worked.» Camille closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose.
««I understand. The work comes before the man.»»
«Your mother taught you well.» Smiles to himself. «Whatever survives the coming storm is yours. You have earned it.»
««Thank you, Grandfather. I can only hope to live up to your expectations.»»
«You have already exceeded them, René,» Camille says softly.
A deep breath and René says, ««Thank you, Grandfather.»»
«I must take my leave now. Work hard and live well, René.»
««I will.»» Swallows. ««May it end quickly and without pain.»»
«Thank you, Grandson. Goodnight.»
««Goodnight.»»
Camille disconnects, pulls the mobile's auto-destruct tab and tosses it over his shoulder.
It clatters across the floor, hissing.
Camille places the capsule between his teeth, bites down.
Counts one, two, thr—
== Scene: Tourists ==
"What do you mean, 'they're' empty? That part of the building was under armed guard!" Ressler scowls into his phone. "Understood." Disconnects.
"Kids are gone?"
"Kids are gone."
"Can't say I'm surprised."
Ressler huffs. "You can tell Reddington."
She does, when she finds him outside the police tape taking a picture for a tiny tourist group, all decked out in puffy coats and bright green hats and smocks.
"Aren't they adorable?" says Red, taking another picture for good measure.
"They sure are," Keen agrees wistfully.
The tour guide—who looks a /lot like Ling from Middle Earth—thanks Red profusely, then leads the group off with a bright string of Chinese.
Red links his arm with Keen's, walks them to a car. "I'm sure the little angels will be perfectly fine."
== Scene: Epilogue ==
The Mountain Dragon emerges onto the balcony.
Liu bows.
She raises a hand.
Her aide steps around the wheelchair, bows deeply, vanishes.
「Great-Grandchild.」
「Great-Grandmother.」 Offers tea.
The Mountain Dragon accepts, pushes herself to the garden table.
Liu pours tea.
「I hear I have more of them now.」
An incline of the head.
The Mountain Dragon looks out over the lawn, into the sun.
Ten blond children shriek and tumble like puppies with a score or so brunets, watched over by a taller brunet and a ginger.
She takes her cup, sits back. 「You have a problem, Great-Grandchild.」
Liu concedes.
== Polaroid Gallery ==
Wish-tree.jpg
Russell-p.jpg
Pigeon-p.jpg
Mr-puff-p.jpg
Iris-Ixie-p.jpg
Elena-p.jpg
Dragon-gate-p.jpg
Courtyard-p.jpg
Besancon-p.jpg
Barn-owl-p.jpg
Angelique-p.jpg
Forget-me.jpg
Camellia-p.jpg
Daisy-mae-p.jpg
Elli-p.jpg
Cali-glow-p.jpg
Wish-dragon-p.jpg
18th-cent-french-p.jpg
Spectacled-owl-p.jpg
Macarons.jpg
Tai-kok-tsui-p.jpg
Langlais-p.jpg
Putuoshan-p.jpg
Cloud-gate-p.jpg
Tall-grass-p.jpg
Chameleon-p.jpg
Penthouse-p.jpg
Longan-p.jpg
Dole-p.jpg
Welcome-p.jpg
Category:Ficlet
Category:Work in Progress
Category:The Blacklist (reference)
Category:No. 191
Category:Pages with comments
Category:Reddington (ficlet)
Category:Reddington
Category:Yancy (mention)
Category:Angelique
Category:Liu
Category:Liu (ficlet)
Category:Brigit (mention)
Category:Langlais
Category:United States of America
Category:Hong Kong
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