The rose is a rose,
And was always a rose.
But the theory now goes
That the apple's a rose,
And the pear is, and so's
The plum, I suppose.
The dear only knows
What will next prove a rose.
You, of course, are a rose-
But were always a rose.
by Robert Frost

~~~

"Detective Russell Crane," Vahlov said in dense Russian. "It's an honor to finally meet you in person."

Wincing in pain as the Russian guard Gustav yanked my head up by my hair, I looked up at mafia boss Vahlov Pretikov, who in all his not-so-mighty-glory came into the room I'd spent my last hour getting more than beaten up in and then some. But I was still conscious, so there was that.

"Beating me up first and then shoving me onto my knees in front of you like a slave?" I dryly said, spitting out a mouthful of blood. "It's so stereotypical. I must confess I had hoped for more."

"I know you speak Russian. You are in my house. Consider yourself unheard until you speak our tongue."

"Well you're in my country. Consider yourself an illegal immigrant until you pass a citizenship test."

To my surprise, Vahlov started laughing. He gave me a amused grin before smoothing down his goatee. "My men call you 'the clever blond'. I am beginning to see why. Do you have a comeback for everything?"

"Never underestimate the power of a decent vocabulary. Where is she?"

"Where is who?" Vahlov theatrically hummed before snapping his fingers. "Oh, you mean your little girlfriend. Don't worry, she's safe where she is. As long as you do what I say, she won't get harmed. Now, please speak my tongue, I find the English language so tiring. And if you want your little girlfriend to stay unharmed..."

"You already harmed her," I replied, coating on a thick Russian. "I heard your guards outside speak - or rather I saw them."

"Ah yes, you read lips," Vahlov chuckled, crossing his arms across his chest. "They say you can find out everything about a person simply by looking at them."

"You're changing the subject on purpose."

"Perhaps I am," Vahlov mused. "But if you want to see your girlfriend, you'll do best to humor me."

With the memory of what the two guards had said about her and what they had done, I gritted my teeth and swallowed my massive pride. "What do you want from me?"

"First I want to see you dance," Vahlov grinned grimly. "I'm sure you know a lot about me already, but what can you tell me about myself from where you're kneeling?"

"You have had a recent injury to your left shin, my guess is a bullet," I flatly replied, purposely switching back to English. "You've recently also started training that leg, but you pulled a muscle, so now you're in constant pain. You're too much of a man to see a doctor or take pills for it, and speaking of things you should be getting treatment for, I've heard syphilis is a bitch. Oh, and you had pelmeni for lunch with a side of garlic bread and vodka. Very Russian, I might add."

Vahlov stiffened at my deduction, sending a glare to the guard keeping me seated on the floor. If I turned my head up now, I was certain I would see Gustav there fighting a grin by the mention of his boss's STD. Vahlov turned an angry red color. "You - stand guard outside. I'll handle this American myself."

Gustav the guard left the room quickly, and I kept on staring arrogantly at Vahlov who was grinding his molars and muttering angry curses in Russian. "How can you possibly know such things? Nobody knows. Nobody."

"Well I'm not a nobody, am I, Vahlov?"

Vahlov grimaced viciously at me. "Explain it."

"Alright, but I'm warning you," I said, pursing my lips a little. "You'll feel like an idiot once I'm done, I guarantee it. An even bigger one, that is. I do intent to enjoy making myself look superior and others a fool, or so I've been told."

"Try me."

I smirked to myself. I really did enjoy this part too much, didn't I? "Let's start with your leg, then. It was obvious from the sound of your footsteps when you came in the door that you were limping. When Gustav pulled my head up, I noticed you favored your right leg rather than your left, probably to ease the pressure you must be feeling whenever you support your weight on your bad leg. Now how did I know it was a bullet? Well in your line of business, a bullet is much more likely than a stab wound, and besides, who the hell stabs someone on their shin? Balance of probability. Next, the working out; You obviously didn't seek medical attention when after you got shot, so you decided to train it yourself. My guess is that you probably tore a muscle when you didn't give it enough time to heal properly, and then the training probably snapped it completely.

"What's next, the syphilis? Oh yeah, you've scratched your groin so many times, it has now left a particular scratch pattern on your suit - not noticeable unless you're me of course, so don't worry unless Gustav narks you out, your secret is safe. So how come I knew it was syphilis? Again, balance of probability, it's the most common STD, and frankly just too many prostitutes have it today, you might want to reconsider your taste in women, though given why we are gathered here today, I'd say you've long ago given up on changing style.

"Lastly your lunch," I said, glaring coldly up at Vahlov, when all he was stare back at me with an ominous face. "Pelmeni has a very distinct smell, yet was almost masked by the garlic. Garlic is not a usual ingredient in the pelmini dumplings and you had a tiny bread crumb on your shirt. Ergo, I must assume the garlic came from the bread. And as for the vodka? It was just so goddamn Russian, I threw it in there for good measure, now are we done here, or would you like me to deduce you even further, because I could do this all fucking day."

Vahlov looked at me for another long moment before he broke out into a wide grin. "Impressive! Very impressive, detective Crane, I must say. You have keen eye for details."

"And you have a knack for getting on the lesser side of the law," I replied, straightening out. "Enough with the games, Vahlov. Where is she?"

"I told you, she is safe where she--"

"I'm talking about Rose," I snapped. "The kid. Where is she?"

Vahlov slowly smirked and then took a seat in a chair by a long table. He smoothed over his goatee again before he spoke, "You know... any other man wouldn't have caught that piece of information, Detective. Her name. I quite like it, I must confess. It provided me with the perfect metaphor."

"Now provide me with an actual answer. Where. Is. She?" I growled.

Vahlov chuckled to himself. "You know, Detective, there is one thing I have yet to ask you. It is something that has been bothering me; Why did you take interest in my case? A lost kid and a dead prostitute seems a little too trivial for a smart detective like yourself."

"Exactly. It was too trivial, but not for me. For you," I replied. "We both knew you lured me in, Vahlov. I've played along so the dumbfuck cops outside wouldn't suspect anything, but you orchestrated this case for me. You wanted me to come to you, so here I fucking am. What do you want from me?"

"It is not what I want from you, it is what I want to do to you," Vahlov said, his voice now darkening. "Two years ago, Moscow. You were following a case that led you to Russia. Remember who you were investigating?"

"So that's your vendetta?" I scoffed. "Revenge for taking down your brother's cartel and ensuring him the death penalty?"

"You killed my brother!" Vahlov roared and slammed a steel fist into the wooden table. "You took my only family from me, or so I thought until I found Rose. She was my opportunity, and when I heard you had permanently moved to Miami, I saw another one. I could take two birds with one stone, oh but not before messing with you."

"So you took the neighbor I've been casually fucking? That's the best you can do?"

"You and I both know she is more than casual to you," Vahlov smirked and pointed at me. "You hide love well on your face, Detective, but I know when a man is, ah... what is the American expression... whipped."

I gritted my teeth. Sonofabitch. "Whipped or not, you think you'll be able to get to her through me?"

"I have no intentions of getting to you through her," Vahlov chuckled and stood up. "I prefer a more... direct approach."

The door to the room then suddenly opened and three guards walked in. Two of them went up to me and grabbed me firmly, the last one came up to Vahlov and handed him a box, then retrieved to a corner and stood by.

I didn't bother struggling the two guards seen as though it was pointless. I had to preserve energy, and after the beating Gustav administered on me, I wasn't as high in stock as I'd hoped I would be.

Vahlov now opened the box and pulled out a syringe. The fluid inside was honey colored. "You know, I am surprised how far technology has come today. In my days, we didn't have medicine like this," Vahlov said and held up the needle. "My mother gave me vodka whenever I was feeling sick and it knocked me right out. This, however..." He said, coming closer with the needle. "Well, this won't knock you out."

I actually begun wrestling in the guards hold now. I didn't know what that shit was, but I knew I didn't want it near me, much less inside me.

Vahlov came up to and grabbed my hair by the roots and yanked my head up. I glared coldly up at his black eyes, watching how they darkened even more. "This is for my brother."

"No, don't - don't!" I yelled as he yanked my head to the side and thrust the needle deep into my neck. He squeezed the syringe and I groaned as the drug poured into my body and begun working.

I was officially fucked.

• • •

Say no to drugs, kids.