The officer came over and opened Walt's door. "Get out, buddy."
"Me?"
"You. Hurry up!"
Walt's eyes darted rapidly about. He got out slowly.
"Say something!"
"I, I don't know. What do you want me to say something for?"
"It's Russian?" the driver demanded.
"Hell, I don't know. Come on buddy." The officer took Walt's arm. "There's something funny here all right."
Russian? Walt thought. What did that mean? He could tell he was in for trouble. The man's grip on his arm was uncomfortably authoritative. If I only had a focus rod, I could ... he thought.