Larry was a man of quick decisions. He snapped to the blank-faced guard who had assimilated only a fraction of all this, "Go on back to the boys and tell them to start packing to get out of here. Tell them the fix has chilled. It's all off. I'll be there in a few minutes."
"O.K., chief." The other had the philosophical outlook of those who were meant to take orders and knew it. He left.
Larry and Teeter opened the cell doors.
Teeter said, "How do we know we can trust you?"
Ross looked at him.
Larry said, "It's a deal. Give us an hour to get out of here. Then use the phone if you want to call a taxi, or whatever. I ain't stupid, this thing was too complicated to begin with."
When Teeter and Morazzoni were gone, the three stood alone in the corridor, looking at each other.
The doctor pushed his glasses back onto his nose with a thumb and forefinger. "By Caesar," he said.
Ross ran a hefty paw back through his red crew cut and twisted his face into a mock grimace. "Well," he said, "I have to revise my former statement. I used brute strength against Crowley, the doctor used sweet reason, and Pat her womanly wiles. And all failed. But as biochemists, each working without the knowledge of the others, we used science—and it paid off. I suppose the thing to do now is buy three jet tickets for California."
Braun and Patricia looked at him blankly.