“Certainly I am ready,” he said. “I am all packed. We take off in a few minutes. And you, Luba, my child?”
“Fine, Dad,” she said.
She looked down. “They’ve got handcuffs on you,” she said. “Why, that’s—”
Garbitsch shrugged. He looked even more wistful. “A formality,” he said. “It makes no difference.”
“Okay,” Boyd said suddenly. “We’ve got to get out of here pretty soon, and you’ll be taking off. Let’s break it up. Miss Thompson, you and Luba go aboard. Malone, you follow with the others.”
Malone rounded up Brubitsch, Borbitsch and Garbitsch and followed the ladies aboard.
He came back to the door then, and stuck his head out. “The keys,” he said.
Boyd stared. “What?”
“The keys to the handcuffs,” Malone said. “I’ll need ’em.”
“You’re going to take them off when they get to Russia?” Boyd said.