“But Dad’s not an embezzler,” Luba broke in. “Or a deserter, either. He—”
“We have the records,” Petkoff said.
“But—”
“Ordinarily, Mr. Malone,” Petkoff said pointedly, “we do not find it the policy of the American government to send back political refugees.”
“Now, listen,” Lou said. “If you think you can shut me up—”
“That is exactly what I think,” Petkoff said. “Let me assure you that no offense has been intended.”
Lou opened her mouth and started to say something. Then she shut it again. “Well,” she said, “I guess this isn’t the time to argue about it. I’m sorry, Mr. Petkoff.”
The MVD man beamed back at her. “Call me Vladimir,” he said.
Malone broke in hastily. “You see, Major,” he said, “these men are all embezzlers, as you’ve said yourself. We have the word of your government on that.”
Petkoff took his eyes off Lou with what seemed real reluctance. “Oh,” he said. “Yes. Of course you do.”