Andrei raised his eyes to the phalanx of Ocelottry.

"I don't care," he said, lightly, "how you get him, or how he doth protest. I don't care if you pistol whip him into next month. I don't care if you drive him into the jaws of a fucking Gavial. But one of you, or me, or all of us, are going to apprehend Junior Lieutenant Borishnakov and send him back to GRU with a brand of white-hot shame on his lemon-yellow ass."