It's nothing, comrade, don't thank me. [He noticed the tension and finds his cigarettes out, lighting one for himself and then offering them to Prefect. He's fairly sure the man doesn't smoke, but it looks like he could do with starting.]

You're right to be angry, comrade.

[Part of him was thinking, if they only had surveillence everywhere, Prefect could feel safe that nothing would go unnoticed. He shook the thought off and poured them both some gin.]