A deal
Vice had the presence of mind to hand over one of his guns to Ivo, who took it with the appropriate level of stoicism of a subordinate doing as he was told, along with the grim faced apprehension of a guy faced with dozens of angry kids.
One of the goons held the door open for him, but not without a parting remark. "Don't be long. We'll be waiting out here."
He didn't close the door, but Ivo pulled it shut behind him.
"You can leave the door open."
Ivo put on a neutral expression. "I just want to get this over with, my boss isn't going to take a second look at the kids, so I'll just pretend to inspect them. But if he hears screaming then he'll come in here. I think you want us gone as much as I want to be gone."
The goon considered his options. It was getting late, and he had better places to be. Also, a kind of sympathy shone through his eyes. The kind of understanding that was only possible between people who had to answer to mean motherfuckers.