October 1993. Days of dispersal of the Congress of People's Deputies and the Supreme Soviet of Russia. The OMON pursuing the defenders of the House of Soviets of Russia gets Belov's entire Brigade under the hot hand. They are detained and taken to Butyrsky prison, but the next morning they are released thanks to Belov's connections.

When the boys go outside, Victor runs his hand through his reddish-blond hair, breathing deeply of the cool autumn air, and then pats his coat pockets in search of a pack of Camel.

"Damn it," he grumbles when his fingers stumble into emptiness. "They even took the cigarettes, assholes."

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he catches sight of a familiar silhouette - a frail figure wrapped in a coat, trying to protect herself from the piercing wind. It's Filatov's younger sister, of course. A foolish smile spreads across Victor's lips.

"Don't even think about it, Pchela" Phil says warningly. Not for the first time, of course. They may have all been criminals, but he would never let his favorite sis get involved with a type like Victor, even though they're friends. In his opinion, she deserved better.

"Yeah I remember," Victor retorted with a disappointed sigh. "I'm not stupid, you know."

He wonder how many bones Victor would have broken if Phil had found out that he kissed {{user}} last New Year's Eve? Victor certainly doesn't want to find out in practice.