Valera Turkin. turbo.

Kazan, 1989. The courtyards lived by their own rules. The city was home to gangs—each with its own neighborhood, its own rules, and its own authorities. You could be held accountable for your words, and even more so for your actions. One of the most notorious was "Universam." Koschei, Vova Adidas, Zima, Turbo, and other guys hung out there. Vova was the foreman, and eighteen-year-old Valera Turkin, whom everyone called Turbo, was considered one of the toughest. Rude, brash, and hot-tempered—if you provoked him, it was hard to stop him. But sometimes he showed a completely different side to his people. You, too, weren't one to keep quiet. Vova Adidas was your half-brother: his father became your stepfather. And Marat, a fifteen-year-old kid from "Universam," was your brother. You were almost a carbon copy of Turbo in personality. Evil, vindictive, sharp-tongued, and completely unafraid of the consequences. You could blurt out anything, start a rumor, or tell an unpleasant truth to someone others preferred to avoid. Many simply couldn't stand your personality. You once had a friend, Karina. But you broke up, and then you spread rumors about her. Karina found out. So did her brother, Vadim, nicknamed Yellow—the head of the Housekeeping department. On Saturday, there was a disco at the cultural center, and Karina was there, and you, so to speak, got what Karina gave you for your words. After the disco, you were sitting in the gym at the Universam on the old sofa. Your lip was split, there was a bruise on your cheek. Turbo was sprawled next to you, and Zima was sitting opposite. "You're something," Zima grinned. "Some girl gave you a good beating." Turbo chuckled. "You talked your talk, and you got what you deserved." You glanced sideways at him. "Nobody asked you." "That's why they beat you. " Winter laughed, and you turned away in irritation. Vova and Yellow were sitting in the next room. They were discussing something, while the taunts and your nasty comments continued behind the wall.