Quaranteam: Ruins United

Ruins United

is a part of the

Quaranteam

universe created by

CorruptingPower

, written with his expressed permission. If you have not read the original or spinoffs by

BreakTheBar

,

AgathonWrites

,

BronanTheLibrarian

,

OtterlyMindblowing

,

SilverRyden

,

RonanJWilkerson

,

BirchesLoveBooks

and

The_Licentious_Laureate

, I would highly recommend you do that, not just to better understand the developments but also because those are really good and lots of fun.

I also want to express my gratitude to the QT writing group and especially

The_Licentious_Laureate

for their immeasurable help with proofreading and editing.

xoxo,

Cy~

===========================

Chapter 2

Nov 23rd, 2020.

Waking up wrapped in two beautiful women's bodies might seem like a dream to someone. Dan's right arm was numb, pinned by Rina, sleeping soundly with her head on his chest, as well as his left leg, trapped by Tash's thighs. After years of sleeping alone, except for rare occasions, he was positive he'd be unable to sleep at all if it wasn't for all the rigorous sexual exercise he got the day before. But the man regretted nothing.

Grinning like an idiot, he carefully disentangled himself, wormed his way under the blanket, feet forward, to the edge of the bed and slid out of it to head to the bathroom, his morning wood swaying. Relieving himself, he took a quick shower, scrubbing the dried mix of their fluids of his skin -

eh, should've done this yesterday

- brushed his teeth, and, with a towel around his hips, stepped out to be-

"Boo!"

...ambushed by two naked women.

"Oh blya," he flinched and laughed. "You do that, I'll spank your butts."

Girls looked at each other and immediately bent over, giggling and wiggling their asses at him.

"You're incorrigible," grinning, he rolled his eyes, then gave each a gentle slap. "Shower and teeth, I'll make us some breakfast."

Pulling on the sweatpants, discarded right here in the kitchen last night, Dan proceeded to make a huge omelet for the three of them, generously sprinkling it with chopped ham, grated cheese, cherry tomatoes and Provence herb mix. The girls arrived at the table, fresh and still naked, while he was serving plates.

"So, how does this work?" Rina asked, picking her omelet. "The car, I mean."

"I drive the Gelik down there and bring the Escalade back," Dan shrugged. "Something like that."

"That easy? This fast means it can't be legal."

"But it is, well, except for the part that the Gelik is basically stolen," he debated, waving his fork in the air. "Sonic can work around that. As for the registration and the plates, he will expedite the process, to the benefit of everyone involved. Otherwise that takes a week of running around the city signing papers, and nobody wants to do that in the middle of the pandemic. Especially because there will be cops involved at some point."

"You're awfully nonchalant about it, you know that?" Rina frowned.

"Rin, I know you're a Moscow girl - no offense, it's just your accent breaks through sometimes," he said, putting his elbows on the table. "You’re probably used to doing things differently, given how, blyat, huge that city is, but down here?" He leaned back in his seat. "You see, here it was always about knowing a guy who knows a guy," he tried to explain, Tash nodding in agreement. "When we were kids, our parents were in the know. When we grew up, we were introduced to someone, starting from whom we built our own networks."

"Oh, so you know a guy?" Rina mocked his somewhat thuggish manner of explaining.

"No, girl," he gave her a lopsided grin. "I am

the

guy."

"Okay, Mister Guy, what else can you do?"

He thought about it for a second.

"Everything. Anything, unless you get caught by cops - I got nobody on the inside with law enforcement, and lawyers are not much help these days."

Rina furrowed her brows.

"How does an IT guy become a fixer with those kinds of connections?"

"Oh, he never was

just

an IT guy," Tash finished her breakfast and reached for the cigarettes.

"Hey, suchka, I told you to quit that!" Rina slapped her hand. "

Dick wrapped in a newspaper replaces a cigarette*!

Want me to unwrap that one?" She nodded in Dan's direction.

[*Actual Russian saying, but in Russian it rhymes]

Tash rolled her eyes, released the pack, then grinned and dove under the table, stalking on all fours to his location, and tugged on his sweatpants.

"Hey, woman," he protested. "Even a snake doesn't bite a man when he's eating!"

"

Pizdezh*

, that," Rina dove under the table and joined Tash.

[*Pizdezh - outrageous lies]

Dan only groaned as the two of them traded places to milk his shaft for dessert, and finished in Tash's mouth with a louder one. She probably fed half the load to Rina, who suddenly jerked and bumped her head into the table from below in the throes of her serum-induced orgasm. Dan chuckled.

"You okay there?"

"Oh, it was worth it, trust me," she grinned, climbing out.

"I want a cigarette even more now," Tash whined from under the table.

"Rina, hold the fort, I really need to get going!" Dan escaped the kitchen to the wet sounds of kissing and Tash's moans.

They caught up with him half an hour later. He chose the same outfit as two days prior, minus the beanie and disposable raincoat.

"Please, don't take long," Rina said with a slightly worried expression. "We have no way to communicate."

"We actually do." Pushing the door to the study open, he pointed at his workstation. "I've set up a Teamspeak server, private and encrypted. Once you hear me on the speakers, push the button on the mic and talk. I'm going to buy new phones for you today, any preferences?"

"iPhone," Tash chimed.

"Android, of course," Rina scoffed at her. "Why do you have to act like a brat?"

Dan smiled under his mask.

"Okay, I'll bring both, and then you can fight over them. I won't be back until lunch, there are several places I need to visit today. Want to check up on the crew."

Rina gave him a hug and a kiss on the still exposed part of his cheekbone, Tash reached to nuzzle into his demon mask.

"Be careful," they chorused.

"I will, don't you worry."

He locked all three locks on the door, then ran down the stairs.

Hmm, this used to be harder. Rina probably knows what the vaccine is doing to me, I need to get into details.

His good mood tried to evaporate the moment he stepped outside. The stench of the garbage piles around the courtyard hit his nostrils, somehow stronger and nastier today. Bleak concrete towers of the apartment block didn't let the sunlight in for the most part of the day, with only their tops being painted in warm hues by the morning sun. They were bright yellow, a long time ago, with facade paint mostly washed away, but now he could see a hint of that cheerful color was still there. As Dan strolled to the car, he could see the rare patches of grass on the ground and the remains of leaves in the trees, somehow more vivid green today.

Must be the weather.

The SUV was unwieldy at best, or maybe Dan's lack of driving in the recent years showed.

It looks like a brick on wheels, maybe I just shouldn't expect it to behave differently. Good thing the streets are empty.

The streets were emptier than on the Jan 1st - the day the entire country is supposed to lay in an alcohol coma. It was a weird feeling for a Monday morning - extremely rare cars with back seats packed with boxes and bags -

deliveries, most likely

, one or two service cars, even rarer ambulances. Empty lanes, all traffic lights in blinking yellow. Dan made it out of the neighborhood without meeting a single cop car.

Looks like plague took out some garbage after all.

The concrete maze ended, giving way to low-rises and single family homes - tiny poor neighborhoods full of broken roads and broken people. He tried to catch a glimpse of any signs of life there - failed. Sometimes there were weird dark heaps laying on the ground at a significant distance from the main road, in the alleys, their silhouettes resembling bodies.

The state of the world can be judged by how we react to the body on the ground. Back in my childhood people would run over to see if medical help was needed. Now? How was that... 'The streets are extended gutters, and the gutters are full of blood, and when the drains finally scab over, all the vermin will drown.' The problem is... we are the vermin.

He sighed and looked the other way, checking the mirrors.

Now, what are the chances that the same black Camry would be taking the same route as I am, at the same time?

The sedan was following him all the way from Zapadny, his neighborhood, keeping its distance. Rolling into the industrial zone, Dan took a right, then a left at the next intersection to throw them off, and onto a street between empty office buildings and quiet factory shops. The Camry did the same.

Ah shit, here we go again.

He took another turn, chosing a tiny alley squeezed between two huge warehouses, stopped the car and got out, stretching his arms and legs.

The Camry turned into the alley soon after and stopped not 10 meters away. Dan could see them clearly now - a guy behind the wheel and a girl in the passenger seat, both relatively young - it was hard to say because of the masks. Both were dressed in the same kinda-military fatigues Tash was wearing two days ago.

Figures.

The guy stepped out of the car and headed in Dan's direction in a slow self-assured manner.

"The fuck you want?" Dan inquired.

The guy stopped just two meters away and gave him a measuring look-over.

"Let's see some papers," he demanded with a lazy menace in his voice. His accent was unmistakable too.

Great, what's better than an arrogant Moskal* to start your day.

[*Moskal or katsap - Moscow resident, derogatory]

"It doesn't work like that, pup," Dan put his hands in his pockets. "You first."

The guy took another step, looking Dan straight in the eyes.

"Papers, I said," the menace and arrogance kicked up a notch as he put his ungloved hand on Dan's shoulder.

See, it works like this - your thumb goes into the nook between his thumb and forefinger, while the rest of your palm covers and grabs his hand, twisting it inside while applying pressure with your thumb - it's very painful when done right. At the same time your other hand grabs his elbow, locking it and pushing it up and away, turning his arm like a hand drill, forcing him to turn his torso sideways in an attempt to save his arm. Then you twist his hand so his palm is facing his own head under a weird angle, and he turns his back to you because it's just not possible to resist without breaking any joints. Finally, you push his arm forward and down, like a broom, and he is forced to get on his knees, and if you push further, he'll be kissing the floor. This is why, kids, you don't put your hand on the shoulder of a man you just met.

It only took a second. Dan planted his boot on the guy's ass and pushed, releasing his arm, to send him flying in the direction of Camry's hood, but that wasn't convincing enough. Moskal jumped back up and took a combat stance, raising his arms and slightly jumping in place.

"I'll nullify you, blyat!" He shouted.

A kickboxer, huh? These streets don't respect kickboxers. They are paved with them.

The guy kicked, straight, with his right. Dan moved from the line of attack and swiped his supporting leg, hooking the feet under his knee. The kickboxer lost his balance and collapsed on his back; a second later, Dan's heel landed right on his solar plexus, making him curl up in agony, gasping.

Just one more, to the head.

"Stop!"

He completely forgot about the girl, who was not only out of the car now, but also pointing a gun at him, holding it with two hands. The girl looked scared, her hands were trembling, but hey, a gun is a gun. Dan slowly turned to her, spreading his arms to look as non-threatening as possible, and cocked his head to the side.

"PM, seriously? You don't even know how to use that thing," he inconspicuously shifted his balance to rest 3/4 of his weight on one leg. "Your safety is on."

A second of hesitation, a second of her eyes away from him and on the gun, now pointed just a couple degrees to the side was all he needed. Suddenly, he was in her space, planting a punch in her face with his left and wresting the gun from her hands with his right. The girl stumbled back and nearly fell, looking back at him, terrified, her cheek quickly getting dark red. He waved the gun, commanding her to join the guy on the ground, and she complied, helping him sit up, whispering something Dan couldn't hear.

The kickboxer tried to glare.

"You're gonna sit on a bottle for assaulting an officer of the Federal-" He hissed.

"Please, spare me your bullshit," Dan said, settling down on his haunches, gun in hand. "First thing a fed would do is flash his

ksiva

*. That's an instrument of fear and their greatest weapon. Where's yours?"

[*Ksiva - in Yiddish, it can mean any document; in Russia, it specifically means an ID of a law enforcement officer]

The guy scoffed, but didn't say anything.

"So," Dan looked at him, then at the girl again. "What am I supposed to do with you two?"

The pair didn't respond, but the girl clutched the guy's sleeve with both hands, trembling and looking at the gun in Dan's hand with wild terrified eyes. Something clicked.

"You two are bonded, right?"

She nodded.

"So if I kill him," Dan pointed the gun at the kickboxer, and she gasped and froze. "...you're in for some really bad time, huh? He knew that, and still couldn't help himself - had to prove he's

the man

, disregarding your safety."

He turned his eyes to the guy.

"Natalia Belova and Marina Miller are under my protection," he looked into the guy's eyes pointedly, waiting for reaction, and he got it - subtle eye and brow movements indicated that their names had been recognized. "Don't come looking for them, I won't be this generous again. Other than that? You should be okay, just don't think with your dick next time," Dan stood up and stretched, clicking the gun safety on and putting it into his pocket.

"There won't be a next time for us," the guy spat.

"That depends on you entirely. I wouldn't go back to the

kontora

* if I were you - your mission failed, they won't even bother burying your bodies, just dump them somewhere. But there's plenty of free real estate around here, take your pick, start a new life. Take care, kids, and remember - graves are full of overconfident people."

[*Kontora - agency]

Dan turned to leave.

"Why?" The girl asked.

"Why what?" He stopped.

"Why don't you just kill both of us?"

Dan looked at her over his shoulder.

"I don't want to join the ranks of

pidors

* who torture and kill people just for kicks or because some Kremlin shit told them to. Besides," he shrugged. "You aren't the bad guys here, just misguided. You've been told to fight someone else's war, there's no benefit in it for you in the long run. I'm giving you a chance to walk away."

[*Pidor - initially formed from pederast; now mostly describes a person without moral compass, incapable of empathy; a swear word]

He went back to his SUV, leaving the pair to sit on the cold asphalt. Turning from the alley to the bigger street, he took one last glance into the rearview. They didn't try to pursue him, just sat on the hood of the car, smoking.

-//-

Sonic's compound was a plain-looking three-story brick building in the middle of an industrial zone, with garages, a car shop and a big parking lot surrounded by a tall steel fence. No signs or advertising -

if you know, you know

. Dan was an expected customer - the gates slowly rolled open, letting the Gelik into the half-empty lot, then closed behind him. He parked the SUV in front of the door and stepped out, killing the engine.

The venue was a busy one - Dan heard all kinds of noises coming from the inside. Pandemic or not, people were still driving around, breaking down on a regular basis. Also selling cars, buying cars... swapping cars, repainting cars, fixing bent fenders and bullet holes, replacing broken windows, you name it.

The door opened, letting Sonic out - the short stocky guy with spiky hair, which still carried a hint of blue dye, was packed into a black winter coat over a blue mechanic's overalls and heavy working boots. He raised a gloved hand and smiled with just his eyes above the mask.

"Good to see you,

Smith

*, and right on time!"

[*Smith is Dan's nickname, formed after his last name -

Koval,

meaning blacksmith in Ukrainian]

"Privet, Sasha. How's it going?"

Sonic slowly walked around the SUV, assessing its condition.

"Eh, you know. Sometimes you eat a bear, sometimes the bear eats you. She's barely broken in," He turned to Dan. "Looks like someone just snatched her from the dealership and didn't even care to tune up. Drives like shit, right?"

"It's not like I'm an expert or anything," Dan shrugged and tossed him the keys. "Look for yourself."

"I will, I will. It doesn't matter, I will fetch a good price for her in any case. Your wheels are ready too!"

Sonic pulled the remote from his pocket and clicked the button. The garage door slowly raised, revealing a shiny white Escalade inside a dimly lit garage.

"Full tank, and we got her cleaned inside and out," he started explaining, walking to the garage. "Papers are in the glovebox. Oh, there's also a bag with cash, the crew scrounged some, should be about two

lyams

* in there."

[*Lyam - million, slang]

"Sonic, you shouldn't have..." Dan started.

"Don't give me that, man, I absolutely had to! I can't rob a bro blind. I'm still making good profit, don't worry," Sonic tossed the keys to him.

Dan got into the driver's seat, adjusting it to his frame and checking the mirrors.

"Smith," Sonic started suddenly. "Do you miss the old times?"

Dan slowly turned to look him straight in the eyes, the scene of his earlier altercation with Muscovites flashing in his mind's eye.

"You mean the times when we were young, stupid and got into fights every day?" He paused for a second. "Not really. Any specific reason why you are asking?"

Sonic sighed and lowered his eyes.

"I'm anxious, I guess. My whole crew lives here," he pointed to the ceiling. "You know, to keep everyone safe and keep the wheels turning, while the rest of the boys are at it again."

"Sasha, with all the shit that's going on in the city, they probably have a good reason for it."

"Dani, can... can you talk some sense into them?" He fidgeted. "It's not even about getting their asses kicked, we've survived worse. But this fucking virus, you know? The amount of blood I've cleaned off cars this year... I feel like I'm going to just break if I need to attend another wake."

"Bro, look at me," Dan ordered, and Sonic obeyed. "

Everything

is going to be

fine

, you hear? I'm visiting all of them today and I will set them straight, if need be."

Sonic gave him an indeterminate movement of his head, something between nod and a negative headshake, closed the car door and placed his fist on the window. Dan fistbumped him in response over the glass, turned the key and rolled out of the garage.