After the prison darkened, the silence of the day was swept away, and it began to boil and restless.

The prisoners in the cells banged on the iron doors, constantly shouting "freedom". This is true of every prison ward, and the sound of sound is like an earth-shattering wave.

Most of the criminals held in the Gulag prison system are anti-government and prone to riots.

The more ferocious the repression, the stronger the backlash, which can be said to be the usual characteristic of the fighting nation.

Later, in order to prevent this from happening, the Gulag Authority decided to give the prisoners more time to move around and reduce the intensity of daytime labor.

The warden also made it a point of allowing "fighting games" to be held in the evenings in the various wards to vent the exuberant energy of the prisoners who had nowhere to release.

The two hours after dark, the doors of the cell are open, and it is "free time" for these violent elements.

Some people tried to escape, but they were all machine-gunned into a sieve as they crossed the wooden fence.

Prisons allow inmates to receive a few extra gifts under their rules, but if anyone crosses that line, it will never be easy.

Leo pushed open the cell door, feeling the long-lost violent.

The strong, vicious gangs, the prisoners, poured out of their cells and began to walk towards the correctional facilities in the prison area.

"Why are those guys staring at me?"

Leo, who was following the crowd closely, looked at the old man next to him.

This old Russian man, who liked to hold Stalin's writings and was arrested and imprisoned for his reactionary remarks, was called Viktor Rezenov.

In fact, he was not so old, his cheeks were thin and thin, and his eyes seemed cloudy, but they were like the old man and the fisherman in the sea, and occasionally flashed with a particularly resolute light.

"They're all skinheads, you just kicked off one of Valery's legs, and he happens to be skinheads."

The old man, Victor, with a book in his hand, followed behind Leo.

He glanced up at the other party and said softly: "No matter what you do with Ivankov, it's better not to provoke the skinheads, they are a bunch of ultra-nationalists, and people like you are dangerous." ”

Leo raised his eyebrows slightly, the last time he came, there were no fighting games and skinheads.

As for the latter, he also knows a little bit about it.

These guys, who like to shave their heads, wear camouflage pants and tattoo "swastikas" on their bodies, are an alternative continuation of Na Populism after World War II.

They advocate the supremacy of Russians (Caucasians), advocate violence, and even come up with radical slogans like "Russia is Russia for Russians."

They are called "skinheads" because they are marked by bald heads and na-thong tattoos.

Their unifying idol was the moustache Führer, and the main assembly day was the last week of April every year (Hitler's birthday was April 20).

In the early days, skinheads were not very numerous, but in recent years they have become more active, growing to more than 50,000 in all regions of Russia alone, and they have gradually taken on a militarized character, with a tight organizational structure and a large number of military weapons, which even the militants of Chechnya are unwilling to provoke.

"You should pray they don't mess with me."

Leo smiled faintly, he was not interested in playing prison with this group of violent people.

Find Vyacheslav Ivankov, a former godfather of the Russian gangster, determine the exact location of Leila Michaels in the women's prison cell, and pack it up and take it away.

Expect to complete the mission in ten hours – if nothing happens!

That's what Leo was going to do.

"How do I get to Ward Six?"

Leo looked at the old man Victor and his intuition told him that there were many stories hidden under the vicissitudes of this man's face, but it was a pity that he had neither time nor wine now.

"Did you see the bald man fighting? His name is Lev Kravchenko, and he is the best player in Ward 4. ”

Victor, who was sitting on a bench, glanced at a burly man who was nearly two meters tall.

"Ward 6 is the most intense place in the fight game, a lot of prison guards bet there, and if you beat Lev Kravchenko, the boss of the detention block will let you go to Cell 6 to participate in the game."

"That's it?"

"That's all."

Leo looked at the surging crowd in a circle, black and overwhelming, expressing some surprise.

The bald man standing in the middle punched hard and hard, and the prisoners who came on the field were not opponents at all, and after a fighting game, the losers were carried down.

"What's so good about a winner? Make these people feel like they're dying. ”

The man who had just come on the field had at least a mild concussion, a broken nose, broken ribs and sternum.

Such injuries are not minor in a prison with inadequate medical facilities.

"Cigarettes, women, vodka, respect for others...... These are all good things that deserve the inmate's madness. ”

Victor said with a sigh.

"I think you'll only like vodka, I'll give it to you later!"

Leo stood up, strode down, pushed the wall in front of him, and entered the center of the field.

The bald man named Lev Kravchenko smiled, and the tall Leo looked a little thin in front of him.

As a key member of the skinhead party, Kravchenko didn't talk nonsense and pounced directly with a huge fist.

"Beat this Yankee to the point of crying."

This is what the bald man thinks when he swings his fist.

Boom!

In just one round, the man who could fight the most in Prison District 4 fell to the ground like a girl.

"Who else?"

Retracting the leg that had stepped on the bald head, Leo asked in a loud voice as he looked around.

…………

Ten minutes later, Leo arrived at Ward 6.

The prison guards next to him had burning eyes, not out of some philosophical breath, but from the ecstasy of seeing the cash cow.

This somewhat strange young man easily overturned five skinhead thugs in Prison District 4, and the process was so simple that people suspected that it was a match-fixing.

"I'm going to sign you up for an iron cage fight, you stand here and don't move."

The prison guard in charge of helping his colleagues bet told him that he was not worried that Leo would take the opportunity to escape unless he could outrun the bullets.

At that time, there was no problem of finding people, and the prison was checked every three days, and the prisoners who stayed in other wards were kept in confinement.

Leo didn't care whether the prison guards were going to buy oranges or place bets, he looked around and couldn't help but be amazed.

The recreation area of Prison No. 6 is a three-storey cement building, and the earth-shaking noise is overwhelming.

The prisoners shouted frantically, like spectators watching a boxing match, and the focus of their eyes was on a huge welded iron cage, more than four meters high.

The upper and lower floors are open in the middle, and on the top floor stand patrol guards armed with electric batons, and not far from the building, two guard posts peek out of the cold muzzles.

The so-called betting was a joint venture between the warden and Ivankov, and both treated it as a boring pastime.

"I'm going to see Ivankov and tell him that an old friend is coming."

Leo went straight to the second floor and said to the thugs guarding the door.

The ferocious eyes of these violent people could not frighten him.

In less than two minutes, Leo saw Ivankov on the top floor in a noisy and fiery atmosphere.

This former Russian godfather, a legendary figure who won the title of "law thief", was burly, with eyes like a falcon, and a wrinkled old face, as if cast from copper and iron.

"Leo White! You damn little bastard! ”

The old man enthusiastically stretched out his hands and hugged Leo who came up, and he laughed and said, "You look much more handsome in a prison uniform than a high-end suit!" ”

"Ivankov, it's been a long time since I've seen you still be so energetic."

Leo also greeted him warmly, and the old man in front of him was probably one of the most famous godfathers of the Russian gangsters.

Most of the current gang bosses are his disciples and grandchildren.

Born in Georgia in the former Soviet Union, Ivankov was unruly from an early age, dropping out of school early to join street gangs, and going to prison was a common occurrence for him

It was because of this experience that Ivankov later became a black marketeer, and at that time, during the Soviet era, the hard-line regime suppressed the space for gangs to survive, and prisons became a good breeding ground for gangs.

So he saw the opportunity, frequented the major prisons, began to peddle tobacco and alcohol, and after the expansion of his network, gradually developed into arms trafficking, counterfeit currency and drug dealing.

As the business grew, a huge underground kingdom was gradually built inside and outside the walls.

But unfortunately, in that era of turbulent regime and change, even if he became the godfather of the Russian gangsters and won the title of Gulag thief, Ivankov was arrested.

Even after the collapse of the Red Empire, he was still imprisoned in the Gulag prison for some reason.

"What are you going to do? Last time you gave the Elephants and the Suns, you were impressed...... Many of them applied for a change of prison and left. ”

Ivankov smiled heartily, not at all with the majesty of the godfather of the gang.

"Find someone for me, Leila Michaels, who should have been locked up here half a month ago."

Leo did not hide it either, and made a request straight to the point.

"Half an hour."

Ivankov nodded and gave a few orders to one of the thugs beside him.

He patted Leo on the shoulder, and the two walked to the edge of the stands, watching the fierce fight in the iron cage.

"There's a newcomer, the fight is fierce, are you interested in having fun?"

"I just went to Prison No. 4 and knocked down a few bald hunks, and the general goods don't interest me."

Leo shook his head slightly, he was here to carry out a rescue mission, but he couldn't be as high-profile as last time.

"Did you see that big black guy? His real name was Ben Turner, and the prisoners called him 'Bronze Tiger'. ”

Ivankov pointed to the black man standing near the iron cage, and the other party seemed to sense something, and looked up at the young man on the high platform.