"They showed me a photograph of what they'd done to some poor kid. The alternative, involving his 14-year-old daughter, was explained to him in graphic detail. For the past year he has paid protection money to two gangs. In Russia, he was a hospital administrator. He owns a number of stores on streets that now look more like Vladivostok than New York. Leon has been my guide to Brighton Beach since we met last December. Whenever the wind stops, waves can be heard crashing over the two miles of sand that mark the seaward boundary of Brighton Beach, an area of Brooklyn that is home to more than 50,000 emigres from the former Soviet Union. Outside the wind howls along Brighton Beach Avenue, kicking up waste paper against shop fronts decorated with Cyrillic script. "I can barely afford to stay in business." It's 9pm and the National Restaurant is full. "I have paid out over $8,000 this month to these animals," says Leon, chugging back a glass of vodka.
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