Daniel shook his head as he followed Tokarev, striding in quick rhythm towards the exit, clothing falling under the pristine lights and casting shadows on a dirt-specked floor. 
"He's just doing his job," he responded simply to the Russian #2's comment on Russian #1. 

Though he held his identity close as the last part of family in foreign lands, the mechanic did have a level of respect for Russians, especially those who served their country without bombing a shitstain village for political change. The land there was harsh, and the ruthless military even more so. They were a complete reflection of their background, which was enough evidence of their strength. 

As his companion found way to the parking, Daniel threw his bag in after Vadim's and joining in the passenger seat.
"Lazy motherfucker," he muttered with a smirk, throwing the door open and entering.