Mobtop [extra Quality] Info

“Not mine,” hissed Mikhael from the Bratvas.

With three keystrokes, he told the ghost drone that the gold depository was actually the basement of Viktor’s own mansion. Then he told every other drone in the sky that Viktor’s mansion was dropping 50 kilos of uncut heroin. mobtop

He killed the line, poured a vodka, and watched the sirens race toward Viktor’s burning chandelier. Above it all, his own drone—a silent, unmarked thing—hovered and watched. Because the man who controls the air above the crime owns the crime itself. “Not mine,” hissed Mikhael from the Bratvas

Lev exhaled smoke. “Same as always. Nobody owns the mobtop. You just rent it from me.” He killed the line, poured a vodka, and

Lev leaned back, lit a cigarette, and did what he did best. He didn’t shoot the drone down. He didn’t alert the cops. He redirected .