Copy & Paste Power in Modern World

Tobin Rell made the call from behind a shuttered repair shop.

The lane outside was narrow and wet from a leaking pipe. A few boys were playing cards near the corner, and one drunk was sleeping against a wall with his mouth open. None of them looked important, but Tobin still kept his back turned and his voice low.

"I do not think this is right," he said. "If what you said does not happen, I die for nothing."

On the other end, Bruno clicked his tongue.

"Do not act like a child."

"Easy for you to say. You are not the one standing beside Maren every day."

"And you think I reached this high in Gonda’s gang by doing safe work?" Bruno snapped. "Use your head. If I wanted you dead, I would have sent your name to Maren already."

Tobin went quiet.

That line landed because it was true.

Bruno softened his voice a little. "Listen carefully. You do not have to touch him or stand near him when it happens. You only tell me where he goes, when he stops, and who stays with him. That is all."

"That is enough to hang me."

"Only if someone knows."

Tobin looked down the lane.

No one was watching him, but fear made every shadow feel like a man with ears.

He had chosen this place because Rust Gate men rarely used it. The repair shop belonged to an old cousin who had left the city months ago, and the shutter had not been lifted since. Even then, Tobin kept checking the cracked mirror on the opposite wall.

Maren Voss was not a kind leader. He rewarded usefulness, but he crushed doubt quickly. Tobin had seen men disappear for smaller signs of hesitation. If Maren even suspected that Tobin had spoken to Bruno, the punishment would not be quick.

Only two months ago, one driver had been beaten until he could not stand because he had repeated Maren’s route at a card table. The driver had not betrayed anyone. He had only talked too much while drunk. Maren still made everyone watch.

Tobin had watched too.

But if Bruno was telling the truth, Maren was already marked by people far above street gangs.

That changed the shape of fear.

"You said there is more than one organization," Tobin said.

"There is."

"And one of them wants Maren dead?"

"Yes."

"Why tell me?"

"Because after he dies, someone has to sit in that chair. If you are ready, it can be you. If you are not, someone louder and stupider will take it, and you will keep standing behind another man’s shoulder until the next gang war eats you first."

Tobin closed his eyes.

He could see the room in his mind.

Maren sitting at the head table. Men standing when he entered. People lowering their voices when he looked at them. Money moving because he allowed it to move. Tobin had stood near that power for years and told himself being close was enough.

It was not enough.

He wanted the chair.

The thought came so clearly that it scared him more than Bruno’s threat.

He imagined the warehouse men turning toward him for orders. He imagined the collectors waiting for his signal before moving. He imagined Gonda speaking to him instead of speaking over him. The pictures came too fast, and each one made the risk look smaller.

"And protection?" Tobin asked.

"You bring Rust Gate into alliance with Gonda after Maren falls," Bruno said. "The people backing us will protect the new arrangement. Money, support, and a place in the line. Think about what that means."

"Gonda does not have to like you. He only has to accept the order of things when it is placed in front of him."

Tobin breathed out slowly.

Bruno waited.

He knew better than to keep talking. Greed needed space to grow. Push too hard and Tobin might remember fear instead.

Bruno understood that feeling because he had lived with it under Gonda. A man could stand beside power for years and still be treated like furniture. Promise him the seat at the right moment, and he would start justifying the betrayal himself.

"What do you need first?" Tobin asked at last.

Bruno smiled where Tobin could not see it.

"Maren’s next two days. Where he sleeps, where he drinks, which car he uses, how many men change shifts, and whether he meets anyone outside the crew. Send it in pieces. Do not write names if you can avoid it. Use the marks I gave you."

"And when it happens?"

"I will tell you before you need to move."

"Before?"

"Yes, but not too early. If you know too much too soon, you will start acting strange."

Tobin hated that Bruno understood him that well.

Still, the decision had already been made.

"Fine," he said. "I will update you."

"Good, and remember this. After this, Rust Gate can be yours. If you do not have the stomach for it, stay where you are and wait for someone else to decide how you die."

Tobin ended the call without answering.

For a long moment, he stood behind the shuttered shop and listened to the leaking pipe.

His hand did not move toward the phone right away. Once he sent the first update, he could still lie to himself that it was only information. But information was enough to kill a man if it reached the right hands.

Then he opened a small coded note on his phone and began typing.

Maren would sleep at the freight canal warehouse tonight.

Tomorrow afternoon, he would visit the old boxing hall near North Mill Road.

Only four men would go inside with him.

Tobin stared at the message twice before sending it to Bruno.

Across the city, Bruno received it and read every line carefully. His own heart beat faster, but this was the kind of fear he liked. Fear with profit inside it.

He copied the details into a cleaner message and forwarded them to the number Walter had ordered him to use.

The message left his phone.

Now the next move belonged to Adam.