stretched and twisted by everything that had followed. No wonder he kept thinking of it as Tuesday, not yesterday. It felt like a lifetime ago.
�Oh� I see,� the Captain said, his voice carrying a quiet note of concern.
�What�s going on, sir? I�m dying to know,� Mkhize pressed, the urgency threading through his words.
�I�ll update you as soon as we have something solid,� Kgole replied smoothly. �Right now, we�re still probing.�
It was a lie, and he knew it.
�I�ll be in touch soon,� Kgole said, his tone calm but final�a quiet signal that the conversation was over.
�Alright, sir,� Mkhize replied, reading the unspoken message. �Please� stay safe.�
A soft click followed, the line going dead, leaving only the hum of the scrambled connection in the basement.
Kgole lowered the handset with care, the soft click sounding louder than it should in the quiet basement. He lifted his eyes to Lindani, who stood just behind his chair, then shifted his gaze to Mantwa�a silent question in the look: *What now?*
�We have no choice but to go to his house,� Mantwa said, her voice calm but edged with finality. �We don�t have the luxury of time.�
�I�m guessing you know where he stays, Captain?� Lindani asked, turning toward Kgole.
�Yeah,� Kgole replied with a short nod. �I�ve been there a few times.�
�That settles it, then,� Mantwa said, a faint note of relief threading through her tone. But even as she spoke, another thought sharpened in her mind�the risk. Driving around with the Captain, knowing what they knew now, was like moving with a target painted on his back.
�You don�t need to be there when we speak to the Lieutenant,� she added, her voice firm but practical. �We can�t risk your life.�
�Exactly,� Lindani said quickly, glancing at Mantwa as if seeking her approval, his expression asking the question without words: We agree on this, right?