Ted kept the phone to his ear a moment longer, as if the silence might yield something useful. It didn�t. He drew a slow breath, and then punched in Mazibuko�s number again.
This time, the lieutenant picked up.
�What�s going on, Lieutenant? The boss is breathing down my neck here�I can�t move,� Ted said, his voice already sharp, cutting off whatever greeting Mazibuko had planned. �Tell me we have the gadgets.�
A pause, �I�m afraid not, Honorable,� Mazibuko said at last, his tone straining toward respect but weighted with frustration. �The officer in charge of the case� he�s not cooperating. I�m still trying to get to the evidence.�
Ted�s patience frayed. �Then make him cooperate,� he said coldly. �Or I�ll bring in someone from outside. I want those gadgets on my desk before the day is over. They do not spend the night at that station�understood?�
�Yes, Sir,� Mazibuko replied, but the line was already dead.
Captain Kgole eased into the cramped office he shared with Sergeant Mkhize, the swivel chair creaking under his weight. Mkhize was out, and that was a small mercy�there were precious few officers in the station he could trust, and fewer still he could afford to be seen confiding in.
He pulled out his phone and scrolled to Kagiso�s number. Trust wasn�t a luxury he fully had with the rookie either, but time was pressing, and his gut told him this move couldn�t wait.
Mazibuko�s veiled warning still rattled around in his head like a loose round in a chamber. Somewhere between that exchange and the walk back here, Kgole had accepted the truth: he�d brushed against a live wire, and now every step he took inside Johannesburg Central was under an unblinking gaze.
When Kagiso picked up, Kgole�s voice was low, deliberate.
�I need you to do something important for me,� he said.
There was no hesitation on the other end. The rookie�s answer carried the eager readiness of a man who would follow his mentor into a burning building. That loyalty