Shadows pushed back from the chair, bones cracking like old timber. He rose slow, stretched, and let out a yawn that tasted of nicotine and fatigue. Fingers found a cigarette pack on the table�one last soldier in the war against sleep. He tapped it free, lit up, and let the smoke coil like a question mark as his eyes met Mabena�s. No words, just a look that asked if there was more to bleed from this night.
�Good work, Shadows,� the Brigadier said, his voice carrying the weight of steel under velvet.
Silence thickened, settling heavy across the room. The air hummed with the raw voltage of revelation, every man turning the hacked truth over in his mind, measuring the depth of the abyss they�d just opened. Shadows exhaled a slow ribbon of smoke, eyes lost in the flicker of thought.
Mabena broke first. Hand sliding into his pocket, he pulled out the phone, thumb hovering only for a breath before pressing the line to his ear. General Kunene had to hear this�now. There�d be no committee, no chain of whispers. This was war, and the next move had to be cut from bone.
When the line clicked alive, Mabena�s voice was stripped of everything but command.
�General� we need to talk.�
Relief flickered through Kgole like a breath he didn�t know he�d been holding. At least he hadn�t dragged the Brigadier into this for nothing. His instincts�razor-sharp as ever�had hit the mark. For a moment, that vindication settled in his chest like warmth against the cold.
But it didn�t last.
Mazibuko�s warning slid back into his mind, a whisper curling into a roar: �That laptop belongs to people you do not want to end up on the wrong side of.� Now, with the contents spilled open across the screen, Kgole understood exactly what those words had meant. This wasn�t a smash-and-grab anymore. This was dynamite wired to men in high places.
And suddenly, the air felt thinner.