carefully. �And if he figures that out, he�ll know we�ve already found something incriminating on one of them.�
�That�s the idea, Themba,� Mabena said his voice calm but edged with steel. �We�re poking the bear. Forcing it to make a mistake,� His tone hardened into certainty. �A scared man is a vulnerable man.�
Themba didn�t answer. He wasn�t sure this was wise�not yet. It felt too soon to let the cat out of the bag. But disagreeing with the Brigadier, here and now, in front of everyone? That wasn�t an option. So he swallowed the protest and kept his silence.
Mabena glanced at his watch. Nineteen hundred hours. In two hours, they�d be knocking on Mazibuko�s door�not all of them, just the two who were supposed to hit the Sahara Night Club again tonight: Mantwa and Lindani.
Suppressing a yawn, he turned to Mantwa with a flicker of dry humour in his eyes.
�You, Madam,� he said, his voice smooth but carrying a teasing edge, �will be paying the Lieutenant a visit tonight�with your boyfriend here. The club will have to wait.�
The faintest curve tugged at his lips before he pushed himself off the corner of the table, rolling his shoulders and rubbing at the stiffness in his lower back. The movement, casual yet deliberate, signalled what the team already knew: the meeting was over.
�Keep us posted on any developments,� Mabena said as he moved toward the door, hand on the handle. Then he paused, as if a thought had just pulled him back.
�Oh�one more thing,� He turned, his gaze settling on Themba and Thabo. �Assess the level of threat on the Captain. I want no surprises.�
His eyes shifted to Kgole, the weight of command sharp in his tone. �Captain, tell them who to contact and where to look.�
With that, he pulled the door open and stepped out, his strides measured, purposeful�already moving on to the next move in a game that was tightening by the minute.