�Follow me, Captain,� Mantwa said the moment the Brigadier stepped out, her voice clipped and businesslike. Then, glancing over her shoulder, she added to Lindani, �I think we need to confirm if the Lieutenant is still at the station.�
The comment hung for a beat, drawing a subtle flicker of thought across Themba�s face. He almost spoke�almost suggested a different approach�but caught himself. Anything now would sound like second-guessing Mantwa�s lead, and that wasn�t a hill worth dying on. So he stayed silent, watching.
�Sure,� Lindani replied, pushing up from his chair in one smooth motion. He fell in step behind Mantwa and Captain Kgole as they made their way toward the basement, boots striking the concrete with quiet purpose.
�Anyone we can call at the station, Captain?� she asked, her tone carrying the crisp confidence of a professional on duty.
�Yes,� Kgole answered without hesitation. �Sergeant Mkhize.�
The name left his lips, and only then did he grasp the vacuum that had opened around him. He hadn�t spoken to anyone from the station since Tuesday�no one but his wife and daughter. This would be his first contact, and his mind snagged on the memory of his last parting with Mkhize that Tuesday evening. He wondered what the Sergeant was thinking now.
The basement was a fully functional command post, a stark contrast to anything Kgole had encountered in his years on the force. Gadgets of every description crowded the space, their tiny lights blinking rhythmically in the semi-darkness like a constellation of low-hung stars. Mantwa moved with purpose through the congested room to a telephone line at the far end. It was an old, heavy receiver, its sturdy build a testament to its singular, vital feature: it was scrambled. No one could intercept a conversation on this line. Mantwa pulled up a chair, then turned to Kgole, her look a silent but clear enquiry: The number, please.
�Zero-eight-two,� Kgole began, his voice low and deliberate as Mantwa keyed in the digits on the heavy rotary dial.
�Five-one-seven� seven-eight-seven-two,� he finished.