Chapter 8 - The Brother in Danger
“Call Sandiso,” I said immediately.
Mthente was already reaching for his phone.
He dialed once.
No answer.
He called again.
Still nothing.
His mother began breathing rapidly.
“Maybe he's sleeping.”
Mthente checked the time.
“It's too early.”
He called his grandmother.
She answered after several rings.
“Gogo, is Sandiso there?”
A pause followed.
Mthente's expression changed.
“What do you mean he left?”
I moved closer.
He listened, his jaw tightening.
“Who came for him?”
His mother grabbed my hand.
I could feel her trembling.
Mthente ended the call.
“Sandiso left about an hour ago.”
“With whom?” I asked.
“He told Gogo someone had offered him an apprenticeship.”
I stared at him.
“At this time of evening?”
Mthente didn't answer.
His mother stood abruptly.
“I told you I wanted that boy away from all this!”
“Ma, calm down,” he said.
“Don't tell me to calm down!”
Her voice cracked.
“I've already lost my daughter. I will not lose Sandiso!”
Mthente looked devastated.
I stepped between them.
“We need to involve the police.”
He hesitated.
For a moment, I saw the old instinct in his expression.
The instinct to handle danger himself.
“No,” I said firmly. “You're not going after Radebe alone.”
He looked at me.
“Nangomusa—”
“Listen to me. If you want a different life, then make a different choice.”
His mother stared at him.
“Tusa, please.”
Something in her voice made him stop.
He slowly lowered his phone.
Then he nodded.
“Okay.”
We contacted the police and explained the threat.
Within an hour, officers arrived at the homestead.
A detective named Khumalo listened carefully while Mthente described Radebe and the photograph.
She studied him.
“Are you telling me this man has been involved in contract killings?”
Mthente looked down.
“Yes.”
“And you worked for him?”
A painful silence followed.
“Yes.”
Detective Khumalo exchanged a glance with another officer.
“Then we're going to need a full statement.”
“I'll give you one,” Mthente said. “But please find my brother.”
His mother began crying quietly.
I wrapped an arm around her.
The officers contacted Sandiso's grandmother and began checking where he had last been seen.
Meanwhile, Mthente received a message.
He read it.
His expression hardened.
“What is it?” I asked.
He showed the detective.
The message came from an unknown number.
It contained a photograph of Sandiso sitting inside a vehicle.
He looked frightened but unharmed.
Below the picture was a short demand.
BRING THE RECORDS. COME ALONE.
Detective Khumalo looked at Mthente.
“What records?”
Mthente didn't answer.
I turned toward him.
“Babe?”
He closed his eyes.
Then he whispered something that made my stomach drop.
“I kept copies of Radebe's assignments.”
The detective straightened.
“Assignments involving what?”
Mthente looked at her.
“Names. Payments. Dates. People who were supposed to disappear.”
His mother covered her mouth.
I suddenly understood why Radebe had returned.
Mthente wasn't simply a former employee.
He was a witness who could expose an entire criminal operation.
The detective leaned forward.
“Where are those records now?”
Mthente hesitated.
Then his phone rang.
The same unknown number appeared.
He answered.
A man's voice came through the speaker.
“Hello, Tusa.”
Mthente's face went rigid.
“Where's my brother?”
The man chuckled softly.
“Still breathing.”
May you like
Then his voice became cold.
“Bring me what you stole, or your mother will have two sons to mourn.”
