Chapter 8 - Desperate Measures
Nomsa Mokoena did not surrender with her son’s arrest.
Left alone in the crumbling ruins of her life, stripped of her accounts and locked out of the Bryanston estate, she retreated to her last hidden fortress: a luxury game lodge near the Magaliesberg mountains, registered under an obscure shell company in the Cayman Islands that she believed had slipped through Baba’s net.
Nomsa still had cash—three million rand stuffed into three industrial duffel bags, hidden in the lodge’s underground wine cellar.
Sitting in the dim light of the lodge's lounge, sipping cheap brandy because her vintage cellars had been seized, she dialed a burner phone.
"Bra Moss," Nomsa whispered into the receiver, her voice raspy with fury and sleepless paranoia. "The job is changed. I don't want Sipho Dlamini discredited. I want him dead. Him, his useless daughter, and the child."
On the other end of the line, a rough, gravelly voice chuckled. "Sipho Dlamini? Mama Nomsa, do you know who that man is? He put the entire Alexandra gang behind bars twenty years ago. Hitting him is suicide."
"One million rand each," Nomsa spat, tears of venom streaming down her withered, makeup-smeared face. "Three million rand in pure, untraceable cash. Tonight. The daughter is at the Morningside Recovery Clinic. Room 304. Sipho is with her. The child is there too. Burn the entire wing down if you must. Just bring me Sipho’s signet ring to prove it's done."
A long pause hung over the line. "Three million. Half upfront."
"The duffel bag is hidden behind the water tower at the entrance of the lodge," Nomsa instructed. "Take it and finish them. If you fail, I will make sure the police find your family!"
She hung up, throwing the burner phone against the stone fireplace, watching it shatter into fragments. She walked to the window, staring out into the dark African bushveld, laughing maniacally to herself.
"You took my son," Nomsa hissed into the empty night. "You took my house. You took my reputation. Now I will take your lives, old man. Let’s see what your precious law does against a gallon of petrol and an AK-47."
Behind her, the heavy cedar door of the lounge clicked open.
Nomsa whirled around, expecting her house manager.
Instead, standing in the doorway was Advocate Daniel Khumalo, holding a glass of sparkling water, his tailored suit completely unruffled by the dusty gravel roads of the Magaliesberg.
Behind him stood four heavily armed members of the Hawks' Anti-Corruption and Serious Crimes Directorate.
Nomsa froze, the blood draining from her face until she looked like a walking corpse. "H-how... how did you find this place?"
"Your late husband was a meticulous man, Nomsa," Daniel said smoothly, taking a small sip of water. "He kept a private ledger of every offshore asset he bought to hide money from you. Your husband knew you were greedy, but more than that, he knew you were careless."
Daniel signaled to one of the officers, who set a rugged tactical radio onto the coffee table.
The radio crackled to life, and the voice of 'Bra Moss' resonated through the speaker: *“Colonel Ndlovu, the suspect has confirmed the hit and directed us to the upfront payment behind the water tower. The cash is secured. Operation Honey-Trap concluded.”*
Nomsa fell to her knees, her hands clutching at her chest as her heart hammered violently against her ribs. "Moss... Moss is a police officer?"
"Captain Moss Ndlovu," Daniel corrected gently. "One of your father-in-law’s former drivers, who became an undercover operative under Sipho Dlamini’s mentorship in 2004. You just commissioned a triple murder on a recorded police frequency, Nomsa."
Daniel stepped forward, looking down at the woman who had spent years treating his friend’s daughter like trash.
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"Conspiracy to commit murder. Attempted murder. Money laundering. Racketeering. Perjury," Daniel enumerated with clinical detachment. "Even with the best medical team in the world, Nomsa, you will die inside the concrete walls of Sun City prison. There will be no bail. There will be no appeals. You are done."
***
