A faint pre-dawn grey had just begun to seep through the cracks around the silo's hatch when Kabelo sensed, rather than heard, that something was wrong. He had been dozing lightly, his soldier's instincts never fully letting him sleep. In the stillness of early morning, a soft thump sounded from above, like something or someone landing on the ground.
His eyes snapped open. Across the cellar, Colonel Mabaso was on watch, sitting against the wall with a pistol in hand. He met Kabelo's gaze and held up a finger — listen.
Kabelo strained his ears. For a moment, there was nothing. Khumalo slept, quietly snoring, oblivious. Then came another sound: the creak of the wooden fence outside, followed by a hushed curse.
Someone was definitely out there.
Mabaso moved in a flash, crossing the small space to gently shake Khumalo awake. Kabelo rose to a crouch, heart pounding as adrenaline flushed away the grogginess. He double-checked his weapons: pistol in its holster, and the mercenary carbine leaned against the wall from last night, a full magazine inserted.
Khumalo blinked awake, opened his mouth to speak, but Mabaso quickly covered it with his hand and whispered, "We've got company."
Above, the hatch was still closed. If their pursuers knew exactly where they were, they'd likely try to catch them in a kill box by dropping grenades or opening fire through the hatch. But there had been no gunfire yet — maybe the enemy was still confirming their presence.
Kabelo's mind raced. Could they slip out unseen? Unlikely — the hatch was the only exit. And if mercenaries were topside, they'd have it covered.
Another creak overhead. Shadows shifted against the sliver of pale light at the hatch edges. Kabelo realized with a sinking feeling that the attackers were being extremely quiet — these were professionals, likely Crimson Shield operatives.
Mabaso gestured to the far corner where some old metal drums stood. Kabelo understood; they offered the only cover in the cellar aside from the crates. Silently, the three men moved into position behind the drums and crates, weapons trained on the hatch above.
A muffled voice came from outside, directly above them. "Check the perimeter again. No one leaves."
Kabelo recognized that voice, even muted. Steyn. The silver-haired colonel was here in person.
Beside him, Khumalo tensed with rage in his eyes at hearing their butcher's voice. Kabelo set a calming hand on his shoulder. Stay focused.
There was a metallic clank — the latch on the hatch was being lifted. Light flooded in as the heavy metal door was yanked open. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Perhaps the attackers expected an explosive trap or gunfire. When nothing came, a small cylindrical object was tossed through the opening down the stairs.
"Flashbang!" Mabaso hissed.
Kabelo reacted instantly, turning away and clamping his hands over his ears, mouth open to equalize pressure. A blinding white light and concussive bang filled the cellar. Even prepared, Kabelo saw spots and his ears rang. But he was moving, forcing himself up despite disorientation, training overriding all.
A dark figure dropped swiftly through the hatch, rappelling by a rope. Kabelo fired two shots at the blurry form before it hit the ground. The figure cried out and crumpled — his shots found flesh.
Another silhouette appeared at the opening above — Kabelo's vision was still clearing. This one threw something larger down — a grenade! It bounced on the floor near the center of the room.
Kabelo didn't think; he simply acted. In a blink, he envisioned the space outside the silo, just above ground, and willed a portal open directly under the grenade. The swirling rift swallowed the device a split-second before it detonated.
An explosion shook the earth outside, dirt raining down through the open hatch. Kabelo's portal had deposited the grenade perhaps ten meters away in the open field. The gambit worked; the blast left them unharmed while likely startling the attackers.
"Go! Go!" Steyn's voice barked from above.
Three more mercenaries descended in quick succession, dropping into the cellar with practiced agility. Khumalo, still half-blind from the flashbang but furious, unleashed a burst from his rifle one-handed. The spray of bullets stitched across the first man down, cutting him down before he could move.
The other two returned fire immediately, muzzle flashes strobing in the dim cellar. Bullets thudded into the drums and concrete. Mabaso grunted as a round grazed his leg, but he fired calmly from cover, hitting one attacker in the throat. The merc gurgled and fell.
The last operative ducked behind the staircase structure, exchanging fire with Mabaso and Khumalo in tight bursts. Kabelo flanked around, staying low. As the merc reloaded, Kabelo lunged forward and smashed the butt of his carbine into the man's face. The operative crumpled, unconscious or worse.
Silence reclaimed the cellar, save for the ringing in their ears and the acrid smell of gunpowder. Four enemies lay sprawled on the floor, either dead or dying. But Kabelo knew it wasn't over — the rest of Steyn's team would be converging.
Colonel Steyn himself was likely right above with more men. Already, Kabelo could hear heavy bootsteps approaching the hatch.
Mabaso limped over to the base of the stairs. He motioned the others back, then quickly knelt to grab the flashbang-blasted rope still dangling from the hatch. With a heave and a swift slice of his knife, he severed it, removing their enemy's easy access.
Up top, someone shouted, "One of ours is down! They're fighting back!"
Steyn's voice cut through: "Stack up! We'll go in hard. On my mark—"
Kabelo felt dread coil in his stomach. If Steyn and a full squad rushed in with grenades or overwhelming fire, they wouldn't stand a chance in this tomb.
Mabaso seemed to come to the same conclusion. He locked eyes with Kabelo and Khumalo and spoke in a low, urgent tone. "They'll flood in any second. I'll toss a smoke up to cover you. Use your... ability and get the hell out. Regroup later."
Khumalo's eyes widened. "Sir, no! We're not leaving you."
"That's an order," Mabaso snapped quietly. His expression softened just a fraction. "I didn't pull you out of hell just to watch you die here. Shadow, you can get out of this. Expose these bastards. Promise me."
Kabelo's throat tightened. "I promise."
Above, multiple sets of boots thundered on the silo's wooden platform. They heard Steyn: "Go! Breach, breach!"
Mabaso pulled a smoke grenade from his jacket, yanked the pin, and hurled it up through the hatch. Immediately, white smoke billowed down the stairs, obscuring everything.
"Now!" Mabaso hissed, shoving Kabelo by the shoulder. "Go, both of you!"
Kabelo didn't hesitate further. He grabbed Khumalo by the remaining strap of his vest. The smoke provided cover but they still needed an exit. Summoning the image of the field beyond the farm, Kabelo forced a portal open against the cellar wall. Through the haze, a round doorway of crackling dark appeared, showing the dim outline of tall grass on the other side.
He dragged Khumalo and plunged through. In an instant, they stumbled out onto dew-laden grass, the cool predawn air hitting their lungs. Khumalo nearly collapsed, but Kabelo held him up.
Behind them, muffled gunfire erupted inside the cellar as Steyn's team poured bullets into it. Kabelo turned to see the portal still open behind him — a swirling window into chaos. Through it, he glimpsed shadows moving, muzzle flashes. Then an explosion — a grenade or a breaching charge — blew inside the cellar. The concussion made the portal flicker and snap shut with a thunderclap.
"No!" Khumalo screamed, reaching toward where the portal had been. He knew as well as Kabelo what that explosion likely meant for Colonel Mabaso.
But there was no time to grieve. Shouts rose from around the silo — mercenaries fanning out, realizing their quarry wasn't in the cellar anymore. One spotted them in the field and opened fire, tracers whizzing through the gloom.
Kabelo hauled Khumalo into the shelter of an irrigation ditch. Dawn was breaking, visibility improving by the minute. They had to move or they'd be pinned down in open terrain.
Khumalo was coughing, either from smoke or emotion or both. His eyes were wet, fury etched on his face. "We left him... Damn it, we left him!"
Kabelo grabbed his friend's collar. "He's gone, Lawrence! We have to survive or his sacrifice means nothing!"
Another burst of gunfire chewed up the dirt nearby. Khumalo clenched his jaw and nodded, tears or sweat cutting tracks down his dust-covered face.
Staying low in the ditch, they scurried eastward, away from the silo. Three mercenaries were visible about thirty meters behind, moving in a combat spread, sweeping the area. The sun was peeking over the horizon now, casting long shadows from the silo and farm.
Kabelo noticed an irrigation pump machine ahead. "There!" he whispered.
Together they crawled to the rusty pump and crouched behind it. Khumalo shakily raised his rifle, but with only one arm usable, his aim would be poor.
"I'm going to draw their attention," Kabelo said. "You take shots when you can."
Khumalo nodded, breathing hard but steadying himself.
Kabelo concentrated and opened a brief portal a few meters to the side of the pump. He didn't step through; instead, he jabbed the barrel of his carbine through it, creating the bizarre sight of a rifle muzzle appearing out of thin air flanking the mercenaries.
He squeezed off a burst. One merc yelled and dropped, hit in the flank by the unexpected angle of fire. The other two spun toward the phantom shooter — exactly what Kabelo wanted.
Khumalo used that moment to fire at the exposed enemies. His first shots missed, but one merc had broken cover to avoid the portal fire and Khumalo's second burst caught the man in the open, pitching him down.
The last attacker realized the trap and turned back toward the pump, firing a long burst. Bullets tore into the metal machinery with clangs, one round zipping past Kabelo's head close enough that he felt the heat.
He pulled back behind cover, shutting the portal. The merc was alone now and cautious. They traded a few more shots, but the operative had gone prone in tall grass, making him hard to target.
The situation was a stalemate for the moment, but reinforcements would be coming — Steyn had more men. Even now, the thumping of the helicopter could be heard in the distance, likely called back to assist.
Kabelo made a quick decision. He had to neutralize this shooter fast and get them away. He met Khumalo's eyes and gestured that he was going to flank via portal.
Khumalo nodded and lobbed a smoke canister (one they had left from Mabaso's supplies) toward the merc. It popped and poured out thick white smoke across the field.
Under the cover of the smoke, Kabelo crawled a few meters to the side and opened a new portal, silently stepping through it to emerge behind the prone mercenary's position. The man was up on one knee now, trying to get a visual on them through the smoke.
Kabelo crept up and pressed his pistol to the back of the merc's head. "Drop it," he snarled.
The merc froze and let his rifle fall. For a split second Kabelo considered taking a prisoner — this man might have intel. But a booming shout from near the farm silenced that thought:
"Shadow! Surrender now or Colonel Mabaso dies!"
Steyn. Kabelo's blood ran cold. He peered toward the silo from behind the merc. Through dissipating smoke, he saw Colonel Steyn standing beyond the fence with a half dozen troops. In Steyn's grip was a figure being held at gunpoint — a battered, bloody but alive Colonel Mabaso, on his knees.
Mabaso was alive, coughing as Steyn yanked him up by the collar. The mercenaries fanned out behind their leader, weapons ready. They had found Mabaso amid the carnage and dragged him out.
Kabelo's mind raced. Steyn was using Mabaso as bait; he still desperately wanted to capture Kabelo alive. Otherwise, Mabaso would likely already be dead.
"I know you're out there, Shadow!" Steyn called, his voice carrying over the field. "You have ten seconds to show yourself, or Mabaso dies! And trust me, I'll still find you after."
About twenty meters separated Kabelo from the fence where Steyn stood. Khumalo was hunkered by the pump, looking to Kabelo for direction. The merc whose head Kabelo had at gunpoint started to stir, realizing his comrades had the upper hand.
Time slowed in Kabelo's perception. He had to make a choice. Surrender was unthinkable. But he couldn't leave Mabaso to execution either — not after all the colonel had done for them.
He weighed his odds. Seven visible enemies including Steyn, plus the possibility of the helicopter arriving any moment. He and Khumalo had one injured merc as a bargaining chip, but Steyn might not care.
Unless... perhaps he did care. These mercs were professional; Steyn might not be eager to sacrifice them.
Kabelo made his move. He hauled the merc he held to his feet, spinning him around and using him as a human shield. Pressing the pistol to the man's temple, Kabelo stepped out of the concealing brush.
"Steyn!" he shouted across the distance. "Tell your men to hold fire, or I kill him!" He started edging toward Khumalo's position, dragging the hostage along.
All guns from Steyn's team snapped toward Kabelo. The sunrise light glinted off Steyn's pale eyes as he narrowed them. Even at this distance, Kabelo saw the scar-faced sneer.
"Shadow..." Steyn said, almost a purr. He pushed Mabaso to his knees and aimed a chrome-plated pistol at the colonel's head. "You kill him, I kill him. You want that trade? One of my men for your dear colonel? Go ahead."
The merc in Kabelo's grip trembled. "Boss, help..." he gasped.
Steyn's expression was ice. "My operative's life means nothing compared to the asset you carry, Shadow. You, on the other hand, I'd prefer not to damage."
Kabelo felt a twist of anger and dread. Steyn was calling his bluff; the colonel cared only for capturing Kabelo and completing his mission.
"Last chance!" Steyn barked. "Drop your weapons and come here, or Mabaso dies. And then your friend, and then you wish you were dead."
Even as he held the gun to the mercenary's head, Kabelo's mind searched for a third option. His portal power – could he use it to turn the tables? Perhaps a surprise...
An idea sparked. It was crazy, but so was everything else these days.
Under his breath, Kabelo murmured to Khumalo, "When I say 'phantom,' you run for the trees."
Khumalo hissed back, "What are you going to do?"
"Even the odds," Kabelo whispered.
Steyn grew impatient. "Five seconds, Shadow!"
Kabelo took a breath, meeting Mabaso's eyes across the distance. The colonel, battered but unbowed, gave a faint nod of understanding. He knew he was a dead man regardless; his gaze urged Kabelo not to give in.
"Phantom!" Kabelo shouted, and simultaneously he yanked the trigger of his pistol, executing the merc hostage. The gunshot was thunder in the morning air.
Khumalo sprinted sideways toward a line of scrub trees.
Steyn flinched at the unexpected gunshot, and in that split second Kabelo threw out his hand, summoning every ounce of power within him. A swirling portal exploded into existence directly between Mabaso and Steyn.
Before anyone could react, Kabelo dashed forward and leapt through the portal. He emerged right behind Steyn and Mabaso in an eye-blink.
Steyn spun, shock crossing his features as Kabelo materialized at his back. Kabelo didn't hesitate — he struck Steyn's wrist with his gun, spoiling the aim as Steyn fired reflexively. The shot went wide, not hitting Mabaso.
Mabaso, despite bound hands, lunged up into Steyn, grappling the mercenary leader's legs with his shoulder. Steyn cursed, struggling to maintain footing.
Chaos erupted. The mercenaries opened fire at the suddenly appearing Kabelo, but they hesitated, afraid of hitting their boss or Mabaso in the melee. Bullets whizzed past, one grazing Kabelo's arm.
Kabelo pressed the advantage. He swung his pistol at Steyn again, this time connecting with his jaw. Steyn staggered, falling against the fence.
One merc broke from the confusion and charged Kabelo with a knife. Kabelo ducked the slash and delivered a crippling kick to the attacker's knee, then shot him point-blank. Another raised his rifle to shoot Kabelo in the back, but a single crack rang out from the treeline — Khumalo had taken a sniper's shot with his rifle, dropping that merc in his tracks.
Steyn recovered with feral speed, backhanding Mabaso across the face and ripping free of the colonel's grasp. In a fluid motion, Steyn drew a combat knife from his belt and slashed at Kabelo. Kabelo jerked back, the blade slicing a shallow line across his chest.
The remaining two mercenaries found clear lines of fire now and advanced on Kabelo with guns raised. Mabaso, coughing blood, threw himself bodily into one of them with a desperate tackle, spoiling his aim. The other merc fired at Kabelo, who ducked behind a fence post as wood splintered.
Steyn lunged with his knife again. Kabelo parried with his forearm, feeling the knife cut into muscle, but trapped Steyn's knife arm under his own. They locked eyes — Steyn's face twisted with rage and something like admiration.
"You are a damn ghost," Steyn growled through clenched teeth. "But this ends now."
With his free hand, Steyn drew a hidden revolver from behind his back. Kabelo saw the glint of steel and willed a tiny portal open — just a palm-sized distortion in front of the gun's muzzle. Steyn pulled the trigger. The revolver roared, but the bullet vanished into the small portal and reappeared a meter away, thudding harmlessly into the dirt.
Steyn's eyes widened in disbelief. Kabelo seized the moment of shock to wrench the knife from Steyn's hand and deliver a brutal elbow strike to his temple. The mercenary colonel crumpled to the ground, dazed.
At the same time, Khumalo emerged from the treeline, firing controlled shots at the merc still grappling with Mabaso. The thug went down with two holes in his torso. The fight was over as quickly as it began.
Breathing hard, Kabelo pressed his pistol to the back of Steyn's head, ready to finish it. He glanced around for any remaining threats. All of Steyn's men were down, either dead or incapacitated. The morning air reeked of cordite and blood.
"Do it," Mabaso croaked, having rolled onto his back. His face was swollen and bloodied, but he was alive. "End that traitor."
Steyn, on his knees, spat blood and let out a chilling chuckle. "Go on then, Shadow. Make yourself like me. A killer in cold blood."
Kabelo's finger tightened on the trigger. He wanted nothing more than to execute this butcher who had murdered his team and hunted them like animals. Images of Captain De Beer and the others flashed in his mind.
But at that moment, the distant chop of the helicopter grew louder — it was almost on them, likely full of reinforcements or at least armed with a gunner. If they stayed to kill Steyn, they might all die or be captured under heavy fire.
Khumalo limped to Kabelo's side, his rifle trained on Steyn as well. "Shadow, chopper's coming! We have to go!" he urged.
Kabelo's heart thundered. Steyn stared up at him with that arrogant half-smile despite his defeat, clearly expecting to be spared for the sake of time.
With a snarl of frustration, Kabelo swung his pistol and struck Steyn across the temple, knocking him unconscious. He then grabbed the dazed man by his collar and shoved him toward Mabaso and Khumalo. "Grab him. He might be useful."
Khumalo slung his rifle and, with his good arm, helped haul the limp form of Steyn up. Mabaso managed to get to his feet, though he swayed, still bound at the wrists. Kabelo quickly retrieved the fallen merc's knife and cut the colonel's bonds.
The helicopter appeared over the treetops, coming in fast. A bullet pinged the ground near them — a sniper from above, or the door gunner spotting movement. They had seconds at best.
Summoning his last reserves, Kabelo opened a portal large enough for all four of them. "Go!" he urged Mabaso.
Mabaso and Khumalo dragged the unconscious Steyn through the swirling door, and Kabelo followed. In a blink, they were gone, the portal snapping shut just as the helicopter's spotlight flooded the spot where they'd stood.
They tumbled out onto a rocky slope a few hundred meters away, concealed by bush. Kabelo had aimed for a spot he scouted earlier — a fallback escape route. From this vantage, they watched as the helicopter hovered over the farm, its crew unaware their quarry had vanished from right under their noses.
Exhausted, wounded, but alive, Kabelo allowed himself a grim smile. They had won a small victory: they escaped the ambush, saved Colonel Mabaso, and even captured Colonel Steyn himself.
But there was no time to celebrate. Crimson Shield would regroup, and now they had their infamous leader taken hostage. That alone painted an even larger target on their backs.
Yet, with Steyn in their custody, they finally had a bargaining chip — and perhaps a source of answers.
Kabelo exchanged glances with Khumalo and Mabaso. All three were bloodied and battered, but determined. The war was far from over, but as the sun rose fully, burning off the last of the morning mist, Shadow and his allies slipped away into the wilds once more, carrying with them the hope that the tides were finally beginning to turn.