Mokoena may have power, but Lynn had something better — leverage.
She stood in a quiet underground workspace Michael had secured. Screens lined the walls, maps marked in red and yellow. Lwandile tapped away at a laptop while Lynn paced slowly, studying a list of names.
> "Mokoena doesn't operate alone," she said. "He hides behind people who look clean, but they're all feeding from the same trough."
> "So who's first?" Michael asked.
She didn't hesitate.
> "Thabiso Moremi."
Thabiso — the beloved minister of youth development. Publicly adored. Privately corrupt. One of Mokoena's longest-standing allies.
Lynn slid a folder across the table.
Inside: receipts of bribes, illegal land deals, and surveillance photos from his "business meetings" at a private club in Phakalane.
> "Lwandile, upload the documents anonymously. But not all of them. Just enough to get the wolves sniffing."
> "On it," Lwandile replied.
By noon, hashtags were trending.
#MinisterOfLies
#ThabisoExposed
The media frenzy exploded. News vans camped outside Thabiso's estate. The man went silent. Rumors swirled — resignation, arrest, exile.
Lynn watched it all unfold like a chess game.
> "When you corner the bishop," she said softly, "you force the king to move."
The next day, her second target fell — Naledi Khama, CEO of a "green tech" firm used to move dirty funds across borders.
Another leak. Another public outcry.
Lynn didn't need to speak. The evidence spoke for her.
Inside a dark office somewhere across the city, Mokoena watched the headlines with rage in his eyes.
> "She's burning my empire one name at a time," he growled.
> "We underestimated her," his advisor muttered.
> "No," Mokoena said. "You underestimated her. I created her."
Meanwhile, Lynn sat in a quiet café, disguised under a scarf and sunglasses. Michael placed a coffee in front of her.
> "You think he'll retaliate?" he asked.
> "Definitely," she said. "He's too proud not to."
She looked out the window, eyes calm but deadly.
> "Let him make the first mistake. Then I'll bury him."