In the rugged high country of Victoria, where dense bushland and remote properties can swallow a man whole, Dezi Freeman appeared to have performed the impossible. For 216 days — more than seven months — the 56-year-old self-proclaimed sovereign citizen vanished after allegedly gunning down two police officers in cold blood at his Porepunkah property on August 26, 2025.

Senior Constable Vadim de Waart-Hottart, 35, and Detective Leading Senior Constable Neal Thompson, 59, were executing a search warrant when the ambush unfolded. A third officer was injured. Freeman, armed and dangerous, fled into the wilderness near Mount Buffalo National Park as one of Australia’s most intense manhunts began.
Hundreds of officers, helicopters, sniffer dogs, and specialist tactical teams scoured the area. Thousands of tips flooded in. Rewards were offered. Yet for month after month, there was nothing — no confirmed sighting, no DNA, no trace of how a man with limited bushcraft skills could survive undetected in one of the country’s harshest terrains.
Then, on March 30, 2026, the manhunt ended in a hail of gunfire at a remote property near Thologolong, roughly 150 kilometres from where Freeman had last been seen. Police shot and killed a man they believe to be Freeman after a tense three-hour standoff. He was reportedly found in or near a shipping container, wrapped in a doona (duvet), clutching a firearm linked to one of the murdered officers.
But as the dust settled and the coroner began formal identification, Victoria Police delivered a chilling message that has sent shockwaves through the investigation: “He didn’t hide alone.”
The Accomplice Who Made the Vanishing Possible
Police Commissioner Mike Bush was blunt in his post-incident press conference. “It would be very difficult for him to get to where he was without assistance,” he stated. “If anyone was complicit in moving this person… or supported him over those seven months, we want to know who those people are. They will be held accountable.”
Investigators now believe Freeman did not simply melt into the bush and survive on his own wits. Evidence from the final hideout — signs of recent human activity, supplies that suggested ongoing support, and the relatively short time he appears to have spent at the Thologolong property — points to at least one secret accomplice, possibly more.
One theory gaining traction is that an inner-circle associate unwittingly (or deliberately) led police to the location through a tip-off or slip-up. Some reports suggest clues were found in the hideout indicating “company” — food, clothing, or logistical support that a lone fugitive would struggle to maintain for long periods without detection.

Former detectives and bush survival experts have echoed the police view: surviving 216 days in Victoria’s high country without help is extraordinarily difficult. The area features extreme temperature swings, rugged terrain, and limited natural resources. Freeman, described by some family members as “unemployable” and deeply immersed in sovereign citizen ideology, was not known as an elite survivalist.
How did he travel 150km without being spotted? Who provided food, shelter, clothing, or medical aid? Did sympathetic locals or members of the broader sovereign citizen network quietly harbour him? These questions are now at the centre of a fresh investigation that could see charges of harbouring a fugitive, accessory after the fact to murder, or even conspiracy-related offences — carrying potential sentences of decades in prison.
A Life Built on Defiance
Dezi Freeman’s path to infamy was years in the making. Once known as Dezi Filby, he had long espoused anti-government views typical of the sovereign citizen movement — a fringe ideology that rejects the authority of courts, police, and many laws. Friends and family described him as increasingly isolated, paranoid, and confrontational with authorities.
The fatal confrontation at Porepunkah on August 26, 2025, was not entirely unexpected in the eyes of some who knew him. Police were there to execute a search warrant related to ongoing matters. Instead, they walked into an ambush. The two officers killed left behind families, colleagues, and a community in mourning. Their deaths shocked Australia and triggered the largest tactical police operation in Victoria’s recent history.
In the immediate aftermath, Freeman disappeared into the bush near Rayner Track. Initial searches focused on Mount Buffalo, with police exploring three main scenarios: he had died by misadventure or suicide in the wilderness; he had escaped and was being actively harboured; or he had somehow survived alone.
By February 2026, after a major five-day search yielded no results, police publicly acknowledged the possibility of external help. Yet no solid leads emerged until the final tip that led to Thologolong.
The Chilling Details Emerging Now
New information paints a disturbing picture of how Freeman may have been supported. Reports suggest the hideout at the remote property was partially prepared in advance. Signs of “company” — perhaps multiple sets of footprints, discarded packaging, or evidence of recent movement — have detectives convinced he was not entirely solitary.
One accomplice theory involves a close associate who may have picked him up after he allegedly floated down a river to evade initial searches. Another points to networks within the sovereign citizen community, some of whom have expressed open admiration for Freeman’s actions. Disturbingly, AI-generated “tribute songs” glorifying the cop-killer have appeared on streaming platforms, with titles like “The Ghost of Mount Buffalo,” fuelling concerns that a small but vocal segment sees him as a folk hero rather than a double murderer.
Freeman’s wife, Mali, and their three children reportedly spent the seven months believing he was already dead. The shock of learning he had been alive — and allegedly sheltered — has added layers of trauma to an already devastated family.
Locals in Porepunkah and surrounding areas lived in fear for months. Whispers of “he’s being helped” circulated, but few dared speak openly. Now, with the manhunt over, police are turning the spotlight on potential complicit individuals. Commissioner Bush has issued a clear warning: anyone who assisted Freeman will face justice.
The Human Cost and Lingering Questions
The deaths of Senior Constable Vadim de Waart-Hottart and Detective Leading Senior Constable Neal Thompson remain the heart of this tragedy. Their colleagues describe them as dedicated officers doing their duty. The injured third officer continues to recover, both physically and emotionally.
For the victims’ families, the discovery of an accomplice brings a bitter mix of closure and renewed anger. Knowing that Freeman may have been protected for over half a year — living relatively comfortably while their loved ones were gone — is profoundly chilling.
Broader questions remain:
How many people knew where Freeman was? Was the support limited to one individual, or did a small network enable his evasion? Did sovereign citizen ideology play a role in motivating helpers to defy the law? Could this case expose deeper cracks in how fringe groups operate in rural Australia?
Police have seized new evidence from the hideout and are pursuing multiple lines of inquiry. They emphasise that the investigation into accomplices is in its early stages but moving quickly.
A Warning from the Bush
Dezi Freeman’s story is a stark reminder of how remote Australian landscapes can conceal danger — and how a single determined individual, with the right help, can evade one of the country’s largest manhunts.
But it is also a story of accountability. “He didn’t hide alone,” police say. Those words now hang like a shadow over anyone who may have chosen loyalty to a fugitive over justice for two slain officers.
As detectives dig deeper into Freeman’s final months, the truth is emerging: survival in the bush is hard. Survival with secrets is even harder. And in the end, those secrets are rarely kept forever.
The chilling reality is that while Freeman’s run is over, the hunt for those who helped him has only just begun.