His head was down, presumably focused on his phone, so she couldn't see his face. She took a final, anxious glance at the men around her before hurrie...ly slipping to the back of the cart. She stopped a few seats ahead of the man she assumed was her partner, and held the handrail as she idly swiped her phone screen, pretending to be preoccupied.Her heart was beating loudly in her chest. She had worn a strapless black top that could easily be pulled down and a jacket that she hoped would hide any. Up inside then it expands, I am sure you can see it in your minds eye.A truck full of Mugabe's guerrillas "Gorillas" I called them, had arrived popping off AK47 clips like it was chinese new year.Their truck was in a bad way, pouring water from a smashed radiator and juddering from a severely bent propshaft."We need new truck, we take yours." the lead thug announced.Manser stood facing them, a white haired archetypal ex pat, the wrong side of seventy.he faced down a thug half his age and twice. More

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