Kevo’s hand shook so violently that the phone almost slipped from his grip, clattering onto the floorboards.
He stared through the narrow gap in the curtain at the dark Subaru idling below.
The exhaust fumes rose like a ghostly white shroud in the Nairobi drizzle, disappearing into the dark night.
He felt completely trapped, cornered on the third floor of an unfamiliar building with no easy way out.
"Brayo," Kevo whispered, his voice cracking with pure panic as he turned back to the room.
"The cops. They're downstairs. A guy named Sergeant Mwangi."
"He knows my name, he knows about the card, he knows everything."
Brayo froze mid-stride, his face turning a sickly shade of pale. The wooden toothpick dropped from his mouth onto the floor.
"Mwangi? The undercover hunter from the rogue Flying Squad unit?"
"Rada imeharibika completely! If that beast is waiting outside for us, we are dead men walking, Kevo."
"He doesn't make arrests. He makes people disappear."
The phone in Kevo’s hand buzzed again, breaking the heavy silence of...