Whitehead

'The tse.tse is too far away for my fists and feet to reach, and I've got no weapons on me. All I've got is a backpack stuffed with walker tech. Tonight's job doesn't call for a gun or a panga or anything of the sort - tonight, I am the weapon. It's data extraction, corporate espionage. Murder may happen but it's not a pre-requisite. The assignment requires finesse and subtlety.

Which is the exact opposite of what's happening right now.'
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Whitehead is a pimple ready to burst, and the hand squeezing her is forcing her to look her demons square in the eye as she navigates the streets of Old Kampala on a mission turned topsy-turvy from the get go. Will this night see her at long last pop and unravel?