Zvinyorwa zvakabatanidzwa

A man clutching a leather messenger bag makes his way through the darkness of a public park. He’s nervous and sweating, clearly anxious to <emphasis level="strong">avoid detection</emphasis>. He glides along carefully in the misty night, sliding his Oxfords gently over the glistening grass, the trees overhead providing a cover of darkness. He’s almost made it to the edge of the park when three black figures emerge from behind the final tree [whisper] and stand to confront him.