As the E train passed two more stations and emerged above ground, Kush reflected. In a short time, his world had turned upside down.

John Achatz--shot in broad daylight.

Shirley Blanchard--revealed as the keeper of deep and powerful secrets.

Himself--riding a Green Line car that was empty at rush hour. 

With every seat available, he'd nestled a few rows back, under an ad for a broadcasting school.

Though still holding the gun to his head, Donna was calming the driver by talking with him in Haitian, a dialect of French.

Ironically, Kush had just recently been brushing up his French, so he could follow the conversation a bit. 

Donna's method was working. Soon the driver had pointed to the No Smoking sign, and they all three shared a laugh as Donna dropped her Kent on the floor and crushed it. 

Now it sounded like they were debating the best way to prepare Poule en sauce, the classic Haitian chicken-with-sauce dish.