CHAPTER 14February, 22
Thursday, 8:30 a.m.
The Metro would be too slow, so Frank signaled urgently for a cab. One squealed to a stop in front of him. It was glossy black with a red stripe down the side. The driver was Hispanic and spoke in a strong accent. Frank did not have to tell him that he was in a hurry. The man drove as if he had personally declared war on Washington and its streets. He noticed Frank’s terrified expression from the rearview mirror.
“Do not worry, senor. They will stop. It never fails, senor.” The driver stopped abruptly at Frank’s signal, causing them both to lurch forward. Frank reached over the seat to pay him.
“Where did you learn to drive like that, my friend?”
“In city of Boston, senor. I drive there many years before I come here. I do not like the climate
