<strong>Susan Cochrane<br/>A block or so away from the scene of slaughter<br/>Diving nito a coffee shop shop with Cherry and company</strong><br/><br/>A coffeshop, cafe tables outside, perfect she'd keep her mouth shut as much as possible and be a perfect customer.  She ducked inside, found a table away from the windows, and grabbed  seat, stuffed Cherry into it and sat across from her.  Damian and  Urbano, well, they were just two more of the usual clientele by the looks of things.<br/><br/>"Later, sure, you bet you can hook up with Nix later, but right now we lay low and keep quiet.  Sirens, do you hear sirens?  Oh God."  She was shaken, shaking, actually.  Now that the crisis was over, her hands were shaking again, worse than usual in fact.  Reaction to bullets flying, staring death in the face, she wanted to collapse into a quivering pile, didn't dare, didn't dare.<br/><br/>She glanced at a menu stand of the table, in Spanish of course.  "Coffee, two, cream and sugar."  She held up two fingers and slapped a ten on the table.  She was pretty sure the server would understand that.<em>My .380, do I ditch it?  It has my prints, the cartridges, I didn't wipe them when I loaded, shiiiiiit.</em>In the relative calm, her imagination was working overtime quite forgetting that she had a concealed carry permit.  But looking at Cherry across the table was a distraction from worry, oh yes she was.