The trip was rather long; a good day and a night, broken only by two crappy starbucks stops. The first time obviously wasn't much of a lesson for him the next time, and he suffered the 'quality' of the most base taste in the world both times. But at least he was still going and awake. Even if he was spitting out the window to get some of the over taste out.

He arrived at the backside of the meeting place, parking a good block down the road from where he didn't know the other two were located in a decent sized alley. The noise of the ford, even with Jackson's attempts at quiet, would likely draw attention; given the lack of any other noise. He saw various buildings, warehouses, a factory... the site he was going to was right in that area.

[i]Not suspicious at all.[/i]

He turned off the truck, but opted out of the alarm he had on - there would be no better way to create noise than to turn on his car alarm. He was glad the canopy doors were quiet at least.

He went into the canopy and soon surrounded himself with open suitcases and changed into a trench coat over his casual clothes. The coat was for what came next: two pistols loaded with bullets that had devils crosses on them, an iron crowbar, a nice small jug of holy water, and a nice wooden stake, just in case. He also put on his black work gloves and considered bringing the silver knife, but doubted he would be up against someone of [i]that[/i] nature. Demons, or less likely, hunters would be the opposition.

He swiftly packed up and left the canopy, closing the door as quietly as possible, and left to go along into the next parking lot (where the others were), staying along corners and sides while his hand was on one pistol. He could see better at night than most humans, thankfully, but he didn't know what he was dealing with.

So he might as well just go in expecting the worst.