He really DIDN’T have plans of stopping anywhere; especially not so close to his destination--but he just happened to pass the shop and ever since the vehicle had been rammed a few times, the gas seemed to drain a tad quicker. If this meeting went south, it’d probably be best if that particular problem had been fixed.
He exited the car, slamming the door with extra force (it hasn’t wanted to shut, since that particular attack; but that was less important) before looking the vehicle over. There were no shortage of dents, maybe a few bullet holes, and the driver side windows were gone, but he saw no reason why the vehicle would need any further care for his purposes.
He hoped he wasn’t recognized as he headed inside. Enemies were, truly, lurking everywhere.
“The gas is leaking,” he said, when addressed.