South of California, San Diego.
In the parking lot of Bay Hotel, Martin, Lorraine, Leonardo, and Nicholson climbed into a somewhat old armored business vehicle.
The bodyguards following them got into another dirty off-road vehicle.
On the business vehicle, Martin's two longtime bodyguards were checking their firearms. The bodyguard in the front passenger seat said to Martin, "Boss, your gun is under the seat."
Martin pulled out a black bag, opened it, took out a handgun, and slipped it into the holster under his armpit.
Another civilian version of the AR short-barreled rifle was placed at his feet.
Lorraine, who grew up in favorable circumstances, asked, "Is it necessary to bring guns?"
"Very necessary," Nicholson replied as he wiped his sunglasses, "The place we're going to next is one of the more chaotic neighborhoods in California, filled with black people..."
Leonardo corrected him, "African American!"
