Travel had been a part of the job for John from the first job he'd been assigned. He had willingly gone anywhere a target was located, gone alone, and gone without concern for what he might be going into. There had been more than one city representative -of either the local Continental or whatever passed for The Guild's home base where he'd been sent- who had met him upon his arrival to ask if he was there for a high-ranking target.
Some of those meetings had been for people even more influential than The Pope.
Some of those meetings had been about the person meeting him themselves.
"I've never been---"
John hesitated. His weapons weighed on him heavier than usual and he was very conscious of the extra mags in his belt taking up space where he might have been able to holster his G34. It wouldn't do him any good to try to find a place to hide his main course from view now. The girl had seen it. She wasn't going to forget he had it in his possession for no other reason than he'd hidden it behind a flap of fabric and even if she did forget the G34, what about the duffel John was carrying? There was nothing for it except to try to minimize the threat as best he could to put the girl more at ease.
Stuffing the G34 into his waistband, John pulled up his duffel to unzip it, moving to stow the Glock inside with the rest of his meal as he finished, "---to Indiana. I can't say I have ever been recommended the location. Where is Metroville?"
Another man might have asked if the Welcome Committee came armed.
John Wick was more interested in how far the reach of the people in charge was since he'd been snapped up in Rome without a by-your-leave. He knew the time difference had to be deliberate. The idea he'd lost days or even weeks without any outward appearance of the passage of time was ludicrous. Sedatives took time to work. Any medication or mind-altering substance took time to work. There was nothing out in the wilds which could explain the situation he was in so John chose to do what he did best: adapt.