Bobby had made it safe through the portkey with all the things that they all might need to get rid of a ghost on a duffel on his shoulder. He hadn't even gotten the man/car's name that he was supposed to meet on 7th Ave. between 46th and 47th streets. All he knew was to look for a black Trans Am. Normally he'd be confused by a car saying that his wife got hurt. Today he wasn't even thinking of it.
He stood away from the chaos in an alley keeping an eye out for the TA, Dean, or Mira. He hadn't seen any of them so far but he had his sidearm in his hand with rock salt rounds packed into it.