Gavin had been up fairly early that morning; he'd been going over the planned route the Blackjacks would be taking, while also getting mentally prepared in case bad stuff happened on the job. After a simple breakfast, he'd pulled on his RAF War Service Dress uniform, along with a small cardboard box to carry his gas mask, and a small pouch for spare rounds for his service revolver, which he was wearing openly in a leather holster at his waist. He then donned his officer's visor cap and  tied his shoe laces, giving them a surreptitious buffing with a napkin to make sure they looked their best.<br/><br/>And right now, he was lurking unobtrusively under a tree, waiting for the march to approach, looking like a cosplayer doing a WWII LARP. He'd decided that he'd make a symbolic gesture by joining the protestors in their march, while also keeping an eye on the BDP Goons that were no doubt already circling like the vultures that they were. Upon hearing Tigress' comment, he raised his own communicator to his lips. "I can't help but agree with you there, Tigress.... It's a sucker's bet that they're just waiting for a chance to start something. Keep your wits about you." he murmurred.