The exit is a bit more cramped than the entrance, if only because unused drones, plus people, and minus vehicle size all sum up to being more cramped even if the crashed Roadmaster technically had less seating space.<br/><br/>But any ride out is a good ride out when you're basically a shadow as far as security has been concerned, and as long as nobody breaks any road rules or keeps the back door open, and the next-to-last twenty-five minutes of the estimated thirty left on the run should be good to cool down in. (Grid Guide helpfully tells Bubble Boy that the most direct route currently has an accident blocking both lanes, and gives a number of suggestions on ways around, the fastest of which takes it to twenty-five minutes.)<br/><br/>And as a few buildings go by (and then don't, because traffic lights), there's the heart of the matter. Mr. Johnson, and thus the delivery point, are in a small, and technically corp-held, park.  It's about as wide open as can be, and is probably secure enough that it's best to assume that Mr. Johnson isn't going to cover everything.<br/><br/>On the plus side, it is one of the few places around that you can enjoy real grass and trees and 'clear' water while still being in the shadow of an arcology. Something about homeowners and light laws. But that doesn't matter. Soon it's just going to be you, Mr. Johnson, and the trade of information for money.