Checking his pistol to assure he had a full clip ready to fire in case of an engagement, he heads down the steps into the dimly lit caverns of the underworld. Subway trains rushing by at timed intervals as usual. He swings his satchel around to see just what kinds of weapons he has at his disposal.
He pulls out some self-sharpened silver-dipped wooden stakes and slides them into his belt. He repacks another few clips of silver-tipped wooden shatter shot and feels comfortable.
Cobb takes another deep breath, chokes down another long sour pull from his flask, and looks for some sort of manned (or unmanned) station where he can find a diagram or map of the tunnel system. He knew if he was going to find this dark tunnel, he would need some direction.