Rather unceremoniously, she unfastened her seatbelt and dropped onto the underside of the roof with a grunt before dragging herself through the shattered window to escape the wreckage - though the sight she was greeted with wasn’t much nicer. 

Pushing through the bruises and soreness, she got to her feet and froze in shock upon the realisation that the group was being confronted with numerous automatic rifles among their unknown adversaries. Only upon Duncan’s transformation did she snap out of the trance to face the gravity of the situation. 

Ducking back down behind the car, she tried to ascertain everyone’s whereabouts by peering over the hood, though it would be hopeless trying to keep track of Errol who was as erratic as he was electric. 

[color=7bcdc8]“Errol, what did you do?!”[/color] She called out to him among the chaos, naturally assuming that he was the culprit. 

Still crouched against the car, she looked up upon hearing the whirr of helicopter blades and in the opportune moment she sprinted towards the nearby burning black van with a couple of its downed men outside. She pulled the rifle from one of them and crouched with her back to the van for cover, taking her gloves off as she did.

The sound of footsteps approaching from around the back of the van caught her attention. Silently, she approached her would-be assailant and thrust the end of the rifle upwards, stunning him with a follow-up punch for good measure. 

The man was immediately incapacitated, reacting in a way that appeared akin to anaphylaxis but Noa stepped over him, unconcerned and with the knowledge that he would likely be fine. 

Her attention returned to Errol and she got the first glimpse of one of the new assailants, one of whose appearance was particularly disturbing. [color=7bcdc8]“[i]Fils de pute[/i].” [/color]She muttered under her breath.