Agent couldn't think of any way to get into the bank undetected, so she figured the best way for her to enter would be right through the disfigured front door.  Several men stood by the door, guarding it with assault rifles.  Agent dropped from the roof and onto the metal overhead, making a soft clicking sound on the roof as she landed.  She froze, eyes wide with fear.  The heroes in the comics wore heels and it never caused them problems.  Why did it mess with her?

Mumbling from the men arose as they looked up at the awning.  Agent quickly scrambled for her belt just like she had practiced a million times.  She pulled out a colored smoke bomb her family always bought to celebrate Independence Day.  They were easily available in bulk, especially on the internet.  As her career hadn't really started yet, she didn't have much money to spend on her life as a vigilante, so she settled for cheap fireworks.  Agent pulled out a purple smoke bomb and pulled out a "strike anywhere" match.  Quickly she ran the head of the match along the rough wall of the bank, lighting it.  She placed the flame against the fuse, praying it would not be a dud.

As the men began to step outside, turning their heads towards the awning, Agent tossed the firework through the doorway.  The men pointed their guns at it as smoke poured out of the sphere and quickly filled the entrance.  Agent grabbed the edge of the awning and swung into the scene.  She used her momentum kick the closet man, knocking him flat on his back.

Agent's heart raced faster than it ever had before.  She was surrounded by criminals with semi-automatic rifles with no protection but about five thin sheets of Kevlar sewn into her suit.  Not only that, but she still had no idea how resistant her skin would be from bullets.  The men turned to her direction, their guns following.  Agent lept forward, sending her fist smashing right into the solar plexus of the man.  Her blow was slightly cushioned by the thick bullet-proof vest under his black shirt.  Nevertheless, the force of her blow was too much for the man who crumbled to the floor in agony.  She continued her forward assault, sending her elbow up into her next target's jaw.  He fell beside his partner.  Agent aimed a kick at the next criminal but felt the cold metal of a gun across her throat.  The man behind her applied more pressure to her neck, trying his best to choke her.  Her heart nearly stopped as it became hard to swallow.  Another criminal appeared from the smoke and slammed his own fist into her ribs.  It stung, but her reaction must not have been what he expected.  He hit her again, putting more force, but it didn't hurt much.  He then sent a flurry of punches to her body, angered by her apparent invincibility.  Agent began to struggle to breathe as the pressure front the gun mounted.  She grabbed the gunman's hands and squeezed as hard as she could.  Popping sounded off in her ears as he screamed in pain.  The gun fell to the floor.  The man punching her seemed to ignore his partner's screams as he continued his furious assault.  Agent decided she had enough of him and slammed her head against his.  He dropped to the ground, a bump quickly forming on his forehead.  The smoke began to clear and Agent peered inside.

The woman in the orange walked behind the counters, most likely looking for the big vault.  Many of her thugs stuffed money into bags behind the thick bullet-proof glass.  Most of them weren't armed with assault rifles like the guards, but had pistol holsters strapped to their hips.  The ten or so guards scattered throughout the bank were turned to the door, guns aimed straight for the clearing smoke, fingers on the triggers.