Sophia heard the announcement that they would have three minutes, then they would have to rush a bank.
On one hand, her conscious mind balked - frontal assault? With their forces?
On another hand, her subconscious, staying ever-true to its practical streak, went about its way preparing her for the shit to go down, utterly disregarding civilians:
One. Her hands dive into her pocket and fix her braided hair to her head with a small clip, safely out of the way.
Two. She pulls at the strings on the straps of her backpack, and it [i]unfolds[/i], transforming into her equipment vest and revealing the back-mounted storage unit underneath.
Three. She fixes the clasps and adjusts the straps on her vest.
Four. Out of the duffel bag come her (currently looking like some high-tech tubes) forearm tool mounts and gloves, which she quickly drops over her hands and presses the unremarkable black buttons near her elbows. With hissing sound they compress, fitting over her hands skin-tight.
Five. Out of the same duffel bag comes her belt with several streamlined containers, which she promptly clasped around her waist and connected some of the boxes to the back unit. Next come two sheathes - one with the long knife with pommel engraved with some sort of symbols, other with the futuristic-looking device resembling both blasters from the movies and a nail gun. Both were placed on the belt, with the "gun" being connected to the belt unit.
Six. She took out her mask and placed it over her face, letting holding clasps to safely hug her head and watching the boot sequence on her HUD-glasses inside. She continued her suit-up sequence while watching the run-down of the diagnostics.
Seven. With a series of clicks, she methodically took out of the duffel bag and affixed on her vest series of small containers and capsules looking like they were produced from the same form of lightweight polymer that consisted its internal plating, filling out her inventory.
Eight. She took out thin tubes from the unit behind her back, each of which ended in a needle and carefully threaded them through specially-prepared hidden ports, inserting them in the blood vessels in her back and then covering them under armour plating. The contraption gently hummed, pumping clear liquid into her veins.
Nine. She gritted her teeth, trying to prepare for what's coming, but still winced when she pressed hidden pressure points on her chin, angrily hissing in pain. Her breathing became faster, world around her becoming a little bit slower while her body suddenly thrummed with released energy.
Ten. She let her braid down and slid back the armoured cap connected to her mask, covering her head and finishing her preparations.
All said and done, it took her just under three minutes - careful design and, perhaps more importantly, drills in putting it on paid off.
After explosion she briefly considered gassing or shooting civilians fleeing the scene to create an additional barrier for the arriving law-enforcement forces, but decided against it: in doing so she would alert any law-enforcement arriving about necessity of NCB countermeasures; and she frankly did not see the point in harassing civilians if that was not the most expedient course of action.
As such, she simply ran after her teammates, detaching her dispensing unit from her belt on the run and booting up the smartsight on it.
Once inside and away from the front doors, though, she quickly measured the situation and for a moment stood still, deciding what to do next. Then the evacuation plan caught her eye. She memorized it and looked to her teammates, speaking through the comms:
[color=fff79a]-- First. We're going to wait for justice forces right here, in the lobby?  Second. Anyone wants to sweep the floor for stragglers so we won't get hit in the back by security? Third. Someone's planning to use people here as shields?[/color]