Tyrant crumples fender

The agent made it up to her knees and blinked; her optics were blurred like a
poorly tuned video image, the delicate subsystems of the
augmetic eyes cycling through a reset mode. Her vision hazed from black
and white to color, and she saw her pistol lying among a drift of
broken window glass. Anna loped forward, and stooped to gather up her
weapon, eyes darting around.

As her fingers tightened around the butt of the Mustang automatic, she felt a
sharp jerk at her back that dragged her off balance. Kelso saw the
hood of the stalled town car coming up to meet her and she brought up her
hand just in time to block the new impact. Slipping down over the
crumpled fender, cursing, she saw her assailant.

It was one of the figures from the car, dressed head to foot in black combat
fatigues with a zip hood that closed like a mask over his face. The
man was easily twice her body mass, and protruding from the ends of his
jacket sleeves were hands of dull machined metal. Her hearing was
coming back by degrees, and she heard his combat boots crunching on the
glass as the attacker balled a knot of her expensive Emile jacket
between those steel fingers and hauled her off her feet. She struggled, but
her arms felt like lead.

- Deus Ex: Icarus Effect, Chapter 2 pg. 34