Sure she's heard rumors of bandits. Why else would she be here, idly parked in alt-mode keeping an optic sensor on things. The mark of a good surveillance operative is keen senses and attention to detail. Also the ability to not fall asleep. What?! It's not full recharge, she just idled down for a moment and then next thing she knew--BOOM--all hell broke loose. 

Flashpoint's not sure what the scrap is going on but she's seen enough bombings to suspect foul play. She pushes up out of alt, the old Earth vehicle circa 1970 muscle car achieving bipedal form, ducking her head with a gravely curse as debris bounces off her helm in a shower of embers.

"Whoever blew out all my windows is gonna pay for that!" Because ouch, that stings! But that's when she hears it: voices from inside? She cranes her helm, peering past the flames. "Hey. HEY! Anyone in there!?"