The Driver overriding Cerberus’ pilot

The arms stretched out to either side and the steel fingers flexed. The suit made a few quick fists and shifted its weight from one foot to the other. It looked left, then right, and then down at Creed.
“Good job, Gibbs,” said Creed. “Seems like you’re getting the hang of it.”
“That’s not me, sir,” said the battlesuit.
“What was that, lieutenant?”
“It’s not me sir. The armor just started moving on its own. I’m getting yanked around in here.”
There was a flash from outside that was a little too much like lightning in a horror movie. The suit took three big, confident steps. It loomed over the officer and stretched again. Creed was very aware of how big the titan was. “Can it do that?”
“I didn’t think so,” said Gibbs. “Might be some start-up, shakedown protocol Morris created over the past two years.”
“Did you see anything like that when she demonstrated it earlier?”
“No, sir, I did not.”
Gibbs tried to scroll through the menus again. The system wasn’t responding. The optical system was on but the cursor wasn’t registering his eye movements at all. It drifted and bounced across the heads-up desktop.
A laugh echoed over the speakers and tapered off into a low whistle.

Excerpt From Ex-Patriots, pg 457-458
Peter Clines
https://books.apple.com/us/book/ex-patriots/id585738393