Kira pushed herself to her knees and shook her head. The ringing in her ears hopefully would subside. It might take a bit longer for the various cuts on her arms and legs from flying glass to close up. Not to mention the spot where the desk took off a piece of her hide. But for the moment, she was thankful to just be in one piece. The very real circumstance of having her head severed by flying objects had been way too close for comfort.
She gained her feet and spotted Gareth, several yards in front of her. Malachi was there also, lending the president a hand to get to his feet. As she scanned the immediate area, her gaze found Commander Bartlett, who looked to be dazed but okay.
Forcing her legs to move, she limped toward the rest of the unlucky four who’d caught the brunt of the explosion.
“Mr. President, are you okay? Malachi? Commander Bartlett?”
Malachi inhaled and exhaled quickly before answering. “We’re fine. The president may be a bit bruised but—”
“Your boss tackled me. Something we will discuss later.”
Gareth moved closer to Kira. “You’re bleeding, Kira. We need to get you to a medic.”
The concern in his voice tugged at Kira’s heart. So unfair for him to care and worry for her, and they were prohibited from doing anything about it.
“Don’t worry about me. I heal really fast. We need to get you checked out and aboard a new Air Force One.”
“We’ll do that in a moment, but first…” Gareth raised his hand and slid it along the path of Kira’s cheek. His touch was gentle as he caressed the sudden ache right below her left eye. Shoot, she must look like crap. If her face was as messed up as her previously pristine leather pants and tank top, then she must look like a poster child for bruised agents. No way could he be looking at her with anything but disgust or pity in his eyes. So why did she want to grab him and kiss the daylights out of the man?Gareth leaned forward, Malachi cleared his throat, loudly, and Kira jumped out of her daydream. How stupid could she be? They had to get out of here.