a female voice cried out. Xander was now face-down in the fabric of a blue pantsuit, and even without looking he knew from the scent of the perfume that he had landed on the Fox News reporter Tiffany Collins. He rolled off the woman. Their shocked expressions mirrored one another. “What the hell are you doing here?” Xander asked. The woman brushed white dust off her ripped and bloodied outfit. “Oh, except for a couple of cracked ribs, I’m fine. Thanks for asking,” she said. Xander leaned back against the back wall behind the desk. “I wasn’t expecting to land on someone. So sue me.” The swoosh of the missile came a split second later. Reacting instantly, Xander dove for the reporter and pressed her flat against the floor. She yelped, but was instantly overcome by the explosion that struck the stone edifice directly above them. A shower of debris fell down, including baseball-size pieces of granite. They were nearly buried in the aftermath of the explosion, which was soon followed by three more, just not in such close proximity to their hiding place.
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