Inuyasha McClane peeked through the crack in the door and clenched his gun only tighter. It didn't take a genius to realize that he was utterly outgunned. His trusty pistol was no match for all those semi-automatic machine guns, which the terrorists were armed with. He watched them rounding up the workers in the corridor, heading for the great hall. It wouldn't be long before they entered his current hideout, too. His eyes darted to the door that led to the staircase. It was now or never.

Just when two terrorists had entered the room next to his, Inuyasha flung the door open and dashed to the other side of the hall. He pushed the second door to his escape open and ran up the stairs as fast as he could. On the 35th floor he exited the stairwell and found himself in the middle of a half-finished bureau complex. His eyes searched the room for other beings, but there were none. It seemed that no one had noticed his escape and had followed him here. He then ran through the wild arrangement of scaffolds and plastic sheets, until he had found a good enough hiding place. Inuyasha dropped to the floor behind a huge desk covered in foil, trying to calm down. It still felt like his heart was beating in his throat, sweat was running down his body and his hands began to hurt, for he clenched his weapon far too tightly.

"Fuck," he said.

What had he himself gotten into? One moment, he had been having a fundamental argument with his wife, in the next one, he had been all on his own, escaping from mad terrorists, who were here for whatever reason.

Kagome…

He hadn't even had the time to think about what had felt like the end of his marriage. He had been talking with the chauffeur on the phone, when he had heard the first gun shots. Now he was here in a deserted office on the 35th floor, hiding like a coward, while his Kagome was kept hostage in the clutches of evil criminals. There was something he needed to do, anything at all.

Inuyasha jumped to his feet. He couldn't let anything happen to her. Especially not with things left unsolved like they were now. No, he had to do something. He would save her and then they would talk again. He would save their marriage, too. Of that, he was sure, but how? His eyes darted across the room.

"Fuck."

+++ooo+++

Oh, how he regretted that their arrival had caused the string quartet to stop playing music! Particularly since they had just started to play the first few notes of 'Ode to Joy', his absolute favourite. Maybe, when the operation was running smoothly in its later stages, he would ask them to resume their playing. However, before that, he should order Koga to not shoot any of them by mistake. Koga's trigger-happy finger tended to turn out as a nuisance occasionally. He himself tried to avoid as much casualties as possible and that sometimes clashed with Koga's temper, yet the black haired man still was an essential part of his troupe. Good men were nowadays hard to come by, with the thawing of the Cold War and all, but his second-in-command was reliable and swift, and his work with weapons spoke for itself. Therefore he saw no need for a replacement.

Sesshomaru Gruber ceased his musings and regarded the fretful flock of people in front of him. All this crying, whining and muttering, all this pleading, bribing and praying; it had become tiresome over the years. It would be such a nice diversion, if hostages used their brains for once and remained quiet and cooperative. It would make things easier for all of them. His operations would run smoother and the hostages would be able to walk out of the building instead of being carried out. Alas, your average hostage did not see it this way. Why should he or she? Dramatic breakdowns and pathetic heroism were so much better, after all.

The white haired man raised his left hand to silence to group in front of him, but only when Koga shot a few bullets into the celling, yelling with his hoarse voice that they ought to be quiet, he was able to begin his little oration. He took out his little notebook from his pocket – his hand in his coat pocket had caused the hostages to cringe and cry out, but his men took care of the noise again – and opened it casually. As he was running through his notes, two workers attracted his attention in the corner of his eyes. They had not winced at all, when he had taken out his notebook nor had they uttered any sound at all thus far. In fact, the Japanese looking old man and the woman next to him had acted conspicuously inconspicuously. He smirked internally, before he directed words at his audience, still not bothering to look up fully.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the executives of Nakatomi Corporation deluded themselves into thinking that they knew the true means of power. They are about to be taught a lesson and you shall be witnesses," he said.

Then, he eventually closed his notebook with an audible thud that echoed through the now completely silent hall. A pleasant smile crept on his facial features.

"Now, where is Mr Takagi?"