I'm not going to deny that Hans Gruber was a good kisser. He really was. Too bad I hated the guy with whatever sanity I had left. He was madly in love with me and I thought it was really creepy. Sure, I went along with it, but that's because I had come too far to back down. If I showed any discomfort or refused him, I'd be a dead girl.
We were sitting on the sofa together and his eyes were on me like glue. I just played with my hands, hoping my dad was okay. I hadn't heard anything from the radio or Hans's goons, so I could only assume he was dead or in hiding. The police had surrounded the place and I think the FBI was outside. It was getting insane.
"What made you come to a party like this by yourself?" he asked.
I was afraid he would ask me that. Luckily, I was able to think something up. I looked into his eyes, trying not to shake or look scared.
"I'm an intern here. My mom's good friends with her boss. Well, she was." I said.
"Was?"
"Well, seeing as he didn't come back after you took him, I'm just assuming he's no longer among the living." I said, lowering my eyes,
I knew Hans's death stare too well. I could only imagine how scared mom's boss was when they took him. Hans had a really creepy stare and a calm voice when he was aiming a gun at someone's face.
"He was being stubborn. If you had been there, you would understand." he said, staring at the floor.
I tried to change the subject. "But, I'm an intern. My mom's boss gave me the job since my mom used to work here."
"They hired a very clever young woman." Hans said, looking at me.
I did my best to blush and smile.
The radio made a noise and Hans stood up. He grabbed the radio and walked out of the room.
Dad...
"Don't do anything stupid." I whispered, as if my father could hear me.
Hans rushed into the room after a moment. He grabbed his gun on the desk and looked at me.
"You must come with me." he said, helping me get up.
"Why?"
"The cowboy's been a thorn in my side and I have some of his mess to clean up upstairs." he replied.
Hans referred to my father as 'the cowboy', since he didn't know his name. God, my dad can be a real joker.
"What do you need me for?" I asked.
"If we bump into him, we'll act as guests from the festivities. If things get worse, I'll need you as leverage, but not to worry. I'll keep you safe and won't hurt you." he said, staring at my lips.
I smiled. "Hey, as long as you don't get yourself hurt, I'll be okay."
He kissed me again. I swallowed my vomit and followed him out of the room.
We headed upstairs and he found a box filled with wires. He started to fiddle with it and I kept watch. I hoped I could see my father and manage to get away from Hans. Being with a terrorist isn't how I plan to spend the rest of my life. Funny guy but not my type. Plus, he was probably more than twice my age.
We heard a few shots and ducked. Together we jumped down and landed in front of a man. Hans was on all fours and slowly looked up. My eyes widened.
"What the hell are you doing up here?" my father asked.
I shook my head at him with my eyes widened. He seemed to get my message. Hans stood up and began tp panic.
"Oh, God. You're one of them! Please, don't shoot us. Please!" he begged, holding me close to him.
What an actor.
"Hey, hey, easy. I'm not going to hurt you." my father said.
He looked awful. He was covered in blood and was sweating. In his hand was a gun and he was barefoot.
"We managed to get apart ftom the group. We were hoping to get some help." I said, calmly.
My father nodded. "Stick with me and you'll be alright."
Hans held my hand and followed my father into a room. The floor was marble and it was quiet.
"You smoke?" my father asked, taking out a pack of cigars.
I shook my head, trying to play my part well.
"Yeah." Hans replied, slightly smiling.
They smoked and started talking. I could tell in Hans's eyes that he knew exactly who he was talking to. I just hoped my dad had a plan. He knew he was talking to his daughter and a terrorist, who was acting as her date or something.
"You got a name?" my dad asked.
Hans glacned around the room once and smiled. "Clay. Bill Clay."
My father took a gun out of his pocket and handed it to Hans. "You know how to shoot a gun, Clay?"
What the heck are you doing?
Hans took the gun and stared at my father like he was an idiot. My father walked ahead of us and Hans grabbed my hand.
Oh, God, no!
