Skipper would have given anything in the world at that moment to take back the past twenty four hours. If he had to pick a runner up, he'd have stolen the paintings himself, or sent Kowalski, because as usual it was really his fault they were in this mess. He saw Joey and the commissioner looking at each other with some doubt, but he and Rockgut knew Hans meant every word he said.
"Kowalski, get me a way to talk to Hans." Skipper ordered. He considered adding something about trying to talk Hans down, but nobody would really belive that. Neither did he, he was just doing it because it was the only thing he could do. He could hear Marlene protesting on the other end of the wire, but Hans was completely ignoring her as he waited for Skipper's response.
"All ready, sir." Kowalski reported a few seconds later, holding a receiver. He had an odd look in his eyes, "Anything you want me to say…?"
"Give me that." Skipper snapped and snatched the phone away. He heard two repeats of the dial tone and two rings through the wire before Hans leisurely picked up.
"Finally, Skippar. You certainly took your time." Hans greeted as if it were no more than a social call, "Remind me, how much was it you claimed to care about Marlene…"
"I'm not interested in banter or any games." Skipper interrupted.
"No banter? No games? Why, are you determined to make our final confrontation boring?"
"Skipper." Kowalski hissed frantically, "Skipper, maybe…"
"Shut up, Kowalski, I don't have the time or the patience this time." He cut the lieutenant off before he could finish. "Alright Hans, here's the situation: I hear you so much speak harshly at a single hostage in there, and I will come charging in there with fifty of this city's finest under orders to shoot to kill. Surrender right now, and the chances you'll even make it to trial increase significantly, Kowalski will back me up on that." Kowalski, in fact, currently looked like he was having some kind of a fit in semaphore.
"Correcting for your exaggerations, I am already well aware of that." Hans replied calmly. "And as I said before…" Hans stopped mid-sentence and Skipper heard the sound of heavy footprints. Then all at once there was a yell, a scream, the clang of something light and metallic hitting the floor and the sound of a small scuffle. This was followed by a barked command obscured by another scream the sound of something heavy being pushed across the floor.
"Hey, let go of me!" Skipper heard Marlene shout, as full of fear as it was fight.
"Really, attempting to get people out through the air vents?" Hans returned to the stage. There was the sound of something crashing to the floor. Marlene sounded like she was putting up a good fight. Then there was the sound of skin hitting skin and the thump of a body hitting the floor, "Nobody will so much as touch the shelf blocking the air vent, understood?" The struggle ended with a groan of pain, "Oh Marlene, I wish I could just knock you out till it's your turn, but that would be more of a mercy to you than to me. Of course you found a paper clip to pick the lock with!"
"If you've harmed her, Hans…" Skipper threatened.
"Skipper," Kowalski could contain himself no longer, "I strongly advise against threatening him, it will only make him more volatile and more likely to…"
"You wanna see volatile, Kowalski? I'll show you volatile!" Skipper slammed the phone down on the receiver so hard Private jumped. "We've got this place surrounded by uniforms, right? Get me two strike teams of the best of them. I wanna hear Hans is either dead or wounded in ten minutes tops, do you hear me? Kowalski, get me the floor plan."
"Sir, I think this is a bad idea…"
"Does that make you incapable of getting me a map? No!" Kowalski reluctantly brought him the required data, "Right, the way I see it, I want one decoy outside the room to draw Hans out, the other one climbs up via the windows from the floor below. Any problems?"
"I think it's a better idea of we try talking him down a little longer…" Rockgut started to suggest.
"You heard him, he's not interested in reasoning. The longer we leave him up there the closer he gets to killing someone." Rockgut appeared to have no objection. Kowalski held an entirely different opinion, but Skipper didn't give him the choice to voice it, "Alright, is that clear? I want that relayed to the teams within two minutes. Joey, I want you running distraction till then."
Assault team A crept up the staircase like heavily armed mice. Flashlights darted around the wall in a manner Private wouldn't have been able to help himself but define as fairy-like, well, like ominous, edgy fairies. Seeing as he couldn't stop them, Kowalski had impressed on them till the moment they'd gone through the door what Hans could do. Step by step they approached the top floor till at the top of the stairway some of the first flashlights illuminated one of the heavy steel doors that locked down the floor. It looked more like the entrance to a bank vault than to a floor of offices. Fortunately, Kowalski had been able to remotely cut power to the defences, so it was just steel doors in the way. But once again, the scientist had an answer for everything, even if it had to be dragged out of him.
Some of the first flashlights focused on a section of wall just to the right of the secure door. The officer in the lead nodded to the next officer and indicated the area Kowalski had described. Immediately, half the seven strong team moved towards the wall, setting to work on its demolition as quietly as possible. A couple of Rico's well placed explosions outside, and they had the perfect cover noise for speedy but careful demolition. On the explosion before last, just ahead of schedule, they finally exposed the wires. The second officer opened a compact tool kit containing only exactly the tools he'd require and got to work as the others formed a neat circle, covering him on all sides.
He signalled he was all ready within a few minutes. Maybe he didn't bother to tell the others about what he assumed was an irrelevant modification to Kowalski's blueprint of the probable layout of the wall next to the security system, or maybe he just never found it. Skipper could hear what was going on through the radio, but the men had been given strict orders not to say a word if they could help it once they were on the floor. The leading officer watched the seconds count down on his watch, regretting that they'd finished early. The second hand seemed to move like the minute hand for those last two minutes before Team B would make an 'attempt' to enter via the bullet proof windows to draw Hans' attention and the minute hand seemed to move like the hour hand.
He didn't even need to see the second hand crawl up to the twelve as all hell broke loose on the other side of the wall. Rico had made sure Team B made noise like no one had ever heard before.
"Go!" The leader whispered. This was likely his last word. The electrician, his name was Macreadi or Manfred or something like Skipper remembered hearing but not caring at the time, crossed the wires to open the door.
"What? You didn't think I hadn't booby-trapped such an obvious security weakness?" Skipper heard Hans' voice speak after his ears stopped ringing from the split second of the explosion he'd heard before the radio had been disintegrated. "I must thank Private's cousin for storing so many pieces of confiscated Consolidated Amalgamated weaponry up here. I have to say, it's far better than anything the old Kowalski ever produced – please tell him that." For once, Kowalski wouldn't have cared even if he had heard, "Go ahead and send up the medics, if they go about their business, I'll go about mine, but it will be a waste of their time, really." Hans waited for an answer, but nothing happened, "Skippar?"
"You know you've just dug yourself in deeper by doing that, but it's not too late to make a deal." A voice that wasn't Skipper's answered.
"Kowalski, how many times to I have to tell you, considering the fact both of you have wanted me dead for the past ten years, I really won't belive any promise you make that includes me getting out of here alive. And that's all I really care about." Hans answered irritably.
"We're the good guys, remember, our first priority is the hostages." Kowalski countered, trying to keep his voice calm and level, but he was vaguely aware of the fact he'd climbed a quarter of an octave, "Give me your ideal situation and I'll try and work with it."
"Get Skippar back on the phone, I've never had much patience for comedy."
"You can only dictate so much of the situation. We're both going to have to make compromises, but the end goal is to get everyone out of there alive… Actually, can you wait just one second then I'll hand you over to Skipper?"
Kowalski handed the phone to Rico, telling him not to say a word but to alert him if Hans did anything. He didn't want Private to hear any more of this than he already had. Kowalski then turned his attention to Skipper, who was still staring, catatonic, at the radio where he'd dropped it on the table, his stare as unending as the static that it reported. Skipper seemed to notice his lieutenant's attention, but he didn't move his eyes from the radio.
"I just killed those three men." Skipper spoke, his voice dull and almost distant. "I've probably killed one of the hostages too – any minute he's going to do it as some kind of retaliation, probably the minute I get back on that phone – and I just killed them too."
"And there's 26 more people out there who are definitely about to die if you don't get back on that phone." Kowalski hissed, talking a step closer to Skipper. Fortunately, the rest of the room was too busy discussing the recent occurrence in hushed voices to pay much notice to Skipper's behaviour. If anything, they thought it was a careful and thoughtful pause.
"'Walski, Hans say' 'ee gettin' 'mpatient." Rico reported, as if to confirm Kowalski's statement.
"And that's not including Marlene. She's up there counting on you too…"
"Then for the love of Doris Blowhole, deal with it!" Skipper snapped, "Maybe you haven't noticed, but I have no clue what I'm doing; I haven't led a team in over ten years!" A few nervous glances were cast their way. 'Not so loud!' Kowalski's eyes ordered. "You seem to know what you're doing now, you're the new Skipper 2.0 or whatever. I'm just a crazy dead soldier who's used to looking out for himself and his equally crazy girlfriend. It's just me and Hans, no more hostages or dead friends teammates…"
"Listen to me Skipper, you need to get back up there, though maybe next time take a little advice from your lieutenant. Hans played you that last round, he knocked you down one without even having to kill one of the hostages. You did exactly what he wanted you to do…"
"Which is exactly why…"
"No, listen to me: alright, so maybe you aren't the legend people think you are, frankly, you never were even back then despite what you began to let yourself belive; but the point is people think you're some kind of superhuman soldier, which is why Team A went up those stairs without any ques…" Kowalski saw Skipper begin to crawl back under the rock, "which is why nobody is panicking yet. And good leader or overrated relic, we both know what's going to happen if people panic." Kowalski threw an arm over Skipper's shoulder in what looked like a friendly gesture, but used it to force Skipper to turn around and face the commanders. "Look at Rockgut and tell me I'm lying. He knows what Hans is capable of." Kowalski continued to hold Skipper to face the room, discouraging half-hearted resistance, but in the end when the significantly stronger Skipper actually decided to turn away, Kowalski had no choice but to let him.
Skipper gave Kowalski a look of humiliated regret and sat himself down in one of the chairs no one had used since things had gone wrong. His shoulders were alarmingly slumped and his eyes locked on to the floor like targeted missiles.
"I'm sorry Kowalski."
"Don't think I'm entirely ignorant to what you're feeling." Kowalski replied softly after a pause, "I know that panic. If I'd arrived a few hours earlier and seen Doris about to die right in front of me, I'd lose it too. I live through every variable of what that moment was – must have been – every night. But in Marlene's case it hasn't quite happened yet. You can still do what I couldn't and step between her and the bullet."
"Unless I end up being the one firing it!" Skipper countered, "You're right, I am panicking, and I'm going to do something stupid so I'm turning this over to someone who's showing me he won't…"
"You really don't get it, do you?" Kowalski snapped, and solicited a few looks, "Alright, you want me to talk math? Fine, because the math's always right, so you can't argue with it." Actually, Skipper argued with it all the time, despite the fact it was logically impossible. But what Kowalski hoped was that Skipper would then point out after thinking that, that logical had never been his forte. Impossible, on the other hand, was. Skipper said nothing. "Either way, odds are every one of those hostages are going to end up dead including Marlene, weather you sit here or get on that phone. In fact, either way I'm almost certain of it, with the exclusion of one variable. What I'm trying to explain to you, which I will now say in even simpler terms which might have a chance of getting through your skull is: you have to treat this like any other mission, ask me to hypnotize you to belive it's 1944 if you have to, or call up the undertaker and order Marlene's coffin right now."