BOTCHED

It had been a while before the Volksfrei struck again, but when it did, Hans wanted to scream. Nothing went according to plan.

Somehow, of all the perfectly good security guards guarding the West German airport, Fritz just had to jump the one capable of beating the shit out of him. A black eye and several broken teeth, the stubborn bastard finally radioed for help. It had taken three men to knock all the security guards out. Karl put on one of the guards' clothes, despite there being no need for it. His infamous long blond locks made him stick out like a sore thumb. Of course, this made taking control of the one plane holding the political figure that had caught the Volksfrei's interest a lot harder.

Finally, Hans persuaded him to stay out of sight and to watch their backs should they be jumped from behind. Of course, Karl somehow managed to get himself taken out - though fortunately he put up enough of a fight to catch the attention of the Volksfrei, who were able to hide while the fight went on. Figuring Karl could catch up with them later, twenty of them burst into the main control room. Their machine guns were cocked and aimed. Naturally, everyone looked terrified.

Hans smirked at the businessman with the misfortune of being eye-to-eye with the muzzle of Fritz' machine gun. From his expensive attire to the faked confidence that barely concealed crippling fear for his own life, Hans figured he must be the man in charge, and addressed him directly. "Herrick Ziegler, I presume?"

Taking pleasure in the terror in the man's eyes as he shakily nodded. Hans smiled at him this time, baring a full set of teeth like a great white circling his prey. "How do you do? I can't tell you how pleased I am to finally make your acquaintance."

"Wh-who... are you? W-what d-do you want?" Ziegler stuttered.

Hans inclined his head sideways. "I am Hans Gruber," he intoned in his silky baritone voice. "And these are my… associates." He paused, allowing the reality of the situation to sink into this guy's skull. "As you can see, we are both very professional people."

Finally, Ziegler seemed to find his tongue. "What's so professional about -"

Hans snapped his fingers right in his face, causing the other man to flinch. "Ah-ah-ah, idle discourse amongst colleagues is rather rude, especially when work must be done. I promise I will only take up a few minutes of your time."

The man seemed to give up. "What do you want?"

"I do not appreciate that tone," Hans said sharply. "Although your compliance would be appreciated, I could just as easily blow your brains out and make do with what I've got."

"What do you want from me? I'm just an old guy in charge of an airport! An airport!" Ziegler was starting to sound desperate.

"You have taken the leader of a very powerful terrorist organisation prisoner, and if I am not mistaken, he is flying here on this plane."

Hans pointed to a blip on the radar behind the man, where a dot was seen heading towards a larger dot marked West Berlin, Germany.

"What's it to you?" Ziegler asked.

"Our organisations have done business regularly. You must understand, he is a valuable ally for us."

A nod, although Hans' sharp eyes noticed a slight shudder of fear. Good, the numbskull had a brain after all.

"Now, instead of sending him to prison, you will escort him to the brick building behind the airport, where one of my men will be waiting to receive him. You comply, we will let you go. You never know," Hans chuckled, "you might catch me in a generous mood tonight. I might even give you a paycheck for your hard work."

"Forget it," Ziegler said darkly. "I am not, under any circumstances, letting a criminal madman continue to roam the street, putting people in danger. Not for a million dollars. And speaking of criminal madmen, you should be thanking the stars that I haven't called the police on you yet. You'd be lucky to get juvie, with the shit you've pulled in the last hour alone."

Hans sneered at him. "I wouldn't say I am the lucky one in that scenario," he responded in an equally threatening tone. He picked up a two-way radio, turning it on so Heinrich could hear their conversation from where he was standing. "You see, while we were talking, my associate has planted a bomb inside one of the hundreds of planes taking off from this airport. You will have no way of knowing which, as it is very cleverly concealed. Attempt to disarm it, it goes off. Attempt to evacuate any planes or the entire airport, it goes off. Attempt to call for help, it goes off."

Ziegler's expression contorted from shock into rage. "You sick sociopathic bastard!" he screamed.

"Temper, temper," Hans chided.

Unfortunately, this was the wrong thing to say. The heavy airport manager leapt on Hans, and the skinny nerd - despite having developed more muscle since working at the Volksfrei - had no way of pushing him off. "Men, help," Hans gasped weakly as the two members of the security team present bore down on him, punching, hitting, kicking and choking him. Fritz and several other minions began joining in the fight, attacking his assailants from behind. However, while the fight was going on, the plane containing the terrorist leader landed, and by the time the fight ended, he was being shepherded into jail. Hans' plan was ruined.

"Blow the plane," he told Heinrich over the radio.

"I can't."

"Why on earth not?"

"Polizei."

"Fuck," Hans cursed.

"That's right, boy," Ziegler taunted. "While you were brawling with my security, I called the boys in blue. At least you can join your boyfriend in state prison, no?"

This wasn't the plan! Hans inwardly panicked. He couldn't afford to be arrested!

The last thing Hans remembered, he was being held down by Ziegler's strong arms as a shockingly large number of cops burst into the room, placing everyone under arrest. Then, he was handcuffed and frogmarched out the door. Somehow, the media had picked up on trouble brewing before the cops got there, and a swarm of reporters with cameras and microphones had gathered around the building. Hans groaned inwardly as cameras flashed from all angles, no doubt trying to get the best shots of him being arrested and humiliated. Could this day get any worse?