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Apparently Hans decided that his wife couldn't be trusted alone, so instead of the armed guard waiting outside the office, he planted himself just inside the door leaning on the wall.
He also had in his possession both Geralyn's handgun and purse which the blonde eyed with a sigh.
"I imagine Hans has told you not to trust me?" she inquired and the man shuffled but remained silent.
"Speak English?" She asked but once again got no reply. Setting her pen down calmly Geralyn folded her hands and looked up at her through her lashes. "German?"
Still no response and now she was getting frustrated. "Look, I am have a really rough night. And there's a flask in that bag with my name written all over it. And if you'll humor me, I might be up to sharing"
The man, distrustful of the strange woman, kept his hand on his gun but riffled through the purse and pulled out a steel flash that sounded of booze sloshing about inside.
"Much Obliged." She approached him and reached out her hand but he held it from her reach a moment, unscrewing the cap and sniffing it and making Geralyn roll her eyes.
"Come on what am I going to keep in there, battery acid? It's just Jack Daniels." The man frowned but passed the flask off to Geralyn who took a small sip of the strong liquor and shuttered a little.
"Thanks." She nodded and sauntered back over to her desk, sitting on the edge with a bitter expression.
"So, what's the plan should I try to escape?" she inquired casually, "Am I to assume the old man has ordered me to be shot?"
"No harm is to come to you, and you're to remain either with him or in here." The man finally found his voice and Geralyn scoffed with a jaded smirk.
"Really?" she shook her head and turned the metal flask over in her palm. "How sentimental of him."
"You know…" the man took the flask offered to him, "You really shouldn't talk about your husband that way. Even if you do hate him."
"Hmm" Geralyn smiled a little with a gentle chuckle, "my apologies, I get bitchy when I'm being held hostage. A personal flaw I'm working on." She rested her head on her palm, and looked at him up and down.
He was a little younger than she, with long brown hair and a tan completion, wearing a blue turtle neck.
"What's your name?" She asked and he passed back the flask. She sat it on the table and made for another cigarette which the man was quick to offer a light for. "Thanks"
"Fritz." The man grumbled in response to her question and she nodded, taking a long drag from the cigarette thoughtfully.
"You smoke Fritz?" she cordially offered a cigarette from the silver case and the man pulled out a pack of his own.
"I've got it covered."
"Tell me Fritz, do you always spend your Christmas Eves committing felonies or is this just a special occasion." Fritz growled and Geralyn tittered at his angry response. "Oooh, not very friendly then. Very well."
She sat in her chair and leaned back with a tired simper, "I'm content to pass the evening in silence."
Fritz eyed her curiously as she propped her legs on the desk and crossed them casually, the smoking cig dangling between her fingers as she gazed longingly out the giant glass window and into the night.
She had a melancholy air about her, like a person strolling through a garden but all the flowers were dead.
Despite her hard, stony features, the vibe she gave off was not at all unwelcoming, or unkind.
In fact it seemed almost the exact opposite, as if she actually desperately wanted someone to show her even a little compassion but had gone so long without it that she was afraid to ask.
"Didn't your mother ever tell you it's rude to stare?" her low voice cut through the silence as she cast her eyes to his still soundless reflection in the window pane with a small, knowing smirk spreading across her faded red lips.
"You're wondering something." She stated and took another sip from the flask, "you can go ahead and ask if you like. I'll try not to be offended."
Before he could summon the courage to ask the door burst open. "Fritz, come with me!" Karl bellowed and darted down the hall as the man hesitated a moment before following in silence leaving Geralyn on her own with the door open.
It took the woman a moment to notice this fact but when she did she saw her chance.
Slipping off the heels once again to limit the noise she made she peered out the door and into the hall, the hostages were all too scared to pay attention to her, and Hans was still in the office with the door shut.
She could easily make her way down the hall if she was careful.
She suddenly wished she had kept that letter opener but took a deep breath, summoned her courage, and slowly made her way out the door and down the hall to a metal door marked STAIRS.
Maybe if she could pull a fire alarm or something she could get some help, but she had to be careful that none of Han's goons spotted her either.
She slipped through the door and crept up the stairs delicately, wincing at every creak and moan the steel gave under her weight.
Soon she made it to the inner bowels of the building without issue and she listened closely for any sounds of movement.
The far off echoes of voices made the hairs on her body stand on end and in a desperate panic as the noise grew closer the woman scrambled through a doorway and found herself in the same model hall that Hans had kill Takagi in.
Geralyn made for the meeting room, gagging slightly as the sight of the still splatter blood and closing her eyes.
"Don't move"
Gearlyn froze instantly as a male voice came from behind her, American.
"Put your hands up."
Geralyn obeyed and began to tremble as the heard the click of the safety.
"Please don't kill me." She tried to keep the whimper out of her voice but the thought of death overcame her.
"Turn around, slow."
She did so and found a blood covered man pointed a large machine gun at her, but even so the sight brought her great joy. "Mr. McClane! You got away from the group!"
John's face twisted in confusion, her accent suggested she was German but her joy in seen in met she wasn't with the terrorists. "Who are you?"
"Geralyn Weiss, I work with your wife Holly." The blonde explained, putting her hands down as John lowered the gun.
"How'd you escape?" John asked, as he made for the window and looked out with a hint of desperation.
"I was kept apart from the other hostages, and the man guarding me left the door open so I snuck out." Geralyn explained and took in the sight of the blood on his skin and clothes. "You're hurt!"
John looked down and shrugged "don't worry, not all of it's mine." He looked around, "Look you've gotta get someplace safe…"
"Wait" Geralyn pushed past him and looked out the window, "there's a police car! Maybe we can get its attention!"
Indeed there was a patrol car circling the entry way and they watched it with bated breath.
"Who's driving this guy's car, Stevie Wonder?" John marveled as it took another lap before stopping. "Do these windows open?" he felt the border of the windows for any hinges or handles "maybe we can throw something out to get his attention."
"No, tinted and sealed" Geralyn shook her head and John nodded before taking a few steps back.
"Okay…okay." He looked around before grabbing a wooden chair. "Stand back." Geralyn did as ordered and stumbled back as with a mighty roar John attacked the pane with the chair, causing it to shatter in a web like pattern but not fully break.
"Shit" Geralyn curse and looked around as John continued to assault the glass. But it was working, or would have worked has they not been stopped by the sound of running toward the room.
John put down the chair and within seconds a Man with a gun entered and John turned on him.
In the midst of incomprehensible yelling Geralyn darted to the corner of the room as a second man entered and John shot him down instantly before scrambling under the table.
The remaining man jumped on the long, zigzagging counter, tracking John all the way down it while Geralyn, cast to the side and momentarily forgotten eyed the dead stranger and his still half loaded hand gun.
Without thinking she snatched it up, holding it with a firm grip and tried to level out her trembling arm as she aimed for the laughing, black haired man on the table.
"Hey!" She barked and he turned around to look at her the instant she fired and the man fell hard.
Geralyn's trembling shot had missed and hit the wall behind him but her distraction gave John the perfect opportunity to riddle him with bullets through the table.
Geralyn let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding and dropped the hand gun as John ran to the window and looked out at the cop who was walking back to his car. "For the love of…"
He looked back and growled, stalking back to the dead body.
"What are you doing?" Geralyn asked as John gripped the newly dead body by his clothes.
"Trust me." John dragged the corpus to the window and gracelessly threw it out, and directly on the Patrol car, causing it to squeal and drive erratically in reverse.
"Welcome to the party pal!" John cried over a barrage of gun fire that filled the air from other windows.
"Oh dear Christ." Geralyn covered her mouth at the carnage. "Mary mother of God!"
"Pray later" John growled, "And help me out here…"
"All of you relax! This just a matter of inconvenient timing that's all, police action was inevitable…And as it would happen necessary."
Honestly, part of Hans was a nervous wreck, Geralyn had slipped out of her office unnoticed and was somewhere in the building alone.
Even if he had ordered no harm to come to her, one of his men still could have mistaken her for a hostage and killed her.
Or she could have met with this party-crasher and gotten killed that way.
Either way a good fifty percent of the scenarios in his head ended with her on the floor in a pool of blood, and it was driving him mad, even if he didn't show it.
"Let them Fumble about outside, and stay calm this is only the beginning."
The radio crackled and Hans practically dove for it. "I told you all I wanted radio silence…!"
"Oh I'm very sorry Hans." A strange voice mocked over the radio and Hans froze. "I must have missed the memo, should have put it on the bulletin board or something."
Police cars surrounded the building and Geralyn smoked a cigarette to celebrate with John, sitting on the table.
The nicotine calmed her nerves and she passed the cig to John.
"So what can you tell me about these guys?" John asked and Geralyn shrugged.
"Not much, I only know one of them. And even that's one too many."
"Which one?"
"Hans." She spat and glared at the air.
"Why were you being kept away from the other hostages?" John asked curiously and Geralyn sighed bitterly.
"It's sort of a long story, but suffice to say that Hans and I have a bit of a long history and he wanted to keep a close eye on me."
"Look Lady, whatever history you have with this guy might be important. If you know something you gotta tell me, this is no time to be fucking shy."
Geralyn nodded in agreement, conceding that she shouldn't hold anything back. "You're right, I'm sorry. Hans is my soon to be ex-husband, I filed for divorce last week. As for what you need to know about him, He's dangerous, ruthless, and a right bastard who'll do whatever it takes to get what he wants."
John scoffed and took a drag from the cig, "Sounds like a stand up guy."
Geralyn looked him over and sighed. "There's a bathroom over there, I'm going to get some paper towels and water and clean up your shoulder and arms." She stood and sauntered as and John took up the radio he stole.
Hans was quick to start barking and John laughed a little at the aptness of Geralyn's summation.
"Oh I'm very sorry Hans." He cooed teasingly. "I didn't get that message, should have put it on the bulletin board or something."
There was a pause over the radio and John went on as Geralyn returned with a wet pad of paper towels and began to nurse his wound with little bedside manner.
"I figured since I waxed Tony and Marco and his friend here, I figured you and Karl and Franco might be lonely so I wanted to give you a call."
Geralyn realized who he was talking to and held her breath for a moment before swallowing hard.
"That's very kind of you." Hans responded after a pause "I assume you are our mysterious party crasher. You are most troublesome for a security guard."
"Eeeh. Wrong answer Hans, would you like to go for double Jeopardy where the scores and really change?" John jerked and hissed slightly as his wounds were cleansed and Geralyn growled and tapped his shoulder.
"Stop fidgeting." She grumbled and John shot up to ravage through the dead man's pockets.
"Who are you then?" Hans demanded and Geralyn began to go through the man's bag.
"Just the fly in the ointment Hans, the monkey in the wrench, the pain in the ass." John glanced over at Geralyn who had stopped dead in her tracks and was holding a yellow brick labeled C4.
"Whoa."
The radio crackled off and Geralyn felt a knot of dread in her stomach at the sight of the explosives.
"Look…uh…whatever your name is." John eyed her, "I think it'd be best for both of us if you found a safe place to hide out for a while."
"But wha…" Geralyn began to protest until the radio snapped on again.
"Mr. Mystery Guest? Are you still there?" Hans asked and John raise the radio up slowly.
"Yeah I'm still here. Unless you want to open the front door for me." John passed Geralyn a hand gun and motioned for her to follow him as he and Hans bantered back and forth.
"Do you really think you stand a chance against us, Mr. Cowboy?" Hans spat and John grinned while pushing through a door at the sound of the elevator dinging once again.
"Yippee-ki-yay Motherfucker." John snickered and turned off the radio and glanced at Geralyn who frowned.
"You shouldn't taunt him like that, the only reason I get away with it is because we know each other. He's going to want your blood now."
"He already does sweetheart." John sighed before going silent at the sound of foot fall in the other room. "This way, quickly."