DIE HARD: THIRD STRIKE DIE HARD: THIRD STRIKE

CHAPTER THREE
The taxi pulled into the school's parking lot. John opened the door and hurried toward the front door of the school. Before he got there, though, he heard two voices speaking in German behind him. He turned and saw that one of them had a 2-way radio and was speaking into it. The other added comments along the way. John followed them until they entered a Ford F-150 pick-up truck.
Simon Gruber was listening on the other line and replied in German. "Frank, I want you and James to keep an eye on things. Mark will be watching from up on the roof. Remember, if something goes wrong, tell me and I'll tell Anthony and Peter to set the bomb to explode and inform the others to get out of there."
"Okay." Frank Drum turned off the radio and told his comrade, "Keep an eye open."
John crawled up toward their car slowly, staying unnoticed. He couldn't be positive that they were working for Gruber, so he got his gun ready, stood up, and knocked on the door on the driver's side loudly.
"It's McClaine!" James Clayton shouted and pulled a 9mm Uzi out from the glove compartment.
John anticipated that. He bashed the window the second he saw the machine gun being revealed. Shattered glass spread throughout the vehicle. Then John stuck his gun inside the truck and fired at Clayton twice, wounding him in the shoulder. Then John dropped to the ground and rolled underneath the truck before the terrorist could retaliate.
"He got me!" Clayton hollered.
"He's going to pay," Drum assured the wounded soldier, grabbing his own machine gun.
Clayton was the first one to step out of the automobile. As soon as he did, John tackled him by his feet. Clayton fell headfirst onto the cement instantly. The Uzi escaped from Clayton's grasp and slid across the ground. John quickly crawled out from under the truck and pounded his fist on the back of Clayton's head.
Drum came out from the other side and yelled, "You're dead McClaine!"
John glanced up from where he was lying. Then he looked through the bottom of the truck to see Drum's feet so he could tell which way the terrorist was coming around the vehicle. The man hurried up around the front as John had expected him to.
As Drum came around with his Uzi ready, John drew and cocked his Beretta pistol. Then he carefully aimed it toward the corner of the vehicle where Drum was circling around. Drum paused on his trip for several seconds. As John waited, he looked under the truck to make sure Drum was still there. Then Drum circled the corner and saw his adversary with a gun drawn. Quickly, Drum moved back around the front as McClaine got one shot off. The bullet scratched the side of the truck but missed its target.
John rose from the ground with his handgun raised. I've only got three bullets left, he reminded himself. Slowly, he headed away from the terrorists' truck and tried to find better cover. As he did, he kept his weapon trained on the truck Drum was hiding behind. That was when the other terrorist became conscious again.
This was not good. John aimed his weapon at Clayton. "Keep your hands where I can see them!" he shouted, hoping that the other guy would hear him and try to negotiate.
Apparantly neither terrorist was in a negotiating mood. The second Drum heard what John had said, he came out from his hiding place and fired at John with his Uzi. John ducked instantly and got very lucky as the barrage of bullets flew past him. Drum ran out of ammunition quickly and had to reload. After John had fallen down, Clayton took advantage of the opportunity by drawing the Smith & Wesson 1006 he had in his jacket and aiming it at McClaine's head.
John looked up and saw the pistol being pointed at his forehead. He instinctively twirled around across the ground on his back as bullets ricocheted all around him. Thinking quickly, he pointing the gun above his head and took two desperate shots. The first bullet bounced off the ground next to the ticked-off terrorist. The second one hit its target directly with startling accuracy. The bullet carved a deep hole into Clayton's forehead. The man's body fell down to the ground and remained motionless.
John immediately got up, knowing that it doesn't take long to stick a bullet cartridge in an Uzi. Surely enough, Drum had already loaded the machine gun and brought it back out for some more action. John kept his gun raised to his shoulders and ducked behind a Mercedes-Benz. The bullets blasted out from the Uzi again, shredding the car up badly. John had to lie on the ground to keep from being shot. Why don't they make these cars taller? he asked himself.
John had a big problem. He was down to his final bullet and was fighting against a nearly fully-loaded Uzi. He laid his head down on the cement parking lot and kept his eyes open. He saw on the ground thirty feet from him was the dead terrorist's machine gun that had been knocked away. Unfortunately, the car he was taking refuge behind and another vehicle were parked inbetween the two of them. To make matters worse, Drum walked over in its direction and stood only a few inches from it.
John rapidly created a plan. He jumped over the Mercedes without difficulty. Drum saw him in the air and tried to fire, but by the time his weapon was ready, John had made it to the next car. Before Drum had a chance to think, John placed his pistol below the automobile and spent his final bullet nailing Drum in the leg.
Drum hollered out in pain and reached down toward his wound. As he did, John, without any hesitation, flipped over the car and snatched the Uzi from the ground. Before Drum could even pray, John pointed the gun right at the killer's stomach and released a long discharge of bullets. Each bullet ripped through the man's skin like paper and sent blood splattering everywhere. Finally, Drum collapsed to the ground.
John kept the Uzi in his right hand and went back to the other dead savage and took his Smith & Wesson. Hiding the weapon in his clothes, he hurried into the school. They might be setting up the bomb right now, John thought.
Mark Noth, the assassin on top of the roof, looked down and saw McClaine enter the school building. He lifted his communicator to speak to all of the terrorists. "Everyone listen up! This is Mark. It McClaine is here! It looks like he killed Frank and James. Anthony and Peter, set the bomb for 10 minutes. That should give everyone enough time to get out. And will somebody please kill McClaine!"
John gripped the Uzi machine gun tightly. He didn't really know what he'd find. He knew that Von Hilgers and Böhm were explosives experts, so he suspected that they'd be the ones Simon would send to place the bomb.
John took out his cellular phone and called Inspector Cobb. "Walter, the bomb is in Wilson Elementary School," he said informatively.
"What?" Walter asked. "Are you positive?"
"Yeah, it's here. I want a bunch of cops, the bomb squad, and the fire department over here right away."
Walter sighed. "Won't that make Simon get ticked off and blow the school?"
A janitor walked down the hallway slowly, rolling his cleaning equipment along with him. When he saw McClaine, he instantly revealed a Spectre sub-machine gun. Before he could use it, John wasted him with the Uzi.
He returned the telephone to the side of his head. "I'm sure he's already ticked off: I waxed three of his boys. Just do it now!" On that note, he turned off the phone.
John walked around the school, having his gun ready in case of an encounter with terrorists and also preparing to conceal his gun if anyone else walked by him. He opened a door and walked into a stage room. It appeared as if the kids had done some kind of play rehearsal recently. There were props and decorations all over it. The wooden floor on the stage was about a foot tall.
Four terrorists dressed as office workers saw McClaine through the windows on the door and came into the room with their weapons drawn. John twirled around immediately and fired at them with the Uzi. They returned the fire and ducked down in an attempt to stay alive. John blasted one of them and then jumped behind a large arrangement of metal chairs. There were enough to prevent the terrorists from getting a clear shot for the time being.
Then something happened that John didn't expect at all. Gunfire starting raining from above down on him. John looked up to see the hitman Mark Noth standing up on the roof holding an MP5K and pointing it down through the glass right above the New York officer. Noth continued firing as John tried hiding underneath some of the chairs.
Finally, all the bullets shred completely through the giant window and it broke apart. All the broken pieces of glass came crashing down on John. He saw it coming and quickly rolled to the side of the room. He was safe from the broken glass coming from up above on him, but the pieces still bounced off the chairs and cut into his skin. John turned onto his back and shot up at the ceiling. Noth had run out of ammunition and laid down where McClaine could not shoot him as he reloaded his weapon.
The other guys fired, but they couldn't hit their target because John was taking refuge behind a large stack of boxes for props. John lifted the Uzi above the boxes and fired at the terrorists behind him. Then he ran out from his cover and dove behind the stage platform. Not even Noth can shoot me when I'm here, John thought.
"He's behind the stage," one of the terrorists said. "You two circle around and attack him from over there while I go around the other way."
Now John was in trouble. They were going to surround him and then waste him without difficulty. Now he had to figure out how to get out of there. Think, John! Think! He glanced over at the stage and got an idea.
The terrorists came around with their machine guns raised. As they came around, they prepared to fire. However, no one was there. In confusion, they looked around and wondered where he was. They each searched around the area and found nothing.
"I thought we had him cornered," one of them said. "Maybe he jumped onto the stage while we were circling around." Taking his advice, each of them slowly climbed up onto the platform and looked around, but there was no sign of McClaine.
Suddenly, bullets started blasting all over the place. The bullets were coming from underneath the platfrom. Little pieces of wood broke apart from the structure with each shot. Before any of the terrorists realized what was going on, each one had been shot repeatedly and was lying dead on the stage.
Then, John's head came up through the bottom of the thing, breaking a section of the platform. In the silence he said loudly, "Well, I wasn't expect an encore."
Noth had his weapon reloaded and fired again at John. The exhausted police officer jumped across the stage and behind the curtains. He checked the bullet cartridge and found it was empty. Throwing the useless gun away, he pulled out the Smith & Wesson that he stole from the deceased terrorist. Noth kept firing, and his bullets shred through the curtains like a knife through melted butter.
John lifted his handgun and carefully aimed his weapon. He knew that Noth was a great German hitman, so with the man's great position and loaded sub-machine gun, hitting John would not be difficult. John knew he didn't have much time to sit there and aim, so he took his best shot.
The bullet had missed its target: the man's head. However, it had blasted straight through Noth's shoulder. The hitman clasped his shoulder in surprise and accidently dropped his machine gun. John rushed to it and picked it up. Then he shot at Noth until the hitman fell down through the opening in the ceiling. He landed right on a standing chair, and the chair snapped immediately.
John stepped back out into the hallway. He noticed that the walls of the stage room were very thick. They were probably sound-proof so that when a play was being rehearsed in the school, the other children wouldn't be distracted by the noise. That would mean that no one heard the gun shots.
Two terrorists entered the area. One of them saw McClaine and stayed back. The other guy pulled out his Uzi and aimed carefully without John even knowing. The terrorist had the New York police officer's head sighted and pulled slowly back on the trigger.
Two shots went off. The man fell to the ground. John twirled around to see another police officer holding a smoking police pistol. The cop was tall: about 6 feet and 8 inches. There was no emotion at all on his face. There was nothing about him that John saw about him, except that his skin was a very dark black color.
"Thanks for the help," John said. "Who are you?"
"You can call me Inspector Smith," he responded.
The other terrorist came out into the clearing. In his left hand was a little fourth-grade girl. In his right hand was a gun pointed at the child's head. Both John and Inspector Smith moved their weapons so that they pointed at the psycho. No one moved.
"Drop your guns or she dies," the guy said.
John started lowering his Smith & Wesson. "Okay, just don't hurt her."
Inspector Smith's pistol fired. The bullet hit the criminal and killed him instantly. The little girl screamed loudly as the man fell to the floor next to her in a pool of blood. Then she hurried out of the school while continuing her screaming all the way.
John was amazed. "Are you crazy man?" Then he shook his head. "Nevermind. We don't have time to stand here. I'll sound the fire alarm. Make sure everyone is out in time including yourself."
As the inspector did as he was instructed, John set off the fire alarm. All he could do was hope that everyone would get out of there in time. As teachers, the principal, children, and janitors went out of the building in an orderly fashion, John decided to make sure everyone got out safely. He rushed to the evacuated office and spoke over the intercom.
"Hello," he said. "Everyone leave the building calmly and quickly. This is not a drill or a prank."
John figured that would take care of it and headed back out. He wanted to check outside to make sure his kids had gotten out okay, but he wanted to find the bomb. If I were a bomb expert, John asked himself, where would I hide 75 pounds of C-4? It would have to be in a bathroom or closet or some other concealed area.
In a nearby storage room, Von Hilgers and Böhm, the bomb experts, had just finished with the C-4. They placed all of it in a relatively secluded area of the room after setting it to explode in one minute.
"Shouldn't we set it for ten?" Böhm asked.
"No," Von Hilgers replied. "The others have had enough time to get out, so one minute should be enough."
Böhm grabbed the communicator and informed their leader of the current events. "We've finished planting the bomb," he informed Simon. "It took a while because I guess we forgot that so much C-4 would take this long to set up. How is the real plan working out?"
Gruber sighed. "Well, thanks to McClaine, we'll have to start early. Unfortunately, the traffic is bad too. We've informed Felix on the delay."
John, who had been listening behind the door, stumbled into the room with his gun raised. "Keep your hands up!" he hollered, and they obeyed. "Now, disarm the bomb."
Böhm lowered his arms. "What are you going to do: shoot me?" His left hand rose upward. In it, he had a gun. John shot him twice before he could use it. As the cop was busy doing that, Von Hilgers ducked behind equipment and took out his own weapon.
John fired in Von Hilgers' direction and then trained his gun on Böhm. "Where is Gruber?" John asked. "What did you mean by 'the real plan'?"
"Go to hell!" Böhm shouted.
After that, John knew that neither one of them would tell him anything or disarm the bomb for him. He hurried out of the room and locked the door so that Von Hilgers couldn't escape. Then he ran like mad for the nearest exit to the school.
The ground shook tremendously. John felt fire soar past him. The entire acre erupted. The roof of the school was sent up ten feet in the air and landed back down in the flaming mess. Glass from the windows was sent flying out at him. His skin felt like it was boiling from all the heat. A police car flipped over twice in the air and broke into pieces upon impact with the parking lot. In just seconds, though it seemed like hours, all was quiet again.
"McClaine," a cop shouted, "you'll want to see this."
John gazed over to the voice as the officer brought one of Gruber's terrorists over to him. "Okay," John said, "tell me where Gruber is."
"You think I'm going to tell you that?" the restrained criminal replied.
"Did he have anything on him?" John asked the cop who arrested the man.
"Besides his gun, just a watch and this newspaper."
John flipped through the newspaper quickly. He found, on the second page, the name Felix Anders written in pen. Below the name was an article about the United Nations. "Who is Felix Anders?" he asked the scumbag. "What's his connection with the U.N. and Gruber?" Knowing that the guy wouldn't answer, John thought for a minute. Then he rushed into the nearest cop car with keys inside and started the engine.
"Wait!" someone yelled, opening the door and stepping inside. It was Inspector Smith. "This is my car! What are you doing?"
"I have to borrow it," John answered, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road. "What's this thing's top speed?"
"What's the rush?" Inspector Smith asked.
"I've got a hunch," John replied.