The next morning, Dimitri met Angela in the hallway, cupping a coffee mug
in between his half-frozen hands. He'd changed into a slightly less street
and more city-boy look today, with his dark brown button up cuffed shirt
and his black slacks, with his gray Chucks to liven it up a little toward
his actual age. "Hey, um, Angela, can I talk to you about something? I
brought you some coffee if you're not awake yet or something, I hope you
like it black." She studied him expressionlessly. "Well, Dimitri, I assure
you my early-morning workout has found me more than awake but I would like
some coffee, and yes, I do prefer it black." He nodded, taking this in
rather stupidly, and walked her into her own office.
"So your father was Hans Gruber, right? German, I presume." "True." She said quietly, facing him politely as she sipped her coffee. "My brother knew him. Actually, both of them did. One was killed in the Nakatomi bombing, and Fritz died trying to get revenge on the guy who did it." Angela smiled behind her cup. "Ah, yes, now I remember Fritz. He had quite a temper, that used to grate my father's nerves, but it was well-suited when it came to the physical part of the plan. And your other brother-" "Dane." "Yes, he was very quiet, but very sweet. He treated me like a princess, which is why my father liked him."
She could feel herself becoming weak and nostalgic as he continued. "Do you remember how they died?" "N-no." She said, coughing the words. "I lost my father the same night, when I was sixteen. I've raised myself since then, except for his other followers not on that mission, who've become my security." "So what are you going to do about it?" he said. The questions grew more prying by the minute. "I'd like to find the guy who did it, some American cop. His name is John McCaine. He's got an attitude, and being on the force obviously gave him great skill in hiding and attacking at the proper times." She felt like she was betraying her father's memory with this true statement, as if she was praising his accomplishments that night. "I think my father had kidnapped his wife or kids or something, as a ditch effort to hold him off long enough in order to get away with the money. Of course, McCaine was smarter than he thought. So evidently the only way out was down." Her voice broke and she threw her femininely-muscular arms up.
She was surprised to feel Dimitri wrap his strong arms around her, holding her closer and closer to his body heat. He hadn't done any training yet for today; she couldn't miss his scent through the usual sweat. "Are you gonna be okay? I mean, if you don't want to talk about it." If only the poor fool knew how long she'd needed to talk about it-well , perhaps he was worth a shot. He reminded her of Dane, with Fritz's strength. Yet as he rocked her back as forth slowly he was gentle-like her father. Yes, he was worth a chance.
"So your father was Hans Gruber, right? German, I presume." "True." She said quietly, facing him politely as she sipped her coffee. "My brother knew him. Actually, both of them did. One was killed in the Nakatomi bombing, and Fritz died trying to get revenge on the guy who did it." Angela smiled behind her cup. "Ah, yes, now I remember Fritz. He had quite a temper, that used to grate my father's nerves, but it was well-suited when it came to the physical part of the plan. And your other brother-" "Dane." "Yes, he was very quiet, but very sweet. He treated me like a princess, which is why my father liked him."
She could feel herself becoming weak and nostalgic as he continued. "Do you remember how they died?" "N-no." She said, coughing the words. "I lost my father the same night, when I was sixteen. I've raised myself since then, except for his other followers not on that mission, who've become my security." "So what are you going to do about it?" he said. The questions grew more prying by the minute. "I'd like to find the guy who did it, some American cop. His name is John McCaine. He's got an attitude, and being on the force obviously gave him great skill in hiding and attacking at the proper times." She felt like she was betraying her father's memory with this true statement, as if she was praising his accomplishments that night. "I think my father had kidnapped his wife or kids or something, as a ditch effort to hold him off long enough in order to get away with the money. Of course, McCaine was smarter than he thought. So evidently the only way out was down." Her voice broke and she threw her femininely-muscular arms up.
She was surprised to feel Dimitri wrap his strong arms around her, holding her closer and closer to his body heat. He hadn't done any training yet for today; she couldn't miss his scent through the usual sweat. "Are you gonna be okay? I mean, if you don't want to talk about it." If only the poor fool knew how long she'd needed to talk about it-well , perhaps he was worth a shot. He reminded her of Dane, with Fritz's strength. Yet as he rocked her back as forth slowly he was gentle-like her father. Yes, he was worth a chance.
