Hoping to cover more ground. Marco, Fritz, and Karl all begin a manhunt for McClane. Karl was out for blood. Unfortunately for John, his mayday for help to emergency services was also annexed by the German's walkie-talkie. Hans' eyes widen as he realizes the golden opportunity they had inadvertently stumbled across. His mouth slightly agape with surprise.

"The roof! Go! Go!"

He orders his men. One by one they depart the room, guns at the ready. Despite John's efforts, the dispatchers continued believing it was a crank call. lambasting him for using an emergency channel. Swearing until he was red in the face. Suddenly, gunfire rang out from above him. One of the woman dispatcher's soughed, to humor McClaine, however, they radioed nearby Sergent Powell to investigate. The rotund man grumbled in discontent as his hopes to rip open his bag of gas station snack cakes had been interrupted. Regardless, he decides to head over towards the Plaza.

McClane diving behind countless structures and railings of the helipad marked roof. bullets whizzing past his head. Suddenly, he spots the door leading to the ventilation fan. With absolute precision, he shoots out the latch and ducks inside. Hans' henchman follow close behind, using his pistol as a wedge, he eased himself carefully through the large blades.

Just then, he heard the metallic ping as bullets ricocheted off the metal. His foot nearly escaping injury as he heaved over on the other side. Getting to his feet swiftly, he rushes down the steel catwalk. Karl and Fritz are closing in on him. He nears a grated panel, knocking it out with the butt of his requisitioned SMG. Fritz quickly radios Hans.

"Er ist im Aufzugsschacht! Hast du mich gehört?"

"Perfect (Hans finally responds. Without warning, another contraction tore through the poor, fatigued German. He clenches his teeth through the pain.)..the police will be here soon. I can stall them, but not for long. Elevators are closed off. Lock him in and come back quickly!"

McClane braces the gun, as yet another wedge. Shimming down the shoulder strap of the elevator shaft. Meanwhile, the last of Hans' patience, strength, and sanity was being tested. As if having some rogue cop meddle in their plans wasn't bad enough. It seemed his daughter wasn't going to hold out for much longer. In fact, instinct was telling him it may very well be within the next couple hours.

McClane was about halfway down when the gun lost its holding. The man's heart leapt in his throat, feeling himself free fall briefly until he was able to thankfully cling onto the duct opening beneath it. From there, he begins his decent, feeling as though he were back home in a crowded subway, he slowly crawled along.

The commotion alerted the Germans, they race towards the floor. Karl's eyes fixed upon the air duct above him. He fires off several rounds, a bullet missing McClane by a couple inches. The blonde walks along the length of the ducting, prodding it with his muzzle of his gun. John froze, holding his breath anxiously as he continued watching through the slats in the vent. Directing his pistol downwards, ready at any moment to fire. Suddenly, Fritz rushed over to him, this in turn, thankfully pulling Karl's attention away.

He finds himself back in Takagi's office. His remnants still splattered across the glass panels and floor. He moves hastily towards the large bay window and peers down perplexed as a patrol car aimlessly circles the drive. Hans radios down to Eddie- to be ready to put on his facade as soon as he greeted the cop. As soon as he released the button, Grubber was hit with yet another merciless wave of pain. He grips the desk, trying his best to convince his brain to focus on something other than the pain.

"Evenin' officer. What can I do for ya?"

In a fruitless effort to alert the Sargent with a chair shattering the window pane. This, unfortunately, also attracted the attention of one of Gruber's sniper's on the roof. He swiftly radios Heinrich (in the midst of finishing the wiring for the explosives). He signals down to Marco.

"Achtung! Vierunddreißig! Schnell! Schnell!"

Eddie feigning interest in a football game, all-the-while keeping a watchful eye on Powell. Marco races towards the boardroom. No sooner had he stepped foot through the doorway, McClane was right there. A pistol pointed towards him, screaming to put his gun down. Caught up in the moment, but refusing to comply. He pulled the trigger. However, it was Heinrich to suffer the fatal bullet when he emerged suddenly behind his fellow henchman, Marco ducked.

Immediately scrambling up onto the zigzag row of tables. Meanwhile, back down at the lobby. Powell ceded it was nothing but a goose chase and departs. Marco cocks the automatic, firing rapid shot after shot. Plumes of wood dust explode with each round. He neared the end of the last table. Laughing madly as he reloads.

"Whaddya gonna do? You've run outta cover, asshole"

The henchman exclaimed arrogantly. John smirked and sent several rounds of hot lead through the table and ultimately, into Marco. He collapsed instantly. In a last-ditch effort to attract the Sargent's attention, McClane struggles to heave Marco's body out the broken window, onto the patrol car's hood below. It isn't long before the Plaza is swarmed with LAPD.

"All of you relax. This' just a matter of inconvenient timing, that's all. This action was inevitable"

Hans addressed the room full of hostages behind an office desk. Suddenly, he grits his teeth, feeling another wave overtake him. He rubs his stomach in a hopeful effort the baby would settle down. Turning away momentarily, speaking under his breath softly.

"Beruhigen schatz"