Hearing the sudden crackling of the walkie-talkie. He hastily plucks it off the desk.

"I thought I told all of you I want radio silence until further not-"

"-Ooh sorry, Hans. I didn't get that message. Shoulda put it on the bulletin board. Since I waxed Tony, 'an Marco, and his friend here. Figured you, Karl, and Franco might be a 'lil lonely. So I wanted to give ya a call"

"How does he know so much about u-?" (Franco anxiously inquires).

"Shh"

Hans interjected softly with a hand waving out towards the henchman. He was thankful, for the moment, at least. His endorphins had seemingly reached their peak and dampened at least some of the labor pains. However, it by no means meant they halted them completely. The Calm before the Storm, as Gruber aptly labeled it.

"That's very kind of you. So you're our mysterious party guest. You're most troublesome...for a security guard"

"EHH (McClane, with a mix of obnoxious and harshness. Uttered into the speaker).sorry Hans, wrong guess. Would ya like 'tah go for Double Jeopardy where the scores can really change?"

Whilst waiting for a response. John scours Heinrich's body for anything of value. Finding a small blue pack of foreign cigarettes. He hastily pops one between his lips and continues searching.

"Who are you th.."

The German's words are cut off suddenly by an unanticipated wave, even worse than before. Involuntarily letting out a sharp hiss, loud enough for McClane to hear.

"Oooh, sounds like labor pains, Hans. Y'know, if ya weren't holdin' 30 innocent people hostage right now. I'd call ya an ambulance"

The terrorist leader's heart leapt into his throat. How in the world did he know? McClane rummaged through Heinrich's pants pocket. Producing several detonators and a C-4 block. The German swiftly attempted to compose himself as if nothing ever happened. Turning his attention to Karl, Fritz, and Franco.

"Check on all the others. Don't use the radio, see if he's lyin' about Marco and find out if anyone else is missing!"

"Mystery guest..are you still there?"

John continued aimlessly roaming the room. Taking a long drag from his cigarette, and remaining vigilant of possible threats hidden in the shadows.

"Yeah, I'm still here. If you wanna open the front door for me"

He mumbled into the radio. Gruber was inclined to prod him for answers surrounding his apparent clairvoyance in relation to his pregnancy. However, he didn't want to run the risk of exposing too much of his identity. So it was best to ignore it for the time being.

"I'm afraid not. But you have me at a loss. You know my name, but who are you? Just another American that saw too many movies as a child? Another orphan of a bankrupt culture..(he releases the button quickly. Feeling his muscles painfully contract once more. Feeling as though his teeth were soon going to be worn to the roots. He breathes in and out, slow and deep)..that thinks he's John Wayne, Rambo, Marshal Dillon?"

"Kinda partial to Roy Rogers, actually. Really like those sequin shirts"

McClane responds, a certain facetiousness to his tone. If he wasn't so preoccupied with the intervals of contractions, whilst keeping a watchful eye on the hostages. He had half a mind to track the cocky New Yorker down himself and strangle him with his bare hands. But for now, he had to stay the course.

"You really think you have a chance against us, Mr. Cowboy?"

As John had his back to the door. He heard the distinct ding of the elevator on the other end. Karl and Franco would be rushing out at any moment. He opens the door leading out to the hall, a cockeyed smirk gracing his face.

"Yippee ki-yay, mother fucker"

News of the hostage situation at the Plaza spread like wildfire. Stations and anchors alike, battling for the chance to reign supreme in being one of the firsts to cover it. The henchmen race towards the office room. Absolute panic etched onto their faces.

"He wasn't lyin' about Marco".. (came Karl's voice suddenly).."He's down in the street". Franco added.

"The other man was Heinrich. And his bag is missing"

Hans felt a wave of absolute dread overtake him. "The detonators!" he exclaimed, yet, with every fiber of his being, tried hiding the fear from his men. A strong kick from the baby had him impetuously gripping the arms of the chair. Truly astounded they didn't snap like a twig under the immense pressure. His mind a whirlwind, he radios Theo.

"Yo"

The nearsighted young man shouted into the device. However, making himself heard over the incessant loud drilling and shrill of the alarms, was almost as difficult as breaking into the safe itself.

"We may have a problem..how's your schedule?"

The hacker immediately references the computer screen displaying all 7 locks.

"Four down..three to go"

"Don't waste time"

No sooner was he about to set the radio back down, did they have a rare stroke of luck. Signals must have interfered, and the Sargent's voice crystal clear for the remaining terrorists to hang on. There was still hope. Fear, once again, having a death grip over Franco.

"We hafta do something! He'll ruin everything!"

Hans gives an agitated heavy sigh.

"Wait until the FBI comes. 'Til then, he can waste as much time as he likes, but..(he pauses as his nails dig deeper into cheap, black leather)..we must find the bag!"

Chaos erupting outside as police, incoming news crew vans, and SWAT litter the building. Fritz set a small TV on a nearby table. Flicking up the antenna and tuning to the latest updates from the station. Hans feverishly jots and makes alterations to work around the plan, thus, with any luck could still be executed successfully. He was so engrossed, in fact, he failed to notice Holly approach him.

"I have a request"

Without looking up. He continued with his writing. At least it gave him something else to channel the labor pains into. He growls under his breath.

"What idiot put you in charge?"

"You did (Hans narrowly escaping whiplash as his head snapped up)..when you murdered my boss. Now everyone is lookin' at me. Personally I'd pass on the job. I don't enjoy being this close to you"

Hans smirked and settled back in the chair.

"Go on.."

"We have a pregnant man out there..'an sitting on that rock isn't doing his back much good. So I would like permission to move him from the offices where there's a sofa"

"As am I.. he'll live..maybe"