Finally! Here's the fifth and final chapter! Hope you all enjoy. And thank you for reading!
Hans moves briskly towards the large office window. Bringing the radio up towards his lips.
"They're coming. Everyone get ready..Theo, you are the eyes now"
Eddie hurries throughout the floor. Turning the one switch to bring all security gates down. Meanwhile, Uli takes his position behind the display case. stocked with sweets. In no time flat, SWAT storm the Plaza. Their spotlights so intense, the haze from the heat could be seen in the chilly December air. Theo tracked their movements intently.
"Alright, guys. Listen up (exhaling sharply)..T'was the night before Christmas. And all through the house, not a creature was stirring...except..four assholes comin' in the rare 'an standard"
Uli gives the signal to Eddie. Thus, signaling the snipers on the roof to take the squad out. In the process, they manage to take out 2 of the high intensity spotlights. The Deputy Chief panics. Turning to the pompous SWAT leader in hopes of rational thinking.
"They're sittin' ducks out there! Get 'em back!"
"Relax (giving a haughty-like chuckle. Pressing the button on his radio) send in the car"
A blinding stream of white light fills the streets. As a heavily armored tank trudged through. The men attempting to break the entrance doors are injured with gunfire from both Uli and Eddie. Meanwhile, Alexander and his assistant, James. Swiftly transport a missile launcher towards the large bay window. Wasting no time to set it up.
"Schnell..los!"
Alexander commands. Pushing the massive wheeled crate onward. A missile is carefully set in place.
"Ja! Ich sehe ihn!"
The henchman shouts. Observing the approaching tank through a pair of binoculars. James sets his sights.
"Ready?"
The tank is now a prime target. Hung up on the Plaza's stairway entrance.
"Fire!"
The armored vehicle lit up like a Christmas tree. Exploding into a ball of fire.
"Ooooh, 'an the quarterback is toast!"
Theo gleefully proclaimed through his headset. The police left reeling. Hans carefully monitors the situation and state of the tank. Suddenly, drawing his bottom lip inward as he suffers through another contraction. He takes a deep breath, exhaling somewhat shakily. Gruber holds the button on the radio.
"Hit it again"
Immediately, the line is overwhelmed by the frenzied shouting of McClane.
"Hans, you mother fucker. You made your point! Now pull back!"
The terrorist leader simply smirked.
"Thank you, Mr. Cowboy. I'll keep that under advisement. Hit it again"
Once more, the tank explodes into a raging fireball. Thinking quickly, McClane straps a brick of C4 and a computer to a wheeled office chair. Pushing it towards the cavernous shaft of the elevator.
"Geronimo, mother fucker!"
Watching as the mass plunges into the darkness. Within seconds, it had obliterated the entire floor. Blowing out windows and crumbling the infrastructures. Before long, a massive surge of flames shot up the shaft. The intense heat was enough to singe brow hair. McClane's eyes widened in shock, realizing the gravity of the situation and slight miscalculation. He jumps back just as the hellfire ripped through.
Karl rushes to the office.
"They're shooting artillery at us!"
He anxiously informs Hans. The fatigued German makes his way, albeit slowly, back towards the office chair and sits down. Relieved to take at least a tiny bit of pressure off his back.
"You idiot (he scoffs) it isn't the police that are firing...it's him"
Outside, the Plaza resembled a war zone. Plumes of dust and smoke, destruction and chaos surrounding them. All the police and media could do was stand in stunned silence. However, the latter wasn't as concerned with the welfare of others, so much as they were with capturing the perfect story to sell.
"My God..tell me you got that"
As the hostages remain in their place, like an obedient herd of cattle. Holly glances over, alarmed, to see Ellis sniffling and wiping at his nose with his arm.
"What are you doing?!"
She growled under her breath.
"Tired of sittin' here, waitin' to see who gets us killed first. Them or your husband"
Holly is left annoyed and unimpressed as the sleaze tries to convince her he can strike some sort of deal with the terrorists.
"Babe, I negotiate million dollar deals for breakfast. You don't think I could handle a piece of Euro trash?"
With that, the brazen coke addict foolishly confronts the henchmen. His collar a mess and hair now disheveled.
"Hey, Sprechen sie talk?"
"If he listened to me he would've been neutralized already"
Hans exasperatedly argued with Karl. Suddenly, a sharp knock catches the Germans attention. Ellis standing in the doorway.
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything"
"What does he want?"
Gruber's vexation reaching its peak. Ellis smirked and ran a hand through the messy mop of brown hair.
"It's not what I want. It's what I could give you"
Immediately, Karl turns to face Hans. His hand migrating towards the pistol at his hip. Gruber lightly shakes his head as a nonverbal cue to the henchman that the gun wasn't necessary, yet. Fritz is now the coke fiend's shadow. Machine gun at the ready, as he kept pace behind him.
Ellis ventured further into the room. Completely in a drug induced fantasy, that he was actually striking a deal with clients. The criminal side was merely an oversight.
"It's obvious you're not just some dumb schmuck here to snatch a few purses. Am I right?"
Ellis, excessively using his hands to do a majority of the talking.
"You're very astute"
Gruber responds sardonically.
"Ahh, I watch 60 Minutes 'an I say to myself. This guy's a professional, motivated..personally, I couldn't care less about your politics. Pissed off camel jockeys, Heebs, its none of my business. We're here to negotiate, right?"
"It's amazing you figured this out all on your own" (tone still dripping in sarcasm)
"Eh, its business. You use a gun, I use a fountain pen. What's the difference?"
"I must've missed 60 Minutes"
Ellis then takes a seat in front of the terrorist leader. Cracking an obnoxious grin.
"Point is. I can give him to you"
As John sat on the cold, hard ground. He retrieved the photo from his billfold. Something that truly gave him hope. Inadvertently finding himself talking to it, until the familiar crackling of the radio robbed him of his focus.
"That's touching, Mr. Cowboy (Hans' unabated sarcasm broke through)..or, should I say, John McClane? Of the New York police department (John's heart was now in his throat)..There's someone that wants to talk to you. A very special friend"
He then hands the walkie talkie over to Ellis.
"Heeey, Johnny"
"Ellis?"
"Now, listen, John. Gimme a few minutes to talk some sense into ya. I know you think you're doin' right. But you're just draggin' this out. Just let the LAPD handle this from here on out, capisce?"
John stood there. Stunned. Not exactly sure what to say next. He nervously inquires.
"Ellis, what did you tell them?"
"That we're friends. Met at the party-
"- Ellis, you shouldn't be doing this!"
"Tell me about it"
However, unfortunately for Ellis, the facade was slipping. Showboating would get him nowhere. Another painful contraction struck the German, only this time, his primary focus was elsewhere. It was McClane's yelling into the radio, renouncing their friendship, that sealed the fate of the arrogant addict. Fear now plastered across his face. He nervously drank the glass of Cola, as Hans smirked. Raising his pistol.
All John could do was sit there helplessly, as a sharp gunshot rang out. Panic, again erupting amongst the crowds of hostages. Hans raises the radio towards the screams.
"Hear that! (he growls) now, give me my detonators!"
"Attention police"
Hans' voice broke through. Completely catching the Chief off guard. He snatches the radio from Powell.
"This' Deputy-Chief, Dwayne Roberts. Who is this?"
"This' Hans Gruber. Its obvious with your direct action against me, you wish for no further loss of life"
"Well, uh, what is it you do wish for, Mr. Gruber?"
Hans took the opportunistic moment to spin the oblivious cop a yarn.
"I have comrades in arms around the world. The following are to be released from their captors"
He proceeded in rattling off different fictional members from around the globe. As well as his plan to take the hostages to the roof and accompany them on helicopter, to the LA International Airport and await for further instructions. That should keep them busy, for the time being. He checks on Theo.
"One more to go. You better be right. This last one is gonna take a miracle"
"It's Christmas, Theo. Its a time for miracles. Call me when you've got it...preferably *before* my daughter arrives"
Despite the birth possibly within the next hour. Gruber was growing frustrated with the stagnancy. Making the bold move to take matters into his own hands. He slowly maneuvers through the narrow pathway. Shining a light in a hopeful attempt to see past the thick steam. The wires overhead, thankfully undisturbed.
Keeping his pistol by his side. Inspecting, what he now discovered, were useless severed wires. He sighs and very cautiously, eases himself down onto the roof. However, in the process of getting to his feet. Does he notice he isn't alone. Coming face to face with the barrel of an SMG.
"Hi there"
McClane smirked as the German's eyes grew to the size of saucers. Also taking note the "hostage", was heavily pregnant.
"How ya doin'?"
Once again, thinking quickly. Gruber went full theatrics. Even complete with a convincing American accent. Cowardly crawling backwards.
"No, please...God no..you're one of them, aren't you? You're one of them..uh, don't shoot. My baby, she's coming..don't shoot, please, please.."
He whimpers. Suddenly, another contraction struck without warning. Nearly knocking the wind out of him.
"I'm not gonna hurt you!"
McClane's voice boomed. He wanted to question the distressed man further, however, that would be borderline sadistic, seeing as he was very clearly close to giving birth. He sighs heavily and sets the machine gun aside. Lowering himself and sitting back on his haunches, now both were level.
"Gonna help ya, alright? We need 'tah remove your pants so she isn't obstructed, okay?"
It was awkward and uncomfortable beyond belief. Unfortunately, he couldn't get to his pistol-as doing so would appear too conspicuous, he just had to be patient and hope it worked in his favor. Be that as it may, Gruber attempted to keep up the charade, so was not to blow his cover until absolutely necessary. The German's trousers were removed. McClane chuckled softly.
"Kinda funny. All my years on the force, this' my first time deliverin' 'ah baby..I'm John, by the way. McClane"
Hans broke from his deep breathing. He couldn't believe his luck. He begins frantically recalling the directory board.
"Clay..Bill"
With nothing to check concerning the veracity of Hans' reply. The German was in the free and clear. Another merciless contraction tore through. He slammed his eyes shut, suddenly feeling a dampness between his legs.
"Your water broke. I can see the head, just 'ah few more pushes"
Hot tears stung at his eyes, he was so exhausted. But their perfect escape was now a reality. Another contraction, furthering her along. The German grits his teeth. It was this contraction, that ultimately succeeded in passing her shoulders. He cries in agony.
"It's okay, Bill. I'm gonna grab her shoulders 'an pull her the rest of the way, alright? You just sit tight"
Wearily he nods his head. Gingerly, McClane takes hold. Delicately guiding the baby girl along until she was completely free of her father. Apart from the umbilical cord that connected them. A sudden, shrill wail of a newborn is heard.
McClane quickly bundled her in Gruber's lavish Italian suit jacket. Severing the cord with a small knife from his side pocket. Hans couldn't help but feel choked up, she was absolutely perfect.
"Congrats, Bill. She's a beaut"
McClane beamed. He brought his daughter close to his chest. Shushing her gently, delicately stroking the downy wisps of light brown hair. Finally opening her eyes, revealing a breathtaking blue. Just like her mother. Through all the death and destruction, finally holding his daughter in his arms. Melted the infamous leader's heart. Through what little energy remained, he slipped his slacks back on. Slowly getting to his feet.
"Woah, you sure about that? Ya just gave birth"
John states incredulously. Gruber gives a sharp sigh. Making his way over to the far end, near the helipad. In the process, checking to see if the pistol was still at his hip. Carefully reaching for the radio strapped to his belt.
"Das Dach. Komm sofort"
Hans signals to his remaining henchmen. Attempting to balance his newborn in one arm and aiming a loaded pistol with the other.
"Well, well, well. Hans'
John smirked.
"Give me my detonators"
The German demands. All McClane could do was laugh.
"After all I did tah help ya? This' the thanks I get?"
He responds in a wiseacre tone. Hans gives an exasperated sigh, this man was truly insufferable. He cocks the pistol.
"There is..one last thing to show my token of gratitude"
With that. He takes out McClane's kneecap. The noise triggering the newborn to start crying, as the poor cop now lie completely helpless and in agony on the cold ground.
"Mother fucker, you paralyzed me!"
"Mr. McClane, there's a small child present.. language"
He smiles down at his fussy newborn. Gently shushing her asleep.
"Call us Santa, baby. Comin' your way with 640 mil fat sacks!"
Theo jubilantly declares over the radio. Hans grins. This couldn't have ended more perfectly. The roar of helicopter blades whirled loudly overhead. Gruber squints towards the beam of light, walking towards the chopper.
"On second thought, McClane. Keep the detonators. They're of no use to me now"
Karl, Fritz, and Theo soon join their leader. Bags of cash being tossed into other awaiting helicopters. Karl helps Gruber aboard. The baby held protectively close to her father's chest. As Fritz and Theo board an MD, and Karl settles himself in the front.
Gruber looks over at John, one last time. Adjusting the suit to shield his daughter's tiny face from the cold. He chuckles.
"Well, McClane. It's...been fun.. Auf Wiedersehen"