Lizzie felt music to her ears when she heard more and more police sirens coming from outside. She sat with her arms tied to her sides as she sat in a chair in front of Hans' desk. He had come back, going wild about some 'detonators'. Hans remained calm despite all his goons being in the room panicking out of their minds that the police had arrived.

"Everyone remain calm. Police were unavoidable," Hans told them.

Lizzie was surprised that the goons were somewhat convinced and concern slowly drained from their faces. Hans continued ordering them to find the 'detonators' and the so-called 'mystery guest'. She needed to get back on one of the radios and contact him somehow. He had clearly been watching them from afar, but she could possibly give him more information. Once most of the goons left the room to follow orders, Hans glanced out the window and then at Lizzie.

"You seem calmer than my men. Surprising."

"Is it?"

"I'd expect you to be completely devastated," he said, slightly smirking.

"Well, give it a few minutes. Being this close to you is making me sick by the minute," she replied.

Raising his eyebrows, he said nothing for a moment. "Perhaps I should kill you now."

Lizzie swallowed and he smirked. That was his play. Make him feel like he runs the joint and he'll be happy. Don't mess with him or he'll get pissed. He seemed like a guy who liked control. She glanced up when Hans got to his feet and looked down below outside the window. He placed the radio to his lips and spoke sternly.

"They'll be coming. Get ready."

Lizzie grimaced and mouthed, "Oh no."

"Alright, guys...'twas the night before Christmas..." said a voice from the radio.

"Jesus Christ, no," Lizzie whispered.

Hans smirked down below as he continued listening to the voice on the radio. "...we got four guys coming around the rear."

Suddenly, there was shooting. The spotlights that had gone up were shot out. Lizzie gasped and Hans muttered into the radio. "Just wound them."

There was shooting again and Lizzie shut her eyes as she heard very light screams from outside. The goon on the radio came back on as he gave a chuckle. "Wait a minute. Wait a minute. What have we here, gentlemen?"

Lizzie shook her head. "Stop firing at them. Please!"

Hans ignored her as the goon continued. "The police have themselves an RV. Southeast corner!"

Lizzie struggled against her bonds as she tried not to panic. She had to do something. But, what? She couldn't see anything going on outside. Distracting Hans would be pointless. He wasn't the one shooting. Suddenly, she heard an explosion and a glare of fire from outside.

"Oh, the quarterback is toast!"

"No! Oh, God," Lizzie cried.

Hans remained by the window as he spoke into the radio. "Hit it again."

Lizzie's eyes widened as she suddenly grew angry. "You made your point, you bastard! Leave 'em!"

He stormed to her and grabbed her chin. "Thank you for the advice. I'd prefer you to remain silent, however."

Raising the radio to his mouth again, he ordered, "Hit it again! Fire!"

Another explosion and Lizzie shut her eyes. Where the hell was this Roy Rogers? If he didn't pop up and do something, more cops would die. Her mind was trying to think, but it was also abuzz. As if on cue, the lights started to turn on and off as they all heard a faded explosion. She and Hans looked up at the ceiling until the explosions stopped and the lights stopped flickering.

A goon ran into the office, out of breath. "They're firing back at us."

Hans sat down at the desk, frowning. "It's not them, idiot. It's him."

He eyed the radio and almost looked as if he were thinking of grabbing it. Lizzie felt relief as the chaos outside seemed to have calmed down for the moment. Hans tried to look as calm as he did before, but something was off about him. He didn't seem o have the same confidence. Suddenly, one of the goons came in. One with medium length blonde hair and a truck load of attitude.

"I want him now!"

Hans leaned on the desk and spoke, sternly. "If you had listened to me, he would be neutralized by now."

"I don't want neutral...I want dead," Blondie replied, coldly.

A knock at the door made them jump. Both men turned and grimaced at the man standing at the doorway. One of the guests, Lizzie assumed since she couldn't turn around all the way.

"Hope I'm not interrupting," the man behind her said.

Hans grimaced. "What does he want?"

The man scoffed and laughed. "It's not what I want. It's what I can give ya."

Blondie reached for his gun, quietly, but Hans shook his head. Blondie stepped aside as another goon brought in the moron at the door. Lizzie took one look at him, and he looked as dumb as he sounded. Big smile and face that screamed "Idiot!".

"Look, it's obvious you're not some schmuck up here just to take a few purses, am I right?"

Hans gave a small nod and leaned back in his chair. "You're very perceptive."

Smart alack.

Lizzie saw the man give a shrug at that comment. "Well, I watch 60 Minutes..."

Lizzie shut her eyes and thought, "We're doomed."

"...and I can tell that you guys are professionals. They're devoted. I.E., they want something."

"Figure that out all by yourself? What a bright boy," Lizzie said, rolling her eyes.

Blondie aimed his gun at her head, but Hans gave him a sharp look to put it away. The moron chuckled at her comment and nodded. "Well, sweetheart, I also figured out that you're tied up for a reason. You're not too bright."

"Listen, dumbass! Newsflash: I'm still alive. You won't be if you keep-"

Blondie slapped her across the face and Hans shouted to him in German. Blondie yelled back but left the room when Hans stood up and gave him a warning glance. The moron continued as Hans made his way over to Lizzie.

"Personally, anyway, I couldn't care less about your politics. Maybe your pissed off at the camel jockies. I figure it's none of my business! But, I feel you're here to negotiate, am I right?"

Hans placed his hand on Lizzie's shoulder as he examined her bruised cheek. Lizzie looked at the idiot in fake shock. "You're amazing. You figured this out, already."

Hans smiled at that. Lizzie noticed and rolled her eyes at the whole situation. The idiot laughed and felt flattered at her comment. He approached them with a slick smile. "Hey, sweetheart, business is business. He uses a gun. I use a fountain pen. You use an outdated car to deliver pizzas. So, I think we both know who's the smarter one between the two of us."

"Trust me, I know," she spat.

"Look, man, you came here to steal some green mail. But you didn't know some poison pill was gonna be running around the building."

Lizzie's eyes widened at that. How many of the hostages knew about Roy Rogers? And what was this guy's problem with him? Judging by his behavior, she knew she should've known what kind of idiot this guy was.

"Hans! I'm your white knight!"

Lizzie grimaced. Did he know Roy personally? Hans returned to his desk, looking more irritated than confused. "I must've missed 60 Minutes. What are you...saying?"

The moron sat down like he owned the place and said, "The guy upstairs? I can give him to you."

"What the hell are you doing?" Lizzie demanded.

"Quiet," Hans told her.

Suddenly, Roy's voice came over the radio. "What do they put in these things? Ugh!"

Another man's voice came on. "Roy? You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just took a bite out of a thousand-year-old Twinkie. What do they put in these things?"

Hans turned up the volume a bit as the idiot started to talk. "His name's John McClane. He's a cop in New York. Poor fella."

"They're going to kill you after this, dumbass! You're probably drunk for all we know," Lizzie yelled.

Hans pointed a finger at her and demanded that she remain silent. John kept talking on the radio as he brought up his children. Hans grabbed the radio and said, "Touching, Mr. Cowboy. Touching. Or should I say, McClane? Officer John McClane from New York."

John's voice came on after a few seconds. "Mother Theresa called me 'McClane' in third grade. My friends call me 'John'. And, you're neither of 'em, you bastard."

"There's someone here who would like to talk to you. A friend of yours. A special friend."

Lizzie trembled as she watched the moron take the radio and talk to John. "Hey Johnny boy. I know you think you're doing your job, John. But, I'm telling you that you're just dragging this thing out. Look, these guys just want to talk to the LA police and that's not gonna happen with you screwing around up there."

"Ellis, what did you tell them?" John asked.

Ellis smirked. "I told 'em you were my friend and you were my guest at the party."

Lizzie didn't buy it. This John sounded way too smart to hang out with an idiot like Ellis. Hans and the others seemed to buy it.

"Ellis, you shouldn't be doing this," John said, calmly.

"Tell me about it."

Lizzie shook her head. "Get off the damn radio. Listen to him."

"Hey, hey, settle down, babe, okay?"

John grimaced when he heard that. "Wait, Ellis, who else is there? Is it the girl? What's her name...Lizzie?"

Ellis gave a chuckle and raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, she's quite the pain in the butt. Kind of like you. Maybe you two should hook up after all of this. I think you two would-"

"Ellis, for Christ sake!"

"John, look, they just want their detonators. They know people are listening. That's all they want...or they're gonna kill me and your girlfriend."

He pulled the radio from his face and gave Hans a thumbs up and a wink. Lizzie shook her head as she watched him keep talking to John. Hans just kept a stern face as he waited for some reply from John.

"John, you hear me?"

John came back on, panting. "Yeah...I hear you."

"He's lying," Lizzie said, loudly.

Hans yelled in German and a goon aimed his gun at Lizzie's head. She closed her eyes as she made a silent prayer. They all waited for John.

"John, the police are outside. Tell them where the detonators are before somebody gets hurt! They got a gun to our heads, so you better start spilling the beans," Ellis said, smiling like a phony car salesman.

"Ellis, listen to me very carefully, alright? Just shut up and put Hans back on the line!"

Hans leaned forward as Ellis held the radio out to him. John spoke aloud to the lead German as his voice cracked. "Hans, this idiot doesn't know what kind of man you are, but I do. Put the goddamn guns down!"

"Good, then you also know that you have no choice but to give us the detonators. You are not a part of this negotiation," Hans replied, grabbing his gun on his desk.

"Hey, what am I a stunt actor? Put away the gun, Hans. This is radio, not television," Ellis said as he saw Hans grab the gun.

Lizzie held her breath as John came back on. "Hans, this guy is not my friend! I just met him tonight! Same with the girl! Jesus, don't shoot the girl! You hear me?"

Ellis chuckled. "John, how can you say that after all these years? John?"

Lizzie dared to speak up, whispering. "Ellis, shut up."

When John gave no reply, Ellis put the radio down and Hans gave him the same cheesy smile he had been giving them for the past ten minutes. He shot Ellis in the forehead and Lizzie screamed.