CHAPTER TWO: ROOFTOP CHASE
Stephanie descended the stairs slowly, being careful not to trip on her long dress. It looked to be a painful fall and one of the last things she wanted was to look like an idiot in a hostage situation. The radio in Hans' hand buzzed and a static voice came on.
"We've got a fire alarm," it spoke. Hans stopped and tugged on the back of Stephanie's dress for her to halt.
"Call 911. Give them the guard's name and the building code number, and cancel the alarm. Then disable the system." Hans prodded her again and they continued on their journey down. Tony, the blonde with the glasses, was overlooking the scene from a balcony on the stairs. Hans was about to pass him, but he hesitated.
"On what floor did the alarm go off?"
"Thirty-two." The radio came alive again. Hans looked at Tony and he nodded, understanding without even needing to be asked. The blonde took off towards the elevators. By now, Stephanie was at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for further instructions. She examined the crowd. They were still in shock and no one dared to talk.
"Thank you, Bowers. You may join the others now." Hans walked past her, not in the least bit concerned with the whimpering throng. Stephanie let out a huge sigh and had to struggle to hold back from running into the crowd. It felt marvellous to be out of Hans' ominous reach.
"Honey, are you all right?" A woman with brown, curly hair outstretched her hand to her and grabbed her shoulder. Stephanie quickly nodded, but she closed her eyes for a quick minute. She was shaking uncontrollably and her stomach was madly churning, a terrible feeling that she could not shake. The lady led her to the edge of the waterfall and made her sit down on some smooth rocks.
"What's your name?" The lady crouched to her level.
"Stephanie Bowers," she breathed.
"Well Stephanie, I'm Holly Gennero. Everything's going to be all right, okay?" The girl nodded again and Holly sat beside her. The lady looked at the waterfall to hide the fear in her eyes.
"Waterfalls are popular in Japan. They're said to cause serenity and calmness of the mind and soul." Stephanie's spoke quietly. Maybe if she were to change the topic her illness would then fade.
"Really? Are you familiar with the Japanese culture?" Holly looked at her with a somewhat surprised look on her face.
"Yes. I was educated to be a well-cultured woman so when it came time for me to have my own business, there would be less culture barriers." Holly opened her mouth to reply, but she stopped when she noticed Stephanie's eyes were moving with interest. She followed her gaze to the man in charge across the room. Holly looked back at Stephanie. She was no longer shaking and colour had returned to her face. Her eyes did not hold fright, but instead engrossment.
Stephanie's hands went to the white purse at her side. She felt the outside of it and could feel the one object that it contained. A pocket knife. She never went anywhere alone without it. She was sick of waiting here, tired of cowering. Her terror was now completely gone and it was filled with the need of doing something. But ultimately, gun beat knife so she would have to wait for the perfect opportunity to use it.
"Are you all right?" Miss Gennero finally asked.
"Mhmm," Stephanie turned her head to her, but her eyes were still locked on the leader. Hans was now making his way to sit on a ledge in front of them. His face was blank and he stared out at them. He sat down and crossed his legs casually.
"I wanted this to be professional, efficient and co-operative. Not a lot to ask." He exhaled, almost frustrated. "Alas, Mr. Takagi did not see it that way, so he won't be joining us for the rest of his life." Miss Gennero jumped and her hand caught her mouth.
"We can go anyway you want it," he continued. "You can walk out of here or be carried out, but have no illusions- we are in charge."
A ding echoed through the room and the elevator door opened. A woman near the front of the room screamed as she saw what was inside. The leader of the terrorists jumped up and began to saunter over to the elevator. Curious hostages began to try and push forward, but the men with the guns kept them back. Stephanie stood up and pushed her way to the front. On her tiptoes, she could see inside and inside was Tony, only dead. He was strapped to a chair, covered in blood and wearing a red Santa hat. Red lettering was written across his grey sweater, but Stephanie could not make out the letters from such a distance.
"Now I have a machine gun," Hans read out loud. "Ho ho ho…" He turned to his henchman beside him and began to speak in German. Alarmingly, his voice was not panicked or angry. It still kept its smooth calmness. He returned to the crowd and two of his men followed him out of the room. Now there was only one longhaired terrorist left within the elevator.
"Here's my chance," Stephanie whispered to herself. She slipped past the crowd and hid behind a large, abstract statue. The man's back was turned to her. She took a deep breath and pulled out her knife. If she were to slit his throat, then he would have no chance of turning around to shoot her. She rounded the corner and stepped into the elevator. Miss Gennero watched in horror, trying not to scream out. Stephanie's grasp on the hilt of the knife tightened and she took one last breath. The knife plunged deep into the man's throat and with a great slash, blood began to spew onto the ground. His scratchy screams rang out into the room and the crowd began to make more noise.
"Shit!" Stephanie closed the elevator doors before any of the others could see her. The man now lay on the floor, motionless. "Oh goodness."
"Hey!" A raspy voice came from up above and startled her. She looked up and saw chestnut eyes staring out of a vent at her.
"Are you one of them?" She pressed herself against the cold, metal interior.
"No." The vent was removed and a hand hung down to her. "Grab my hand." She wavered. What if he was lying? What if he really was one of the terrorists and just witnessed her murdering his partner and now wanted revenge? Stephanie did not really have much of a choice. She would probably die anyway if they found her in the elevator, covered in the man's blood.
The inside of the elevator shaft was dark and chilly, much like a cave.
"What are you doing killing terrorists? You could have gotten killed!" The man that pulled her up nagged at her. It was the same man that she had earlier watched as he arrived to the party, only he had stripped off his dress shirt and shoes.
"Listen," she leaned in close, "I am not going to just stand there while my father's old company is robbed. I would rather die." Her eyes held a certain seriousness that made the man back down a little.
"As long as you know what you're doing," he sighed.
"They killed Mr. Takagi."
"I know. I saw it."
"You were that sound outside the room? Well, aren't you stealthy," Stephanie murmured sarcastically, but the man only grinned in reply.
Stephanie noticed something written on his arm in black marker. It looked like a list.
"What's that?"
"A list of the terrorist's names." He held his arm out to her briefly. At the top of the list was Hans. Stephanie chuckled, impressed.
"What are you, a cop?"
"Yep. From New York." He looked around, possibly trying to figure out a plan on how to get out of there.
"Ah, well, I'm Stephanie Bowers." She held out her hand, ignoring the feeling that it was the wrong time for formal introductions.
"John McClane." He returned the shake concisely. The elevator shook and they began to ascend as the neighboring elevator went down. The elevator was speeding up without stopping, and if it didn't stop soon, the shaft's ceiling would surely crush them. At the last second, John shoved Stephanie's head down and ducked himself. The elevator hit a metal barrier, leaving barely enough space to breathe. Stephanie pushed at John to move so that they could get out of this tiny space. He found a railing perpendicular to the shaft and pulled himself onto a narrow platform.
"Here!" The brawny officer outstretched his hand and helped his new comrade up.
"Glad that's over with." Stephanie wiped her forehead and looked down at the long fall down the shaft.
"Can I see that knife?" John asked and Stephanie gave it to him without hesitation. John crouched down to the level of her knees and began to tear the dress with the silver knife.
"What are you doing?" Stephanie shouted.
"It's going to be a pain in the ass to have this long of a dress. It'll restrict your movement." He finished tearing off the rest of it to about just above her knee. He stood back up and handed her back her small knife.
"Thanks." She smiled faintly and then followed him to the end of a platform where a dull, metal door led back into the main building. Fortunately, it wasn't locked and easily opened. Once through, they climbed a series of metal staircases and reached the building's roof. John stopped.
"You know how to handle a gun?" he asked, eyeing her.
"I've been to the shooting range a couple of times with my dad." Stephanie shrugged. John smiled and handed her his own pistol.
"Just need to pull the trigger." He winked, holding a machine gun in his own hands.
On the roof, it was colder than in the elevator shaft. The sky had already become dark with night, but a blinking light gave enough light for them to see. John pulled out a radio similar to Hans', which Stephanie had not noticed before.
"Mayday. Mayday, anyone copying channel nine. Terrorists have seized the Nakatomi Building and are holding at least thirty people hostage," he spoke into it clearly and with haste. "Unknown amount of terrorists – six or more armed with automatic weapons at Nakatomi Plaza. Somebody answer me goddamn it!" A moment of silence returned before a woman's voice came on the radio.
"Attention, whoever you are, this channel is reserved for emergency calls only."
"No fucking shit, lady! Does it sound like I'm ordering a pizza?" John yelled back. "They have already killed one hostage. They are fortifying their positions while you're jerking me on the radio!"
John was now violently pacing.
"Sir, I've already told you. This is a reserved channel. If this is an emergency call, dial 911 on your telephone. Otherwise, I'll have to report this as an FCC violation."
"Fine! Come the fuck down and arrest me, just send the police now!"
A shot bounced off a nearby railing and Stephanie screamed out in surprise.
"Get cover!" John yelled and pulled her over behind a little shed. More fire followed, obviously coming from other machine guns.
"Oh shit," Stephanie muttered to herself. John grabbed her by the arm and ran down the stairs opposite of the shooting.
"Keep close to me!" he shouted over his shoulder. Stephanie tried to get a look at where the shooters were so she could possibly fire back, but she could spot anyone. They made it to another shed and took refuge behind it. Someone from a level above continued to fire at them.
"I think there's a door leading inside over there," Stephanie said through her rapid panting. "You go inside, I'll stay here. It'll be more efficient for us to split up."
John stared at her as he regained his breath and then nodded in agreement.
"Be careful," she whispered.
"Don't worry about me, worry about yourself." He reloaded his machine gun, and with one last glance at Stephanie, he darted across the tight space between the shed and the door and slammed the door open. Stephanie waited until her new friend disappeared inside before sliding down onto the ground. It would be a matter of minutes before they found her. She wondered if they would even suspected her of killing that one guy. Her eyes drifted down to her blood-splattered dress.
"Great," she growled. Stephanie could hear quick footsteps coming closer. Two men noticed her, one being the blonde thug that Stephanie disliked most.
"Get her to Hans. I'll go after the other one." His face was distorted with fury, his voice thick with loathing. His contemporary reached out, seized her gun and forced her up with a vicious yank. Stephanie wanted to jerk from his grasp and kick him where it hurt, but he now had two guns and she had no chance. She was already on a very thin line.
"Look who we found on the roof."
Stephanie was pushed by the trigger-happy man and fell down onto all fours. Hans had taken over Miss Gennero's office and was currently set up at her walnut desk. She slowly looked up into his eyes. She knew he had taken notice of her bloody clothing and purse.
"I take it you were the one that killed Franco? I thought I made it clear to you that you were not to be a problem." Hans' face showed little care in the man's loss of life. He was just another number to him. His curious eyes trailed from her pale and soft face to where her baby-blue dress drooped to expose some of her chest. Stephanie caught his gaze and sprung up straight, her face flushing red.
"Well, seeing as how we can't leave you alone with the others, you'll now be under my watch at all times." He waved dismissively at the other man.
"Lucky me," she mumbled as she got to her feet. Her white, high-heeled shoes were starting to hurt her feet and she slipped them off before she got any blisters. And if she needed to run she could.
"Take a seat." Hans smiled and gestured to any of the three beige chairs in front of the desk. Stephanie cautiously sat in the one that was a good distance away from the ringleader as she saw a pistol peeking out from behind the lamp in front of him. The bearded man leaned forward and was about to say something, but his radio cut him off. A voice rang out, recognizable as the man in pursuit of John.
"Karl?" Hans' hands dashed for the radio.
"He's in the elevator shaft."
"He's still alive," Stephanie whispered to herself and a grin spread on her face.
"Perfect. The elevators are locked off. He can't escape. Just shut him in and come back down." Hans' voice was impatient and brisk. "Karl, the police are probably on their way already. Karl?"
There came no reply from his radio and Hans frowned.
"I can stall them but not if they hear gunshots. If you lock him in he'll be neutralized."
There still came no reply, just a quick click, meaning that Karl had turned off his radio.
"That idiot's going to blow the whole operation," Hans snarled.
"Fine by me." Stephanie leaned back in the cushy chair. She had a feeling she wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon.