CHAPTER THREE: PINNED
Hans glared at Stephanie for a moment, but his eyes turned from brief anger to interest.
"What is a girl like you doing alone at a business Christmas party? Or, I assume you are alone?" He raised his brows at her in inquisition.
Stephanie hesitated for a moment, debating on whether she wanted to engage in a conversation with a murderous thief. She concluded it wouldn't cause any harm and she had time to waste anyway.
"I was invited. My father worked here before he died and Mr. Takagi thought of it as a friendly gesture." Her voice was quiet at the mention of the dead man's name. He had been a very kind gentleman who was very relaxed with his employees, but strict at the same time, making him a very good businessman. The world had lost one of its good people.
"Ah," Hans nodded, "is that why you two were so familiar with each other?"
"I would try and stop someone from killing anyone any day. Life is too precious for a person to take it away." Stephanie prayed her voice would not quiver with suppressed tears as she thought of her late parents. They had both died in accidents, one being of childbirth implications and the other of a drunk driver. Both could have been avoidable, but that is not how fate wanted it. Lady Fate wanted Stephanie to be alone and helpless, and now apparently frightened as well as seeing she was now a hostage.
"That's very brave of you," he grinned, his fervent, brown eyes not turning away from her, "or very foolish."
"I don't believe it is foolish to help a fellow man." Stephanie's eyes narrowed with agitation. She had become annoyed with this sudden turn of conversation and quickly wanted to end it. Her wish was granted when Hans noticed the noise of a car from outside. He gazed through the blinds and spotted a black and white cop car circling in front of the building. Hans grabbed his stocky radio and spoke into it.
"Eddie?"
"I had a feeling you'd be calling," came a reply. It was the same voice as the one that notified Hans of the fore alarm earlier. "I'll take care of it."
"Good." Hans placed his radio back onto the wooden desk, but he did not remove himself from the window. He continued to peer down at the cop car.
The policeman, a plump, black man, got out of his vehicle and cautiously strolled into the building. After a few intense minutes of waiting, the man came back out and began to back out of his parking spot. Then, the most unexpected thing happened. A body dropped from a floor above them and landed on the hood of the cop car. From the way that it limply fell, Hans guessed the man to already be dead. Gunfire roared into the night as the terrorists shot at the policeman to stop him from leaving now that he was alerted. The cop car rushed backwards in panic and over a barrier, dropping out of sight. Hans sighed, but he had expected police involvement sooner or later.
"That can't be good," Stephanie remarked playfully as she listened to the cracking of guns. Hans simply ignored her.
"Eddie, we've blown our cover. Time to stop playing nice guard," Hans articulated. Sirens could be heard from a distance and, by the speed of which they were growing louder, they were speeding down the roads to back up their fellow police officer. The closest terrorists ran into the office, alarmed by the sirens and approaching police.
"All of you relax." Hans sat down, unnerved by the sudden turn of events. "This is a matter of inconvenient timing, that's all. Police action was inevitable and, as it happens, necessary."
Karl sat down in one of the chairs next to Stephanie, looking as though he was about to throw a tantrum from being interrupted from killing John McClane. A wave of discomfort washed over Stephanie and she straightened up in her own chair, trying to look as if she had found the plastic plant beside Hans' desk to be very engaging.
"So let them fumble about outside and stay calm. This is simply the beginning," Hans rendered. Static buzzed from his radio and he immediately grabbed it.
"I thought I told all of you I want radio silence until further notice?" Hans snapped sharply.
"I'm sorry Hans, I didn't get that message," the radio mocked. "You should have put it on the bulletin board. Since I waxed Tony and Heinrich and his friend here, I figured you and Karl might be a little lonely so I wanted to give you a call."
Stephanie laughed. She was amazed that John was still alive. He may have been a cop, but he was not invincible, or so she thought. Hans looked speechless and for a few minutes no one said a word.
"That's very kind of you," Hans finally spoke into the radio. "I assume you are our mystery party crasher. You are most troublesome for a security guard."
A noise like a buzzer answered the puzzled man.
"Sorry, Hans. Wrong guess. Would you like to go for Double Jeopardy, where the scores could really change?"
"I love this guy," Stephanie whispered to Karl, but she shut up once he scowled at her.
"Who are you then?"
"Just a fly in the ointment, Hans. The monkey in the wrench, the pain in the ass. Is Stephanie with you?"
Stephanie perked up at her name. Hans glanced at her and then back at the radio. He held it out for her to speak to him.
"Yeah, I'm here," she spoke, loud enough for him to hear her.
Hans turned off his radio for a moment so that there was no chance of John hearing what he would say next.
"Check on all the others. Don't use the radio. See if he's lying about Heinrich and find out who else is missing." Karl sprung up at his orders and left the room, the atmosphere becoming a little less strained. Hans turned back to his radio.
"Mr. Mystery Guest, are you still there?"
"Yeah, I'm still here unless you want to open the front door for me."
"No, I'm afraid not, but you have me at a loss. You know my name, but who are you? Just another American who saw too many movies as a child? Another orphan of a bankrupt culture who thinks he's John Wayne, Rambo, Marshal Dillon?"
"I was always kind of partial to Roy Rogers, actually. I really like those sequinned shirts."
"Do you really think you have a chance against us, Mr. Cowboy?" Hans drawled.
"Yipee-kai-yay, motherfucker," John taunted. The conversation seemed to have ended, leaving Hans very confused and thoughtful.
"I see you have met your match, Mr. Gruber," Stephanie spoke out proudly.
"You know him, don't you? Who is he?" His eyes flickered to her.
"Not saying," she whispered derisively.
Karl burst into the room before Hans could threaten her to give him the information he wanted.
"He wasn't lying. Marco and Heinrich are both dead and Heinrich's bag is missing."
"Well, he had the detonator." Hans at last showed concern. His plan had finally been altered. Hans typed in a different frequency on his radio with briskness.
"Theo," Hans called out to the chunky device.
"Yo!" Theo had to shout over the loud background noise. It sounded like he was drilling.
"We may have some problems. How's your schedule?"
"Three down. Four to go."
"Then don't waste time talking to me," Hans muttered. Stephanie rolled her eyes at his haughty attitude.
"This is Sergeant Al Powell of the LA Police Department. If the person who radioed for help on this channel can hear me, acknowledge this transmission. I say again, if the person who radioed for help on this channel can hear me, acknowledge this transmission," the radio suddenly spoke out, causing more puzzled looks from Hans. He did not reply. However, another man did.
"I read you, Powell. You the guy in the car?" John's voice answered.
"What's left of him. Can you identify yourself?"
At this, Hans' back straightened with interest.
"No, not now. Maybe later."
Hans hunched back over, disappointed.
"Listen fast, this is a party line and the neighbour's got itchy trigger fingers. All right here's the deal: you got 30 or so hostages on the thirtieth floor. The leader's name is Hans-"
"We have to find him and shut him up. He's telling them everything!" the man that had dragged Stephanie to Hans hissed.
"Let him. I'm waiting for the FBI to arrive. Until then, he can waste as much time as he likes, but we must find the bag, Fritz. We must have the detonators," Hans spoke as he collected a notebook and pen.
The man left in a hurry, too worried to not do anything. John continued to catch the police up with recent information about who they were dealing with.
"Going to write in your diary, Mr. Gruber?" Stephanie smirked slightly. "Seems a bad time to be doing that or will you not remember this later and you have to write it all down now?"
Hans ignored her, too enveloped in his note taking to pay her any attention. She heard John's voice die from the radio and she sat back in her chair, closing her eyes. Stephanie was quite exhausted from this whole momentous event.
Not two minutes passed before a knock came from the door. Holly Gennero was standing outside the doorframe, accompanied by Fritz. Hans did not look up and she impatiently walked inside. Stephanie turned to see who it was and a smile instantly spread across her face.
"Miss Gennero!" Stephanie called out quietly.
"Stephanie! Thank God, you're all right." She reached out and brushed Stephanie's cheek faintly.
"Is there a point to your intrusion or are you here just to annoy me?" Hans muttered, still not looking up.
"Shouldn't I be the one asking that?" Holly snapped. "Anyway, I have a request."
"What idiot put you in charge?"
"You did when you murdered my boss," Holly replied strongly.
Hans finally looked up to meet her glare.
"Now everybody's looking to me. Personally, I'd pass on the job. I don't enjoy being this close to you."
Hans set down his metallic pen and gave Ms. Gennero his full attention.
"Go on," he said, folding his hands on his lap.
"We have a pregnant woman out there. Relax, she's not due for a couple of weeks but sitting on that rock isn't doing her back any good. So, I would like permission to move her to one of the offices where there's a sofa," Gennero asked with forced politeness.
"No, but I'll have a sofa brought out to you. Good enough?"
"Good enough. And unless you like it messy, I suggest you start bringing us in groups to the bathroom."
"Yes. You're right. It will be done. Was there something else?"
Holly's gaze was aimed to a turned down picture. Her eyes were sad and blazed with longing, but they snapped back to Hans.
"No, thank you." Holly gave one last hopeful pat on Stephanie's arm and walked quickly out of her office, Stephanie's eyes trailing after her.
"Do you know everyone here, Miss Bowers?" Hans weakly grinned at her and continued to write.
"Very funny." Stephanie tried to peek at his book, but she couldn't get a good look from where she was sitting. If she were to move to the seat closest to his desk, then maybe she could see what he was writing. It could possibly help John. Cautiously, Stephanie stood up and moved to the chair centre of Hans' desk. "I only met Miss Gennero tonight."
A beam of white light flooded the office, blinding Stephanie from looking at Hans' book. He suddenly stood up, radio in hand, and leered out the window.
"They'll be coming. Everybody get ready. Theo, you are the eyes now," Hans spoke into the device.
They were coming? Who were they? The police? Stephanie rubbed her eyes as the lights died down. It was shocking to hear Hans' voice so relaxed and poised even though there was a whole team of cops closing in on them. A voice cleared itself on the radio.
"Okay guys, listen up. 'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring except – the four assholes coming in the rear in standard two by two cover formation," Theo spoke, sounding like he was chewing on something.
"Don't be impatient. Just wound them," Hans ordered slyly.
"Whoah! Wait a minute. What have we here gentlemen?" Theo talked more to himself than anyone. "The police have themselves an RV. Southeast corner."
A noisy growling sound filled the night air. Stephanie could only guess by the amusement on Hans' face that he was prepared for this as well. The sound of a small rocket cut through the present noise and an explosion on the ground followed. The terrorists apparently shot a rocket-grenade at the RV.
"Oh my God! The quarterback is toast!" Theo yelled out like a kid watching a harmless football game.
"Hit it again." Hans was now restlessly pacing around the window.
"Hans, you motherfucker! You made your point! Let them pull back!" John screamed furiously over the radio.
"Thank you, Mr. Cowboy. I'll take it under advisement. Hit it again!" He waited for a few moments to let his henchmen reload their ammunition. "Fire."
Another explosion erupted, just as big as the last one. Stephanie saw no point to this. Were they here just to play games with the police? Then came another blast of explosion, but this time it felt like it came from within the building, for the ground below them shook violently. Hans jumped; it surely was not his men's doing.
Stephanie looked behind her and saw that no one was guarding the doorway and Hans was preoccupied with the view of outside on the ground. If Stephanie were to sneak out of the office and make her way to the hostages then she could – she didn't know what she could do, but it would be better than being under the watch of this terrifyingly cunning man.
Very quietly, she rose from her chair and backed away. Hans jerked his head sideways, and she stopped dead, but then realised he was craning his neck to get a better view of something down below. Stephanie continued backwards and was almost out the door until she hit the back of her heel on a potted plant. She held back any vocalisation of her pain, but the sound of the impact was enough to catch Hans' notice.
"What are you doing?" he hissed. Stephanie looked at him blankly for a moment before fleeing from the office. It was much easier to run now that she was barefooted, she just hoped there was nothing sharp in her path. She booked it right into the main area and all the hostages gasped, bewildered that she had escaped. She would have stopped to talk to Holly, but Hans was surprisingly chasing after her.
Stephanie ran up the stairs, almost tripping once, and made it into the model room. She looked around speedily at all the walls, looking for an elevator. Silver glinted at her from across the room and she started to dart towards it, but a powerful hand caught her wrist and flung her into a hard, black wall.
"You are starting to become more trouble than you are worth, Miss Bowers," Hans spoke between heavy pants. It seemed he was not used to doing physical work himself. Stephanie tried to wiggle free from his grasp, but he was too strong.
Now that he had no other distractions, Hans took his first thorough look at Stephanie. Her long, dirty-blonde hair was starting to fall from her once-neat bun, her icy, blue eyes held both fear and fierceness as she glared at him, and her skin, although slightly sweaty and covered in some blood, was smooth and rosy with emotion. He pinned her closer to the wall so there was only a small distance between their bodies.
"I thought you were intelligent enough to stay out of our way, but I am terribly mistaken. You have seen what I am capable of doing –" Hans spoke into her ear, "Murder."
Stephanie shivered as his warm breath caressed her neck. She turned her face away from him indignantly, causing him to chuckle lightly.
"Get off me," Stephanie whispered, too tired from running to shout. She returned to squirming, but as Hans' knee brushed up the inside of her thigh as he tried to stabilize himself, she became petrified. At that moment, Fritz bounded into the room and stopped at the strange sight of them.
"There's some guy that wants to speak with you," Fritz mumbled, his thumb pointing behind him. Hans pulled away from Stephanie, but kept his grip tight around her wrist.
"Tell him to meet me in my office," Hans said as he made his way back down stairs, towing the struggling Stephanie behind him.