oOo
He was right. Nearly all of his henchmen- at least the ones who were left and not busy- showed up in the little office. The rest stayed to guard the hostages in the atrium. There was commotion in the office, everyone shouting in several different languages, and Charlotte had never felt so claustrophobic. Outside, more and more police cars pulled up. Then a news van. They were going to be on TV.
"Will all of you calm down?!" Hans ground out. "This is a matter of inconvenient timing. Police action was inevitable… and as it happens, necessary."
This caught her attention, but nobody was paying attention to her to notice.
"So let them fumble about outside and stay calm." He stressed the last two words, giving them all a meaningful look. "This is simply the beginning." Now he looked at her, and she felt her stomach knot in fear.
Please don't kill me- please don't-
Whatever he was going to say or do was interrupted by the CB radio crackling again. Everyone watched as Hans grabbed it and said angrily "I told you all, I want radio silence until further notice."
"Gee, I'm very sorry Hans, I didn't get that message." It was the voice from before. The mysterious phantom of the plaza. "Maybe you should have put it on the bulletin board." The cocky guy.
Everyone, including Hans this time, stared at the device in a mixture of shock and confusion. Charlotte struggled not to smile.
"Anyway," The voice continued. "I waxed Tony and Marco and their friend here. I thought you and Franco and Karl might be a little lonely so I wanted to give you a call."
"How does he know so much about-" Franco started to ask but Hans cut him off with a wave of his hand.
"This is very kind of you. I assume you are our mysterious party crasher." Hans said calmly. "You are most troublesome… for a security guard." He ventured.
An obnoxious sound like a buzzer came through the speaker. "Sorry, Hans, wrong guess! Would you like to go for Double Jeopardy where the scores can really change?" The party crasher said with an amused tone. Charlotte felt her palms beginning to sweat. Whoever he was… this guy totally rocked!
Hans looked affronted- a look she liked to see on him- and asked into the radio, "Who are you then?"
"Just a fly in the ointment, Hans. The monkey in the wrench. The pain in the ass." The voice fell silent.
Hans looked up to the others. "Check on the others- don't use the radios!" He spoke quickly. "See if he's lying about Marco and find out if anyone else is missing." Karl nodded and ran from the room, Franco and Fritz following close behind.
"Mr. Mystery Guest." Hans asked. "Are you still there?"
"Yeah I'm still here… unless you want to open the front door?"
"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? Marshall Dillion?" Hans spat.
"I was always kinda partial to Roy Rogers actually." The man countered. "I really liked those sequined shirts."
"Do you really think you have a chance against us, Mr. Cowboy?" Hans sneered.
At first there was silence, but then 'Mr. Cowboy' replied with, "Yippie-ki-yay, mother-fucker." And Charlotte couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped. Hans glared at her, and her blood suddenly felt cold in her veins. She at least had the tact to look apologetic but Hans didn't care.
"You think this is funny?" He asked.
"N-No, I'm just nervous. I shouldn't have laughed, that was inappropriate of me." She said, shaking her head.
"Indeed." He replied, one of his eyebrows raised slightly. "Because if it comes down to a shootout, who do you think I will be using as a human shield?"
She stared at him, fear at this revelation was only barely hidden in her eyes. She swallowed nervously and asked "Was a shootout part of your plan too?"
He stood up from the desk then- taking his time to do so- leaning his hands on the surface, and opened his mouth to say something to her, but Karl had chosen that exact moment to return, out of breath.
"He wasn't lying about Marco." Karl said breathily. "He's down in the street. And the other man was Heinrich." He paused for breath. "And his bag is missing."
That surprised look returned to Hans' face. This time with a hint of worry. "He had the detonator." Hans said matter-of-factly.
Detonator?
He spoke into the radio again, "Theo? Theo!"
"Yo?" Came Theo's reply. He was shouting over some kind of machinery noises on his end.
"We may have some problems. How's your schedule?"
"Three down, four to go!" He replied excitedly. Charlie suddenly remembered exactly what Theo was doing.
"Then don't waste time talking to me." Hans spat.
Yep. This Cowboy guy had struck a nerve, and the little flicker of hope Charlotte had felt burned a bit brighter.
Again the radio crackled and a new voice came through. "This is Sergeant Al Powell of the Los Angeles Police. If the person who radioed for help on this channel can hear me, acknowledge this transmission. I say again…"
"I read you Powell." Came the guys voice. "You the guy in the car?"
"What's left of him. Can you identify yourself?" Powell asked.
Hans watched the radio intently.
"Not now, maybe later." Came the reply. "Listen fast because this is a party line and the neighbor's got itchy trigger fingers. Alright here's the deal…"
"We need to find him and shut him up!" Someone said. "He's telling them everything!"
"Let him." Hans replied calmly. "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," He looked up to the one who had spoken. "Go help Uli. We must have the detonators."
"So what can I call you?" Powell was asking.
"Call me… Roy." replied the cowboy. Hans sneered at that, rolling his eyes.
"We must find the detonator." He repeated, and then seemed to take a deep, calming breath. There was a noticeable shift in his posture as he seemed to be reorienting himself. "Franco, bring me that television." The one called Franco did so, setting it up on the desk.
Now there's explosives involved. Charlotte thought frantically. He brought explosives to this thing?! She couldn't think of a reason he would need explosives. They had Theo cracking the vault so it wasn't for that.
The henchmen ran from the office to run their errands leaving her alone with him again. When she looked over to him he was staring at her once again. That almost predatory look from before was back in his eyes. She fought the urge to fidget or shrink into her chair.
"What?" She asked, sounding less brave than she meant to.
"You look tense." He said after a moment and his expression relaxed just a bit. He even smirked slightly.
"…Can you blame me?" She asked and Hans nodded slightly in understanding.
"I suppose not." He conceded "Your first hostage situation, I take it?"
She nearly snorted in amusement. "Oh, no. This happens every weekend for me." She said with only a hint of sarcasm. She didn't want to actually piss him off. Apparently it was the right amount because he gave her a wry smile.
"Terrorists take you hostage every weekend? How exciting your life must be." He joked back, his wry smile turned a bit more genuine, even reaching his eyes.
He really is quite handsome. She thought again, and after a moment she quietly said "...Except you're not terrorists."
The levity of the moment ended then and Hans' expression turned from humorous to serious in an instant. "No. We're not." He agreed.
In a daring move, she pressed just a bit further and asked "What are the explosives for?"
His eyes narrowed into a glare, making him look exactly as dangerous as she knew him to be, and she dropped her gaze down to her hands in her lap. After a minute he resumed scribbling in his notebook.
"I have a request." Came a voice from the doorway, and Charlie looked up to see Holly being walked into the room. She immediately wanted to jump up and hug her boss- out of fear or relief or both, she didn't know which- but she resisted the urge. Just seeing a familiar and friendly face was making her feel hopeful again.
"What idiot put you in charge?" Hans asked annoyed, without glancing up from his notebook.
"You did." She replied, and this time he did look up, and Holly continued. "When you killed my boss. Now everybody's looking to me. Personally I'd pass on the job. I don't enjoy being this close to you."
Hans dropped his pen, sat up straight and gave her his full attention. "Go on."
"We have a pregnant woman out there." She started, and Hans looked visibly troubled by this. "Relax," she continued. "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."
"No, but I'll have a sofa brought out to you." He replied. "Good enough?"
"Good enough." Holly agreed. "And unless you like it messy, I suggest you start bringing us in groups to the bathroom."
Hans nodded. "Yes, you are right. It will be done."
He really didn't consider taking the hostages to the bathroom? Charlie thought. I thought he had this all planned out.
"Was there anything else?" He asked when Holly still remained after a moment. She'd been looking worriedly at Charlie.
"Yes. May she join the rest of us now?" She asked, gesturing to the younger woman. With all the blood and bruising, Holly figured they might be torturing her. Yes! Charlie thought. Please, just let me go sit with them. Though she already knew the answer.
"No." He replied firmly. "All of your other requests will be tended to."
She looked like she wanted to argue but with a dejected sigh, Holly instead said "Thank you." and turned to leave, giving Charlie a sympathetic and apologetic look.
Right before she made it to the door, Hans said "Mr. Takagi chose his people well, Mrs…?"
"Gennero." Holly answered before turning back to face him. "Ms Gennero." She clarified and then turned and exited her office.
"See to that will you?" Hans said to the henchmen who had escorted Holly in, and returned to his notebook again. Charlie listened with vague interest as the anchorman on the television began to report on their situation. A live feed of the building playing on the little screen but all she could think about was how she was trapped in this little office with this man who may or may not be planning to shoot her… or maybe blow her up apparently. After another long moment, without looking up he said to Charlie, "She seems worried about you." As he said this, huge searchlights flicked on outside the building.
It took her a second to realize that he was addressing her. "She's my boss." Charlie explained. "She probably thinks you guys are in here torturing me for pleasure."
"That's not what I'd do to you for pleasure." He quipped in a low sultry voice, and she felt a fluttering twinge below her stomach when his words sank in. Her chance to reply was cut off by Roy, thankfully. She didn't actually have a response for that.
Roy's voice came through the radio again. "Al! Al, you still with me babe? What's going on? Yo, Al?"
"I'm here Roy," came Al's reply. "I'm kinda busy right now, I'll talk to you later."
"Al, what's going on?"
"I said I'll talk to you later." All snapped. "If you are what I think you are, you know when to listen, when to shut up… and when to pray."
"Jesus Christ!" Roy cried. "You're coming in, that's it isn't it? Christ, Powell, I told you what kind of people you're dealing with here."
Hans grabbed the radio and spoke into it. "Everyone be ready, they're coming in. Theo, you are the eyes now."
"What are you going to do?" Charlie asked before she could stop herself. Curiosity outweighing her fear.
Glancing back at her, Hans thought for a moment before saying, "You really want to know?"
She gulped nervously but nodded.
He motioned her over to him, and when she didn't move he motioned again and said playfully "Come now, I won't bite."
"That's not what you said before." She said softly as she joined him behind the desk and he placed a hand on her back ushering her over to the window.
"Fair enough." He smiled. "Play nice and I won't." For a split second his hand slid lower, almost to her butt, before it disappeared from her back, and she couldn't help the warm blush that spread throughout her body, making her palms sweat slightly. Outside the parking lot was crawling with cars, vans and huge searchlights.
Through the radio, Theo said "Alright, listen up guys. T'was the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring… except for the four assholes coming in the rear in standard two by two cover formation."
Hans replied with an order to shoot the lights. One by one they went out, dimming the lot.
"Don't be impatient, just wound them." Hans continued giving orders behind her as she watched the action play out below. Faint pops sounded, as the four in the black SWAT uniforms stumbled and fell. It was anticlimactic but at least nobody was getting seriously injured. Charlotte let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Hans shot her a small smirk as if he was quite proud of how he'd handled it.
"Whoa, wait a minute, wait a minute! What have we here, gentlemen?" Theo's excited voice came through again. "The police have themselves an RV! Southeast corner."
A small vehicle that looked like a miniature tank, rolled over the stairs to the building. Somewhere below them, something loud whistled and whizzed down to the vehicle, which erupted into a large ball of flames so bright it lit up the entire parking lot. Charlie flinched when it exploded.
"Oh my god, and the quarterback is toast!" Theo laughed. Charlotte turned to gauge Hans' reaction and wasn't surprised- though slightly disturbed- to see him unmoved by the carnage.
"Hit it again." He said.
"No!" Charlotte pleaded. "Hans, don't!"
"Hans, you motherfucker!" Roy shouted through the radio. "You made your point, let them pull back!"
"Thank you, My. Cowboy. I'll take it under advisement. Hit it again-"
She moved to swipe the radio from his hands, but he must have anticipated the movement because before she had time to register what was happening she was slammed back into the wall, her already bruised shoulder blades resonating in pain again. Her breath hitched from the pain and then she let out a small whimper of fear when she opened her eyes. He was glaring at her, face inches from hers, nostrils flaring. He was holding her in place with his arm against her neck and his hip against hers. Without breaking eye contact, he brought the radio up to his face and said "Fire!" His eyes daring her to make another move. Daring her to even speak again. She held very still, and this time didn't dare to break eye contact with him.
They still refused to break eye contact as outside another wall of fire erupted, lighting their faces with the orange glow. Embers glittering in their eyes. "Again." He said, relishing the look of helplessness on her face.
This time, the entire building shook to its foundations. They both lost their balance for a few seconds and braced against the wall and grabbed each other for stability, the radio clattering to the floor. When the rumbling stopped they were somehow even closer than before. One of his knees had managed to wedge in between her upper thighs and despite herself she fought the sudden- and frightening- compulsion to grind her pelvic floor against it. His arm that was against her neck had slipped lower and was now across her collarbone, the hand dangerously close to resting on her breast. He could feel her heart racing. Her chest heaving.
She could smell some kind of aftershave or maybe a cologne that was cloying and rich, and briefly wondered what she smelled like to him. Probably blood and sweat. She thought as she looked up to gauge his reaction, only to have her nose brush against his. Her eyes widened as they locked with his and she felt something coil tightly deep below her stomach again. His other hand that had been holding the radio had found its way to her waist during the shaking, now tightened almost possessively, and in response her own legs squeezed slightly around his thigh. She saw his gaze flicker to her lips for just a split second before jumping back to her eyes… and then something firm between his legs brushed lightly against her leg.
One of the henchmen stumbled back into the room. "They're using artillery on us!" He cried.
"You idiot," Hans said gruffly, pushing away from her and she nearly fell to the floor. "It's not the police. It's him." He waved the man away again with a scowl, then looked sternly at her and snapped his fingers, pointing to the couch. "Sit." His voice was thick and gravelly. She could see a faint blush creeping up his neck. She did as he commanded, stumbling slightly on legs that seemed to be made of jelly.
He returned to his seat behind Holly's desk and she stared straight ahead while she waited for her heart to return to a normal pace. Outside in the atrium, nearly everyone was now staring at her. She watched as a few people whispered to their neighbors. Sometime later, Karl burst back into the office, speaking quickly, and angrily in German. He placed his hands on the desk, leaning heavily onto it.
"If you would have listened to me, he would have been neutralized already." Hans replied in English.
"I don't want neutral!" Karl snapped back. "I want dead!"
There was a knock at the door, and everyone looked up to see who it was.
