Disclaimer – I own none of the ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’ characters, or the story line of ‘Die Hard’. I just mixed the two together in my head, and voila!
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The plane touched down on the runway after leaving New York for L.A hours ago. There was that usual moment just after landing when you let out that sigh of relief that you've made it in one piece. Out of the window he could see the runway speeding by underneath them, as they slowed to pull into the gate. The only thoughts that had been on his mind for the whole journey were that of his wife. They hadn’t seen each other for months. His job as a New York police officer, and her job as a business woman at the Nakatomi corporation in L.A keeping them apart. They had spoken to each other by phone over the past couple of months, but had never gotten to see each other because of the enormous workloads piled on them by their bosses. How he wanted to just hold her in his arms, stroke her long blonde hair, take in the scent of vanilla that covered her body, kiss her soft lips and hold her forever in his arms safe and loved. The time they had to spend apart was getting harder and he didn’t know if he could carry on with it.
Spike McClane was in his early thirties unbelievably good looking, athletic, with platinum blonde hair. His sharp cheekbones and baby blue eyes that changed with his mood, made his face resemble that of an angel’s. He was dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt, with a silky black unbuttoned shirt over the top of it.
Suddenly a voice next to him roused him from his thoughts of his blonde beauty, “You don't like flying, do you?” The voice sounded like one of those telephone salesmen that somehow know to phone you just when your sitting down to dinner or just about to have a shower. Spike turned and looked at the man next to him. Caught, he tensed, holding his arm rests in exaggerated fear. “No, no, where'd you get that idea?” Spike said, his accent betraying that fact that he was not originally from America. His British accent had stayed with him and had not lost any of its originality in the ten or so years he had been living here. He had been born in England, and had moved to Sunnydale, California when he was twenty, where he fell in love with, and married Buffy Summers. They had their first child, Anne within their first year of marriage, and William, their son was born three years later.
Spike gradually realised the man next to him was still talking to him, but this time had a cheesy grin plastered on his face. “Ya wanna know the secret of successful air travel? After you get where you're going, ya take off your shoes and socks. Then ya walk around on the rug barefoot and make fists with your toes.” Spike looked at the man with mock surprise and tiredness, just wishing he could be out of the plane and on his way to see Buffy. “Fists with your toes?” he replied. “Maybe it's not a fist when it's your toes...I mean like this...work out that time zone tension.” The man was now demonstrating to Spike the ‘toe curling’ that he had decided to describe in detail.
“Better'n a cup of coffee and a hot shower for the old jet lag. I know it sounds crazy. Trust me. I've been doing it for nine years.” The salesman finally stopped talking as the plane stopped. ‘about bloody time’ Spike thought to himself. Passengers rose from their seats and started to take down overhead luggage. Spike followed suit but as he opened the door above, the businessman grew pale seeing Spike’s baretta pistol peeking out from his jacket. Recognizing the look, McClane smiled reassuringly. “It's okay.” Spike reached for his belt and showed him his L.A.P.D police bade, “I'm a cop. Trust me. I've been doing it for eleven years.”
The businessman relaxed and moved off. Spike now wrestled down the biggest Teddy Bear FAO Schwartz had to offer. Balancing it, he moved down to another overhead, taking out a black leather duster and an overnight bag. Barely managing all this, he turned and made his way off the plane.
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At the Nakatomi building, the Christmas party was in full swing. The cork in a bottle of Dom Perignon burst, and flew across the room. In the middle of the room a massive Christmas tree, beautifully decorated stood tall and proud, and cheesy Christmas music filled the room, mixed with the excited, and drunken chit chat of the office workers. A Japanese man, mid-fifties stood on a desk holding up the bottle triumphantly and looked out at an adoring audience of junior executives and office personnel. His name was Joseph Takagi, Senior Vice President. of Sales for Nakatomi, a multinational corporation. As he spoke the crowd fell silent. “Ladies and gentlemen...I congratulate each and every one of you for making this one of the greatest days in the history of the Nakatomi corporation...”
Further down the corridor, obviously still at work, an attractive business woman in her late twenties was studying a computer printout, heading toward her office. She had long blonde hair, and green eyes that reflected the Christmas lights all around making it seem as though her eyes were the window to the universe. She was dressed in tight dark jeans, and a black strappy shirt with white lace covering the edge above her breasts. Parker Abrams fell into step behind her. He was in his late thirties and Vice President. of Sales. Well-dressed, with stylish, slicked-back hair, he looked and acted very smooth. “What about dinner?” Parker asked her. She sighed and looked at him briefly but kept on walking to her office “Parker, it's Christmas Eve. Families... Stockings...chestnuts...Rudolph and Frosty...those things ring a bell?” As they reached her office they entered, the name plate on her door read ‘Ms Buffy Summers’.
She placed the printouts down on her secretary's desk as Parker piped up again “I was thinking more of roaring fireplaces...mulled wine and a nice brie...” Buffy ignored the come-on, turning to her secretary. She was quite petite, with shoulder length red hair “Willow it's 6:40, you're making me feel like Ebeneezer Scrooge. Go on out to the party, have some champagne.” Willow slowly manipulated herself out of her seat, revealing how enormously pregnant she was. “Thanks Ms Summers.” Willow said gratefully, then rather worried, “Do you think the baby can handle a little sip?
Buffy eyed her “Will, that baby's ready to tend bar.” Parker still hadn’t given up “How about tomorrow night?” Buffy just pointed to the door. He finally got the message and followed Willow out. Buffy reached for the phone on her desk and pressed speed dial 1.
At home five-year old Anne McClane raced her younger brother William to the phone. Both the children had blonde hair and blue eyes. Anne, won the wrestling match, and answered the phone with a sense of importance. “McClane residence. Anne McClane speaking.” Buffy suddenly smiled. It was the first time she had smiled in a long time, speaking volumes about the person hidden under the tough business exterior. “Hello, Anne McClane. This is your mother.” Anne jumped up and down smiling giddily “Mommy! When are you coming home?!” Buffy sighed “Soon. You'll be in bed when I get there, though.” Anne looked disappointed ”Will you come say 'good night'?” “Don't I always, you goose?” Buffy smiled again, clearly enjoying the sound of Anne’s giggling, “Now put Glory on the line, and no searching the house for presents!” Obviously having already done so Anne smiled innocently as if her mother could actually see her. “I didn't look in the front closet under the steps! Is Daddy coming home with you?” Anne asked her mother. On hearing this William started jumping up and down happily “Yeah! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy…” Then he paused” …and a Captain Power!“ Buffy looked to the floor and started playing with a loose strand of hair ”Well, we'll see what Santa and Mommy can do.” Buffy had so hoped that Spike was coming home for Christmas but upon their last conversation, it was unlikely he would be there, something about a backlog of New York scumbags. She took in a breath. “Goose, put Glory on, okay?
Anne handed the phone to a young Salvadorian woman. She put the phone to her ear, “Hello, Mrs. Buffy. You coming home soon?” Glory asked her. “I'm working on it…Did Mr. McClane call?” Buffy asked their housekeeper. “No ma'am.” Came the reply. Buffy hid a trace of disappointment. She tried to sound confident and hopeful “Well...maybe there wasn't time before the flight. I’ll talk to you later Glory” “Yes, Mrs. Buffy, later”
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Spike was now wearing his leather duster and carrying the teddy and his carry on bag. He walked down the American Airlines ramp and into the terminal. Avoiding one near-collision involving the stuffed animal, an act which drove him into another fender bender, he re positioned the items he was carrying and headed into the waiting area. Family reunions were going on all around him as grandparents greeted their children and grand children, young wives greeting uniformed soldiers. Spike watched, moved by the sight, then looked around the waiting area, just on the off chance his family might be waiting. Instead he spotted a thin, gangling black guy in an ill-fitting chauffeur's uniform. As he waited he drummed a rhythm on a "Nakatomi Corporation" card with S. McCLANE written on it in magic marker. Spike paused in front of him, unsure. “I'm Spike McClane.” The black guy spoke “Robin Wood I'm your limo driver. Hey, nice bag.” He turned and started walking. Spike paced him, still juggling the bag and giant animal. “Robin. Don't you take this stuff?” Spike asked, slight irritation showing in his voice. Robin stopped. “Do I? I'm sorry. You're gonna have to help me, man. This is my first time driving a limo.” He smiled sheepishly. Spike smiled back, “That's okay. This is my first time riding in one.”
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In the limo, both Robin and Spike were in the front seats. Spike seemed a little edgy, “Just kick back and relax, man. We got everything you need: CD, CB, TV, VHS, telephone, full bar.” Robin said cheerily. He looked in the back seat, which was occupied by the bear. “If your friend is hot to trot...I know a couple of mama bears…” He stopped and turned to look at Spike, ”...Or is he married?”
Spike smiled and looked at the ring on his ringer. “Married.” Or at least he still hoped so. The last time he and Buffy had spoken, they had argued about how he never spent any time with them any more, and how he might not be able to come home for Christmas.
Spike tried to get comfortable, scowling as a rustling noise revealed wrappers and empty packets of snacks. He scowled at Robin, who tried to look as innocent as possible. “The girl was off today. Hey, I didn't expect you to sit up front. So, your lady live out here?” Spike was getting tired of Robins constant chatter. “The past six months.” Robin stopped and thought for a few seconds. “Meanwhile, you still live in New York?” ‘Well he’s a bright one isn’t he’ Spike thought to himself. “You're nosey, you know that, Robin?” Spike sighed in exasperation. ”Hey, I'm sorry. When I was a cabdriver, see, people expected a little
chit chat, a little eccentricity and comaraderie, I forgot how stuck up you limo guys were, so excuse me.” This lightened the mood a little, and Spike began to find Robin rather amusing. “It's okay, it's okay.”
As soon as Spike stopped speaking, Robin resumed, “So, you divorced of what?” Spike finally gave up, and decided to answer his questions as briefly as he could. “She had a good job, it turned into great career.” Spike said solemnly. Robin followed almost instantly “But meant her moving here.” “Closer to Japan. You're fast.” Spike said . “So, why didn't you come?” Robin asked. “'Cause I'm a New York cop and I got six months backlog of New York scumbags I'm still trying to put behind bars. I don't just get up and move.”
“You mean you thought she wouldn't make it out here and she'd come crawling on back, so why bother to pack?” Spike grinned, he liked Robin even if he was a little too direct. “Like I said, Robin...you're fast.”
Robin reached down and pulled out a cassette, placing it in the player on the dash. “Mind if I play some tunes?” A hard rap song blasted from the speakers. Spike cringed, “How 'bout some Christmas music?” Robin just looked as cheerful as ever, “That is Christmas music.” He said, while drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and bopping his head along to the beat. Spike gave up as, the Fat Boys of Run DMC doing a revisionist number on ‘White Christmas’ or something blared through the speakers. He gave up, and turned to staring out the window trying to ignore the music, if you could call it that!
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The limo pulled up outside the Nakatomi building. It loomed over them and the shiny windows glinted as they caught the last rays of the setting sun. As Robin stopped the limo outside the front entrance, he got out. Spike let himself out, which was fine because Robin hadn’t remembered he was supposed to do it. They both went to the rear of the vehicle.
“So, you go on upstairs to the party, your lady sees you, you run into each other's arms. Music comes up, you live happily ever after, that it?” Robin said. Spike smiled “It's corny, but I could live with it.” Robin still hadn’t opened the trunk “What if it don't work out that way? Where you gonna stay?” Spike sighed “I'll find someplace.”
He looked up at the high-rise lit by huge spotlights, then back at Robin who still made no attempt to open the trunk. “ Tell you what. I'll pull into the parking garage and wait. You score with your wife give me a call on the car phone and I'll leave your bags inside at the desk. You strike out... I'll get you to a hotel.” He handed Spike a business card with the number on it. Spike took the card. “You're all right, Robin.” “Just remember that when you sign for the tip.” He pointed to the building
“They're paying for it, so don't be shy.” Spike laughed and headed inside.
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Spike walked into the building, and entered the lobby, which seemed deserted. Suddenly a sound in the sterile lobby revealed the presence of a security guard hidden behind a massive desk. Spike walked up to the desk to sign in. He spoke to the guard behind the desk, “Buffy McClane” The Guard pointed to a prominent touch screen computer console, clearly peeved that he was working on Christmas eve. ”Just type it in there.” Spike was confused for a moment, then he moved to the screen. He looked at the who Guard raises his eyebrows as to say ‘give it a try’.
He pressed the letter ‘M’ on the touch pad, and a list of employees with surnames beginning with ‘M’ appeared on the screen. The first screen listed no ‘McClane’, so Spike pressed the ‘next screen’ button. The last few employee’s with ‘M’ surnames came up, but there was no ‘McClane’
Spike was puzzled, and thought for a few seconds, then sighed. Now back on the original screen he pressed ‘S’ and a list of ‘S’ surnames came up. “Jesus Christ” Spike mumbled to himself, running a hand through his slicked back platinum locks as he saw ‘Buffy Summers’ listed under the names. He pressed the ‘SUMMERS, Buffy’ icon and an elevation of the building and then a floor plan of the 30th floor came up with Buffy's office flashing on the screen. ”Cute toy.” Spike said, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice. “Yeah. When you have to take a leak it'll help you find your zipper.” The guard said. “Thirtieth floor...” Spike asked “Take the express elevator and get off at the noise.” The guard told him.
Spike nodded and walked off. He move to the elevators, and as he did so his experienced eye took in another security guard patrolling a different area, several high tech cameras and sensors, which are cleverly worked into the decor of the lobby. Spike McClane reacted with bored professionalism, nodding to the guard.
“Lots of hardware...” The guard simply shrugged shrugs. Spike got in the elevator and hit the "30" button, as the doors closed and he started to climb the floors and He rotated his head, getting out the travel cricks. The same thing going over and over in his head, ‘Buffy Summers, not Buffy McClane or even Buffy Summers McClane’.
As he approached the 30th floor a tremendous thumping, throbbing noise could be heard even through the thick steel doors. Spike stopped and listened before he
realised it was the Christmas party. As the doors open the noise filled the elevator and Spike stepped out into the overcrowded floor.
He moved around the edge of the party, gradually spiralling inward. He grabbed a glass of Mimosa champagne punch from a passing tray, sipped it...and scowled. ‘Why can’t they just settle for a bloody simple Jack D. Spotting open beers in
an ice bucket, he tossed the punch into a potted plant, even burying the plastic glass. Sipping the beer, he moves through the dense party. Suddenly he was attacked by people he didn't even know throwing streamers over him.
A woman kissed him on the cheek as does a man who is clearly as pissed as hell before moving on. He shook his head ‘California...’ Finally he found someone who didn’t want to thrown themselves over him. He queried her, the music drowning out what they were saying but she but she nodded all the same, pointing off in some generic direction.
Spike headed that way, cutting around a Christmas tree, losing his bearings. He sees Joseph Takagi, not knowing who he is, but sensing an air of authority about him. He went up to him.” Excuse me, I'm looking for…” But Takagi finished for him “Buffy Summers” Spike was astonished, “Yeah. How'd you know?” Takagi smiled, “I've spent half my life on airplanes, I can recognize someone who just got off one.” He shook Spike’s hand ”I'm Joe Takagi, Mr. McClane. I have...something to do with this company.” Spike laughed “So I've heard.” Takagi smiled, leading the way.
As they approached Buffy's office door, Spike noticed the name there is -- again – ‘Summers’. “Buffy went to the Vault room to FAX some documents...she should be back any...” Mr Takagi stopped as they entered Buffy’s office and saw Parker behind the desk, sniffing something and just as they come in he swept the back of the slick desktop with his hand. Both Spike and Takagi catch on...but Takagi tried to hide
his awareness. Parker tried to come up with an excuse, but did rather a poor job “Ah...hi...I just had to make a quick call, and this was the nearest phone...” As Parker rose from the seat, Mr Takagi spoke. “Parker, this is Spike McClane...” Then continuing with meaning in his voice, Buffy's policeman?” Mr Takagi turned to Spike “Parker Abrams is in charge of International Acquisitions.” Spike shook hands with Parker, he already didn’t like this guy. ”That explains the recent deal with Bolivia.” Spike quipped. Parker reacted, running a checking finger under his nose. “Relax, Parker. I'm off duty.” Mr Takagi was eager to change the subject, and turned to Spike. “Can I get you anything? Food? Cake? Watered down champagne punch?” Spike grinned “I'm fine.” Then looking through the glass he said “You throw quite a party. I didn't know they had Christmas in Japan.” Takagi smiled “Hey, we're flexible. Pearl Harbour didn't work out, we got you with tape decks.”
Spike laughed, god he wished his boss was as funny and laid back as this guy. Buffy was a lucky woman. Parker spoke again, much to Spike’s annoyance. “Actually, it's kind of a double celebration. We closed a pretty big deal today and a lot of it was due to Buffy.
Just then the door opened and Buffy stepped in thinking that it was just Mr Takagi in the room. Spike’s heart leapt when he saw her, it had been too long. “All set, Joe. The contracts went over the wire, and…Spike” Buffy stopped as she saw him, standing there. What was he doing here, and had he been working out?! God he looked good.
The sound of the party drowned out and he felt like he was falling, and he wanted to land next to her and hold her close.
She finally found her voice again “I was hoping you made that flight.” Spike replied quietly “I was hoping you were hoping that.” Buffy laughed and walked over to him. She touched his hand with hers and leant up to place a light kiss on his lips. They both felt the familiar electricity flow through them when their bodies touched.
She stepped back, and Spike looked her up and down. She looked amazing, better than amazing. She was the vision of perfectness to him. How could he have spent so much time away from this woman. Mr Takagi spoke and interrupted his thoughts. “Your wife's made for this business. She know how to drive a hard bargain.” Spike smiled, “Yeah. I remember our first date.” Buffy looked at him and a small smile played on her lips. “Show him the watch.” Parker interrupted, no thought to what was going on between these two people. ‘way to spoil a moment you git’ Buffy though, and smiled internally as she realised how she’d picked up on Spike’s insults over the years. She hesitated. “Go on, show him. “What're you, embarrassed?” Parker turned to Spike, “A little token of our appreciation for all her work.” Parker took her wrist and held it up. Spike smoothly took Buffy’s wrist from Parker’s grasp, and looked at the watch. “Nice, but one of us is three hours out of sync. I think it's me.” He looked at Buffy pointedly. ”Is there a place I can wash up?” Buffy was happy for an excuse, “Sure. Follow me.” Spike followed Buffy into her private bathroom, as Takagi ushered Parker out of the office. Unbeknown to them, things were starting to happen that would change the course or their lives forever…
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An Emory freight truck turned off Olympic Blvd into the underground garage of Nakatomi. It travelled down the ramp and passed Robin's black limo but the drivers seat was empty. Robin was sitting in the back seat hidden from the outside world by the tinted rear windows. He made himself a drink from the bar with the TV on and his rap music blasting from the cassette player, oblivious to the truck passing behind him.
The Emory truck stopped in front of the service elevator on the next level down. As the truck stood inactive, the uniformed driver made a note on his clipboard.
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Spike sat on top of the closed toilet seat, his shoes now removed he was clenching and unclenching his toes. The tension in his body started to actually flow away. “Son-of-a-bitch. It works.” Spike laughed to himself.
In her office Buffy sat on the desk watching Spike remove his duster, and both of his shirts. Her heart lurched in her chest as she saw the muscles under his shirt, well toned, firmer and stronger than she remembered, What was she doing, keeping herself from this man. She couldn’t keep doing this pretending she was ok with the distance that kept them apart. ”What are you doing?” Buffy asked him. “It's a long story. You know, I that Parker has his eye on you.” Buffy smiled. “That's okay...” Spike’s stomach sank, has she started developing feelings for someone else? “... I have an eye on his private bathroom.” Buffy finished and Spike’s stomach returned to its normal position. “So, where are you staying? This all happened so fast I didn't even ask you on the phone.” Spike finished drying his face and stepped to the bath doorway. ” Well, Cappy Roberts retired out here a couple years ago. He said I could bunk with him.” Buffy felt disappointment rip through her.”Oh...Where does he live?” “Ramona...no, Pomona, that's it.” Spike said. “Pomona! You'll be in the car the whole time...Look, let's make this easy. Come home. The kids would love to
have you at the house.” Buffy said. ”They would huh?” Spike asked her. “I would too.” Buffy said quietly. They locked eyes for a instant, an intense moment that
says a lot about how they still feel about each other. Just then a man and a woman, both a little tipsy, opened the door to the office, seeing that it's occupied make a hasty retreat. The interruption temporarily dents the mood. Buffy tries to smile, but for Spike it's the last frustration. “I've missed you.” Buffy whispered “Especially my name. You must miss it every time you write a check. When did you start calling yourself just 'Ms. Summers’'?” Caught, she answered him. “This is a Japanese company, you know? They figure a married woman, she's on the way out the door...” Spike interrupted her, “Sure. It's unnerving. I remember this one particular married woman, she went out the door so fast there was practically a jetwash...I mean, talk about your wind chill factor...” Buffy sighed, ”Didn't we have this same conversation in July? Damn it, Spike, there was an opportunity out here -- I had to take it …” “No matter what it did to our marriage -- ?” Buffy was getting annoyed now. “My job and my title and my salary did nothing to our marriage except change your idea of what it should be.” Spike stepped further into the room. ”Oh, here it comes. One of those 'meaningful relationship conversations.' I never should've let you get those magazine subscriptions –“ Buffy lost it then. “You want to know my idea of a marriage? It's a partnership where people help each other over the rough spots -- console each other when there's a down...and when there's an up, well, hell, a little Goddamn applause or an attaboy wouldn't be too bad.” Buffy took in a breath, then continued quietly. ”I deserved that. I needed that, I needed you Spike.” A tear rolled down her cheek. Spike steps towards her. “I’m sorry I didn’t…” Just then the door opens and Willow leans inside. ”Miz Summers? Mr. Takagi is looking for you...he wants you to say something to the troops...” Buffy looked up at her. “Thanks, Willow. I'll be a second. “ Willow nods and leaves the room. Buffy turned back to Spike “I'll be a few minutes. Wait here –“ She smiles at him. She is about to leave, when Spike grabbed her arm lightly, he ran the tip of his finger under her eyes to wipe away the mascara that had run from the tears. “Don't I always?” She turned and walked out of the room. Immediately, Spike slapped his forehead, contrite. ”Schmuck!”
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The Guard at the front desk notices the Emory truck on his monitor and continues to watch and only half notices a Mercedes pulling up in front of the
building and two extremely well-dressed business men in their late twenties climb out and start up the stairs for the door, and cross the lobby to sign it at the guard’s desk. One of the men, called Theo was animatedly chatting to the other guy, Karl. ”So, Kareem rebounds -- listen, this is a great play -- feeds Worthy on the break, over to A.C., to Magic, back to Worthy in the lane and…” Suddenly Karl pulls out a Walther pistol with a silencer and aims it at the Guard's forehead. Before the
Guard can react he pulls the trigger. Theo yells ironically “Boom...two points!
Theo vaults over the desk , kicking over the dead security guard in the process. Karl moves behind the desk, stepping over a small pool of blood from the Guard. Karl is big, with long blond hair like a rock drummer. Karltakes off the silencer and looks at the video monitor of the Emory truck. Theo, opens his briefcase, takes out a portable CB radio and speaks into it. “We're in.”
The truck driver nods at the security camera as several men climb out of the rear of the van and begin unloading wooden crates by the service elevator.
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McClane looks at all the lavishness around him and picks up a phone by the toilet, while pulling his t-shit back on He opens his wallet and takes out the number Robin gave him. A photo of his children stops him. It's of Buffy, Anne, William and himself in happier days, six months ago, before Nakatomi came calling to Buffy's door. Spike flips it over. On the back in crude but painstaking
hand of a five-year-old it says: WE MISS YOU, DADDY. LOVE ANNE (and in more primitive letters) WILLIAM.
Spike returned the photo to his wallet, and dialled the number.
Meanwhile down in the lobby…
Theo enters the small control room and comfortably sits behind a maintenance keyboard. Whistling a vaguely familiar tune, he typed in some commands and locked down the passenger elevators up to the 30th floor. Then with several more computer commands, he systematically causes, the heavy steel gates to the parking garage to close and the escalators to the garage to come to a stop. Theo finishes typing and disconnects the keyboard and pulls out the wires from beneath the panel.
The doors to a service elevator open to reveal Adam Walsh impeccably dressed, lean and handsome, he steps out into the lobby like he owns the building.
Theo steps to the door of the control room and tosses Adam a computer card
Adam went to the front door and the card over a magnetic plate. An LED blinks and the door locks with a thud. Adam looked out at the street. Appropriately enough, "not a creature is stirring." Century City is quiet.
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An elevator opened revealing ten more men, all armed with Kalashnikov machine guns are carrying canvas kit bags. One of them, Eddie, a rugged American in his twenties, went to the dead guard and immediately began changing into his cloths.
Meanwhile…
Karl took a tool case from the elevator and joined his brother Tony, playfully grabbing him. They head for the basement stairwell as Theo leaves the control room and nods to Adam. Eddie finished adjusting buttons and snapped on his
pilfered uniform, takes his position behind the front desk.
Adam looked down at his watch and seemed pleased. He stepped into the service
elevator with the others and pressed the button for the 30th floor. The entire sequence couldn’t have taken more than sixty seconds.
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Spike was still barefoot, his jeans now rolled up above his ankles. He stretches his toes again and lights up a new Marlboro, before dialling a number on the bathroom phone.
In the building basement Tony stood in front of an intimidating matrix of phone lines – but what he had in mind wouldn’t require a doctorate in Electrical
Engineering. Karl came over, giving his an elder brother a punch on the arm, pointing out what to do. Together they focus on four CPV plastic conduits which run out of the main panel over their heads. Tony nods, opening a case revealing a compact electric chainsaw.
In the bathroom, Spike final managed to get through to Robin. “Hey, Spike, what's the word on you and your lady?” “The vote's not in yet.” Spike replied simply “'Vote's not in yet?' What's that supposed to mean.” Robin asked. Spike sighed. “What do you want, 'All My Children'? We're making progress. After I get my foot out of my mouth, we'll really be cooking, and then I can…” The phone line went dead as Karl cut through all four tubes. Spike gently tapped the phone cradle, but heard no dial tone. Robin looked confused, ”What?...Mr. Mac, you there?” He turned down the music that was blaring away but there is on one on the line. Then he spoke to himself. “Well, call me back, Spike. You got the number.” He hung up and turned the volume back up.
Spike hung up the original phone and then tried the other one on the desk. It, too, was dead.
In the service elevator, Adam and the others approached the 30th floor. As they grew closer, the noise of the speakers grew louder and louder. The men cocked their weapons and braced themselves as the car stopped and the elevator doors open. They piled out and began firing their guns into the air.
In the office, Spike heard the gun shots and screams and grabbed his shoulder harness off the back of the chair, moving quickly to the doorway. He looked down the hall. He could see , two terrorists armed with M-5 machine guns searching the offices on the hall one by one. They opened a door, looked in from the hallway, and moved on quickly to the next.
They were four offices away and moving fast. Spike looked across the corridor and saw the stairwell door, too far to reach without being seen He stepped back, throwing off the safety on his Beretta and braced himself. ‘Shit, shit, shit where’s Buffy?’ He opened the door, peering through a crack and Spike's eyes scanned their weapons...he was totally outgunned, and he knew it. Looking further down the hallway, it was as though he saw everything in slow motion. He saw the swish of blonde hair, and Buffy turned her head back while being forced forwards by some terrorist with a machine gun. Her eyes locked with Spike’s in a desperate last plea of ‘I love you’ before the terrorist pushed her around the corner. ‘God, no Buffy,’
The two terrorists Franco and Fritz reached the office just before Buffy’s and threw
open the door revealing the man and woman who interrupted Buffy and Spike a few minutes before, now in the throes of passionate lovemaking on the desk. The two terrorists smiled at each other, then entered the office. A moment later the man, (trying desperately to pull up his pants) and the woman (buttoning her blouse) were pushed out into the hall and toward the larger group by Fritz. The other terrorist, Franco, went to Buffy’s office and opens the door.
It was...empty.
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Ok so I was watching Die Hard the other day and thought it would be a great idea to rewrite it, Spuffy style. What did you think?
(AN-: if you are reading my other fic, 'Can I Keep You', i have a little more of the next chaoter to write and i will post it as soon as it is done, possibly by the end of today.)
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