Disclaimer-: I own none of the buffyverse characters or the storyline of Die Hard. I just mixed the two together and voila!
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In a TV studio, a police scanner picked up the police broadcasts. A local TV news reporter, Riley Finn was on the phone to his girlfriend.
“Of course I can get us a table, Wolfgang and me, we're like that. I interviewed him...hold on, babe...”
He covered the mouthpiece, after becoming aware of what was coming from the scanner.
“…attention all units. Officer pinned down by automatic weapon fire at Nakatomi, Century City…request assistance…”
Intermixed with the broadcast was the officer’s voice,
“…guys, you want to cut through the red tape? They practically turned this car into Swiss cheese…!
Riley smiled,
“All right...!”
He dropped the phone, picking up another shouting…
“Mary, this is Finn. I want a remote truck and a crew to meet me at the South gate in fifteen minutes...Damn right, fifteen...Where are we going?” He paused, and heard gun shots coming from the scanner and grinned.
“…For an Emmy!”
Riley ran from the room to make sure he was looking perfect for what was to be the biggest broadcast of his entire life, leaving his annoyed girlfriend calling his name on the other phone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At the Nakatomi building sirens could be heard as the first few police cars arrived. The officer saw them and waved them back pointing to the third floor.
On the hostage floor, Parker leant back and closed his eyes, luxuriating in the sound of wailing police sirens. He looked at Buffy
“I never through I'd love to hear that sound.”
In Buffy’s office Adam, Karl, Fritz and Franco conferred. In mid speech he heard the police sirens arriving.
“All of you, stay at your posts! We knew that police action was inevitable...” an odd smile formed on his lips “...In fact, it's necessary. So let them start their feeble efforts; until them, stay calm. We have the hostages, remember. We are still in charge.”
Suddenly Adam’s radio crackled to life. He picked it up and spoke harshly,
“I told all of you...I want radio silence until further…”
On the thirty fourth floor Spike had a CB radio on, and his cop's notebook out again. He had already upgraded the ‘number of terrorists?’ to "12 minus 3 = 9" and added other information. As he
speaks he took ammo clips the dead men had dropped as well as their sidearms.
“Gee, I'm sorry, Adam, nobody gave me the message. You shoulda put it on the bulletin board. Anyway, I thought you and Franco and Karl and the other boys might be lonely, now that I waxed Tony and Marco and their buddy. So I invited some of the guys from my card game.”
In Buffy’s office, they all reacted, startled as Spike name dropped
“How...how does he know so much about…” Franco stammered, but Adam waved his hand for silence and spoke into the radio.
“Ah, how nice of you to call. I assume you are our mysterious party crasher. You are most troublesome for a...security guard?”
Spike was moving down the corridor noow armed with Marco's machine gun and carrying Heinrich's kit bag. he seems more lethal. Into the radio Spike made the sound of a buzzer that indicates a wrong answer on a game show.
“Sorry, Adam, wrong guess. Would you like to go for Double Jeopardy, where the stakes are double and the scores really change?”
Spike turned Heinrich over and was delighted to find a pack of Marlboro in the man's pocket. He took them and patted the dead man’s face then whispered to him…
“Bad for your health anyway.”
Adam’s voice came over the radio.
“Who are you, then?”
“Just the fly in the ointment, Adam. The monkey in the wrench, the pain in the ass…”
Spike stopped in mid-speech after opening the kit bag Heinrich had over his shoulder when he died. He took out the contents...dozens and dozens of explosive detonators marked “Danger” and a chunk or cello-wrapped plastique the size of an electric razor, and whistled surprise to himself.
In the office, Adam turned off his mike for a moment, and turned to Karl.
“Check on all the others...don't use the radio. See if he's lying about Marco, and find out if anyone else is missing.” *
Adam went back to the CB. Spike smiled at the tell-tale static as Adam’s radio went off and on. He knew what was happening. Now, he started to walk down a corridor, eyes panning from the elevator to the stairwell doors.
“Mr. Mystery Guest. Are you still there?” Adam asked.
“I wouldn't think of leaving, Adam. 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?” Then Adam spoke scornfully. “Just another man who saw too many movies as a child. Another orphan of a bankrupt culture who thinks he's John Wayne...Rambo... Marshal Dillion.”
“Actually, I was always partial to Roy Rogers. I really dug those sequined shirts.” Spike replied
Then Adam’s tone changed from subtle and calm to harsh.
“Do you really think you have a chance against us, Mr. Cowboy?”
Spike saw a light blink on the elevator and waited before sending one last message to Adam, for the time being anyway.
“Yipee-yi-yea...mother-fucker.”
Spike entered the stairwell quietly and was gone by the time the search party stepped out of the elevator.
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Karl stepped off the elevator and went through the crowd of hostages to Adam and spoke quietly.
“He wasn't lying about Marco: He's thirty stories down on the street. The other man is Heinrich, and I found his body upstairs.” Karl paused, Adam was going to be pissed about the next bit of news. From Karl’s impromptu silence Adam could tell there was something else.. Karl finally added…
“…And his bag is missing.”
“He had the detonators!” Adam was fuming. He picked up the CB
“Theo. Theo.”
In the drill room Theo along with Kristoff, had drilled two holes in the safe and was working on a third when he heard the CB. He turned off the drill and answered.
“Yo!”
“We may have some problems. How is your schedule?”
Theo moved to his computer screen which showed a schematic of the safe.
“Three down, four to go…”
“Then don't waste time talking to me.” Adam told him.
Suddenly all of the terrorists reacted to a nearby CB transmitter.
“This is Sergeant Xander Harris of the Los Angeles Police Department. If the person who radioed for help on this channel can hear me, acknowledge this transmission...I say again...”
On the thirty third floor Spike responded to the transmission.
“I read you, Harris. You the guy in the car?”
Xander stood in front of his destroyed cruiser and looked up at the building. Behind him technicians, City Power and Light personnel, SWAT officers in protective gear, arrived from all directions and a trailer was being backed into a parking lot.
“What's left of him. Can you identify yourself?” Xander asked.
Adam and Karl listened intently, would he slip up? Buft Spike knew giving them his name would be like strapping a sign to himself saying ‘Shoot Me’ and walking out onto the thirtieth floor.
“Maybe later. Just listen fast because this is a party line and the neighbours are trigger happy. Now here's the skinny: There's thirty or so hostages on the thirtieth floor, with probably 2 or 3 guards to cover a group that size. The leader here is named Hans, and besides the pea shooter he ventilated your car with, they got machine guns and sidearms up the yin yang. On top of that one of 'em had a big enough chunck of plastic explosive to orbit Kate Smith.” *
On the thirtieth floor Franco was panicking.
“We have to find him and shut him up! He's telling them everything…”
Adam shook his head, calming.
“The police are irrelevant. We're waiting for the FBI. Until they *
arrive, we can't finish our work. Meanwhile, let this fool waste time
for the police. Fritz, go help Uli find the bag. We must find those detonators.”
“How many are there?” Xander asked.
Spike thought for a moment.
“Figuring there's at least one to cover the lobby, a couple with the hostages...I'd say they came in with about a dozen...but they're down to nine now, including the skydiver you already met. These guys are mostly Europeans, judging by their clothing labels, and they're well financed and very slick.”
“How do you know?”
“I've seen enough phoney ID's in my time to recognize that the ones they've got cost a fortune. Add all that up and I don't know what the fuck it means, but these are bad ass preps and they're here to stay.”
Everything Spike said about "clothing" and ID's and police jargon, set off a little buzzer in Xander’s brain.
“I hear you...” and on a hunch he added “…Partner. And LA's finest are on it, so light 'em if you got 'em.”
“I'm ahead of you...partner.” Spike responded, thanking whoever was up there watching him that the cop had realised he was one of their own.
“Uh, what do I call you?”
Spike smiled and thought ‘what the hell?
“’Roy’”.
“Got it...'Roy'. Now listen. If you think of anything else you think we need to know, don't be shy, okay? In the meantime I want you to find a safe place and hole-up and let us do our job. Understand?”
“They're all yours, Harris. Good luck.”
Spike turned off his CB and sat against the wall, pulling a cigarette from Heinrich’s pack and lighting it. He took a drag and rested his head back against the wall.
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An unmarked police car pulled up across the street from the Nakatomi building and a man in a sport coat climbs out. His face was warm but serious, the very fact that he was the Deputy Chief of Police Operations on a Christmas Eve gives some evidence to his position in the pecking order. His name was Rupert Giles and he moved brusquely past police technicians and went to the forward group of officers.
“Who's talking to them?” Giles asked, his British accent filled with authority.
Xander turned around.
“I am, Sir...Sergeant Xander Harris.”
“Rupert Giles. Well, what have you learned? What do they want?” Giles asked him.
“The terrorists? Don't know, Sir. We haven't heard a peep from them.”
Giles was puzzled. “Then who the hell have you been talking too?”
“We don't exactly know, Sir. He won't give us him name. He appears to be the man who called in the report...he's killed one of the terrorists for sure and claims he capped two others.”
“He claims? Harris, has it occurred to you he could be one of the terrorists, pulling your chain? Or some kind of nut case who…” Giles spoke exhaustibly.
“I don't think so, Sir. In fact... I think he's a cop. Maybe not LAPD, but definitely a badge.”
“How do you know?”
“A hunch. Things he said. Like, knowing how to recognize a phony ID…”
“Recognizing phony ID's? Christ, Harris, he could be a fucking bartender for all we know!”
The arrival of a remote news truck attracted Giles’ attention, and just beyond the barricades the truck slowed to a stop and Riley Finn stepped out and started supervising the positioning of cameras. out, starts supervising the positioning of cameras.
“Oh shit...” Giles sighed.
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On the thirtieth floor Adam examined building plans at Buffy’s desk. Behind him the TV was on, the sound muted. Adam looked up as Fritz brought Buffy in.
“I...have a request.” She spoke confidently, even though fear for Spike’s life coursed through her veins, as well as an overwhelming urge to shoot the guy in front of her with his own gun.
“Oh? What idiot put you in charge?” He asked mockingly.
“You did.” She replied evenly, and on his look added. “You murdered by Boss. Now...” she waved towards the hostages “They're looking to me. Personally I'd pass on the jab. I don't enjoy being this close to you.”
Adam was impressed by her candor, and she was easy enough on the eyes.
“Go on.”
“We have a pregnant woman out there…relax, she's not due for two weeks, but a marble floor isn't doing her back any good. I'd like permission for her to more to one of the offices where there's a sofa.” Buffy asked.
“No. But I'll have a sofa brought out to you. Good enough?”
“Good enough. And unless you like is messy, you'd better start taking us in groups to the bathroom.”
“Yes, you're right. It will be done.”
He nodded to one of his men, and Buffy was waved to the door.
“Mr. Takagi chose his people well, Mrs...?”
Buffy thought quickly “Summers. Miss Summers.”
Adam nodded, thoughtful, as Buffy left. Suddenly Adam noticed the TV. A slide "SPECIAL BULLETIN" had appeared. This changed to a shot of the Nakatomi building with "LIVE" supered over it. Riley Finn was in front of the camera.
“This is Riley Finn, speaking to you live from Century City... where Los Angeles has joined the sad but world wide fraternity whose only membership requirement is the awesome spectre of International Terrorism...”
In the back of the limo, Robin Wood, flicked through cannels. When he flicked onto the news report of the terrorist attack going on above him that he was oblivious to, he reached for the remote again , muttering,
“What else is new...?”
But as the camera pulled back to reveal the Nakatomi Building behind Finn, Robin became stunned.
“Holy shit...”
“We're told that the situation began some two hours ago when an unidentified party of men took over the building and sealed off all of its entrances and exits...” Riley continued.
Robin was already bailing out of the car, but then he saw the metal gates that had been locked down. He jumped back in the car and poured himself a stiff drink.
“Since all the telephone lines have been cut, the only contact with the building had been through the use of CB communicators which the terrorists brought with them. Strangely enough, so far the terrorists have not communicated directly with the police... but an unidentified man has had several conversations which seem to indicate...”
Robin nearly spilled his drink as he leant over the front seat nearly spilt his drink as he leant over the front seat and turned on the CB.
Outside, men and vehicles moved around, the snap of weapons and breeches could be heard and Xander picked up on this.
“What's going on?”
“What's it look like? We're going in.” Giles informed him.
Xander was flabbergasted.
“Going in...are you out of your mind? There's 30 hostages in there, for all we know…”
“…all we know? We don't know shit, Harris. If there's hostages why hasn't anyone asked for ransom? If there's terrorists, where's their goddamn list of demands? All we know is that someone shot up your car, and it could be the same flake you've been talking to on the radio!” Giles told him.
“What about the body that fell out of the window?”
“Who the hell knows? Maybe he was a stockbroker who looked at the Dow Jones and opted for early retirement!”
“Chief, we're ready.” A member of the SWAT team called Graham informed him.
“I'm coming.”
“Forrest.” Graham spoke into his mic.
“Yo.” Forrest replied
“Begin your reconnoiter.” Graham told him.
Inside the building, sadly realizing that the Marlboro pack had only two more to go, Spike savoured the dregs of his current number, then suddenly becomes aware of the almost eerie quiet. He moved to the window.
Spike could see hints of activity in the darkness, a light flare was extinguished and shadows moved on trailer walls. Spooked, he spoke into his CB.
“Harris? Xander, you still with me? What's going on? Xander?”
Outside, Xander stiffened, and Giles looked at him waringly, shaking his head.
“I'm here, Roy, but I'm, uh, kind of busy. Let's talk later, okay?”
“Xander, what's wrong? Did something…” Then the he realised what was happening and he felt sick to his stomach. If they were about to do what he thought they were about to do, then the terrorists might kill the hostages. The thought that Buffy could die made a cold fear wash over him and he felt like his insides were being yanked out thorough his mouth.
“Oh, God. You're coming in! That's it, isn't it? Christ, Harris, I told you what you're dealing with here…”
“I said we'll talk later, Roy. If you're what I think you are you should know when to listen, when to shut up... and when to pray.”
Hating himself Xander disconnected, watching lights snap on in the parking lot to illuminate the area.
Also hating himself, Spike did the same thing. Pale, he moved to a window to watch what he knew was going to be brutal.
In Buffy’s office, Adam hunched over his communicator.
“They'll be coming. Get ready. Theo, watch the screens. Be our eyes and ears. Wait until they're close.”
In the lobby, Eddie slipped away from the desk, a computer card in his hand. He met up with another terrorist and they moved behind a slit in the wall. Eddie waved his card at the sensor and a metal grid crashed into place. They held their weapons behind it, ready.
All around the building other terrorists moved about, CB’s attached with earphones, weapons ready. While outside, the SWAT team leader moved in SOP style to the door, scanning it carefully.
At the police barracks Graham listened to his CB.
“We're in position.” Forrest informed him.
Graham looked at Giles, who was visibly tense. Giles hesitated, then gave his approval with a nod.
“Go.” Graham spoke into his receiver.
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In the vault Kristoff drilled away and was rewarded with, the messageFIFTH LOCK DEACTIVATED. DO YOU WISH TO CONTINUE?’ Nearby, Theo sat at a bank of monitors. Screen after screen pinpointed all the police activity outside, down to the last detail. Theo smiled and spoke into a throat mike.
“It was the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, expect for… the four assholes coming in the rear in standard 2 X 2 cover formation.”
Eddie and Uli, took up prone firing positions, using the gaps in the steel partition like gunpoints.
Graham and Giles watched from behind the cover of a police car as the SWAT officers removed a portable welding torch and began cutting their way through the locks.
On the thirty third floor Spike moved painfully to the window and looked out. He couldn’t see a thing because of the lights and whispered to himself “No...”
Suddenly rifle fire sounded from the building.
Giles reacted worriedly.
“They're shooting at them!”
Graham however was perfectly calm.
“It's panic fire...they can't see anything.”
But Xander knew better and muttered under his breath,
“They're shooting at the lights.”
More shots rang out from the building going over the SWAT officers' heads and suddenly the huge dome of one of the spotlights shattered behind Graham and Giles’ head. The glow faded, and a moment later the next light, twenty feet away died too.
“They're going after the lights!” Giles yelled.
The two SWAT officers cutting the garage suddenly looked up as their cover started to disappear.
“Call them back.” Giles told Graham, but he refused.
“No, they're almost in.”
Suddenly the third and fourth lights were shot out and the SWAT men became sitting ducks.
In Buffy’s office Adam spoke calmly into his CB.
“Don't get impatient. Just wound them.”
Eddie and Uli fired, hitting one of the officers in the leg, the second one in the arm.
Graham shouted into his mic.
“
“Send in the car!
An armored car wheeled toward the building and started toward the wounded men.
In the service elevator, two terrorists quickly loaded in two crates onto the service and pushed the button for the 3rd floor. As the elevator started down, they removed an anti-tank gun from one of the crates.
“Well, what have we here. The police've got themselves an R.V. James, Alexander, southeast corner.” Theo spoke into his CB.
The service elevator arrived on the 3rd floor and James and Alexander moved across the room toward the windows with the anti-tank weapon. At the window, they prepared it for use.
Outside the window the armored car stopped in front of the wounded men and paramedics quickly loaded them in from the sheltered side of the vehicle. Alexander quickly sighted on the armored car.
He spoke to Adam over the CB.
“I have them”
“Fire.” Came Adam’s reply.
A blast roared from the third floor window and the shell hit the armoured car. The car pitched forward like a beast whose front legs had been shot out from under it, its front axle destroyed, unable to move. Alexander looked back at James and grinned.
Adam watched from the window and coldly picked up his CB.
“Hit it again.”
Spike could hear everything over the CB and grabbed it yelling angrily.
“Adam, you motherfucker, you've made your point. Let them pull back!”
“Thank you Mr. Cowboy, I'll take it under advisement. Hit it again.” Adam spoke callously.
Spike slumped to the floor below the window, feeling totally helpless. Then he noticed the kit bag.
At the police barricade, Giles and Graham looked on in horror as the armoured car sat helplessly on fire. On the police radio channel they could hear the screams of the men inside.
Graham yelled into his radio.
“Forrest! Rodriguiz!...Report...”
Forrest came through on the radio, shouting.
“This is Forrest. We've got one dead. Everybody's hit. Rodriguiz's bleeding bad. We've got to get the fuck out of here!”
“Rivers, hang on! That's an order! Hang on, we'll get you out.” Graham told him.
In the elevator car, James opened the box of shells and took two and started back across the room.
On the thirty third floor a plastic 208 explosive was sitting on the seat of a secretary's chair with castors. Spike pressed three detonators onto the top then covered the explosive with a typewriter, tying it securely in place with electrical cords.
Spike wheeled the chair to the service elevator, opened the door and blocked them with a fire axe. He looked, and could just see the top of the elevator car thirty five floors below.
Down below James handed the shell to Alexander, who expertly loaded it into the anti-tank gun. Alexander lifted the gun to his shoulder and aimed.
Spike pushed the chair down the elevator shaft and called after it,
“Geronimo...mother-fuckers.
For a long moment there was nothing, then, the shaft was filled with light, then an ungodly roar and Spike was thrown back across the elevator corridor by the concussion wave.
On the third floor the explosion, like a firestorm, ripped across the floor blowing out the machine gun, James, Alexander, shattering windows, sending desks, chairs, phones and typewriters flying.
On the avenue of the stars the police took cover behind their cars. Xander, Giles, and Graham looked like they had seen the face of God as the building rocked from the blast. One officers cigarette falls from his mouth as a desk was sent hurtling across Avenue of the Stars
into the trees across the street.
Down on the street Riley watched in awe.
“Unreal. Did you get all that?”
“Yep” replied the cameraman.
Riley looked at his competitors still setting up.
“Eat your heart out, Channel Four.”
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How was that for action?! Let me know what you thought. This chapter is dedicated to Sevvy_O, dreamgirl4eva, jenny and reciprocity.
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