OK, so from what Pari said, i gathered that my storytelling was too much like the actual movie. Well, i'm sorry if that put anyone off, and i will try to make it more Spuffy and less like the movie. The thing is, i've already written the next 2 chapters so i will post those both as one chapter and it will be in similar format to this, ie, not veering from the plot. But by chapter 6 i'll make a BIG change that wasn't in the plot of the Die Hard movie. I hope that will take away the 'P' work that may have been floating about in peoples minds.
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Disclaimer-: Please don't sue me Fox Studios! i only wanted to make Die Hard a spuffy story for us spuffy fans!
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On the thirtieth floor the hostages were shaken and the terrorists guarding them weren’t too sure of themselves either. Only Adam was calm and collected.
“They're using artillery on us!” Franco panicked.
“You idiot, it's not the police...It's him.” Adam told him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spike picked up the CB and spoke.
“Harris? Harris, the guys in the car, did they make it?”
Out on the street Xander watched as the survivors were pulled out of the wreck and to safety.
“Safe and sound, thanks to you. What the fuck was that?” Xander asked him.
“The plastique I found.” Then he asked worriedly, “Is the building on fire?”
“No, but it's gonna need one hell of a paint job and a shitload of screen doors. One spotter say you got two with that blast.”
“Two? Are you sure?”
But before Xander could answer Giles came running up to him.Before Powell can answer Robinson comes running up to him.
“Is that him?”
“Yes sir.”
Giles reached for Xander’s CB.
“Give me that.” The he yelled angrily at Spike. “Now, listen to me, mister, I don't know what you think you're doing, but demolishing a building doesn't fall under the definition of 'help'! There's hundreds of people out here and you covered half of them in pieces of glass…”
“Glass, my ass! Who the fuck is this?” Spike told him.
“This is Deputy Chief of Police Rupert Giles, and I'm in charge of this situation.”
Spike leaned tiredly against the elevator door.
“Well, from up here, it looks like you're in charge of shit, Rupert. I haven't seen such a fucked up operation since the Bride of Frankenstein. Ask the guys in the armoured car if they minded a little flying glass.”
“Listen asshole…!” Giles yelled.
The Spike really exploded.
“Asshole? I'm not the one who just got butt fucked on national TV, Rupert!”
Xander stifled a laugh, and several other authority figures around the car park with radios grinned in shock. Down in the limo, Robin yelled out his agreement.
“Now if you're not part of the solution, stop being part of the problem! Get off the Goddamn radio and put Xander back on!” Spike said. He was taking crap from no one now.
Robin nodded in agreement.
“Tell 'em, Mr. Mac! Tell 'em!”
Spike was still seething and then there was a long pause on the CB before Xander came on again.
“Hello, Roy. How're you feeling?”
“Pretty fucking unappreciated.” Spike told him.
Other officers, including Giles, monitored the conversation.
“Hey, I love you.” Xander told him, looking around “So do a lot of the guys. So hang in there, man. Hang in there.”
Spike was touched. “Thanks...partner.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On the hostage floor, Adam had wheeled a TV into the room with the terrorists. On the TV, a woman called Gail was reporting from a TV studio on the events at the Nakatomi building.
“...of the Nakatomi building, sources say that the terrorist leader 'Adam' may be this man, Adam Walsh.”
A slide of Adam appeared behind her.
“A member of the radical West German Volksfrei movement. Strangely, the Volksfrei leadership issued a communique an hour ago stating that Walsh has been expelled from the organization and is operating on his own.
Gail’s partner Harvey added, “Obviously, Gail whatever his affiliation, it's safe to say that Adam's terrorist actions in Los Angeles tonight are well, terroristic...”
As the bullshit continued, Parker suddenly stood, and headed towards the terrorist "office". Immediately Fritz moved to intercept him.
“Where are you going?” Buffy whispered.
“I'm tired of sitting here waiting to see who gets us killed first... them...or your husband.”
‘Shit, shit, if he says anything about Spike I’ll fucking kill him’ she mentally cursed.
Parker approached Fritz casually.
“Hi there.”
“What are you going to do?” Buffy asked.
“Hey, I negotiate million dollar deals for breakfast. I can handle these clowns.”
Then he turned to Fritz.
“I want to talk to Adam. Adam! Sprickenzie talk?”
He doesn't wait for an answer but walks straight on as Fritz follows him. Buffy looks on after him, worrying about what Parker would say to save his own ass, and how much of it could hurt Spike.
In the office Adam and Karl were arguing.
“You wouldn't let me kill him when I had the chance…”
“If you'd listened to me he would be neutralized already!”
“I don't want neutral...I want dead…” Karl yelled.
They all turn as they hear a tap on the door.
“Hope I'm not interrupting...?” Parker asked, clearly not caring if he was interrupting or not.
“What does he want?” Adam asked Fritz, who simply shrugged.
“It's not what I want, it's what I can give you. Look, let's be straight, okay? It's obvious you're not some dumb thug up here to snatch a few purses, am I right?” Parker told him.
Karl looked at Parker and then at Adam, as if to say, let me plug this asshole right now. But Hans was either amused or curious or bored enough to shake his head. He turned to Parker and spoke politely.
“You're very perceptive.”
Parker was flattered.
“Hey, I read the papers, I watch 60 minutes, I say to myself, these guys are professionals, they're motivated, they're happening. They want something. Now, personally, I don't care about your politics. Maybe you're pissed at the Camel Jockeys, maybe it's the Hebes, Northern Ireland, that's none of my business. I figure, You're here to negotiate, am I right?”
Adam replied in a condescending tone.
“You're amazing. You figured this all out already?”
“Hey, business is business. You use a gun, I use a fountain pen, what's the difference? To put it in my terms, you're here on a hostile takeover and you grab us for some greenmail but you didn't expect a poison pill was gonna be running around the building. Adam, baby...I'm your white knight.”
Adam spoke dryly. “I must have missed 60 Minutes. What are you saying?”
Parker smiled, knowing the next bit of information he was going to offer would be something they couldn’t refuse.
“The guy upstairs who's fucking things up? I can give him to you.”
Adam’s eyes lit up and he reacted with real interest for the first time.
Down in the car park, Xander heard Spike groan through the CB.
“Roy! You all right?” Xander asked him.
Inside Spike was sitting by an open desk drawer, having just ripped open a package of Twinkies he had found. He grimaced, mouth full, and responded.
“Yeah, just trying to handle some year old twinkies.” He managed to swallow the mouthful, and shook his head tyring to get rid of the foul after taste. He knew he had to eat something to keep up his strength but did these really qualify as food?
“Yucck. What do they put in these things?”
Xander unconsciously began to recite the ingredients to him.
“'Sugar, enriched flour, partially hydrogenated vegetable oil, polysorbate 60 and yellow dye number 5.'”
Spike chuckled into the CB,
“You sound like a man with a couple of kids.”
“Not yet, the wife in working on our first. You got any kids back on the ranch?”
Spike swallowed another Twinkie with a grimace, and pulled out his wallet. He flipped it to a picture of himself, Buffy and the kids in happier days. He smiled at the picture as he remembered how he felt when that photo had been taken, happy, content, then fucking vocations had to come along and screw it all up. As he looked at the picture he vowed that when this was all over and he had Buffy back in his arms he would never let anything come between them. Coming this close to death had made him realise just how much he should be valuing his life. He had an amazing wife who had taken so much and two kids who he loved unconditionally and wanted to watch grow up.
“Two. And I'd sure like to see them swinging on the jungle gym with Xander junior.”
“It's a date. You buy the ice cream.”
Spike laughed, staring at the photo when suddenly another voice bedie Xander’s came over the radio. It was the cruel and malicious voice of Adam.
“Touching, cowboy, touching… Or should I call you Mister McClane? Mister officer Spike McClane of the NYPD?”
‘Shit’ Spike cursed mentally. How much did they know. Fuck, fuck, if they knew his name, they might know Buffy was his wife…then he remembered the sign on her door which listed her as ‘Ms Buffy Summers’. Earlier he had been pissed at that fact, but now he was thanking god for it.
Outside in his trailer, Riley heard Spike’s real name spoken over the CB and wroted down the name handing it to his assistant.
“Get on the phone to our New York affiliate...move, move!”
Xander heard this too and signalled an Aide who wrote down the name too.
Spike fought with all his strength to stay calm.
“Sister Teresa in third grade called me Mr. McClane. My friends call me Spike Mac. You're neither...shithead.”
“I have someone who wants to talk to you. A very special friend who was at the party with you tonight.”
Spike’s face fell. ‘Fuck no, oh god, please no’. He closed his eyes, waiting for the voice that would tell him it was all over.
“Hello, Spike boy?”
Spike’s eyes flew open with a mix of shock and hope. That wasn’t Buffy, it was that got Parker.
“Parker?” He asked warily down the CB line. Was his mind playing some sick joke on him to make him think that he had heard Parker instead of Buffy?
Down in Buffy’s office Parker was smoking a cigarette and a terrorist handed him a diet coke. Treating him like he really was their white knight, as he had so ‘aptly’ described himself earlier.
“Spike, they're giving me a few minutes to try and talk some sense into you. I know you think you're doing your job, and I can appreciate that, but you're just dragging this thing out. None of us gets out of here until these people can negotiate with the LA police, and they're just not gonna start doing that until you stop messing up the works.”
“Parker, what have you told them?” Spike asked carefully.
“I told them we're old friends and you were my guest at the party.”
Spike sighed partially relieved, then his eyes narrowed,
“Parker...you shouldn't be doing this...”
“Tell me about it.”
He looked at Adam who gave him a nod.
“All right...Spike, listen to me... They want you to tell them where the detonators are. They know people are listening. They want the detonators of they're going to kill me.”
Parker gave Adam a big ‘OK’ sign, and Adam returned it. Ellis gives Hans a big "ok" sign. Hans returns it.
In the police trailer they were all listening intently. Spike closed his eyes and leant his head back. He knew what was going to happen, even if Parker, the poor bastard that he was, didn’t.
“Spike, didn't you hear me?”
“Yeah, I hear you, you fucking moron!” Spike spoke quietly into his CB.
“Spike, I think you could get with the program a little. The police are here now. It's their problem. Tell these guys where the detonators are so no one else gets hurt. Hey, I'm putting my life on the line for you buddy...”
“Don't you think I know that! Put Adam on! Adam, listen to me, that shithead doesn't know what kind of scum you are, but I do…”
“Good. Then you'll give us what we want and save your friend's life. You're not part of this equation. It's time to realize that.”
Adam told him, taking out his gun and pointing it at Parker’s head, smiling. Parker smiled back.
“What am I, a method actor? Adam, babe, put away the gun. This is radio, not television...”
Spike hearing that a gun had just been put into the equation stood up quickly and bellowed down the CB.
“That asshole's not my friend! I barely know him! I hate his fucking guts…” Spike pleaded with Parker.
Spike knew how much he had pissed the terrorists off, and they were just itching to get some revenge on him, or someone close to him.
“Parker, for Christ's sake, tell him you don't mean shit to me…”
“Spike, how can you say that, after all these years…? Spike? Spike?”
But all he heard was silence. Parker looked at Adam and shrugged as if to say, ‘well I tried’. and
Adam nodded understandably, then took the CB, pressing the TALK button and in one frighteningly smooth motion brought the Walther up to Parker’s forehead and pulled the trigger.
Spike was expecting the shot, but the shock and the fact that he had killed him sent a chill racing though him.
On the hostage floor, Buffy knew that it had been suicide. She lowered her head dejectedly, while the other hostages around her went crazy as they saw Parker’s blood splattered on the glass wall .
Adam threw the door open to let Spike and the police hear the scream of the hostages through the CB.
“Hear that? Talk to me, where are my detonators. Where are they or shall I shoot another one? Sooner or later...I might get to someone you do care about.” Adam yelled, completely losing his cool demeanour and all patience he had shown before.
Spike was screaming inside, but knew that he was bluffing. If he shot more hostages he wouldn’t get what he wanted from the police. But could he take the risk that Buffy could be shut.
The he made his decision and spoke evenly into the CB…
“Go fuck yourself.”
…and disconnected.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Outside Xander desperately fended off Giles who wanted the CB fends off Robinson, who wants the CB.
“Goddamn, didn't you hear him! He practically pulled the Goddamned trigger himself… he gave that man to them…”
“Christ, can't you read between the lines! He did everything he could to save him...if he gave himself up they'd both be dead!” Xander said, leaping to Spikes’ defence.
“Maybe. And maybe they'd at least be talking to us! Now tell your 'partner' to stay out of it, or so help me if he lives through this I'll put him behind bars myself!”
Xander was amused, and fuming at the same time.
“He's alone, tired, hunted, and hasn't seen diddly-squat from us and you think he gives a flying fuck about what you're going to do to him? Giles, wake up and smell the shit you're shoveling!
Giles straightened up and responded in a cold voice.
“Anytime you want to go home, Sergeant...consider yourself dismissed.”
They locked eyes as Xander spoke,
“No Sir. You couldn't drag me away.”
They were interrupted as Adam’s voice came over the CB.
“Attention police. Attention police.”
Xander started to speak, “This is…” But Giles snatched the CB away.
“This is Deputy Chief Giles. Who is this?”
INTERCUT:
In Buffy's office Adam responded.
“This is Adam Walsh. I assume you realize the futility of direct action against me. We have no wish for further loss of life.”
“What do you wish for, Mister Walsh?”
“I have comrades in arms around the world who are languishing in prison. The American State Department enjoys rattling its saber to its own ends... now it can rattle it for me.”
Listening to this with astonishment, dismay and outright derisive amusement, Spike paced back and forth by the desk.
“...The following people are to be released from their captors…” Adam continued, “…In Northern Ireland, the seven members of the New Provo Front. In Canada, the five imprisoned leaders of Liberte de Quebec, in Sri Lanka, the nine members of the Asian Dawn movement...”
In the office Karl looked at Adam, “Asian Dawn Movement?”
Off the mike Adam shrugged, “I read about them in Time magazine.”
Then he returned to the mike, “When these Revolutionary Brothers and Sisters are Free, the hostages in this building will be taken to the roof and they will accompany us in helicopters to the Los Angeles International Airport where you will be given further instructions. You have two hours to comply.”
“Two hours? Are you insane? I can't authorize...hello? Hello?” Giles cried down the radio.
“Do you think they'll even try to do it?” Karl asked him.
“Who cares?” Adam dismissed, then on another channel he spoke to Theo.
“Theo. Are we on schedule?”
In the vault room Theo and Kristoff had been rewarded with another lock deactivation.
“One more to go...then it's up to you.” Theo told him.
On the screen flashed… "WARNING: ELECTRO-MAGNETIC SEAL ARMED." *
“And you better be right, because this one's going to take a miracle.”
“It's Christmas, Theo, it's the time of miracles. So be of good cheer and call me when you hit the last lock.” Adam said before disconnecting.
“Karl...hunt the little shit down and get those detonators.”
*
“Franco is checking the explosives, Fritz is with him.
“I'll check the explosives. You just get those detonators.” Adam ordered.
On the thirty second floor Spike patrolled the floor he’d staked out, constantly looking into every dark corner, gun held ready, he moved toward the stairwell.
“Harris? Xander, you there?
“I'm here, cowboy.”
“Speaking of cows, did you ever hear so much bullshit in your life? Two hours? That doesn't even make any sense…”
“Don't tell me, partner. I'm just a desk jockey who was on the way home when you rang.”
“The way you drove that car, I figured you for the streets.”
“In my youth, partner. In my youth.”
In the TV studio Gail and Harvey were interviewing a man from the Senator Paul Simon's school of grooming.
“...author of... 'Hostage/Terrorist, Terrorist/Hostage, a Study in Duality.' Dr. Hasseldorf, what can we expect in the next few hours?” Gail asked.
“Well, Gail, by this time the hostages and their captors should be entering the early stages of the Helsinki Syndrome.” Hasseldorf told her.
“As in Helsinki, Sweden?” Harvey asked.
“Uh...Finland. Basically, it's when the hostages and the terrorists go through a sort of psychological transference and projection of dependency...”
In the Nakatomi building, the TV report was on the TV in Buffy’s office. Fritz was dragging Parker’s body out of the office and he threw it on the floor.
Hasseldorf continued his interview.
“…What can only be described as a strange sort of trust and bond develops...We've had situations where hostages have embraced their captors after their release and in one case even corresponded with them in prison...”
On the machine room floor Adam turned and looked up at the ceiling, and sighed. Setting his gun down on a buttress he started to climb up.
Outside Giles conferred with a young cop.
“The...the FBI? Here? Now?”
“Yes sir. Right over there.” The cop informed him.
Giles looked at Xander, adjusting his clothes and straightening his tie as Xander asked dryly,
“You want a breath mint?”
Giles simply glared at hi as they both walked towards a large, dark government car that had approached.
To FBI agents stepped out, one larger than the other. They stepped towards Giles and Xander. The larger one had short spiky brown hair and a brooding brow, while the other had glasses, and hair that was slightly longer than the others.
“I'm Special Agent Angel Pryce of the FBI. This is Agent Wesley Pryce...no relation.”
Stepping forward with a fake smile plastered on his face, Giles extended his hand.
“Rupert Giles, LAPD. I'm in charge here.”
“Not any more.” Angel told him, ignoring his extended hand.
On the mechanical floor, Adam checked the plastique. He was not pleased. He turns and suddenly dropped to his knees, a pair of bare feet in his eye line.
Spike stood in front of him, gun aimed directly at Adam’s forehead.
“Lost?” Spike asked him.
Adam turned his head, the transformation in his expression and bearing was mind- boggling. Hands shaking, eyes filled with fear, he swallowed, looking up at Spike and in a perfect American accent spoke,
“ohGodplease … don't kill me … don't kill me … you're one of them, I know it…”
Spike was thrown, unsure,
“Whoa, whoa, easy mate. I won't hurt you. Who are you? What are you looking for?”
Adam’s eyes darted towards the buttress ten feet away.
“A way up to the roof...I thought I could signal for help…”
Adam started in that direction but Spike stopped him.
“Forget it. They got a guy up there. You want to stay alive, keep moving. Hey? You hear me?”
Adam, realising this tack wouldn’t work, followed Spike.
“You...you're English?” Adam asked.
Spike spoke kindly to him, easing the man’s fears.
“London born and bred, moved here when I was twenty.”
The ‘poor frightened civilian’ that Adam was acting like, showed a hint of a smile. CUT TO:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Outside Giles was in conversation with Angel and Wesley.
“We've got thirty, maybe thirty-five hostages, probably on the 30th floor... seven, maybe eight terrorists.” Giles informed them.
“Sounds like a standard A-7 scenario.” Wesley told Angel, who nodded in agreement.
“Thank you. We'll handle it from here. When we need to commandeer your men, we'll try and let you know.” Angel told Giles.
They started to move away when Xander stopped them.
“Aren't you forgetting something?”
Angel and Wesley turned to him. All Giles wanted was for Xander to shut up.
“Such as...?” Angel asked.
Xander pointed to the building.
“Spike McClane! He's the man who gave us all the information we've got! He's the reason you're facing seven terrorists instead of twelve.”
“He's inside? Who is he?” Wesley asked.
“He may be a cop...we're checking on that” Xander said, pleased that someone seemed to be taking an interest in Spike’s welfare.
“One of yours?” Angel asked Giles who responded far too quickly,
“No, sir.”
After a moment Angel came to a decision.
“If he's not a terrorist, and he's not a hostage...he's just not part of the equation.”
They started to walk away when Xander spoke again, indignant,
“T...that's the same Goddamn thing the terrorists said!”
Wesley became interested, “Really?” Then he turned to Angel, “That's one good thing. Sound like we're dealing with pros.”
Angel nodded and they left.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On the machine floor, Spike and Adam walked together, Adam talking to Spike, spewing out a load of bullshit about who he was. Spike had absolutely no who the ‘terrified hostage’ next to him really was.
“There was a party … celebration … all of a sudden they were there … shooting … threatening us …”
Spike looked at the poor civilian, on the edge of going to pieces. He placed his hand on his shoulder.
“Relax, mate...you smoke?”
Adam nodded, still "frightened". Spike took out his spoils of war, the Marlboros. Two left, he sighed, taking one he offered the other one with an expression like a little boy forced to share a cookie. He took out his lighter and lit his and then Adam’s, who nodded, grateful then peered at Spike.
“You...you don't work for Nakatomi...and if you're not one of them...”
“I'm a cop from New York.”
Adam acted puzzled.
“New York...”
Spike explained,
“They invited me to the Xmas party. Who knew?”
Someone was clearly watching over Spike, because so far he hadn’t mentioned Buffy. If he had, Adam would know exactly who to go for to really hurt Spike.
Adam looked at Spike’s bare feet.
“Better than being caught with your pants down, right?” Spike smiled and extended his hand. “Spike McClane.”
Adam shook his hand, “William Clay. Call me Bill.”
Spike nodded in a friendly way, and his eyes glanced casually at the wall where a roster of names in alphabetical order hung. He scanned the C’s
S.: CLAY, WM.: CRAWFORD, L...
Spike looked back at Adam, or as far as he knew, Bill.
“Bill, you know how to use a handgun?”
Adam spoke, hesitant.
“One weekend I went to a combat ranch... You know, that game with the, the guns that shoot red paint? Must sound pretty silly to you...”
“Sounds better than nothing.”
Spike took out his Baretta, popping out the magazine, and then jamming in a fresh one and handed it to him.
“Time for the real thing.”
Spike walked on until he heard a familiar click behind him.
Adam was well, Adam again. The baretta was aimed at Spike’s face. He spoke calmly into his radio in German.
“Karl! Franco! I'm on 33. Come quickly.”
Then he spoke to Spike.
“Put down your gun and give me my detonators.”
Spike simply looked at him
“Adam. Your Adam.”
Adam nodded, indicating Spike’s gun again.
“Put it down now.”
“That was tricky, with the accent. I bet you do a great Ed Sullivan. Why do you need the detonators, Adam? I already used the explosives.”
“I'm going to count to three...”
Spike spoke, his voice cold,
“Yeah. Like you did with Takagi.”
Spike raised his machine gun and aimed at Adam, but before Spike could shoot Adam pulled the trigger aiming at Spike’s head…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spike didn’t even blink when, instead of a gunshot, there was a ‘Click’. Adam pulled the trigger again in astonishment. Click-click-click. Spike stepped in carefully, reclaiming his pistol.
“You think I'm a shmuch, Adam.”
Adam paled, then heard the ding of an approaching elevator.
“You were saying.”
Spike whirled around in time to see Karl, Franco and Fritz exiting the elevator firing. Spike fired back, killing Fritz. Karl and Franco took cover ad Spike ducked into a water cooler alcove glancing back at where Adam was but he was gone, a swinging office door the only evidence of his passing.
‘Shit, fuck’ Spike cursed himself before he dove into a bank of computers where he ducked and dodged as bullets pinged and ricochet all around him. He ducked and rolled, firing at Franco. Spike’s bullets raked his middle throwing Franco over a desk, his weapon flying. Franco’s body slid into a glass door which smashed around him, blood fountained out of severed arteries
Spike stood, hope rising within him at the prospect of an equal battle, but his face suddenly fell as bullets flew into the room from an unexpected direction.
Spike turned to see that Adam had re-entered the room and acquired Francos’s weapon. Spike fired at him while running to keep from being flanked. One of his shots shattered a glass panel, which rained down near Adam who escaped with only superficial scratches.
Adam looked at the glass around him and an idea formed in his head.
“The glass! Shoot the glass!” He cried in German and shot at the glass all around him, Karl followed suit
As glass flew everywhere Spike saw only one option, and took it. He blasted a burst of bullets to keep Adam and Karl’s heads down, and whirled, jumping onto the top of a long counter and ran across it, their bullets flowed him merely six inches behind his moving form. Big grey units groaned with electronic squeals and sparks as a million gigabytes drifted to RAM heaven. Spike reached the end of the counter and dove off, rolling to the floor. His foot landed right on a jagged shard of glass. He groaned in pain but kept on running, knowing his life depended on it, the thought of seeing Buffy again, giving his a new burst of speed, and he slammed into the stairwell door and out, gone, safe.
Karl was pissed as hell, his brothers murderer had escaped again. Behind him, Adam sifted through the rubble, then came over, smiling, holding the bag of detonators.
“Smile, Karl. We are back in business.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In Riley’s trailer, Hasseldorf was still on TV explaining the mentality behind terrorists actions.
“...all depends on what we mean by "Terror.' If Clauswitz could say 'War is the last resort of Deplomacy,' couldn't we just as well say that terrorism has an equal claim to...”
Riley’s assistant, Mary, came in grinning ear to ear. Riley looked up from his danish, a cute little chin napkin was protecting his shirt collar.
“You got something?”
Waving a paper she replied, “Just McClane's name, badge number, police record, vital statistics...” and here was the ringer “...And his family's address right here in L.A.”
Riley’s eyes lit up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eddie and Uli were guarding the hostages as Adam and Karl returned. are guarding the hostages. Adam tossed the bag of detonators to Uli, who grinned and left.
Buffy watched all this nervously, her face pale. She had seen them leave and knew something was wrong and prayed that someone would watch over Spike. Willow’s eyes followed Karl who didn’t share the mood of the others.
“That one look pissed, Buffy...”
“Thank God.” She sighed relieved. “He's still alive.” Buffy explained.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Upstairs, Spike pushed a bathroom door open, and all but crawled in, His dragging foot leaving a trail of blood on the linoleum.
In the Vault room Theo and Kristoff were delighted as they got the massage…
SIXTH LOCK DEACTIVATED.
Suddenly a buzzer sounded and the graphic flashed:
"ELECTROMAGNETIC SEAL ENGAGED. CANNOT BE DISARMED AT THIS LOCATION. TERMINATE SEQUENCE (Y/N)?"
“You better heat up that miracle you were talking about. We broke through on Number Six, and the Electromagentic came down like a sledgehammer...” He spoke into his CB.
“Well have a look at what our friends outside are doing and I'll be right up.”
In the bathroom, wincing in pain, Spike washed his foot in a sink basin. He washed a deep cut, and soaped it, but the pain did not relent
When a voice spoke, Spike jumped before realising it was the CB.
“Roy? You still with us?” Xander asked.
“Yeah. But all things being equal, I'd rather be in Philadelphia. By the way, chalk up two more terrorists.”
“They boys'll be glad. We got a pool going on you.”
Spike tried to wrap paper towels on his foot but it still hurt like hell, the pain shooting through him like a prolonged lightening bolt.
Through his teeth he asked, “Yeah? What's the odds?”
“You don't want to know.”
Suddenly Spike remembered an NYPD course in first aid, and removed his improvised bandage, and checked the cut more carefully. As he worked he continued talking to Xander.
“Put me down for twenty anyway...I'm good for it...so, what got you off the street, Harris? You liked lousy coffee, or what?”
Xander didn’t answer right away, the memory still painful. Speaking of pain, Spike swallowed, seeing a gleam inside his foot. He gingerly probed and pulled out a shard of glass almost three inches long from its angled gash, his mouth twisted in a silent scream all the way.
“I...realized I couldn't do what I had to anymore...at least not out there. I had an...accident.” Xander spoke quietly.
Spike threw the glass across the room, forehead bathed in sweat.
“They way you drive, I can see why.” Spike joked.
“I...I shot a kid.” Xander admitted.
‘Shit’ Spike thought, ‘bad time to make a joke, way to go mate.’
Xander’s voice came across the CB, soft and quiet,
“Eleven years ago. Oh, it was dark... he was big for his age...damn ray gun he had looked real enough...yeah, I had all the right excuses...but afterwards...I really couldn't draw my gun again.
“I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make a joke of it.” Spike told him sombrely.
“Hey, you couldn't know.” Xander told him
“I still feel like shit.”
“Then this won't matter…” Xander paused, before reluctantly adding “LAPD's not calling the shots anymore.”
‘Great, now it was more than likely down to the FBI. Could it get any worse? If that bloody police officer Rupert wouldn’t listen to him, what chance did he have at getting through to the FBI. They were probably some stuck up, think they know it all nancy boy agents who should be working behind a desk, not at the front line of a major terrorist hostage take over.’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Inside Adam and Theo leant over a monitor watching a DWP truck near the parking garage.
Theo tapped the screen. “There's the city engineers...they're going into the street circuits...But who are these guys in the suits?”
“That's the FBI...ordering them to cut the building's power. They're as regular as clockwork...or a time lock...the circuits that cannot be cut... are cut automatically in reponse to a terrorist incident... You ask for miracles, Theo...I give you the FBI...” Adam smiled gleefully.
“When you're hot, you're hot.” Theo smirked.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Outside, Giles, Angel and Wesley were gathered by a manhole with a city engineer. Another engineer finished welding a last connection. CUT TO: *
“We're spliced in down the line.” The engineer told them.
“Do it...now.” Wesley ordered.
The engineer threw giant leavers, and inside the manhole sparks sizzled and massive contacts clunked. One by one, all the lights on every floor went out.
In the bathroom, Spike ripped off his shirt and tied it around his bloody foot. With his free hand he talked into his CB.
“Harris? What's going on?”
Outside Xander watched the others. “Ask the FBI. They've got the terrorist playbook and they're running it, step by step.”
Spike knew this meant that trouble wasn’t far around the corner.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the vault room Theo, Kristoff and Adam huddled over a computer monitor screen as if it were a warm fireplace.
A portable generator hummed as the lights went out, but the computer screen stayed on. Theo looked over at the safe, which still read…
"FIBER OPTIC TIME LOCK CANNOT BE DISARMED AT THIS LOCATION. TERMINATE SEQUENCE (Y/N)?"
“Damn! It didn't go!” Kristoff cursed.
“They're on the building circuit...it's too local.” Theo deduced.
“Encourage them to be bolder.” Adam urged.
“The only thing left for them is the City Grid...They may not do it.” Theo told him, worried.
Outside, Angel and Wesley looked very smug with themselves, but all of a sudden, all the floors lit up again one by one.
“Shit!” Wesley cursed. Turning to the engineer he issued orders. “Cut it again. Go wider.”
“I can't go wider here...” He explained, and turned to Giles looking for help. “...I'd have to call downtown have them take down one of the city grids...you're talking ten square blocks…”
“…ten blocks?!” Giles exclaimed then spoke to Angel. “Are you crazy? It's Christmas Eve, thousands of people … the Mayor'll scream bloody murder…”
But Angel ignored him and turned his attention to the engineer. “We must shut down the building. Go wider…!”
“I need authorization.”
“Authorization? How about the United States Fucking Government? Lose the grid or lose your job!” Angel snarled.
The engineer looked at Giles, and then his partner in the manhole who shrugged. He had no choice. He picked up his phone.
“Central. This is Walt, out at Nakatomi. I want you to shut down grid 212.” He listened for a few seconds then spoke again. “No shit, it's my ass. Just shut it down now.”
After a few moments all of the lights in the Nakatomi building ceased to shine. In the vault room emergency lighting bathed the room in a dull glow. An alarm beeped three times and the LED display on the safe changed to…
"FIBER OPTIC TIME LOCK DEACTIVATED AT SOURCE. SEVENTH LOCK DISENGAGED."
And the vault door opened with a hum.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“That should shake'em up. With all the power shut down, those bastards are probably scared shitless.” Angel smirked.
However in the vault room, the ‘bastards’ weren’t exactly scared shitless.
Theo and Kristoff laughed, giving each other high fives. Even Adam lost his usual cool, and gave Theo a slap on the back and Theo and Kristoff cheered at their success.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Riley’s truck drove along a residential street. He checked a map location and pointed directions to the driver.
Outside the Nakatomi building Xander looked up at the dark structure, lit only by emergency lighting. He sidled over to the FBI men and spoke dryly.
“What do we do now, arrest them for not paying their electric bill?”
Wesley replied sharply. “We let them sweat awhile. Then, when they're expecting helicopters...We give them helicopters...”
Angel nodded in agreement. “Right up the ass.” Then he spoke into another communicator. This is Pryce...no the other one. I want that air support ready to lift off in five minutes...Damn right fully armed. We're on our way.” Then into the CB he spoke again. “Attention in the building.”
While Theo and Kristoff tackled the problem of unloading the racks and racks of bonds and transferring them to black cases, Adam responded to Angel.
“This is Adam...”
“This is Agent Pryce of the FBI. The State Department has arranged for the release of your comrades. The helicopters you requested are on the way.”
“I hear you, FBI. We'll be ready.”
He disconnected at Theo and smiled at Theo.
“When they touch down and we blow the roof, they'll spend a month sifting through the bodies and rubble. By the time they figure out what went wrong...” He smiled at the irony, “...we'll be earning twenty percent like nice fat Capitalists.”
Down in the car park Angel disconnected and smiled. BIG JOHNSON
“By the time he figures out what hit him he'll be in a body bag.”
Angel and Wesley left Xander and Giles looking very unhappy. Xander’s CB hissed as Spike came through.
“Harris, listen...”
Xander moved off to be alone.
“I'm here, Spike.”
Spike tried to walk on his foot, wincing in pain, completely at the end of his resources. He took a long pause, thinking of how exactly to word it. He had a feeling something really bad was waiting just around the corner theta he didn’t think he was gonna make it out of.
“Look...I'm getting a bad feeling up here...I'd like you to do something for me. Look up my wife...don't ask how, you'll know by then...and tell her...tell her...I've been a jerk. When things panned out for her, I should've been behind her all the way...We had something great going until I screwed it up...She was the best thing that ever happened to a bum like me. She's heard me say I love you a thousand times, but she never got to hear this...honey...I'm sorry.”
Spike took in a shaky breath, not because of the pain, but because of the emotions welling up like a tornado inside of him.
“You get all that?”
Xander was touched. “I got it. But you can tell her yourself. Just watch your ass and you'll make it.”
“I hope so. But that's up to the guy upstairs.” Spike paused, as a thought struck him. “Upstairs...” He thought to himself for a moment. “...Adam, you bastard...what were you doing?”
“Roy?”
“Stand by, Harris. I gotta check something out.”
Spike moved towards the door, and limped hurriedly out of the room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At Buffy’s home, Riley stood with one foot in the doorway but since Glory still had the chain on, it wasn’t quite enough.
“One minute, that's all we ask. You could be denying them their last chance to talk to their parents.” Riley pleaded with her.
“I'm sorry...Mrs. Buffy says I couldn't let strangers into…”
“Strangers? I'm with KFLW TV, that's affiliated with the FCC, and I'm sure you know that's the United States government...just like the INS?”
And Glory wavered.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spike hobbled onto the mechanical floor, retracing his steps from earlier, mentally replaying his meeting with Adam.
“I was here...he was...”
His eyes flicked over the area...then he looked up. Something caught his eye and he stepped closer. He set down his CB and climbed up on a thick pipe and flicked his lighter on, holding it high. The light from the flame illuminated the area and what Spike saw made his blood run cold, explosives everywhere. He quickly extinguished the lighter and followed the detonator lines with his eyes.
“Oh my God...” He gasped as he realised Adam’s plan.
He dropped to the floor, wincing in pain, and picked up his CB.
“Harris! Harris, listen to me! You're being double crossed! The whole roof of this building is…” But he stopped abruptly and stiffened as a gun barrel was pressed against his head.
Spike’s eyes flitted to the owner of the gun and saw Karl at the other end, who took Spike’s Baretta, tossing it away. Then he took his CB and smashed it under his foot.
Outside, Xander was in one of the radio monitoring officers.
“Roy? Hello? Hello?” He turned to the officer. “I thought you had him.”
“I did. He said something about a, a double cross...”
“Tell me about it.” Xander replied, looking off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the machine room Karl hovered over Spike who hadn’t moved a muscle.
Karl spoke quietly. “We're both professionals. But this is personal. You...are done.”
Without warning, Spike drove his elbow into Karl’s face and he dropped his weapon to the floor and Spike followed his fist blow with a second. Karl recovered with a spinning kick which caught Spike in his midsection, slamming him back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On the hostage floor, Eddie turned from a window, where two chopper lights loomed closer.
“They're coming.” He informed the others.
Adam nodded and stood, but something on the television caught his attention.
“I know you're proud of your daddy...”
Buffy turned her head and saw the TV, and shock overcame her as she saw the news reporter Riley Finn was at her house, interviewing Anne and William. His voice was warm and comforting, but that did not surpass the anger, fear and shock she was feeling.
“...because he's a very brave policeman. And your mom has shown just as much courage. But is there something you would like to say to them if they're watching?”
William said nothing, but Anne looked at the camera, and her innocent, sweet voice came through.
“Come home.”
Buffy struggled to stay composed and nonchalant but hearing her seeing her children on the television and hearing her daughters plea brought down the barrier she had tried desperately to hold up, and she slowly turned her head to look at Adam.
Adam turned around and his gaze fell on the picture of the children on her desk. He turned back to look at her and smiled.
“Mrs. McClane. How nice to make your acquaintance.”
He raised his weapon... fear shot though Buffy and thoughts rushed through her mind.
‘Oh Spike, I’m sorry for everything I said or did that made you think I didn’t love you.’
‘Anne William, I will always love you…’
‘My god, this is it,’
‘Thank you Spike for everything you’ve done to try and save me…to save us all.’
‘Please God, if he’s still alive watch over him and keep him safe.’
But instead of shooting Buffy, Adam shot into the ceiling, making the hostages jump and everyone started screaming.
“On your feet, everyone! Upstairs, now!”
He whispered to Uli, “You'll lock them up there and come right down...”
Uli nodded and he and Eddie herded everyone towards the stairs. Adam moved forward and grabbed Buffy, pulling her along with him and out of the room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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