Hans thinks for a moment, then dials numbers on his walkie-talkie.

“Find the bag, Fritz!” says Hans.

“They’ve got a freakin’ arsenal up here,” says McClane on the walkie-talkie.  Hans puts down his radio. He looks at Karl.

“Go help Ulie,” says Hans to Karl. “We must have the detonators!”

Back at the vault, Theo turns back to his drilling.

On 32, McClane continues to give his status report. “They’ve got missiles, automatic weapons, and enough plastic explosives to orbit Arnold Schwarzenegger. They’re down to nine now, counting the sky diver you met. These guys are mostly European, judging by their clothing labels and — ”  McClane pauses, hearing a noise. ” — cigarettes. They’re well financed, and very slick.”

“Well, how do you know that?” asks Al.

“I seen enough phony IDs in my time to recognize that the ones they got must have cost a fortune,” replies McClane.  He hunkers down behind a computer terminal. “Add all that up, and I don’t know what the f— it means, but you’ve got some bad-ass perpetrators here to stay.”  McClane pulls out another cigarette.

“I hear ya, pardner,” replies Al, as a police cruiser pulls up. “L.A.’s finest are on it – – so, light ’em if you got ’em.”

“Way ahead of you, pardner,” says John, lighting a cigarette.

“So, what do I call you?” asks Al. McClane takes a long drag on his cigarette.

“Call me — ” begins John.

IN THIS MINUTE:

Hans Gruber: Alan Rickman

Theo: Clarence Gilyard, Jr.

Al: Reginald VelJohnson