The cook and his helpers were all but crawling through the serving hatch trying to watch the entertainment out front, three white-clad asses the only thing that greeted Riley when he slipped into the room. The noise from outside vibrated through the whole diner, swallowing the sound of Riley’s boots clacking on the dirty tile floor. The kitchen was narrow and crammed, though at least comparatively clean. The smell of coffee and grease pervaded the air. Something was starting to burn on one of the stovetops, probably Riley’s breakfast. He didn’t stop to check, hurried toward the back exit half hidden in the shadow of a huge freezer. There was a sign on it that said not to open except in case of emergency. Riley half expected an alarm to shrill when he pulled on the handle anyway, but the connection had been disabled. He figured it had gotten tedious to follow protocol every time someone took out the trash.

Gotta love human nature, McClane mused.

“Save it for when we’re—” Riley stopped, one foot in the backyard, the other still in the building. “Holy shit,” he whispered.

The third helicopter was almost on top of him. It hovered over the cracked asphalt like a pissed metal insect, stirring up dust and debris from the ground and the dumpsters. The dirt whipped against Riley’s front and face, but McClane was doing something to their eyes and nose to keep them perfectly clear and unaffected. Riley had no trouble making out every menacing detail of the helicopter or the black-clad, masked soldiers in the process of rappelling down, unfazed by the thirty-foot drop beneath.

“United States Army,” a tinny voice blared from above. “Hold it right there!”

Yeah. Right.

Riley spun on his heels, ducked back into the kitchen and slammed the door shut behind him. He leaned against it for a second, his pulse thrumming crazily, adrenaline pumping through his system with every frantic beat of his heart. They were so screwed.

Freezer, McClane shouted in his head, propelling them into action as he spoke. The massive metal box was full to the brim with frozen goodies and heavy as fuck. Riley cussed up a storm, shoved, strained and finally planted his back against the freezer and his feet against the wall and pushed with all his might. He could feel the soothing coolness of metal flowing over his skin beneath his clothes as McClane jumped in to help, reinforcing Riley’s frame and adding what additional strength he could.

The reluctant screech of metal against tile brought the cook and his helpers running and they stood and stared openmouthed as Riley shoved and swore and muscled the oversized monster where he wanted it. Even if the thing fell, it’d be wedged between the door and the long kitchen counter.

It’d be a bitch to get past it from the outside.