Round One:
One hing about McClane is, as usual, drinking too much and wondering why his wife left him. I mean, he did only save her about a dozen times from terrorists. You'd think that would mean something to a woman, but noooo, she's all about the little things like foot massages and saying "I love you" every day. Forget getting literally thrown off of an airplane while saving not only your life but half of New York City as well. That stuff just doesn't cut it on Valentine's Day.

Anyway, because McClane is pretty much a bum at this point, 47 doesn't need to don any of his clever disguises. McClane just assumes that the bald guy in the suit is part of his drunken hallucinations. That is, until the drunken hallucination pulls out some fiberwire and starts strangling him with it. Then McClane has realized that he's involved in something more. Round One goes to Agent 47.

Round Two:
47 waits until McClane's body goes limp, and then lets go of the fiberwire. He pockets his deadly weapon, and starts heading for the exit point. Unfortunately for him, McClane was just playing possum. He gets up, grabs a nearby pool cue, and breaks it over 47's bald dome. 47 turns around in surprise. He pulls out his ballers and dives backwards, firing at the surprisingly alive John McClane. McClane takes the bullets right in the chest, but doesn't go down. In fact, the more beat up he gets, the more badass he seems to become. 47 makes a hasty retreat, finds a Mac truck in the parking lot, and runs McClane over with it. Again, McClane gets up, says something witty, and keeps coming. Unlike his targbet, 47 can't take a licking and keep on ticking, so he has to run away and think up a new plan. Round Two goes to John McClane.

Round Three:
Defeating John McClane will require all of 47's cunning and skill. He resorts to his most clever disguise yet: John McClane. Donning a wife beater and smearing his face with dried blood, he walks back to his target.

"Who the hell are you?" asks a confused McClane.

"Me? I'm John McClane," replies 47.

At first, McClane isn't about to believe such a tale. Then he takes a look at the guy. Bald head, wife beater, callous disregard for human life...if he's not John McClane, he's a pretty good facsimile. What's more, McClane realizes that if someone else gets to be him, then his own personal nightmare is over. He can go on to live his own life, sober up, get a job, and win back his wife. Seeing this as an opportunity to ditch his own identity, McClane turns and decides to leave the fight.

That's when 47 shoots him in the back of the head twelve times.

"Yippee kai yai yay, motherfucker," says 47 in his dry European accent. He parks the truck on top of McClane, and lights the whole thing on fire. 47 isn't about to believe that kills McClane, but he's hoping his employers will buy the story long enough to pay him the rest of his money. Plus, it will make a really funny Die Hard sequel when John McClane goes out for revenge on the man who shot him, John McClane. Round Three and the fight go to Agent 47.