You can feel that the chase is drawing to an end. And so does Frozen Yoghurt.
Swift, but without hurrying you approach the crowd, as suddenly another commotion runs through the hall like a wave, turning chaos into brodem. Lout screams are being echoed by the halls of the pool area, people are fleeing, some stay to stare in a safe distance, but all in all the hall is emptying and before long you can trace a direct line of sight to Frozen Yoghurt. And his captive.
FY, dripping wet and still stark naked, stands behind a young girl, 14 maybe, holding her in a safe grip. He is crouching, so that his arms can be slung tightly around the girls neck, ready to break it any moment. She's shivering violently, though the shaking is countered by the firm grip of her captor.
"Let's talk! Nothing has happened yet. But I am ready to make things happen, if you don't know how to behave, Nepali police. Freeze right now!"
To underline his words, one hand of his gropes one of her breasts and squeezes it in a way that looks very painful.