Dak flashed a look across the room and found his friend strapped to his desk chair with what looked like forty feet of duct tape.
Will stared back at his friend with eyes full of exhaustion and apathy. He bore the look of a man who'd given up all hope and resigned to the fact he was going to die in this room.
"You stubborn moron," Will spat. "I told you to leave me alone."
"Actually, you told me to get out of here."
Will shook his head and lowered it to his chest in disbelief. "Just go, Dak. There's nothing you can do. Call the manager of the complex and tell them to evacuate. Call the cops, too. They'll need to set up a safe perimeter around the building. There's still time to save people."
"Everyone except you," Dak countered. He closed the door silently and then padded across the room, setting his bag down next to the desk. "What are we working with here?" He knelt down and craned his neck to the side to investigate the explosive device.
Clusters of wires stuck out from underneath the seat, all attached to an aluminum box strapped to the support post. A red light next to a switch glowed dimly. Beside that, an LED screen displayed a countdown. Dak's estimate had been too generous. The screen displayed less than thirty minutes until detonation.
"It's no use, Dak. I'm telling you. He used a pressure sensitive detonator. If you get me out of the chair, boom. We're gone."
"Well," Dak said as he inspected the device's rigging. "There is some good news."
"What's that?" Will arched an eyebrow suspiciously.
"He also installed a failsafe so that if I try to bypass the system and replace the signal, that will also set off the bomb."
Will eyed him as if he was insane. "I thought you said there was good news."
"Yeah, but I didn't say for who." Dak stood up and shifted over to the desk where a collection of phones festooned the surface. "These burners?"
"Of course. You know better than to ask that."
"Had to be sure."
Dak picked up a flip phone and held it precariously in front of his friend, a judgmental look twisting his face. "A flip phone? I thought these were going out of style."
His statement only received a shake of the head from Will.
Dak dialed the number he recalled from his time living in the building. He set the phone on speaker just as the manager answered in Portuguese. Dak dropped the phone in Will's lap. Will spoke fluent Portuguese. While Dak had picked up a little while he lived here, it wasn't enough to tell the supervisor what was going on.
Then Dak rushed over to the kitchen and grabbed a knife from a bamboo holder. He returned as Will explained to the manager that there was a bomb in the building and everyone needed to be evacuated. He finished by telling the man to call the police.
"Oh, I'm sorry about that," a familiar voice said over the phone. "Calling the cops would be cheating, now wouldn't it?"
"Bo?" Dak asked, his face burning with red heat.
"You didn't think I'd let you just call the apartment manager and let him get you out of this mess with the local bomb squad, if they even have one."
"You're here?" Will asked.
Dak knew Bo wouldn't be so stupid.
"No, I'm nowhere near Nazare now, my friend. But I did take the liberty of rerouting calls to the manager to my phone. You're so predictable, Dak. You really are. Of course, now you'll call the cops. But is that really what you want? Are you going to risk getting caught? You call the police, they're going to want to know how you knew about this, why you were here. Seems awfully convenient, doesn't it? I mean, you'll have to be removed from the premises while their inept team works to disarm the device. They will fail and your friend will die. So, you really only have one play here, Dak. Disarm the bomb yourself or go up in flames with your pal."
"Why don't you just face me," Dak sneered. "Why go through all this? Huh? You like to play mind games?”
"With you, Dak? Absolutely."
The call ended and Dak found himself staring down at the bomb, his mind wandering in a thousand directions.
Will looked up at his friend. He peered into Dak's green eyes with sad sincerity. "It's okay, man. Just go."
Dak stood there in contemplative silence. A seagull squawked as it flew over the balcony. In the silence, the waves of the ocean crashed against the shore.
"No," Dak said, an idea sparking in his mind. He took the knife and sliced through the layers of duct tape.
Will let his hands fall and shook them to get the circulation back into his fingers. He shook his head. "It doesn't matter, Dak. You can't get me out of the chair. I already explained it."
"You're not dead yet," Dak cut him off and checked the timer on the bomb. "I do have a question, though."
Will looked at him curiously. "What's that?"
"Can you swim?"
Three
Nazaré
"What is that supposed to mean?" Will asked. "Yes, I can swim. How is that relevant right now, Dak? I have a bomb under my butt and you're wanting to know if—"
"Good. Shut up." Dak looked over at the far wall where a paddle board hung over the sofa. "Aren't the waves here too big for that thing?"
"Dak? What are you doing?"
"Okay, this is going to sound crazy, but you and I are going to the beach."
Will searched his friend's eyes for any sign of the harebrained plan simmering in Dak's skull. "What?"
Dak didn't answer. He grabbed the back of the chair and rolled it toward the door.
"Dak, seriously. What is
