Boom: Da

"I need silence, Sal," Elias whispered. He snipped a copper wire. The timer skipped, stuttered, and then sped up.

The air in the Southside basement smelled of copper and old capacitors. Elias didn't look up from the circuit board; he didn't have the luxury of shaky hands. Across the scarred workbench, Big Sal chewed on the remains of a toothpick, his eyes fixed on the red digital countdown. Da Boom

"Five minutes, El," Sal grunted. "The crew is already at the perimeter. If this thing doesn't sing, we’re all ghosts." "I need silence, Sal," Elias whispered