The Relic Runner Origin Story Box Set by Ernest Dempsey (best desktop ebook reader .txt) 📗

balcony door, he pulled it open and stepped out. Will peered down to the coastline where the chaotic scene still unfurled on the sand. Police had taped off the area to keep out curious gawkers. A bomb squad consisting of four specialists in protective gear inspected different spots along the beach where fragments of the chair and the explosive device sprayed out from the blast site.

A few hundred feet away, more than a dozen cops interviewed witnesses—some individually, some in groups. Will chuckled at the thought of people telling the police what they'd seen: one guy pulling another guy into the water atop an office chair riding a paddle board. Just before the chair blew up.

"What's so funny?" Dak asked. He sidled up next to his friend and drew in a deep inhale of the sea air. The events of the day notwithstanding, he could never get enough of that smell. It cleared his mind and his senses, like a soothing aromatherapy. He'd joked in the past about wishing he could bottle that, but it was more than merely a scent. It was a feeling that permeated the soul.

"Just thinking about those people down there telling their tall tale about two idiots with an office chair and a paddle board, then a huge explosion."

"It wasn't that huge," Dak countered. He took a long pull from the bottle. He normally wasn't a beer guy, but his frayed nerves needed calming and the inside of his mouth felt like the Mojave Desert.

"Big enough to kill both of us. Honestly, we're lucky no one else was hurt. If the beach was busier…." His voice trailed off.

"Yeah, we're fortunate there weren't more people around." Dak's voice took on a pensive tone.

Seagulls squawked nearby, cutting though the silent breeze with their annoying calls. Tree branches along the sidewalk and next to the building across the street danced in the wind. The moment gave the two men a respite, a much needed breather after such an emotionally, mentally, and physically draining encounter.

Neither of them said anything for two full minutes, both fully absorbed by their individual thoughts.

Will broke the silence after his nerves started to settle. It was one of his concerns swimming amid all the others, but now it bobbed to the surface.

"What's his play here, Dak?" he asked. "Is he testing you or something?"

"Testing me?" Dak considered it. That didn't make sense, though, and he shrugged it off. "I doubt it. That's not his style. He's not trying to make me jump through hoops to prove I'm a worthy adversary or anything like that. He's bitter." Dak's expression hardened. His jaw set firm and the next sip he took from the bottle was a shallow one. "Bo has an ego the size of Texas. He wants it all, including the loot the others took from that cave in Iraq. And he likes to manipulate people, make them jump through hoops for him. Gives him some kind of feeling of power or authority. He loved being a leader, played it up whenever he could."

"I know some guys like that, but they're criminals, dudes that run underworld organizations."

"Bo would be a perfect fit for that. He also has a sadistic side. It comes from a place of misplaced righteous indignation. If I had to guess, I'd say when he was younger he was largely ignored by his parents, disregarded by peers, perpetually overlooked."

Will cast a sidelong glance at his friend. "You almost sound sad for him, the guy that strapped a bomb to me yesterday and left me here to die—along with a bunch of other innocent people."

Dak's vacant gaze never wavered. His head only twitched slightly to the side. "No, he knew I could do it. And if I didn't get here in time and figure out a way to diffuse the bomb, all the better. He'd get rid of the lone threat to his safety and the guy who helped me—you were a loose end too."

"Thanks for reminding me. You're a dangerous guy to be friends with."

"I suppose so." He was about to add a smart-aleck comment to the back end of his admission when Will's statement blasted through the cloud of thoughts in his head.

"Nicole," Dak blurted.

"What?"

Dak spun on his heels and went for the phone on the computer desk. He dialed the number from memory. After the fourth ring, a voice answered on the other end. "Well, well, well," Bo said. "I see you managed to figure out a way to not die. Again. You're getting pretty good at this, Dak?"

Dak's jaw clenched to the point he nearly cracked his teeth. A vein pulsed in his neck, rising under the skin. His face flushed red with fury.

"If you touch her—"

"I'll do whatever I please, Dak. She's not your girl anymore. Remember? And besides, it's not like you can stop me. I'd love to see you try. I really would."

"You won't fight me straight up," Dak said.

"Quite the contrary," Bo argued. "I would love the chance to beat you to a pulp, but you're in Portugal and I'm… well, you know where I am."

"Stay there, Bo," Dak ordered. "I'm on my way."

Will stood nearby in the open balcony doorway on full alert, trying to take in as much of the conversation as possible. He listened with determined interest, eyes unwavering from his friend.

"Oh, Dak. I don't think so. I mean, I really would love the chance to fight you man-to-man, but I doubt you'll make it out of the country, or even out of Nazare for that matter."

A sickening feeling crept into Dak's chest and fell into his gut. "Oh, yeah? Why's that?"

"Because, unless I miss my guess, I'd say the colonel has a team en route to your location right now. They may already be there."

Dak's heart raced and his breath quickened. He shifted toward the balcony, sliding past Will who watched closely, mouthing "what" as Dak passed.

Dak stopped at the railing and looked down both ends of the street. "I'm not