Eighteen seconds before they all die a fiery death, and counting. Time is running out.
He brushes sweaty bangs out of his eyes, leaving a streak of dirt on his forehead.
Focus!
He doesn't dare look at the people whose lives depend on him.
Thirteen seconds.
So many wires, so little time. It isn't the red or the green; they're all a tangle of blue. His mind races, calculating probabilities.
Nine seconds.
He must make a decision. His fingers grab a wire.
Four seconds.
The wire cutter closes.
Two seconds.
SNAP!
The clock freezes at one second.
They are safe.