The na on the screen was a ghost, a snake that had slithered into the heart of his happy, well-ordered world. Daniel.
Ethan’s blood ran cold, a glacial wave of ice that extinguished the triumphant warmth of his pre-season. The grainy photograph of him and Leo, a private mont stolen and sent as a threat. The casual, chilling sign-off: You know him as Daniel.
His sister’s boyfriend. The nice, charming history teacher who had just been laughing in his living room. He was a spy.
For a long, silent mont, Ethan just stared at the ssage, his mind a white-hot blank. The world of secret wagers, anonymous benefactors, and system administrators had been a thrilling, high-stakes ga. This was different. This wasn’t a ga. They had crossed a line. They had co into his ho. They had targeted his family.
A white-hot, protective fury, purer and more intense than any he had ever felt, surged through him. He wasn’t the Gaffer of Apex United anymore. He was a big brother. And soone had just threatened his sister.
He didn’t think. He just acted. He scrolled through his contacts, his thumb jabbing at the screen with a frantic, angry energy. He found the na and hit call.
"What’s up?" Leo’s cheerful, sleepy voice ca through the phone. "Did you sign another legend? Did Guru send you a fruit basket?"
"Code Red," Ethan said, his voice a low, tight, and dangerous whisper he barely recognized as his own. "Repeat. We have a Code Red."
The kebab shop was their unofficial war room. Under the buzzing fluorescent lights, surrounded by the comforting, greasy aroma of grilled at, they huddled in their usual booth, the table a battlefield of half-eaten food and wild, terrified speculation.
"A spy?!" Leo hissed, his eyes wide, a piece of lettuce falling from his kebab in his excitent. "A real, actual, in-your-house spy?! I knew it! I told you this was bigger than just a ga! This is a full-blown espionage thriller, and we are the reluctant, handso protagonists!"
"This isn’t a thriller, Leo! This is my sister!" Ethan shot back, his voice a low, angry growl. He stabbed a pickled chili with a ferocity that made the plastic fork bend. "That guy... Daniel... he was in my house. He was charming my parents. He was making my sister laugh, a real, genuine laugh that I haven’t heard in years. And the whole ti, he was a mole? A plant?"
"It’s a classic honeytrap operation!" Leo declared with the confidence of a man who had watched way too many spy movies. "It’s brilliant! Diabolical, but brilliant! They couldn’t beat you on the pitch, so they’re trying to beat you off it. He’s a deep-cover agent, sent to infiltrate your family and gain access to your tactical genius!"
"He’s a history teacher, Leo," Ethan said, rubbing his temples, a headache starting to form behind his eyes.
"That’s the perfect cover!" Leo insisted. "Who would ever suspect a history teacher? It’s genius!"
"Who is ’they’?" Ethan asked, the question that had been tornting him. "Who is he working for? Guru? Aetheria? That weird ’System Administrator’?"
"Has to be Guru," Leo reasoned. "He’s the only one with a real, personal vendetta against you. And he has the money to hire soone. This ’Daniel’ is probably on the Quantum FC payroll."
The thought of his sister’s newfound happiness being a paid performance, a line item on GridironGuru’s budget, made Ethan feel physically sick. "I’m going to kill him," he said, his voice a dead, emotionless whisper. "I’m going to go to their house, and I’m going to—"
"Whoa, whoa, hold on there, champ," Leo said, his playful tone gone, replaced by a rare, serious concern. "Let’s not go full action hero just yet. We’re football managers, rember? We don’t solve problems with our fists. We solve them with tactics."
"What tactic is there for this, Leo?!" Ethan demanded, his frustration boiling over. "My sister is dating a corporate spy! Do I put my team in a low block and hope he gets bored?"
"Exactly!" Leo said, a brilliant, analytical light returning to his eyes. "That’s exactly what we do! We can’t go in with an all-out press; we’ll get picked off. He’ll deny everything, Sarah will think you’re a jealous, crazy brother, and you’ll be the villain. We have to be smart. We sit in a low block. We observe. We gather intel. We need a proper scouting report on this ’Daniel’ character."
"And how are we supposed to do that?" Ethan asked, a sliver of his managerial brain re-engaging. "Am I supposed to follow him to his history class? ’Sorry, Mr. Daniel, I just wanted to ask you about the Peloponnesian War and also, are you a corporate spy sent to destroy my family?’"
"No," Leo said, a slow, brilliant, and utterly insane grin spreading across his face. "We don’t go to his ho ground. We make him co to ours. Or, at least, to a neutral venue." He paused for dramatic effect. "What’s the one thing that a good, supportive boyfriend of a new, non-profit-working, charity-case-saving lawyer would be obligated to attend?"
Ethan stared at him, the pieces of the insane puzzle clicking into place.
"Sarah’s first big fundraising event," Ethan breathed. "It’s a charity auction at the local community hall. Next weekend."
"Bingo," Leo said, his grin turning predatory. "He’ll be there. He’ll have to be. It’s the perfect place to observe him in his natural habitat. To see how he operates. To look for weaknesses. It’s a scouting mission, Ethan. The most important one of our lives."
The idea was ridiculous. It was a plot from a bad high school movie. Two teenage football managers, one of them in a bright blue tracksuit, going undercover at a charity auction to spy on a history teacher who might be a secret agent for a virtual football tycoon.
It was perfect.
The anger in Ethan’s chest didn’t disappear, but it was forged into sothing new. Sothing cold, hard, and focused. His goal had changed. Winning the Championship, winning the Aetheria Ascension Tournant, it was all secondary. This was his new final.
"Okay," Ethan said, his voice a low, determined whisper. "Let’s go write a scouting report."
He looked at his best friend, his co-manager, his partner in this beautiful, glorious, and utterly unhinged new world. The fear was still there. The hurt was still there. But for the first ti since he had seen that photograph, he didn’t feel alone.
This wasn’t just about a ga anymore. This was a rescue mission. And he had the best assistant manager in the world by his side.
Reviews
All reviews (0)