Protocol Omega? Guardians? Compromised Network?
It sounded like Marco had finally watched one too many spy movies after celebrating Leon's move.
He took a deep breath, the roar of the Parisian crowd a grounding, familiar sound. Marco was Marco – brilliant, loyal, and prone to levels of dramatic exaggeration that could make an opera singer blush.
They know about the system.
That part sent a tiny shiver down his spine, but the rest? Probably just Marco getting overly excited about some transfer gossip or misinterpreting a coded message from another agent. He couldn't deal with that now. He had a football match to manage. Against PSG. While leading 1-0.
He shoved his phone back into his pocket, silencing Marco's impending follow-up call, and turned his attention back to the beautiful, chaotic war unfolding on the pitch.
