God Of football Chapter 1011: Chattanooga

[Chattanooga]

Arrival was close to two in the morning, a time so late that even the city’s nightlife had retreated, leaving only shadows behind.

As they disembarked from the chartered flight, a convoy of twelve black vans, their windows blacked out to obscure any contents, awaited them in a precise line.

The federation had orchestrated this late arrival, a decision met with silent agreement, as no one desired the alternative of a long flight followed by immediate activity.

The official team bus, destined for the tournament, was still navigating the maze of permit acquisitions and likely wouldn’t be ready until a day or two before their inaugural match. For the present, these vans served their purpose, especially for a night such as this.

Izan, drawing breaths through his mouth, moved towards a van. After entrusting his luggage to Pablo, the kit assistant, he boarded the third vehicle. He made his way to the rear, his usual spot, a preference born from the desire for unobstructed views out the window and the absence of anyone behind him.

Barely a minute had passed in his chosen seat before Fermín entered.

Fermín didn’t so much sit as collapse into the seat, his movement so heavy that Izan briefly wondered if he was courting injury before the tournament even began.

In the subsequent moment, the prominent Barcelona player rested his head against the headrest, his already weary eyes shutting.

Lamine followed, stepping over a duffel bag in the aisle and settling into the seat directly before Izan. He then turned to look behind him.

“You want one,” Lamine inquired, pushing a packet of gummy bears through the gap between the seats.

Izan let out a sigh. Despite a desire to protest, the allure of the gummies silenced him.

Still, he cautioned, “Just don’t let De La Fuente catch you!”

Lamine acknowledged this with a nod before turning his attention to Fermín Lopez, who remained lost in sleep.

A grin soon spread across the former’s face as he began to retrieve his phone.

Observing this, Izan shifted his gaze towards the window, unwilling to let the moment extend.

“Sleep, Lamine,” he said, popping a couple of gummies into his mouth.

“It’s for the promotional material.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It is.”

“Even if it were, let’s leave that to the PR team, assuming we have one,” Izan mumbled the latter part, uncertain if a dedicated PR team even existed, given the coach’s strict policy of barring cameras during training sessions.

With a slow sigh, Lamine accepted Izan’s counsel. The van pulled away from the curb, and the city of Chattanooga began to recede into the darkness outside the windows.

They hadn’t traveled far when his phone illuminated in his hand.

Olivia

Glancing at the messages, he initiated a reply — typing what would become three words before an impulse halted him.

He checked the time displayed on his phone: 1:43.

He looked again, more carefully this time, and quickly calculated the time difference.

Six hours ahead.

It was nearing eight in the morning in London.

She hadn't been waiting up at all. She had likely woken, perhaps already eaten, possibly still in her sleepwear, and her phone was the first thing she’d reached for.

He deleted his unfinished message and began typing anew.

Izan:

A swift reply followed.

Olivia: .

Izan:

A cascade of heart emojis arrived from Olivia, soon followed by a picture.

Opening it, he saw an image of her in the kitchen, dressed only in a shirt, with Komi and Miranda standing beside her.

Izan:

As if anticipating his message, she sent another one the instant his appeared.

Olivia:

Izan chuckled at her response and typed a brief message before placing his phone face down on his knee and leaning back.

The imposing structure emerged slowly from the Tennessee night, revealing its full form as they drew nearer.

Floodlights along the perimeter cast a sharp, pale luminescence across a lawn of an almost unnervingly vibrant green, giving it an artificial appearance, yet it was entirely real.

The van decelerated moments later, eventually coming to a complete stop.

Around Izan, a collective reawakening occurred among the passengers, individuals who had been suspended between sleep and consciousness for the past twenty minutes, now tasked with reconstituting themselves into functioning humans.

Lamine leaned between the seats, gazing out at the field bathed in the glow of the floodlights, the entire illuminated expanse stark against the dark Tennessee sky.

He remained silent for a moment, a rarity given his usual chattiness.

“Okay,” he finally declared, beginning to extricate himself from his seat.

From behind him, Izan continued to observe the surroundings for a little longer. Then, he reached down, gathered the small bag he had kept between his feet, and stepped out into the balmy evening air of the American South.

“Let me have that duffel,” Izan requested sometime later, approaching Pablo, who, with the assistance of the venue’s staff, was in the process of unloading the luggage.

Pablo gave a single nod and began to search through the bags.

Barely a moment passed before he produced a duffel bag adorned with the Adidas logo.

"Here you go," he stated, extending the bag towards Izan.

Izan accepted it with a gentle smile, mouthing a quiet 'Thank you' before he proceeded to catch up with the rest of the group, who had already begun their advance into the lobby of the lodging facility.