Chapter 104: The Counter-Surveillance Squad
"Swansea kick Cardiff City into the promotion play-off zone!"
"Chesterfield benefit from the chaos and now have hopes of direct promotion to the Second Division!"
"The Swans complete the double over the Bluebirds! Welsh football's order overturned!"
When Lynn saw the Welsh media reports the next day, he naturally smiled from ear to ear.
Good news kept coming. After Swansea defeated Cardiff City, the number of registered fans on the official website rose slightly. According to the marketing department's research, quite a few fans from the surrounding counties had been attracted into supporting Swansea. Their loyalty was basically nonexistent for now, but it was still a positive sign.
Lynn continued working as usual. In the final stage of the season, Swansea's schedule pressure was actually not that heavy. Only round 43, squeezed between rounds 42 and 44, was a midweek fixture that forced them into a two-match week. The remaining matches were all on weekends.
After training ended on Thursday, Villa sat in the dressing room in a daze.
Lynn was talking with Evra in the dressing room about things he needed to focus on in training. He wanted Evra to strengthen his attacking ability on the foundation of stable defending.
Ibrahimović came out after showering, wrapped in a towel and humming, clearly in a good mood. His locker was separated from Villa's only by Cromwell's, since the three of them wore numbers 9, 10, and 11 respectively.
Ibrahimović had just pulled out a pair of underwear and put it on when he turned and noticed Villa had been sitting there staring into space for a long time. Curious, he asked, "David, have you gone stupid? Which pretty girl are you thinking about?"
Everyone knew Villa had a girlfriend, his childhood sweetheart from Spain. None of them had met her in person, but they had seen her photo in his locker.
Sometimes when Villa spaced out, they would tease him for being lovesick.
Ibrahimović's voice was loud, and everyone instinctively looked toward Villa. They were just about to join in teasing him when they saw Villa raise his head very seriously.
Then Villa said in a low voice, "Zlatan, I think someone's been following me lately."
Everyone immediately gathered around in curiosity.
James Cook asked with deep concern, "Do you know who's following you?"
"I don't know. It's just a feeling. It's strange. You feel like someone's following you, but when you look back, you can't see anyone suspicious. Still, it makes me feel weird. A little worried too."
Ibrahimović said carelessly, "You're scared? What's there to be scared of? Be ready to fight at any moment. If anyone tries anything with you, beat them until they're picking up their teeth off the floor!"
Villa shook his head slightly. "I'm not scared. I'm worried because… my family."
Villa's family also lived in Swansea. After he transferred here, the club provided his family with a large free apartment, which happened to be right across the hall from Ibrahimović's. Sometimes Ibrahimović would shamelessly go over to eat with them.
Ibrahimović thought of Villa's parents, who ran a small supermarket in the neighborhood. The supermarket itself was also owned by the club, but based on the business income, Villa's parents received a share. It had allowed them to settle down and live peacefully here.
He frowned and said, "How about this? I'll walk home with you from now on. Huh, that sounds kind of weird."
Cromwell snorted in disdain. "What use is that? You can't protect David twenty-four hours a day forever. That only treats the symptom, not the cause."
Ibrahimović glared at Cromwell. "Oliver, don't just talk like it's easy. What do you suggest, then?"
Cromwell stroked his chin, looking thoughtful.
Everyone stared at him, waiting to hear what idea he had.
Lynn was still standing by the door and had not left. He was also watching Villa's side.
After a while, Cromwell clapped his hands and said, "Here's what we do. Counter-surveillance! David, you go home like normal. We split up and follow behind you to find out who's following you. Once we catch the person, we hand him over to Zlatan."
"I'm not the police. Why hand him to me?"
"Because you're a karate black belt!"
Villa thought about it carefully, then said, "That doesn't seem right. It'll trouble all of you…"
"Don't say distant stuff like that. It's fine. Leave it to us. Since we're doing counter-surveillance, we can't have too many people. I think four is enough. Priority goes to people who can fight, so we don't get beaten up if there's a clash. Zlatan goes without saying. No point wasting a karate black belt. Who else can fight?"
James Cook enthusiastically raised his hand. "Me, me, me!"
"You should go home. If a real fight breaks out, we'll have to look after you. I'm not saying you're weak and can't fight, but you don't have much experience. If it turns into a street fight, you'll definitely suffer."
Cromwell immediately rejected James Cook.
James Cook said aggrievedly, "But I want to help too!"
"Mm, we've already felt your enthusiasm. A burst of explosive power has been injected into our bodies. With your support, I can now punch a cow to death. Well done, James. You've already helped a lot!"
James Cook walked to the side in speechless frustration and sulked.
Cromwell continued organizing the counter-surveillance squad.
Pedretti said, "I'm going that way anyway, so I'll join."
Cromwell nodded. "Mm. Benoît's feet are nimble, so he'll definitely hit the target if he kicks someone. You're in. One spot left. Who's coming?"
Many teammates raised their hands. Villa looked at the scene, unsure whether he should laugh or be moved.
In the end, Cromwell chose Friedrich. If a German man fought, that was when everyone would learn what a real tough guy looked like.
After the plan was settled, everyone began moving.
Villa packed up his things, put on his bag, and was the first to leave the club's training base. He waved to the reporters waiting around who wanted to interview him, indicating that he would not be accepting any interviews, then started walking home.
His home was close to the training base, just three streets away, less than one kilometer in total.
After he left, Cromwell, Ibrahimović, Pedretti, and Friedrich also left the club one after another. They spread out in order on the pavements on both sides of the road, following Villa from far behind while watching for movement behind him.
After passing one block, Cromwell, who was about a hundred meters away from Villa, picked up his phone and called Ibrahimović on the other side of the road.
"Zlatan, did you notice? There's someone about thirty meters behind David who's been following him the whole time. The person in the black hooded tracksuit. Around 1.65 to 1.70 meters tall, looks pretty thin."
"Mm, I noticed. Could it be that person? They do look pretty sneaky."
"Don't know. Let's follow a little longer."
Another block passed. Villa was about to enter the neighborhood where the club had bought a large number of homes, the community where his family lived. The person in the black hooded tracksuit was still following around thirty meters behind him.
This time, Cromwell picked up his phone again, but he called Villa.
Villa had been fine at first, only feeling uncomfortable from that vague sense of being followed. But today, he had suddenly become extremely nervous.
"Oliver, how is it? Is someone following me?"
"Not sure. Stop walking now and look back."
"Hm?"
"Do what I say. We'll know right away if someone is following you."
"Okay."
Villa immediately stopped and looked back. There were not too many people on the street, but not too few either. When he suddenly turned around, he could not tell who looked suspicious.
But farther behind, Cromwell, Ibrahimović, Friedrich, and Pedretti all saw the person in the black hooded tracksuit stop as well. The person casually turned to face a shop, looking as if they were about to go inside and buy something.
Cromwell immediately shouted, "It's him!"
As soon as he shouted, Ibrahimović and Pedretti from the other side of the road ran over. Then, with Friedrich and Cromwell, the four of them charged toward the person in the black hooded tracksuit like wild horses breaking loose.
The person turned and saw people chasing after them. The sight made it obvious they were coming to catch them, so the person immediately panicked and ran forward. But then they saw Villa also running toward them, so they turned and darted into another street.
"Don't let him get away!" Cromwell shouted.
As he was running, he suddenly realized someone was overtaking him. He turned his head and was instantly stunned.
"Holy shit, Robert, Horatio, why are you here?"
Swansea's two speedsters, Robert Badenberg and Horatio Nelson, turned and made faces at Cromwell. As Nelson sprinted like the wind, he shouted, "We all came!"
Cromwell immediately stopped and looked back.
He was shocked!
A whole crowd was charging over!
And wasn't the person leading the large group James Cook?
Gabbidon, Balitsch, Evra, Brunel, Glendower…
All the other Swansea teammates had come too!
Cromwell could not help laughing. "Haha, we're doing counter-surveillance, but we didn't expect there'd be people following us from behind too!"
"Oliver, stop talking nonsense! Who are we chasing? Why did you all start running?"
James Cook rushed up to Cromwell and asked anxiously.
Cromwell really did not know whether to laugh or cry.
"You don't even know who we're chasing, so why are you running?"
"Because you all ran!"
"Fine. The target is the person in the black tracksuit. Come on, we'll catch him any second!"
Swansea's whole group charging down the street terrified the passersby.
The fastest runners, Nelson and Badenberg, caught up with the person in the black hooded tracksuit less than a hundred meters down the next street and blocked the way.
Villa arrived right after them.
He was a little surprised, because the person in the black tracksuit had directly crouched down, hugged their legs, pulled the hood up, and lowered their head. They looked like a hedgehog curling itself into a ball.
"Ah, who exactly are you? What bad intentions do you have following Villa?"
"I'm telling you, David isn't someone you can bully!"
"You dare touch David, and we'll…"
A group of Swansea players rushed over and surrounded the person. They had only shouted a couple of lines when the person crouching on the ground, hugging their legs and looking as if the whole world had abandoned them, suddenly burst into tears.
From the voice, it was a girl!
Every Swansea player surrounding her froze with dumbfounded expressions.
Glendower and Brunel, who had run the slowest, saw everyone gathered in a circle and thought they were beating up the stalker. The two of them also charged over shouting.
"Let me kick him twice!"
"I can take him one-on-one! One-on-one!"
James Cook immediately turned around and raised both hands, covering Glendower's mouth with one and Brunel's with the other. Brunel shook his head free and said unhappily, "What's going on? You lot already had your fun beating him?"
James Cook lowered his voice awkwardly. "Something's not right. Stop shouting about fighting and killing. You're scaring her."
Glendower and Brunel looked at each other and said in unison, "Hm?"
The girl surrounded by the crowd now raised her head. Her hood fell back, revealing smooth dark-brown hair. Her clean, beautiful face was covered in tears, and her eyes were red from crying. She looked so pitiful it tugged at the heart.
The Swansea players immediately started whispering among themselves.
"It's a girl?"
"She really is a girl!"
"Hey, she's a girl!"
"Fuck, I'm not stupid. I can see she's a girl. Stop telling me she's a girl."
"What's going on? How is she a girl?"
"Who are you asking? Ask her mum."
Villa looked at the girl, then at his teammates around him. Then he looked at Cromwell, who was scratching his head, and said, "Did we get it wrong?"
Cromwell scratched his head too, feeling baffled. No matter how he looked at it, this young girl did not seem like a bad person.
He tilted his chin toward Ibrahimović. Ibrahimović spread his hands. Friedrich frowned and nodded. Pedretti was staring straight at the girl and could not tear his eyes away, earning disdainful looks from the other three.
In truth, they were trying to confirm with each other whether they had mistaken the person.
Cromwell braced himself and said, "We… should… should not have got it wrong. She followed you for two streets. When you turned around, only she reacted like she was trying to cover herself. We probably… didn't get it wrong, right?"
Villa felt very awkward.
Just as he lowered his head to look at the girl, she stood up and said with a wronged sob, "I was the one following you! I like David! I just wanted him to give me an autograph and take a photo with me. You… what did you think I was going to do? Why did all of you chase me like I robbed a bank? I… I… wahhh…"
As she spoke, the girl started crying again from sheer grievance.
At this moment, Pedretti suddenly stepped forward and said, "Sorry, sorry, we didn't mean it. So you're David's fan. Then you should just ask him for an autograph directly. He's not an unreasonable person. He's very nice. I'm very nice too. My name is Benoît Pedretti. Don't be scared. We don't mean any harm."
Everyone immediately took one step back, leaving the girl and Pedretti standing there. Swansea's players stared at Pedretti with contempt.
"Didn't he just say he wanted to be the first one to go up and kick?"
"If Horatio and Robert hadn't run fast, this kid would probably have come flying in from behind and kicked the girl to the ground…"
The girl wiped her tears. She had been holding a shirt in her arms all along. She said, "It's not like I haven't asked him for an autograph outside the training base. But every time training ends, he only signs for a dozen or so fans, and I can't squeeze to the front. There were two times I asked him outside the club too, but he just shook his head coolly and turned away…"
After the girl finished speaking pitifully, Pedretti immediately said to Villa, "David, how could you treat your fan like that? That's too heartbreaking! Boss said after training, we should try to satisfy fans' requests for autographs as much as possible. How could you be so careless with a fan who supports you? Come here and sign for her."
Villa looked innocent, but at that moment, the corner of his mouth lifted.
Not only him. All the other players around could see it too.
Pedretti had fallen for this girl at first sight!
Villa walked up and said to the girl, "Sorry. I misunderstood you."
The girl wiped the tears from her face again. At this point, it was hard to tell whether she was excited or had turned from sadness to joy, but she immediately smiled.
"It's fine, it's fine. I really have been following you these past few days, so I wasn't exactly acting properly either. My name is Carolina Isabel. I really like you. I hope you get better and better at Swansea. You're the best, Villa!"
Villa took the pen Cromwell helpfully handed over and signed his name on the shirt the girl held out.
Just then, a Bentley stopped beside the crowd. The window rolled down, and everyone saw Swansea manager Lynn sitting in the driver's seat. At that moment, Lynn was laughing so hard he was leaning back and forth.
"Hahahahaha! This is the person your counter-surveillance operation caught? Such a beautiful young lady? Hey, I really have to hand it to you lot. Remember to treat the young lady to dinner, then behave like gentlemen and send her home safely."
Lynn was laughing so hard tears came out. As soon as he finished speaking, he drove away.
The others did not see the two Swansea security guards sitting in the back seat.
---------
Read 50 chapters ahead and support me on patreon.
patreon (.)com/Newbietranslator