Chapter 22: Night Shift in the Booth
Stade Louis II – Late Night
The tactical room smelled like static and cold coffee.
One flickering monitor at the far end hadn’t been turned off properly, casting a faint blue glow across the whiteboard wall. Outside the window, the empty stands of Stade Louis II curved in silence, their rows of red plastic seats ghosted by the amber stadium lights. The hum of the cooling system filled the stillness—not loud, but enough to remind everyone that time was slipping past midnight.
Demien sat closest to the main screen, arms folded, jaw angled slightly toward his left shoulder. His back didn’t touch the chair. He never slouched when footage was rolling.
Michel sat two seats down, sleeves pushed to the elbow, pen resting against his chin. Across from them, two younger analysts hunched behind keyboards and laptops, occasionally tapping notes, rewinding seconds, clipping frames.
On the screen, the timestamp read: 50:07.
Pause.
Frame back. Back again. Play.
Rothen lunged. Too early. The press hadn’t formed yet. The rest of the line was still sliding over.
Demien circled the screen with the digital pen. His voice came flat and precise. "Wrong trigger. Ball-side movement hadn’t committed."
Michel didn’t answer. His eyes stayed locked on the image frozen onscreen—Strasbourg’s left midfielder already peeling behind the exposed space. One touch later, and the entire shape unraveled.