"You know what silence really sounds like?" Leo asked aloud, staring at the tall windows behind Sir Alistair Finch’s desk. “It’s the sound of power shifting hands.”

Sir Alistair said nothing at first. He was sitting in his large leather chair, back straight but eyes heavy. The Champions League final was just days away, and yet the real battle that mattered more than silverware was unfolding in this quiet room.

“You’ve done something remarkable, Captain Sterling,” Sir Alistair ...