Q was mixing himself a whiskey sour. "You want something?" He asked.
"No." Malachi Lubret replied. "Thank you." He added, grudgingly.
"Listen, I don't like this any more than you do, but we have our orders."
"I'm not pleased you gave that information to Lewis."
"I don't care." Q replied, pointedly. "I do my job. That's all. If you can't, you fail the assessment. Simple."
Lubret said nothing, just a grunt.
"Your analytical skill is considerable, though. You should be proud."
Still no reply.
Sensing the tension, Q changed tack. "Crunch will be here soon." He announced almost nonchalantly, throwing his comm device to one side while collapsing into a chair opposite Lubret. "You know each other?"
"No."
'Wow, so talkative.' Q thought to himself. The awkwardness was getting more and more frustrating by the second, he needed to do something. "Tell me, why did you accept this role?"
Lubret paused, clearly formulating his answer carefully. 'He thinks this is part of the assessment.' Q noticed. 'Fool.'
"I wanted to ... do something for my country." Lubret replied, struggling to say what was on his mind.
"How cliche."
"No it's..." Lubret paused. 'I know where he is going with this. Has he still not come to terms with that?' Q thought. "...I let the nation down. I want to make up for it."
'K, you old bastard. You picked him deliberately.' Q realised.
"I see." Q stood up and walked to the cabinet to make another whiskey sour. "You want one?" He asked Lubret again.
"No. I don't drink."
"Suit yourself." Q plopped back into the chair and sipped his drink.
*BRRRRING*
The doorbell.
"Ah, Crunch is here." Q practically leapt out of the chair, grateful for the diversion.
* * * * *
Ezio Grassi's lone strike put Osarius into the quarter finals of the World Cup yet again, after a one-nil win over Paradystopia. The Cloudsdale hitman has been visibly frustrated by the closer attention teams have paid to him, leading to a limited number of chances coming his way in this tournament -- as highlighted by Osarius' relatively low goal tally this time around -- so it was no surprise to see him celebrate emphatically.
"Ezio doesn't usually have outbursts like that," manager Jermain Lewis admitted, "but scoring goals is his 'thing', and it's been difficult for him." Grassi is considered to be among the best strikers in the world, and will certainly be hoping to continue scoring in the Firebirds' next match against the surprise package of the tournament: Antoletia.
The Fire Ants have earned their place in the last eight with a hard-fought penalty shootout victory over Northern Sunrise Islands in the round of sixteen, after holding the Vaporeons -- and their talented attacking duo of Alcouin and Felipe Maniche -- to one hundred and twenty goalless minutes. That they were even in the round of sixteen at all was surprising, coming off the back of an upset win over Saintland on the final day of the group stage. Firebirds captain Roque Acosta -- who is allegedly a target for Nepharim side AFC Treason -- refused to underestimate the team's next opponents, though. "If they're in the last eight, they're a good team, it's that simple." He explained. "At this level, the difference between two teams isn't huge. It's not like we're playing against amateurs, we're going to be up against eleven players who represent the best professional talent of their nation. We have to be prepared for that." Given Osarius' historic propensity for failure in similar situations -- some fans still haven't come to terms with the playoff defeat to Polar Islandstates in the playoffs for World Cup 56, for example -- the lack of complacency is understandable.
With Antoletia expected to play a balanced 4-5-1, it might be difficult for Osarius to control the midfield as they are wont to do. With that in mind, Jermain Lewis might consider an adaptation to his usual system. Playing a counter-based system is unlikely to be effective against a system which will likely look to do the same thing, but a possession game will be difficult against a five-man midfield. "We'll find a way." Lewis insists, but it's hard to see exactly how, without a dramatic alteration in tactics. Roberto Cormega suggests that a major change would be to the detriment of the Firebirds, "In a cup, like this, you can sometimes get away with a major change in system for a one-off game... but Jermain has drilled this team to play the Osarian 4-3-3 for a long time now. It's going to be tough for him, even with the flexibility of the players at his disposal."
* * * * *
A hotel room, Cawln
Q punched in the code for K Division's secure line, seething. "Four-four-seven-nine-eight, Suzaku."
"Your conclusions, Agent Q?" K answered. No greeting, no pleasantries. Nothing. Straight to business.
"You know damn well that neither of those two are suitable field agents! Why am I really here?!" The anger spewed forth unbridled. While both Lubret and Kinsella were intelligent enough, and analytical enough to be field agents, both had failed spectacularly in Q's assessment. They clearly required training.
"You are there to oversee their mission, Q." K replied calmly. "It was all in the dossier."
"K, I'm not stupid."
"I know. That's why you're an agent."
"Then why am I here?"
"Return to VBF. We'll talk."
"We're talking now."
"This is not the time, Q. Return to VBF."
"K, goddammit!"
"Debrief Crunch and Kholera, place them on sleeper status. Leave Agent M to carry out the mission."
"You're changing the subject."
"Agent Q, you have your orders."
"You expect Agent M to actually carry out this insane scheme?"
"Yes."
Q paused. "For fuck's sake, K."
"You have your orders." K repeated. "Report to VBF within 48 hours." The call terminated.
Q stood, silently for a moment. 'What the hell is going on? That old bastard must have a plan, but why didn't he tell me?' He downed his whiskey sour.
"Fuck's sake, Dad." He muttered, throwing the empty glass into the wall before snatching up his coat and storming out of his room.
