Hendry Jackson cocked his head. Camden had answered a question hanging in the air, but one evidently only she could see. "What's that, now?"
Camden jutted her head at the training pitch, her arms still crossed, braced against the harsh winds. "You're staring at my girl, Ali. Who is training like shit today. Wondering why we brought the fat lass all this way only to play bit parts."
"Well..."
"Wondering what I see when you don't, but not enough to lean on her. And there's your answer. She's my luck. I like having her around, yeah? Sticking out like a sore thumb, but she sticks out 'cause she's got something extra to her."
"Yeah, that's a nice way to put it..."
"Sure, but she's my luck."
"You keep saying that!"
She grinned up at Jackson. "You need one wherever you go. Had Gwyn Hexham at Union, Franzi Locke at Treason. Someone who won't get her chances often, but when they come..." She snapped her fingers. "No other fucker on this team could've taken it. Had to be her. Mark me, the day comes when we build this team around her, but here and now? Her time will come before the tournament is out."
And that day had come.
It was not a day high on inspiration, or on chances. Two tired sides slugging it out - and one, at least, in Brenecia, who had not expected to make it this far in the first place. Camden had already used most of the expected switches of play: Irina Alderwood had replaced the exhausted Wake, who had played almost every minute, and Byrne had swapped to her right flank, though she was not so two-footed as Wake. That did not pay off; neither did veteran Siobhan Baker replacing the impetuous, frustrated Stokes. Baker was there to convert chances, but she struck a sure tap-in (well, sure to the fans at home, anyway) against the post late on. Alyce Kearney had arrived for Conway, and that had paid off, at least, the Nephar adding bite and thrust to the midfield. Not enough for a goal, though at least she'd tested Ito's palms.
For an hour, Brenecia's best player had been Lienke Covolan, able to find the gaps in Kandorith's fluid press. She'd done fuck-all in the past half-hour. She was exhausted, having carried the Patriots this far, and it was plain enough she needed to go. Still... extra time meant another window, a sixth substitute.
Covolan had to go, or maybe Byrne. Three options to replace them:
Jadwiga Lofthouse could come on for Covolan as a second striker. Size, graft, grit. Hoof it long and pray, and she took good penalties, too, should it come to that.
Byrne could be replaced by Wakering, a conventional right-sided winger. If she had two substitutes, maybe she'd do that, sling crosses at Lofthouse. That'd change things up. Though with Meade in fine form after the Delte match, penalties wouldn't be horrible...
... or she could just say fuck it and hurl Rourke on. Wasn't her fault the Brenecian public were sleeping on her.
She needn't have worried. They wouldn't sleep on her much longer.
The number 11 limped briskly off the pitch and collapsed into a pile of bones on the bench, the number 26 waddled on, and the game kicked off. Kandorith, cautious. Brenecia... also cautious. It had not been a vintage game. Five minutes passed and neither Baker nor Yuki Ono had managed a shot, though Mitoma and Nakamura had tested Meade from outside the box. Kandorith had been the better team, and looked marginally the likelier to score.
Unless...
Meade caught a cross from Shikashu Nakamura, looked up, rolled the ball down the right to Aine Cooper. Cooper to Kearney; she lost the ball to Mitoma, but Mitoma was quickly clobbered by Seager. Cooper took up possession again, thought she saw an opportunity, thrashed out a big switch down the left. Irina Alderwood hit a cross with her first touch, headed away confidently by Tsuchiya, hard, just over the veteran Kuronuma's head.
Straight into Rourke's chest, rolling off her chest and onto that boot, The Boot, her left, because her ilk of player was always, somehow, left-footed. And she kept it there, like a fucking freestyler, until Kuronuma made a play for it and she flicked it diffidently over her head. Found a surprising change of pace - though literally any change of pace would have qualified as surprising - drove in down the left, the white wedge breaking apart the purple block, Asato making a play for her but being dribbled around with casual ease, Omori came in hard trying to draw the foul just outside the box, but the ball, somehow, flicked over him, she hurdled him and, before the ball even touched the ground, she contorted her body and thrashed a vicious volley past the suddenly exposed Ito.
Alderwood had been open. Baker was screaming for the ball even as the shot went in. But conventional attacking structure had been given an hour and a half to work out, without result. Call it skill. Call it X-Factor. Camden called it luck, but it had been Rourke to find a way through regardless.
A different player might have whipped off her shirt, gone frothing at the mouth and hurled herself into the home fans. But Rourke? She just squinted and smiled, like a contented cat in the sun, and waited for her teammates to mob her.
Kandorith 0 - 0 Brenecia (0-1 AET)
(4-3-3) 1 - Meade; 2 - Cooper, 18 - Wheater, 6 - Jeong, 3 - Culpepper (25 - Chalk 70'); 8 - Conway (24 - Kearney 76'), 4 - Briggs (19 - Seager 76'), 11 - Covolan (26 - Rourke FT'); 15 - Wake (16 - Alderwood 70'), 13 - Stokes (9 - Baker 76'), 10 - Byrne
Goal: Rourke 99'
Injuries: N/A
Suspensions: N/A
Lineup vs. Banija
(4-3-3) 1 - Meade; 17 - Hadley, 18 - Wheater, 6 - Jeong, 3 - Culpepper; 14 - Cheschon, 4 - Briggs, 11 - Covolan; 15 - Wake, 21 - Lofthouse, 10 - Byrne