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Infantino had called him in for a meeting just before the start of the World Cup.
Leo did not think much of it at the time. He had expected the call since he was called up. Leo understood quite well how important the success of this World Cup competition was, not just to FIFA but the host nation as well. So, when Infantino invited him for a meeting, Leo did not think much of it.
The meeting, however, had left Leo more confused than anything. Infantino was tense, his beady eyes stared intently at Leo as he went off on a soliloquy about Leo's feats and accomplishments, as well as ushering in a new dawn in football, championed by the younger, more vibrant footballers.
Leo tuned out halfway through the meeting once he realized simply nodding to whatever spiel Infantino had gone off on was enough to get him through the meeting.
“I knew you would understand.” Infantino beamed, aggressively shaking Leo's hand at the end of the meeting. He looks genuinely happy and Leo is happy to leave.
It was easy enough to put the meeting behind him once the matches started. The thrill of wearing the albiceleste, of representing his country is incomparable and feeling has only grown since they became World Champions.
The team is doing great despite the injuries most of the players suffered before the competition. The games are thrilling and they have to fight for every victory, and fight, they did, which makes every victory taste all the more sweeter. The fans are fired up and the atmosphere is electric.
Leo feels unstoppable. At the start of the world cup, when the idea of going back to back had first started floating around, Leo had dreamed, but a part of him had dismissed the thought as impossible. But now, Leo believes they actually have a shot.
However, things start to go south following their victory against Egypt. The media and foreign fans turn against the team. Leo has had a long practice of tuning out the media and the hate he gets, so he encourages his team to do the same.
Things come to a head after the victory against England.
This was more than just a world cup match; it was revenge, however Argentines could have it. Between beating England and heading to another World Cup final, with a chance of winning a back to back trophy, all inhibitions were lost in their celebrations.
Both the team and the fans had been drunk on their victory.
The English had a history of weaponizing their media against anyone they hated, and Leo expected nothing less. What he did not expect, was another call from Infantino. This time, there was a driver waiting to take Leo to him.
“I was sure we had an understanding after our last meeting.” Infantino says the moment Leo takes a seat opposite him.
“Uh…” Leo pauses, trying to recall the content of their last meeting. “We did?”
Infantino glared at him. “Then would you care to explain what it is you're doing?”
“If it's about the Malvinas flag, we didn't make it. A fan threw it to us. What were we supposed to do?” Leo barely stops himself from shrugging, knowing that it was not much of a big deal but Infantino could make it so if he felt undermined.
“Not the flag,” Infantino says in a clipped voice, and Leo can hear the unvoiced ‘you idiot’. “Your performance.”
Now Leo is genuinely confused. “What about my performance?”
“I know you tune people out when they talk,” Infantino starts, nose flaring. “But I'd hoped that you would have grown out of that bad habit in your old age! I told you that this competition was meant to usher in a new era!”
“Yes, you did.” Leo nods in agreement, trying to placate Infantino and prove that he listens when the man talks. “Did I do something wrong?”
“You mean, besides taking your team to the final and being on the brink of being back to back champions?”
“How does me winning the world cup stop the next generation of footballers?”
Infantino comes around his desk. He grabs Leo's hand as he takes the seat besides him. “Leo, you're 39. You only have two or three years, max, before you retire. You have not played on the biggest stage in three years. Yet, the media is more interested in you and about what you're doing than anything that happens in Europe. Viewership and attendance are dropping across the board, young players are leaving Europe. While here in America, it's the opposite. You're selling out stadiums, despite the prices of the tickets and your name is on every lip. Even in Europe, they can't stop talking about what you're doing in America. The attention should be in the big leagues. We have the players, but there will be no spotlight for them if you continue to hog all the attention.”
He pulls his hand back. “I didn't ask for the spotlight to be on me.”
“You never ask for anything.” Infantino says, annoyed. “This World Cup is not for Argentina.”
Leo shrugs. “Spain is a good team. The game will be evenly matched. I don't think you have anything to worry about.”
“Are you going to make me spell it out for you, Leo?”
“You're asking me to throw a World Cup final match. I cannot do that, not to my team. They have all worked very hard to get here.” Leo has experienced so much loss in his life, he has had too many trophies slip through his fingers after losing many final matches. He would never do that to his teammates.
Infantino is quiet for a moment, then he rises to his feet and returns to his seat behind the desk. “The world is not very happy with your team. I know the hostility has been worse since last night's game.”
Leo shrugs, unsure where this is going.
“I just wonder how badly you want this victory. What is a second World Cup trophy worth to you, Leo? What are you willing to give up for it?”
“Are you threatening me?” Leo asks, almost blinded by rage.
“Threaten you? I would never. You're like a roach that will not be exterminated. But your teammates are especially unpopular right now, and very dispensable. If some unfortunate accident were to befall one or two of them on the pitch because you couldn't help but pull one of your tricks during the game, well. No one would care. The English, in fact, might be grateful.”
Leo leaves the meeting dazed.
It is hard spending time with the team after the meeting, but if this is the last time he'd get to have with them, he will be present for every single moment. Not that the team gives him much of a choice. They're especially clingy in the days leading to the final. Which is something, considering they live in each other's pockets.
Rodri and Lea never leave his side. They spend the night before the final in Leo's room, cramming themselves onto the large bed. Emi has to take the couch due to his large frame. Lauti, Juan and Taglifico spread out on the floor.
Leo had been sure Scaloni would have something to say about it but their coach simply shook his head without saying anything when he found them later that night.
He wished Infantino had threatened him. Leo would live and die for his country, but he is not sure any trophy is worth his teammates’ lives. Infantino clearly knew that.
“ I know we all want to win today, but no matter how the game ends today, remember this:” Leo tells them during his speech before the game. “No trophy will define who we are or take away what we have built together.” He looks at all the faces of his teammates. “And If this is the last game we ever play together, then I want to thank you all for the best years of my career. It has been a great honor playing with you all, one I will never exchange for anything in the world.”
“It won't be your last game.” Enzo interrupts him, already tearing up. He is not the only one as Leo can see Cuti and Licha wiping at their eyes.
The mood is somber when they come out of the locker room, and it remains so until they step out on the pitch, despite Leo's attempts to cheer them up and his promises that he will not announce his retirement after the game.
The match is the most lackluster game Leo has ever played.
Nobody is making any attempt to push the ball forward and they are getting run over by Spain. It does not help that every time they try, it ends in a foul against them.
Throughout the game, Leo feels watched. He feels like an insect under a microscope. It would be stupid to feel that way while playing in a stadium full of spectators, but the hairs on the back of his neck have been standing up since he set foot on the pitch.
He scans the stands, trying to figure out the reason for this feeling. Then he finds him: a sniper perched at the very top of the stadium, barely visible. The tip of his rifle glinting in the sun.
The weight of the threat almost crushes him.
Try as he might, Leo cannot get the sniper off his mind. Every time the ball lands at his feet, the tip of the rifle is all he can see.
He does not want a trophy paid for with his team’s blood.
Soon enough, it's half time and Leo is relieved to be out of the pitch. He was starting to fear for Dibu's life.
The players are especially angry and everyone is in a bad mood, even Scaloni. Leo tries to comfort them but he cannot get the picture of the sniper atop the stadium out of his head.
“You should get checked out,” One of the physios tell him. “You don't look so good.”
“I'm fine.” Leo tries to dismiss him but Scaloni appears at his side with a pointed look.
Leo follows her out, despite feeling perfectly fine.
“This is bullshit!” he hears Licha explode the moment the door closes behind him
“Licha.” several voices warns at the same time.
The physio tries to get Leo to continue to the equipment room, but leo is frozen.
“Don't Licha me!” Licha is saying. “They could have just canceled the game and given them to trophy instead of using threats”
Leo pushes the door open, to the shock of everyone in the room. “What are you talking about?” He asks, entering the room and closing the door behind him.
“Leo,” Lio starts, but leo doesn't give him the chance to continue.
“I heard everything. Someone threatened you and you clearly wanted me out of the room.”
Lio sighs. “We just didn't want you to worry.”
“Why? I'm always going to worry. A threat against you is something I'll worry about.”
“After the England game,” Rodri says while looking down at his feet. “A suit from FIFA showed up. They threatened to kill you if we don't throw the game.”
Leo must have heard wrong. “Kill… Me?”
“Yeah,” Licha says. “And now there's a sniper above the stadium.”
“You've seen him too?”
“I think we were meant to see him.” Lea says.
“Okay, but are you sure it was I'm the one who they threatened to kill?” Leo presses.
“We have only one captain called Lionel Messi, Capi.” Lea quips.
Leo shakes his head. “I had a talk with Infantino. During the meeting, he threatened to kill you guys.” Leo informs them.
“Wait,” Cuti explodes. “They threatened you too?”
“Not me. You.”
“Let me get this straight.” Ota stands, raising his voice over the noise that suddenly exploded in the room. “Infantino called you to give you and threatens to harm us, then he sends someone here to us, who threatens to harm you.”
“You know what this means, right?” Leo asks, making eye contact with Ota.
“That they know how to make sure we comply?” Ota asks, at the same time Lio orders: “whatever you're thinking, no.”
“Dibu is already risking his life keeping us in the game. What if they target him for making too many saves?”
“It will be a good way to go,“ Dibu walks across the room to stand in front of Leo. “But we all know it's not me that they want. Leo, nobody is sending a sniper for me and you're not risking your life to score a goal.”
“I don't care about the threat if it's me that they want. I've had a great career.”
“And you will have a long life after career.” Lio says. “Promise me you will not do anything self-sacrificing.”
Leo sighs.
They head out to the pitch for the second half of the game, and not much changes in their gameplay. They continued to play as they had done the entire first half and Dibu continued to carry the weight of the team. From time to time, Leo cannot help but look up at the sniper.
The go on to extra time, with a goalless draw, despite being down to ten men. Leo is not sure he wants drag this to penalties. That would put Dibu in danger. Dibu still has years left in his career. He has not won a champions league title, or even a league title.
Conceding a goal in the second half of extra time takes the pressure off the team, but his teammates look crushed.
It's injury time now, only a few more minutes before Spain is declared victors. The Argentine fans are loud, the sound of their chants taking over the arena. Leo looks up at the sniper, seeing his glinting gun. The weight of the threat is heavy but suddenly, he feels desperate.
The ball lands at his feet and without thinking, he drives forward. Pushing through players, barely seeing anyone. He is a few meters away from the box when he takes the shot, stopping only long enough to see the ball slam right into the net and then he takes off running in celebration.
Later, Leo would realize that the stadium did not explode in cheers. He would learn that his equalizer was met with grave silence.
For now, Leo turns to find his teammates who run towards him, but did not envelope him in a hug.
Ota grabs his face, calling out his name. When Leo tries his wrap his arms around him, his right hand does not cooperate.
Medina, Marcos and Simeone are crying, and not the kind of happy tears that Leo has gotten used to seeing on their faces.
Leo feels confused and disoriented as Ota wrestles him to the ground and makes him stay there while the rest of the team build a wall around him.
Some Spanish players have gathered around him too. Most of them look disoriented. Pedri has snot and tears running down his face. Another young Spanish player has his head between his knees and Leo wants to check on the player but Ota won't let him move.
“Will you stop struggling?” Ota yells. “You're going to ruin your shoulder!”
Only then does Leo see the blood. His jersey is covered in blood. Ota and Marc, too, are both covered in blood.
Scaloni rushing towards him along with the medics is the last thing he sees before everything goes dark.
When Leo wakes up, he is surrounded by his teammates. He is out of his jersey and his shoulder has been bandaged up.
“You're up, thank God!” Leo is not sure who made the announcement but he finds himself being hugged and kissed within an inch of his life.
“Don't ever do that again!” Lio warns, pressing kisses to his head and cheeks.
“I didn't mean to.” Leo swears, then he asks. “Was the game canceled?”
Rodri snorts. “They wanted to but we refused. No way we would give them another chance to finish what they started.”
“Really?” Leo looks at their faces. “So, how did it end.”
“Do you even have to ask?” Dibu asks with a snort. “After you basically sacrificed yourself? There was only one way the game would end after that stunt you pulled.” Leo cannot believe what he is hearing. “We've been waiting for you to wake up so you can lift the trophy.”
Leo is very happy, both to see them and to hear that they won, that he did not point out that anyone else could have lifted it.
Instead, he leans back on the bed while the guys narrate how the rest of the game went after Leo was chartered off, and how Dibu brought home the victory with his saves during the penalty shoot out.
“Oh,” Julian interrupts his thoughts. “Some of the Spanish players have been outside, waiting to see you.”
Leo motions for them to be let in and half the Spanish team pour into his room. They are all spotting matching red eyes, red nose and blotchy cheeks.
Pedri makes a bee line for his bed, hugging him gently, while Lamine and Cubarsi hang back awkwardly.
“I'm so sorry.” Pedri hugs him, tears rolling down his cheeks. “They're still looking for the shooter. I know it's only a matter of time before he's caught.”
Leo shares a questioning look with Lio who shakes his head minutely. Clearly, a story has been fed to them about who shot Leo. For once, Leo is curious to find out what the media narrative the media has been feeding the public about the incident.
“Thank you, Pedri.” Leo smiles. “How are you doing?”
“How am I? I didn't get shot is how I'm doing.”
Leo motions for the others to come closer, accepting their hugs. They hang around for a while before they have to leave for the doctor to check on Leo again. His team, of course, refuses to go anywhere or leave Leo alone.
Against medical advice, Leo is temporarily discharged to go receive his medal with his team and lift the trophy.
They had to use a helicopter because the roads were blocked by the sheer number of fans hanging outside the stadium. Inside the arena is just as packed as outside.
Infantino tries to talk to Leo during the medal awarding ceremony but Leo ignores him, his gaze fixed on the beautiful trophy in front of him.
He knows that the team will pay for this. Infantino will definitely find another way to get his revenge but none of that matters to Leo right now.
His team is safe and they are in a celebratory mood. Leo intends to enjoy every single moment of it.