The Greatest of all Time

669  Homecoming Glory

Zachary couldn't contain his excitement after he heard Emily's promise. The prospect of competing in the English Premier League, the most-watched football league in the world, filled him with anticipation.

He felt a deep sense of satisfaction within him as Emily made a few phone calls while Kristin offered her silent support. The path ahead was clear, and he was ready to take the next step in his remarkable journey.

The beautiful Russian waitress returned with their drinks and snacks, her cheeks blushing as she served Zachary. Emily, who had just finished her phone calls, couldn't resist another playful nudge. "Seems like you've made quite an impression," she teased. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Zachary just smiled, choosing not to respond, while Kristin watched from the side with a barely noticeable flicker of emotion in her eyes.

Before long, the conversation lightened, turning to their upcoming move from Turin to Liverpool. They delved into discussions about their future home, speculating what life in Liverpool would bring and sharing the thrill of starting afresh. The private booth resonated with laughter and a strong sense of friendship.

In the middle of their conversation, Kristin suddenly brought up Zachary's return trip to Abidjan, Ivory Coast, scheduled for the next day. "I'm planning to travel tonight so I can arrive before you and organize your schedule in Abidjan," she informed him.

Zachary nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Kristin. I'm grateful for everything you and Emily have done for me since my academy days."

Just then, a thought crossed Zachary's mind, and he leaned forward slightly. "Kristin, can you organize a private chartered plane from Abidjan to Bukavu, DR Congo? I want to travel silently and quietly back to my birthplace to pay homage to my late grandma since I've just won the World Cup. But I don't want the public to know about my trip."

Kristin's eyes narrowed slightly, but she nodded professionally. "Of course, Zachary. I'll make all the arrangements."

Emily, however, frowned. "Zachary, I'm concerned about your safety. DR Congo is often reported on international news as politically unstable, and you defected from there to play for another country. It might not be safe."

Zachary smiled reassuringly. "I understand your concerns, Emily. But the subordinates of Mr. Stein, Kristin's grandfather, are already in Bukavu setting up the foundation for the first football academy in DR Congo. They will take care of me."

Kristin readily supported his claim. "Yes, Emily. My grandfather's people are there, and they can ensure Zachary's safety."

Emily sighed but eventually relented. "Alright, but please travel with your bodyguard."

Zachary nodded. "I will. Kristin, please make those arrangements as well."

The mood lightened once more as they moved on to other topics. Soon, the clock hit 4:00 PM, and the ladies said they had to leave. Emily would travel to England that night to start the final contract negotiations with Liverpool. As for Kristin, she would head to Abidjan to organize Zachary's schedule before his arrival.

Zachary smiled and gave them warm hugs. "Thank you both for everything. Safe travels."

As Emily and Kristin left the private booth, Zachary felt waves of satisfaction welling up like tides within him. He was on the verge of a significant career move, and his future seemed brighter than ever.

Returning to his hotel room, he eagerly picked up his sports manga, ready to lose himself in the world of fiction. The evening passed uneventfully, and Zachary enjoyed a quiet night's sleep.

Eventually, the morning light filtered through the curtains of his hotel room in Moscow, casting a golden glow on Zachary's face. He woke up with a start, the memory of their World Cup victory fresh in his mind.

The sense of accomplishment from winning the World Cup filled him with pride and anticipation for the return journey to Africa. He stretched and yawned, feeling rejuvenated thanks to the system's vitality-enhancing elixirs. It was as if the exhaustion from the grueling World Cup final had never existed.

Zachary quickly showered and donned his Ivorian tracksuit. At precisely 6:00 AM, he retrieved his World Cup medal, Golden Boot, and Golden Ball from the hotel safe. With his awards finally in his hands, he joined his Ivorian teammates for an early breakfast in the hotel dining room.

The atmosphere was a mix of fatigue and exhilaration. Players exchanged stories and laughter over plates filled with eggs, toast, and fresh fruit. The glistening World Cup medals around their necks added something unique to their auras and an extra sparkle to the morning.

As Zachary entered, the players whistled and cheered. Some stood up and jokingly offered to help him carry his awards. Zachary grinned and held his trophies close, like a kid guarding his candy from potential thieves. The room erupted in laughter, and the mood around the team soared.

Coach Hervé Renard stood up, clinking his glass to get their attention. "Gentlemen, I just want to say once more how proud I am of each and every one of you. Your discipline, commitment, and hard work have paid off. Today, we return to your homeland, and now also my homeland as champions. Enjoy this moment, for it is one you will cherish forever."

The team erupted in applause and cheers. Sylvain Gbohouo, the Ivorian goalkeeper, nudged Zachary with a grin. "Ready for the parade, Zachary?"

Zachary was already picturing the jubilant crowds in Abidjan, the endless speeches, and the time-consuming celebrations. Finding a quiet spot to continue reading his sports manga seemed a more attractive option if he could have his way. "Honestly, I find such public events more unnerving than preparing for a World Cup final. But I'll try my best to keep calm and have fun."

Gbohouo chuckled. "These celebrations are what we play for, my friend. Enjoy them."

Zachary smiled. "I'll try."

By 6:45 AM, they had checked out of the hotel and boarded the team bus. As they sped towards Sheremetyevo International Airport, the city of Moscow blurred past the windows, a backdrop to their thoughts of homecoming.

The bus was filled with a mix of excitement and reflection. Each player was lost in their thoughts, cherishing the memories of their historic win.

When they finally arrived at the airport, they were surprised to find a flurry of activity. Fans and media personnel from Russia and the rest of Europe crowded around, eager to catch a glimpse of the World Cup champions.

Zachary and his teammates navigated through the organized chaos with a sense of purpose, their presence commanding the attention of everyone around them.

As they moved through security and airport procedures, Zachary couldn't help but smile at the sight of younger fans calling out his name. One particularly enthusiastic boy caught his eye, waving a shirt and a marker in his direction.

Zachary quickly broke away from the team, bent down, and signed his name on the boy's shirt, earning an ear-to-ear grin from the young fan.

As he rejoined his teammates, Eric Bailly turned back, a playful glint in his eye. "Zachary, you're a superstar even in Putin's land!" he teased.

Zachary chuckled, shaking his head. "Guess I'll need a few more bodyguards soon."

The mood around the team remained hyper as they continued through the terminal, causing quite a stir. By the time they reached the private chartered plane waiting on the tarmac, the airport had practically come to a standstill, all eyes on the triumphant Ivorian squad.

At 7:30 AM, the plane's wheels lifted off the ground, and they were airborne, bound for Ivory Coast. The flight was a serene contrast to the chaotic excitement that awaited them.

Most players succumbed to the exhaustion of their World Cup journey, dozing off in their seats. Others, like Zachary and Zaha, relaxed with movies or music, their minds oscillating between the euphoric memories of the final and the anticipation of their homecoming.

Eventually, the plane finally descended towards Félix-Houphouët-Boigny International Airport around 1:00 PM Abidjan time, and the cabin buzzed with palpable excitement.

Players stirred awake, exchanging eager looks and wide grins. They straightened their orange tracksuits and ran combs through their hair, preparing for the cameras that would soon capture their triumphant return.

The moment the plane touched down smoothly, a cheer erupted from the players. They were home. They were back on African soil. As the cabin door opened, the warm, humid air typical of Abidjan filled the plane, enveloping the team in a familiar embrace.

Coach Hervé Renard and his assistants were the first to disembark, followed by Gervinho, who carried the World Cup trophy high, his smile as bright as the African sun.

Zachary followed, stepping onto the tarmac and into a hero's welcome with his accolades in hand. The airport was lined with military personnel and dignitaries, their faces beaming with pride. Beyond the barriers, the crowd's roar was deafening, a wave of national pride and joy.

Ivory Coast had waited for this moment, and now it had arrived.

A convoy of vehicles awaited them, ready to transport the team through the streets of Abidjan. As they boarded the open-top buses, the players were handed Ivorian flags, which they waved enthusiastically.