"The heart," Mrs. Baker said, tapping the plastic muscle. "It is an engine. It relies on pressure. Systole. Diastole. Pump. Relax. Pump. Relax."

Alex sat at the back. He was spinning a pen between his fingers.

Pump. Relax.

That was football. You press. You drop back. You attack. You defend.

"Mr. Finch," Mrs. Baker asked.

"Can you tell me what happens if the valves do not close tightly?"

Alex looked up. He thought about the Arsenal defense.

"Backflow, Miss," Alex said. "The blood goes the wrong way. The pressure drops. The engine stalls."

"Correct," Mrs. Baker smiled. "Regurgitation. A very messy business. Try not to let it happen to your grades."

The bell rang. It was lunch time.

The cafeteria was chaotic. Students were shouting, throwing chips, and laughing.

But at the "Football Table," it was silent.

Mark, Jude, and Antoine were huddled around a phone.

"The draw is happening," Mark whispered. He was biting his nails. "Champions League Quarter Finals."

Alex sat down. "Who do we want?"

"Someone easy," Jude said. "Is there a team from Antarctica? I want to play penguins."

"There are no easy teams left," Antoine said seriously. "Only monsters."

On the small screen, a man in a suit reached into a glass bowl. He pulled out a small ball. He unscrewed it.

He showed the paper.

ARSENAL.

"Okay," Mark said. "That is us. Now... who do we die against?"

The man reached into the bowl again. He swirled the balls around. The tension at the table was thick enough to cut with a plastic knife.

He pulled out a ball.

He opened it.

BAYERN MUNICH.

Silence.

Jude dropped his sandwich.

"The Germans," Antoine whispered.

"The Machine," Mark said.

"Harry," Alex whispered.

Harry Kane. The England Captain. The man Alex had assisted just last week at Wembley. Now, he was coming to the Emirates wearing a red shirt, but not the Arsenal red.

"He is coming home," Jude said. "But he is coming to kill us."

"And they have Musiala," Antoine added. "Jamal Musiala. The Snake. He dribbles through keyholes."

Mark stood up. He looked determined.

"Fine!" Mark yelled. The whole cafeteria looked at him. "BRING ON THE SAUSAGES! WE WILL EAT THEM FOR BREAKFAST!"

"Sit down, Mark," Alex said. "You are scaring the Year 7s."

School finished. Alex walked out to the car park.

He was expecting something crazy from Mark. A tank. A helicopter. A submarine.

But the car park was empty.

Then, he heard it.

Accordion music. Loud, oompah-pah music.

A car drove around the corner. It was a vintage BMW.

Mark was driving.

He was wearing... Lederhosen. Leather shorts with suspenders. A checkered shirt. And a green hat with a feather in it.

He was holding a giant pretzel in one hand and the steering wheel in the other.

"GUTEN TAG!" Mark screamed. "GET IN THE CAR, HERR PROFESSOR!"

Alex covered his face. "Mark. Why?"

"I am infiltrating the enemy culture!" Mark shouted. "I am thinking like a Bavarian! I am eating their carbohydrates! It is psychological warfare!"

Alex climbed into the car. "You look like a lost yodeler."

"I am a spy!" Mark insisted. "Do you want some pretzel? It is very dry."

"No thanks," Alex said. "Just drive. Before someone takes a photo."

The training ground was serious.

Steve, the manager, did not look happy. He had watched the tapes of Bayern Munich.

"They are efficient," Steve said to the team. "They do not waste energy. They wait for you to make a mistake. And then..."

He snapped his fingers.

"Punishment."

He looked at Alex.

"Professor. You know Harry Kane. You played with him for England."

"Yes, Boss."

"He drops deep," Steve said. "He acts like a playmaker. He pulls the defenders out of position. Then the wingers run into the space."

Steve pointed to the screen. It showed Jamal Musiala gliding past three defenders.

"And this kid," Steve said. "Musiala. He does not run. He flows. He is like liquid. If you try to tackle him, he is already gone."

"So how do we stop them?" Mark asked.

"We cut the supply," Steve said. "We stop the heart. We create... backflow."

Alex smiled. Biology class.

"Regurgitation," Alex whispered.

"Exactly," Steve said. "Make them choke on their own pressure."

Tuesday night. The Emirates Stadium.

It was the Quarter Final. The lights were blinding. The atmosphere was electric.

The Bayern fans were in the away corner. They were loud. They had drums. They had flags. They were a Red Sea.

Alex stood in the tunnel.

Harry Kane was standing next to him. He was wearing the white away kit of Bayern. He looked dangerous.

"Hello, Professor," Harry said. He was not smiling.

"Captain," Alex nodded.

"No assists for me today," Harry said. "Today, I am the villain."

"I know," Alex said. "But villains always lose in the end."

Harry chuckled. "Not in Germany."

Behind Harry stood Jamal Musiala. He was young, skinny, and looked very relaxed. He was chewing gum.

"Nice shorts," Musiala said to Mark.

"THANK YOU!" Mark yelled. "I HAVE LEDERHOSEN AT HOME!"

Musiala looked confused.

The players walked out. The Champions League anthem played. It sent shivers down Alex spine.

The whistle blew.

Bayern Munich did not wait. They attacked.

They were heavy. Strong. Fast.

Kimmich controlled the midfield. Goretzka was a tank. Davies was a sprinter on the wing.

In the tenth minute, Musiala got the ball.

He ran at Alex.

Alex lowered his center of gravity. He watched the ball.

Musiala dropped his shoulder left. Alex moved left.

Musiala was already going right.

It was like magic. He didn't just dribble; he vanished and reappeared.

Musiala passed to Kane.

Kane was twenty yards out.

"BLOCK HIM!" Steve screamed from the sideline.

But Kane did not need space. He needed half an inch.

He shot.

It was a laser. Low. Hard. Into the bottom corner.

Goal.

One zero. Bayern.

Harry Kane ran to the corner. He did his jump and punch celebration. The Bayern fans roared.

"He is inevitable," Jude sighed. "He scores in his sleep."

Alex picked up the ball. "Wake up," he told the team. "It is just one valve. Fix the pressure."

Arsenal restarted.

They tried to play their rhythm. Tick. Tock.

But Bayern was physical. They bumped. They shoved.

Mark tried to run down the wing. Alphonso Davies was there. Davies was fast. Maybe faster than Mark.

"HE IS CHEATING!" Mark yelled. "HE HAS A MOTOR IN HIS LEGS!"

"Run faster, Speed!" Alex shouted.

"I AM TRYING!"

Half time approached. Arsenal was losing 1-0.

They needed a spark.

Alex had the ball in the center circle.

He looked at the Bayern defense. Upamecano and Kim Min-jae. They were giants.

But giants have a weakness. They are heavy.

Alex saw Antoine making a run. Not a straight run. A curved run. Like a blood cell moving through a vein.

Alex did not pass. He drove forward.

Goretzka came to tackle him. Goretzka was huge.

Alex used the "La Pausa". He stopped. He waited.

Goretzka flew past him.

Alex accelerated.

He was at the edge of the box.

Musiala came back to defend. The Dancer vs The Professor.

Musiala tried to steal the ball.

Alex did a "Matthews Feint". He leaned one way, then pushed the ball the other with the outside of his foot.

He was past Musiala.

He was in the box.

Kane was shouting at his defenders. "CLOSE HIM DOWN!"

Alex saw Mark. Mark was marked by Davies.

Alex saw Jude. Marked by Kimmich.

He saw the goal. Neuer was the goalkeeper. The Wall.

Alex knew he couldn't beat Neuer with power. Neuer was too big.

He had to use biology.

He had to aim for the heart. The center.

He pretended to shoot to the corner. Neuer shifted his weight.

Alex chipped the ball.

Softly. Gently.

Right down the middle.

Neuer had moved to the right. He tried to reach back.

But the ball floated. It was a Panenka in open play.

It floated over the giant goalkeeper.

It dropped into the net.

Goal.

One one.

The Emirates exploded.

Alex stood there. He tapped his chest.

Pump. Relax.

"THE HEARTBEAT!" Jude screamed, jumping on Alex back. "YOU STOPPED THEIR HEART!"

Halftime. One one.

The dressing room was buzzing.

"We can beat them," Steve said. "They are strong, but they are rigid. If we flow, they break."

He looked at Mark.

"Speed. Davies is fast. But he attacks. When he goes forward... there is space behind him. A vacuum."

"I love vacuums!" Mark said. "I will fill it!"

Second half.

The game became a shootout.

Musiala hit the post.

Saka forced a save from Neuer.

Kane headed a ball just over the bar.

It was end to end. Systole. Diastole.

Seventy fifth minute.

Bayern had a corner.

They sent the big men forward.

Kimmich crossed it.

Kane jumped. He won the header.

But Raya saved it! A miraculous reflex save.

The ball bounced out to Alex.

"GO!" Alex roared.

Counter attack.

The Bayern defenders were still in the Arsenal box.

Davies was sprinting back.

Alex played a long ball. A diagonal pass.

Into the vacuum. The space behind Davies.

Mark was there.

"BEEP BEEP!" Mark screamed.

He ran.

He was free.

Neuer came rushing out of his goal. He was a sweeper keeper. He was thirty yards out.

Mark saw him coming.

Mark did not shoot. He did not dribble.

He did something crazy.

He headed the ball while it was bouncing. He headed it past Neuer.

Then he ran around the keeper.

The goal was empty.

Mark ran the ball into the net. He literally ran into the net with the ball.

Goal.

Two one. Arsenal.

Mark got tangled in the net. He looked like a fish caught in a trawler.

"HELP!" Mark yelled. "I AM CAUGHT! BUT I SCORED!"

Alex ran over and untangled him.

"You are a genius, Speed," Alex laughed.

"I am a Bavarian Spy!" Mark shouted. "The pretzel gave me power!"

The last ten minutes were terrifying.

Bayern threw everything at them. Kane shot from everywhere. Musiala danced.

But the Arsenal defense held. They were a wall. A non-return valve.

The final whistle blew.

Arsenal 2. Bayern Munich 1.

They had won the first leg.

Alex fell to the grass. He was exhausted.

Harry Kane walked over. He looked disappointed, but professional.

He offered a hand to Alex.

"Good game, Professor," Harry said. "You stopped the machine."

"Only for tonight," Alex said. "We have to come to Munich next week."

"Yes," Harry said. His eyes were cold. "The Allianz Arena is different. We will see you there."

Harry walked away.

Milo was waiting in the tunnel.

He was wearing... a doctor's coat and a stethoscope.

"THE SURGEON!" Milo shouted. "WE OPERATED ON THEM! ALEX! THE CHIP! I AM SELLING STETHOSCOPES! LISTEN TO THE SOUND OF VICTORY!"

"Milo, where did you get a stethoscope?" Alex asked.

"I BORROWED IT FROM THE SCHOOL NURSE!" Milo grinned. "SHE DOES NOT KNOW YET!"

Alex walked into the dressing room.

He checked his phone.

A text from Mrs. Baker, the biology teacher.

"I saw the match. Your understanding of pressure systems was adequate. However, your heart rate must have been dangerous. Please drink water. Also, don't forget the dissection lab tomorrow. We are doing frogs."

Alex groaned. Frogs.

"What is wrong?" Mark asked. He was still wearing one shin pad.

"Frogs," Alex said. "Tomorrow."

"I hate frogs," Mark said. "They jump too much. It makes me jealous."

Alex laughed.

He looked around the room.

They had beaten the German champions.

They had beaten the England captain.

But the job was only half done.

Munich was waiting. The Allianz Arena was waiting.

And Harry Kane did not like to lose twice.

"Let's go home," Alex said. "I need to study amphibian anatomy."

"Can we stop for pretzels?" Mark asked.

"No more pretzels, Mark."

"Schnitzel?"

"No."

"McDonalds?"

"Fine."

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