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... ightly forward before stepping back himself. Everyone knew what was coming.
And it didn't take long.
Forty-six minutes in—Partizan came surging, like a match tossed onto oil. Their front three pressed as if they'd been starved of oxygen for the entire break. High line. Wide spacing. They didn't want possession—they wanted panic.
A long diagonal screamed past Taylor's shoulder. Cross incoming.
Cox didn't wait.
He punched through traffic, knuckles first, sen ...
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