Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77816 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77816 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
I motion to Petr who will talk Matthieu through the round.
“Matthieu, we’re going to have you go out as soon as Nash comes in,” Petr says over the comms. “Tires are optimal, so let’s make it count.”
There’s a pause before he responds. “Understood.”
Nash’s first sector time pops up on the monitor—purple. The fastest of the session so far.
“Sector 1 is strong,” I say to Alex, feeling a small thrill of satisfaction.
Alex relays that and adds, “Keep it up. The rear looks stable. No need to push too hard on this one.”
“Copy,” Nash replies, his voice clipped but focused.
The lap unfolds beautifully. He’s hitting every apex, carrying speed through the corners, and the data shows he’s managing the tires well.
“Sector 2—purple again,” I say after activating my mic so it’s my voice Nash hears, and I’m unable to hide my excitement.
“Copy,” he says, and I expected nothing more. He’s still driving at upward of three hundred kilometers per hour and is concentrating hard.
There’s nothing slowing him down and his focus is so on point, he executes almost every turn flawlessly, shaving valuable hundredths of a second off his previous runs.
When Nash crosses the line, his time flashes up on the screen—provisional P1, meaning he is currently in the first position on the grid.
It doesn’t mean he’ll stay there. There’s still ample time on the clock for another driver to put in a faster time.
“Nice work, Nash. That was a strong banker,” I tell him, indicating his initial lap time in this round was his best. I glance over his data and take in the other cars on the track. “That’s a really strong time but Moreno and Hemsworth are running fast. We could keep you out for another try but I think it’s safer to bring you in and not risk the car. Worst case, I’m guessing you might drop to P3.”
“Copy,” he says again, but I hear the satisfaction in his voice. “My nature is to try to stay out and beat my own time, but it’s probably safer to stick with what we’ve got.”
“Agreed,” I say. “Come on in.”
I feel like my chest is about to burst I’m so damn proud of him and, to an equal extent, proud of my engineering team. Alex and I high-five and I even see a grudging smile out of Hendrik. Luca gives me a thumbs-up and we all turn back to the screens.
Nash rolls back into the garage and while I’d dearly love to jump into his arms and give him a hug, that’s not possible. I still have a job to do.
Matthieu takes to the track and my focus shifts immediately, scanning his telemetry. His tires aren’t coming up to temperature as quickly as Nash’s, and his Sector 1 time reflects it—only P5, or fifth position, on the grid.
“He’s off pace in Sector 1,” I say to Petr.
“Matthieu,” Petr says into the comms. “Sector 1 is off the pace. Let’s push a bit harder through Sector 2.”
He doesn’t respond, but his driving shows he’s pushing harder. He throws the car into Turn 3, the sharp left-hander, with more aggression than before. The telemetry feed shows a flicker of improvement—his tire temperatures climb incrementally, but it’s not enough to close the gap to the leaders.
“Careful, Matthieu,” Petr advises. “Clean exit through Turn 5.”
Matthieu threads through the high-speed Turn 6 and barrels into the tricky chicane at Turns 9 and 10, pushing harder than he did on his out-lap. The car snaps slightly as he exits the chicane, but he catches it with a flick of the steering wheel. I hold my breath as his Sector 2 split flashes onto the monitor.
“Improved, but still not where we need to be,” I say, leaning closer to the screen. He’s P5 in Sector 2—respectable, but not enough to challenge for a better starting position.
“Matthieu,” Petr says again, his tone clipped but calm. “You’re P5 in Sector 2. Let’s keep it clean in Sector 3. Attack the apex at Turn 13 for a strong finish.”
Matthieu’s car dives into the high-speed Turn 11 but he brakes later than I’d like, the tires squirming slightly under the strain. The telemetry shows a minor lockup, but he recovers quickly.
“Easy,” I murmur under my breath, willing him to find the balance between aggression and control.
Matthieu powers through the final corners, threading the needle through Turn 14 with precision. The tension along pit wall is palpable as his car roars down the main straight, the timing screen updating in real time.
When he crosses the line, his final position flashes up and he unfortunately dropped to P6. It’s respectable, but I’m already bracing for him to lay the blame game.
I scan his telemetry, analyzing where he lost time, and the lockup seems to be the issue. That has to do with timing, and it will be something we’ll have to address with him in debrief. I’m already dreading it.