I snorted. “Yeah, sure, whatever. Send McCarthy my regards.”
At the start of lap ten, I was a whole 2.1 seconds ahead of McCarthy, but steadily the Red Bull driver began to catch me up. I was still on my medium compound tyres from the beginning of the race, and they were beginning to break down.
“Box, box. Box, box,” came the instruction and I dived into the pit lane, worn mediums replaced by fresh hard compound tyres. It was painful, but I obediently served my five second penalty, nervous to see where I would emerge in the pack once I was back out on the circuit. It felt like a lifetime, but soon I was on my way once more and rejoined the race in eleventh place. I narrowed my eyes and gritted my teeth. I could still do this, god damn it!
As other driver’s tyres began to wear down, more and more of my competitors began to split off and into the pit lane. By lap twenty–one, McCarthy was forced to give up the ghost and come in for a tyre swap. Sophia was now leading the Grand Prix, but she was due a pit stop herself, and I prayed she could hold on as I made overtake after overtake on my way back to the front of the field. I was in P7 now, up from P11, and still gaining as I made short work of the other drivers.
“Harrington has dropped back to P2 behind McCarthy.”
Damn it! I couldn’t get to her in time. I had to pray that luck was shining on me tonight in Vegas. As soon as the thought hadentered my head, my steering wheel lit up once again.Anothersafety car?
“Safety car is being deployed, debris on track. Pit as soon as possible.”
Though it had only been a handful of laps on these tyres, I’d have been an idiot not to capitalise on a free pit stop under a safety car – a sentiment that was clearly held by the entire grid as car after car came flying into the pit lane for fresh tyres. We emerged back on track, but we’re unable to do more than play follow the leader as we coasted behind the safety car. It was good news for me. The field was bunched up nicely, and sat in fifth as I now was, I had McCarthy at the lead firmly in my sights. Sophia was still sitting in second place, but now she had fresh tyres. I had to hope my teammate would be able to duke it out at the head of the field with McCarthy – or at the very least keep him occupied whilst I fought my way to the front.
The safety car was retired, and we were back to racing. I immediately pushed on hard, pleased with the extra pace my new tyres provided.
“Harrington P1. P1.”
Good job, Sophia. Now hold him back and slow him down until I get there.
I screamed past Tanaka in the Ferrari to take fourth place and my on–board display informed me I’d set the fastest lap time on track. I grinned – oh, it wason!
“Keep up that pace, Rossi,” Carlos instructed. “You’re set to be caught up with McCarthy and Harrington in a lap or two. Push, push, push.”
“Received,” I replied, my voice tight with concentration as I threw my car around a corner.
During lap thirty–five, I heard the announcement I was dreading: “McCarthy retakes P1. Harrington P2.”
Damn it!I fought on harder still, desperate not to allow the Red Bull driver to put any more ground between us. I gritted my teeth, pushing my car to its very limits.
Sophia’s car loomed ahead, and I caught her with ease. My steering wheel flashed to inform me I was within DRS range, and I flew up the outside of her, screaming past to sit in P2 once again. The real fight was just beginning. I set my sights on the back of the Red Bull car ahead.
“Am I on pace to take McCarthy?” I asked.
“Absolutely. Push on and take him down,” Carlos replied.
I grinned. That’s what I liked to hear. My hands tightened around the steering wheel and my car eagerly ate up the distance between myself and McCarthy.
As we approached turn fourteen, with fifteen laps to go, I finally saw DRS activation flash up on my screen. I narrowed my eyes. This was it – time to take back what was rightfully mine and when I spotted a hole, I darted down the inside of McCarthy. As I passed him, I nailed the brakes and watched with glee as the Red Bull driver was denied the opportunity to fight back around the outside of the track. I’d done it! P1 was mine once again! Now I just had to hold onto it.
“Great job, Rossi!” Carlos shouted over the radio. “But you’re going to have to work hard to break the tow. Get McCarthy out of DRS range.”
“Copy,” I gasped, setting yet another fastest lap time. That was a good sign. I just had to keep pushing on.
“0.8 second lead from Red Bull.”
I focused on the track ahead.Come on… You can do this…The laps counted down as we all whizzed around the track at breakneck speed. As I crossed the line, with only ten laps to go, I finally broke away from McCarthy.
“1.6 second lead. Great job. Look after the tyres and hold it steady to the finish.”
I wasn’t about to ease up too much. I kept my eyes on the readings and kept pushing. I knew how quickly things could go wrong, and I wasn’t about to leave anything to chance. I needed this win. I needed Kristian.
“Five laps to go – lead extended to 3.8 seconds.”
Come on, come on, come on…
“Three laps to go – lead extended to 4.5 seconds. You’ve got this race effectively won.”
