Chapter two
Kristian
The helicopter came in to land atop the impressive, glass–fronted McLaren building, the blades buffeting dirt and debris around in the air. Frank Matthews, owner and CEO, was waiting for me with his papaya orange tie flying around in the wind. It was the exact shade of the McLaren logo, and I knew that wasn’t a happy coincidence. I hoped the rest of the team were a little more casual.
Once the pilot gave me the go ahead to disembark, I unclipped my harness and took my ear protection off. A member of Frank’s entourage opened the door for me, and I muttered my thanks as I clambered down from the helicopter.
“Great to have you here.” Frank greeted me with a wide smile and a firm handshake. “Come on in. We can chat in my office and then I’ll give you a tour and introduce you to the rest of the team.”
“Thanks,” I replied, following him and the small group of people down some concrete steps and inside the building. It was a relief walking into the air–conditioned corridor and I took in my surroundings as I was led towards an elevator. It was lavish– all pristine marble floors and muted colours. I caught the eye of a young blonde as we filed into the lift. Judging by the leatherbound clipboard, pen and corporate phone in her hand, I presumed some sort of PA. She cast me a flirtatious smile and I glanced away. It wasn’t my style to shit where I ate, and besides I was more of a brunette man.
“I trust the journey was pleasant?” Frank asked. I hated making small talk and shoved my hands into my suit trouser pockets.
“Yes, thanks.”
We entered the elevator, and a stuffy silence elapsed. I watched the floor numbers as they counted down on the digital display, praying Frank’s office wasn’t in the basement. When the lift pinged, I breathed a sigh of relief, and the doors trundled open. I followed Frank out into yet another pristine corridor. At a frosted glass door, most of the group peeled off and just Frank, his PA and I headed inside.
“Take a seat.” Frank motioned to the leather chair that was on the opposite side of the desk to his own. He sat down, leaning back with a groan as if he were glad to be off his feet. He caught his PA’s attention. “Get us a coffee, would you?”
“Of course, Mr Matthews.”
“Not for me, thanks,” I interjected. “A bottle of water if you’d be so kind.”
The PA scuttled from view and soon it was just me and my new boss. He stared at me for a long moment, and I smiled stiffly.
“The team took the announcement about as well as you predicted,” he said, using his nail to pick something out from between his teeth. “Your reputation precedes you.”
“I’m not surprised,” I replied coolly. “I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to help you win championships and to make money.”
Frank laughed. “Well, you’re already a step ahead of Harold Warner. That snake has been stealing from me for years. I dread to think how long it—”
“Perhaps best to draw a line under it,” I interrupted. “What do you want from me for the remainder of the season?”
“What you said – to win. Rossi and Harrington are a great duo. We had the constructor’s championship well within our sights before this debacle. I’m worried the upset will throw everyone off their game.”
I shrugged. “If the drivers are as talented as you think, this won’t make too much difference to them and let me worry about whipping the engineering side of things into shape. You’re doing well so far, but there’s always room for improvement…” I faltered. “Unless you’d rather me just keep the status quo?”
Frank shook his head. “No, I’ve seen great, great things coming from your team in F2. Do what you need to do.”
I grinned. It was music to my ears. As Frank’s PA returned with a coffee and a bottle of water, I got to my feet. She held the bottle out to me, and I took it, nodding my head in thanks.
“Unless there’s anything else, I think I’d like to get to work,” I said.
Frank leapt up, straightening his suit. “How about that tour? I could—”
“No, thanks. I’d rather get a lay of the land without the pressure of the owner’s eyes on everyone, if that’s alright?”
He leant over the desk to shake my hand. “Of course. Well, that sort of gumption has certainly been missing around here for many years. No talk, just action – I like it. Go, get on with whatever you need to.”
“Thank you,” I replied, smiling politely as the PA eyed me once more. Once I was out in the corridor, alone at last, I sighed. I was a little apprehensive, as I always was whenever it was time to gel with a new team and it sounded like this one had beenhaving an easy time from Harold. That was about to change, and I knew it wasn’t going to win me any popularity contests. I loved success and wasn’t about to let anyone’s feelings stand in my way. This was Formula One – the best of the best. As far as I was concerned, the team would shape up or ship out. There was a long line of folks just waiting to replace them, after all. Drivers included.
I followed the brass signs back towards the lift, before choosing the button labelled ‘workshop’. I’d taken the time to acquaint myself with the details of the McLaren cars after I’d accepted this job and was already looking forward to implementing some changes. I just hoped I wouldn’t get too much push back – not that I was about to take anything lying down, but it would make for a happier work environment if they didn’t make me stamp my authority too firmly.
The lift pinged and I sucked in a breath. The doors rolled open to reveal yet another corridor, but this one had a set of heavy double doors at one end. I could already tell by the smell of oil and rubber that this was where I would find the engineering team. Tools clattered and clanged inside, voices echoing around the marble hallway as I approached though I couldn’t make out what was being said. I pushed inside the garage, immediately locking eyes with one of the mechanics. His brows rose and he wiped off oil–stained hands on his overalls.
“Um, hi?” he said. “Can I help you?”
He didn’t recognise me. I smiled and held out a hand. “I would hope so. I’m Kristian Wright, the new team principal.”
