Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, do when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

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Chapter 22
The Circuit de Catalunya, Barcelona, Spain, Race day.
I woke up to something that no one was expecting. Rain. Of all the shitty luck. It was bad enough that Beth qualified in fifth place and I qualified so far back in the field it wasn’t even funny. Nineteenth place thanks to a blown rear tyre. I swear if I didn’t know better, I would swear someone was out to get me. Sadly, it was nothing more than old fashioned bad luck. Every driver has a run of it every now and then. Most just do their best to keep their car out of the gravel and off the grass. It is all you can do really.

“Do you think they’ll postpone the race Bobbie?” Kelly asked from the bathroom doorway. I smiled as I looked over at my shoulder at her. “What’s with that look?”

“Just admiring the view.” I turned back to the window and sighed. “As for them postponing the race. That is anyone’s call at this point. I doubt it though.”

“Why do you say that?” Kelly asked as she wondered up behind me to wrap her arms around my waste. “You would think that with as slick as that track is getting, they would hold off at least until later in the day.”

“I doubt it. We’ll change out the slicks for groves and go racing anyway. Though I think by the time we get ready to drop the green the track will be dry.” I was already looking towards the western sky. I could tell that the clouds and rain would break long before race time. “No, my worry isn’t the rain or the track love.”

“Then what has you so lost in thought?” Kelly asked gently in my ear.

“Something is off Kelly. What that is I don’t know. I just know that something is off with me. I shouldn’t have to be fighting my way through the pack. Not like I’m today. I should be out there in front leading.” I bitched. “I can feel that cold bastard breathing down my neck again Kelly.”

“Bobbie, love, you need to relax and breath.” Kelly pulled me in tight to her chest. “I know that you can do this. You belong behind the wheel of a race car. They came to you remember? It wasn’t the other way around.”

Sighing I lean back into Kelly’s arms. “Kelly, it is more than just a feeling. I know that something is off. Whatever is wrong I know that it is going to get me, or Beth hurt today. Out there right now on that track is something that is going to try and kill me. Just don’t ask me how I know.”

“Don’t give me that shit Bobbie. We both know there is nothing out there on that track that can touch you. It was like Chief Hailee said. Not even the Bounty Hunter can touch you when you get behind the wheel of a car.” Kelly whispered softly. “Just do what you do best, babe. Get out there and drive like hell. Life and fate will take care of the rest.”

I just sighed and turned in her arms. I gave the woman that I love a toe curling kiss. “I need to get ready.”

An hour later found us landing in the infield of the circuit. I got a real kick out of the trip to the track today. This was the first time that I got to ride in one of the helicopters. I know that Kelly and Tony weren’t happy that they had to take the car over to the track, but they understood. The short flight from the hotel was part of the publicity for our sponsors. I know that Beth didn’t like the flight for some reason. I know that she has no problems flying normally.

“Beth, what happened with you during that flight? You’ve never been a white knuckle flyer before. Hell, you’ve logged in as many hours flying as I have.”

“Bobbie, if we never have to ride in a helicopter again. I’m calling in sick.” Beth shivered. “I can handle airplanes, but all that glass was just too much for me.”

When Beth said ‘all that glass’ I knew exactly what she was getting at. Beth can climb into a F1 and drive it to the edge with no problem. She can face down just about any jackass in racing leathers. But the second she gets near any place higher than the fourth floor she pisses her panties. Beth has a severe case of Acrophobia. She’s suffered from it for as long as I can remember.

“Sure, Beth no problem. I think I’ll have a talk with our friendly Coordinator. I’ll explain things to him so that he never again puts you on a helicopter.” I told her as I popped my knuckles. “And if I have to, I’ll leave a few speed nots on his forehead to get my point across.”

Beth took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Forget about it Bobbie. We both do shit that we don’t like. It’s all part of the life.”

“I know that sis, but we don’t have to bend over for every two-bit request. Remember they need us more than we need them.” I told her as I hugged my sister.

“Thanks for the hug, Bobbie.” She said as she returned hug. When she pulled back, she smiled and looked out at the track. “Have you figured out how you’re going to work your way through the pack yet?”

I shook my head no. I laid out one of Chief Hailee’s newest tricks for our team. A color-coded map. “I won’t know until I get out there today, Beth. That track is going to be greener than hell. I figure between the rain and the track drying equipment all the rubber that was built up over the past few days will be gone. I doubt if anybody is going to be making aggressive moves out there from the start. Not even with the soft rubber tyres.”

“That is not good. Not if I got to hold off the rest of the field on my own.” Beth pointed out. “I’m good at blocking but not that good.”

“Don’t worry about holding off the pack, Beth. Just run your race the way you want. This is one time that we’re going to be working on our own. Team work is out the fucking door today.” I never took my eyes off the map as I traced the course with my finger. “The DSR zones are out of the question. They’re going to be too predictable. They’ll be looking for me to pass there.”

“No, you need to use those zones, Bobbie.” When I went to correct Beth, she put her finger on the first DSR zone. “No, Bobbie listen to me. These zones will be your only secure passing zones. Sure, you can use the turns for one or two passes, but after that, the rest of the field will be onto you. The DRS zones will allow you to pass two or three at a time. Then there’s the straightaways. The easiest point for passing the rest of the field will be on the pit row straightaway.”

“Beth, that straightaway is going to be a fucking traffic jam. Everybody and their brother-in-law is going to be using that straightaway to pass.” I bitched.

“Damn it, Bobbie. THINK!” Beth traced the length of the pit row straightaway. “This is one of widest straightaways on the circuit. You can go full throttle the entire time. As for taking turn one. It’s no worse than Old Miller’s Corner back home.”

I thought about the road and turn that Beth was talking about. Old Miller’s Road was a fifteen mile long, two lain, death trap. It was filled with seven S-curves, two ninety-degree hairpins, three thousand meter straightaways, and one extremely wicked one-eighty down-hill corner with no curb or outside railing. It was one of the few roads that was still used by moonshiners to lose the cops back home. Not to mention certain rat-racers and drug runners. The main reason the road was used by those people, was Old Miller’s Corner. The aforementioned one-eighty down-hill corner. More than a few people have lost their lives on that corner. Turn one was nowhere near as sharp and didn’t have the downhill pitch.

“You think that I can sideslip that turn? I mean it is going to be tight if there is more than one car on turn besides me.” I pointed out.

“Bobbie by the time we get to that point the other drivers are going to be to busy trying to keep up with the changing track conditions. We both already know how the track changes better than the others.” I wanted to contradict Beth, but she was already laying out what we already knew. “For the first seven to eight laps it’ll feel like everybody is driving on marbles out there, especially in the turns. They’ll have to break harder than normal. At least for the first half of the race.”

“How you figure that?” I really wanted to know what she was getting at. Then it hit me. If the other drivers are over-breaking just to get around the track, then the chances for understeering go through the roof. “Oh shit. How many yellow flags is this going to bring out before the track comes to us?”

“I figure some where around five to seven. More than enough for you to gain another three to four positions. If not more.” Beth just smirked as I understood where she was going with her analyses of the race conditions. “If I don’t have to worry about holding off the field like you just suggested. Then I can stretch the other lead drivers out over half the circuit.”

I thought about what Beth was proposing. Her whole strategy was a way for me to get from the back of the pack to the front. The only hitch to her plan was the need for a spotter. One that knew the track and how it would change throughout the course of the race better than any other driver. I knew that neither mom, dad, or Joey were up for this type calling today. Neither was Chief Hailee and Marks. “Do you think Kathy and the Coach can handle this?”

“Bobbie, those two can out call and spot our parents, and the Chiefs. It’s time to take the gloves off. We’ve been playing nice. We’ve raced fair and square. We’ve even given and shown respect, they haven’t earned. And it hasn’t gotten us any respect in return out of some of these fucking drivers.” I could tell that Beth was beyond pissed. She knew that sooner or later we would have to get down and dirty with certain drivers. I just wasn’t sure that we were at that point.

My mind was changed with just seven words. “Today we send you American whores home.”

I turned to see who just pissed in my Wheaties this morning. Of all the drivers currently on the circuit it had be this fuck-nut. “Get the fuck out of my garage Castro. That is unless you want me to rearrange your face.”

“Please, senorita, I would welcome the chance to teach you some manners. But I am a gentleman and do not hit women. Regardless of their questionable honor.” The smug bastard was just standing there smirking as if he was untouchable. The sad part was he was right. To a point anyway.

I didn’t bother with being polite. I got right up in his face. “You and me are going to be at the ass end of the pack Castro. Let’s settle our differences out there. Driver against driver. One on one. You fucking game?”

“Oh, I so want that, senorita. Sadly, that will not be the case. You see I won’t be the one you face today. That honor belongs to Author Kent. He will not be the gentleman that I or any of the others have been with you. Do yourself a favor, senorita. Drop out now and go home where you belong.” The arrogant bastard smirked.

I started to chuckle. I knew exactly what Castro’s team owners had pulled. In a way it was the highest of honors. “You know something Castro, you’re nothing more than a fucking yellow bellied back stabbing coward. As much as I would love to put your ass into the wall you just don’t have the guts to face me like a real man. Instead you and your team have decided to bring a ringer. All because your sorry excuse for an ass couldn’t handle the challenge.”

“What do you mean, bitch?” Castor was pissed now. He was actually getting up in my face. “I can handle any challenge.”

“Why I’m talking about me and my sister. We’re the ones that are putting you sorry excuses for drivers in your places. We’re out there showing the world that you and your butt buddies are nothing more than a bunch of overindulged whinny little bitches.” I was the one to smirk this time. I knew that Castro couldn’t handle the truth. Even if I painted a picture for him.

“I’ll see your ass on the track puta! Then we’ll see who the coward is. And when I cross the finish line and you don’t. You and your sister take your asses home. Where you fucking belong.” Castro went to spit in my face, but Tony stepped between us. I could tell by Tony’s stance that he was just itching to put Castro down hard.

“No, Tony don’t. The fuck wad isn’t worth it.” I placed my hand on his shoulder and gave Castro a flat look. “Beat it Castro, before my pit crew takes matters into their own hands. They don’t play nice with others.”

Me and the rest of the team watched as Castro stormed out of our garage area. I knew exactly who he was going to see. I turned to Chief Hailee. “Chief do you think that asshole is stupid enough to take matters into his own hands on the track?”

“Bobbie, when we strap you in, don’t fuck with how tight we make the harness. If Castro can’t get back in his car that psycho Author Kent will. The man has no problems with playing dirty.” I gave the old Crew Chief a strange look. “Bobbie, we found out about the change last night. Kent has more than fifteen complaints for unsportsman like conduct. He doesn’t care who he puts into the wall.”

“So I’m facing one of two type out there. An out of control moron or a hired pyscho. Both of which are out to put me in the wall or hospital. To top that off I have to deal with a wet fucking track. Just great. Any more good fucking news?” I snarked.

“Other than the track is past the point of being green. It is wetter than a catfish just pulled from the Little Sandy.” I could tell by the tone of Chief Hailee’s voice that there was something else going on. I waited for the other shoes to drop. When it did, I wished that I was racing somewhere else. “There is also no chance of the track coming back to race conditions before half way through. Even with the track drying equipment everyone is going to be running their wet weather tyres, the intermediate rain tyres. Good for traction, bad for your style of driving.”

“So what? Just put the normal slicks on and I’ll race with those.” I figure that I can still run my own race with the slicks while everyone else runs the rain tyres.

“No, can do, Bobbie. There is standing water everywhere on that track. The Marshals are already double checking to ensure that everybody is at least run their intermediate wet weather tyres. As much as I would love to give you, your slicks that ain’t happening.” I could tell Chief Hailee hated having to go by the Marshals’ orders for rain tyres. “The best we can do is give you the intermediate tyres.”

“Damn. When is Formula One going to upgrade to the NASCAR Air Titan track-drying equipment?” I bitched as I looked out at the still damp track.

“The day that Hell freezes over, Miss McGuire.” I turned to see who was intruding on my pit area this time and smiled. “How you doing Bobbie?”

“Not bad Jack. When did you guys get in?” I asked as I greeted the other five people with Slow Jack. “Hi Stephany, you can find Joey in the trailer with my folks. Sam, Jim, nice to see you guys again. How’s the track back home coming? Are these young ladies your girlfriends? Bobbie McGuire, nice to meet you both.”

Sam chuckled. “Bobbie, I would like you to meet Alison Garver. My fiancée.”

“And this is Rebecka Stone. My fiancée.” Jim answered me with a smile.

“Pleasure to meet you ladies. I’m so happy that you all could come.” I held out my hand to the two new comers with a smile. As they shook my hand, I gave the guys a smile. “I’ll bet you a thousand dollars you’re all wondering why I’ve flown you half way around the world? Well, it’s not just so you can watch me stomp the competition. I have some good news for three of you.”

“Bobbie what are you up to?” Jack was giving me the stink eye for some reason.

“Well, it’s kind of like this. You know who my sponsors are right?” I knew that they did. I mean it was all over the news back home. “Well, it seems that they’re looking for a pair of drivers and a Crew Chief.”

“What they firing you and Beth?” Sam jumped to the conclusion that I wanted. “Damn! Talk about getting stupid. We knew you were getting flack from the other F-one drivers, but this is bullshit.”

“No shit! If they were in front of me right now, I’ll tell them exactly what I think of their monumental fuckup!” Jim just spilt the juice he was holding before making that very endearing comment. I just chuckled to myself.

I don’t think I have ever seen Jim without a dip in his mouth. The young man was addicted to snuff, especially his favorite, Copenhagen. I swear Jim goes through at least two tins a week if not more. As far as bad habits go, this is one that I can overlook. There are lot more that I can find fault with, that are a lot worse.

“I never thought I would live to see the day that Hailee, or Marks would be fired. If they think that I can do half the job they can they can go piss up a rope.” Slow Jack spat out before reaching for his bubblegum.

“Glad to hear that you’re on my side guys.” I chuckled. “But neither Beth or me are getting fired. The same goes for our Crew Chiefs.”

Slow Jack opened his pouch and popped a wad of gum into his mouth. “Okay, if they’re not replacing you guys. Then why are they looking for two drivers and a Crew Chief?”

“Ever heard of this little thing call NASCAR?” I asked sweetly. You could have heard pin drop. I just stood there smiling as Jack Stone, Sam Hurley, and James ‘Jim’ Fields stared at me in stunned silence. “Um… I think I just broke them.”

Slow Jack was the first to come out his disbelief as my pit crew chuckled. “Miss McGuire, this had better not be a fucking joke.”

“Jake, I assure you that this is no joke. Mercedes-Benz is looking for two drivers and a Crew Chief for their newest racing adventure. Namely NASCAR.” I gave the man a straight faced answer. I knew that he was leery of Greeks baring gifts. “This is a legitimate offer, Jack. I was approached a few weeks ago about finding the needed drivers and Crew Chief by my sponsors.”

“Why aren’t you making the jump to NASCAR Bobbie? Why would you even suggest us? After all that is where you belong.” Sam figured that they needed a little more background.

Jim wasn’t far behind him with his own doubts. “No kidding. You got all the license to make the transition easily enough. Hell, everybody has all heard about your unofficial track record on the Lady in Black. We know that you’re not afraid.”

I sighed as I knew that my answer was going to either piss them off or they’ll understand. It was a chance that I’ll have to take. “I can’t make the jump to NASCAR guys. AS much as I would love to, I can’t. I just can’t do that to the fan base that Beth and me, have built up in Formula One.”

“Wait a minute. You mean to tell us that your fan base is big enough that it would piss off that many people? Just because you want to drive a Stock Car?” Jim asked in disbelief. “Come on, Bobbie. That has to be a joke. No body builds up that big of a fans base that fucking fast.”

“I’m not fucking joking, Jim. I’m tell you the truth. Just ask Beth.” I said.

“She isn’t joking guys. We’re the fastest rising stars in the sport right now. For several reasons but the first two are the ones that count the most. First, we’re winning. Second, we’re girls. Two things that appeals to young women everywhere in the world. If you doubt us, I’ll show our fan mail. The amount is fucking nuts.” I’m so glad that Beth came to my rescue on this.

We were interrupted by the arrival of Karl Benz, Gottlieb Daimler, Wilhelm Maybach, and Emil Jellinek. I was slightly surprised by the four men being here without their wives. I knew that their wives were here and had been for the last week. Kelly and I have been ducking since they found about our engagement. Thank the good Lord above, these men got the hint to not fuck with out wedding. It’s just their wives that won’t back the fuck off for some reason. Though I think with Kelly’s mom meeting us in Monaco that will come to an end.

“Ah there are our girls. Bobbie, have you given our newest drivers the good news yet?” Karl Benz started off with before the others could.

“Yes, sir I have. They still don’t believe that it is true for some reason. Maybe you can convince them sir?” I asked him politely.

“I think that your friends doubt that our offer is for real, Bobbie. After all our company has never entered a car in the Stock Car field. This will be our first time competing in NASCAR. Until Toyota broke the International barrier it just wasn’t worth our time or money to even try.” Emil Jellinek started the explanation for Jack and the others. I knew that he could sweet talk a snake out of his scales so I wasn’t worried that the guys would walk away.

I want to stand around and listen to the deal that my sponsors were working with the Darlington Knight, but I had more pressing business at hand. Namely, I had to get ready for Driver Introductions, and the race. “Gentlemen, as much as I would love to stay and talk with you all I must leave. I have to finish getting ready for my day. Jack if you have any questions talk to Chief Hailee or Marks. Sam, Jim, talk with my mom and dad if you have questions. Good luck guys.”

Before anyone could say another word Beth and I headed for the team trailer. Once inside Beth ran mom, dad, and Joey out. I grabbed my Nomex gear, Leathers, and headed for my section of the trailer while Beth headed for hers. After stripping down and redressing in my race gear I put in my earbuds and hit play on my iPod. Once the music began to play, I let the world fall away. That was how I spent the next two hours until Joey came to get me for Driver Introductions.

I hate this part of the Race Day Festivities. I don’t mind spending time with the fans afterwards. It’s just that I figure if the fans don’t know who is racing by now then they don’t care. Maybe it’s me and it might be wrong, but all I want to do on Race Day is race. It takes me more and more time to get into the right mind set for each race for some reason. I spent some time with my fans after Introductions before heading back to the trailer. I still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. I needed to get my headspace right if I was going to pull off Beth’s plan.

Joey has to come get me for the National Anthem and call to cars. As I stand there listening to the music, I want to just shut everything out. I can almost feel the boney grip of that stone cold bastard on my shoulder. I can smell his cold stale breath on the back of my neck. I hear his sickening sweet words of welcome. I can almost see his face with broad tooth filled grin of his. He’s out there somewhere on the track today. The Devil’s Bounty Hunter has come for his due. Today someone is going to die and there is nothing that we poor mortals can do to change that.

When I’m finally allowed to climb into my car Danny and Chief Hailee both double check my straps. Before I slip my earbuds in Chief Hailee stops me. “Where’s your head at Bobbie? You got that look in your eye. What’s going on?”

I couldn’t lie to the man. “HE’s out there Chief. Waiting. Someone isn’t going home today. Can’t you feel it?”

Chief Hailee gave me a hard look then placed his hand on my shoulder. “Get your head in the game. There is no supernatural boogieman out there. This is a nothing more than another race, just like all the others.”

I know that Chief Hailee is trying to calm my nerves. That he thinks I’m spooked. That I’m imagining shit. The problem is I’m not nervous. I’m not spooked. I’m definitely not imagining shit. You see when you’re a Childhood Leukemia survivor you can tell when Death is around. I saw one too many kids my age never make it to their eighteenth birthday. Fuck there were a few that never saw their twelfth birthday. So, fuck yes, I know what the presence of Death feels like.

I look up at Chief Hailee. “Sure, Chief I get it. Don’t worry I got my head in the fucking game. Now shut up, hand me my helmet and fire up the fucking engine. I got a race to win, somehow.”

Chief Hailee just sighed and did as I asked. With gloves and helmet in place I hit the play button on my music. As the opening notes to ‘No Surrender’ by Judas Priest fill my ears the speed demon that is my engine comes to life once more. Up and down pit row starters are rushing to get out of the way. I feel the hate come once more. With the hate comes a calm that I know only when pushing myself to the edge. Today I will beat these rat bastards at their own game. These men want me either off the circuit or dead. Castro and his cronies have been doing everything they can to force me out of the Formula One world. Time to make them pay.

We roll out for the warmup and I notice that the lead cars are already taking the corners with more caution than normal. I feel the smile creep across my face. With each turn the track revels more and more of its nastiness to me. I let my ass end slide a little in each corner feeling out where the apex points are now. Oh yes, the track has changed. It may be laid out same as always, but the power points have changed. I know by the time we round turn sixteen that Beth had nailed the track down perfectly. She was definitely living up to our nickname as the Ice Queens. By the time we made our second trip around the track I knew where I would be making every pass and block through the race.

As we lined up for the start I was greeted by a new tune on my iPod. Another Judas Priest song ‘Never the Heroes’ filled my earbuds and soul. When the lights flashed, I dropped the harmer and powered my way past the eighteenth through fifteenth placed cars. I know that I was pushing it but didn’t care. If these bastards won’t show me the respect that I have earned. Then I’ll fucking take it, or put their asses in the wall. I was way past the point of caring anymore. The field hits turn 1 and start breaking hard. I don’t. I slide into a partial drift and take the corner at close to half power. I know that I just scared the crap out of two drivers pulling that stunt but don’t care. I need to get to the front and their ALL in MY way.

For the next seven laps I play nice and just hold my position. I wait and bide my time. Lap 8, turn 9 comes up and I drop the hammer again. I know that the uphill turn will force most drivers to break hard again. Again, I hit the turn in a power slide. I spot my first asshole close to the apex of turn 9. Castro wanted to play the big bad thug with me in the pits. A place where his size would have been the deciding factor in a fight. Out here it’s not size that matters. It’s skill. Something that I have in spades. While he was learning to drive on Formula One race courses, I was back home rat racing on the backwoods roads of America.

The place where NASCAR got its start. Bootleggers out running the local cops and FBI. A place where the roads have more twists and turns than a snake with a hangover. Places like West Virginia where mountain roads have hairpin turns with no guardrail. South Carolina where a straightaway on a road has more ups and downs than a roller-coaster. Louisiana where the roads just end at a swamp then pickup on the other side. Georgia where the roads go from blacktop to red clay for no reason. These are the places that I learn to race on. The other drivers think that I have no place out with them because I’m first a woman, second an American.

Today they will learn the error of their thinking. Even if one of them has to die to drive that point home. I can smell the foul stench of brimstone that precedes the Devil’s Bounty Hunter now. I can hear the hoofbeats of his Nightmare steed over the driving beat of my music. I can feel the boney fingers of his hand reaching out for some poor soul even now as we power down the back straightaway heading for turn 10. I check my rearview mirror. I’m slightly surprised to see Castro is still there.

We hit turn 10 and I’m forced to break for the turn thanks to the car in front of me. The asshole couldn’t make the turn and slid off into the gravel. Fuck the Marshals are going to through a yellow flag. I just know it. Yup there it is. My radio crackles to life.

“Back it down Bobbie. We got a full track yellow. Hurts and Carmicle both plowed in on turn thirteen, and we got Hernandez in the gravel on turn ten.” Kathy told me with more than a little disgust in her voice. “They all overpowered the turns.”

“Gotcha, Kathy. Where is Beth?” I needed to know if she was still where she started.

“Beth has climbed into fourth place and was threatening to overtake third on the next lap. If not this one.” I could tell by the tone of her voice that Kathy was smiling. When she smiles it only means good things for the team.

“Copy that, Kathy. Let me know the second she has the lead drivers spread out.” I figured that she needed to know what we were up to.

“Can do, but Bobbie you have half the field between you and her.” I could tell that she didn’t think there was anyway for me to catch up to Beth.

“Don’t worry about that, Kathy. I’ve been biding my time. Once that yellow flag goes away just keep me appraised of where Beth is. I got the rest under control.”

I had no sooner finished telling Kathy that I had shit under control than mom popped up on the radio. And she was pissed. “Roberta Lee, you will listen to your gods be damn spotter or I’ll yank your sorry ass out of that car.”

“Yes, ma’am. Understood.” I didn’t need an anvil to drop on my head. Mom spotted something that I hadn’t and she was placing her trust in Kathy and her mom. I figure that I should be doing the same as I was the one that vouched for them to be our spotters. People think that a driver is out here all alone. We’re not. There is a voice that keeps us calm and on track to win. There is person right there in the cockpit with you for every neck breaking turn. Every pit stop. Every pass or block made in the race. They are the unsung heroes of racing. The spotters.

They spend as much time if not more, studying tracks. They learn every curve, each straightaway. They have to know each little detail of a course. They earn their pay with the purpose build tracks. It is only the road or street courses where they are hampered. Those courses you have to have more than just one spotter. You have to have one on every turn and straightaway for the road or street courses. I know that Kathy has been watching the track like a hawk.

“Okay Kathy, what do you see that I don’t?”

“Turns one and two are starting to build rubber, the rest of the first section not so much. When you come off turn eight watch for ponding water at the base of the rise to turn nine. I know what you’re think, but water has slowly been building up in that spot from the begining of the race. And whatever you do, don’t try that slide pass on turn nine again. They’re already looking for you to try it. Time to shift over to the DRS zones and the straightaways.”

“Son of a bitch anymore good news? It sounds like the other teams have our play book. What the fuck happened?” I bitched.

“That asshole Newcastle from Renault has been studying your driving style hard. He tried your power-slide pass on turn fifteen and made it work. That’s what happened. He has been passing on his info to the other drivers. Bobbie the hardcores really making a run at putting you and Beth out for the rest of the season.” The more I heard the madder I got.

As we rounded turn sixteen for the second time the green flag was dropped, and we went back to racing. The last time we went green I passed three of my competitors. This time I did a little than just pass someone. I drove right down the middle of the field. I forced my way past six stupid son-of-bitches before they ever realized I was in their blind spots and diving hard for turn 1. I took the inside edge as if on rails. Power snapped the rear end around and block the rest of the field from using turn 2 to make up ground. It took fourteen laps but I was now in the top ten.

I use the outside edge of that long turn 3 to pass two more cars. I can already tell that most of the hardcore assholes are up front. The guys that I have been passing so far have the good manners to get the fuck out of my way and not make me force the issue with them. As we round turn 8, I see what Kathy was talking about. I watch as the car in front of me sprays water a good ten feet in the air. I hit the ponding water just as hard and have to fight to keep from hydroplaning.

That is the only thing that keeps me from plowing into the car in front of me as I crest turn 9 going into the apex. I have slam on the breaks hard and gear down as fast as I can. The dumb shit was sliding sideways across the track. He hit the apex and started to hydroplane. I watch and pray that he doesn’t buy the farm as I actually like the guy. For an Aussie he’s and alright kind of guy. Bit loud at times but I like him anyway. Thankfully he pulls out of the slide and it gives me a chance to pass without further incident. I know that is harsh, but this is racing.

One man’s misfortune is another’s golden opportunity. For the next five laps the track gets tighter, and tighter. It has finally started to dry out. Chief Hailee and Marks have been keep a hard eye on the track conditions though out the race. I know those two men will make the call any lap now for a change over to the slicks. The only question will be what grade they want to run. I get two more passes in before Chief Hailee calls Beth in for a change of tyres.

I round turn 16 and see Beth pulling out of the pits at full throttle. Perfect time for a little sister bonding time. I key my mike. “Okay sis you read for some two on one action?”

“Holy shit where the fuck did you come from?” Was all Beth asked.

“Ask her no questions and she’ll tell you no lies. Just go with the flow Beth.” Once again mom came up on the radio. “Drop the hammer girls. You got two laps before Bobbie will need new tyres, Beth. So, make the most of it.”

The fact that mom was telling us to take off the gloves just made it all the sweeter. We had barely cleared turn 1 when Judas Priest’s ‘Hellrider’ began to pound in my ears. We pulled up on the ass end of the fourth place car and split him. Beth went to the inside and I went to the outside. We boxed the poor bastard in and left him with nothing to do but break. With him in our rearview we went after second place. Once again, we boxed in our prey. Only this time we did it going into turn 5. Not the easiest thing to do on such a tight hairpin turn. Still, we got the job done. He fell to our team work. We were second and third with first place in our sights. We had just reach the bottom of the rise for turn 9 when the red flag came out. We both started breaking hard as we knew that the wreck had to be just over the rise at the apex of the turn.

Kathy and Coach Hall’s excited screams confirmed this. “BREAK! BREAK NOW! DON’T TAKE THAT TURN AT SPEED! BREAK! BREAK!”

It took all of mine and Beth’s skills to bring our cars to a full stop before the apex of turn 9. We were sliding sideways by the time we got stopped. Thankfully the drivers behind us had more time to slow their cars and bring them to a stop or the wreck would have been worse. I could already tell that the emergency crews were going to be too late. The wrecked car was fully engulfed in flames and upside down. There was no way in hell that driver was going to survive.

“Bobbie, Beth, the Marshals are ordering all cars off the track. You are to back track to the pits. Once there you are to shut down your engines. The race has been cancelled. Bobbie, they’re scoring you in first place and the winner. Beth you’re in second place. Before you ask for the reason why don’t. Just do what you’re told.” I could tell by Chief Hailee’s voice that the reason was not good.

It took another fifteen minutes to get things straightened out. And another five before we were finally back on pit row. Once there I shutdown my engine as ordered. It took both Danny and Kelly to get me out of the car. I didn’t want to move. Not after what I had seen and heard on that turn. Not even in my worst nightmares had I ever dreamed of a death like that. Burning to death is not something I would wish on my worst enemy. I didn’t even know who it was and I already felt the need to throw up. AS I climbed out of my car the Marshals were climbing all over it.

“What the fuck Chief? They seriously can’t believe that we had something to do with that wreck. We weren’t even in position to threaten the guy in that turn.” I began to plead our case before the Marshals could throw us off the circuit.

“Excuse us, Miss McGuire, but we’re not impounding your car. We need to see that new fuel cell of yours. This is the sixth fuel cell to fail this season. Your team has been in one of the worse wrecks and your fuel cell survived intact.” The senior Marshal said quickly to put me at easy. Not that it helped.

I had just watched a man burn to death. I knew that the Devil’s Bounty Hunter was out there today. I knew he was looking for someone to collect, but I thought it would be me. Not someone else. I didn’t even know who was in the car.

“Sir, you can have the design for our fuel cells. I don’t care if my mother objects. Pull that fucking thing and copy it. Keeping its safety features aren’t worth another person’s life. If my mother gives you any shit tell her I said to fuck off.” I had no sooner finished my little act of rebellion before I had to rush for the nearest trashcan. That’s where my mother found me ten minutes later. I now had an empty stomach, a dry throat, and a nasty taste in my mouth.

For once no one came around to congratulate me on my win. I don’t think that anybody was in the mood to celebrate anyway. Mom hand me a bottle of water and two aspirin. As I fought to get the aspirin down mom told me who died. When I heard the man’s name I wanted to cry. I may not have liked the guy but he at least raced me fair and square, always showing me and Beth the respect we had earned. “Mom, did he have any family? You know, wife and kids.”

“No dear. Robert Campbell was single with no family. I think his parents died a few years ago, and he was an only child.” Mom rubbed my back helping me to calm down. “You saw the tank go up, didn’t you?”

“I was less than twenty feet from him when that fuel cell failed.” I wiped the tears from my eyes. I shivered and confessed something that I really didn’t want to. “Mom, I could hear his screams over my engine and everything.”

“You going to be alright for the victory party tonight?” Mom was truly concerned if she was asking that question. I thought about and shook my head no. “Do you need to talk to Shelly?”

I didn’t have to think twice about that question. For the first time in a long time I needed someone who knew me better than my parents. “Yes.”

Mom didn’t even think about it she just helped me to stand up and walked me over to the team trailer. Once inside she pulled out the satphone. She handed it to me and said one word as she walked back out. “Call.”

As she got the end of the trailer, I called out to her. “Hey, mom. By chance you didn’t pack my emergency buddy, did you?”

“Big closet, top shelf. In the hatbox, baby.” Mom had stopped and turned back to face me as she answered the question. “I kind of figured that you would need him sooner or later. You’ll never be far from him love.”

With that mom walked out the trailer, closing the door behind her. I quickly went to the family team locker or Big closet. I found what I was looking for Just like mom said I would. I took down the hatbox opening it to find my old nightmare buddy Sylvester. I know that most people have a teddy bear, but I have a stuffed Sylvester the cat. Mainly because I always wanted him to catch that annoying Tweety. With Sylvester in my arms I head for my compartment and call Shelly’s emergency line. I’m not going to look forward to her bill this month but fuck it. I’ve got the money and I won’t mind paying her bill if she can help me now.

-----tbc-----