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 33
Yas Marina, Abu Dhabi, the Championship Race or as I call it the last dance.

I stood quietly looking out at the track. It took everything I had in Sao Paulo, Brazil to even bring me back into contention for the title. Not that it mattered. I’m still 5 points behind McNairy, 8 points behind Reichenbach and tied with Beth. Unless I fucking pullout all the stops and win today Reichenbach will be this year’s champion. Not that I really, ever had a chance. Sure, Beth and I made one hell of a run at the championship, but I always knew that a championship win wasn’t in the cards.

“Thinking about how you’re going to attack the track, Speedy?” I let the smile cross my face as I turned to face Chief Hailee. “You out there already?”

“No Chief, I’m still here. Just trying to clear my head before the race as usual.” I looked back out at the track. “Tell me the truth Chief. Did we ever really stand a chance at winning the championship?”

Chief Hailee chuckled as he looked up and down the pit road. “Bobbie, there is one thing that I’ve known from the first time I watched you and your sister drive your parents’ cars, you girls are champions. You two stood a better chance at winning a rookie year championship than anyone I’ve ever seen. I’ve been in the game for thirty plus years. I’ve seen them come and go. None of them have half the talent of you girls. It doesn’t matter when it happens, but it will happen. As for this year, the race hasn’t run yet. You still got a shot at the World Driver’s Championship Cup.”

“Yeah, I just got to win this race along with Reichenbach and McNairy both getting a DNF.” I snorted, then grinned. “Let’s hope that they screwup.”

“Don’t you know it is bad form and all to wish that on your competitors Roberta?” When I heard the polished English accent that belongs to McNairy, I give the man a smile. “One would think that you do not play fair.”

“Ja, this is true. To court misfortune upon your competitors is to challenge the fates.” I just couldn’t help it. I liked Thomas Reichenbach and Robert McNairy. Thomas smiled. “Und as much as I admire you and your sister. I will not let either of you beat me today. Not if I have a choice.”

“Then don’t screw up, Thomas. Because the second you give us a chance, we’ll roll your ass for lunch money.” I grinned. “Good luck out there today.”

“You know for a crude American, you’re quite charming at times Roberta.” Robert smirked. “Then there are times that you are a pain in the ass.”

“Ja, das ist richtig. She is one major pain in the ass on the track. I feel sorry for those poor American drivers when they face her on their tracks.” Thomas just grinned and held out his hand. “Good luck today Bobbie.”

I took his hand and shook it. “You too, Thomas.”

Robert took my hand next. “Good luck, Roberta.”

“Same to you, Robert.” I shook his hand and smiled at the two men. “Both of you be safe out there, today. I don’t want to win by default.”

They just nodded their heads and walked off. Over the next half hour almost every driver on the circuit stopped by mine and Beth’s pits to wish us luck. We may not have come to Formula One as respected competitors, but we had won their respect as equals. In the only way and place that it mattered, on the race tracks of the Formula One Circuit with nothing more than their skill, a little luck, and a pair of fast cars. There were still a few diehards among the crowd but neither of us gave a shit about those chauvinistic pigs. We had both learned a long time ago that you can’t please everyone and our give a shit meters were broken around that same time. Well, at least mine was; not too sure about when Beth’s give a shite meter broke, it just is.

With just ten minutes to go for the start of the race Beth stepped into my pit area. I gave her a smile and walked over. “Looks like it’s about time for our last dance of the season sis. Ready to go out with a bang?”

“Sure am.” Beth was as eager as I was to finally get a break from all the globetrotting we’ve been doing. “Though I’m not too happy with having to split up our team just to satisfy the French family.”

“You’re not the only one, Beth. I hate the idea myself, but that is the only way they’re going to let Mercedes into NASCAR. At least they’re letting us decide on who makes the jump.” I sighed. “Best of luck Beth over in NASCAR.”

“What makes you think that you’re the one who is going to be staying?” Beth poked me in the left tit. “We still have fifty-five laps to the end of the race and the season. That is a lot of racing yet to go.”

“We’ll see old lady.” I grinned as she glared at me. she really hated it when I called her old lady. “See you at the finish line, Beth. I’ll be the one in the winner’s circle.”

“Like I said earlier, little sister. There is still a lot of race to go. Be exact, we got fifty-five laps to figure who is the better driver.” Beth turned and stormed out of my pit area while I giggled.

Once I was alone again, I began to think about the race. The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix Circuit was 5.554 km in length, had 21 turns. The race lap record is 1:40.279 held by Germany’s Sebastian Vettel, of Red Bull Racing. He set it in 2009. The Yas Marina Circuit is the venue for the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. The circuit was designed by Hermann Tilke, and is situated on Yas Island, about 30 minutes from the capital of the UAE, Abu Dhabi. Yas Marina is the second Formula One track in the Middle East, with the first being in Bahrain. The circuit has FIA Grade 1 license.

It is also one of the few counterclockwise tracks. Something that was not in my favor. I always have problems with counterclockwise tracks. I can handle the standard clockwise tracks with no problem. I just don’t know what it is about the counterclockwise tracks they just throw off my timing. I can play whatever type of music I want, and it won’t matter. My timing will be off.

That is one of the reasons I play fast paced music like rock when I race. The heavy beat of the drums lets me time the turns of the tracks. The pounding of the bass lets me judge the lengths of straightaways. The screaming vocals and driving lead guitar calm my nerves as I fight for the next pass. Most drivers have some type of trick to time their approaches and exits for turns. I know that Beth uses her training in dance to time for her timing. I learned a long time ago that you need some type of trick for timing your shifts, braking, and accelerating when racing.

I had turned back to look out at the track. As sad smile came to my face. “Wishing that Kelly was here, kiddo?”

“I wish she could be here mom. But the doctors told us that her last time for traveling was in Mexico. They don’t want her traveling any more, not with her carrying twins. I would rather have her at home where she’s safe with her parents than bouncing around the world following me.” I answered mom while keeping my eyes on the track.

“Still having second thoughts about taking on this track, honey?” Mom asked.

“We both know that I suck on these counterclockwise tracks, mom. I do alright but they’re still my nemesis. I don’t know what it is about these tracks, but they throw off my timing every time.” I bitched.

“I doubt that the counterclockwise tracks are welcomed by the other drivers either. I know that more than a few of them have petitioned to have them removed from the season schedule. Won’t happen though. Too much money is tied up in these tracks to just ignore them.” Mom explained.

“I know that mom. Just because I hate these types of tracks, I doubt the FIA will change the schedule to satisfy me. The one thing these tracks do, more than any of the others, is level the playing field.” I sighed. “Today is going to be all about the skill of the individual driver.”

Mom gave me a funny look then chuckled. “Which is the way that you love it, Bobbie. Please don’t deny it. You live for the times when a race is boiled down to just the pure skill of the driver.”

“Your mom is only telling the truth Bobbie. You and your sister thrive the most during races like this. Especially when there is something more on the line than just pride. You may be our drivers out there on the track today, but long before that you were our daughters. We know what drives you girls.” This time I turned around to see my dad standing there with a smile. “Only for you when you race, there is something more.”

“We know that others have told you this Bobbie. You can only race the Devil’s Bounty Hunter for so long. It doesn’t matter to us if you win or lose. Not in the long run. Just so long as you’re safe.” Mom hugged me tightly. “Now get out there and give it your damnedest to win.”

“Don’t worry about that mom. I’ll never throw a race. Not even for my sister. Oh, I love my sister and all, but not that much.” I smirked.

Mom and dad chuckled at my comment about never throwing a race. Not even for Beth. Then again, they knew how competitive I get behind the wheel of a racecar. Dad patted me on the back. “Okay kiddo, time to get strapped in. Be careful out there and watch your ass.”

“See you all at the finish line. It’ll either be to celebrate or commiserate.” I thought about how that sounded. “Let me rephrase that. To both celebrate and commiserate.”

“We’ll just be celebrating kiddo. We got some interesting news from the bosses back in Germany earlier this morning.” Dad said with a querk of the lips. “Let you know at the finish line kiddo.”

I’ve seen that look on my dad’s face before. I knew that he had something up his sleeve. I should say that mom had something up his sleeve. What that was I had no clue and it was no use trying to pry the information out of them. They won’t talk until they’re ready. They learned how to keep a secret long before Beth was even a glint in dad’s eye.

“I talk to you then. I know better than to try and pry the information out of you. You two have more secrets than the Air America.” I turned and headed for my car. “Time to have fun.”

As I stood next to my car I slipped in my earbuds and pulled on my balaclava. Once I had my gloves and helmet on, I climbed into the cockpit. Danny once again helped me with the safety straps. I hit the play button for my music and signaled Chief Hailee to start the engine. I felt and heard the deep unrelenting rumble of the demon that was the powerplant come to life once more. As much as I wanted to unleash all that power out there today. I knew that I won’t be able to. There is only one problem.

This track didn’t lend itself to uncontrolled power. I would only be able to use about 45% of that power throughout the majority of the track. There are only two places on this track that will allow me to open up the powerplant, the two straightaways. The tight turns and narrow track surface would force me to hold back on the throttle.

I rolled out right next to Beth in eighth place on the starting grid. We did our best to qualify higher, but this is where we ended up. Beth in seventh place and me in eighth place. Not that is mattered in the long run. We just had to hold our own until the last half of the race. We would have anywhere between 18 to 25 pit stops in the next 55 laps. This is one time where those pit stops will come into play. As we take our warmup lap, I stretch my senses to their limits. I know that we have had what most would consider plenty of practice this last week. But I could have done with another two to three practice sessions. As we round the final corner and line up, I know that today is going to be a knock down drag out fight to the finish.

The track is nasty slick in the turns, especially in the 90 degree turns and the one hairpin of turn seven. Even with all the rubber build up over the week the track has gone slick. I should have expected this to happen. I felt it going away during my last Qualifying run. But I didn’t pay attention the way that I should have. I key my mike as we pull to a stop.

“Chief Hailee, when I come in for my first stop, I want four of our hardest tires. The track is already starting to go away. There is way too much rubber build up out here on this track today.”

“I hear you Bobbie. Are you sure you want to go with a harder set of tires?” I thought about what Chief Hailee was asking.

“Yeah I’m sure Chief. By the time we come in for our first stop the track will have eaten away most of our tires out here. That’ll clean up most of the lose rubber out there and bring the track back to race trim.” I explained.

“Gotcha, kiddo. Full set of hard balls. You want the pressure high or low?”

“We’ll start off low Chief and work our way up. I got a nasty feeling that for the first fifteen to twenty laps all our tires are going to be doing is cleaning the track. I’m expecting at least one spinout in those twenty laps.” I knew that I was showing off, but that was just the feel I got from the warmup lap. I felt my rear end wanting to slide out from under me in almost every turn out there. Especially the number seven hairpin turn.

There are twenty-one turns on this track and thirteen of them are ninety-degree nasty sons-of-bitches. The first of which is straight out the gate in turn one at the end of the start/finish straightaway. This is the start of sector one and the easiest part of the track. At least as far as I was concerned. With the exception of turn one, I can handle this sector in my sleep. It is a lot like Old Millers Road back home. A road that I’ve taken to school every day for the last two years of high school. Most of the gearheads back home could race this sector blindfolded.

The Christmas tree flashed yellow letting me know that I needed to get my head in the game. I peddled the throttle revving the engine. I watched as the lights flashed green and took off hard. I was right on Beth’s rear end as she dove into turn one. As I exited out of turn one and headed for turn two the opening sounds of Radar Rider by Riggs fill my ears.

I start to giggle. It seems that Kelly left me with a surprise. She’s been filling my iPod with the soundtracks to movies lately. This song is just the latest example, as it is the opening song for the 1981 classic, Heavy Metal. This isn’t the first time Kelly has uploaded a movie soundtrack to my iPod in the race mix category. In Auston she loaded up the soundtrack to Top Gun and Maximum Overdrive on me. I wonder what other soundtrack she uploaded for me today. Not that it’ll matter. So long as there is a steady driving beat it’ll help me keep my timing.

For the three laps I listen to the sounds of Radar Rider. As I round turn 7 in the 12th lap Judas Priest’s Turbo Love begin to play. I also spot my first chance at an overtake. Beth went too wide in the hairpin turn. I’ll have to time it just right on the next lap. As it stands right now that will be my only chance. Beth is just too damned good. With each turn and straightaway Beth’s skill behind the wheel is proven.

I smile to myself as I fight to get into position for the pass. I can’t believe just how good Beth has gotten over the last year. Then again, she isn’t the only one to have improved. Driving against the professionals of the Formula One Circuit has forced me to step up my game with every race. I don’t care who you are. You drive against these men and you have no choice but to improve your skills. The reverse of that is also true. The better you get the better they get as well.

You just have to look at the six drivers in front of us. At the beginning of the season with the exception of Reichenbach and McNairy none of them would have placed this high. With the exception of me and Beth they are the four youngest drivers on the circuit. Those four young men have increased their skills by leaps and bounds. And between them and Beth I’ll have my hands full. It’s going to take a lot of luck to win today.

As I come on turn 14, I see my first piece of good luck. Jose Denali spins out and slides off the track. The fact his bad luck is our good luck doesn’t play into the matter. This is racing. And in racing you’re either the winner or one of the losers. And today there will be nineteen losers and one winner. With one out of the top four drivers walking away with the championship cup. Hopefully that one will be me.

“Heads up Bobbie. On the next lap I want you to come in for your first pitstop. I know that’s early, but I doubt that your tires are going to hold their grip for much longer.” I knew what Chief Hailee was talking about before he even made the call. I was going to call for a pitstop at the end of this lap anyway so saw no need in correcting him.

“They’ve already started going south, Chief. It’s worse than I first guessed. The track is eating our tires like a starving fat man at an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet. Also, we need to raise the stabilizers and wings for better downforce control in the turns. Most of them are getting tighter with each lap.” I answered back. Giving him a better idea of what I needed to try and win this race or at least place high enough to win the championship.

“We can give you the new tires just fine. But we go making those adjustments to the stabilizers and wings we’ll lose too much time. This is one time we need to take grip and handling over speed.”

Damn he was right. This track lends itself more to a race between the drivers’ skills. I’ll just have to do my best with what he can give me. “Give me what you can Chief. I’ll do my best.”

“Standby for the count.” Chief Hailee called out as I rounded turn 10. I knew that I had to hit my marks dead on and concentrated. “Ready. Mark.”

I heard Chief Hailee calling out the turns along with keeping the countdown going. I continued to smile as I entered pit road. I hit the pit dead on the money. I had no sooner stopped than I felt the car bounce into the air. At 1.98 seconds I felt the car hit the ground and the front jackman move out of the way. I floored the accelerator and sped out my pit.

I knew that I had to get back out on the track as fast as possible. Time was not on my side during this race. The sad truth was nothing was on my side today. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I’ll need all the luck I can get today. As I exit pit road the sounds of Iron Maiden’s The Trooper pounded in my ears. The driving bass, screaming lead guitar, blasting drums, and grabbing vocals are all I need to hear. There is no way that I’ll back down now. It’s just the song to pull me out of my slump.

“Slow it down Bobbie. You can’t take those turns at that speed.” Kathy warned me over the radio.

“Don’t worry about me, Kathy. I can handle this track. I got the feel for it now. I just have to finish figuring out the timing.” I told her.

“If that is the case. I’ll start a counting for you. Ready? Here we go.” For the next four laps Kathy kept a steady count. With each lap I was able to pick up a little more speed. Then on lap twenty in turn 21 everything changed. Three of the cars at the back of the pack lost control. The wreck put the entire track under yellow flag conditions. Even as I closed up with the rest of the lead cars that there was now no way to move up through them.

At least without a massive piece of good luck. It won’t matter how it comes. I’m going to need every trick in the book plus a few that aren’t even written yet to win today. I followed everyone into pit road for fresh tires and adjustments to their stabilizers and wings. This time I got the needed adjustments. I passed one of the cars that had been in front of me in the pits. Talk about good luck. The man stalled his engine and his pit crew wasn’t ready for the possibility.

It took a total of two more laps before we were ready to go back to green. I lined up behind the rest and took a final lap around the track. We lined up for the green flag and when it came, I dropped the hammer. I had my timing down now. All thanks to Kathy’s counting. I dive in hard on turn 1 cutting Beth off before she can do the same to me. I know that she won’t like it, but that is racing. Nothing more, nothing less. She understands that.

For the next twelve laps I fight my way through the lead cars into the third position. I know that I shouldn’t get cocky, but they’ve all been leaving me chances for the overtake at almost every turn for the last four laps. It’s like they can’t hold their grip turn for some reason. I keyed my mike. “Kathy is it me or are the other drivers losing their grip in the turns?”

“I would have to say that they’re losing grip. There are too many cars sliding around out there.” She went quiet on the radio for a second. “Yup, the cars at the back of the pack are starting to make their pitstops.”

Chief Hailee was right behind her. “Starting your countdown now Bobbie. Four fresh tires on the stop.”

I listened to his orders and waited for the signal to hit the pits. As I round turn 20, I spot the entrance to pit road. I knew that I would have to hit my marks or screw the pooch. I hit all of my marks, dead on. I pulled into my pit and felt the car bounce into the air. Two seconds later I was down and, on my way, back out onto the track. It didn’t take me long to get back up to race speeds as I rounded turn 1. I knew that I had only nine more laps to do something if I wanted to win this race.

At lap fifty-one I knew that my luck has finally run out. I heard something from the powerplant that no driver wants to hear. Something back there let go, and I was starting to lose power. Keying my mike, I called out to Chief Hailee. “Chief, I got some bad news.”

“I can already see the smoke, kiddo. No need to apologize. These things happen. It’s racing at its worse. Can you limp her back in?”

“I should be able to bring in. I got enough power for that, anyway. It feels like I dropped one or two of the cylinders. I just know that I’m losing power and slowing down with each turn.” I told him. “Looks like we get to make the jump to NASCAR Chief. I hope you got a plan for the new competition.”

“I’ll figure something out kiddo. We always do.” Chief Hailee chuckled then swore up a storm when I felt something else let go. “Ah shit! What else just broke Bobbie? I can tell because you just lost a lot of speed.”

He was right and there was no way I was going to be able to get the car back to the pits. Pulling over to the outside line of the back straightaway I came to a stop. “Call out the wrecker Chief. The car is done.”

I watched as Beth roared passed me at almost full speed. She was followed by the rest of the field. As I was unstrapping from the seat the yellow flag came out. By the time I climbed out of the cockpit the wrecker had shown. I had to give it to these guys. They had my car hooked up and ready to roll out in two minutes. They even gave me a lift back to the pits.

I climbed out of the wrecker with a smile. “Sorry, about this, guys. It looks like either McNairy or Reichenbach will take to checkered flag today.”

“This is one time that there was nothing you could do Bobbie.” I turned to Danny who was already pulling the engine cowling off the car. “You can see where the block cracked under the heat.”

“Then something else had to give for that to happen.” Chief Hailee said as he walked over to the car. As he looked inside, he spotted the problem right away. “The oil pump let go.”

“Is it sabotage or just bad luck, Chief?” I asked him.

“This is nothing more than bad luck, Bobbie.” Chief Hailee sighed. “We’ve had one hell of a run for a bunch of rookies.”

“Yeah, that we have Chief. I just wish we could have gone out with a win.” I bitched. I would have said more but Danny said something to grab my attention. Along with everyone else’s in the pit.

“Ah shit. Looks like Beth needs the wrecker now. Yup, she blew her engine as well. Almost in the same place.” Danny turned to face his dad. “Dad, when Beth’s car gets here, I think we need to take a look at the engine block.”

“What do you think is going on Danny boy?” Chief Hailee asked.

“If both blocks are cracked, I got a funny feeling that more than the oil pumps let go. Not with the way that the block cracked in Bobbie’s engine.” Danny was showing his father that he had been learning.

“If that is the case then we need to look at the actual engine material construction. If they’re cracking like you believe we have a real problem.” Chief Hailee got a thoughtful look in his eyes. “We may have to go back to the drawing board and metallurgy labs to find an answer.”

“I hate to say this Chief. But I can tell you right now that is what needs to happen. This is the second time, no, third time that these engine blocks have gone tits up on us. We’ve always known that the engines were experimental from the start. I’m just glad they last for the season.” I smirked.

“Um… I hate to say this Bobbie. But those aren’t the engine blocks we started the season with. We change those out before we reached Montreal, Canada.” I gave Danny a funny look. “Yeah those old engine blocks were already wearing out. Chief Marks knew those experimental engine blocks won’t last back then. don’t ask me how he knew, he just did.”

“God. You’re such a dumbass at times, Danny. How can you even claim to be my son?” Chief Hailee sighed. “Boy, there are times when I just want to pound you. Chief Marks has decades on you.”

The face palm was almost a forgone conclusion. “Ah man. He has the experience that none of us have yet. Is that it?”

“About time you figured it out boy.” Chief Hailee chuckled. “But it is more than just his experience. He also has something else. He has his education.”

Chief Hailee was interrupted in his impromptu class by the arrival of the wreck with Beth, and her car. I could tell by the look on her face, that Beth was beyond pissed. Her first words as she hopped out of the truck just confirmed my suspicion. “What hell happened to my fucking engine?!”

“Chill the fuck out sis. It was nobody’s fault. This is one time where the problem lies with something none of us could see. Now, drop the attitude.” I snapped. I wasn’t going to let her bring down the rest of the team with her pissy attitude. Regardless of where we place in the championship.

Beth took a step back at my sudden burst of anger. She sighed. “Okay, Bobbie.”

As Beth joined us over by my car, she got the first whiff of burnt oil. I watched as a look of disgust crossed her face. “Damn. Here I thought that mine was the only one to drop a cylinder.”

“Nope. Why do you think I pulled over when I did?” I demanded.

Beth gave a sly smile then shrugged her shoulders. “I figured that you had given up in the face of my overwhelming superiority and skills.”

Tossing her a one finger salute I told her with a smile. “Bite me.”

“Enough girls.” We both turned to see mom and dad standing a few feet away. Dad had his usual quirky smile. He looked over at both cars. “Looks like those new engines didn’t last as long as we hoped, Jewels.”

“They lasted longer than I expected, Bob. Not that they did our girls any good.” Mom sighed. “I’m sorry kids. I know that you had your hopes set on winning the championship. This is all our fault.”

“Mom, this is one time that I doubt any of us could have planned for. It was nothing more than racing at its finest.” I gave mom a quick hug then did the same for dad. I turned to Beth smiling. “Looks like you get to stay Beth.”

“I don’t think either of you girls will be staying in Formula One.” Mom said with more conviction than I’ve ever heard her use. “You also won’t be going over to NASCAR.”

When I heard this my heart fell. “At least we gave it a hell of a run.”

“Yeah. It would have been nice to place one of those trophy cups in the family business.” Beth sighed.

“It is a shame that your season ended the way that it did, Miss McGuire.” Beth and I both turned to find Mister Benz standing in my pit area. “You young ladies have put on quite the show this year.”

“Very true. They did a marvelous job for such novice drivers. No offence ladies. But you were rookies to Formula One.” It must have been the glare on my face that caused Mister Mercedes to back pedal. The fact that it was just the two of them here means something is up. Wherever the COWS are they’re still obeying mom’s orders to stay out of the pits. “The sport shall truly be a much dimmer place without you ladies.”

“Wait a minute. I thought only one of us was making the jump to NASCAR?” I questioned them both sharply.

“What do you know of the International Stockcar Association?” Mercedes asked with more than a little smirk. At our looks of confusion, the man went on to explain. “That is where you and your sister shall be next year, Roberta.”

“Okay just what the hell is the International Stockcar Association?” I asked for all of us. “Are there even enough NASCAR style tracks around the world for a league of that scale?”

“Thanks to a deal between the American Automotive Manufactures, the France family, and most of the European automotive companies we do now.” Benz began to explain. “NASCAR has agreed to the use of four of the seven super speedways and four of the regular US speedways. With those eight tracks and the more notable ovals in other countries such as Rafaela in Argentina, Motegi in Japan, Lausitzring in Germany, the Calder Park Thunderdome in Australia, Brooklands and Rockingham in the United Kingdom, Monza in Italy, and Montlhéry in France. That gives us a total of sixteen tracks for Stockcar style racing around the world. Even now the few European tracks that aren’t up to standard are being resurfaced. Thankfully the first race for the new league is on February the twenty-ninth at the Talladega Super Speedway.”

“Wait. Are saying that those France family assholes finally gave the go ahead for an international Stockcar league? That we’re going to racing in a totally new league? How many drivers and teams are there going to be in the league? Do we get to take our pit crews with us? Will we be following the NASCAR Monster Energy rules? Will there be ‘restrictor plate racing’? You know like NASCAR has at places like Talladega and Daytona?” Beth’s rapid-fire questions had the two men’s heads spinning.

I started laughing right along with the rest of the team. None of us had really liked the idea of splitting up the teams. Now, that we know that won’t be happening we all set to make the jump to a new league. It will also be a return to our roots as it were. After all, we come from what some consider the heartland of NASCAR. Hell, there is even a song about Darlington County and the life that we live there.

I only had one question for the two men. “Will we get the chance to dance with the Lady in Black?”

My one question had everyone in our pits coming to a dead quiet. They like me was waiting with bated breath for one of the men to answer. Only it wasn’t Benz or Mercedes that answered my question. “I look forward to seeing what you can do on your home speedway, Miss McGuire.”

I spun around on my heel to find my least favorite Formula One Marshal standing there. “What does that mean Mister Limpet? You making the jump as well?”

“I and a few of the other Marshals shall be joining you and your sister in the new league.” The man chuckled. “I had come by to give my condolences on not finishing the race today. I wasn’t expecting to find your teams practically celebrating. I know that the other two teams who will be joining you are definitely not looking forward to the new league.”

“Mister Limpet, you wouldn’t happen to know why they’re not looking to make the transfer to the league?” Dad asked him bluntly.

“Mr. McGuire the reason is simple. They are not looking forward to learning a new way of driving. We all know that oval track racing takes a totally deferent set of skills. And they do not like the fact that they will be considered rookie drivers in the new league.” The more Limpet talked the more I wanted to know.

“How many drivers will there be in total, sir?” Beth asked him quickly.

“We will have four drivers from Formula One, four from Indy, five from the Monster Energy NASCAR Cup Series, five from the Xfinity Series, three from the Gander Outdoors Truck Series, three from the NASCAR K&N Pro Series East, two from the West, five from NASCAR’s Pinty's Series, and five from NASCAR’s Whelen Euro Series. To be honest, we’re surprised to have such a large number of drivers from other auto-sports making the transfer to such a new sport. I would never have thought that we could have gathered thirty-six professional drivers in our first year.” I was shocked at Limpet’s honesty. I stood there thinking about what the man just said and smirked.

“They’re racers, sir. You’re giving them the chance at racing on new tracks. Of course! They’ll jump to make the transition to a new league.” I pointed out for the poor man. The man’s lack of understanding was almost pathetic. “Just like my sister and me, those other drivers want to prove themselves on a bigger and grander platform. Racers will always push themselves. To find the next great challenge to their skills.”

“Sir, you have to understand racers are a breed a part. The need for speed is just something you learn to live with when it comes to them. That and the fact that on the whole they’re all nothing more than a bunch of adrenaline junkies.” Mom smirked as she placed her arm across my shoulder. Then looked down at me. “You do know what this means, don’t you?”

“No.” I answered bluntly.

“Time to go back to the drawing board. We got less than three months to build and test six NASCAR legal Stockcars.” The moment mom explained for us. “Two of which need to be setup for the Super Speedways, two for Speedways, and finally two that can handle the short tracks.”

“You will only need four cars Mrs. McGuire. The new league will only feature the oval tracks that are a mile and half at the smallest. The league will be staying away from the ‘bullpen’ style racing tracks.” Limpet was giving out more information than he should. The only teams in the new league that would be able to do more with the information was the 13 teams from the three US NASCAR premium leagues. There was something bothering about his willingness to share all of this information all of a sudden.

“Mr. Limpet, I hate to say this, but you’re acting awfully fishy right now. What gives? Why you sharing all this information?”

“I see no reason to not give you what is already known by the other teams. Besides we want all of the teams to be on an equal footing.” He answered with a smile. “Besides it would all come out shortly. If you’ll forgive me. I have a few inspections yet to make today. Good luck McGuires.”

With that the man walked away. I turned to Mercedes and Benz. “What will happen with the guys that already setup to race in NASCAR back home?”

“They’ll be staying in the original NASCAR leagues. We have abandoned the goal of having a winning team there. Just as we will not be abandoning our endeavors in Formula One. You need not worry about your friends in the Darlington Knights. They are even now testing their S-class chassis. From the reports that we’ve received. Those cars along with their drivers are going to be turning heads next year.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. MY sponsors, the PEOPLE I introduced the Knights, were routing for them to take the lead in a sport league that I wanted to race in.

Then again. I was about to become one the inaugural drivers in a totally new sport. I looked over at the rest of the team. “Looks like we got our marching orders guys. Time to go conquer a new and unknown sport.”

“We need to do more than just conquer the new sport, Bobbie.” Mom said with a grin. “We need to crush the competition and dominate the ISCRA.”

“The what?” I asked her with head cocked.

“The International Stock Car Racing Association.” Mom answered with a smile. As if the answer was as clear as the nose on my face. “But you’re right. Time to head for home people. Let’s get those cars loaded and the rest of our gear. We got three months to build four cars and retrain for a totally different style of racing.”

“You got that right mom.” Beth chuckled. Then looked over at me. “Been a longtime since we last danced on an oval track, baby sister. Remember how?”

I just smiled and gave her the universal one finger salute. “I don’t know about you Beth. But I’m looking forward to dancing three wide at over one-ninety in turn four at Talladega. What about you?”

“Let’s just say that next year is going to be fun.” Beth smirked.

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This ends the first book in the story of Bobbie McGuire and MDRI. Look for their return next year.