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Total number of drivers 40. Number of company teams 10. Number of tracks 20. Number of countries 12. Time frame 6 months. Number of Fallen Angels hooked on speed 2. The McGuire sisters are and they’re out for blood in the newly founded International Stockcar Racing Association. After two years driving the Formula One circuit Professional Drivers Roberta Bobbie McGuire and her sister Elisabeth ‘Beth’ McGuire have made real names for themselves. The two young ladies took the world by storm in their first year by placing 3rd and 4th in the Championship points race. Now their plans and dreams of starting in the International Stockcar Association have come to fruition. The Fury twins plan to prove to the world they belong in Stockcar Racing. And they don’t care who they have to put into the wall to bring home the inaugural championship.

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Chapter 21
Berlin Superspeedway, Berlin, Germany

I stood on the pit road wall looking out at the heavy overcast clouds and the three-mile-long concrete oval, with twenty-four-degree banking in the turns and nine-degree banking on the straightaways. When I first woke up this morning I was hoping for a clean run at the track. Beth Sam and Jim were standing just behind me. “It’s going to rain. Shit there goes our chances at finishing more than four-hundred miles with these new engines.”

“Look on the bright side. We’ll at least get some solid data on the way they handle under real race conditions.” Beth offered up as she looked towards the northeast and the clouds rolling over that end of the track. “But you’re right. I figure we’ll get seventy-five to eighty laps at most.”

“I doubt that we’ll get that many Beth. I’ve been looking at the weather radar. There is a heavy storm cell rolling in on us. Once it hits they’ll have to call the race. We’re talking a total washout of the track.” Jim snorted.

“I’m with Jim on this one Bobbie. I give us fifty laps before it starts to sprinkle. Then around lap sixty total down pour.” Sam grunted as he gave his prediction.

“Guys think about something here. We’re running nonrestricted engines here. We’ll be pushing the two-hundred mark for most of this race.” I told the two men. “We’ll cover the first fifty laps in no time. Even with the competition yellow on lap twenty-five we’ll still be pushing our fuel window. I figure that we’ll get around twenty-three solid laps before needing to pit for fuel and tires.”

“Not even that many if Chief Slone’s calculations are correct.” Jim told us.

“What’s he saying Jim?” Beth asked quickly as her analytical mind kicked in.

“According to Slow Jake we’ll be lucky to hit twenty laps before needing tires. That’s going to be the deciding factor today. I kind of agree with him after seeing my tires from the practice runs and qualification yesterday.” Jim told us.

“How bad was the wear and tear?” I asked him bluntly.

“I can honestly say that if I had pushed any harder. I would have blown out the left side tires in under three to four laps.” Jim grunted.

“Damn. That is some massive tire wear. I never stopped to look at my tires from the practice runs. What made you look at them Jim?” Sam asked his partner in crime.

“During my last two practice laps I started to feel a slight shimmy in the frame. I can honestly say that it wasn’t the normal wearing of my tires that caused the handling to go sideways. I actually had to back out of the throttle in the turns.” Jim explained for us all. “Before you say anything. I know that I’m the only one to use all twenty laps for my practice run.”

“That’s true. I quite after twelve, Beth after fifteen, and Bobbie after only ten laps. What I want to know is why did you go the full twenty?” Sam asked him.

“There was something about the way you three were attacking the turns that I had to figure out. I wasn’t getting the same speed through the turns that you all were. It took me sixteen laps to figure out how you were pulling down those speeds. Once I did it was like flying through the turns.” Jim grinned.

“THAT is another thing we need to talk about. Have you three looked at our practice times and speeds?” Beth asked us with a wicked grin. “On our own we’ve all cracked the two-hundred mark on the straightaways. None of us went slower than one-ninety-eight during qualifying. It’s not surprising that we hold the top four positions on the starting grid. No one else even came close to our speeds or times.”

“What does that have to do with the price of coffee in Berlin?” Sam grunted.

“Guys. Think about it. What happens when we run in the draft?” I snarked.

“Oh shit. We’ll break two-oh-five if not more. Nobody will be able to keep up with the four us. Not once we break away from the pack.” Sam chuckled. “Our only problem will be who wo we let led the first stage.”

“That isn’t our biggest problem. We need to figure out who we let led and win the final lap. As it stands now. Sam is in twelfth position in the Championship. Jim’s in fourteenth tied with Beth.” I pointed out then sighed. “I’m barely holding onto fifteenth. We all need top five finishes for the next three races.”

“Bobbie, for once in your life shut the fuck up.” Beth snapped. “I heard about that promise you made to the kids at the HELIOS Kinderklinik yesterday.”

“Fuck you Beth. If I win I’ll do on my own luck and skill.” I snarled.

“That doesn’t mean we can give you a push here or there, Bobbie.” Sam grinned.

“I’m with them on this Bobbie. The rest of the world might not know about your little visits to the wards, but all of MRI knows. That’s all that matters to us.” Jim said as he patted me on the back. “We’re more than teammates. We’re family. Giving you a win here or there doesn’t make up for the second chance you gave us.”

“Jim’s only telling you the truth Bobbie. We owe you big time. Of all the drivers in ISA you deserve the inaugural Championship win the most. Not because of your skills as a driver. Because of what you do off the track that no one sees or hears about. How many children’s hospitals have you visited this season?” Beth asked of me with a knowing smile.

“If I don’t count the visits to the hospitals in South Carolina, thirteen so far. If I add in the ones at home. Somewhere around sixteen or so.” I blushed answering.

“More like twenty-one this season alone little sister. If we add in all the ones that you have visited over the three years your visited would be close to or over ninety. Julie has been hounding all three of us to go with you when you make your visits. It took dad explaining that was your thing and your thing only. We’ll visit them during the offseason. You give those kids something that we can’t.” Beth said with a smile of pride. Then grinned at the perplexed look on my face. “You give them hope Bobbie. Real honest to god hope.”

“Beth is right about that Bobbie. None of us can give those kids that kind of gift. You’re a true inspiration for them. You survived cancer and went on to become a professional racer. Hell, just look at me, Jim, and the rest of the Darlington Knights. Your challenge to turn our acts around pushed us all to earn the second chance you offered us. The old Darlington Knights could never have earn our pro licenses. Now we have six professional drivers among our ranks. The rest of us are either pit crew or junior mechanics for pro racing teams.” Sam told me with a smile.

“That’s your real gift, Bobbie. You inspire everyone you meet to better themselves. To strive for their dreams.” Jim said with real conviction. “That includes the other drivers in the ISA. I don’t know of one driver that hasn’t been forced to up their game just to compete on the same level as you and Beth.”

“Bullshit guys. I’m just being me. Nothing more, nothing less. I’m a racer. That is all that I have ever been and always will be.” I snorted.

“God! You’re such a stubborn, clueless, jackass at times.” Beth snorted then chuckled. “Then again I doubt you would be any other way.”

“I am not stubborn or clueless. A jackass at times sure. I just never give up the fight. Can’t help it.” I snorted as I thought about all the time I spent on the children’s cancer wards. “Not with what I’d been through before earning my ticket.”

“And that’s why you’ve earn not only our respect but admiration, Bobbie. Today is about more than just National Pride for Mercedes. It’s all about Team Pride for us. We have to win today for no other reason than to retake our places at the top of the Drivers’ rankings.” Beth told me honestly.

“The other teams have been talking Bobbie. More than a few of them say that you’ve lost your edge. That you’re no longer a threat.” Jim snorted as if that could ever be true. He knew that once pushed into a corner I always come out swinging.

“A lot of the other drivers are talking about putting your ass into the wall if you get near them.” Sam snarked then grinned. “Saying something about putting you in your place once and for all.”

“Just where would that be?” I snarled. As if I didn’t already know the answer.

“Barefoot and in the kitchen.” Beth grinned evilly. As I popped my knucks.

“Which team has been running their mouths the loudest?” I demanded.

“Who else, Prototype Outcasts and Les Ailes de Justice.” Beth grinned. “After all most of their drivers came over from Formula One.”

“Let me guess. Raniero Accomando, Gerino Rosetta and Panos Kontotis from Prototype Outcasts. With Jules Grinda, Léonard Carrell, and Lilian Picard from Les Ailes de Justice being the loudest of them all. Am I right?” I asked bluntly.

“Nailed it in one. What I want to know. What is their problem with you two?” Sam almost demanded of me and Beth.

“Last year we crushed all six at one time or another. They kept thinking that women had no place in Formula One racing. Other than as decorations off the track.” I snorted bluntly. “Kind of made sure they never left the track with their pride in tactic. Put their asses into the wall more than once.”

“Okay now I understand. Big macho he-man types didn’t like the fact that a ‘little’ girl could out drive their sorry ass on her worst day. Never mind the fact that when you pissed. Your driving skills jump off the fucking scale.” Jim chuckled.

“If you think they jump off the scale when my little sister is pissed Jim. You haven’t seen shit when she is on a mission to prove a point.” Beth giggled. “Just watch what she does today.”

“Are we taking odds?” Chief Hailee asked as he join the four of us.

“What are you giving Chief?” Sam asked quickly.

“Depends. Did one of you let Bobbie know about the talk around the garage areas?” Chief Hailee asked us with a knowing grin. When Jim nodded, Chief Hailee chuckled. “Four to one odds on the win. With a spread of five seconds on her fast lap time.”

“Not even going to touch that with an over under of fifteen seconds on the lap time Chief. Sorry but Bobbie is already pissed.” Beth snorted as she looked me in the eyes. “We’ll be doing good to just keep up with her today.”

“So long as our engines hold out and the rain holds off. We should be able to take the first two stages.” I explained with an evil smile. “WE just need to get single filed in front of the pack. Once we do that we don’t look back.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Jim grinned as Beth and Sam nodded in agreement. All four us turned to look at the grandstands as the announcement for the fans to clear the garage area. “Looks like it’s time to punch the clock and go to work.”

“About time. I’ve been feeling the need.” I began the old movie punch line.

“The need for speed!” To have Beth and the boys finish with a round of chuckles.

With that we all headed for our cars on pit road. We all stood respectfully as the German National anthem was played and a local preacher gave the benediction. With those out of the way we all climbed through the windows of our cars. I quickly put in my earbuds and bring up my latest race mix on my iPod. With Nomex hood, gloves, and helmet on I hit the play button. I waited for those four magical words. When they came I flipped the battery switches and mashed the starter button. The roar of the V8 monster chained to my will brought a smile to my face.

“Drivers! Start! Your! Engines!”

We rolled off pit road in single file behind the pace car. I know that it was conceded of me to think this way. But now that I’m out on the track with Beth beside me on the front row plus Sam, and Jim right behind us on the second row. I knew that we had this race in the bag. As we worked our way around the track during our warmup laps I listened to the soothing tones of Bonnie Tyler’s, Holding Out For A Hero. I knew the song by heart. I had listened to it during the darkest hours of my stays in the children’s cancer ward.

As we rounded turn 4 on our final warmup lap my grin grown. As we crossed over the start/finish line the opening notes to Steve Earle’s Copperhead Road roared in my ears. I shifted into 4th gear and stomped on the throttle. I was in my element. Nothing was going to stop me from setting a record for this track. As the first reframe of the song played in my ears I felt the world fall away. There was only me, my car, and we were one with the track.

The more the song played the faster and harder I drove. I more felt than saw Beth fall in behind me as we rounded turn 2. By the midway point of the back straightaway Jim and Sam were right behind us on lap two. We were a four-car freight train that was running out of control, and no one was going to stop us. By the second verse we had a 2 to 3 second led on the rest of the field and it was growing as we crossed the Start/finish line completing the first lap.

This song spoke to the very heart of every Stockcar racer. At least to those of us who grew up watching the legends of NASCAR. Men like Dale Earnhardt, Richard Petty, David Pearson, Jeff Gordon, Jimmy Johnson, just to name a few. These men were my heroes. Then there were the men like Junior Johnson, Bill Blair, and Lloyd Seay. The men who founded the sport as something to do on the weekends with their bootleg specials. Then there’s Wendell Scott. NASCAR’s first African American driver. They say that he was so fast that he moved the Civil Rights movement.

By the end of the third verse, we had crossed back over the start/finish line and were heading for turn 1 with three laps under us. Kathy told me that we had close to a five second led on the rest of the field. I more felt than saw Beth pushing on my rear bumper. I knew that Jim and Sam were tucked up nice and tight behind her. We were splitting the draft and the work. Nothing was going to stop us now that we were out front. From this point on 1st through 4th belonged to MRI. The rest of the field just didn’t know it yet. They were all racing for 5th place.

Copperhead Road was replaced by Sabaton’s Metal Machine. The driving heavy metal song fits our driving as we push our cars to over 210mph. When Chief Hailee radioed me to hold back on the throttle I chuckled. I still had a full quarter of peddle left to go. I knew that if I pushed down the rest of the way. I would be leaving Beth and the boys behind. I knew that I had the fastest car today. I proved that during qualifying yesterday. Not even Beth came close to my time or speed.

With the pounding drums and driving riffs of the guitars I wanted to go faster. By the time lap 23 laps in next to no time at all. When the competition yellow came out on lap 25 I breathed a sigh of relief. I knew that I was pushing my fuel window hard. Even with holding back on the throttle. I had a feeling that I would be running on fumes when I hit my pit stall. I was so low on fuel the pressure needle had passed E and was on W for walk. I had to ride the apron all the way around the track. Before I even slide to a stop in my pit stall I saw calling for two full fuel cans and the ether bottle in case I stalled out. Thankfully Greg slammed the first can into the fill port before my engine had a chance to stall out.

I knew that this was going to be a long pit stop. But I needed those two full fuel cans and four new tires. I could tell by the way my car was handling towards the end of lap 25. When Danny drops the driver side of my car I shift into 1st and haul ass out of my pit stall. I cross the line at the end of pit road inches in front of Beth. Her pit stall is right behind mine, but she completed her stop a fraction of a second faster. Not that it mattered. I still beat her off pit road. Jim and Sam were right behind us. As we lined up for the restart behind the pace car Kathy gave me the line up on the field. I was only slightly surprised to hear that the majority of the former NASCAR drivers were right behind us. While the Formula One and other drivers were spread throughout the rest of the field.

I knew that the edge would shift to the Stockcar drivers once more when we reached this track. I just didn’t expect it to be this large of a shift. The only reason I could figure out for the massive shift was the arrogance of the other drivers. I knew that they were feeling cocky after the last four races. Especially after Nathan Watson’s win at Indianapolis. Today’s race would be nothing more than a lesson in humility for the Formula One drivers and their counterparts from the other fields. When it comes to balls out, no holds barred, high speed, racing, no one holds a candle to Stockcar drivers for being the best. Maybe I should say the craziest.

On lap 28 we went back to racing to the sounds of Sabaton’s Steel Commanders. With this song I have to chuckle. I know who got a hold of my iPod before the race this time. I keyed my radio. “Kathy punch my little brother for me.”

“I take it that Joey uploaded a new race mix on your iPod?” She asked.

“You could say that.” I chuckled and went back to racing. I was slightly surprised to hear a cellist playing with the hardcore rock band. Not that I had anything against Joey’s taste in music I just prefer the bands from the 80’s and 90’s. As the first verse roared in my ears I dropped to the inside of the track hugging the apron. I had already figured out the fastest way around this track was near the bottom close to the apron. The outside line was nothing more than a wreck waiting to happen. The knicker was that if someone could run the outside line they would be a real threat in the long run.

I had to give Joey this much. His taste in music was prefect for racing at high speeds. The pounding drums and radical guitar refs were almost timed perfectly for taking the turns and judging the entrance for the straightaways.

For the next four laps I rocked out to the sounds of that song was enough to push me to greater speeds. Even Beth and the guys were having a hard time keeping up. They may have dropped in behind me once the green flag dropped but they were barely behind me in the draft. I knew that I could push my car to even closer to the edge.

Then it happened. On lap 48 the yellow flag came out for a single car wreck. I had been expecting to happen since lap 15 of the race. Deep back in the field Rokossovsky Aleskeevich from team Red Star blew a front tire. She slammed into the wall on turn 3. Then slide her way around to the exit of turn 4. I was already slowing down when the pace car pulled out on to the track to gather up the field. We crossed under the green/white checkered and yellow flag on before pit road was opened up for servicing. The only good part about the whole situation was that I won the stage.

I had no sooner pulled to a stop in my pit box then my pit crew was over the wall. They had my right side in the air in no time and the first can of fuel was being dumped into my car. I swear they were turning in another record-breaking pit stop. As I pulled away from my pit stall I took one last look at the stopwatch. I couldn’t believe what I saw and keyed my radio.

“Kathy is that time right?” I asked her.

“If you saw twelve-point-nine seconds you’re not crazy.”

“Holy crap! What have they being doing? Training in their sleep?” I asked her.

“Just about. Mom has been driving the pit crews to faster and faster practice times. At the beginning of the season, she made a comment about placing bets on which team could turn in the best time.”

“How high is the beating pool?” I asked her quickly.

“The current pot is somewhere around eight-hundred-and-fifty bucks. Mom set a cap of ten bucks for any beat.”

“What are the requirements for the beats?” I asked with nasty thought.

“Fast time to the nearest five-tenths of second. Whoever gets the closest time wins the pot. So far Danny had been the biggest winner. If no one wins then the pot rolls over to the next race.”

“Can the drivers get in on the poll?” I really wanted to get on the action. It sounded like it would be fun.

“Sorry Bobbie. Pit and garage crew only. That’s one of the rules. No drivers allowed not even by proxy. Even if I wanted to place a beat for you mom wouldn’t allow it.”

“Well damn. Where’s the fun in that?” I grumbled. Though I could understand the rule. A driver can make or break a pit stop. One mistake on the part of the driver could cost a pit crew valuable seconds.

“Heads up Bobbie. This go around they’re dropping the green flag.”

“Copy that Kathy. By the way what’s the word on Aleskeevich?” I asked her.

“Nothing yet Bobbie. I do know that the rescue team had to help her out of her car. The ambulance crew too her straight to the infield medical center. I did see them placing her left arm in a brace before moving her.”

“Not good. If they’ve already braced her arm. Then they’re worried about a broken bone or dislocated joint. Hope she’s okay.” I radioed back.

“I’ll get with her spotter and give you a report on her condition. Right now, you need to get ready to go back to racing. They’ll be dropping the green flag on the next lap.” Kathy warned me just as the pace car turned off its warning lights.

As it pulled off the track at the entrance to pit road. The flag man waved the green flag. Once more I shift gears and stepped down on the throttle. With no one in front of me. I had a clear shot for the inside line around the track. Once again the other three drivers for MRI fell in behind me. This time though the order was slightly deferent. Directly behind me was Sam then Beth with Jim bringing up the rear of our line. Before we even hit the exit to turn 2 we were pulling away from the rest of the field. This race was quickly becoming a repeat of our successes earlier in the season. I just needed to make to the halfway point in the lead.

Dad, Chief Hailee, and the others were watching the weather radar hard. We all knew that today’s race won’t go the full distance. The only good news so far was that both me and Chief Slone were wrong on our calculations. We were actually getting close to 30 laps for our fuel window and 27 laps for our tires. That was the only good news though. We may be getting more laps between pits stops, but the handling of our cars was slowly slipping away over those laps. That was the bad news.

The longer we pushed our cars the harder it was to handle them at full speed in the draft. For the next ten laps things went as planned. Then on lap 63 a yellow flag came out for a two-car wreck at the back of the field. I was expecting the wreck to happen but not when it happened. We drove two more laps under yellow before pit road opened. I didn’t even think twice and headed in for four fresh tires and fuel. Once again my pit crew turned in their normal 13second pit stop.

Once we were back out on the track and lined up Kathy gave the lowdown on the two cars involved in the wreck. “It was Seth Fisher from Bisbee Snider and Marc Wimmer of Thunder Valley this time Bobbie. It seems that Fisher blew a tire and turned down in front of Wimmer. The good part about the wreck was it happened at the end of the pack on the front straightaway.”

“Either of them get hurt?” I asked her.

“They were out of their cars with no problems. They’ve already been released from the infield care center. Speaking of drivers being released from the care center. They sent Aleskeevich to the hospital. Looks like she’ll be out for the rest of the season. She’s going to need surgery to repair her broken arm.”

“How bad was it broken?” I asked her.

“According to her spotter it is broken in three places. All clean breaks which is the good news. It’ll still take her out of the points race though. I should have more information for you by lap eighty.”

“Thanks Kathy. If I haven’t said it lately. Thank you for all your hard work. I couldn’t do this without you.” I told her honestly.

“Forget about Bobbie. It’s my job to keep you out the wrecks when I can. Point you towards the right line when you needed it. Warn you when someone is getting stupid near you. Finally let you know when it is time to pit.” Kathy chuckled. “Speaking of my job I forgot one important part. Keeping track of the lap count.”

“How many more laps until we reach the halfway point?” I quickly asked.

“Not counting this yellow flag lap eighteen more to go. Which will end in about fifteen seconds. Get ready to drop the hammer Bobbie. Once you’re clear of the rest of the field don’t look back.”

“Gotcha Kathy. I guess it is time for that song.” I pulled out my iPod on the back straightaway and keyed up a particular song. “Kathy relay this to the others.”

“You got it Bobbie. Setting up the team relay now. On my mark hit the button.”

“Copy that Kathy.” I told her as I slipped my iPod back into my breast pocket. We rounded turns 3 and 4. Kathy began her countdown.

“THREE! TWO! ONE! HIT IT!”

I hit the play button through my leathers and grabbed the shifter. To the sounds of AC/DC’s Thunderstruck roared across our team radio network. Beth was the first to say anything as I dove for the inside line at full throttle.

“TIME TO ROCK!” Beth screamed over the music.

“Don’t hold back! Go for broke!” Sam yelled.

“Drop the hammer baby girl!” Dad shouted over the radio.

“GO! Bobbie! GO!” Jim shouted out behind him.

We powered across the start/finish line driving as if the very hounds of hell were nipping at our heels. As we entered turn 1 Beth pulled in tight to my rear bumper. As she did this Sam pulled in tight behind Jim. As we exited turn 2 they had dropped down behind Beth. On the back straightaway the four of us started to pull away from the rest of the pack once again. With my teammates pushing me we reached all new speeds. When we exited turn 4 onto the front straightaway we hit 215mhp. As Phil Rudd pounded out the beat on his drums Angus Young, Stevie Young, and bassist Cliff Williams cut lose with hard driving guitar riffs. While Brain Johnson’s vocals spoke to my very soul. I wasn’t the only one affected by the song. Beth, Sam, and Jim were pushing themselves to drive even faster.

Nothing was going to stop me today but the weather. This race and the win was mine. I hadn’t planned on running the race this way. I just didn’t care right now. For some reason I had to have this win. I wanted the inaugural lightning bolt trophy for the Berlin Blitz 500 in a major way. No, I knew the reason I want that three-foot-tall, twenty-five-pound trophy. It was going in the main welcoming lobby of HELIOS Kinderklinik. That was the promise I made to those kids.

On lap 80 the first crack of thunder rolled across the speedway. I knew that the ISA officials would soon be calling the race. I keyed the radio. “Heads up people. We got four to five more laps before the rain hits.”

“We might not get even that Bobbie. I’m looking at the radar map of the surrounding area. Berlin is already getting hammered by unusually heavy rainfall for this time of the year. Keeping pushing your cars kids.” Dad ordered over the radio.

With that order I pushed my car even further towards the edge of its performance envelope. I was going to show the world not just those fools from the old Mercedes-Benz design what kind of a car MRI can build. Especially when we’re left the fuck alone to do our jobs. My job was to drive the cars of MRI. Dad’s job was to build the cars. Mom’s job was to design those cars. It doesn’t matter who wants to take us on. We will put them all in their places.

McGuire Racing International was no longer the small mom and pop racing design firm from three years ago. We were now a force of nature in the world of automotive racing. Today’s win was going to prove that point once and for all. I had heard the rumblings in the garage area by the other teams. Too many of them thought that our wins at the beginning of the season as nothing more than flukes and luck. We needed to prove them wrong today. To drive the point home that we were the ones that they should fear. That none of our wins were flukes or by luck.

Even as we pushed our cars to their breaking point we were pulling away from the rest of the field. By lap 85 the rain still hadn’t started. We were also just over the halfway point of the race. That was the good news. The bad news was the handling of our cars was starting to slip. With each progressive lap our tires were wearing out. Much faster now that the track had a solid layer of rubber. The other kicker was the middle and outside lines had finally come in to their fullest. There was a good possibility that a team could use those two lines to threaten our led.

It would all depend on if the other drivers could team up. Hopefully it will take the other drivers time to figure out the threat those two lines presented. Then on lap 89 the first drops of rain hit my windshield. I grinned the race was over, and I had won. I kept my speed up until the yellow flag came out on lap 92. We drove three more laps before the red flag came out on lap 95. As we crossed over the entrance to pit road the rain started to come down in bucks. We pulled to a stop in our running order. We had no sooner stopped than our pit crews were coming over the wall with our tarps. It took me a few seconds to climb out of my car.

As I was running for the pit box I felt a twinge in my lower back. When I got to the wall Chief Hailee was there to help me over. “I saw that flinch and grimace Bobbie. Are you alright? Do you need to go to the infield care center?”

“I’m fine Chief. My back is just acting up is all.” I grumbled as he helped me over the wall and under the pit box shelter. “That damned wreck at Silverstone is still causing me problems.”

“Okay kiddo. What the hell does that mean?” Chief Hailee demanded.

“Don’t tell mom or the others. The docs told that the chemo affected more than just my growth and appearance. It also screwed with my muscles and joints. If they’re right by the time I turn thirty I’ll be forced to retire because of arthritis.” I know that I was taking a chance by telling him this, but he was my Crew Chief.

“I think I understand. With every wreck you run the chance of accelerating your arthritis. I’ll start working on a way to minimize your risks.” Chief Hailee told me as he patted me on the shoulder. “We’ll start with reinforcing your seat. I look into a new restraint harness design for you. One that won’t put so much pressure on your lower back and shoulders.”

“Thanks Chief. Can you do me a favor and not tell the others about this.” I looked back out the now rain-soaked track. “I want to drive for as long as I can before the docs force me to retire.”

“Have you told Kelly about this yet Bobbie?” He asked me kindly. When I shook my head no he sighed. “Damned hardhead. Alright I’ll keep this between us. For now, but the moment I think you’ve pushed things too far. I’m telling Kelly.”

“Okay Chief Hailee. I’ll tell her after the victory diner tonight.” I promised him just as a bolt of lighting followed quickly by a clap of thunder filled the air. “Looks like the gods of speed are going to hold me to that promise.”

“More like the Demons of Speed have witnessed your promise Bobbie.” Chief Hailee chuckled with a friendly smile. “But I do believe you’re right about the victory diner. If this downpour keeps up for another ten minutes the ISA will have to call the race. There’s no way the track drying crews will be able to get the track back to race conditions safely in time to continue the race before nightfall.”

His words were punctuated by another flash of lightning and clap of thunder. I looked towards the direction of oncoming storm. The horizon was as dark as night and mean as a pissed off gator. “I don’t think it’ll be that long before the race gets called for severe weather.”

As if summoned by my words the arena speakers crackled. “Achtung, meine Damen und Herren. Aufgrund des schlechten Wetters. Das heutige Rennen wurde ausgerufen. Unsere Gewinnerin ist Mrs. Roberta McGuire von MRI. Der zweite Platz geht an Sam Hurley mit Beth Towers auf dem dritten und Jim Fields auf dem vierten Platz.”

As the speakers continued to blare the race results Danny walked over to me smiling. “They’ve called the race due to the inclement weather. You’re the winner Bobbie. Second place goes to Sam with Beth in third and Jim in fourth. The ISA officials will be here in a few minutes to present the trophy.”

“Thanks Danny. I guess I need to make myself a little more present able.” I chuckled as I wiped the sweat from my forehead. I started to reach for pins that held my ponytail to the back of my head. Only to be stopped by mom.

“Leave your hair up Bobbie. No need to let the crowd think that you weren’t ready to step back into your car.” She told me as she handed me a bottle of water and two aspirin with a wink. “For your ‘headache’.”

“Thanks mom.” I told her as I took the aspirin and water. “I promise to fill you and dad in on everything later.”

“We already know, sweetheart. Remember your doctors have to send us report on your physical condition for racing.” Mom whispered in my ear as she hugged with a smile. “Don’t worry we won’t pull you from the roster until we are force to.”

“Thanks mom. I’ll spend sometime in the hotel’s hot tub before the party.” I assured her before turning to face the ISA officials as they arrived. I spent the next five minutes with the trackside reporter giving a fast interview. Then the officials present me the Chrome Lightning Bolt. As I raised it over my head in victory I wondered if I could have ran the full 500 miles and still won. Not that I was going to bitch. A win is a win. No matter how it comes about.

“Fräulien McGuire during your acceptance of the trophy you said something about this trophy being for the Children of HELIOS Kinderklinik. Would you care to explain that for our audience?” The trackside reporter asked.

“Let’s just say that I was keeping a promise I made. Have a good day Herr Reinhart.” I told him with a smile and walked away. I knew that my cryptic answer would drive the man and the fans crazy with curiosity. Not that it would matter to me. I love my fans, but the time I spend with the kids on the cancer and terminal illness ward of the children’s hospitals was a personal matter. One that I would guard with every ounce of my very being. No one, and I do mean no one, was ever going to use my privet visits to those kids as a publicity stunt to promote their own agenda.

Kelly met me at the bus with a smile and hug. “Great win love. You drove like you were possessed out there today.”

“I got to say Bobbie. I’ve seen you drive on TV before and at Indiana but none of that prepared me for what I saw out there today. I couldn’t believe the speeds you and the other MRI drivers were pulling down today. Do you know what your top speed was during the race?” Sue asked with the excitement of the newly converted fan.

“According to Kathy my fastest lap was one-minute-twelve-seconds at two-hundred-eighteen miles per hour. I think that will be a track record for a few years.” I answered with a mile-wide grin. “What do you think?”

-----tbc-----