Turbulence [𝗠.𝗩.]

Spain, Pre-Race

PADDOCK RUMOUR: Alpine and Williams looking to lodge a complaint to the FIA about Jaguar's inclusion this year after previously being on board with it. - @PaddockRumourMill

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SPAIN
7TH RACE WEEKEND OF THE SEASON
JUNE

The prototype compounds set to replace the current C1s at Silverstone don't seem all that different from a first look. I'll find out how they feel, though, since we will run them for most of the first two practice sessions. Sometimes it's nice to be allowed to use prototype compounds, since they don't come out of our allotment of tyres for the weekend.

We're also one of many teams to be testing out new front wings. Bringing them in at Monaco wouldn't have worked at all, the narrow, winding streets don't give much for the front wings to use, because we have to take the track so damn slowly compared to purpose-built race tracks.

The ugly-looking aero rakes are being fitted behind my front wheels as I clamber into the cockpit, adjusting myself to make sure I'm sitting as comfortably as possible before I sort out my steering wheel, which is also new. A few buttons have been moved, to make it easier to reach them without having to stretch my thumb or take my hand off the wheel entirely. The strat and other setting dials are smaller but brighter. All in all, not a bad change, and hopefully I can adapt to it quickly.

The chicane has been removed this year, which benefits me since that's my weakness, but it does have a drawback of the speed stressing the tyres further. At the very least, this is likely to be a two-stop race come Sunday. Or a three-stop one, if I fuck things up.

Within a few testing laps, I'm definitely feeling comfortable with the new steering wheel. It's easier to manage, and I'm not having to double-check because my thumb has slipped and missed a button.

But it doesn't take long to hit a snag; turn 10 makes the car bounce. It's not new to this track, but it's a potential health hazard for me and maybe a nightmare for the car's performance if it goes unchecked.

"Getting jumping around turn ten. Very minor, but it's not pleasant."

"Copy, we're looking into it."

The team end up having to make adjustments to the car, ending my FP1 session early. I can't get back out until FP2, however the wait ends up being worth it. There's still some minor porpoising, but it's barely affecting my driving. The rain threatens to fall, yet it doesn't until the third session the next day.

Everything looks set to go well by the time qualifying rolls around... until I am called over to our hospitality unit by worried-looking Olivia. For a brief moment, I worry it's about the thing I've been trying to keep out of my active mind.

Before I can get an answer out of her as to what's going on, I see the communications team sitting with Oliver again. I just know by the look on their faces that we're on the cusp of some kind of PR nightmare, or some shit is about to hit the fan at another team and we're at risk of getting blowback from it. Is it because of that?

I sit down next to Mick, the two of us sharing a confused look, while Henrik speaks first.

"Alpine are gunning for us again. Otmar's not getting the desired results, despite being in sixth place. Williams has joined in since they haven't been able to get off the ground at all. They're taking aim at the FIA as well."

Fuck.

I'm not an idiot. I know what this all comes back to: our team being included as the eleventh F1 team, and the goddamn engine.

"What are they saying?" Mick leans forward, all focus, far more prepared than I am.

"Currently, Williams are saying that the change in the points system isn't enough. It proves that we shouldn't have been accepted, and they've changed their mind about whether there really is enough room for twenty-two drivers on the grid." Henrik pauses to sigh, looking between us two drivers. "Alpine have a goal of fourth in the championship. Otmar's still worrying over his job, if rumours are to be believed. The upper management have finished with their shuffling, and now he's next on the chopping block."

"So he's attacking us over the engine again?" I don't doubt it's the damn engine again.

"And over how competitive we've been for a first season."

"Fuck sake..." I grumble, leaning back. Mick looks at me, shrugging his shoulders. He's certainly taking this better

"So we keep racing. They are mad they can't keep up, let them stay mad." Mick gestures vaguely between the two of us, and I'm inclined to agree. I'm here to fucking race, not get caught up in shitstorms because Team Principals feel threatened by our existence.

"It's not that simple, Mick. We have to be prepared for another round of what you'll consider to be pointless questions."

I sit forward, to interject. I'm so tired of this shit. It's been the same old crap for what, two months? Three? I know I can't nip the problem in the bud but I want it over and done with. Qualifying isn't far off, I want to get my head in the right space for it.

"The points shit that Williams aren't happy about? Not our problem. We don't make the rules, that's up to the FIA. Otmar slinging shit about us having the Honda engine? Not our problem. We don't build the damn cars, we drive them. Can we go now?" I can tell my little muted outburst hasn't gone down well by the blank look on Oliver's face and the single raised right brow on Henrik's as he stares at me as though I've been shouting.

"She's right." God, I could kiss Mick for backing me up. "This is not for us to be dealing with over and over and over again. These are team politics, and we are here to drive. Our best answer to all this... nonsense, is to keep our position in the constructors' championship and keep pushing ourselves individually to do better."

Mick's words leave a good impact. Oliver sends us off with a wave, to get back to the garages so that we can work on our qualifying times. Mick and I leave without another word shared to the communications team, glad to be free of the remainder of the conversation. Our battles lie on the track, not in the boardrooms and back offices.

"What's your target for today?" I ask him, as we zip up our jumpsuits.

"Q1 or at least P14." Mick waves at someone in a Mercedes shirt as we walk. "What about you?"

"Same. Mateo thinks I should be making it to P10 at least on the regular, but Oliver wants to avoid Q3 knockouts where possible for the rest of the season." I shrug to try and indicate that I'm not too fussed about why. Mick nods in a nonverbal acknowledgement of it. "I'm more thankful we survived Monaco. Last time I was there, I put it in the wall at Tabac."

"Not as bad as what I did."

"I know, you've set a high bar, smashing a car into itty bitty pieces. Don't know if I'll be able to do one better."