Turbulence [𝗠.𝗩.]

Belgium, Race Day

"It's going to be a very interesting race. They've had nil preparation on full tanks of fuel because of the wet running on Friday morning, because of the sprint shootout and sprint race... They'll be using experience and a little bit of guestimation"

⸻

BELGIUM
12TH RACE OF THE SEASON
JULY

Get fucked, I think as I fly into the first corner on the formation lap.

Yesterday was a joke. Rain delayed the shootout and the sprint itself, which was just... poorly handled. We spent four or five laps behind the safety car on full wets, and then we all hit the pits as it came in, making the eleven-lap sprint a chaotic mess of unsafe releases. Still, Mick and I bagged some points, so we can't complain.

As I reach my place on the grid, my confidence is up there in the clouds again. This track isn't as scary as my mind kept making it out to be. I won't crash here. I'm not going to have a repeat of last year. Not if I can help it, at least.

Max lines up in the P6 spot beside me. I turn my head to look over at him and flip him the bird quickly. His head moves back - I think he's laughing - and he returns the gesture. We both turn away from each other, as all closeness evaporates. We're not Jess and Max anymore. We are competitors.

He's just Verstappen now.

And I am going to try to fight him.

The lights come on... and as they turn off, I hit the throttle, moving over to block Verstappen. The fucker sneaks past me and gets ahead. He slips past a Ferrari - Sainz - who has a brief lock-up that I can't use to my advantage, but I can get past Piastri easily; he's moving ridiculously slow. He must have taken damage. Perhaps he and Piastri clipped each other. Hopefully Sainz has damage and needs to pit.

We settle in for the long haul - this is a 44-lap race, but that doesn't mean it's a short one.

"Give me a rundown, guys. Who is where?"

"Ricciardo, Leclerc, Hamilton, Verstappen, Sainz. Behind you: Alonso, Norris, Tsunoda."

"Keep me updated on Alonso. He's the threat."

"Agreed."

Yellow flags come up for two sectors; they're double-waved. We have to go slowly, but it gives me a good view of a stranded Oscar Piastri. His front wing doesn't look great. He's right by the service road, though, so it won't take them long to clear... and it doesn't. Lap 3, green flags, and DRS enabled.

"Sainz has damage."

"Bit obvious. I'm gonna get him." He's losing pace, badly. I might not even need to use DRS. I'm all over him, fighting at every turn. He has to put himself in the way of my attacking moves to keep me at bay, but it doesn't last long. I get him at the straight. Alonso will get past him soon enough if they can't adjust the settings to fix the—

Nevermind. Alonso is in my mirrors.

I start to put my foot down more as we get to Lap 5 and there's a fleeting thought of panic when my car gains a minor bit of air as I reach the top of that hill; but I tell it to fuck off, with far more ferocity. There is no room for fear. Not today. I'm busy hunting a Dutchman.

He's not making it easy for me. He breaks my attempts to get into his slipstream, and he keeps his foot down for as long as he can, trying to extend the gap between us.

"He's fucking fast. What's the plan here?"

"Plan A."

"Copy."