COLLISION COURSE - Lando Norris [ff]

Six

When Christina had started her racing career at the young age of four, it took her about seven years to realize that there was much more to it than just getting into a car and driving. Analyzing data, meetings to catch up with the engineers, discussing strategies, giving interviews and in addition to all of it- trying not to crash into the barriers or other drivers. Yet, racing was her favorite part of this job. Feeling the adrenaline rush through her veins, a throbbing tingle in the pit of her stomach that heated her blood and spread its power throughout her whole body. Taking corners at an insane speed of 170 kph made her feel alive, as if every second before and every second after were just build-ups for the next apex. She had never loved anything more than getting into her car, wrapping her fingers around the handles of the steering wheel and feeling the G forces push her into the seat, against the metal of the chassis and just flooring the throttle on the straights without giving it second thought. Hearing the engine roar, watching the grandstands fly by in her sideview mirrors and catching up to the driver in front. Her eyes locking with the rear of the car, seeing the next corner getting closer in her peripheral vision while calculating the distance between her front wing and the engine she was seeing- the image torn into two pieces by the halo's center strut.

Christina felt her hands automatically pull over, placing her car next to her colleague's. The corner was hers and he could not even react. She turned the steering wheel and left the blue car behind even before her rear wing had closed again.

"Great work, Chris! That was Gasly. Next up is Lando in seventh position," her engineer announced on the radio, and she responded with a simple, "Copy."

Lando had overtaken her before. When the race started, she had lost four positions while the McLaren driver had gained three. She had problems with her drive shaft after harshly hitting a curb coming out of the fourth corner.
When her grandfather- who loved racing nearly as much as her- still attended her races in the early years and gave her tips afterwards, he would always point out that she hit the track limits a bit too rough in certain parts, especially when the braking point was later than she like it.

"You are 1.74 seconds behind. 1.74 seconds behind Norris," she heard through her in-ears and pushed the button to respond to the box with her right thumb, "Copy. Where is Nyck?"

Her teammate had been lagging behind, fighting with Albon outside of the points for twelfth place.

"Still in position thirteen. Albon is 0.62 seconds in front. You are free to push. I repeat, free to push," her engineer informed her of the current conditions behind.
Nyck was an amazing driver who had enough talent to compete not only with her- who started the Formula One career much earlier- but also to get the best out of the AlphaTauri. They had developed an incredible empathy for each other especially since Red Bull could be cruel on its drivers. The expectations were even higher than the stakes, and a good friend's backing was worth more than every single one of the thousands that the team put into them.

"You are now 1.53 seconds behind," she got updated and took the next corner.

Racing was much more talkative than she had imagined it to be at first. There was a constant exchange of information between her and the people on the pit wall who needed her to explain every yet so slight problem with immense detail.

"How is my drive shaft?" Christina asked when focussing on the main straight where they started and would finish the race in about fifteen laps.

"I am not seeing any issues at the moment." The experienced engineer provided her with the analysis of the many diagrams, colored images and numbers that covered the many screens in front of him, "How does it feel?"

"Not too bad. I am feeling some imbalance though," she answered and waited for the man on the other side to take a closer look at the mathematics behind the whole sport. Everything that happened on track depended on correct evaluation of the weather conditions, statistics and strategies of other teams. No one has ever won a race without a strong and practiced team in the back that not only knows how to design an outstanding car but how to deal with enormous pressure that came with those infamous Sundays.