As the king lowered the glasses, a smartly dressed aide appeared onto the quarterdeck from the large doors of the saloon.
She made her way across.
Discreetly, she attracted Quartano's attention.
‘Excuse me, sir – Your Majesty,’ she said addressing the king with a shallow but elegant curtsy. ‘Mr Quartano, I think you would want to know, sir: Mr Nazar is on Ptarmigan's video link – from the paddock. There's been a terrible accident … at the Grand Prix in Moscow.’
NINE
Lap six and the race order hadn’t changed, although everyone felt it was about to. The true speed differences – or delta – of the cars was threatening to tell.
Sabatino and her Ptarmigan were finding their mojo, with a near-perfect set-up for the Zhar-ptitsa track in that day's atmospheric conditions. She was gaining on Baryshnikov.
The two cars crossed the start/finish line. Running at full throttle, they pounded down to Turn One. Baryshnikov – braking late – kept his lead, and was through cleanly. So too was Sabatino, right behind him in P2.
They were now in the Gorbachev Straight.
Sabatino started to gain – little by little, inch by agonizing inch.
Turn Two, a left-right-left, was set in among a clump of trees. Powering through this mini-chicane, the two front-runners were cheered on by the packed grandstands to either side of the track. Sabatino's car, performing magnificently, was instantly responsive; front and rear were in exceptional balance, giving her a particularly fast exit from the chicane.
Baryshnikov, in the turquoise car in front, set himself up for the next corner. This time his line wasn’t so clean.
Sabatino smelled an opportunity.
Into the entry of Turn Four the gap was down to 75 metres, which – at 160 miles an hour – was nothing. She had already made her decision. She sensed the time was right. She was going to go for it. She would strike at the end of the Hermitage Straight, into Turn Eleven.
They exited Turn Four.
Sabatino kept pace as the track meandered through a sequence of two-dimensional, and then three-dimensional “S” bends.
Baryshnikov's line was no cleaner: his tightness through two of the apexes was slipping.
Sabatino pushed extra hard.
In no time they were entering the longest straight on the circuit, the half-mile section – named after the Imperial palace and world-famous Hermitage museum.
Sabatino was right on terms.
She was exactly where she wanted to be.
She was not letting Baryshnikov get away: her Ptarmigan's V6 screamed, pumping out as much power as she needed for her move. Sabatino ran up through the gears, hitting 18,000 revs on each upward change.
She got ready to set up her challenge.
First, she was going to cross over into Baryshnikov's slipstream – to get a tow – to take advantage of the hole the race leader's car was already punching through the air. That reduction in drag would allow her to close up even closer behind him. Then, at the last minute, she was going to make her move to overtake. She wasn’t going to dive down the left-hand side, which Baryshnikov would expect into a left-hand corner – she was going out wide to the right.
Sabatino would have to time her move, though – waiting until Baryshnikov had fully committed to the corner. The moment he did, slicing left – hugging the racing line to the inside, the fastest route through the corner – Sabatino would set about going round his outside. She had no expectation of getting past Baryshnikov here – through Turn Eleven. Her aim was to get on terms with Baryshnikov by the time she emerged through the exit of this corner. If she managed that, ideally ending up side by side with him as they straightened up, Sabatino would automatically have the advantage of being on the inside line for the next turn, Turn Twelve – crucially a right-hander. That was where her business would get done. She would make her move to get by him – there – and take the lead.
Sabatino breathed deeply, preparing herself for the first part of her plan.
Timing was everything.
Wait!
Wait…
NOW!
Her Ptarmigan responded instantaneously. She moved straight across to the left, into the dirty air of Baryshnikov's Ptarmigan. Almost immediately she felt a reduction in drag. In no time, it allowed her to close right in – right up behind the race leader, practically able to touch Baryshnikov's rear wing. Her heart rate soared.
Two hundred metres to run.
The corner – the sweeping left-hander – was looming.
Wait!
Sabatino waited for the split-second moment to time the next part of her move. She had to see the car in front commit itself to the corner first. Only when Baryshnikov had turned in to the lefthander – and could no longer take defensive action against her manoeuvre – would she make her move.
Wait!
Wait!
What if he left it too late? She would be denied the chance – she wouldn’t have enough leeway within the confines of the track.
Wait?
Baryshnikov suddenly changed direction.
