This is a work of fiction. All the characters and incidents portrayed and the names used herein are fictitious and any similarity to the names, characters, or history of any persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and unintentional. Even when recognisable names appear, their actions are fictitious. This book is unofficial and is not associated in any way with the Formula One group of companies. F1, FORMULA ONE, FORMULA 1, FIA FORMULA ONE WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP, GRAND PRIX and related marks are trademarks of Formula One Licensing B.V.
This ebook edition published in 2016
ISBN 9781910050941
Arcadia Books Ltd
139 Highlever Road
London W10 6PH
First published in the United Kingdom by Arcadia Books 2016
Copyright © Toby Vintcent, 2016
Toby Vintcent has asserted his moral right to be identified as the author of this work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the written permission of the publishers. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This Ebook edition published in 2016
ISBN 978-1-910050-94-1
Typeset in Garamond by MacGuru Ltd.
For Anne-Marie and Sammy.
Dedicated to my parents.
About the Formula
The Formula referred to in this story is a fictional composite. While it includes authentic elements used by the FIA over the last few years, no similarity with any given year's Formula should be looked for or expected.
ONE
They were screaming along the Île Notre-Dame, bathed in unbroken Montreal sun as they ran down the Casino Straight beside the Saint Lawrence River. Both Formula One cars hit 210 miles an hour, the gap no bigger or smaller than it had been for the last five laps. Just feet apart. Remy Sabatino, tucked right up behind the race leader, was getting ready…
The challenger was watching Yegor Baryshnikov like a hawk – already thinking ahead to Turns Thirteen and Fourteen, looming in 700 metres.
Sabatino's heart and breathing rates were up. There was a tactical balance to be struck, here: declare too soon and Baryshnikov would be forewarned and able to take defensive action. Leave it too late and he might not react at all, as he might not have to.
Now!
Sabatino dived out from behind Baryshnikov – to the left, clearly stating an intention down that-hand side. Almost as a flinch Baryshnikov reacted, darting that way himself – to head Sabatino of – to block the challenge.
The moment the race leader reacted to the move, Sabatino lifted off – for a fraction of a second. Even with the foot off the power for a moment, the front end of the Ptarmigan dipped slightly, the drag fractionally gaining the upper hand. At exactly the same time Sabatino swung the steering wheel across to the right, the car's front wing sweeping rapidly from left to right behind the car in front, almost brushing its rear tyres. Immediately it was clear, Sabatino floored the throttle once again – aiming to dive the car down the other side of the race leader.
Seven hundred and fifty horsepower exploded out through the gearbox and rear tyres into the surface of the track.
The Ptarmigan's chance now lay in lunging down the right-hand side of Baryshnikov's car.
Three hundred metres to run.
Sabatino willed the car to give its all.
Baryshnikov was only allowed a single defensive move against an overtaking manoeuvre. By launching that feint to the left, Sabatino had forced him to make his one and only permitted retaliation. On their current line, Sabatino should now have the space to be unchallenged into this corner.
Two hundred metres.
Sabatino was drawing level.
Who would earn the right to the line?
Who would brake first?
Sabatino's nerve, line and speed would have to be held right into the corner.
The other car twitched; a tell that Baryshnikov wanted to start turning in, to start setting up for the chicane – except he absolutely did not want to brake sooner than Sabatino … as that could only concede the position.
There was a momentous jolt – the cars banged together.
Through peripheral vision – to the left – Sabatino suddenly caught sight of rapid movement. Baryshnikov was wrestling with his steering wheel – he seemed to be wrestling aggressively with his car. Was he veering away? Clear air opened up between him and Sabatino – which was all the challenger needed.
Now!
