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Total number of drivers 40. Number of company teams 10. Number of tracks 20. Number of countries 12. Time frame 6 months. Number of Fallen Angels hooked on speed 2. The McGuire sisters are and they’re out for blood in the newly founded International Stockcar Racing Association. After two years driving the Formula One circuit Professional Drivers Roberta Bobbie McGuire and her sister Elisabeth ‘Beth’ McGuire have made real names for themselves. The two young ladies took the world by storm in their first year by placing 3rd and 4th in the Championship points race. Now their plans and dreams of starting in the International Stockcar Association have come to fruition. The Fury twins plan to prove to the world they belong in Stockcar Racing. And they don’t care who they have to put into the wall to bring home the inaugural championship.

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Chapter 8
Saturday, Mitsubishi Speedway, Chiba, Japan 1650

I stood next to my car signing the last few autographs before pit road was cleared of spectators. My hope for rain the night before had been flushed down the drain. I woke to clear skies and still calm winds. Not a cloud in the sky or even on the radar. The Dragon had already reared her head today during qualifying. I had to laugh when I first heard that nickname last night at dinner. Yet it seems that the Japanese drivers were the ones to name the track after hearing compare it to Dover speedway, the Monster Mile.

As I was signing my name in kanji for a young girl about 14 or 15 Danny waved to get my attention. “Enjoy the race little one.”

The girl smiled and thanked me while bowing. She and her older brother hurried off to find their seats in the grandstands. I couldn’t help but smile as she talked her brother’s ear off as they walked away. I may know enough Japanese to order a taxi, get something to eat, and a beer at the local bar. But I was nowhere near proficient enough to even guess at what they were talking about. Not that it mattered. I could tell by the way they were talking that she was excited about the first ISA racing in Japan.

“Okay boss, enough sucking up to the fans. It’s almost time to mount up.” Danny told me as he handed me my helmet. Danny leaned in close so that only I could hear him. “Bobby, I think you should know. You and others have been targeted by a few of the other teams.”

“Nothing new, Danny. When haven’t I pissed off some jackass?” I whispered back. “By the way. How did you find about the new shitheads?”

“The pit crews were down here early as usual. So, we eat over at the track in field canteen. We ran into two of the teams from Bisbee Snider and one the Prototype Outcast teams. We got to talking. The guys from Bisbee Snider let it drop that Bobby Parker from Reynolds and Ben Baldwin from Horn Thomas are gunning for you. They’re blaming you guys for their shitty luck in the last two races. Said something about not letting any of you finish the race today.” Danny told me honestly.

“Any idea if there are others gunning for us?” I asked my jackman.

“If I had to place money on someone else wanting to get in on the action. I would say Bargboer, Hartman from Northern Alliance along with Grigorievna, Fyodorovich from Red Star.” Danny told me bluntly.

“Any chances of those fuck bunnies teaming up to come after us?” I asked.

“Doubtful. Their egos are too damned big for them to work with other teams. If it someone from Thunder valley or King Night that would be another story. Those two teams don’t let egotistical ass wipes on their teams.” Danny grunted before he started to chuckle. “They also don’t allow for personal grudges with other teams. By the way I got my money on Sukejuro and Parker picking up where they left off at Daytona. Only this time they’ll be trading paint on the track before the tenth lap.”

“Where are they in the starting grid?” I asked quickly.

“Sukejuro has the fourteenth position in row seven. Parker is in seventeenth position on row nine.” Danny said with a sly smile. “The long money says they’ll let things go and forget about Daytona.”

“Put me down for twenty that they’ll get into on lap twenty-one.” As I told Danny where to place my bet in the pool. I thought about the two men. Sukejuro may not have a massive ego, but he was the descendant of a samurai. As for Parker he is your typical good-old boy from Atlanta Georgia. “Trust me Danny those two are going to tangle again before this day is done.”

“You’re preaching to the choir Bobbie. That redneck isn’t going to let last week go and neither is that crazy sake driver.” Danny chuckled. “You know something Bobbie. Even when you were racing against those nutjobs in Formula One. None of them were anywhere near as hardcore as this bunch.”

“I have to disagree with you Danny. It’s just a different kind of hardcore.” I corrected him. “The drivers in Formula One are frowned upon if they go trading paint. Here we’re kind of expected to bump, and grind.”

“I get it boss. Different styles of racing. Different expectations.” Danny said as he looked down the starting lineup. “Looks like its time Bobbie.”

I looked to where he was starring. More than a few of the drivers were climbing into their cars. “Give me a hand here Danny.”

“You know something Bobbie, one of these days you need to learn how to do climb into these cars on your own.” Danny chuckled as he helped me slide in through the driver side widow. There are times like now that I hate being the shortest person on the team with the exception of my spotter Kathy.

“You can bite my ass Danny. I can get out the damned car just fine. Hell, I can even beat the time requirement.” I snarled as I slide in through the window. “That is all that matters.”

As Danny chuckled at my bitching, I knew I had been punked. I just sighed. “You know something Danny. One of these days I’m going to strap your ass in behind this steering wheel.”

“Not on your life Bobbie.” Danny turned deadly serious. “I can drive a normal car just fine. I have no desire to drive at more than the posted speed limits. That takes a special kind of guts that few have. You, and the other drivers out here are a rare breed. Never forget that. Now get your head in the game. The Dragon is waiting for someone to get careless.”

With that Danny pulled up the window safety net. I just chuckled as I put in my earbuds and finish getting ready for the race. Of all the people on my team, Danny Hailee is the most down to earth. He was also one of the five people that could call me on my bullshit and get away with it come race time. If he even thought my head wasn’t in the game. He would pull my ass out of the car and have no problems doing it.

Once I was ready, I waited for those four words that have fueled my every waking moments on days like this. “DRIVERS! START! YOUR! ENGINES!”

I flip the two battery switches and push the starter button. The sound of the massive V-8 engine as it fired over fueled my soul. I knew that I would soon be rolling down pit road. I have to admit that I’m not happy with my position in the starting lineup. I on row 15 in the 29th pole position. Beth was two rows behind me on row 17 in the 34th pole position. Sam and Jim did better in qualifying. They’re holding down the 23rd and 24th pole position on row 12. My team is spread out in the field with no way to support each other. Our worst-case scenario for a race. All of our whole race strategy is based on a team dynamic.

As we round turn 2 onto the back straightaway Kathy radios in. “Bobbie, I know you don’t want to hear this, but the race officials have leveled a last-minute penalty against you. You have to drop back to the end of the pack.”

“What the hell? What penalty?” I demanded.

“All I know is that it was a last-minute decision. Something about a competition handicap petition filed by one of the other teams. Who did you go pissing off this time?”

“Nobody. At least I don’t think so.” I admitted then thought about what Danny had told me just before the race. “I got a feeling that our friends over at Bisbee Snider have been twisting the facts.”

“I wouldn’t put it passed them to try something Bobby. BS has been the number one bitcher about your success on the last two tracks.” Kathy warned me. “They’ve also got more reasons than most to file a competition handicap.”

“Damn. That has to be what’s going on. I swear. This is one rule that I wish they would have thrown out. Now that the Commissioners have agreed to the first competition handicap every team will be using them.” I bitched.

“I doubt it Bobbie. Before you go bitching just fall out of line and drop back to the end of the outside line then listen to me.” I did as Kathy told me. I didn’t want to piss off the ISA Commissioners. The one and only rule that I fought against is now being used to kick me in the ass. “They may have thought that they’re putting you at a disadvantage, but they’ve actually helped you out. Trust me.”

“How?” I had to hear this as the rest of the field pulled pass me.

“The field is going to break down into three packs by the end of the seventh lap. The breakaway pack is going to consist of the first six positions. The second and main pack will be seventh down through twenty to twenty-fifth positions. The trail pack will be everybody else and will be the safest place for the first two stages of the race.”

That is when it hit me. Kathy has spotted something already. “Where and when is it going to happen Kathy?”

“It’ll happen twice Bobbie. Halfway through the first stage, then again about the same time in the second stage. By stage three more than half the field is going to be either out of the race totally or down by at least ten laps.”

“How do you figure that Kathy?” I know that she must have figured out what all four of our Chiefs, dad, and mom hadn’t.

“I watched the other teams during their practices and qualifying runs. None of them understand the idea of throttle management. Sometime around lap thirteen to fourteen someone is going to push their worn-out tires to the edge and bang. Tire blows out, car goes sideways taking with them one or two other cars. Next thing you’ll see is the pinball effect.”

Damn. Kathy was right. Some of these drivers are still figuring out pack racing. Someone will make those mistakes. Push their car too hard on worn-out tires at the wrong time and place. Sadly, there’ll be more than one driver out here that will make those mistakes. A feeling of deep dread filled me down to my bones. “Kathy, have you passed on your thoughts to your mother and the other spotters?”

“Already have, Bobbie. I did that this morning during our racing brief before you guys got down to the track. I noticed the way that the other teams were pushing their cars and brought it to the attention of my mom, and the other spotters. One way or another the best thing that you and the others can do is drop to the back of the pack for the first two stages of the race.”

“That may be true Kathy, but we’ll never win from the back of the field. Sooner or later we’ll need to move to the front.” I figured that I needed to point out the biggest hole in her strategy.

“Trust me, Bobbie. That won’t be a problem. The yellow flags will come and give you the opening you’ll all need. Especially late in the last stage.” Kathy assured me.

“Okay Kathy I’ll play the waiting game.” I told her then put in my own qualifier. “But if I see an opening.”

“Then take it and don’t hold back. Because if you get out front all bets are off. Bobbie no one is going to be happy with you winning a third in a row. They’ve already use that damned competition handicap against you. Heads up Bobbie. They’re going to drop the green flag next time around.”

“Thanks Kathy. I really want to get this race over with. I hate these late afternoon starts.” I know that I was bitching but I had good reason. The track is going to go through a transition halfway through the race. If what Kathy was telling was even halfway true, not only will I be fighting my way through the pack during the race. I would also be fighting for grip throughout the race well into the night.

“We’ll deal with the changes as they come, Bobbie. For now, get your head in the game because the pace car has turned off its lights. Yup he’s dropped down onto the apron. This is it. You’ll be racing before you come off turn four. Get ready, Bobbie it’s time to go racing. On my count. Three, two, one, stand on it Bobbie!”

The field was already pulling away from me when Kathy gave me the word to go. I started up shifting even as I was exiting turn 4. I wanted to stand on it and work my way through the field. But I held back and followed Kathy’s advice. I knew that she would led me wrong. In the last two years she has found answers to tracks that most people couldn’t. By lap 7 the field had shaken out just the way that Kathy predicted. I swear that girl has gotten to be one of the best spotters in the industry.

Even though I was trying to hold back. I was forced to pass 6 cars by lap 13. I had moved from 40th to 34th. Kathy kept telling me to hold back. I kept telling her I was, and it wasn’t my fault the other cars were falling off the pace. On lap 20 just as I was getting ready to pull off for a pit stop. Kathy’s prediction or the first wreck came true. It happened in turn 2.

The wreck was a bad one. Ronan Bain from Horn Thomas racing blew his right front tire coming out of turn 1 into turn 2. His car slammed into the retaining wall at a weird angle flipping it onto its roof. Jules Grinda, Léonard Carrell both from Les Ailes de Justice slammed into the right side of Bain’s car at full speed. The three cars careened down the track onto the back straightaway. They collected two more cars on their way down to the inside apron. Kathy made only one mistake in her prediction. The wreck happened in the main pack not the breakaway and lead group.

I stay high and to the outside as I passed the still sliding and tumbling cars. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it was still a nasty wreck. By the time the pace car had collected up the field the wreckers were already rolling. Along with the rescue crews.

“Kathy have any of them dropped their window nets yet?” I asked her as we rounded turn 4 one lap later.

“The only net still up is Bain’s. The rescue crews are still trying to get the car onto its wheels. His spotter says he’s alive but hurt. How bad we don’t know yet. His car must have rolled six times after he was hit by Grinda, and Carrell. The other two drivers are Gerino Rosetta, Panos Kontotis both from Prototype Outcasts.”

“Damn all good drivers. Are any of them hurt?” I meant what I said.

“They all got of their cars unaided. Only Bain is still inside his car.” Kathy quickly reassured me. She knew that the death of Robert Campbell still haunted me at times. Usually whenever I see a fellow driver’s car upside down following a wreck. “Bobbie, pit road will be open this time around. Chief Hailee wants to know how the car is handling.”

“Tell the Chief I need four new tires, two cans of fuel, and half a round up on the sway bar.” I already knew what I needed for the rest of this stage.

“How is the rear end holding the track Bobbie?” Chief Hailee asked coming up on the radio. “Is the rear end swinging out on you?”

“Keep the pressure where it’s at Chief. Just give me that half round of sway and we’ll be good.” I started to chuckle. “This is one time Chief where being lose in the rear end is going to help.”

“You have got to be kidding me?!” Chief Hailee chuckled over the radio as I followed the field down onto pit road. “How?”

As I pulled to a stop in my pit box. My crew were already clearing the wall. I felt the right-side bounce into the air. The scream of the air guns almost deafening over the roar of the engine. I felt the second can of fuel slam home as Danny dropped the right-side of the car. Seconds later I felt the left side bounce into the air. As the left side tires were slammed home. I spotted Beth, Sam, and Jim pulling out of their boxes. Before I could say something, the car slammed down, and Chief Hailee was yelling for me to go.

I pulled out and never looked back. As I exited pit road Kathy was on the radio. “Way to go guys! That was a record-breaking NASCAR pit spot. Fourteen seconds flat for a four-tire stop.”

Holy shit. I don’t believe it. A 14 second flat 4-tire pit stop. I knew that my pit crew were fast and some of the best in Formula One. Yet that time beats every teams’ in NASCAR. Their hard work had given me 15 positions. From 33rd to 12th in one pit stop. This was going to get hairy.

“Okay Bobbie, I got good, bad, and horrible news. The good news is you’re now in twelfth place. The bad news is you’re in twelfth place with a massive target on your back. The horrible news is no one around you is a friend. Beth, Sam, and Jim are all in the top five.”

“In other words, I got to work my way up to them. How many laps until the stage competition pit stops?” I had lost count of laps.

“Twenty-five until the competition yellow and the end of stage one.” I heard Kathy take a deep breath. “Bobbie, I know you don’t want to hear this, but you need to hold off the rest of the field. You got to give Beth and the others a chance to reel in that breakaway group.”

Kathy was right. I didn’t like what I was hearing. I hate playing defense. Yet if it is the only way to curtail the breakaway. Then I had to do it. “Okay Kathy I hear you. You’re right I don’t like. I’ll do it.”

“Keep your head on a swivel Bobbie. The green flag is about to drop. I’ve got some great news for you. Bain is going to be alright. He won’t be racing any time soon, but he’s alive.”

“How bad are his injuries Kathy? Any idea.” I asked her as we rounded turn 2 for the back straightaway.

“Bad enough that they’re taking him by air-ambulance to the nearest hospital. Let me get with his spotter. I should be able to tell you more later.”

“Thanks Kathy.” I really did mean that. The pace car turned off its lights and moved to the apron. “You’ll have to excuse me Kathy. I need to clock in. it looks like the race is going green and I have to play blocker.”

The green flag dropped, and the race was on. It took us 3 laps to spread out enough to really get down to racing. As we exit turn 2 onto the back straightaway the yellow flag came back out. I pounded on my steering wheel. “Kathy what the hell?”

“Chill out Bobbie. Getting bent out of shape this early in the race won’t help. Besides, I doubt this will be a long yellow. Kuno Junzo blew his left rear tire and caught it in time.”

“I got a feeling that this won’t be the only yellow between now and the end of the stage. You know the old saying about yellows Kathy.” I told her as we rounded turn 4 behind the pace car.

“Yellows breed yellows. You might be right about that, Bobbie.”

“I wish that I wasn’t.” I radioed back then released the mike key. “But it looks like I was right again. Not that it matters.”

On lap 32 the green flag dropped, and we were back to racing. I slide into the middle lane to block the rest of the pack. I watched as the first 10 cars pulled away. I knew that I could run them down, but I had been ordered to play defense for Sam, Jim, and Beth. I wish that either Jim or Sam was back here in this position. They have the experience in blocking on an oval track. I’ll just have to do my best.

I make my car as wide as I can. I let the ass end swing wide in the turns. I weave back and forth on the straightaways. I know that I’m pissing off the majority of the field. Not that I care. They would do the something to me if they had the chance. On lap 41 I realize that Beth, Sam, and Jim aren’t having any luck in reeling in the led pack. I also realize that I won’t be able to hold off the main pack for much longer. My tires are losing grip faster with each lap we run.

“Kathy I can’t keep this up much longer. I either chase down the lead pack or let the others go by.” I radioed.

“Chase down the lead pack Bobbie. Don’t hold back. Drive it like you really did steal it. GO! SPEEDY! GO!”

I down shifted coming off turn 4 to third and dropped the hammer. I crossed over the start/finish line at full speed. I have known from the start of the race that I had more power under the hood than I was using. I knew that I had the best handling car on the track. Now I was going to show them all what I had brought to race with.

Within 2 laps I had chased down the led pack and was nipping at Beth’s rear end. There was no way she was going to get away. Then the next thing I know on lap 48 the yellow flag is flying. Kathy is on the radio before I even have to ask. “Bobbie back it down. Wreck on the front straightaway.”

“How did it happen?” I asked her.

“Louwrens Hartman ran over a piece of debris off one of the other cars. It punched a big hole through the radiator and from the looks of thing his oil pan. He’s down on the apron but there is oil covering half the straightaway.”

Damn not good. If there is oil on the track, then there is a good chance that a red flag will be thrown. “Bobbie heads up! They’re going to hold off on the red flag. That’s the good news. The bad news is when you come in at the end of the stage for the competition pit stop, they plan on holding the field until the track is clear.”

“Not good. Are they planning on hold us in the pits or on the back straightaway?” I asked her planning my next move.

“In the pits after everyone has completed their stops.”

“Damn. If they’re planning on holding us in the pits, then there is no way for me to move up. They might as well throw the red flag.” I sighed as the pace car lead us down off the track and onto pit road. My crew was over the wall and servicing my car like the professionals they are. Only this time they were taking their time. I looked down the other pits boxes and I could tell that every team was doing the same. Once Danny dropped the left-side of the car Chief Hailee radioed over to me. “Shut her down Bobbie. The red flag is now flying. The track crews are having a hard time cleaning up the oil.”

“It’s the concrete Chief. It’s still too new.” I knew this was going to happen sooner or later. I just wasn’t expecting it to happen this soon.

“Doesn’t matter Bobbie. It’s not the track but the tracking cleaning crew. They put down too much Speedy Dry and now they’re having to breakout the track vacs, to clean up their mess. This time it is a case of inexperienced crews working for the first time under real race conditions.” As I sat there listening to Chief Hailee’s explanation, I knew he was right. “You can bet that next year they’ll have their act together.”

“How long do you think before the track is cleared for racing?” I asked.

“Ten to fifteen minutes, Bobbie.” Chief Hailee chuckled. “Relax kiddo we got another hundred and ten laps to go.”

A thought occurred to me that I didn’t want to even think about. “Chief what’s the weather forecast look like?”

“Why?” he asked quickly not realizing what I was worried about.

“This area is known for a sudden shifts in the weather come evening, Chief. What are the chances for an early even rain?” I pointed out.

It took him a few minutes on his laptop to find what I want to know. “Ah hell, Bobbie. You’re right. The chances are real, good for a late evening rainstorm. There is a storm forming at the mouth of the bay as we speak. How did you know?”

“Chief give me your best guess on when or if it will hit.” I really needed to know now that I knew there was a storm brewing.

“If it hits. It’ll hit between laps eighty to ninety. From the looks of the radar it’ll washout the race.” Chief Hailee was still calculating. “You thinking what I’m thinking. Going for the halfway win?”

“If that rain hits like I think it will. Then that will be my best bet. The downside is if we go this route, we’ll blow any chance at a win if the race goes the full four-hundred.” I had to be honest with Chief Hailee. “We’ll burn through tires and fuel long before we reach the four-hundred miles.”

“Are you sure about that Bobbie?” Chief Hailee asked me.

“Nope. Just guessing.” I answered honestly. “And no that is not a SWAG.”

“Then how did you know about the brewing storm?” Chief Hailee demanded.

“Logic Chief. This is a racetrack on an island at the end of a historical bay. It stands to reason this area gets hit with a lot of sea born storms late in the day.” I told him then chuckled. “And I also looked it up on the net last night before bed.”

“Smart ass.” Chief Hailee chuckled.

“Okay Bobbie fire it up. The Commissioners just gave the signal to restart engines.” Kathy told me as she interrupted my talk with Chief Hailee.

I flipped the battery switches and pushed the starter button. Nothing happened. I flipped the backup battery switch and pressed the starter button again this time the engine fired over. I breathed a sigh of relief. Of all the things I feared the most after a red flag stop was my engine failing to restart. With a sponsor paying more than a million dollars just to have their name on the side of your car. You want the damned to at least start.

As we pulled out onto the track and lined up Kathy gave me some good news. “Okay, Bobbie. Listen up. I listened to your conversation with Chief Hailee. When the race goes green don’t screw around. Drop down to the inside lane and hug the apron. It’s the fastest way around the track.”

That piece of advice did not fill me with confidence. If the fastest way around the track was hugging the inside apron. Then I’m screwed. “Kathy I’m in the outside. There’s no way I can get down to the inside apron.”

“Bobbie look to your left. Tell me who you see.”

I took a quick look to the left and smiled inside my helmet. “Seth Fisher.”

“That’s right. Choke artist supreme. The man has been missing his up shifts on every start. Bobbie, I think he’s afraid of the entrance to turn one.”

That was all I needed to hear. Seth maybe fast once he’s rolling but it is that spilt second just as he shifts into forth gear that will be my opening. I just need to force my way down past him. The squeeze will be tight.

“Time to go to work Bobbie. The pace car just turned off its warning lights. You got this lap and you’re back to racing.” Kathy warned me.

“Thanks Kathy. I know that I don’t say this often enough. But I couldn’t do this job with you.” I told her over the radio.

“Forget about it, Bobbie. I know who is the brains of this outfit.” Kathy giggled. “Me.”

I just laughed and pulled my harness down tight one more time. Just as Kathy warned me. We made one more lap and the green flag dropped. Just as Kathy said would happen Seth missed his up shift. The opening was small, but it was there. I forced my way in front of Seth squeezing between him and the 8th place car diving for the inside apron. My sudden dive for the inside forced the rest of the field to check up. Giving me more room to reach the apron. As we enter turn 1, I was three wide with the cars in 9th and 10th places. This was Stockcar racing at its best. Dancing 3 wide going into a high banked turn at 195mph.

My sudden move must have thrown more than one race plan out the window. Because the next thing I know. I’m fighting my way towards the front with Beth pounding on my bumper. Let me correct that. Beth was pushing me, she was being pushed by Jim, who was being pushing Sam. I hit my radio. “WHAT THE HELL KATHY?! Where did they come from?”

“You opened the door Bobbie. Whatever you did when you dropped down to the inside forced the rest of the field to check up. Beth, and the other just took advantage of the opening you made. In short, they came along for the train ride, Bobbie. The way you four are going you’ll have the inside lane tied up within the next lap and a half.”

“Thanks Kathy. Give me a rundown on the track.” I radioed back.

“The track has gotten tight from the rubber build up. The outside lane in the turns is going to be like riding on marbles. The only clean line is where you and the others are running. Down next to the apron.”

If what Kathy was telling me is true. Then the shortest way around the track may not be the fastest way around but it will be the safest. That’s so long as nobody in the outside lane spinouts and comes down into my lane of travel. I pushed my hardest to clear the field. I needed to be well out in front with plenty of room if something should happen. It took me another 7 laps to pull far enough a way to relax a little.

For the next 10 laps we steadily increased our led on the rest of the field. Going back from me to 13th place we’re running single file. From 14th on back the field is running two wide. For some reason, the field isn’t spreading out or splitting up like it had during the first stage. We should have the same three groups that we did. Yet something has changed with the way the track is running to allow the field to still mostly intact.

I knew that by lap 62 we should have been spread out more. Yet, we were still running in basically one solid pack. “Kathy has something changed?”

“The track temp has been dropping Bobbie. The other teams anticipated the change better than we did. We’re still basically running with the setups we had at the beginning of the race. I hate to say this Bobbie, but it’s my fault. I should have given you and the Chief a better report on track conditions. I should have anticipated the greater temp drop.”

“Kathy, you’re one of the best at anticipating changes in track conditions. You’ve never missed anticipating a track change in the last two years. If anything, the screwup was on my part. You can’t make accurate calls if I don’t give up the information needed to make your predictions.” I meant what I said. I knew that it was my fault for not telling Kathy was going on with the track. And now the team is paying for my mistake.

Then on lap 64 the rest of the field reeled us in. By the end of lap 65 we were once again running two wide all the way back through the field. I started pushing my engine for all it was worth. Then on lap 69 it happened. At first, I smelled burning oil. I thought is was coming from me. Yet when the smoke started rolling in from outside the car. I knew that it was the car in the outside lane. I just knew that the driver was going to blow his engine. I tried to pull away before that happened but was too late.

At the entrance to turn 3 his engine finally blew, and flames leapt from the engine compartment. He spun out slamming into the left side of my car. The force of the impact turn us both sideways. Beth slammed into the driver’s side door panel of my car. Sam was right behind her slamming into the rear panel. Jim didn’t fare any better as he went head on into their rear ends. The car that was in the second outside position went into the outside wall before spinning sideways. The two cars behind him slammed into his left side. The was the next thing I knew my right-side tires blew out and I began to tumble. I felt my car raise off the track and into the air. I saw Beth and Sam disappear from view as I flipped through the air.

I quickly lost count of how many times I rolled around turns 3 and 4 down onto the apron. I had already let go of the steering wheel and pulled my arms across my chest. I braced myself as best as I could to prevent injury. I lost count of how many times I rolled. When I finally came to a stop I was on my wheels, thankfully. I pulled the steering wheel off the shaft and dropped the safety netting to let the Commissioners know that I was alright. Once that was taken care of quickly unstrapped and began to climb out of the car. I had no desire to still be in the car if the fuel should catch fire.

As I drop to the ground, I knew that I had made a mistake. I would be spending the net few hours in the in-field medical center. It took me a few minutes to get my helmet and gloves off while trying to stand on my right leg. Every time I put my left foot down to hold my weight I wanted to scream. When the rescue crews got me. I didn’t even bother with trying to butch things up.

“I think that I broke something in my left leg.” I told them honestly. “I can’t hold my weight on that leg.”

“We look at it. You come now to medical center. We no take chance.” At first the medics broken English unsettled me. I put the feeling down to the fact that most of the rescue crews had only learned English in the pass few months. I ruthlessly crushed this feeling as I knew the members of the rescue crews were all professionals. Along with the fear that was rising at having to face a doctor. “You ride on stretcher. No argue.”

“Yes sir. Just give me a second to collect my things.” I asked.

“Tow truck crew bring your things to you in medical center. We go now.” The medic ordered me bluntly. I did as ordered. In the last two years I had learned to not argue with the rescue crews. They get mean if you do.

I looked around and counted the other cars pilled up around the exit of turn 4. What I saw made me want to throw up. All of MRI was out of the race along with at least one car from the other teams. For a total of 15 cars. I looked over towards the front straightaway where the rest of the field was stopped. I did a fast count and realized that only 19 cars remained. Out of a field of 40 cars. A little more than half were out of the race. I knew that this track would collect a bounty for its first race. I just wasn’t expecting that price to be so damn high. Mitsubishi Speedway had earned its nickname and reputation as the Dragon today.

At the in field medical center the docs took half a dozen x-rays of my left leg. They didn’t both with trying to help me out of my leathers. They just cut my shoes off then sliced my pant leg and Nomex up the outside of my leg. The docs must have looked at my x-rays for the better part of 15 minutes before finally make their decision. I was on my way to the mainland and a hospital. They wanted me seen by a specialist.

Beth stuck her head into the room where is was waiting to be transported. “Hi sis. What did the docs say?”

“I get to visit the mainland hospital. They’re afraid I might have cracked my femur, tibia, and fibula along with pulling a few of the ligaments in the ankle.” I pouted and looked down at the brace that covered my leg from the hip down to my toes. “They believe the hit that I took to the driver’s door panel did most of the damage.”

“About that Bobbie.” Beth started off only to blush and look down at the floor. “I’m really sorry about that. Sam is still dealing with the docs. He got banged up pretty bad, but he’ll be okay.”

“I hope so. As it is, I’ll most likely be out of the next few races.” I bitched. “Beth, I know that it no one’s fault. This is just one of the risks of racing. It could have been worse. We both know that.”

“Yah, but I still feel bad about slamming into you like that.” Beth sighed. “Any idea of what the fuck went wrong?”

“Outside of that joker on the outside blowing his engine then spinning out. Not a clue. You were behind me. What did you see?” I admitted honestly.

“All I saw was a cloud of smoke then the side of your car as I plowed into it. Then you were flipping over like a top lifting my front end into the air. After that I slammed down and spun towards the infield.” Beth admitted as she looked down the hallway. “Here comes Jim. He might know more.”

“Yeh Bobbie. I heard you’ll be taking a trip to the mainland curtesy of Nazarova Grigorievna and team Red Star.” Jim said with a smile as he entered the room. Then he saw the splint on my leg. “Oh shit! I’m sorry Bobbie. I heard you were hurt, but I didn’t think it was that bad. Sorry man.”

“Forget about Jim. You couldn’t have known. This” I said as I waved down at my leg. “is nothing more than the cost of racing two-wide on the Dragon.” Beth and Jim both chuckled at my comment about racing at Mitsubishi Speedway. “Jim can you tell me what you saw just before the wreck?”

“Bobbie all I saw was a cloud of black rolling over the tops of Beth, and Sam. Then bang I was getting hit in the ass end sending me into the outside lane and into the side of Grigorievna. I think we slide along the outer wall for most of turn four, but you’ll have to ask Joey or one of the other spotters. They were the only ones with a decent view of the track and the wreck.” Jim said as he walked further into the room to stand by the exam table. One he was next to my table he dropped his voice so that only the three of us could hear what he said next. “Bobbie, I don’t think Grigorievna’s engine blowing was an accident.”

“What are you thinking Jim?” I asked just as quietly.

“We’re not the only ones with a target on our backs. Teams Red Star and King Night are right behind us in the team points race.” Jim said as he looked out the door. “Everyone else is at least twenty to thirty points behind. With us and most of King Night and Red Star out of the race. The rest of the teams will be able to cut our lead down to almost nothing.”

“With most of the teams looking at us with a hard lock. No one would expect one of the other teams from slipping into a nearby garage stall. Loosen a drain plug or hose line just enough. And bang! Sixty, seventy laps of hard racing you blow an engine.” I said with a snarl in my voice. “Damn. Almost anyone from any of the teams could have pulled something like that off.”

“Hey Bobbie! Where they keeping you?” Sam called out.

Beth stuck her head out the door. “In here Sam. What did the docs say?”

“Got a clean bill of health. They told me that Bobbie is going to be headed for the mainland.” Sam said as he walked into the room. “Oh shit!”

“Let’s just say that I won’t be making the next few races.” I bitched then smiled up at him. “Could have been worse.”

“Fuck. It looks bad enough as it is. That’s five drivers out for the next four to six races.” Sam said without preamble.

“What do you mean five drivers out for the next five races?” Beth demanded.

“What didn’t you hear?” Sam asked us all. He sighed. “Between Bobbie, Bain, Mori Unkei, Nazarova Grigorievna and Rokossovsky Aleskeevich there will be five drivers in the mainland hospital. Mori Unkei is out for the rest of this season. From what the docs told me she’s going to need surgery to fix her left arm. They took her out ten minutes ago. Grigorievna and Aleskeevich both have concussions that will put them out of next week’s race. As for Bain he’s out for the game for good. I overheard one of the docs saying his back is broken in three places.”

I had a nasty thought. One that I really didn’t want to ask. “Guys do any of you know how the replacement drivers are picked?”

“By country of origin. If a we need a replacement, we get one of the US drivers. If Red Star needs a replacement driver, they get to pick one of the Polish drivers. The same goes for all the teams. Why?” Beth answered.

“Well think about it. Those fifteen drivers have free access to all of our garages and pit areas. They need that access so that they can familiarize themselves with our cars. We’ve all seen them in the garage areas. Nobody would even think twice about one of them looking at our cars.” I didn’t have to go further for the others to see where I was going.

“They would know what to do to sabotage a car. It would also get them off the beach and into the game.” Jim said aloud finishing what we were all thinking. “I think we need to go to the commission with this.”

“There is no need for that Jim.” Mom said as she walked into the room with dad right behind her. “We would have been here sooner, but your father was already looking into the possibility of sabotage. When Joseph Lachman lost the brake pad that Louwrens Hartman ran over. He and a few of the other Senior Engineers got together to look at the wrecked cars. Each one had signs of tampering. It’s a good thing that you’re all such damned fine drivers. It seems that we have been hit as well.”

“Which car did they fuck with?” I snarled.

“Only yours and Beth’s. When the tow trucks pulled your car into the garage, I took a look at the battery box. If you hadn’t wrecked when you did. You would have blown both batteries some time around lap eighty-five to ninety.” Dad told us with a real snarl in his voice. One that I have heard only a few times in my life. I could tell that dad was beyond pissed off. He was ready to kill someone. “Bain’s car had the tie rod on the right front tie loosened to the point that it won’t have matter either way if he blew that tire. Sooner or later his car was going to tumble.”

“Any idea of who could have gotten to all of the cars like that dad?” Beth asked with real concern.

“Only two of the replacement drivers can work for any of the teams. They were also the only ones that had access to all the garage areas. Ted Mitchell, and Marshall Morgan, both from the UK and masters of multiple languages.” Mom told us all with a sneer.

“Excuse please. Is time for Bobbie-sama to go to hospital.” The nurse said as she entered the exam room. She was followed by two men dressed in the uniforms for an ambulance crew. “You in good care Bobbie-sama. These men very reliable. Best in all of Chiba.”

My family and I just chuckled at the way the medical staff were treating us drivers. I had never had such respectful care givers at a racetrack. Then again, we were in a nation that respect is first and foremost in their society. I gave mom and dad a quick hug. “See you guys down at the hospital. Let me know how the race ends will you.”

“Will do kiddo. You just get yourself taken care of.” Dad said as he kissed me on top of the head. “And don’t worry about our two problem children.”

“Why do you say that dad?” Beth asked as the ambulance crew was shifting me to a rolling litter.

“What is the one thing you don’t screw with when it comes to Crew Chief’s? Dad asked of us all then grinned. “Never screw with their cars.”

As I was being rolled out of the infield medical center I was chuckling. I knew that somewhere out there right now. There was thirty-nine Crew Chiefs hunting down two wanted replacement drivers for a little talk and attitude adjustments with their favorite torque wrenches, prybars, and hammers. I should feel sorry for the two drivers. Though they did put me in the infield med-center so I just can’t bring myself to worry about what those two deserve.

-----tbc-----