My Ultimate Sign-in System Made Me Invincible

Chapter 758: P1, Liam!

The desert sun dropped low behind the grandstands and painted the sky over Yas Marina in copper and dark violet. Overhead, the floodlight towers came on one after another and threw a bright white glow across the track. Heat still rose off the asphalt, and the air smelled of race fuel and hot brakes.

Liam sat still in the cockpit of the Halden car at the very back of the grid. The seat held him tight around the shoulders, and his belts were pulled down hard across his chest and lap.

The static in his earpiece cleared.

"Radio check, Liam," Pete said over the radio. "How do you hear me?"

Liam pressed the radio button on the steering wheel. "Loud and clear, Pete. Seat’s fine. Pedals feel good."

"Good," Pete said over the radio with a calm voice. "Listen, mate. You skipped practice and qualifying, so this is all new. The tires are warm, but the brakes will be cold into turn one. Take it easy at the start and let the field spread out. Use the first few laps to learn where the limits are. Bring the car home clean. There’s no pressure on points today."

"Copy that," Liam said. "I’ll keep it on the track."

He put both hands on the wheel and let his senses settle into the car. He kept his power out of it. All he used was what his body could already feel. Through the seat, he could feel the engine idling right behind his back. Through the steering, he could feel exactly where the front wheels were pointing. The car was a beautiful piece of human work, and it was balanced right on the edge of its grip.

Ahead of him, a long line of red taillights glowed in the dusk. The last of the crews cleared the grid, and the lights above the front straight came on.

One red light.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

The engines of every car on the grid rose together into a scream that shook the grandstands.

The lights went out.

Vroom!

Liam let go of the clutch paddle, and the Halden car leapt forward without a hint of wheelspin. Two cars ahead of him bogged down off the line, and Liam went straight through the gap between them.

He didn’t force anything. He left a full car’s width on his left, tucked in behind a yellow car, and braked early into turn one. Two drivers ahead of him tried to go around the outside and clipped front wings with a sharp snap of carbon. Liam saw the inside open up, turned in with light hands, and slipped past both of them before the exit.

By the end of the first lap, he had gained four places.

Over the next few laps, Liam drove like a student learning a new instrument. He braked deeper and deeper into the big stops until he felt the exact moment the front tires started to scrub. He rode the kerbs and listened to the floor scrape. In the tight corners under the glowing roof of the Yas Hotel, he played with the throttle and learned how easily the rear stepped out when the car slowed down.

"Lap five done, Liam," Pete said over the radio with a surprised voice. "You’re already matching the pace of the cars in front of you. The car looks stable on our end. How does it feel?"

"The front has plenty of grip," Liam said as he flew down the long back straight. "The rear wants to slide in the hotel corners, but it’s predictable. I’ve got room to push."

"Okay," Pete said over the radio. "Keep your rhythm. You’re catching the pack."

***

High above the pit straight, the Bellemere suite was loud.

Matt was pressed flat against the glass with his hands cupped around his eyes. Every time the pack roared past below, the floor shook under their feet.

"Did you see that?" Matt yelled, pointing down at turn one. "He just went around the outside of that green car! The outside! That guy’s been racing for eight years, and Liam drove around him like he was looking for a parking spot!"

"That’s fourteenth," Harper said from the bar counter, holding a tablet with the live timing on it. "He started last. That’s six places in seven laps."

"He doesn’t even look stressed," Alex said, leaning over the back of the couch with a plate of sliders. "I watched his onboard camera on the monitor. His hands aren’t even moving much. When I tried that racing simulator in London, my arms were dead after three corners."

Over at the balcony rail, Stacy and Yanxia were watching the race together. Elise had a small camera on a tripod beside them, filming the race and the suite.

Yanxia had both palms flat against the glass. Every time the gray car with the red accents flashed past the main grandstand, her eyes followed it all the way.

"Papa, drive fast!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, bouncing on her toes. The noise that had scared her that morning didn’t bother her at all now. "Pass all the noisy cars!"

Stacy smiled and smoothed Yanxia’s hair back. "He’s going fast. Look at him."

***

Down on the track, the race settled into its middle stretch.

The air cooled as night came in, and the track changed with it. The cars ahead of Liam fought hard and slid their rear tires through the long corners until the rubber started to blister. Liam stayed smooth. He used every inch of the kerbs without shaking the car, came off the brakes early, and carried his speed through the corners so the tires never had to do more work than they needed to.

By lap twenty-four, the midfield cars started to pit. One by one, they peeled off into the pit lane for fresh tires.

"Car ahead is pitting, Liam," Pete said over the radio. "You’ve got clear air. The leaders are coming in on lap twenty-six. How are your tires?"

"Still good," Liam said. "The fronts haven’t started to go yet. I can stay out another ten laps."

"Copy that," Pete said over the radio with a voice full of disbelief. "Your lap times are getting faster. Stay out and push when you can."

Liam put in lap after lap that matched the front runners on their brand-new tires. He stretched his first stint all the way to lap thirty-four, and while the rest of the field fought in traffic, he found himself leading the Grand Prix.

"Box this lap, Liam. Box, box," Pete said over the radio. "You’ve built a big gap. Let’s make it clean."

Liam dove into the pit lane and hit the speed limiter right at the white line. The engine dropped to a steady drone as he rolled down the lane between the packed garages, and he stopped in the Halden box exactly on his marks.

Clack-clack-clack!

The car went up on the jacks, and four wheel guns screamed at once. The old tires came off, the new ones went on, and the car dropped back down.

"Go, go, go!"

The whole stop took two point three seconds, and it was the team’s fastest of the season. The Halden mechanics punched the air behind their visors.

Liam shot down the pit exit and came back out in fifth place, on tires ten laps fresher than anyone around him.

"You’re P5, Liam! P5!" Pete shouted over the radio. All the caution was gone from his voice. "The podium is right in front of you! The leader’s eight seconds up the road!"

"I see them," Liam said. "Let’s go get them."

***

With twenty laps left, Liam pushed the car to everything it had.

His reflexes were far beyond any normal driver’s. He caught the smallest slide before the car had even started to turn, and he hit every braking point within a centimeter, lap after lap. He passed fourth place on lap forty-two with a clean move into the hairpin that left the other driver plenty of room. Four laps later, he took third under braking at the end of the back straight, and on lap fifty-one, he swept past second through the fast curves of the first sector and closed right up on the leader’s gearbox.

The leader was a veteran champion who had won several world titles with hard, smart racing. He drove for the best team on the grid, in a car that had dominated the season. The championship was already his, but he had no intention of handing the last win of the year to a stand-in driver in a midfield car.

For three laps, the champion gave a lesson in defending.

Every time Liam showed his nose on one of the long straights, the champion put his car exactly where Liam needed to go and broke the tow. He squeezed Liam toward the dusty edges of the track without ever breaking the rules. He braked late and carried his car deep into the slow corners, so Liam never had a line to cut back on the exit.

Liam sat behind him, watched, and learned. He had real respect for the man in front of him. This was the best of human driving, done under huge pressure.

He also saw where the champion was weak. Every time the leader went through the tight corners around the hotel, his rear tires hopped over the high kerbs. Those tires had done ten more laps than Liam’s, and they were almost finished. The back of the car kept stepping out on the throttle, and the small corrections the champion had to make were costing him speed.

Lap fifty-seven began. One more lap after this.

Liam stayed glued to the champion through the fast curves of the first sector. On the long back straight, he pulled out of the tow and drew level with the leader’s rear wing. The champion held the inside and braked very late. White smoke puffed off his front right tire as it locked for a moment.

Liam didn’t try to force it. He gave the leader room, slotted back into second, and waited.

"Last lap, Liam! Last lap!" Pete yelled over the radio, his breath loud in the microphone. "This is it! Everything you’ve got!"

"Okay," Liam said with a steady voice.

They flew past the grandstands and into turn one for the last time.

Liam pushed hard through the first sector and stayed within two car lengths. As they reached the long straight in the middle of the lap, the champion moved over to guard the inside line for the big braking zone at the end.

Liam showed his front wing on the inside, then flicked the car to the outside.

The Halden car surged down the open lane on its fresher tires. The two cars screamed down the straight side by side at over two hundred miles per hour.

The two-hundred-meter board flashed past.

Then one hundred and fifty.

Then one hundred.

The champion hit the brakes, and his car twitched under the huge stop.

Liam braked a split second later. The front tires held. He kept his car right alongside the champion’s and left him plenty of room at the apex. Neither car touched.

Because Liam had taken the wider line, he clipped the apex cleanly and straightened up early. The champion, on his worn-out tires, had to fight a big slide on the exit as his rear tires lit up in a puff of blue smoke.

Liam got on the throttle clean and smooth. The Halden car shot out of the corner and took the lead.

Through the last sector around the Yas Hotel, Liam hit every apex and pulled out three car lengths of clear daylight on the champion.

***

Liam swept through the last two corners and onto the front straight.

Above him, the checkered flag waved in the bright glare of the floodlights.

Fireworks burst from the roofs of the grandstands and lit up the night sky over the marina.

Sixty thousand people were on their feet, and their roar drowned out the engines as the gray car crossed the line in first place.

The team radio went wild.

"Yes! Yes!" Pete screamed over the radio, and Liam could hear him pounding the pit wall. Behind him, mechanics were shouting and air horns were going off. "You did it! P1, Liam! You won the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix! From the back of the grid to first! I can’t believe it!"

Liam slowed down for the cool-down lap and raised one gloved hand to the marshals, who were waving their flags at him from every corner.

He pressed the radio button. "Thank you, Pete. Thank you to everyone in the garage and back at the factory. The car was great, and so was that pit stop. You built an amazing machine. Thanks for letting me drive it."

"Thank you, Liam! What a drive, mate! What a drive!"

Liam smiled under his helmet. He looked up at the glass suites above the pit lane and found the Bellemere one. A small figure with black hair was jumping up and down against the glass and waving a tiny flag with both hands.

He remembered her serious little face before the race, pointing her finger at him and telling him not to lose.

Liam laughed to himself as he steered the winning car toward the pit lane.

’I didn’t lose.’