The wind howled, whipping past them.
Turn 1 was already chaos, a seething pot of porridge. But the TV cameras and the live audience didn't have time to untangle that mess. Their eyes were glued to the two red-and-black streaks of light tearing through the air, speed climbing, arrows released from a bow, charging full tilt toward Turn 3.
Russell had barely held onto his lead, his nose just half a car length ahead. He was stubbornly defending his position, refusing to yield.
Kai was relentless. He used his starting position to claim the racing line, sticking to his opponent like a shadow.
But neither could break the deadlock.
The run from Turn 1 to Turn 3 at the Red Bull Ring isn't technically a straight, but it acts like one. The track kinks slightly right by five degrees, then left by ten. It's effectively flat-out.
Turn 2 is a kink, not a corner. No braking required. Just keep the foot planted.
That was why neither Russell nor Kai had fought to the death in Turn 1. They were both playing the long game, fighting for exit speed, trying to gain an advantage for this moment.
The result: a draw.
One ahead, one behind, the two cars flew past, tearing through the lush green mountainside. The green landscape seemed to burn, blurring into a torrential downpour of color.
From the ground, the #2 and #3 cars looked neck-and-neck. But from the aerial shot, you could see the standoff was on a knife's edge.
Russell had the advantage. He hadn't lost the lead. But he knew this was temporary.
First, he was still on the dirty side. No grip.
Second, he was on the outside. No line.
If they entered Turn 3 like this another right-hander Kai would have the inside line again. He would eat away at Russell's lead until there was nothing left. Russell's pole advantage was already hanging by a thread; it couldn't take much more.
So, Russell had to act.
Clean, decisive, ruthless. When it's time to strike, you strike.
"Russell is squeezing!"
"Oh, contact! Russell is trying to use his position to force Kai off the racing line!"
"Kai is pushed wide!"
Gasps erupted. Croft's eyes bulged, his heart stopping. There was no time to react. His entire attention was chained to those two red-and-black blurs.
The camera shook. The cars touched. Kai was forced to open his steering, his tires briefly leaving the line. But he adjusted instantly, feathering the throttle, using the superior grip of the clean line to stick back onto Russell's side.
"Kai fights back!"
"Wow, he's using the grip advantage to reclaim the track "
"Contact again!"
"Russell can't hold the line! He is hanging onto the lead by the skin of his teeth!"
"Two cars, wheel-to-wheel, bayonets drawn, fighting a hand-to-hand war from Turn 1 to Turn 3! The ART team radio must be chaos right now. Frédéric Vasseur has probably fainted. Should they tell them to stop? This might not end well."
"But right now, clearly, Russell isn't backing down. And neither is Kai..."
"Turn 3 is right there!"
In an instant, everyone held their breath. The massive Red Bull Ring fell silent, the roar of engines replaced by the thumping of hearts against ribcages. The only thing that mattered was the two streaks of light, fighting for every inch, diving headlong into the Turn 3 hairpin.
Vroooom! VROOOOM!
The roar engulfed Kai, but inside the noise, he found peace. An absolute quiet within the extreme chaos.
He felt his heart beating. His nerves extended through the car, feeling every undulation of the track. With the tires lacking grip, every input had to be finer, more precise. No deviation was allowed. His focus was absolute.
The track was climbing, the car ascending like a ladder into the clouds. The twists and turns flowed like water in his vision.
Wait. Wait longer.
Kai chose a different strategy from Turn 1. He used the uphill gradient to his advantage, boldly delaying his braking, using every last inch of the braking zone.
In his left mirror, he could see Russell. Still calm, still steady. Russell didn't risk a late braking move. This was a hairpin.
Lack of grip, outside line, dirty side. If he braked late here, the rear would snap, maybe even spin. The time loss would be catastrophic.
Russell had tried to squeeze Kai on the straight to reclaim the line, which would have solved everything.
Unfortunately, that plan had failed.
So Russell had to go to Plan B. No early braking, but no late braking either. A clean, precise braking point, stabbing into the corner.
Similar to Turn 1, Russell relied on beautiful car control to hold his position, prioritizing exit speed.
It was a familiar situation, but Kai's braking point changed everything.
Kai squeezed the arc of Turn 3 dry. The car slid into the turn-in point on the ideal line, the tires screaming a low, sharp wail as they were pushed to their lateral limit.
The turn-in was seamless. The rear floated slightly. The cold tires trembled under the load, dancing on the edge of the clouds. A breeze would be enough to send them into the abyss.
Whoosh, whoosh. In the roaring wind, Kai danced on the tip of a blade. Wobbling, precarious, but never out of control.
Just as the car seemed pushed to its breaking point, about to fall apart, he tapped the throttle extreme control. His timing was perfect. The dynamic center of gravity snapped back into place, the car tightening like a pulled string, returning to the rails. A dance on the knife's edge, adrenaline exploding.
All four tires bit into the last inch of rubber on the inside line. A flick of correction, like a goose landing on sand, and the car shot out of the corner.
"Perfect!"
"Absolute perfection! Braking, balance, steering, throttle everything was flawless!"
"Kai extracted every ounce of energy from the track, the car, and the tires. He just gave us a masterclass in driving technique at Turn 3."
"Russell held his position firmly, his line control was top-tier, but "
"Kai leads!"
"Kai exits half a car length ahead! He's done it! He's taken the lead!"
In a flash, goosebumps raced from Croft's feet to his scalp. He jumped up, clutching his face, shouting fanatically.
Chasing, fighting, stealing. It all happened in a single breath. Russell had been flawless, and yet he had still lost the lead.
Thump, thump.
Hearts pounded, ready to burst.
But was this the end?
No. Of course not. Although Kai and Russell had swapped positions, Kai hadn't pulled away. Russell hadn't given up.
You could see it now. Russell was confident, prepared. He was immovable in the face of any surprise. He would not surrender easily.
From Turn 3 to Turn 4 was another straight, similar to the run from Turn 1, but straighter. The cars could accelerate continuously, pushing to maximum velocity at the end.
Now, the positions were reversed. Kai led, Russell trailed. But clearly, Russell had used his line through Turn 3 to maintain his exit speed. He ensured Kai couldn't shake him off. He latched onto Kai's tail immediately, switching from defense to offense, trying to force Kai into a mistake.
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