The second set of tyres went on in three minutes and forty seconds.
Leo watched from the back of the garage as the engineers did their thing. Pete coordinated the change without raising his voice — four mechanics on the guns, two spotters calling clearance on each corner, one engineer logging the temperatures of the old compound as it came off.
Their work rate was efficient and well practiced. The kind of operation that looked simple because every person involved had done it enough times to remove every unnecessary movement from their own part of it.
The new compound caught the garage light as the final wheel went on. Pale. Unmarked. The full tread depth visible across the surface in clean, parallel grooves.
Leo looked at it the way he had looked at the pod before a ranking session.
One shot. Use everything. Leave nothing in the machine.
"Pressures are set," Pete said, standing from beside the rear-right. "Wing is unchanged. Brake bias at 51.8 as requested."
"Good," Leo said.
