Full Throttle

002

Ajax Carver was photographed, profiled, dissected by the press and put together by his PR team before Race Two.

At 5:48am Sunday morning, the first thing he thought about wasn’t his race strategy, sector splits or the weather report for Monaco circuit.

It was Soléne’s voice saying: “I will call if you win. Good luck on Sunday,”

God, she looked perfect, she smelled perfect and even sounded perfect.

He stared at the ceiling of his hotel suite and smiled as he recalled that night. “I hope you’re ready for dinner, Soléne.” He said, believing this time around he wouldn’t let her walk away.

✦ ✦ ✦

“Look at the crowd here in Monaco! It’s a red and black sea of Redbull!” The speakers went loud as the live in commentators warmed up the audience.

Marco was in the paddock when Ajax arrived at the circuit. “Hope you had good sleep? Race begins in an hour.” Marco handed him a cup of coffee.

Ajax drank it and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Anything new?” He asked.

Marco grabbed a tablet and flipped over the screen. “You need mediums to start. Target lap fourteen for your first stop and softs for the final—"

"I know the strategy, Marco." Ajax cut him off and walked toward the garage.

Behind him, Ajax heard Marco mumble something in Italian about his stubbornness but he ignored him and entered the garage.

His sports car was already on the ground, his crew moved efficiently around the bright red vehicle and confirmed every part before he got it on the track.

His name was on the pit wall. The Carver Racing black and red expensive livery was on everything.

Ajax Carver wasn’t only a Formula 1 champion, he was also the successor to a multibillion dollar racing company owned by his mother.

Thirty minutes to race time, Marco and other race engineers gave the final briefing. Ajax stood at the whiteboard with his arms crossed and nodded at their statistics.

But his mind was really on Soléne as he wondered where they’d go tonight. Maybe a fancy restaurant that overlooked the Mediterranean sea.

He thought about what he’d wear, a tailored suit or a casual outfit.

What would he buy for her…flowers definitely but he needed something more to make her feel special.

“You good?” Luca caught him spacing out. “You want me to take this one?” He asked jokingly.

“Nah, I’m good.” Ajax fist bumped Luca’s shoulder and changed into his racing suit. The team checked his helmet seal and they helped to put it on.

“Alright, let’s bring home the win!” Luca clapped his hand and stirred up the team as Ajax wore his gloves.

He walked to his sports-car and climbed in and the cockpit settled around him nicely as all of it was built around his exact size and height.

Putting his visor down, he took a slow formation lap with twenty other opponent racers.

“They’re off on formation lap to warm their tires and brakes and we can see who looks confident!” A commentator said and the huge screens projected Ajax’s face.

His fans went crazy and chanted his stage name. “The Maverick! The Maverick! The Maverick!”

Cars lined in positions and all engines rumbled at 1100 spins per minute, building oil pressure as the red lights above the tracks stayed on.

“It’s five seconds on the board.” The commentator said and immediately the red lights turned off at once. “LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO!”

Ajax engaged first gear and slammed his feet on the pedal, sending his car into full throttle, going from 0 to 100km/h in 2.5 seconds.

“Maverick in car #9 gets a great start!” A camera followed beside the track and Ajax raced through Turn 1, already past the chicane when the board showed his score and number one position.

“Woah… he’s up twelve positions before Turn 1, breaking a new world record!” The commentator said and the crowd blasted in cheers.

“Ajax Carver! Ajax Carver!” Half of the circuit sang his name and anyone would be foolish to bet money against him winning.

Ajax cleared lap one then another racer, Ferreira came down a ramp which was either a brave or a reckless choice depending on whether it worked.

Ferreira landed next to him and Ajax gave him the exact amount of space required. However, Ferreira couldn’t keep up with Ajax and he slowly backed out.

“You’re in position one, your gap to Ferreira is two point three," Marco said on the radio. "Tyres are in the window, everything is green."

"Copy." Ajax exhaled and in seconds, he finished six laps as position one.

The crowd in the grandstands was a fast whoosh of color in the corner of his eyes, as tens of thousands of people filled the circuit.

"You holding the gap well, keep doing what you doing." Marco said to him as Ajax was, by every measure, winning.

Lap nine ended in four point one seconds and he gripped his wheel and kept his tires under control.

The wind at the tunnel entrance wasn’t tricky and Ajax trusted the aerodynamic, pushing in blindly and driving at 290km/h in total darkness.

"Back off slightly, the wind’s up at Portier.” Marco spoke through the radio as he approached Turn 8.

“The wind was prefect at the entrance. I need its momentum to win this race.” He retorted angrily as Ferreira began to gain on him.

“Ajax, the Portier’s sketchy. Lift back or you’ll lose 0.5 seconds per lap trying to recover.”

Marco’s words fell on deaf ears as Ajax exited the dark, the tunnel spat him into a blinding sunlight and the twisted Portier was up ahead.

He had zero room for error.

“Through the tunnel and into Portier. The Maverick keeps it flat on full throttle! That’s commitment to winning Race Two.” The commentators loved his energy on the track and the cameras captured the moment.

Ajax sped towards the fast right-hander, the harbor was on his left and a wall was treading alongside. Suddenly, the wind became stronger and snapped the back of his car.

He caught the shift, which was what separated him from other Formula 1 racers as he struggled to correct it before panicking.

“All eyes on Ajax Carver as he leads but lookout for Ferreira in position two as he gains ground!” The commentator announced and he saw Ferreira’s car getting closer in his sideview mirror.

The radio crackled and Marco spoke out in Italian “Slow the f**k down!” He yelled as Ajax was speeding above 300km/h towards the Portier.

“I can handle it.” Ajax increased the gap between him and Ferreira.

Air trapped underneath his front wing and he hit a patch of tarmac that was worn out by decades of brake marks.

“Shit.” He cursed at the bump, forcing overdrive against the wind, but his car tumbled into the sky and crashed into the wall barrier.

“HOLY MOLY, WHAT ON HELL WAS THAT?!” The commentators stood up in shock as a raging fire exploded from Ajax’s car.

The seatbelt and HANS device held his body from flying forward and slamming onto the dashboard.

“Arghhh!” Ajax screamed whilst inside the crushed cockpit, brunt fuel stung his eyes, thick smoke rose from the engine and a torn piece of metal pierced into his thigh.

The live broadcast was immediately cut off and switched to advertisement but viewers all around the world had seen everything happen.

Marco’s voice crackled through the radio but Ajax couldn’t understand him as the transmitter was broken.

He tried getting out but he couldn’t feel his legs anymore and fear ripped out him. “Help!” He cried out and more fire blew up in orange hues, licking his arms in burns.

Marshals arrived fast in fireproof suits and began the process of extinguishing the flames over Ajax Carver.

The medical professionals moved in and checked his vitals. “We are going to get you out of here, Ajax.” A female doctor said, stabilizing his neck and spine.

“I—I can’t feel my legs.” He cried and the doctor glanced at his lower limps crushed under the metal.

“We need an extraction team. Now!” She yelled as color drained from her face. “Get air support down here too!”

It didn’t need a genius to understand his injuries were severe and capable of making him disabled forever.

Ajax stared at his damaged dashbroad. He was on his twelfth lap, leading forty-one seconds ahead of others.

He was about to win. He was so close.

But he’d destroyed his perfect streak and his honor. The disgrace hurt more than the fresh burns on his arms and the piece of metal still lodged in his thigh.

Ajax wished he could wake up from this nightmare but if this wasn’t a dream, he wished he could die without having to face the shame of failure.

“Ajax, we are going to…” The female doctor said but the noises round him slowly faded, his eyes blurred, covering the edge of his vision and he blanked out.