Page 77 of Knot So Fast
I frown, scanning my mirrors even though I can't see that far back in the grid from pole position.
"What's going on with Kieran?" I ask my race engineer through the team radio.
The engineer—a competent guy named Harrison who's nowhere near as good as Dex but does his best—crackles through the headset.
"Second car is showing technical difficulties. Telemetry suggests... it's as if a part is missing or something? They're only noticing now, right before race start."
"And they're only noticing now?" I repeat, incredulity coloring my voice. "Right before the race? How does a Formula One team miss something like that in pre-race checks?"
Marcus's voice booms through the track speakers, his commentary reaching both the crowd and those of us in our cars.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have an unusual situation developing! Car number two has failed to join the grid, and with time running out, this could spell disaster for the Wolfe Racing Team!"
Of course he has to make it dramatic.
Everything is a performance, a show for the masses who tune in as much for the human drama as for the racing itself.
"What's particularly interesting," Marcus continues with barely concealed glee, "is that the listed driver for car two was Kieran Cross, who, as we all know, does NOT fulfill the new Omega requirement. So what was the plan here? Was this always doomed to fail?"
"Is there anything we can do?" I ask Harrison, already knowing the answer. "Do we have a third car?"
"We're working on it now," comes the tense reply. "Stand by."
As if responding to some cosmic cue, Marcus's voice rises with renewed excitement.
"Wait! Ladies and gentlemen, we have movement! A third car is approaching the track, making its way slowly but steadily toward the grid. It seems the Wolfe team had a backup plan after all!"
But Dex's voice cuts through the celebration, sharp with confusion.
"That's... interesting. Because Kieran Cross is currently visible down near the pit crew, fully suited but clearly not in that approaching car."
I crane my neck, catching sight of the large trackside screen that's panning across the pit lane. Sure enough, there's Kieran in full racing gear, helmet and all, looking as confused as everyone else about who's commandeering our third car.
The display board flickers, updating with the driver information for car three.
When the name appears, I feel my blood turn to ice water in my veins.
"Sugar&Spice"
"Fuck," I growl, my hands tightening on the steering wheel until my knuckles ache inside my gloves.
I slam my finger on the radio button, not caring who hears the fury in my voice.
"This better not be who I think it is, or she's in SO much fucking trouble."
Harrison sounds genuinely confused when he responds.
"She?"
Before I can elaborate on just how much trouble a certain amnesiac Omega is about to be in, another voice cuts through the team radio.
Female, confident, and achingly familiar despite the slight distortion of the communication system.
"It's me, Wolf, so focus on winning this thing because I'm not settling for anything less."
The entire team channel erupts in chaos.
Engineers, mechanics, strategists—all of them talking over each other in a cacophony of confusion and disbelief. In the commentary box, I can hear Marcus practically hyperventilating with excitement while Dex maintains his professional composure.
