Page 139 of Overtake
“Gap under one second,” Roxana reports just as the DRS indicator lights up on his display and a beep sounds in his ear.
The chase continues through sector 1, both drivers pushing limits in the thin air. Petra defends perfectly. Every corner, every braking zone calculated to maintain her advantage, though he keeps carving off fractions of seconds.
“Ten laps remaining,” Rox updates. “Gap holding at zero point eight.”
“What’s the gap to Reece?”
“Twelve point nine.”
Through turn 4, Nico finds a better line, closing slightly. She counters through 5, using just enough track to keep position without compromising her exit speed.
“Watch the brake temperatures, Nico.” Roxana warns.
“Yeah. I see it.”
The altitude takes its toll on everything—power units strain, brakes work harder, drivers tire faster. Behind them, Reece and Wyn maintain their positions, still fighting for the final podium spot.
“Eight laps,” Roxana counts down.
“Bien.Let me drive now, Rox.”
DRS signals again.
This time he’ll make it happen.
Into turn 1, Nico tries the outside line, forcing Petra to defend inside. The move costs her exit speed, bringing him closer through the next turn.
He activates DRS down the straight and this time when she defends inside, he’s ready. They hit the hard left-hander through turn 4, carrying more speed on the outside line. For a moment they’re parallel, neither yielding.
Then Nico pulls ahead, but only just. Petra’s already looking for the counter-attack, her car appearing in his mirrors like a heat-seeking missile.
“Nice job, Nico,” Roxana says.
He glances at his display. Four laps left.
They unfold like a masterclass in close racing. Petra probes for weaknesses, never quite close enough for DRS but never falling away. Every corner requires perfect execution. One small error and she’ll pounce.
Two laps remain.
She tries a different line through turn 12, searching for any advantage. He counters, using just enough track to maintain position without compromising his exit.
“Final lap, Nico. Bring it home.”
The last tour feels eternal. Each braking zone, each apex, each moment is crucial. Petra’s still there, still pushing, stillracing exactly as it should be done. But her tires are spent and the gap opens just enough to give Nico some breathing room.
Around turn 17, then his car screams across the line to the chequered flag.
“P1, Nico. Brilliant drive.”
“¡Vamos!”Nico pumps his fist as he flies past the grandstands. Spanish and Mexican flags wave for him.
“Where did Wyn finish?”
“P3. A squeaker down to the end.”
“Muy bien.”
Through the cool-down lap, Petra pulls alongside and raises two fingers—bunny ears. He laughs despite his exhaustion.
