often, in fact he can’t think of a time in the last five years when he has been thunderstruck by the sight of a woman, but it’s happening right now and it’s a doozy. His chest feels full, his head feels light and he can’t take his eyes off her—until she notices him gawking and returns a stern glare.
Ohhh, that’s not good.
Billy quickly looks away and continues walking.
Time speeds up.
‘How in the hell did you get the job?’
Billy turns and takes in the familiar face before him. He’s never met the guy but knows exactly who he is from seeing him on television. Roger Thorne is Iron Rhino’s team principal, a wiry, bespectacled Brit who isn’t much older than thirty and was hired by Dieter to run the squad on a daily basis. He has the sour expression of a guy who just found out about a new reserve driver he’s never met who’s been forced on him by his boss.
‘Well I was driving in Australia —’
‘It was a rhetorical question.’ Thorne speaks with a sharp tone. ‘I don’t care how you got the job. What I do care about is that you stay silent and keep out of the way of my team. Is that clear?’
‘Crystal.’
The Brit turns to leave.
‘I just have one question.’
The Brit stops, irritated. ‘What?’
Billy looks him in the eye and keeps his voice low: ‘Did you know your fly’s undone?’
Thorne’s face flushes red as his hand drops to his fly. He finds that it is, indeed, undone, zips it, then turns and heads towards the Iron Rhino garage without saying a word.
Wow, what an epic tosser.
His second for the day. Billy’s been at the track for less than an hour and he’s already managed to piss off two people, the uppity Frenchman and that nasty Brit, and a third if you count the stern look the jolie laide girl served him a few moments ago.
On the upside he may have found the key to solving this case by looking for groups who work together. It would seem his father was right, interesting stuff does happen when you walk the paddock. Billy instinctively looks up at the blue sky, not because his long-departed father was religious and believed in heaven or anything like that, but because Billy likes to think the old bastard is always looking down at him with a proud smile.
Billy continues his tour along pit road until he sees two screens set up in the rear section of the Lotus garage. One displays a blank timing board, waiting for the qualifying session to begin but the other shows an image of the Petronas Towers. The local network has interrupted its Formula One coverage because there’s a breaking news story. A ticker scrolls across the bottom of the screen and Billy reads it aloud: ‘Initial police reports indicate a robbery in progress at the Petronas Towers—oh Christ!’
Could that be the Three Champions?
Why not? Their mid-morning heist on Collins Street displayed an unblinking bravado, why wouldn’t they try one at the Petronas Towers, once the tallest buildings on the planet?
For Billy, two problems immediately present themselves. The first is that he needs a car to get to the Petronas Towers and he doesn’t have one. He’s in the middle of a racetrack with some of the fastest, most advanced vehicles on the planet but doesn’t have access to any of them. Why did he let the Frenchman drive him out here? He should have hired his own bloody car. The second problem is that he doesn’t know where the Petronas Towers are located and how long it will take him to reach there. He pulls out his iPhone, swipes it open, taps into the map app and works the screen. The information appears quickly. The towers are sixty-two kilometres away, or forty-five minutes drive time.
Forty-five minutes!
It’s too far away. The robbery will take four point five minutes, not forty-five. He’s missed it.
What should I do?
He’ll go anyway. You never know what might happen. He turns and
Ohhh, that’s not good.
Billy quickly looks away and continues walking.
Time speeds up.
‘How in the hell did you get the job?’
Billy turns and takes in the familiar face before him. He’s never met the guy but knows exactly who he is from seeing him on television. Roger Thorne is Iron Rhino’s team principal, a wiry, bespectacled Brit who isn’t much older than thirty and was hired by Dieter to run the squad on a daily basis. He has the sour expression of a guy who just found out about a new reserve driver he’s never met who’s been forced on him by his boss.
‘Well I was driving in Australia —’
‘It was a rhetorical question.’ Thorne speaks with a sharp tone. ‘I don’t care how you got the job. What I do care about is that you stay silent and keep out of the way of my team. Is that clear?’
‘Crystal.’
The Brit turns to leave.
‘I just have one question.’
The Brit stops, irritated. ‘What?’
Billy looks him in the eye and keeps his voice low: ‘Did you know your fly’s undone?’
Thorne’s face flushes red as his hand drops to his fly. He finds that it is, indeed, undone, zips it, then turns and heads towards the Iron Rhino garage without saying a word.
Wow, what an epic tosser.
His second for the day. Billy’s been at the track for less than an hour and he’s already managed to piss off two people, the uppity Frenchman and that nasty Brit, and a third if you count the stern look the jolie laide girl served him a few moments ago.
On the upside he may have found the key to solving this case by looking for groups who work together. It would seem his father was right, interesting stuff does happen when you walk the paddock. Billy instinctively looks up at the blue sky, not because his long-departed father was religious and believed in heaven or anything like that, but because Billy likes to think the old bastard is always looking down at him with a proud smile.
Billy continues his tour along pit road until he sees two screens set up in the rear section of the Lotus garage. One displays a blank timing board, waiting for the qualifying session to begin but the other shows an image of the Petronas Towers. The local network has interrupted its Formula One coverage because there’s a breaking news story. A ticker scrolls across the bottom of the screen and Billy reads it aloud: ‘Initial police reports indicate a robbery in progress at the Petronas Towers—oh Christ!’
Could that be the Three Champions?
Why not? Their mid-morning heist on Collins Street displayed an unblinking bravado, why wouldn’t they try one at the Petronas Towers, once the tallest buildings on the planet?
For Billy, two problems immediately present themselves. The first is that he needs a car to get to the Petronas Towers and he doesn’t have one. He’s in the middle of a racetrack with some of the fastest, most advanced vehicles on the planet but doesn’t have access to any of them. Why did he let the Frenchman drive him out here? He should have hired his own bloody car. The second problem is that he doesn’t know where the Petronas Towers are located and how long it will take him to reach there. He pulls out his iPhone, swipes it open, taps into the map app and works the screen. The information appears quickly. The towers are sixty-two kilometres away, or forty-five minutes drive time.
Forty-five minutes!
It’s too far away. The robbery will take four point five minutes, not forty-five. He’s missed it.
What should I do?
He’ll go anyway. You never know what might happen. He turns and
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