20 Red Zone

Luca Rossi didn't believe in coincidences anymore.

Not after the sabotage, the encrypted hacks, the illegal systems buried deep in the Veltrix software. Not after learning the traitor wasn't just a mechanic or a tech assistant.

It was someone at the executive level.

Someone with a direct line to F1 management.

And now, the next race was taking place in Baku, a high-speed street circuit where one mistake could put a car — or a career — straight into the wall.

They called the section near Turn 15 the "Red Zone."

That name would come to mean much more.

Tuesday – Pre-Race Week

In the team's motorhome, Olivia slid a tablet across the table.

"Encrypted message logs between a senior F1 director and a Veltrix liaison. Coordinated manipulations. Data falsification. Possibly even bribes."

Luca's jaw tightened. "Do we leak it?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. We need more. Something irrefutable. If we jump too soon, they'll bury it. And us."

Tom chimed in, "We've got eyes on the rest of the garage. Full lockdown. No more leaks. But Luca, you need to be careful. You're not just racing drivers anymore — you're racing politics."

Friday – Practice 1

Baku's long straights demanded raw engine power, but the tight castle section tested concentration like a scalpel. Luca's car felt dialed in. Clean, precise, obedient.

Almost... too perfect.

He didn't trust it.

Halfway through FP1, the car twitched in Turn 7 — a left-hander taken at high speed. The data came back clean, but Olivia frowned.

"Sensor reads normal," she said. "But the oscillation in the suspension was real. Could've been mechanical... or software interference."

They were being watched, even now.

Saturday – Qualifying

Luca attacked the circuit like a surgeon with a scalpel. Each lap was sharp, deliberate. On his second Q3 run, he pushed flat-out through Sector 2, threading the car inches from the barrier.

P1.

By 0.002 seconds.

Voss was behind again.

But as Luca pulled into parc fermé, a man in a dark suit approached. FIA badge. Legal Affairs.

"Mr. Rossi. We need to speak."

Luca raised an eyebrow. "Now?"

The man handed him a sealed envelope. "You're under preliminary investigation. Allegations of unauthorized access to Veltrix technical data."

Luca's heart stopped.

They were flipping the script.

Turning the hunter into the hunted.

That Night

The team huddled in a closed-off room at the back of the paddock. Olivia paced. Tom swore under his breath.

"They're setting you up," she said. "Using the data we uncovered — twisting it. Making it look like we were the ones hacking."

Luca stayed quiet, then finally said, "So they want me off the grid."

"Worse," Tom said. "They want you disgraced."

Sunday – Race Day

The investigation was ongoing, but there wasn't enough to bar him from racing — not yet. But the whispers had started. Journalists pounced. Sponsors asked questions. Cameras lingered too long.

Luca entered the grid in total silence, helmet on early. Focus locked.

This wasn't just a race.

This was survival.

The lights went out.

Luca launched perfectly.

First into Turn 1.

Behind him, Voss gave chase — again.

But this time, Veltrix had changed their approach.

Voss wasn't attacking.

He was waiting.

Biding his time.

Lap 7 — VSC.

A minor crash brought out the virtual safety car.

On Lap 9, it was lifted — and the moment it ended, Luca's car hiccuped.

A stutter.

A moment of zero throttle.

Olivia screamed into the radio: "Throttle map just rewrote itself! Code injection mid-race!"

"They're in the car again?"

"Only someone inside FIA could've accessed the secure firmware during lockdown. This is internal, Luca."

The realization hit like a slap.

They didn't just want to beat him.

They wanted to end him.

Lap 15.

Voss passed — cleanly, with full ERS deploy. Luca had no defense.

He felt like a passenger in his own machine.

But he didn't give up.

He switched to manual modes. Overrode systems with tactile inputs designed for emergencies.

The car bucked and surged — angry, but still alive.

He hunted Voss again.

By Lap 40, Luca was on his tail.

Baku's long straight approached.

He hit the tow, ducked left — Voss covered.

Luca switched back right.

Late braking into Turn 1.

Wheel to wheel.

Luca pulled ahead.

The crowd roared.

But inside, Luca was cold.

Focused.

Predator and prey had changed roles again.

Final Laps – The Red Zone

Turn 15.

The wall was inches away at 280 km/h.

Luca took the corner wide to avoid debris.

Then — a blur.

A figure.

A drone?

No — a camera rig mounted outside the permitted area.

It flashed. Blinding.

Luca twitched.

The car clipped the curb.

Oversteer.

Correction.

Missed the wall by inches.

A deliberate attempt to distract.

"Tom — someone set up illegal lighting at Turn 15!"

"We saw it. Local marshal's crew never approved it. They're calling it in."

Too late.

One lap left.

Final Lap

Voss attacked again — desperate.

He dove into Turn 3, forcing Luca wide.

They touched wheels.

Luca held his line — just.

Back straight.

Luca defended hard.

Into the castle section — too narrow for passing.

Into the kink.

Voss overcooked it — clipped the inside wall.

Shattered suspension.

He spun out.

Gone.

Luca flew alone into the final sector.

Checkered Flag.

Victory.

But Luca didn't raise a fist.

He pulled into the garage, parked the car, and stepped out quietly.

The paddock was silent — shocked.

The predators had struck again.

But this time, Luca had survived.

Later That Night

Olivia entered with a flash drive.

"It's all here," she whispered. "The camera rig, the firmware access, the anonymous money transfers to a race director's offshore account."

Luca stared at the screen.

Then finally — "Time to go public."

But before they could act, a message appeared on Olivia's laptop.

Encrypted.

Unsigned.

"If you release that data, your car doesn't finish another race. Ever."

It wasn't just sabotage anymore.

It was war.

End of Chapter 20