21 Firewall

The message had been clear:

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

No sender. No traceable source. Just a warning — delivered with terrifying precision.

Luca Rossi sat at the far end of the team's technical office, staring at the lines of code Olivia had pulled from the car's diagnostic logs. His victory in Baku was tainted by the knowledge that they hadn't just beaten Veltrix — they had outrun a trap.

Barely.

And now they were being told to stay quiet. To comply.

But Luca never learned how to bow.

Monday – Back in England

The team returned to their Brackley headquarters, where the car was already up on the rig for teardown and analysis. Tom had beefed up security — access keycards, rotating passwords, even physical locks on the firmware consoles. Nothing left to chance.

"We're building a digital fortress," Olivia said. "One they can't penetrate again."

But Luca shook his head. "There's no such thing as 'can't' anymore. Only 'hasn't yet.'"

He looked at the code again. The injections weren't sloppy hacks. They were surgical. Elegant. The kind of digital sabotage that came with official access.

Only a handful of people on Earth could do it.

Fewer could cover it up.

Later that night, Olivia slid a stack of papers onto his desk.

"Financial records," she said. "Two sets. One's public. One's hidden."

Luca flipped through them. Sponsorship payouts. Licensing contracts. Equipment procurement. All standard.

Until page fourteen.

$1.7 million — transferred from a shell company based in Singapore to an account labeled Nova Strategies.

The owner of the account?

A mid-level FIA official.

And a former Veltrix employee.

Luca leaned back. "They're paying to sabotage the championship."

"Not just sabotage," Olivia said. "They're fixing it."

Thursday – Media Day

Before every Grand Prix weekend, there were obligations: press conferences, PR appearances, interviews.

Luca stood before the cameras in Austria, tight-lipped, the shadow of recent events still clinging to him.

A reporter asked, "Luca, there are rumors your team is under investigation for data theft. Care to comment?"

He stared straight ahead.

"No comment on rumors. But I'll say this — if someone's afraid of the truth, maybe they shouldn't be in motorsport."

The room went quiet.

Then another question: "Do you think F1 is still fair?"

Luca paused.

Smiled, without humor.

"I think racing is fair. The politics around it? Not so much."

Friday – Practice Sessions

Spielberg's Red Bull Ring was a short lap, but brutal. High speed. High stakes. Every mistake was amplified.

The car ran smoothly — eerily so.

"No signs of tampering," Olivia said after FP2. "Our firewall is holding."

Tom added, "We're using three layers of encryption on the telemetry now. Rotating keys every session. Anyone trying to spoof our data will have a hell of a time."

But Luca didn't relax.

Because he knew something was coming.

It always did.

Saturday – Qualifying

Rain rolled in over the Austrian mountains, turning Q3 into a roulette wheel. The track dried just enough for slicks, but the window was tiny.

Luca waited until the very last lap to strike.

His tires were warm. The circuit nearly dry. He hit every apex like a razorblade carving through fog.

Pole.

Again.

Voss? P3.

But it wasn't the leaderboard that caught Luca's attention.

It was the email Olivia received right after.

Subject: "Firewall Breached"

Body: "You were warned. See you Sunday."

Attached was a frame-by-frame breakdown of Luca's telemetry — from inside their secure network.

They'd broken through.

Again.

Race Day – Sunday

Red Bull Ring. Packed stands. Helicopters overhead. National anthems fading.

Luca sat in his cockpit, helmet on, breathing slow. Focused.

But his mind burned.

They had penetrated their firewall. The "digital fortress" was breached. That meant nothing — not one thing — was safe.

His throttle. His brakes. His steering.

All vulnerable.

Yet he still had to drive.

Because walking away was not an option.

Lights Out.

Perfect launch.

Clean through Turn 1. Maintained the lead.

But by Turn 4, the car started to drag on acceleration.

Only for half a second.

Then gone.

"Tom," Luca radioed. "Throttle delay. Momentary. Felt... artificial."

"We're seeing it too. Random cut-off, no signal loss. Could be a kill-switch protocol trying to activate."

"Override it."

"We're trying."

Voss was closing in.

Lap after lap.

He wasn't just fast. He was too fast.

Lap 28 — Voss attempted a dive into Turn 3.

Luca defended. Hard.

The cars kissed tires.

But Luca held.

Barely.

Tom came on the radio again. "We have a plan. Manual firmware loop-back. Might reset the intrusion. But it'll cost you two seconds next lap."

Luca thought for half a heartbeat.

"Do it."

Next lap: throttle delay. Brakes too sharp. Steering assist — gone.

But then...

Reset.

The car snapped back to life.

Power. Precision. Obedience.

Like waking from a nightmare.

Luca attacked.

Lap 42. He passed Voss with a slipstream and a late brake into Turn 1.

The move was surgical.

Voss didn't even resist.

Then came the twist.

Final lap. Turn 7.

Voss's car suddenly slowed. Drifted.

Yellow flag.

Virtual Safety Car deployed.

But Luca saw it with his own eyes on the track-side screen:

Voss's steering wheel — blinking red.

Power loss.

A software crash.

They'd been hit too.

Back in the garage, Olivia was yelling into her headset.

"Veltrix systems are failing. Multiple inputs corrupted. This isn't just us anymore — it's open warfare. Someone's playing both sides."

Tom turned to Luca.

"Someone's not loyal to them either. They're loyal to chaos."

Luca crossed the finish line first.

But it wasn't a win.

It was a warning.

That Night

Back at the hotel, Luca sat on his balcony as lightning danced over the mountains.

His phone buzzed.

Another anonymous message.

"Firewall. Firewall. Firewall.

We told you it would burn.

Silverstone will be your grave."

He didn't show it, but his hands clenched into fists.

Because now it wasn't just sabotage.

It was threats.

End of Chapter 21