“Go, go, go,” she muttered. “Don’t crash.”
“You’ve got this, my boy,” Angel said under his breath.
She couldn’t take her eyes off the screen as the entire team willed him to succeed.
Qualifying well would make the difference between fighting for the win tomorrow and damage limitation mode, letting Vince back into the championship. Now that Isaac was ahead in the standings, he might win the season. Not that they had ever discussed it outside of a press conference, but he had to be feeling the pressure.
The checkered flag was out, meaning that only the riders still on course for their final lap could improve their times. The rest were done already. Isaac lost the trailing Duc when the rider couldn’t run the Honda’s pace. It was all on Isaac now. He needed a last lap fast enough to beat at least one of the two riders at the top of the timesheet.
After the third interval of four, he still had a quarter of a second lead on their interval time, the screen showing his lap time in red. He was on pace to place first. He could do this.
As Isaac crossed the line, the pit crew erupted in a loud cheer and the fans crowded in the stands roared. He’d set a new lap record and qualified first, moving on to the second session with the top riders. Anna sagged in relief. If he hadn’t advanced, she felt like it would be her fault, though he would never say or think it. With the pace he’d shown, he would have been in Q2 already if he’d stayed at the track on Friday.
There wasn’t much turnaround time between the qualifying sessions. Isaac stayed quiet in the box, sitting at the back withhis air pods in, remaining in race mode while he focused on what he could control this weekend. He seemed impervious to her emotional roller coaster.
Angel directed the crew to mount a new soft tire on Isaac’s bike for the first part of Q2, their gamble of saving two having paid off. He had one for the first half of the session and the one they’d saved for the second half when all the riders would be in full time-attack mode.
Isaac left the instant the session started, a determined look on his face.
Anna’s heart was in her mouth, watching the riders on course once more. Vince appeared to be an unstoppable force on this counterclockwise track as well, throwing down the gauntlet with a lap time only two-thousandths off Isaac’s lap record. With ten minutes to go, someone would surely beat his time.
When Isaac came in for the mid-session tire change, she took a deep breath. He didn’t look right or left, but departed as soon as his bike was ready. This part was make or break. As usual, it came down to the final laps. Some riders finished, settling for places on rows three and four, but those that had timed things to perfection had one more lap and remained on track. This included Luka, Xavi, Vince, and Isaac.
Isaac was listed sixth so far and Vince was on pole. Vince crossed first of the final four, staying at the top, but smashing the previous best by four-tenths of a second—an unheard-of margin, even for such a dominant rider.
Xavi’s lap looked set to equal it for the first half, but he bobbled coming through Lukey Heights at turn nine. That left Isaac and Luka swooping through the long left turns at eleven and twelve before they thundered down the Gardner Straight toward the line. The front end of Luka’s bike wobbled, wasting valuable fractions of a second. Isaac flashed through the finishtwo-tenths shy of Vince’s record, setting a personal best and second overall—teeing up another Vasquez showdown.
CHAPTER 24
Isaac
Isaac usually paid no attention to anyone or anything on the grid as he listened to music until the last possible second, using it to drown out distraction. Today, he spared a glance for Anna holding his umbrella, her engagement ring sparkling in the sunlight. He caught her eye and winked. He was grateful to share his final MotoGP races with her. After today, he had only two more professional races, and he intended to enjoy them.
He got away clean, following Vince through the first several laps, trading places several times with Luka. This allowed Vince to pull a couple of bike lengths in front and stay there. Isaac found his rhythm and was feeling good. He was planning when to put a move on Vince when out of nowhere a seagull smashed into his bike—one of the random Phillip Island hazards.
Somehow, he kept his bike upright, and on the track as he shook off the unexpected collision. But he lost time and Luka shot ahead. With only three laps remaining, Isaac was alone and in a safe third place. He accelerated to get back on terms with Luka, but the kid sped away. After two laps, Isaac conceded. He couldn’t catch him. At least he hadn’t crashed. Finishing third meant another valuable sixteen points in the championship.
Vince won again, gaining nine points on Isaac, whose lead had shrunk to a slim margin. Isaac needed a solid finish in Malaysia, so he’d be leading going into the final race. Whilehe led the overall standings, part of him expected Vince’s rally. He wouldn’t be surprised if his brother won—he was the only twelve-time world champion for a reason.
With Spencer in jail, Anna seemed happier. Isaac hadn’t realized how much it had affected her day after day, just being on guard. That wasn’t the only positive news. Her lawyer had let her know Adam had vacated the townhouse before the specified date, and her firm had listed it for sale. Things were coming together in their lives.
The Malaysian Grand Prix at Sepang was the last of the ‘flyaway’ races, and Isaac was looking forward to returning home afterward for ten days before the last race in Valencia, Spain. He couldn’t wait to sleep in his own brand-new bed.
The Sepang race weekend proceeded like clockwork. Angel and the crew had the bike in top form, and Isaac qualified in third—another front-row start. The Sunday forecast had been for a mix of sun and showers, but they awoke to a gorgeous blue-sky day without rain clouds. Perfect for racing.
The first two-thirds of the race went well, and Isaac was in the mix for a podium finish, once again battling with Luka and Vince. For a split second, he hesitated, his mind wandering, and the next, he catapulted through the air. He landed hard on his back—the airbag inflating and preventing serious injury. He lay still in the gravel for a few seconds—the wind knocked out of him. A dust cloud hung over him, floating while he caught his breath. He smashed a fist to the ground. Damn.
He sat up, trying to rein in his emotions. Despite the crash, he was alive. The inattentive moment could have caused something so much worse. He couldn’t dwell, needing to put the crash from his mind.
Shuffling to his feet, already feeling where bruises bloomed, he stood and took stock. Nothing seemed painful enough to be broken or sprained. He determined he was fine and movedfarther from the track and took a couple of deep breaths, before checking to see if he could remount.
He glanced up the track, though all the riders had disappeared around the next bend in the track. He needed to salvage anything, even a point or two, but there was no possible way. His bike was destroyed, scattered into five or six pieces. He kicked the nearest chunk as he trudged toward the safety fence and the path beyond while trackside marshals dragged his shattered bike away. He took a breath. He’d had amazing luck all season. This crash had been due, but it wasn’t the end of the world. At least he was uninjured. Still, if only he hadn’t lost concentration. The championship had been there for the taking and if he wasn’t careful, it would slip from his grasp.
By the time he arrived at pit lane, the race had ended, and Vince had won, again.
Isaac did a quick calculation in his head. With his DNF and Vince’s twenty-five points for the win, he and his brother were tied with four hundred points each. Everything would come down to the final race. If Isaac won, how would Vince behave?
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