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.Wyatt was half-asleep when the first light of dawn broke across the boat.Carlos was sleeping on the deck, and Emerson lay wide awake against a pile of coiled rope.His eyes darted around nervously.‘Where are we going?’‘To repay some debts,’ Wyatt answered quietly.JuneRicardo could not remember the last time he had been to church, the last time he had made confession.But as he walked away from the austere building, he felt a kind of peace.He was at the heliport within fifteen minutes, and took the chopper up on his own.He did not want the pilot with him.He looked down over the sprawling expanse of Silverstone and saw the long queues of cars snaking off into the distance.It would be a good race for them, he thought, and he would be in a fine position to win it, starting in pole position.Silverstone was one of his favourite circuits.An old airfield, it looked unremarkable from above, but on the ground it was a totally different story.Most of the corners were very quick and could be taken in top gear at speeds between 150 and 165 mph.He did not move immediately towards the landing area, but instead swept around the circuit, his eyes searching carefully.He passed over the Express Bridge.Eventually, he put the chopper down in the landing area in the centre of the circuit.He made his way quickly to the Calibre-Shensu garage and was greeted by Bruce de Villiers.‘How’re you feeling, Ricardo?’‘Very confident.It’ll be a good race.’Bruce nodded, watching him closely.‘I think the Shadow will come into her own here.Are you still worried about what happened at Monza?’‘No.It will not happen again.’No, it will not happen thought Ricardo.Only I know why Ibuka died.Only I have to live with that.‘Jack would like to have a word with you,’ Bruce said.‘He’s in the motorvan.’Ricardo walked over to the huge mobile palace decorated in the arresting black Calibre-Shensu livery.He wondered, not for the first time, where Suzie von Falkenhyn had disappeared to.He had a funny feeling that Phelps might know.Anyway, it didn’t matter.Nothing mattered any longer.He stepped into the air-conditioned silence of the motorvan and made his way down the thickly carpeted aisle to the lounge.Phelps was sitting on a couch in front of the rear window.‘Ricardo, it’s good to see you.’They did not shake hands, and Ricardo remained standing.‘Sit down, my friend, we need to talk.’Ricardo sat on the edge of the couch.‘What is it you want to know?’ he asked.‘I wondered, maybe, if Chase had been in touch with you?’‘Chase? He hates me.’Phelps smiled.‘I don’t want you involved in any of this drugs business,’ he said.Ricardo leaned against the back of the couch.God, what was Phelps playing at? What would happen if Phelps found out about Talbot?‘Have a good race, my friend.’‘It will be my greatest victory, you will see, eh?Ricardo left the motorvan with his mind in turmoil.What the hell was Phelps getting at?Bruce de Villiers waved to him.‘Ricardo, there’s someone to see you.He’s in the car park.You can’t miss him, he looks as if he’s just had a major head operation.’He made his way out to the car park and saw a man sitting in a Mercedes-Benz with his head swathed in bandages.‘You want me?’ Ricardo asked, going up to the window.‘Get in, arsehole.’Ricardo gripped the roof of the car as he heard Talbot’s distinctive voice.‘Get in.’Ricardo opened the passenger door and slid down onto the leather seat next to Talbot.‘You read about the revolution in Colombia?‘Yes?’‘We organised it.We’ve just about cornered the market.’‘But you, you are with Interpol.’‘That was a lie.Interpol gathers, collates and disseminates information - it doesn’t have field operatives.Wise up, buster.You’re in deeper than you think.’‘I want nothing to do with this.’ Ricardo was shaking.Talbot smiled.‘The street price has doubled already.’ Ricardo tried to open the passenger door, but it was locked.‘The genius of modern electronics, my friend.I decide when you leave the car.’Ricardo was trembling.‘I will not make another delivery,’ he stammered.‘I have statements from two Carvalho employees that you arranged for Ibuka’s car to be fitted with defective tyres.A mistake was made, however, and one was fitted to your machine with near-fatal consequences.’‘You lying bastard!’‘Yes, that’s exactly what every motoring journalist in the world will be saying about you if they ever learn the truth.’The 120,000-strong capacity crowd waited patiently for the start of the Foster’s British Grand Prix.Thousands of banners and flags were held high by the supporters of the different teams.There wasn’t a cloud in the sky - it was as perfect as only an English summer’s day can be.The five-minute signal came up, and the race director checked that the cars were in their correct positions on the grid.Ricardo sat in the cockpit, waiting for the opportunity to prove himself again.To prove that he could still win.The three-minute signal came up and everyone, except for the most important team members, cleared off the grid.Bruce whispered some last-minute instructions to him.The one- minute signal came up.There was the crazy roar of noise as all the cars on the grid fired into life.The thirty-second board and the green flag were held up to indicate the commencement of the warm-up lap.Ricardo pulled off, careful neither to over-rev nor to stall the engine.He liked this circuit.God, it felt good to be leading the pack.The Shadow felt perfectly set up - just how Ricardo liked it.The Carvalho tyres were bedding in nicely - constructed from a slightly tougher compound than before.Ricardo knew that, with copybook driving, they would last the race.The warm-up lap over, he lay in first position on the grid and observed that the race director was in position on the starter’s gantry.The overhead start-light changed to red.Ricardo felt his heart pounding.The start-light turned to green.The Shensu V12 screamed out as he punched down hard on the accelerator and felt the tyres bite into the track.A choir of twenty-six unleashed engines united in a single, deafening chorus.Their tyres gripped hard, leaving thick black smears across the track.The cars weaved and dodged their way towards the Foster’s Bridge.De Rosner tried to out-accelerate him as they went under the Foster’s Bridge, but the McCabe was no match for the Shadow [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]