Asphyxiate (Lando Norris/AU)

Chapter 18

Lando

Driving in Jeddah has to be my least favourite thing to do.

There are maybe five main highways cutting through the city, and 3 million people equal a shit ton of cars on those five highways. Plus, this was the Middle East and the driving culture is a bit different from what I'm used to.

But three million people also means that if you want to hide something, you can do it without too much of an effort. What isn't easy to hide are five Formula One drivers and a former world champion back from the dead, on a race weekend in the same city where they're supposed to race.

It was always such a hassle, and one of the reasons Scott or Matt would usually come to us, so we could meet with a lot less effort, in a hotel room or an abandoned parking garage close to the hotels we were staying at. But this time they wanted to meet at a Network warehouse.

So I had to go through said hassle by sneaking out 5 drivers from the paddock during media day. Easy. It was an absolute shit show. And to make matters worse, two of them were from the same team.

Chloe almost had an aneurysm when I told her that both Carlos and Oscar had to leave at 4. I knew it would occupy her for the rest of the day to smooth things over with the media outlets and the PR team at McLaren, but right now I couldn't really be bothered to care.

Originally, Oscar was supposed to stay back and handle the press conference, but Matt had insisted that we all attended. That meant Carlos, Oscar, Charles, Alex, and Max were all cooped up in the tinted out minibus on our way to the warehouse.

Charles had been easy to sneak out. His charm and finesse made for a smooth getaway from the interview he was supposed to take part in, with Oliver as the perfect gullible cover, when he gladly stepped in for him without question.

Alex didn't have the same charm, but he fucked his PR manager on occasion, so she made an excuse for him and switched him for his teammate Franco in a jiffy.

Max just cut the game short. He was racing some toy car around the paddock against Yuki, who never noticed what the fuck was going on around him anyway. And I was sure the responsible for social media at Red Bull would edit the whole thing, so it would look like Max'd been a part of the whole thing anyway.

They were all bickering in the back of the car right now. Max was sleeping, of course, and Alex and Carlos were arguing who had the best aim with the guns currently tucked away safely from prying eyes in the back of their jeans.

It was Alex. Alex had the best aim.

Carlos was way too emotional and would always let himself get distracted with his obsession with commenting about everything around him. I stayed out of the discussion, though. Too occupied with getting us through the traffic, and sweating my ass off in my fake beard and wig.

I would have worn a ski mask if it was dark, but that was a couple of hours away, and I couldn't risk getting recognized. Charles did spend the majority of the first 20 minutes in the car bothering me about it, until I cocked my gun and showed it in his face at a stop light. Little shit.

"Finally," I groaned when I spotted the warehouse about an hour out of the city completely over their shit. I stopped the car once I manoeuvred it around the building to the back, where we could make an easy transition from the car to the door without anyone seeing us.

I turn the car off, take a deep breath and remove the beard and wig before stepping out in the dust, and make my way to the door, with the others in front of me. Max, unbothered and an empty look in his eyes next to Oscar equally stoic.