Race :: Round 41 - Belgium Overtakes!

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Suddenly, Victor Hugo Stéphane guns the engine of his great yellow Duesenberg – the American 8 cylinder responds with a throaty roar and leaps forward, closely rapidly on the Norwegian Bugatti. Trying to hold off the Beglian, Teide Sorolla-Ledaal presses forward toward the final curve, he stays to the left, in hopes of forcing the Belgian to the inside and slower. His tire chains, long an advantage in the race, hold him back as the little Bugatti is unable to make the curve. Nothing can stop the Belgian, who cuts inside and overtakes, entering the curve with incredible speed. It looks like the Belgian has it! This could the key moment of the race – can the Volcán place anything but second now without some sort of miracle?

Italy presses deep into the chicane with Germany hot behind. Hegkman's white Bugatti looks better positioned, but anything can happen on this section of the narrow, tree-lined raceway. The Italian must downshift hard to keep the Maserati from overshooting and piling into the trees, yet he does it with perfection. The driving prowess of Sebi Orsi shows clearly in this section of the course.

At Lekböjen, close to the flaming wreck of his car, Vitez Rychly tries to pull himself forward, but he cannot. The pain is too great. Suddenly, he hears the soft crunch of footsteps in the snow approaching from behind. The sound is still distant, but he recognizes it can only be one thing – the German gunman coming to deliver the coup de grace. For an instant, Rychly recalls the old days, when he still carried his Czech-made revolver. He left that behind in Prague, his days of scrapping among the lesser drivers in mountain racing long behind him. The footsteps stop and he hears a heavily accented voice calling to him. “Vitez!” The accent is that of the German gunman. He calls again, “Vitez – Auf Wiedersehen.” A single shot rings out.

Back at Storkurvan, Aristide La Fontaine skids out of the curve, making an incredibly adept slide to prevent a disastrous overshoot. With this, he is positioned to take the curve at Lekböjen. With caution, he eyes the flames, now a reddening glow – it is a gasoline fire. He wonders which driver it was and if the man had escaped the inferno somehow. No driver could survive that. Left or right? Which route will be best?

The Portuguese car, in the hands of Pedro Gomes, cuts to the inside in a bid to catch the Frenchman. Close by, the British and Finnish drivers vie for position, only inches apart as they come around Storkurvan. The Britisher has the advantage as the Finn has too much speed to hold to the curve on the inside line. He must slow and yield, giving Milk the lead for the moment. Once again, Myrsky falls into the all too familiar last place.... Yet, the race is far from over for these cars, a knot of four racers far off the pace of the leaders.

Race :: Round 40 - Explosion at Lekböjen!

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The Norwegian driver, Teide Sorolla-Ledaal, shifts up and attempts to break away toward the final curve. Grinding his clutch, he sputters forward. The little Bugatti coasts out lamely onto the pine-lined straight, losing all momentum. Directly behind, the Belgian Duesenberg powers through the chicane and closes rapidly. Victor Hugo can smell the exhaust pipes of the fiery Volcán now – he looks likely to overtake for a victory! But will the Norwegian somehow hold on? This is going to be a close one!

Germany presses on staidly as Sebi Orsi's Italian Maserati leaps forward in high gear. Suddenly, the Italian's red hot nature takes hold and the Maserati burns past the German in 5th gear, carrying incredible speed. Hegkman falls back to 3rd position, as he watches the Italian's red scarf snapping in the breeze. The two cars are now in the narrowest part of the course as they approach the chicane.

Meanwhile, at Lekböjen, Vitez Rychly scrambles away from the growing pool of gasoline. Another gunshot rings out. The bullet could have easily hit him, but instead it appears that it was fired purposefully to miss. He glances up to see the bullet ricochet off the under body of his orange Bugatti, sparking brightly. In an instant, he realizes that the German is attempting to set fire to his racer! The gas ignites with a sudden whoosh and the the ice and car are aflame.... Had Rychly slipped again, he would have been in the inferno, but now the car blocks the track amidst the flames. Rychly scrambles toward the far snowbank, the smoke shielding him from the shooter's wrath. He hears another shot – suddenly his left leg gives out from under him and he falls to the ice. Looking down, he sees blood on his thigh.... Through the smoke, the German shooter took a lucky shot and somehow hit him. He turns to crawl toward the snowbank, the heat of the flames too close.

Meanwhile, back at Storkurvan, Aristide La Fontaine shifts down and yet still skids deep into the curve. The Frenchman cannot seem to time his entries into any of the curves today – perhaps it is because of the ice or perhaps the tuning of the great blue Salmson racer if off. Aristide curses – but then stops as he sees a fireball erupt directly ahead on the track. Are there any lanes open? Perhaps the rightmost side? Or perhaps through the smoke on the left? He cannot tell.... He reaches for the gear shift handle and wonders what has happened, remembering Nice. He can see nothing, but wonders – could it be Rychly's car in a wreck at the snowbanks?

Farther back, The Portuguese and British drivers cruise into the big curve with near perfection, while Finland again falls just short. Forced to the inside, he must now take the curve on the wrong racing line, though he has slight advantage on British car.