Shue stepped onto the deck facing the early morning sunshine. It had rained overnight. The air smelled fresh and clean. A friend of Eva's owned the massive yacht which was anchored in the cove next to the Monaco track. The former model had lots of glamorous wealthy friends. Shue couldn't yet afford the boat that ferried him and the other guests back and forth to the shore. He'd never be rich enough to afford a yacht like the one under his feet. This kind of wealth usually took generations to accumulate, apart from a couple dozen tech billionaires that had stormed into the realm of the super-rich.

As he did his morning stretches, Shue watched the race marshals and track workers scurry around making preparations for the practice sessions that would begin in a few hours. He was excited to get onto the track. He'd won here twice in Formula 2. This track suited his technical driving style.

Simulator training had gone well. For the first time he'd posted faster hot-lap times than Ronaldo. Though, he was aware, the wily veteran might be keeping a little speed in his pocket. He'd find out during the all-important qualifying sessions. Ronaldo had won here six years earlier, driving for Ferrari. Pole position in Monaco often resulted in winning the race since passing is so difficult on the tight course.

Ronaldo was very demanding about his car's setup. The veteran didn't like changes and Monaco required many setup changes. Shue didn't mind adjusting his driving to suit the car, after all, just four years earlier he'd been driving karts. His F1 Alfa Romeo was and is the most amazing car he'd ever driven, no matter the setup. That didn't mean that he just got into the car and drove it with whatever setup they gave him. He had preferences. Shue liked a little understeer to his cars, whereas Ronaldo went with a subtle oversteer bias. Brake pedal force and throw length for Shue was longer with less resistance than Ronaldo's setup. While the two cars had identical mechanical specs, they each drove differently to suit their drivers. This was true for every team.

Everything in these miraculous marvels of engineering was adjustable and many adjustments could be made on the fly with the touch of a button. Several different braking, shifting and suspension setups were programed into the cars. The engineers analyzed data in real time while the race was in progress. Information was passed on to the drivers as to which program would suit the track best on the day or even for a section of the track. In addition to steering, accelerating, shifting, braking, with-standing the g-forces on high-speed turns, weather conditions, tire degradation, keeping the car on the fastest lines, not hitting or being hit by other cars, operating the DRS system, drivers also had many setup programs to deal with.

Stretching his legs between sessions, Shue checked the timing board to see who made it to Q2. He spotted Vasilev's McLaren in twelfth position. 'That's a surprise', he thought. She'd done all right at Imola but Shue still wasn't convinced about her ability. He walked past the McLaren pits, which were right next to Alfa Romeo, thinking he might stop in and say hello to Martin LaConte.

He didn't see Martin but noticed that Vasilev was still in her car. She was speaking intently to Ben Forrester, who momentarily glanced in his direction. Shue nodded, continuing past not wanting to disrupt the conversation. He'd met with the McLaren team principal a couple times before signing with Alfa Romeo. McLaren had been his second choice, well third if you included Ferrari. He'd dreamt of driving the bright red legendary cars since he was a kid. Even though they'd been struggling for a couple years, he'd break his contract with Alfa Romeo in a second if an offer came in from Ferrari. Sadly, no serious offer ever had.

Like the Ferraris his Italian racecar was also red, dark red. As good as the Alfa Romeos are and they were great this year, they are not Ferraris. Ferrari enjoyed such a rich tradition on and off the track. There was magic in the Prancing Horse badge and Ferrari name that no other automobile manufacturer on or off the track enjoyed.

Qualifying session two went well. Shue drove a good first lap and stood atop the leaderboard until the end of the session when LaConte posted a blistering time, setting a new track record. In his final lap of the session, Shue had another good lap but only improved his time by six one thousandths, settling for second fastest.

Q3 would start in a few minutes, giving the remaining ten cars just enough time to change to soft tires and make a few tiny adjustments.

Shue stayed in the car this time. Over the radio, Tommy filled him in on the results of Q2.

"Peroni drove his Aston Martin fast enough to place third, Severinsen moved his Ferrari up into fourth position, Ronaldo only managed fifth, Vicario put in another fine lap good enough for sixth, followed by Reitman in the number 21 Mercedes."

"I know which cars the guys are driving, Tommy," Shue cut him off.

"Of course, sorry, it's just that I'm used to telling the results to my dad over the phone," Barry sputtered, then continued. "In the eighth position is Andersson in the Alpine, as you know, Moreau in the other Aston Martin, sorry, is nineth, and on her final lap of the session Vasilev displaced Qwang, Kwing, Qiane, sorry I don't know how to pronounce QQ's name, he always says it so fast."

"It's Qiang Qiao," Shue pronounced it slowly.

"Qiyang," Tommy tried.

"Just call him Q-two, everyone else does."

"Clever," Tommy said. "He doesn't mind?"

"No," Shue said. "We started calling him that the first time he made it into Q2 and it stuck."

"Okay," Tommy said. "Vasilev nicked Q-two by a couple thousandths of a second to nab the final spot in Q3."

"Close."

"My dad will be thrilled, Nikita is his new favorite driver." Tommy said. There was silence for a few seconds. "She's not my favorite though, you are."

"Thanks," Shue chuckled, "How long until Q3?"

"About a minute and a half," Tommy reported. "You'll be third out this time."

"Okay."