Nikita smoothly eased out of turn nineteen, the left tires kissing the outside curb as she began accelerating down the straight. Most of the track was singing to her now. Only turns five and six hadn't perfectly fit into the unique rhythms playing in her mind but they were close. The symphony was almost complete.

She'd posted a good enough time during Q3 to be sixth on the grid for the race. Martin had secured a spot in the second row, P3. Wheeler would start in the pole position beside the other Alfa Romeo. The two Aston Martins occupied the row behind her in seventh and eighth.

At the start Nikita got away smoothly, her car pulling even with the fifth place Mercedes. She had the inside line advantage as they approached turn one. Reitman held his nerve and skillfully negotiated the tricky first turn wheel to wheel with the McLaren. They raced up the hill, still side-by-side through the gently sweeping second turn. Nikita nosed ahead but this time Reitman had the inside advantage at turn three and he used it. The Mercedes forced her car wider than she'd planned. Room along the wall quickly evaporated. Nikita lifted her foot off the accelerator. The Mercedes surged ahead and solidified fifth place.

"Reitman, one point two seconds ahead," Lawrence reported on the sixth lap. "Peroni has dropped back to one point six seconds."

"Understood." Nikita focused on the track, always looking ahead to the next curve or corner. The fastest driving lines on the tight city-street course brought the car very near the wall on many occasions each lap. A lapse in concentration could end the race early, or worse. Nikita made up some valuable ground over the next two laps.

"Reitman point nine seconds ahead," Lawrence told her. "DRS available."

"Understood," Nikita answered, watching the car ahead reappear as she rounded turn eighteen. The rear spoiler disappeared again seconds later into corner nineteen. Her inner tune's tempo increased as she pushed to get closer.

Only quick reactions saved her as the rear wheels momentarily broke loose coming out of nineteen. The back left tire kissing the wall as it regained traction.

"I touched the wall," she reported.

"Everything looks a-okay," Lawrence immediately answered. Even the slightest contact with the wall or another car at these speeds can damage suspension or puncture a tire.

"Okay," she sighed in relief, shifting from fifth to sixth.

Fortunately, she hadn't lost any momentum during the incident. The gap to the car in front evaporated quickly. Nikita feigned a move to the outside but ducked inside as Reitman moved to block her advance. DRS activated, the faster McLaren flew past the Mercedes.

"Well done, that's P5," Lawrence said, excitedly. "Severinsen is next, two point six ahead."

She caught just a glimpse of the Ferrari as she started up the hill toward turn two and three.

Nikita boxed on lap forty-nine like most of the cars on the grid. The threat of rain hadn't materialized. All the teams had intermediate wet and full wet tires standing by to be used in the event there was some or a lot of precipitation during the race. Her well-worn hard compound tires were exchanged for medium slicks since the sun was still shining over Monte Carlo.

"Is the car alright?" Lawrence asked a lap later, glancing at the green lights on the board in front of him. "I hear a noise."

"That was me," Nikita chuckled. She was in the zone, the Monaco symphony completed.

"You're humming," Lawrence said more to himself than her. He then remembered hearing very faint noises at Imola which, at the time, he'd decided must have been crowd murmurs. "Carry on."

On the fifty-first lap a big change happened in front of Nikita. The lead four cars all boxed. She'd been starting to make up some ground on Severinsen, hoping to be back within a couple seconds of the Ferrari after he boxed.

Instead, she found herself staring at the back of the other McLaren. Her teammate had emerged from the pits just ahead of her as they approached turn one. Martin must have had a problem. Last she'd heard from Lawrence, Martin was enjoying a comfortable five second lead over Severinsen.

This changed things.

"Permission to race?" Nikita asked.

Several long seconds passed.

"Granted," Lawrence answered. "No contact."

"Understood," Nikita replied.

Three laps later, DRS open, she pulled alongside the other McLaren. This time she had the outside line going into turn one. She'd been generous with Reitman sixty odd laps earlier giving the other car ample room throughout the turn. Her teammate wasn't as generous, squeezing her close to the wall hoping she'd back off. She didn't.

Wheel-to-wheel the McLarens raced through turn two. This time Nikita had the inside line for turn three. She took advantage, just like Reitman had done to her. LaConte flinched as the wall loomed closer. He backed off just as she had. The #77 McLaren pulled ahead.

"Well done," Lawrence spoke. "You're a fast learner, aren't you? That's P4, Severinsen two point two ahead.

"Understood," she replied, rounding turn eight. "Nineteen laps remaining?"

"Including the one you just started," Lawrence confirmed.

Five laps later Nikita had tightened the gap but not as much as she'd hoped. Severinsen had quickened his pace.

"Severinsen, one point eight ahead," Lawrence told her. "Push, push; push, push!"

"Understood." The musical tempo increasing.