With only four days separating the end of the Falcanian grand prix and the deadline for getting their equipment into Karditan - a horrendous process that would have meant yards of red tape if it weren't for Stan McPahan's ability to bribe (and the Karditani's ability to take bribes) - there was little or no time for the events of the Falcanian grand prix to sink in, let alone getting over the death of the team's owner.
It was, however, plenty of time for the world's media to get their teeth into the story. The press had been like hyenas around an upturned pizza delivery truck, snatching and grabbing at any piece of gossip or information they could muster. When they found that McPahan were a secretive organization even by the standards of your average WGPC team, they fabricated their own stories. McPahan's death had been called everything from a horrific accident, to a spectacular suicide, an assassination attempt, even an Illuminati plot. The events leading up to his death had been picked over, piece by piece, but Alec Lund knew - now - that they hadn't even gotten near to the truth. The only person outwith the McPahan team - a team that forces its employees to sign long and viciously-worded disclaimers and secrecy-orders before being hired - who knew the real story of Linco's death was the odd little scientist, Radoslav Salahamidzic, and he'd been hired on the spot by Stan McPahan and forced through the tons of red tape, ensuring his breaking of his silence would result in a hefty law-suit, probably resulting in McPahan being given a certain company called 'Salahamidzic Sciences', a semi-official, semi-legitimate company reportedly run on the sly by a foreign government, masquerading as a chemical company.
The less anyone at McPahan knew about the true nature of that company, the better. Either way, Radoslav didn't seem the type to talk, or to give much of his private life away at all.
After having gone their separate ways for a few days before Friday practice at the Karditani grand prix, the team met in a rented office, near the track, for a meeting.
"Is interesting, your oil" said Radoslav, "I study. I give backfeed on ways to improve. Very interesting. Yes"
"Well, good" said Stan, chairing the meeting. "That can be your job. Keep us updated. Give us plenty of... backfeed"
"Yes, yes, of course"
"Anyway. To the important business. With Linco gone - and we aren't talking about that incident to each other, let alone to the press, understand? - with Linco gone, and with the explosion having wrecked one of our cars and compounded the bad publicity around our team, some of our sponsors have pulled out. There'll be less money going around. I've taken steps to ensure everyone's pay won't be docked, but with one exception..."
He and the rest of the team looked at Alec Lund, who sighed.
"You're no longer being paid by us to race, Alec, I'm very sorry. I have, however, phoned round your personal sponsors and, although they were reluctant at first, they can pay your way, even giving you a decent wage. Not quite what you were earning before, but enough to keep your bank manager happy"
Alec was already nodding. Since Linco's death there had been a real sense of 'we're in this together', the team constantly texting and calling one another, making sure everyone was OK in the run up to the Karditani grand prix. Stan had opened the door for anyone to leave, with full pay, and nobody had accepted the offer.
"That's fine, boss, as long as I'm not starving and the team stays afloat, that's all I care about"
"Good lad" said Stan. Johanson, opposite Alec, nodded in respect. "Now, more bad news for the drivers. With the distinct lack of income, the team is stuck where we are for the forseeable future. We've lost equpitment in the explosion as well as our.. esteemed former employer, god rest him... anyway, car development has to cease completely until we find more outside investment, and with the our team's PR level at an all-time low - and that's saying something - we may be stuck right we are for the time being"
Nods and shrugs around the room. Those present had accepted that 'things would be different, and not necessarily better to start with' quite early on.
"On to the good news, however. Assuming there's no-one else who agrees with Linco McPahan (god rest him) and his policy of stripping cars to dangerous levels, we can ensure that this weekend's car will be as safe as possible. No more short-cuts. We'll be limited in what we can accomplish by the end of the season, as we're tied to this chassis and a few of the cheaper, less reliable parts and pieces, but if we can sort out the few aerodynamic problems the car has and try and re-balance the weight problem we have - and I think both drivers would agree the car's performance has been all over the place this season - we can stay competitive while also not spending too much money."
More nods. Stan turned to Alec and Roger, beside him.
"Gentlemen, look after your tyres, look after your cars. The explosion took out one of the three cars, most of our replacement nosecones, wings and such, so if you have a shunt - no matter how minor - that might be the end of your session, or the end of your race. Understand? We can keep you safe from now on, but you have to help us in return"
"Got it, boss" replied Alec, nodding.
"Naturally. Hey, you can still rely on us to be quick, too, isn't that right Alec?"
"Sure" said Alec, smiling. "We'll get you a 1-2 at some point this weekend, just you wait and see"
"Aye" said Stan, "and if that happens, I'll personally lick your cars clean after the session."
