Race With a Heart
Chapter 51: This Joke is Not Funny. Because this is a Joke, Right?

Chapter 51: This Joke is Not Funny. Because this is a Joke, Right?

Martin quickly found out that he was the only real mechanic working in their car repair shop and that they really needed him here. Teddy knew his stuff, but his eyes, even with his glasses, couldn’t see much anymore and his fingers had lost their dexterity, so while he didn’t want to admit it, he was no longer fit to fix cars. It was sad because for the old man this workshop was the whole life to which he devoted himself after the death of his son. It was also a place where Dave could earn some money and help support the family, and Sid could find an escape from his abusive father.

The boys were very enthusiastic about the job, but they definitely lacked the knowledge and skills. They could change tires, change engine oil or battery, and make the most common repairs, but when something less common or more complicated came along, they couldn’t cope. Martin, being two or three years older than them, seemed to have had ten years more experience.

In the afternoon, a new car was delivered to their garage. It had a problem with the clutch or the manual gearbox - Martin was about to check it out. Its owner lamented that her car broke down at worst moment, because in two days she had to go on a business trip and she needed a car for this. Martin smiled kindly and replied that the moment was the best because if the car broke down on the road or just before departure, then she would have a serious problem. Now there was a good chance he could get the car ready for her on the scheduled date. He cannot promise her that he will succeed because he does not know what is wrong yet, but he will do anything to help her as soon as possible.

For this reason, Martin decided to stay after hours. He had nothing better to do at home than watch some entertainment. He really liked fiddling with cars, so when Dave left for his second job, Sid came home because he had an important test at school tomorrow and Teddy had some important meeting, Martin was left alone. Of course, it was always better to work in company because you had someone to open your mouth to and ask for a tool, but the work alone was also doable, though a bit more boring.

Martin, however, could not be bored and even enjoyed that moment of solitude and peace. Yesterday’s race was too deeply embedded in his heart for him not to think about it.

Even though Martin was no longer part of Fergus’ stable, it felt as if yesterday’s success belonged to him as well. Two cars on the podium in the first race! Yes, the first place passed their nose, but it wasn’t the mechanics or Steve’s fault, but the irresponsible behavior of another driver. Stupid things like this sometimes happened on the track, and while they weren’t pleasant, everyone learned to accept them. Of course, the incident will be dealt with by a special committee that will analyze all audio and video recordings, including those from the communication between the driver and the stable, and verify that the driver knew that the car trying to overtake him was performing a double maneuver. Of course, he should have known it and without the radio, because the race staff displayed the appropriate message on the board next to the track, and the driver had to recognize the colors of the Fergus Stables and its drivers were at the forefront, not in the back, so if he suddenly saw such a car in the rearview mirror must have known it was mirrored. Only the last moron wouldn’t know it, and Martin doubted there was anyone that stupid among the racing drivers.

So there was a reasonable assumption that Belindez was interfering with Steve’s mirroring maneuver on purpose. However, it is the commission, in agreement with the representatives of both stables, that will seek the truth and the right or wrong indignation of the fans could not affect either its work or the fairness of the sport itself. Therefore, apart from a few hot references, all major media reported only that the incident would be investigated. Nobody was throwing mud at Belindez because his behavior, while suspicious, might not really have been intentional. Why would he block Steve? Certainly not for the benefit of their stable, because both drivers were at the stake in the end and did not count in the fight for the victory. From a private grudge? Paxton was not the nicest man, but he made no enemies either. For jealousy? Hmm, that’s a bit of a cheap reason to risk your own career. Belindez might just have lost too much. But speaking of loss and gain, he could have done it for the money. Someone might just pay him to block Steve specifically, or the Fergus drivers in general.

The young mechanic sighed. There were many, too many possibilities. All he knew for sure was that Belindez had acted extremely irresponsible and would be punished for it. If the investigation does not show that this was a deliberate act on his part, it will probably end with a fine and a step back on the grid a few positions, which for the driver starting from the penultimate line did not matter much anyway.

However, no one will focus on the past. The next grand prix will take place in a week’s time and everyone has to focus on it. Martin sincerely hoped that Steve would not dwell on it either and would focus on the race ahead. Everyone has seen that the Fergus Stables cars are well prepared and the stable drivers are in damn good condition.

It was the latter that was the greatest reason for happiness for Martin. Steve Paxton and Jack Lambert standing together on the podium! It was a really beautiful sight. As beautiful as watching Steve race. There was not even a hint of the hesitation and uncertainty in Paxton he had in training after Hannah’s death. Steve was one hundred percent a fighter!

Martin turned on an old transistor radio and drove a trolley under the car’s chassis. Usually, when he was alone, he liked to work with headphones over his ears, but now there could be a client. The workshop was already closed, but the breakdowns did not know the day or the hour and could happen at any time. The phone might ring and someone might knock on the door. Therefore, Martin couldn’t plug his ears, and the radio was soft enough for him to hear footsteps.

It was just such a step he heard, male steps, heavy and nonchalant, steps of a man in suit shoes. He heard the footsteps of other men as well.

"I’ll take care of you guys right now," said Martin. "I’ll just tighten this screw ..."

Strong hands gripped him at the ankles and pulled him from under the car chassis. Surprised, Martin screamed as he struck his elbow. He didn’t have time to do anything else, as two strong men brutally picked him up and put him on his feet. Martin looked around trying to understand what was actually going on.

There were five men. Two were holding him by the shoulders preventing his escape, two were hanging around the workshop, making a not very subtle search, and the fifth was standing in front of Martin looking at him as if he wanted to read the answers to unasked questions from the boy. They were all dressed in suits and looked like a textbook example of gangsters. Martin couldn’t believe his eyes.

Gangsters ?! Real gangsters? No, it’s probably a joke. Martin had never seen one in his life, and now he had five? It was definitely a joke!

If it was a joke, it wasn’t funny.

"Where it is?" asked the gangster.

"Where’s what?"

Martin looked at the two who were doing the search. They acted like brainless monkeys, knocking over anything that came under their hands. If this goes on, they will demolish the entire workshop.

"Money" was the answer.

"This is a robbery?" Martin was surprised. "Have you chosen such a dingy little workshop for the robbery ...? Ouch!"

His speech was brutally interrupted by a punch to the stomach. It hurt so much that he lost his breath for a moment.

"What a joker we have here! Tell me, where is the money? "

"At the counter, at the cash register. But there’s hardly anything there..." another blow. If Martin had not been held by steel arms, he would have bent in half.

"Check!"

One of the searchers entered the office and unceremoniously smashed the cash register. At that moment it dawned on Martin that he should be afraid.

"There is nothing, Boss!" the bully who destroyed the cash register announced.

The boss approached Martin. His eyes bored right through the boy.

"If you don’t want to say of your free will, we’ll make you sing," he promised. "What is the best interview method for you, huh? Brute force? Fancy torture? Or maybe something more subtle? What are you most afraid of? "

"I don’t know what money you are talking about. I’ve only been working here for four days ... "

One of the thugs tugged his hair brutally, tilting his head back. The gangster interrogating him stepped even closer. He pulled out a knife and waved it in front of Martin’s eyes.

"Your artery is pulsating so beautifully. How long do you think it will take her to bleed you to death? " He asked.

Goddamn it, it wasn’t really a joke anymore!

Suddenly the door slammed against the wall and one of the thugs shattered the table with tools as he fell. It looked as if someone had come to Martin to the rescue!