"By the way", Leah - one of McLaren's longest-serving legal staffs – says as an attempt to make small talk with me, "we closed the loop on the envelope. Sorry you have to go through all that."

From the way she casually talks to her tone, clearly she assumes this is old news to me. But unfortunately this is the very first time that I've heard of such a thing. I stop mid-walk and face her with the eagerness of getting all my answer solved. "Closed the loop how?"

They started with the printer, because apparently that's where it all began. Commercial-grade, the one appropriate to be leased only, not owned. A very specific model which never ends up in hotels or private offices. Rare enough to avoid suspicion but also very traceable if you know how to look.

"We crossed-checked distribution records, took roughly a week but finally got a hint. That kind of printer is mostly used for PR and compliance firms, one of them serves Red Bull."

Leah states out the fact that Red Bull probably didn't see it coming, because tracking over a printer seemed undoable and assumed they were careful enough to hide any trace left. Careful only worked so far when no one expected you to be stupid or obvious.

"Besides, there was subtle confirmation coming from our source in FIA. Concerns were raised before the internal data got leaked. Details that shouldn't have been known yet."

So it's as clear as daylight, we stepped into a trap carefully created by Red Bull.

Of course it was them. Red Bull is hungry. Hunger and panic could destroy you, but pairing it with scheme can bring you victory again. One more title would stabilize everything for them, lock in sponsors, control the narrative heading into 2027 season, cement their little dynasty. McLaren isn't just a competitor – we're the direct threat to their reign.

If only they can weaken us without touching the car, that's way faster than beating us on the track. And what's the most efficient way to destabilize McLaren? Breaking us.

Both McLaren drivers are deep in Championship fight so it's their job to create doubts, noise and force us into separation. Red Bull did exactly what should be done at the first place.

I try to shake off the thought as I climb in my seat, pull my visor down, strap myself in the world's faster car. It doesn't work though. The idea of being maneuvered lingers while I'm hurtling down the straight at fatal speed.

I think about Max.

About the way he sounded in those interviews, defensive without admitting it, like someone who already knew how the story would end. About the way he titled his head when the question about us came, not an inch of surprised or offended showed, fully prepared with hours spent in PR training.

I don't know if he knew anything going on. I don't even know if he cared. But there's one thing for sure – he is benefited from this move and that's enough to sour this so-called friendship, thin and conditional as it is.

If they wanted to break us without racing, then racing is exactly what I'll use to answer them.

I don't think about the crowd, the noise or what this win would mean on paper. I don't even think about the championship, I lost the right to want it somewhere between Red Bull first planning and the FIA confirmation. Anger is a strange fuel, it doesn't make my hands shake the way it could have been, strips down everything shouldn't be on my way.

Every single lap passes by with more analytical thoughts coming out of me. The Constructors' Championship belongs to us next race if neither me nor Oscar make any mistake. One more Driver's Championship would look too good for us but too destabilizing for anyone else on grid. Red Bull didn't only need to beat us outright to remind the paddock who still held the power, they also needed to make us wobble.

Max always has been allowed to exist exactly as he is while the rest of us have to learn how to soften our edges. We say one thing against him and the backlash lands on us immediately. I'm not entirely sure if he would have stopped the wrongdoing of his team if he had the chance but it doesn't matter anymore. Too late for what has already been done.

The final laps stretch out, tension coiled but controlled. I cross the line and exhale, a laugh slipping out before I can stop it, not because I've won, but because they tried so hard to make sure I wouldn't.

P1.

***

Later that night, I quietly rewatch the post-race interview while Oscar is deep asleep. I didn't want him to know how angry I was, didn't want the annoyance to reach him. Oscar processes things differently, he doesn't resent things the way I do. That's why I refuse to let my anger distract him

I know people are so fed up with my stuck-up answers, already calling me names I can never pretend like I care. Doesn't matter, as long as I could drop some hint here and there.

"Lando, a very intense weekend on and off track. How do you feel?"

"Honestly? Tired, I guess. Not from racing, that's my favorite part. It's everything around that drains you. At a point all you wanna do is just do drive the car and stop having opinions written for you."

"Do you feel McLaren has been treated unfairly, especially after the FIA investigation earlier?"

"Fair is a strange word in Formula 1 dictionary. I think scrutiny depends a lot on who people are used to questioning and who they're used to trusting. Some teams live very comfortably in that difference."

"You have hinted that some certain teams play off-track games. Are you suggesting someone crossed a line?"

"I am not here to name names. I wouldn't say who crossed a line either. I would say some people are very good at moving pieces around without ever touching the board. That's part of the game, I guess."

"Does Max Verstappen play any role into any of this?"

"I don't know. Max says what he wants and people usually let him. That's not my business. I just see who benefits when certain narratives appear."

"Are you facing any consequences when making comments like this?"

"I'm already out of the title fight months ago so I don't have much to lose. And if being honest makes people uncomfortable then that's probably worth sitting with."

I smile when they bring up Max, flash a charming smile and use all vaguest words I can come up with so Red Bull isn't mentioned in any of my answer. I have mastered the art of rage baited, saying exactly what I meant without giving anyone a quote they can fine me for.

I mentally high-five with myself after finish watching the full interview, feeling like I deserve a medal from PR Department after all the trainings they have put in me. Probably I won't be this happy tomorrow when Zak calls me in his office but it's still dead silent from him so I call it a victory for now. Holding Oscar in my arms, I fall asleep almost smug as if like I've just served justice to myself and the team.