Olav jumped up from his sleep and touched his forehead. He was dripping with sweat. He could not remember having a more disturbing dream ever before.

Not that he had anything against sex with the four Asians, but why did this Joe Jankins have to ruin everything at the very decisive moment?

He flipped back the blanket and walked into the bathroom, half asleep and dizzy. His bladder hurt and caused a painful morning wood. While he stood in front of the toilet and released the pressure, he thought back to the last stage.

The stage was also busted by Joe Jankins at the decisive moment. Nobody had expected the American climber and his team to appear out of nowhere and be the first to storm the peak after Ebbe and Morten had fought a fierce climbing duel with the Irish twins Andy and Frank.

But in the end he stood there, this optimistic surfer guy, opened a bottle of ice-cold Fretz Coke, which was handed to him by his advisor, and just said: "Amazing!"

Olav activated the flush. Next door Haakon grunted and then turned to the other side.

Olav washed his hands and looked at his reflection. He had bags under his eyes and looked totally worn out. After the beginning of the Tour he had lost a few kilos for sure, but his little belly was still there. The media made fun of it, but Olav knew that during the final sprint on Champs-Élysées, he would be grateful for the reserves he had built up.

He yawned and switched off the light of the bathroom. Quietly he crept past Haakon's bed and opened the balcony door. It was still early in the morning. The hotel complex lay in a dim twilight. The air smelled fresh and clear. Olav started to shiver.

Today was the day. Today his fate would be decided. Last year it was also the ninth stage. Many things in his life had changed back them. On the ninth stage he had crashed and lost not only the race, but also parts of his memory.

He had to fight hard to get back in the saddle. A few doctors explained to him that his elbow would never again have the same mobility. But Olav did not give up and grabbed every straw, every rehab measure, no matter how painful it was.

When he took part in a three-day road race again in spring and crossed the finish line, a load was took off his mind. His right arm hurt terribly, but the cheering of the fans made him forget all the pent-up tension. Olav Olsen was back. And he was happy.

Today nothing should go down the tube. No, today he was supposed to cross the finish line and preferably be the first. If he was first, he didn't have to have a forced date with one of the four guys from his dream tomorrow.

But how would he do that? Today they had to climb four mountain peaks on the 181 kilometers from Nantua to Chambery, before the all-decisive descent began. Four mountain peaks, one more murderous than the other, with differences in altitude of over 1000 meters and some gradients of more than 20 percent.

He remembered how transfigured Frank of Team ShamroClovers always looked whenever he pedaled to reach the peak. How easy it seemed to be for him, while sprinters like Max Mustermann and Nobuhiko Honda always struggled and depended on the help of their team.

Haakon threw back the blanket and stepped out onto the balcony as well. His short blond hair was all disheveled from sleeping and the stubble came out.

Olav knew he had to look disheveled and stubbly as well. "Morning. Sorry if I woke you up." Blaming himself, his brown eyes looked down.

Haakon denied and patted his shoulder. "Never mind, it's almost time to get up anyway. Being woken by you having to pee is better than being woken by the doping check." He examined him closely and shook his head. "Olav, you'll get wrinkles if you keep on thinking too much about things."

Olav's smile looked stiff. "I'm just a bit scared. You know what happened last year on stage nine..." He shivered and crossed his arms. He wore only a T-shirt and a pair of shorts - clearly too cold for such a fresh summer morning.

"Everything will be fine today, I promise you!" Haakon pulled Olav towards him and poked him friendly. "Sometimes I really feel like you think you're fighting all alone on the street. But that's not true!"

Haakon's brotherly embrace felt quite different from the one in the men's restroom between Li and him. "I know I should trust you guys much more..." His gaze seemed tortured.

"We are not the Olsen Gang, but a whole team of experienced cyclists who support and help each other. What one of them is not so good at, the other one makes up for. And vice versa." He tapped Olav's shoulder again. "Together we'll conquer every peak. We are not just one Viking, but a whole fleet of nine Vikings. And this fleet will pull you over every mountain today and then give you the tailwind you need to win this stage! Today, you're gonna grab that yellow jersey!"

A glimpse of a smile came into Olav's face. He got a sinking feeling, but Haakon's kind words gave him back some confidence. "I hope I won't let you down!"

"So what? If things don't go so well today, then the day after tomorrow! Or the day after! We've got 12 more stages to get you to the top of the podium."

It was too much for Olav. He dissolved the family scene and entered the dark hotel room again. Haakon should not see that his ears were burning up. He still wasn't used to get so much praise. But it was actually unnecessary to turn around. Haakon knew what kind of a face he was making anyway. He knew him for far too long.

***

Punyaa snuffled. His eyes were burning and he had a slight temperature. The ninth day of this year's Tour de France had not started very well for him. His throat hurt terribly and his stomach rumbled so much that he had eaten far too little in the morning.

What a bloody mess! 

At first he made a lot of noise about wanting to beat his three competitors in the sprint duel for Olav's date, but then he got a cold and had to give up without a fight.

He pulled a fresh handkerchief from his back pocket and blew his nose. The leading group was already far away from him. Andy and Frank had set off with Sheamus to storm one peak after another. Team Helvetia Hearts had also broken out in time with Kim and their leader Reto, as well as Team Diamond Dragons, with Li at their head, and Team Startory Jokers, where the brothers Keisuke and Daisuke did the best they could to pull Nobuhiko over the mountains.

But at the very top was Team Bismarck Bells, Team Viking Spades and Team Ontario Oaks, which nobody had really heard of until yesterday.

Joe Jankin's stage win was like a landslide. Suddenly he had rolled over them all.

As Punyaa crossed the finish line, Andy was foaming with rage. This time he came only in third, because even Reto Jäger had managed to pass Frank and him in the last couple of seconds. And while the short-tempered twin was still bitching and wailing in the evening, Punyaa felt limp and lethargic.

Had he caught a cold during the last rain shower? What a bloody mess indeed! 

Luckily he could rest all day tomorrow. Lying in bed, while Olav would be gone for a short drive somewhere with Nobuhiko or Li or Kim, and then lay under some tree laughing and bursting with joy and doing whatever.

Punyaa blew his cheeks and sulked. 

No, Olav should smile at him again like last year after Paris-Roubaix. So kind, so innocent, so nice. Only at him - and at nobody else!

"Achoo!" He had to blow his nose again. His head hurt and he wanted to go to bed right away. But there were still 90 kilometers between him and his well-deserved rest. 

"Achoo!"