AT A DEAD STOP under a cloudy sky, I reposition my hands on the steering wheel and ensure the proper bend of the elbows, oblivious to whether or not I'm breathing. Focus, instead, is on projecting a confident nonchalance to the engineer in the passenger seat, but it's a struggle. Tom Petty was right—the waiting is the hardest part. “All clear,” crackles the walkie-talkie communiqué from the spotter ahead, and with Pavlovian response, my right foot meets the floor and the all-electric, 1,900 hp Pininfarina Battista feels like
