CHAPTER 36: POWER PLAY

Elio, with his heart in his mouth bolted forward, tumbling through grass, and gravel beneath his feet.

Tense silence followed his run, but as Marcello cracked the gun with his trembling fingers, their heads all turned his way.

They began to cheer again, chanting mocking war songs.

Bang!

The first shot rang into the air, but the bullet blasted the wall surrounding the field.

They all burst out laughing in pure mockery of the sorry shot.

"It is hard to believe Salvatore trained you. What do you use your hands for? Wanking?" A voice from the crowd rose above others, causing more laughter to erupt.

It was in that moment Vittorio walked into the field.

He tried to call for Luciano’s attention, but when he saw the thick veins of concentration etched on his face, he diverted, and stood beside Salvatore instead.

"This is actually happening?" He said in disbelief.

Salvatore chuckled. "I told you he was upset last night. He just didn’t have a reasonable outlet to vent his frustration. Well until today."

Vittorio shook his head. "I mean I knew he was upset, but isn’t this too much? This is crazy!" Vittorio’s eyes shone in amazement mixed with a little bit of amusement.

"And it’s only just the beginning. Our guy is whipped, Vitto," he laughed.

Their eyes returned to Marcello who was finding it difficult to press the trigger a second time.

"Does your hand tremble that way when you’re taking off a woman’s dress? Shoot Marcello! Fucking shoot!" Another voice hollered in frustration.

They were there to watch something interesting, whilst being grateful they were in neither boy’s position.

At least, Elio was making it fun by running like a mad man being chased by the wind.

Marcello took a deep breath, praying in his heart he aimed somewhere else again.

Bang!

He fired a second time.

The dust just an inch away from Elio’s legs exploded, and he screamed out.

"Now we’re talking!" a man said, and the rest roared with laughter that agreed with him.

"You think he’s not aiming on purpose?" Salvatore asked Vittorio, as the corner of his lips twitched in mischief.

"You’re asking me? You’re the one who trained him before you went for the Vladimir mission. What did you teach the boy?"

"Definitely not to shoot like a fucking old creep!" He screamed at the top of his voice, causing the other men to hoot in agreement.

Marcello’s heart slammed against his chest on hearing Elio’s scream.

He hoped to God he had not hit him. It wasn’t his intention at all.

Although he knew from the silence of Luce, he would be in more trouble if he didn’t make an actual attempt.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

He fired three successive shots. One flew into the air, and burst into oblivion. The other hit the wall again. And the last brushed past the last man’s ear in the crowd.

"Cristo!Ragazzo

, Do you have a death wish?!" The man screamed at him.

"If he can’t take out Elio, he might as well take one of us out!" Another said, and another round of laughter occurred.

Luciano’s face remained blank. But his eyes were cold and calculated. He watched, waiting for the tragic moment that was sure to come.

By his calculations, there were just two bullets left. One of the two had to do the trick.

The question was how much damage would it actually do?

One shot to the heart would be instantly fatal. If the one above loved Elio, maybe he would make it a shot to the leg.

"You’ve aimed five times and not connected once! If you were in my team, I would have broken all your fingers, because clearly they’re all useless!" The banter continued.

"I blame Salvatore. He should have taught him better!"

"Oh he did teach him alright. Taught him how to use his dick!"

They burst out laughing, but Salvatore was not having it.

"Who is bold enough to mention my name? Pick up a blindfold and let’s show the kids how to do it!" He challenged, and then broke into a fit of laughter right after.

It was all jokes, and banter, but Vittorio was a lot more serious in his thoughts.

For one, he still couldn’t believe Luciano ordered this as punishment over Valentina.

Any other time he would have played it off, but because of one girl, even his precious lamb wasn’t spared.

"She’strouble," he thought, shaking his head.

Marcelo’s shoulders tensed as he lifted the gun again. He could bear all of the humiliating insults hurled at him for missing the shots.

That was his friend. Besides, it was almost impossible to aim correctly blindfolded.

However, he was also scared of what Luce would do if he didn’t at least try once to hit the target.

He took a deep breath and whispered under his breath. "I’m sorry, Elio."

His thoughts were instantly claimed by the voice of Salvatore.

The moments he taught him how to shoot on target with eyes closed.

Marcello loved to act the pretty dumb role, but he really had all of the knowledge instilled in him, somewhere deep in his head.

"This is getting boring. Are you going to shoot or what? Tag me in Luce, let’s show these little boys how to get shit done!"

That propelled him, as he muttered under his breath again. "I’m sorry."

He squeezed the trigger, and bang!

The bullet, travelling in a straight precise line, trailed towards Elio who was still tumbling through the weeded grasses.

Luciano’s breath sharpened the moment his brain calculated the outcome of that perfect shot.

He drew out his gun instantly, and fired towards the exact direction Marcello’s gun travelled.

The bullet he fired after Marcello’s, caught up with Marcello’s, merely inches away from Elio’s head.

Metals collided in the air in a tussle, and then in a flash, ricochet in different directions.

Elio fell to the ground, and froze in absolute terror, because he had perceived the bullet.

Silence descended the field.

No one had any more jokes to make. It was all fun before, but at that moment, there was almost a casualty.

Marcello’s heart squeezed in panic, as his hands defiantly ripped off the blindfold.

Tears already stung in his eyes, his head spinning with the thought he had killed Elio.

It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the light, but as it did, his gaze shot forward.

Elio laid unmoving on the ground. The crowd wasn’t screaming out again.

His heart lurched.

"Elio," the name slipped out of his lips in an aching whisper.

But suddenly, Elio moved, and in a split second, began to rise through the smoke the bullets had formed when they clashed, like a phoenix.

"Elio!" Marcello called out with more strength in his voice, as he breathed out in relief.

"This is your last warning," Luciano’s voice rang high, just before the crowd could start to roar again. "The next shot I have to take for your stupidity, it won’t be to save."

He turned around, and the same way he stormed in, he stormed out of the field.

"She’s trouble," Vittorio repeated, shaking his head.