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.
