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Chapter 44 Target Practice

CRACK!

A trail of smoke rises slowly from the muzzle of the revolver in my hands. The bullet strikes its feed-sack target a little off-centre of the red circle painted on it.

"Я не знала, что сын Зинайде будет так красивый," Yekaterina compliments Dmitri, her hand on his upper arm. I didn't know Zinaida's son would be so handsome. He gently removes her hand, but seems to be smiling to himself in response to the compliment. Zinaida is not present for breakfast this morning, and Wesley, being ignorant of Russian and half-asleep, seems not to see what is going on.

CRACK!

Another shot, this one dead centre into the target, where I ve been picturing Yekaterina s face. Giacomo seems a bit put off by my intensity as I fire a few more shots into the target.