RDR: No Regrets - Chapter 284: The Show Begins (Patreon)

There was still an hour before the ceremony began.

Everything was ready. All that remained was for the main attraction to take the stage.

“I wonder what expression Dutch Van der Linde has on his face right now?”

Inside a small house across from the stage, a finely dressed young man sat on an elegant sofa with a glass of red wine in hand, smiling as he admired the view outside.

Well, assuming the chaotic crowd below could be called a view worth admiring.

“I don’t care what expression he’s wearing. My job is to arrest him.”

Across from him, a Pinkerton detective in a crisp suit sat stiffly in his chair. Looking at the young man with his unmistakably aristocratic bearing, he frowned slightly.

“Mr. Allen Cornwall, I must remind you again that the Van der Linde Gang are desperate outlaws. If necessary, I doubt they’d hesitate to use the civilians down there as human shields.”

“Oh? I never imagined the famous Mr. Andrew Milton was actually... a good man?”

Allen Cornwall gave a mocking laugh.

“Come now, Mr. Milton. What you really want is to make absolutely certain nothing goes wrong. Am I right?”

Milton’s frown deepened.

He turned toward the stage once more. More and more people were gathering around it, while the agents they had planted among the crowd were like tiny boats lost at sea, carried helplessly wherever the mass of people pushed them.

The sight only made him more uneasy.

He had been pursuing the Van der Linde Gang for a long time. No one understood them better than he did.

Give them even the slightest opening, and they would find a way to escape.

They had gone to great lengths to set this trap. If the gang slipped away again, they might never get another chance.

What troubled him even more was that the old man, Hosea Matthews, still hadn’t appeared.

Their intelligence suggested that there had been a falling-out between him and Dutch, but that hardly meant he would stay away from an occasion this important.

Then there was Stephen Johnson, the bounty hunter.

He was another troublesome man.

That worried Milton as well.

His gaze returned to the young man before him.

Allen Cornwall.

He had to admit, the young man was clever.

The sheer number of schemes involved in this operation had been enough to make Milton’s head spin, and so far, they had worked remarkably well.

The Van der Linde Gang had been completely divided.

Dutch was in the mayor’s office behind the stage with nearly all of the gang’s gunmen, and Cornwall’s men had already surrounded the area.

Arthur Morgan, that dangerous bastard, was at the saloon with the women, children, and elderly, where Braithwaite family gunmen were keeping watch.

As for the Pinkertons, they had suffered some losses after running into trouble a few days earlier, but they were still the strongest of the three forces involved.

After all, professionally trained gunmen were a different matter entirely from hired private security.

Of course, Milton still had no idea that the men his agents had encountered were Hosea and Stephen.

Milton had stationed his own men around the outskirts of town, guarding every important road and intersection.

As for how so many strangers had entered a small country town without Dutch and his people noticing anything, the answer was actually quite simple.

Josiah Trelawny.

The man who fancied himself so clever still believed he had found a major buyer for the Van der Linde Gang.

A buyer wealthy enough to purchase all of Rhodes’s lumber and take over every construction project in town.

By now, the net around the Van der Linde Gang had been fully drawn.

Yet Allen Cornwall still refused to tighten it.

“Mr. Allen Cornwall, there’s something I don’t understand. We could have acted last night. Why did we have to wait until today?”

Andrew Milton finally decided to ask.

The young man’s uncle, Mr. Leviticus Cornwall, was one of the Pinkertons’ biggest financial backers. In that sense, Allen Cornwall was effectively their client.

Even so, Milton felt some questions still needed answers.

“Is it really that complicated?”

Allen Cornwall glanced at him and gave a faint, almost intoxicated smile.

“Watching that criminal bask in his triumph, only to fall straight into ruin moments later... now that is entertainment, wouldn’t you agree?”

That was it?

Andrew Milton almost found it laughable.

What did this young man think arresting dangerous criminals was? Some amusement to enjoy after dinner?

These people weren’t clowns performing on a stage.

They were violent criminals.

And they certainly weren’t going to obediently follow someone else’s script.

But Milton knew there was no point arguing.

The young man in front of him had no intention of listening to his advice. And with the matter of funding, Milton himself...

He sighed.

Andrew Milton shook his head helplessly.

He wondered how much of this little town would still be standing by the end of the day.

“Knock, knock, knock!”

A sudden knock at the door pulled Milton from his thoughts.

He glanced at one of the men standing behind him. The man immediately went to answer it.

“Good day, Mr. Allen Cornwall. Mr. Andrew Milton.”

A harsh, grating voice came from the doorway, making both men frown at once.

“Mrs. Braithwaite, what happened to your voice?”

“Oh, don’t ask. I haven’t slept for two days because of all this.”

An attendant helped Mrs. Braithwaite to a nearby sofa. The moment she sat down, she looked anxiously between the two men.

“When are we going to act? I can hardly wait to watch those bastards die.”

Of the three people in the room, Mrs. Braithwaite was undoubtedly the one who wanted Dutch dead the most.

Ruining a person’s livelihood was already enough to earn their hatred.

What Dutch had done to the Braithwaite family went far beyond that.

He had practically torn up their roots.

No wonder Mrs. Braithwaite hated him to the bone.

“There’s no need to rush, ma’am.”

An understanding smile appeared on Allen Cornwall’s face.

“I have my own plans.”

Mrs. Braithwaite instinctively started to respond, but after considering the power and influence of the young man before her, she swallowed whatever she had been about to say.

“As you wish, sir.”

An awkward silence settled over the room.

Andrew Milton glanced around, still unable to shake his unease.

BOOM!

The sound of a ceremonial cannon echoed through the town, and the crowd below immediately began to stir.

Allen Cornwall, who had remained calm and composed until now, suddenly sat upright, excitement lighting up his face as he looked down at the scene below.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the show begins.”