RDR: No Regrets - Chapter 291: Dutch Rallies the Crowd (Patreon)

After sending Hosea and the others away, Dutch waited a little longer.

By now, John had completely run out of things to say onstage. He had never been much of a talker to begin with, so expecting him to improvise an entire speech was asking far too much.

John was getting more anxious by the second.

He had already seen Hosea lead his wife and son away.

He had no idea what was happening, and he desperately wanted to find out.

Dutch finally returned to the stage.

He gave John a meaningful look, and John immediately hurried down.

Dutch slowly walked to the front of the podium.

This time, however, he didn’t begin speaking right away.

He simply stood there and studied the crowd below.

And this time, he noticed things he hadn’t seen before.

There were gunmen hidden among the crowd.

Experienced ones.

Farther away, a brief glint flashed from the window of a building.

Light reflecting off a rifle scope.

Then there were the people in the audience.

Many of them weren’t looking at him with admiration or respect at all.

They were amused.

Yes.

Amused.

The kind of look people had when watching something entertaining.

Like children who had just found a strange new toy and couldn’t wait to see what it could do.

In short, Dutch suddenly saw a great many things he had somehow missed only moments earlier.

Strange.

Very strange.

He was still the same man, looking at the same people and the same scene.

So why did everything look so completely different now?

How interesting.

Dutch couldn’t help letting out a quiet sigh.

“What the hell is he doing?”

Allen, watching Dutch from a distance, asked curiously, “Has he run out of things to say?”

Allen wasn’t the only one confused.

Milton couldn’t figure it out either.

What the hell was Dutch planning?

Milton was beginning to regret waiting.

He should have pushed Allen harder and insisted they attack the moment the speech began.

He couldn’t explain why, but a bad feeling had settled in his gut.

After all, Dutch Van der Linde was no ordinary criminal.

“Look! That old man Hosea is leaving. He’s taking the women with him!”

Agent Ross, standing beside Milton, suddenly pointed toward the stage.

Allen and Milton immediately raised their binoculars.

Sure enough, Hosea was leading the women and children toward a nearby alley.

John Marston, the new sheriff, was following behind them.

“Damn it. They spotted us. They’re trying to run!”

Milton immediately turned toward Allen.

“Mr. Allen Cornwall, we have to move now!”

By this point, even Allen realized he might have waited too long.

He nodded.

“Ross, send the signal. Tell everyone to move in immediately!”

The moment Allen agreed, Milton gave the order.

“And tell them not to hold back. We don’t need them alive!”

It was effectively an order to kill on sight.

Agent Ross gave a vicious grin and turned to leave.

“Pinkertons!”

A sudden roar made everyone in the room freeze.

They turned toward the square.

Dutch stood on the podium with both arms spread wide, shouting at the crowd.

“Pinkertons! The Braithwaite family! And every last rat hiding behind the scenes!”

Dutch burst into laughter.

“You thought I didn’t know you were here? I prepared a little gift for you! I hope you enjoy it!”

At Dutch’s shout, the entire square went silent.

The gunmen who knew what was happening exchanged uncertain looks, wondering what kind of surprise Dutch was talking about.

The ordinary townspeople were even more confused.

They had no idea what their new mayor was doing.

“What the hell is that bastard planning?”

Milton clenched his teeth, staring hard at Dutch as he stood confidently onstage.

“Does he actually have something prepared?”

The truth was, Dutch had absolutely nothing prepared.

He was bluffing.

His goal was simple.

Buy enough time for the women and children to escape.

Once they were safely away, Dutch could finally turn the whole place upside down.

And that was exactly what he intended to do.

As far as Dutch was concerned, the moment the Pinkertons arrived in force, his days in Rhodes were finished.

But there was one thing nobody should forget.

Right now, he was still the mayor of Rhodes.

Dutch spread his arms and shouted to the crowd.

“People of Rhodes! I have something to tell you!”

The entire square fell silent.

Only Dutch’s voice echoed across it.

“I’ve received word!”

Dutch swept his gaze across the people gathered below, then raised his voice defiantly.

“The Pinkertons! Those shameless government hounds have joined forces with the Braithwaite family, and together they’re plotting a massive conspiracy behind your backs!”

The crowd erupted in shock.

The ordinary townspeople weren’t the only ones stunned.

Even Milton and Allen stared in disbelief.

A conspiracy?

What conspiracy?

They were only here to arrest him!

“What the hell is he talking about?”

Allen stared at Dutch, completely baffled.

“And today, I’m going to expose that conspiracy right here, in front of all of you!”

As Dutch spoke, he gestured dramatically with both hands.

Then the fingers of his right hand formed a strange signal.

No one understood what it meant.

Except one man.

BANG!

A gunshot suddenly tore through the air.

The bullet skimmed past Dutch’s ear, missing him by inches.

A fresh bullet hole appeared in the wooden wall behind him.

The entire crowd froze.

What the hell?

An assassination?

Someone had just tried to assassinate the mayor in broad daylight?

“Who fired that shot?!”

In that instant, Milton understood everything.

He knew exactly what Dutch was doing.

It didn’t matter whether the shooter was actually a Pinkerton.

That single gunshot had already pinned the blame squarely on them.

Sure enough, the entire crowd erupted.

People spun around, desperately searching for an assassin who, as far as they knew, was somewhere among them.

And Dutch still had considerable influence over the people of Rhodes.

A masked man dressed in black suddenly darted through the crowd and sprinted toward a nearby alley.

Conveniently enough, he was running directly toward the area where many of the hidden gunmen were positioned.

Even better, the sudden gunshot had caused those men to raise their weapons.

Milton closed his eyes in frustration.

“It’s over. Get ready for a bloodbath.”

One missed opportunity had led to another.

One wrong decision had become another.

Who could have imagined that Dutch would manage to find a way out even after being completely cornered?

No wonder the Van der Linde Gang had become so infamous.

Milton might consider Dutch nothing more than a vicious criminal, but even he had to admit it now.

The man was dangerous.

And clever.

Milton was absolutely certain that whoever had fired that shot was one of Dutch’s men.

Of course he was.

Javier darted past the bewildered gunmen and disappeared into an alley.

He had fired the shot.

After following Dutch for so many years, all it took was one gesture for Javier to understand exactly what he wanted.

And Javier’s timing had been perfect.

Some of the angrier townspeople saw the supposed assassin fleeing and prepared to chase after him.

But Dutch shouted again before they could move.

“They’re trying to kill me!”

Rather than retreat after the shot, Dutch raised his arms high and roared to the crowd.

“They’re afraid! And that proves I was right!”

“They’re plotting against us! These schemers! These clowns!”

“They want to seize this town and turn this proud community into the private property of the Braithwaite family!”

“They want to make slaves of every one of you!”

“Just like the slaves of the past!”

“And I will lead you against them!”

“They think money gives them the right to do whatever they please! But!”

“I’m here! Dutch Van der Linde is here!”

Dutch raised his voice even higher, making sure everyone in the square could hear him.

“I’m going to take their money!”

“And then I’m going to give every last cent of it to you!”

“To...”

“My beloved people!”

For those final words, Dutch’s voice suddenly softened.

He looked across the crowd with genuine warmth in his eyes.

For that brief moment, he truly looked like a mayor who loved his people.

Like a good man devoted to the town he served.

Meanwhile, the “assassin” Javier used Dutch’s speech as cover to make his escape.

As he ran, he stripped off the clothes he had been wearing.

By the time he circled back around to the square, he had transformed back into a Rhodes police officer.

“Someone tried to assassinate the mayor! Catch the killer!”

Javier pointed straight at the armed gunmen and shouted at the top of his lungs.

Bill, standing near Dutch, immediately caught on and began shouting as well.

Dutch’s fiery speech.

Javier’s cries.

The already agitated townspeople.

Together, they ignited the square like a spark dropped into oil.

The entire crowd erupted.

But Dutch knew it still wasn’t enough.

Their anger was only temporary.

It had risen quickly, but it would disappear just as quickly.

If he didn’t direct that fury while their blood was still boiling, they would calm down within minutes and scatter.

“People of Rhodes! The time has come to defend your homes!”

“Take up your weapons!”

“Stand with me and protect your town!”

With that, Dutch drew both pistols from his waist and fired at two armed gunmen.

Two shots.

Two men dropped.

Both had been hit in the head.

Dutch’s marksmanship was as deadly as ever.

Those two gunshots were like the starting pistol of a race.

Bill roared, shoved through the crowd, and charged straight at the gunmen.

People tend to follow the crowd.

One man charging alone rarely inspired others to join him.

But once everyone began moving, even those who were afraid could be swept along.

Bill had started it.

Several hot-blooded young men immediately followed him.

As more people joined the charge, even the ones who had intended to stay back were forced to move with them.

They were afraid that if they stood apart, the enraged crowd might mistake them for the assassins.

The gunmen were completely caught off guard.

As the mob rushed toward them, they hesitated.

Should they fire?

That brief hesitation was all the crowd needed.

The first furious townspeople reached them.

Bill was at the front.

He kicked one gunman to the ground just as the man was about to fire, then snatched up the fallen rifle and swung it like a club.

The stock smashed into the man’s head.

Blood spilled.

And once blood had been drawn, there was no stopping what came next.

The crowd completely lost control.

Watching everything unfold, Allen Cornwall, the young master who had thought he held every piece on the board, exploded with rage.

He had assumed capturing Dutch would be nothing more than another entertaining hunt.

He couldn’t believe that a lowly outlaw already caught in his net could turn the entire situation around like this.

How could he do this?

How dare he?

Allen looked like an enraged bull, trembling with fury.

“Damn him! Damn him! That bastard deserves to die!”

His eyes bloodshot, he stared at Dutch, who had already blended into the crowd and was now standing among the townspeople with his arms raised, basking in their cheers.

Allen hammered both fists against the windowsill.

“Attack! Give the order! Attack!”

He spun around toward his guards and Milton.

“Milton! Send all your men in! Kill every last one of them!”

“What?”

Milton stared at him in horror.

“No! Mr. Cornwall, those people are...”

Allen grabbed Milton by the collar and glared into his eyes.

“Here, I give the orders!”

“Do not disobey me!”

He ripped the pistol from Milton’s holster, then kicked him hard and sent him stumbling backward.

Milton was a senior Pinkerton agent, yet in front of Allen Cornwall, he didn’t even dare dodge.

He could only take the kick.

“No!”

Milton shouted desperately, but it was already too late.

And he didn’t dare interfere any further.

The men below belonged to Allen.

They were Cornwall family gunmen.

They answered only to the Cornwall family.

Milton had no doubt that if he angered the young man any further, Allen might simply shoot him.

He was absolutely capable of it.

And he would likely face no consequences at all.

In the end, the Pinkertons were little more than hired hounds for powerful businessmen.

If one hound refused to obey, another could always take its place.

Allen fired a shot.

The gunmen waiting for the signal immediately understood.

They raised their weapons.

Then they opened fire indiscriminately into the crowd.