RDR: NO REGRETS - Chapter 307: A Furious Cornwall and an Angry Dutch (Patreon)

“BANG!!!”

“Useless! Every last one of you is useless!!!”

“I gave you so much money! Enough to arm a three-hundred-man force from head to toe! And after all that expense, you still couldn’t capture that damned Dutch van der Linde!!!”

“You didn’t even manage anything worthwhile. All you caught was some useless woman, one of Dutch’s lovers!!!”

“You’re all useless!!!”

Inside a lavish office, Leviticus Cornwall was in a towering rage.

In his fury, he kicked over the expensive wooden desk in front of him. Priceless watches and jewelry went crashing to the floor, along with a piece of porcelain that had once belonged to an imperial court.

Standing before him and bearing the full brunt of his anger were, naturally, his beloved nephew Allen Cornwall and senior Pinkerton agent Andrew Milton.

The two men, usually so imposing and arrogant in front of others, now stood with their heads lowered like defeated roosters, not daring to utter a word.

Once Cornwall had finished venting his rage, it was time to get down to business.

Leviticus Cornwall dropped heavily into his large chair, loosened the tie around his neck, and took two deep breaths.

A servant nearby hurried over with a glass of wine. Cornwall snatched it up and drained it in one gulp.

“CRASH!”

He hurled the glass onto the floor, where it shattered with a sharp crack.

The glass had clearly struck the floor, yet Allen Cornwall felt as though it had landed directly on his heart. He shuddered involuntarily.

“Answer me, Allen. What exactly happened for you to suffer losses this severe?”

Cornwall turned toward his beloved nephew, his piercing gaze as sharp as a knife.

Trembling, Allen recounted what had happened.

His version of events was rather selective, however. He placed almost all the blame on the Pinkertons.

“So, Mr. Milton.”

After hearing his nephew’s account, Cornwall turned to Milton. “Is what my nephew said true?”

Milton hated to admit it, but he had no choice but to take the blame.

They were family, after all. Even if he argued his case and won, what good would that do?

Was Cornwall supposed to kill his own nephew?

Don’t be ridiculous.

Cornwall might be tearing into Allen now, but in a couple of days, they would still be family.

Milton understood perfectly well that family came first.

“Yes, sir. This time... it was our fault.”

Bitterly, Milton took the entire blame upon himself.

Beside him, Allen Cornwall gave him a wink, seemingly thanking him for covering for him.

Milton couldn’t be bothered with him. He looked at Leviticus Cornwall and said, “Whatever the case, this operation has already failed. What we need to do now is keep our losses to a minimum.”

Cornwall shifted his heavy body in the chair and thought for a moment before asking, “Do we know who that reporter is?”

“We’ve already looked into him. He’s a reporter for a small tabloid. I’ve arranged for someone to keep him under surveillance.”

“Then kill him.”

Cornwall spoke without the slightest hesitation. “Kill him, then put his head in front of the newspaper owner. He’ll know what to do.”

“Wouldn’t that... wouldn’t that be a little too...”

Even Milton, an old hand at this sort of thing, was startled by Cornwall’s bloody methods.

If they killed that reporter now, anyone with half a brain would know Cornwall was behind it.

“Heh. Afterward, just grab some beggar off the street and make him take the fall. As long as there’s no evidence, who can do anything to me?”

Cornwall shouted arrogantly, “I’ll make those lowly commoners understand that I’m the master of this country!!!”

“I... I understand. I’ll take care of it right away.”

Milton had no choice but to agree.

As he watched Milton leave, Cornwall turned his attention back to his beloved nephew.

“You disappoint me, Allen,” Cornwall said slowly.

“I’m sorry. I... I failed to live up to your expectations.”

“No. You haven’t failed me. The only person you’ve failed is yourself.”

Cornwall shook his head, then held out a hand toward the servant beside him.

The servant hurriedly handed him a thick cigar and lit it for him.

Cornwall took a deep drag before speaking earnestly to his nephew. “I have no son. You are my brother’s child.”

“My brother died young, and I’ve always treated you as though you were my own son.”

“I... I understand.”

“No, you don’t.”

Cornwall’s tone grew solemn again.

He rose, slowly walked over to Allen, seized him by the collar, and said sternly, “You don’t understand what kind of empire you’ll be taking over someday. A great commercial empire spanning the entire Americas!!!”

“And yet you’re still a spoiled brat, a stubborn child with a head full of ridiculous ideas!!!”

“Take what happened this time. You already had your men in position, but instead of having the sniper you arranged shoot immediately, you wanted to watch him make a fool of himself, all because you wanted to indulge your own childish amusement!”

“And because of that, you let those people escape and dragged our corporation into a huge mess!”

Cornwall’s voice grew harsher with every sentence until he was practically roaring.

Allen became more and more frightened, his body trembling harder by the second.

Looking at Allen, who hung helplessly in his grip like a frightened chick, a trace of disappointment appeared in Cornwall’s eyes.

He had spoiled the boy too much.

“Go to Annesburg.”

“Annesburg???”

Allen clearly didn’t want to go there. The place was nothing but mines, with almost nothing else around.

“We... maybe we should deal with the trouble in Lemoyne first.”

Allen stammered, “I’ve received word that some troublemakers seem to be trying to push through legislation in Lemoyne to restrict the Pinkertons...”

“The Pinkertons aren’t important!”

Cornwall cut him off without ceremony. He returned to his chair, sat down, and looked at Allen seriously.

“The Pinkertons aren’t important.”

“Even if restrictions are placed on them, we have other people we can use. That isn’t a problem.”

“What matters are the mines in Annesburg. Those are the real priority!”

As everyone knew, the mountains behind and surrounding Annesburg contained enormous mineral reserves. The area was one of the foundations of the Cornwall Group.

“Over the past few days, someone appears to have been targeting the mines in Annesburg. In just one week, two shipments have already been robbed.”

Cornwall picked two sheets of paper out of the pile scattered across the floor and tossed them to Allen.

Allen picked them up with a surprised expression and looked them over.

They were loss reports.

“Who would be bold enough to rob our shipments outright???”

“I don’t know. That’s why I need you to find out.”

Cornwall rubbed his forehead. The endless stream of bad news was beginning to give him a headache.

“They stole ore, so they’ll have to find some way to dispose of it. I’ll send people to check the nearby black markets right away!”

Allen’s mind immediately started working, and he quickly came up with an idea.

“No need. We already found the missing cargo.”

Cornwall said helplessly, “Whoever did it didn’t sell the cargo. They simply pushed all of it off a cliff.”

“We found everything at the bottom. None of the cargo was missing, and they didn’t even touch the money on the bodies.”

“What???”

Allen was completely baffled.

If they didn’t want the cargo or the money, then what was this mysterious person after?

Was it revenge?

“I want you to get to the bottom of this and bring me that person’s head!”

Cornwall snarled, “If we don’t wipe these people out quickly, more and more of them will start thinking they can steal from us!!!”

“I understand! I’ll leave right now!”

Allen understood the seriousness of the situation. He quickly bowed to his uncle, then hurried out.

“Dutch van der Linde, you son of a bitch...”

...

“Dutch! What are we supposed to do next?”

Inside a country house, Dutch van der Linde, the man Leviticus Cornwall hated with every fiber of his being, was lying on a bed.

Arthur barged into the room and found Dutch resting there with his eyes closed. The sight left him exasperated.

“Dutch, what the hell are you doing? You’ve been lying here for a week. We need to find Hosea and the others!”

Arthur’s tone was sharp. It was obvious he was deeply unhappy with their current situation.

Ever since they had been separated from Stephen and the others, they had been hiding at Catfish Jackson’s house.

But the place wasn’t safe. During the two days they stayed there, two or three groups of Pinkertons and Braithwaite family gunmen had come searching for them.

After barely managing to drive off two groups, everyone agreed they couldn’t stay there any longer.

They were far too close to the Braithwaite family estate. If they remained there, a larger force would find them sooner or later.

Javier remembered the Lemoyne Raiders’ camp, the country estate known as Shady Belle, and led the others there.

Naturally, any place the Lemoyne Raiders had used as a camp was well hidden.

With no better option, the group settled into the dilapidated mansion for the time being.

Search parties were everywhere outside, so they didn’t dare venture out casually. All they could do was keep their heads down and hide.

But as the days passed, Arthur became increasingly worried about Hosea and the others.

Arthur refused to believe Hosea and the others had deliberately abandoned them and fled on their own. Something must have happened to them.

He had told Dutch more than once that he wanted to go out and search for them, but Dutch had rejected the idea every time.

Today, Arthur had finally had enough. Even if Dutch refused again, he was determined to go out and look for them.

Seeing Arthur storm in, Dutch shook his head helplessly.

“All right. Then let’s go.”

Dutch rolled over and sat up, grabbing the pistol from the nightstand beside him.

“Do you have a plan?”

“What?”

Arthur stared at him blankly.

Hadn’t Dutch been against this? Why had he suddenly agreed?

The abrupt change left Arthur’s mind spinning. As for a plan, he genuinely hadn’t thought that far ahead.

Seeing Arthur stumble over his words, Dutch sighed again.

“See? You don’t even know what we’re supposed to do.”

“Maybe we could write letters. Send out several of them. Eventually, one should reach them.”

Arthur really had learned from Hosea. Even their ideas were the same.

“No. We can’t write letters.”

Dutch rejected the idea immediately. Before Arthur could even ask why, he explained, “Molly was captured, and we don’t know whether anyone on Hosea’s side was captured either. If we send letters, our location could easily be exposed.”

The reasoning was simple enough, and Arthur understood immediately.

“Then... what are we supposed to do?”

Arthur sounded discouraged. “We don’t even know where they ran to.”

“Which is exactly why we can’t go looking for them right now.”

Dutch slipped his pistol into its holster, then picked up the coat nearby and pulled it on.

“We need to make some noise.”

“Make some noise???”

Arthur was shocked. He quickly grabbed Dutch by the arm.

“No, Dutch! We’ve already got so many people hunting us. If we start...”

“Are you an idiot?”

Dutch looked at Arthur in exasperation.

“The only way they’ll be safe is if we make enough noise to draw everyone’s attention onto us!!!”

“The Pinkertons, Cornwall, whoever else is out there. I’m the one they want!”

“They want me, not Hosea or any of the other old folks and children.”

“So the moment I show myself, every eye will turn toward me. Then Hosea and the others will be safe. Do you understand???”

Once Dutch explained it that way, Arthur finally understood.

“But... isn’t that a little too... risky?”

It was certainly a risky plan.

Drawing everyone’s attention onto himself just to cover Hosea and the others?

Arthur understood the logic, but something about it still felt wrong.

Dutch silenced every doubt he had with a single question.

“Would you rather take the risk yourself, or make Hosea and the others take it???”

Arthur had nothing to say.

If the alternative was putting Hosea in danger, Arthur would rather face an army of thousands by himself.

“All right. So what do we do next?”

Arthur looked at Dutch, who clearly already had something in mind.

“What are we going to do to get their attention?”

“Simple. We pull off something big!”

A faint smile appeared on Dutch’s face.

“That old woman from the Braithwaite family. I’m going to start with her.”

“What the fuck?”

That caught Arthur completely off guard.

“Dutch, we just escaped from Rhodes, and now you’re planning to go back?”

Arthur stared at Dutch in disbelief, unable to figure out what he was thinking.

“Now is the perfect time!”

Dutch clenched his fist and gritted his teeth.

“Do you know why we’ve been waiting here?”

“Why we’ve been sitting around like beggars, doing nothing in this stinking swamp?”

“Huh? You think I like it here?”

“I’ve been waiting for an opportunity! Waiting for that old woman from the Braithwaite family to lower her guard!!!”

Dutch grabbed the rifle nearby and tossed it to Arthur, then stepped up beside him and raised his fist.

At that moment, Dutch’s eyes were filled with madness, hatred, and fury.

Yes, fury.

For a moment, Arthur felt as though he barely recognized the man in front of him.

Rage had completely consumed his eyes.

“Now. Right now. That old woman must be celebrating at her estate, celebrating that she finally got the Rhodes she’s always dreamed of.”

“And when she’s at the very height of her triumph, I’m going to drag her out of that estate and hang her!!!”