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Dutch's eyes flared dangerously, but he forced a smile. "Old friend… I know I asked a lot of you then. And I know things didn't go as planned. But I triple checked this time. Triple. I went to Saint Denis myself these past two days. I made sure it was good."
Arthur's eyebrows shot up. "You went to Saint Denis alone, Dutch?"
Dutch ignored him, doesn't even bat an eye to Arthur.
"The big bank in Saint Denis," Dutch continued, raising his voice, "are receiving government tax deliveries from Rhodes, Valentine, Blackwater, and Annesburg, four separate stagecoaches, all converging near the city tomorrow morning. Four coaches, full of money that belongs to no one we care about."
More murmurs. Louder now. Blackwater alone carried memories, painful and bloody ones. Hosea crossed his arms. "You said this is tomorrow morning?"
"Yes," Dutch said, straightening proudly. "Tomorrow. That is why we must prepare tonight. This is the opportunity we have been waiting for. The one that will finally set us free."
Caleb felt the shift immediately, the crowd split right down the middle in spirit. Lenny and Sean looked eager, Bill looked ecstatic, Sadie looked uncertain, Javier looked thoughtful, Charles looked troubled, John folded his arms, distrust written all over his face, and Arthur and Hosea both wore looks of deep concern.
And Dutch's eyes continued to slide over Caleb deliberately, like Caleb was less than a shadow.
Caleb knew exactly what was happening.
Dutch had a plan that he hadn't shared with Arthur or Hosea. Dutch had gone out alone, to find information which he uses now to push everyone into something reckless, something rushed, something dangerously similar to the mistakes that led to Blackwater.
Caleb schooled his face, no reaction, no challenge, no spark that Dutch could grab onto. If Dutch wanted to pretend he wasn't there, then Caleb would use that. He would listen. He would think. He would plan.
Dutch addressed the crowd again.
"So, here's how we're goin' to do it—"
But before he could continue, Hosea raised a hand, firm and steady. "Dutch. Before you get ahead of yourself, tell us this. What exactly did you hear? From whom? And what makes you so sure it isn't another trap?"
Dutch's smile faltered, not much, but enough for everyone to see the crack. "I said I checked it," Dutch insisted. "I confirmed it myself."
Arthur stepped forward. "What do you mean by confirmed, Dutch?"
Dutch's eyes snapped toward Arthur, cold for a heartbeat before softening into that charming façade.
"I have goes to the bank myself. And I overheard that the Pinkertons are somewhat involved but not by much, because the money amount is to big for the bank to lose it. This is real."
More murmurs immediately ensues after they heard it.
"Pinkertons?" John muttered. "Great. More of them."
Javier frowned. "If Pinkertons are involved, hermano, won't that make it harder?"
"Harder?" Dutch smiled, wolfish. "Maybe. But not impossible. Nothing is impossible for us."
Caleb stayed quiet, absorbing every detail.
Dutch was lying.
Not completely, but lying enough that the truth was twisted into something unrecognizable. Caleb had seen this version of Dutch in the game, grandiose, paranoid, impulsive, seeing signs and "messages" where there were none.
Dutch had never gone to Saint Denis alone in this timeline, that was either a big deviation or that he only heard of it somewhere. The plan itself was dangerous even when explained by someone stable.
But Dutch wasn't stable. He was spiraling out of control.
And Caleb could see who Dutch was looking at for validation, Arthur, Hosea, and sometimes John. The pillars Dutch still believed he controlled. Caleb's exclusion was intentional.
Caleb closed his eyes briefly, letting the noise of the camp fade.
He needed to position himself.
Dutch's voice broke through the crowd again.
"We'll split into four teams," he said. "Four coaches, four jobs. We hit 'em all at once, overwhelm the law and the guards before they even know we're comin'. Then we take the money, regroup back here, and then disappear before anyone knows what happened."
Bill grinned. "Sounds fun to me."
Sean pumped a fist in the air. "Now that's the Dutch I know!"
But others weren't so quick to cheer.
Charles's brow furrowed deeply. "Four stagecoaches, simultaneously… Dutch, that's a lot of ground to cover. A lot of things that can go wrong."
Dutch's smile strained. "That is why we spread out. Make each hit clean, fast, and coordinated."
Hosea shook his head. "Dutch… this is too much. Too rushed. Too risky. This feels like you're trying to chase a spark instead of a real plan."
Dutch's voice sharpened. "Are you saying you don't trust me, Hosea?"
Hosea's answer was quiet, pained. "I'm saying I'm worried about you."
A cold silence fell over the camp.
Dutch straightened, looking around slowly, theatrically, as if weighing everyone's worth in that moment.
Then his gaze paused, briefly, very briefly, on Caleb before sliding away again.
Caleb didn't flinch.
Dutch raised his voice to the group. "You all want freedom? Money? Safety? A chance to live without the law pitchin' tents in our arses?"
A few chuckles broke the tension.
"Then trust me," Dutch said. "Tomorrow, we strike. Tomorrow, we show 'em who we are. Tomorrow… we get our future back."
He spread his arms dramatically.
"So. Who's with me?"
Sean immediately shouted, "I'm in!"
Sadie nodded. "Count me in."
Javier hesitated… then nodded. "Si. If the plan is solid."
Bill's excitement could be felt. "Dutch… I… yeah. Yeah, I'm with you."
John didn't speak.
Arthur didn't speak.
Charles didn't speak.
Hosea's silence was deliberate.
Dutch saw it.
And he hated it.
Caleb continued to say nothing, because that was precisely what Dutch expected, and precisely what made Caleb dangerous in Dutch's eyes.
Dutch exhaled sharply. "We'll talk more tonight. Rest up. Prepare. We ride at dawn."
He turned and strode into his tent, cutting the conversation clean. The camp remained frozen for a heartbeat, tension clinging to the humid air.
Then people began to disperse.
Hosea walked away with a troubled expression. Charles muttered something under his breath. Javier rubbed the bridge of his nose. Bill ran after Dutch. Sean hummed a jaunty tune, blissfully unaware of the danger ahead.
Arthur remained standing were he is, looking at Dutch's tent with his jaw tight and hands curled, like something breaking inside him. Caleb stepped beside him quietly.
Arthur spoke without looking at him. "This… this don't feel right."
"No," Caleb agreed softly. "It doesn't."
Arthur finally turned his head toward him, eyes troubled. "What do we do?"
Caleb inhaled slowly.
"We stay smart," he said. "Stay together. Watch each and the other's backs. And when the time comes… we keep this gang from fallin' apart."
Arthur searched his face for a long moment then nodded. "Yeah," he said quietly. "We'll figure it out."
Caleb nodded at Arthur's quiet affirmation, ready to say something more, but before the words even reached his lips, a clear voice cut across the open air.
"Arthur! Caleb!"
Both men turned their heads sharply.
Hosea stood at the edge of camp, right where the trees began to thicken, his posture tense and his eyes stormy with worry. It wasn't often Hosea Matthews looked unsettled. When he did, the smart thing was to listen.
Arthur and Caleb exchanged a long look, one part concern, one part resignation, then headed toward the old man.
Arthur called out first, "What is it, Hosea?"
Hosea didn't waste breath. His tone was quiet, but urgent. "I didn't like the sound of that plan at all. Not one bit. Dutch is goin' on his own way, makin' decisions without tellin' a soul… and he doesn't say anything about this plan of his until the last minute."
Hosea shook his head slowly. "Usually he'd have me go check on it. Or you, Arthur. If he didn't trust anyone else, he trusted us. But now? He slips off alone, comes back with this grand idea, and expects blind faith."
Arthur sighed heavily, dragging a hand through his hair as frustration tightened his shoulders. "I agree. This whole thing feels wrong. Too sudden. Too… convenient."
He kicked a stone on the ground, sending it skimming across the mud until it plopped into the swamp with a small splash. "Dutch goin' off to Saint Denis alone? Since when does he do that? And we know how he can be sometimes, too damn easy to trust somethin' when there's a bag of cash at the end. Especially now, with how his head's been these days… I'm afraid he'll just believe anything."
He shook his head again, jaw clenching. "Pinkertons involved, and he still thinks it's okay to rob four damn stagecoaches at once…"
Hosea exhaled through his nose, long and troubled. "Exactly my thought."
Caleb stepped in then, voice measured. "I don't like how Dutch received the information conveniently in Saint Denis. It fits too well. Too easy. Too clean. Could be someone recognized him. Gave him some 'information' knowing exactly who he was. They could've easily passed word to the Pinkertons, who then could've planned all of this. Could've fed Dutch exactly what they knew he wanted to hear."
Arthur and Hosea both stiffened.
Caleb continued, "Think about it. A perfect setup. Give Dutch a tempting opportunity. Let him spread the gang out, four groups, isolated, easy to corner. Easy to kill. Or capture. The Pinkertons could take out the entire gang in one stroke."
Silence cracked through the three men like a dry twig.
Arthur's face darkened, a grim weight settling into his expression. Hosea's eyes grew dark with the kind of dread he only brought out when he knew something was deeply, dangerously wrong, as he'd just followed Caleb's logic all the way to the end, and didn't like where it led.
"God…" Arthur muttered. "Caleb might be right. What if all of this is their plan? They get us isolated, surrounded, and boxed in before we even know what hit us."
Hosea swallowed, eyes narrowing. "Such a trap would be… exactly what they'd want." He huffed a breath, not quite disbelief, more like resignation. "They know Dutch is desperate. Proud. Predictable in the wrong ways. They know he won't resist somethin' that sounds grand enough to save us all."
The old man rubbed his forehead wearily, lines deepening. "This puts us at enormous risk. Too enormous."
Arthur braced his hands on his hips, shoulders hunched forward. "What do we do, then?"
"I'm going to talk to him," Hosea said. "I'll try to talk some sense into him. Make him see reason. This isn't a risk we should take. Not now. Not like this. There's too much danger, too much we don't know."
Arthur nodded immediately. "I'm comin' with you. He'll listen better if we both speak. Two voices he used to trust."
Then he turned to Caleb. "You comin' too?"
Caleb shook his head. "No. I shouldn't." He glanced toward Dutch's tent, voice quiet but unwavering. "Dutch already doesn't like me. Bringing me along will just make him shut down. He'll see it as a challenge, not concern. If you want him to listen at all, it's better if I'm not there."
Hosea exhaled hard, shoulders sagging slightly. "He's right. Dutch won't hear a damned thing if he thinks Caleb is part of the pushback." He placed a hand lightly on Arthur's arm. "Just us. Dutch might still listen to the two of us."
Arthur didn't look entirely happy about it, but he accepted the logic. "…Alright. We'll go talk to him. We'll tell you what happens when we done."
Caleb nodded. "Be careful."
Hosea and Arthur headed toward Dutch's tent.
Caleb watched them go, tension coiling in his stomach like a snake ready to strike.
He knew what was coming.
He didn't know the details.
But he knew enough.
Dutch wasn't going to take this well.
Not at all.
Dutch's tent sat like a royal throne room at the center of camp, lantern lit, flap slightly open, shadows moving inside. Bill stood nearby, arms crossed protectively, like a guard dog watching over his master. But as Hosea and Arthur approached, Bill instinctively stepped aside. Even in his loyalty, even in his eagerness to please Dutch, Bill respected these two men more than he'd ever admit.
...
Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 7/10
- Agility: 7/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 7/10
- Charm: 7/10
- Luck: 8/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 4)
- Rifle (Lvl 4)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 4)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 3)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 4)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 4)
- Poker (Lvl 4)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 3)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 3)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 3)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 2)
- Crafting (Lvl 3)
- Persuasion (Lvl 3)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl 4)
- Teaching (Lvl 2)
- Trilingual Language Proficiency - G, I, & C (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 10x10x10)
- Acting (Lvl 4)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
- Drugs Resistance (Lvl MAX)
Money: 3,655 dollars and 10 cents
Inventory: 104,669 dollars and 72 cents, 11 gold nuggets, 64 gold bars, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 Colm's Schofields, land deed (Parcel), 1 Mauser, 1 Semi Auto Pistol, 1 Lancaster Repeater, 1 Old Wood Jewelry Box, 1 F.F Mausoleum small brass key, & 1 Ruby
Bank: -