Lenny followed Dutch and Bill in riding to Lagras. He wasn't exactly sure what they were doing yet. It didn't matter to him either way. He was excited to be included in something that Micah got publicly rejected over.
When they arrived at a small shack, Lenny thought it time he figure out what was going on. "Say, Dutch, what's the plan?"
Dutch hitched his horse and told him, "We're paying Mr. Bronte a visit."
"What are we going to do?"
"Scare him. Maybe ransom him, if it comes to it." Dutch faced him with a fierce expression. "Mostly, we're gonna make sure he knows he set up the wrong men."
Lenny nodded. He'd been hoping they'd get revenge over that trolley fiasco. The three of them had nearly been killed that day.
As they strolled up to the dock, Dutch asked, "Bill, what do you think of that Charlotte woman?"
Bill shrugged. "Eh, you know me, Dutch. If they gotta be around, I'd rather they kept their traps shut and did something useful, like house chores or cooking."
Dutch chuckled. "I am inclined to agree, to a certain extent."
Lenny held silent. He wasn't as jaded as these two about women. Though only one woman still had a clutch on his heart, if he was being honest. The image of Jenny and the feelings attached hadn't faded.
Brown hair that she never put up, so it was always being thrown back when she laughed, which she did often. She had a loud laugh, contagious. She wasn't the prettiest of the girls, but she was always smiling, which Lenny thought made up for it.
Lenny was a fool for not expressing his feelings to her sooner, for not saying anything when he had a chance. He'd had it and missed it, a week before she'd been killed.
It was at their camp in Blackwater. Miss Grimshaw had ordered him to collect Jenny for dinner, as she hadn't been around all day. He'd found her down by the water, sitting on a rock, by herself for once. That had bolstered Lenny to finally admit his feelings for her.
But when he approached her, he could tell something was wrong. Her arms were wrapped around her knees in a protective gesture. She was watching the sunset, deep in thought. Her usual happy grin was no where to be found.
Lenny didn't know what had happened, what she was thinking, but he dejectedly determined it wasn't the right time for pouring his heart out. He called her name and her friendly smile was back in place. She hopped down from the rock and that was that. His lost opportunity now stuck in time forever, never to be resolved.
"My Annabelle," Dutch was saying, dragging Lenny out of memory, "Now, she was a fine woman. She could cook, clean and love unconditionally. All without any backtalk."
"I'm glad that Molly's gone," Bill said, probably thinking of all the arguing her and Dutch got into. "Uncle said she was on a rampage before she left. Hitting and yelling at him to stay away from that Charlotte."
Dutch asked sharply, "She spoke to Mrs. Balfour?"
"Yeah, I guess." Bill shrugged and asked excitedly, "So, Dutch, what's Tahiti like anyhow?"
Dutch had turned contemplative a moment, but at Bill's question, answered, "I have no idea, but I hear it's paradise."
Dutch had mentioned Tahiti a few times now. Lenny didn't know anything about it either, but he thought Dutch would have a clearer picture as to where he wanted all of them to end up.
Lenny tried not to frown as he unexpectedly heard Pa's voice in his mind overlapping Dutch's conversation with Bill.
"You're gonna meet folks in this life that talk real pretty, but listen to them closely, son. Really listen. Because if they're talking, but they're not saying anything new, they're just thinkers, nothing more. You follow the men of action. Or better yet, you be that man of action."
Dutch's voice broke in again. "That's why we got to get this job done, gentlemen. Once Bronte's out of the way, we'll have a clear shot of the bank. We'll get that money and we'll get the hell out of here once and for all."
The mention of money had Lenny remembering he hadn't spoken to Dutch about the missing cash in the contributions box. Now was as good a time as any.
"Dutch—"
"There you two are!" Dutch exclaimed, standing at the arrival of John and Arthur. He added accusingly, "You're late."
"Blame Marston." Arthur jutted his thumb. "He sleeps like the dead."
John complained, "I got the early guard shift again this morning."
"Enough." Dutch nodded to the man on the boat. "Thomas, let's get going."
"Right you are."
The five men boarded the boat with Thomas. Bill took the front seat, John sat next to Dutch and Lenny got in next to John. Arthur jumped in last, sitting behind them and helping Thomas push off the dock.
"Hey, Bill," Dutch chuckled. "You were a sharpshooter in the cavalry, weren't you?"
"What?"
Dutch went on, ribbing Bill about the army, earning a chuckle from Arthur. Then Bill got angry over it, but what he said caused Dutch to begin a lecture on the definition of savagery.
Arthur shook his head and commented, "Interesting way you boys got for preparing for a killing."
Lenny frowned. Killing? Sure there were guards that wouldn't survive the night, but Bill and Dutch had said they'd only be giving Bronte a scare.
Dutch said with regret, "I'm sorry I wasted my life trying to teach you boys, love you though I do."
"Well, leaving love aside..." Arthur cleared his throat. "...you think we got this?"
"Don't you never leave love aside, Arthur," Dutch said seriously. "It's all we got."
It seemed like no time that they'd reached the shore again, but now they were landing in the back of Bronte's mansion.
"Good luck to you," Thomas said solemnly as they left the boat. Lenny nodded a thanks in his direction.
All five of them scaled the wall surrounding the place, Bill struggling the most with it.
As they hit the ground, Dutch instructed, "Lenny, Bill, you're with me."
John and Arthur took off down the left side, both crouching and heading for the nearest guards.
Bill goaded, "Don't you get scared, kid."
"You just handle yourself, Bill." Lenny checked over his guns. "This ain't nothing new to me."
Bill was a loudmouth, but he was decent enough to have around during a gunfight. He didn't shy away from the job and he actually hadn't been as obnoxious these past few weeks, since they'd worked together on a couple of jobs.
Lenny followed Bill and Dutch. They waited for John and Arthur to fire the first shots.
Once the real shooting began, Dutch strode out of cover and called brazenly, "We're coming for you, Bronte!"
Lenny didn't know if he'd call it bravery. Foolish and reckless, it seemed to him. But Dutch did it so confidently, maybe he knew what he was doing.
Arthur and John were much better shots than he and Bill, that much was clear. They cleared their side and quickly made up the ground to him, Bill and Dutch. Lenny thought his aim was accurate, but he knew he wasn't felling as many.
When there weren't anymore guards outside, Lenny followed the other men up to the door. Arthur tried ramming it with his shoulder, but it was locked. Dutch tossed him a shotgun and they blew the lock and knobs clean off.
Arthur kicked open the door and the five of them made quick work of the gunmen in the entrance and surrounding rooms.
Dutch ordered, "Arthur, John, search upstairs."
Arthur went to the stairs, paused, and pointed at Lenny. "You keep that door covered."
Lenny nodded, but Arthur was already taking the steps two at a time. John followed behind while Bill and Dutch searched downstairs, picking off anyone remaining.
Lenny kept his eyes peeled, but so far the night outside was quiet, no sign of lawmen or extra guards. But they were on the edge of town. Might take the policemen extra time to respond, especially if they were bringing in loads of men. Lenny didn't know how many they could have left. He thought he and Arthur shot most of them during the trolley robbery.
There were a couple gunshots upstairs and he heard Arthur yell, "John! In here!"
There was scuffle and a loud thump, but no more shots rang out.
Lenny thought that was it then. They'd made it in and got Bronte without a hitch. Then the whistles erupted from the foggy streets and that was the signal for the law showing up. Lenny started shooting as Dutch took a spot beside him.
Arthur, carrying the unconscious man over his shoulder, made his way downstairs between Lenny's shooting. Somehow, Arthur could hold a full grown man and keep up his own defense.
Lenny took the lead out of the mansion, Bill close behind as they both felled lawmen left and right. Dutch ran past him, followed by Arthur carrying Bronte and John. Lenny provided the cover fire.
He yelled, "Come on, Bill!"
Finally, Bill got his ass moving, but then another lawman showed up on the right, ducking behind a hedge. One lawman would be all it took to stop the gang if he got past. Lenny waited for the man to poke his head out and shot twice.
When Lenny saw no more, he took off at a run, half worried the fellas mighta left without him for taking so long.
But no. They were still there and ready to launch the skiff as soon as he hopped in next to Bill.
Once they were away from the mansion and clear of the the lawman, Dutch smacked Bronte's head a couple of times to wake him up. "Hey. Big man."
Bronte woke, saw who was present and spat out, "You're pathetic."
"Oh, I am?" Dutch sat back. "'Cause from where I'm sitting, you're the one deserving of pity, my friend."
Bronte shook his head like he couldn't believe the nerve of Dutch.
"All your men," Dutch continued. "all your money, it weren't no match for a bunch of bumpkins."
Bronte glared and bit out, "You are nothing. You do nothing. You mean nothing. You stand for nothing. Me?" He sat up, full of defiance. "I run a city, and when the law catch up to you, you will die like nothing." He looked around at all of them, fierce, despite the situation he'd wound up in. "I am this country. You...you...you are what people are running from."
Dutch's voice was low, angry. "I possess things that you will never understand."
Bronte scoffed. "You don't even possess your own men." Now he looked to him, Arthur, John, Bill and even Thomas. "A thousand dollars to the man who kills him and sets me free."
The group in the boat stared at Bronte. What did the man expect? He'd pissed off too many people to have allies here. He was asking the wrong sort of crowd.
Dutch, triumphant, leaned in. "What are you gonna say now?"
For the first time, fear crept into Bronte's tone, but he still didn't beg for mercy. Defiantly, he told Dutch, "They are even bigger fools than you."
"No doubt."
"The law will find you," Bronte said chillingly, "Already, the dogs are on the way."
Pinkertons? Lenny wondered. Already?
"You're right." Dutch loomed over Bronte, and now the man flinched in earnest. "You are so right."
Dutch was angry, angry like Lenny had never seen him. He moved quick, clutching Bronte's head and pushing him over the side of the boat, dunking the man's face into the filthy swamp water. Lenny grinned. That would scare him alright.
"Your friends, the Pinkertons, gonna come and rescue you?"
Dutch lifted Bronte's head out of the water and Lenny thought that was the end of it. But Dutch didn't stop. Again, he pushed the Italian's head under, but this time Dutch left him for longer. Bronte gurgled and his legs flailed. Lenny looked to Arthur, who was watching with a face of stone and then John, who couldn't hide a horrified cringe.
Lenny returned his gaze to Dutch, who wasn't letting go, and his grin fell. This...this wasn't what he was expecting .
"You call them now. Call them!"
But Bronte wouldn't be saying any more words tonight, or ever. As soon as Bronte stopped struggling, Dutch tipped him over the edge and the body splashed, loudly in the deadened silence that had fallen over the company. Just as Lenny thought it done, a gator slithered its way over the water and took his meal, ripping the flesh through fancy clothing and tainting the dark water red.
The gruesome vision had Lenny sick to his stomach. As Thomas docked the boat, Lenny jumped out and walked a few paces away, grabbing hold of a dock post. He heard John challenging Dutch and Dutch snapping back, but he didn't hear the words through his nausea.
Lenny didn't vomit, but he was close to it. He breathed in and out, getting his bearings and shutting out what he'd just witnessed.
Eventually, Dutch clapped him heartily on the back. "You did good back there, son."
It was praise that would have elated him only an hour ago and now it landed hollowly.
Seeing his expression, Dutch told him, almost with regret, "It weren't pretty and it weren't nice, but he weren't nice to us."
Lenny nodded like he understood, but he wasn't sure he did. Killing bad folks, lawmen, O'Driscolls, bounty hunters, Pinkertons, that he could get behind. With guns in their hands, they was all fair game. But Bronte had been unarmed and tied up. He hadn't begged for his life, but Lenny didn't think it would have mattered if he had.
"I'll see you back at camp, son." Dutch and Bill strode down the dock and mounted their horses. Then they were away as if the job they'd completed had been a normal one.
Lenny didn't realize he'd been staring until Arthur's hand landed on his shoulder. "You okay, kid?"
"Yeah," he said right away, though he tasted bile in his mouth.
"What'd you think of that little performance?" John asked of Arthur.
"I don't know," Arthur said quietly.
John demanded, "Is this how we do things now?"
"I don't know."
"This is bullshit, Arthur. You know it." John shook his head and gestured at the boat. "You don't think that was going too far?"
"I don't know," he said through gritted teeth.
"Well, what the hell do you know?"
"Bronte had to be dealt with somehow," Arthur argued. "We got this bank job to think of."
John stared at him, as if he wasn't sure what he was seeing.
Arthur looked away and started walking off.
"Where you goin'?"
"I...I gotta clear my head," Arthur threw over his shoulder. "I'm goin' for a ride."
"Unbelievable," John muttered. As Arthur mounted up, John called to him mockingly, "Don't forget your lady friend at camp. Wouldn't want her to find out firsthand all we are is a bunch of cold-blooded killers."
Arthur grimaced, but he didn't respond as he rode off.
"Runnin' away, that's what the hell he's doin'. Doesn't want to face what he just seen." John turned to him. "You're smart. You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"
Lenny hesitated. "Dutch wouldn't have done it like that if there was another way."
"Not you too." John released a frustrated huff. "Never mind. Forget I said anything."
Lenny followed him to the horses and they mounted up. He still felt a little sick to the stomach, but he was hoping the ride back to camp would clear it up.
Before he took off, John said, "If all he wanted was Bronte dead this whole time, we coulda hit the house and shot him. We woulda got in and out quick, instead of wasting time out here pretending we had any intention of ransoming that piece of shit."
Lenny frowned, mulling over that, but it seemed John wasn't in the mood to wait for any more discussion. He swung his mount around and galloped away.
Was Dutch wrong to kill Bronte? Lenny didn't think so. After all, the man had set them up. If they'd freed him, it was only a matter of time until Bronte retaliated. Any fool knew that.
But neither John nor Arthur liked the way it had been done, and it had made Lenny uncomfortable too. But Dutch was doing what had to be done...wasn't he?
Lenny spurred his mount on. He was listening, he was watching, and he wouldn't shirk from being a man of action when the time came.
