Reborn in 1878: America's Number One Bandit

Chapter 47 Even watching the fun isn't allowed!

After the horses have walked a certain distance...

The one-eyed burly man lowered his voice and said to Cross, "Major, I have a feeling those Chinese guys are suspicious. They weren't afraid of us at all when they saw us, their eyes were like wolves. And they're too strong, their physiques are even better than the strongest guys in our militia."

Skinny Monkey licked his chapped lips, his mind preoccupied with something else entirely: "Damn, that widow's eyes are fucking beautiful, as blue as a lake. And that figure, you can tell even through her nightgown, that ass, that waist..."

FUCK! I bet she slept with that Chinese guy! Did you see how she was grabbing that guy's arm just now? She was like a bitch protecting her man! What a fucking waste of a beautiful flower on a pile of cow dung!

Cross rode his horse in silence, his brow furrowed.

A strange, inexplicable sense of familiarity lingered in his mind.

He was 100% certain that he had never seen that young Chinese man before.

But for some reason, when he made eye contact with that young man just now, he had a feeling of déjà vu.

It was as if beneath that smiling facade lay another like him, who disregarded rules and treated life as worthless.

This feeling made him very uncomfortable.

Seeing them walk away, Lawson gave Ah Bao a wink.

Ah Bao understood immediately and disappeared silently into the depths of the forest, trailing far behind Cross and his group.

Lawson turned around, looked at Mrs. Marlene who was still sulking beside him, and smiled.

He gave her a light tap on her shapely, pert buttocks.

"Hey, you looked really cool just now."

He smiled and praised, "You look dashing, just like a real American Hotty."

Mrs. Marlene's body stiffened abruptly.

She glared at him fiercely, said nothing, turned around and quickly walked back into the house.

As Lawson watched her slightly flustered figure recede into the distance, his smile deepened.

He returned to the rocking chair under the porch and lay down leisurely.

This encounter with Cross was just a minor episode.

Although this butcher is troublesome, he is not enough to disrupt his overall plan.

Tonight, a truly major operation awaits him.

The Southern Pacific Railroad's pay train, Pinkerton's Wolverines, that's his main course tonight.

He needs to prepare properly and can't let anything delay him.

This was not just a routine robbery of a Southern Pacific Railroad pay train.

This was his first encounter with the Pinkerton National Detective Agency.

No mistakes can be made.

Logically speaking, after the last train robbery, the railway lines in Marin and Sonoma counties should now be heavily patrolled with vigilant police officers, with officers stationed every few steps.

But reality is ridiculously absurd.

The police force in Sonoma County was almost entirely wiped out by Lawson through his "wolf pack," and the few remaining officers were already terrified.

Police officers in Marin County were terrified and their morale plummeted after being "welcomed" by the eighteen headless corpses in Strawberry Town.

Therefore, the long, winding railway tracks that meander through the hills and valleys were almost completely undefended at this moment.

Only a few guards hired by the railway company, carrying lanterns, paced back and forth in the cold wind like lost ghosts, offering only psychological comfort.

Lawson continued to work out the scenarios on the mental sand table.

Invisible commands were precisely transmitted to the minds of every lurking unit.

The hyenas, led by the most cunning Johnny, are infiltrating fangs, advancing five miles north of San Rafael to watch all the forks leading to the railroad line.

The wolf pack, led by the fiercest scarred Finnian, is the sharpest tooth for attacking, and they have completed their final deployment at the designated ambush point, "Rattlesnake Canyon."

"Sassy Dog" and "Quick Help" are Steel Claws responsible for flanking attacks and creating chaos.

Along the railway line, every rustle of wind and movement in the surrounding area, any suspicious figure, any unfamiliar horse—all intelligence was gathered to him immediately.

Four gangs named after wild beasts, 140 well-equipped and absolutely loyal bandits, like four torrents of death, silently changed course in the fields of Northern California, converging on the same hunting ground.

Tonight, in order to pay the highest "homage" to the renowned Pinkerton Detective Agency...
All the violent machines under his command will unite to present them with an unprecedented welcome feast of steel and blood.

Meanwhile, in the sheriff's office in Marin County.

Allen Cross was polishing the hammer of his massive Dragoon revolver with a piece of deerskin.

After making his rounds, he returned here.

This will be his headquarters for suppressing bandits.

The office door was carefully pushed open. The goatee-wearing councilor from Marin County walked in, clutching a telegram.

"Mr. Special Envoy."

"It's a telegram from the Southern Pacific Railway Company."

The councilor handed over the telegram: "Their pay train will enter Marin County tonight. We hope our county can provide assistance to ensure the train's safety."

Kroos finally stopped polishing.

“I am California’s Special Commissioner, not some damn railroad company’s private bodyguard! I only answer to the governor and the state government! A bunch of money-grubbing capitalists think they can boss me around?”

The congressman shuddered at the menacing tone in his words and quickly explained, "No, sir. They're just requesting assistance. After all, the Southern Pacific Railroad has considerable influence in the state legislature..."

"Didn't they spend a lot of money to hire the Pinkerton Detective Agency's elite team to escort them?"

Cross's lips curled into a cruel smile: "What, did the Pinkerton Detective Agency ask you bunch of trash for help?"

"No, not at all." The congressman shook his head.

"That's right!"

Cross slammed his hand on the table, making the kerosene lamp on the table jump.

“Those bastards in Pinkerton love to boast that their equipment is better than ours in the U.S. Army, and that their agents are all war gods who can take on ten men.”

"What was their bullshit slogan again? 'We never sleep!' Since they're so capable, let them solve their own problems! You bunch of meddlesome idiots don't need to clean up their messes!"

Cross's loathing for the Pinkerton Detective Agency is deep-seated.

During the Civil War, Alan Pinkerton provided intelligence services to the Union Army.

After the war, this private armed company expanded rapidly, even taking over many of the "dirty jobs" that originally belonged to the military, such as hunting down outlaws in the West.

To a traditional military man like Cross, Pinkerton's agents were nothing more than a group of high-paid, dishonest mercenaries.

Their relationship with the Army involves both professional cooperation and fierce competition for resources and prestige.

The military looked down on their profit-driven approach, while they mocked the military's bureaucracy and inefficiency.

Cross pondered for a moment, his fingers tapping lightly on the map on the table.

He certainly wouldn't send anyone to protect the train.

Even if something really happens, relying on these cowardly cowards in the police station would be a waste of time and resources to send them to their deaths.

but……

A thought quietly crept into his mind.

"We can go and see what's going on."

Cross gave a sinister smile: "If those damned Irish gangsters are really stupid enough to dare to make a move against this train escorted by 'Wolverines,' then we'll have a good show."

He paced around the room, his eyes growing brighter and brighter.

"Let those arrogant Pinkerton guys fight the bandits to the death. If they win, we lose nothing. If they're crippled, the bandits will be weakened, and we might be able to pick up a big profit."

He yelled at the door, "Pass on my orders! Notify all officers in Marin County who can still handle a gun to assemble here immediately!"

The rallying cry for this bunch of useless people in Malin County has just been sounded.

Lawson received the news.

"This old man has quite the energy."

He muttered to himself, "We just arrived in Malin County and they're already causing trouble without resting. Aren't they afraid of dying here at their age?"

Lawson understood Cross's intentions almost instantly.

Want to be the one who catches the predator? Want to get something for nothing?
A cold killing intent flashed in Lawson's eyes.

These useless police officers in Marin County are no good, whether they're helping Pinkerton or just watching from a distance!
The stage for tonight's grand performance must be absolutely clean.

Apart from the actors, no extra audience members are allowed.

He immediately issued a new order.

[Order: Slut, immediately disengage from your assigned combat formation!]

Your new mission is: all personnel must march southwest at full speed and reach the "Weeping Widow" pass before Cross to conduct sniping!

[Objective: Intercept and intercept the Marin County Sheriff's Force led by Aaron Cross!]

[Operation Order: At all costs, do not allow them to approach the railway line even a step before the battle is over!]

Watching the show? No way!

P.S.: Mrs. Ma Lin said, "Dear Chinese readers, please vote for me!"
(End of this chapter)