Reborn in 1878: America's Number One Bandit

Chapter 25 Payday Train is great, but it's a disaster!
Payday Train!

Lawson paused, his eyes suddenly lighting up with an alarming intensity.

This is a super big fish!
Along the northern shore of the Kinmen Strait, there are at least eighty or a hundred railway construction sites of all sizes.

The salaries of thousands of workers, paid in a lump sum, how much money would that be?

Lawson estimated that there were at least tens of thousands of dollars in cash on the train!

Even more!

If we could rob it, why would we have to worry about those ten thousand US dollars worth of nickel?

Directly get it done in one step!
Lawson had already processed all the information about this pay train in his mind—

Escort personnel, firepower configuration, carriage structure, route, and time.

The only problem is time and distance.

Santa Rosa is located in the center of the neighboring county.

It would take at least five or six hours to ride there from him.

Sending a pack of wolves or hyenas to raid would be too late.

Lawson also planted some assassins in Sonoma County, a small number, all of whom were British white.

These people cannot do dirty work for the time being.

Fortunately, the train didn't arrive in Santa Rosa until 2 a.m.

This gave him enough room to maneuver.

A bold plan took shape in his mind.

"Ergou, Sangou, you two take the bear back first."

After saying that, he mounted his horse and hurried back to start making plans.

"Order: Sonoma County, the assassins codenamed 'Blacksmith' and 'Carpenter' are to proceed immediately to Santa Rosa Town and await orders in the back alley of 'Old Man's Gun and General Store'."

"Order: All remaining assassins in Sonoma County, put aside all other matters and use every means to gather thirty fast horses before midnight and meet at Redwood Forest, five miles east of Santa Rosa."

Each instruction, like a scalpel, sliced ​​through the night.

Old Man's gun and general store was a location the assassins had already identified.

That old guy not only sells farm tools, but also deals in arms; his stock is enough to arm a platoon.

Whether it's a raid or a retreat, horses are just as important as guns.

Everything is arranged properly.

Lawson's consciousness, like God high in the clouds, overlooks the entire Sonoma County.

He watched his chess pieces move silently in the night, each taking its place.

By this time, Lawson's body had returned home.

He took off his clothes, lay quietly on the bed, put his hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling.

He is prepared to personally direct this high-stakes gamble.

The midnight bells rang in the old church in Santa Rosa.

For most of the town’s residents, it was just another ordinary night that had passed in the middle.

The time has come.

Lawson immersed his consciousness into the system and locked onto the two assassins who were already positioned in the back alley of "Old Man's Gun and General Store".

[Daily refreshed quota: 29/29]

[Refreshing racial profile: Irish]

[Refresh Location: Anchored]

[Refresh confirmed!]

In the deepest shadows of the back alley, the air seemed to distort slightly.

Without light or sound, twenty-nine tall, robust figures silently coalesced like ghosts from hell.

The clear instructions had been directly imprinted in their minds through the mental link.

"action."

In the alley, a night watchman guarding the back door of a grocery store was dozing off against the wall.

Before he could utter a sound, a dark figure flashed out from behind him and delivered a precise chop to the back of his neck.

The night watchman's body went limp, and he was dragged into the darkness like a tattered sack.

"Click."

A wire was inserted into the old brass lock, and after a few deft manipulations, the back door opened with a click.

Thirty-one dark figures filed in.

Old Man's Gun and Arms Store is more like a small armory than a general store.

The air was filled with the mixed smells of gun oil, leather, and nitrate.

The walls were covered with long guns and short cannons, and the boxes under the counter were stuffed with bullets.

The assassins quickly looted the area. "Winchester M1873, one for each person."

"Colt Peacemaker, one man, two guns."

"One hundred and fifty bullets for each person, stuff them into all the pockets."

"There are Remington spray guns in that cabinet over there, take five more."

The command resounded in their minds, and they instinctively and frantically armed themselves.

Inspect the chamber, pull the bolt, and load the bullets one by one into the magazine.

Besides the guns and ammunition, Lawson also discovered an unexpected bonus.

In the basement, there were two whole boxes of high explosives.

"Very good, take them all."

Thus, the twenty-nine strong Irish men were transformed into a heavily armed commando unit.

They carried long guns on their backs, had two revolvers tucked into their waistbands, and their pockets were stuffed with bullets. Several other men were carrying bundles of explosives.

Just as they finished arming themselves, the sound of horses' hooves came from the back alley of the grocery store.

They were local assassins who, following orders, either stole or robbed, managed to gather more than thirty fast horses.

Not a word of nonsense.

The assassins hung their weapons on their saddles and mounted their horses.

The whole process was eerily quiet, with only the uneasy snorting of the horses and the clanging of leather against metal.

A ghostly cavalry, born at midnight, quietly assembled in the sleeping town.

"Set off."

Lawson issued his second order.

More than thirty riders, like a black stream, flowed out of the alley and into the empty street.

They controlled the horses to walk slowly, and even wrapped their hooves in burlap to reduce the noise.

As they left the town and embarked on the dirt road leading to the eastern mountains, the leader of the assassins suddenly waved his hand.

"drive!"

In an instant, more than thirty knights simultaneously spurred their mounts.

The warhorses began to gallop wildly, their rapid hoofbeats shattering the tranquility of the night like war drums.

They cast a long black silhouette in the moonlight as they swept toward their designated ambush location.

The ambush site was an excellent location carefully selected by Lawson based on intelligence.

It was a sharp bend in the railway track where trains had to slow down to the minimum speed.

The railway tracks are flanked by steep rock walls, forming a natural canyon.

This means that if a train accident occurs, the passengers will be caught in a dilemma, and the guards on board will have nowhere to hide.

The Ghost Riders reached their destination.

"Work."

The assassins dismounted and immediately divided up their tasks.

Six suicide bombers, carrying explosives, skillfully secured bundles of oil paper packages under the innermost rail of the curve, burying them with soil and gravel, leaving only the fuse heads exposed.

Another assassin pulled a long cord and laid it all the way to a giant rock a hundred yards away.

The remaining assassins nimbly climbed up the rock walls on both sides of the canyon.

They searched for the best shooting position, set up their rifles, and the dark muzzles of the guns peeked out from the cracks in the rocks.

everything's ready.

The entire valley returned to a deathly silence.

More than thirty ruthless bandits lay motionless in the darkness, like rock sculptures.

Their patience surpasses human limits; they feel no tension, fatigue, or fear.

They are just waiting.

Time passes while waiting.

The night wind whistled through the canyon.

I waited another half hour.

A slight tremor came from underground.

Immediately afterwards, a long, drawn-out whistle pierced the silence of midnight, echoing through the valley.

The assassins lying in ambush at the highest point sent a signal back to Lawson.

"Target appears."

On the distant horizon, a black dot gradually grows larger as it approaches.

The train is coming.

(End of this chapter)