Reborn in 1878: America's Number One Bandit

Chapter 79 Lawson's Undermining Strategy

San Rafael Town, temporary command post.

Thorne and Kane had just received two telegrams from headquarters in Chicago.

The telegraph operator's hands were shaking when he handed it to them.

"FUCKING SHIT!"

Kane crumpled the telegram into a ball and slammed it to the ground.

"We're sitting here like two idiots! We've been played by a bunch of bastards, and now we're getting scolded by the big shots at headquarters!"

"Calm down, Kane. Getting angry won't solve anything."

"What can solve this problem?"

"intelligence."

Thorne splashed some cold water on his face: "We need intelligence, and all we have right now is a living lead."

Kane immediately understood what he meant.

"Dennis Kearney!"

"Yes."

Thorne threw down the towel: "Let's go meet this workers' leader!"

dungeon.

Dennis was sitting on a pile of moldy straw.

The dungeon door was kicked open, and Thorne and Kane's figures blocked the only source of light.

“Mr. Kearney.”

Thorne spoke coldly: "Let's talk."

Dennis looked up, his beard disheveled, but his eyes bright.

It was as if he had been waiting for them all along.

“Two Pinkerton captains, I thought you would be like that brainless Lieutenant Buck, talking to me with your rifle butts.”

“We are not Buck.”

Kane paced back and forth impatiently: "We're here to ask you questions. What exactly is your relationship with that gang?"

"My relationship with them was that I was almost framed by them and almost died under your gunfire."

"Where's the severed head from your luggage?!"

Dennis scoffed, "You're detectives, Captain Kane. Do you really believe that a gang member would be stupid enough to wrap a state commissioner's head in lime, put it in his saddlebag, and then swagger into a town? This is clearly a frame-up! That damn Buck is framing me!"

He rushed to the cell door and gripped the iron bars tightly.

“I’ve said it before, I’m innocent! I received a tip that a bunch of scoundrels had infiltrated the Irish community in Northern California, and that’s why I came to investigate them, to clean house!”

Thorne and Kane remained silent.

They already knew that Dennis was most likely innocent.

Buck's evidence was too perfect, so perfect that it was like a clumsy trap.

The gang's subsequent call to rescue Dennis further confirmed that this was a meticulously planned frame-up.

Even if you are innocent.

Thorne tentatively asked, "You're now a wanted gang member throughout California. What makes you think we should believe you?"

That's exactly what Dennis was waiting for.

"With you all looking like headless flies, you'll never find them!"

“You are outsiders. Your people in Marin County don’t understand a word of Gaelic. You will never find them on your own!”

"But I can! Let me out!"

“Captain, let me out. I, Dennis Kearney, am the leader of the Irish laborers in California! They only trust me!”

“If you let me out, I can mobilize them. I will tell them that this gang is a disgrace to us! They are the ones who made our wives and children starve and be cursed in San Francisco!”

"I will help you investigate and find those rats hiding in the community, one by one!"

After he finished speaking, Thorne and Kane remained speechless for a long time.

What they lack most right now is intelligence, channels to penetrate deep into the Irish population.

If Dennis can really mobilize the local Irish people as he says, that would undoubtedly be their biggest asset in breaking the deadlock!
Thorne hesitated, "How can I guarantee you won't run away?"

Dennis laughed loudly: "Where can I run? I'm public enemy number one in America! Only by helping you catch the real culprit can I clear my name! Our interests are aligned now, Captain!"

Thorne and Kane exchanged a glance.

They were indeed tempted.

"But there's a problem."

Kane spoke again: "The men guarding this place are Buck's men. He'd love to hang you right now. He won't let you go."

"That's your problem."

Dennis leaned back against the wall, regaining control: "You're the commanders of Pinkerton, he's just a militia lieutenant. You're going to talk to Buck, aren't you?"

"Okay, we get it."

After a moment's hesitation, Thorne and Kane turned and left the dungeon.

"boss……"

Inside the cell, one of the henchmen asked, "Will they really release us?"

Dennis did not respond.

He just stared straight at the faint light under the crack in the door, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

He wasn't sure if he would be released, but it was his only way out.

He'll definitely turn things around once he gets out of this filthy dungeon!

Now, it remains to be seen how Thorne and Kane will act.

A moment later, the dungeon door was opened again.

Dennis's heart leaped into his throat again.

Is it Thorne and Kane? Have they reached a decision? So quickly!

He and his men in the cell instinctively stood up, looking at the newcomer with hopeful expressions.

The light was blocked by a tall figure.

"Ho ho!"

The newcomer let out a rough laugh.

Upon seeing who it was, Dennis's hope shattered instantly.

It's Buck!
“Look, brothers!”

Buck, leaning against the doorframe, laughed loudly at the militiamen behind him: "Look at our big shot, Mr. Dennis!"

"What? You're still hoping those two detectives from Chicago will treat you like a VIP and escort you out? Bah!"

Buck spat a mouthful of phlegm on the ground: "Stop fucking playing your political tricks."

"Let me tell you, your tricks that work on gullible guys on the streets of San Francisco won't work here."

Dennis tried to keep himself calm.

After all, this idiot is still a key figure.

“Lieutenant, I must reiterate, I am innocent. That head was indeed a frame-up, it was…”

Shut your filthy mouth! I don't fucking care if you're innocent or not!

He grinned maliciously as he approached the cell door: "All I know is that Commander Cross's head was found in your luggage."

"And those damn Irish bastards specifically requested to rescue you!"

That's enough! FUCK!

"Enjoy this, Mr. Leader. You're all waiting to be hanged. I'll personally put the noose around your necks and then kick the wooden planks under your feet away!"

"Oh, right, today and tomorrow, you are not allowed to send any food or water to these cells!"

He turned to the jailer: "Did you hear that? Starve them for two days! Let them taste what their compatriots were like during the Great Famine before they're hanged!"

"You can't do this! This is..."

Why the hell can't I?

Buck laughed and turned to leave.

"Here, I, Buck, call the shots!"

"boom!"

The prison doors slammed shut again, and the world returned to darkness.

"..."

Dennis remained silent for a few seconds, then suddenly went berserk, shaking the iron bars with all his might. "Damn idiots!"

"You brainless idiot! You complete and utter stupid pig! You're ruining everything! FUCKYOU!"

The dungeon was dark and damp, but Mrs. Marlene's manor backyard was sunny and bright.

Sweat streamed down his bronze skin, reflecting a blinding light.

"I am coming!"

Er Gou roared and swept a side kick toward Lawson's ribs.

That kick was enough to break the leg bone of a mule.

At the same time, Ah Hu and Da Niu surrounded him from the front like two walls, their large, fan-like hands grabbing at Lawson's shoulders, trying to lock him in place!
From his side and rear, Ah Bao, Er Niu, and San Gou attacked his lower body and back from various tricky angles!
Six strong assassins, skilled in hand-to-hand combat and working in perfect coordination, were capable of tearing a grown black bear apart in a minute.

At this moment, the men were shirtless, drenched in sweat, and had been besieging the group for nearly ten minutes!

Just as Er Gou's foot was about to hit his body, Lawson slightly turned to the side at an incredible angle.

He stepped directly into the center of the six people's encirclement.

This action caused a slight pause in the rhythm of everyone's attack.

It's now.

"boom!"

Lawson elbowed Ah Hu in the chest as he charged forward.

Ah Hu, whose body weighed over 200 pounds, was sent flying backwards with both feet off the ground.

He lay on the ground for a long time and couldn't get up.

Immediately afterwards, Lawson turned around and used his core strength to deliver a whip kick.

"Crack! Crack!"

Ah Bao and San Gou tried to block with their arms, but the force sent them flying backward.

In the blink of an eye, only Da Niu, Er Niu, and Er Gou remained on the field.

"Roar!"

Er Gou got impatient and abandoned his fighting skills, charging forward like a bull with his head down.

Lawson grinned, neither dodging nor avoiding, and met the attack head-on.

He rammed into her hard with his shoulder in return.

"Boom!"

Er Gou was inevitably knocked away and rolled seven or eight times on the ground before coming to a stop.

Lawson stood still and beckoned to Da Niu and Er Niu with his finger.

five minutes later.

Six tough guys, who could roam freely in Northern California, were all lying sprawled on the ground, panting heavily.

Lawson stood between them, sweat glistening in the sunlight as it slid down his sharply defined muscles.

He tilted his head back and exhaled a long breath.

carefree!

This feeling of wielding absolute power is even more intoxicating than strong liquor.

Lucy came running over with a pitcher of lemonade, her eyes sparkling: "Mr. Lawson! You're amazing! All six of them couldn't beat you!"

Lawson laughed heartily as he took the kettle and gulped down half of it in one go.

"That's because they haven't eaten!"

He smiled and pinched Lucy's cheek.

Lawson wiped his sweat and walked back to the shady spot under the eaves to sit down.

Just now, Finnian, Johnny, and the San Francisco assassins had passed on the latest intelligence to him.

Everything is within his grasp.

That idiot Buck didn't let the Pinkertons release Dennis, just as he expected.

Indeed, Dennis's usefulness is almost exhausted.

He has now successfully drawn all the hatred to that side, completely binding the labels of Irish gangsters and anti-Chinese leaders together with heads and blood.

Once Buck has been starved for two days, and his mental and physical limits have been reached, he can be taken offline.

Buck's atrocities were the perfect catalyst.

However, before that, we need to deal with the problems in Pinkerton.

Kill them all?
Even with their superior equipment, three hundred Pinkerton agents could be kept in Northern California if it came down to a direct confrontation, according to Lawson.

But this method is really stupid.

Only a brainless brute would do something that only knows how to kill.

That old man, Alan Pinkerton, is going to go crazy.

He would spare no expense, mobilize the entire nation's resources, and even lobby Congress to deploy the military!
That's not in Lawson's best interest at all.

What he wants is California, the country's resources!
Instead of perishing together with a pack of mad dogs.

Lawson prefers an alternative solution.

Dressed smartly, the problems were resolved in a relaxed and conversational manner.

Violence is just the last card played under the table.

It's a tool used to get the other person to obediently return to the card table and accept advice.

After thinking it over, Lawson patted Lucy's head.

It's time to show these detectives, who only know how to roam the wilderness of Northern California, what modern warfare is all about.

Another three days passed.

Chicago, Illinois.

It is two thousand miles away from the town of San Rafael.

The Pinkerton family estate is located in an affluent area on the shores of Lake Michigan.

The area is heavily guarded, with tall cast-iron fences and armed guards patrolling 24 hours a day.

These were all veterans of the Union Army, as well as Pinkerton's own Class A agents.

Anyone who tries to break in here will be riddled with bullets within seconds.

The night is dark.

The study in the main building of the manor was brightly lit.

Alan Pinkerton and his two sons were standing in front of a huge world map.

"So don't just focus on those Irish bastards in California."

Old Pinkerton was full of energy.

"Their life or death is merely a matter of appearances, but our substance lies in Europe."

"Bismarck unified Germany, the French had just lost the war and were holding their breath. And the Russians, like an unsatisfied bear, were always eyeing Turkey to the south."

"What does this have to do with us?"

Robert was somewhat puzzled.

"idiot!"

Old Pinkerton, exasperated, exclaimed: "War! War means risk! What does risk mean? It means information!"

“European bankers, nobles, and even royalty all want to know their opponents’ cards, and we at Pinkerton are the ones who sell those cards!”

“William, you’re going to London and Paris next month. Our European branch must be open by next spring. Tell them that President Lincoln trusted us, and so can the King of Europe!”

"Yes, father!"

"Robert, your mission is in the country."

Pinkerton then pointed to the map of the United States: "Labor issues, that's our gold mine for the next fifty years."

Those unions, and the strikers, are the cancer on the body of this country.

Factory owners and railroad tycoons—these people would line up to stuff money into our pockets, just asking us to solve their problems.

"But California..."

"California is just a lesson!"

Old Pinkerton scoffed, "A lesson to remember never to underestimate any enemy. Thorne and Kane will handle it. Our focus should remain on..."

"what!"

Before he could finish speaking, a woman's scream suddenly came from outside the study.

Immediately following was the loud crash of shattering glass.

(End of this chapter)