The gangsters seemed to be very well trained and coordinated as they worked to load their haul into the carriages, and after mere ten minutes, they were already done and ready to leave. I, of course, also followed behind them while maintaining a safe distance.
They just rode their horses in silence as they made their way through the desert for what felt like fifteen minutes, and once I deemed it the right time to act, something changed as one gangster's head exploded, sending grey matter and red pieces of flesh flying everywhere.
That, however, was not the end, as a stick of dynamite flew over their heads and then exploded, injuring and killing even more of them.
"Dismount from the horses and the carriage, use them for cover, and look for the attacked," the man in charge barked orders quickly as he took a gun and held it with his right hand.
As the attack on them continued, the gangsters acted quickly, following the orders of their boss as they took cover behind the horses and the carriage.
"The attacks are coming from that hill to the north, boss. What should we do?" one of them finally seemed to discover the location of their attacker as he shouted at his superior.
"Shoot back and keep them busy. I'll flush the attackers out myself," replied the boss as he reached into his overcoat and took a cylindrical object with a light green skull drawn on it.
Looking at the small cylinder in their boss's hand, all the gangsters paled as they quickly took out black gas masks that covered their entire faces as they wore them in panicked haste.
The boss took a deep breath as he threw the cylinder at the hill's cliff, and then he too took out a gas mask and put it on his face quickly. The cylinder flew in an arching path and landed precisely at the edge of the cliff, exploding with a green cloud of poisonous smoke that seemed to expand as if it had a will of its own.
The attackers, a red-haired woman, which I had instantly recognized, and a man of average height with brown hair, and green eyes, took out their own gas-masks which they wore, and then jumped down to take cover behind a large rock below the cliff to have a clear line of sight without smoke hindering their vision.
The two groups continued to shoot at each other for a while longer. Miss. jones and her friend seemed to do very well, even outnumbered as they continued to thin the numbers of the gangsters.
Between the red-haired girl's accurate aim, her dynamite sticks, flashbangs that disoriented the enemy, and the power of her lever-action rifle, they were slowly gaining the advantage as the fight ensued.
But there was something strange about how miss Jones's friend, the brown-haired guy. More precisely, it was his shots that stood out as weird to me. His bullets didn't kill any of the people he hit, and he also avoided hitting any vital area, like the eyes and throat.
'Maybe he's one of those people who can't bring themselves to kill others, even when their life is on the line. What an idiot,' I thought in my head mockingly as I continued to watch the fight without revealing myself.
The fight continues to rage on as the advantage shifted slowly in miss jones's favor until there were only ten gangsters left standing, including their boss, who received a shot to his gut at some point during the fight.
"that's eno-cough, enough. We give up, so stop killing us, and we'll do as you say." said the boss while coughing some blood that traveled from his internal organs up to his mouth because of his injury.
"Drop your weapons and come out of cover with your hands held above your heads," the red-haired girl answered as she took out a yellow cylinder, which she hid beneath her sleeves.
"Ok, ok. I'll come out, so don't shoot. You boys hurry up and drop your weapons too," the boss said as he threw his weapon to the side and came out with hands up. His subordinates soon did the same and came out with their hands held up in surrender.
Miss Jones and her friend peeked from the side of their cover to check if the gangster's words matched their actions, And then they also came out from behind the rock, with their weapons aimed at them.
Looking at this scene, which should have indicated the end of the fight with miss jones's victory, I couldn't help but feel that something was off.
"Francis Nitti, son of Frank The Enforcer Nitti," miss jones said in a mocking tone of voice and halted for a second to spit at the ground. "I imagine your old daddy dearest would be very disappointed in you when he hears you failed this little rite of passage test and ended up in prison," she continued with disdain apparent in her voice as she kept her weapon aimed at the gangsters.
"Now why would daddy dearest be disappointed?" Francis said with confidence that a man in his position had no right to have, and the red-head merely raised an eyebrow in suspicion at his remark. "You see, I haven't failed my rite of passage yet, because it wasn't about robbing the train in the first place," he continued with a shit-eating grin on his face, and that when I knew for a fact that something was indeed wrong.
"Oh, then pray tell, what this whole farce was about if not your rite of passage," the red-haired girl said while tightening her hold on the weapons in her hand as the strangeness of the atmosphere finally seemed to make its self apparent to her.
"This whole train robbery situation was all a diversion, nothing but mirrors and smoke that I used to lure my actual target. And that target is you little miss bounty hunter. "the sleazy man explained like your stereotypical third-rate villain."and now I have right where I want, do it," He continued to explain and then made a simple order at the end of his speech.
The red-head reacted as quickly as she could and tried to squeeze the trigger of her rifle to blow the sleazy gangster boss's head up with a bullet, and suddenly the sound of a fired pistol echoed in the area.
Unexpectedly, however, the person to collapse was not Francis but her instead, as she wasn't fast enough to pull the trigger. What's even more surprising to her was that she was shot in her back, and the only person who could have taken that shot was her companion, the brown-haired man.
"Nothing personal miss, it's just the great families have deeper pockets."