Chapter 178: Surrender
Although the employees were highly capable, being forced to fight defensively would inevitably lead to casualties and cause some damage to the ranch.
Moving the battlefield elsewhere and striking in the form of an ambush would keep losses to a minimum.
The intelligence provided by the Braithwaite family proved extremely useful. However, anything involving them would be handled directly by Davey.
After confirming the plan, Emin and Mac led thirty employees to set up the ambush. Another group was assigned to scout the other routes, ensuring that if the enemy didn’t come by the bridge, Emin and Mac could respond in time.
Emin’s analysis was spot-on. From a high vantage point, the scouts observed the distance through binoculars.
Sure enough, they spotted seventy to eighty men approaching from that direction.
“Alright, boys, get ready,” Mac shouted excitedly.
“Let’s show these idiots who underestimate us what we’re really capable of. Teach them a proper lesson.”
The other employees were equally eager.
Everyone knew that combat missions under Davey came with extra rewards. On top of that, they could loot spoils for themselves—only the horses had to be handed in. With a bit of luck, a single mission could bring in dozens or even hundreds of dollars.
Land Security Company also provided comprehensive post-battle benefits. If injured during a mission, all medical expenses were covered. If someone could no longer participate in combat afterward, they would be reassigned to another position instead of losing their job.
If someone died, their family would receive six months’ salary as compensation. Their wife would be given priority for employment, and their children would be supported by the company until adulthood, with priority job placement afterward.
Such a system was unmatched in the current West, or even across the entire United States.
Given that, what did a little illegal moonshine business matter? Wasn’t it all for the sake of the company’s growth?
Among the wealthy elites of the United States, who didn’t have some gray income?
In the end, dollars were what mattered most.
Of course, to enjoy these benefits, the first priority was ensuring the boss’s business didn’t collapse—and that the boss himself remained safe.
Martelli rode forward on horseback without the slightest hint of nervousness.
In his eyes, leading eighty gunmen meant he could flatten not just a small gang, but even the Rhodes Town police station if he wanted.
Both Bronte and Martelli regarded Davey’s operation as nothing more than a small gang. Their intelligence said Davey had fewer than two hundred men. What else could that be? And here in Rhodes Town, there were only around forty.
Martelli never once considered the possibility of failure.
Eighty against forty—double the manpower, launching an attack. The advantage was clearly his.
Yet just as Martelli was basking in fantasies of slaughter, explosions erupted the moment they crossed the bridge.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
The thunderous blasts drowned out every other sound. Startled horses panicked and lost control, throwing their riders before bolting in all directions.
For a moment, everyone felt completely deaf, unable to hear anything at all.
Martelli was dragged violently out of his fantasy and back into reality.
Right in front of him, one of his men was struck by a bullet from nowhere, the round piercing straight through his skull. Blood sprayed everywhere, and the man collapsed without a sound.
Looking around, Martelli saw men dropping one after another. Bullets came from all directions, catching them entirely off guard.
After a while, his hearing gradually returned, replaced by the deafening crack of gunfire.
Following the sound, he saw enemies hidden in the grass, behind rocks, and up on the cliffs.
They were completely surrounded.
“Surrender! We surrender!!!”
Martelli didn’t hesitate for even a second. He threw down his weapon, dropped to his knees, raised both hands, and shouted at the top of his lungs.
His subordinates immediately followed suit, all kneeling with their hands raised.
From the first explosion to the end, the entire battle lasted less than fifteen minutes. Martelli’s side hadn’t managed a single effective counterattack.
This was where the difference between city gangsters and hardened outlaws who survived outside the cities became painfully clear.
And on top of that, these outlaws were led by a German whose family had served in the military for generations—someone with exceptional professional military training.
Martelli felt utterly wronged.
In Saint Denis gang fights, who used explosives? Everyone relied on revolvers. Rifles were rare, and snipers were almost unheard of.
But just now, it felt like he had experienced a real war, not a simple skirmish.
“Alright, gentlemen, the fighting is over,” Emin shouted loudly once he saw them surrender.
“Now throw away your weapons and walk over to the other side, far enough away from them.”
“If you cooperate, we’ll arrange doctors to treat your injuries and make sure you stay alive.”
“And take off your shirts so I can see that your holsters are empty. Otherwise, our men will get nervous.”
“Now, immediately, follow my instructions. If you don’t, I can’t guarantee your safety.”
Martelli’s men complied without the slightest resistance, terrified that any wrong move would get them killed. Many of them stripped completely, just to prove they posed no threat.
When faced with death, dignity was meaningless.
“Fuck, these guys are really useless,” Mac cursed.
He hadn’t even had his fill yet. With his sniper rifle, he’d killed fewer than ten people before the enemy surrendered.
On Martelli’s side, about forty men were still able to move. Some unlucky ones who’d been shot in the legs were crawling as they stripped, afraid they’d be killed if they moved too slowly.
They had no morale left at all. City gang fights were never this brutal, and terror was written all over their faces.
If Davey’s Maxim machine gun hadn’t been shipped to Valentine, this battle would have been even bloodier.
Author's Note
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