Molly O'Shea, Dutch's former lover, had just been shot coming out as a rat. Instead of mourning, Dutch walked back to his tent, leaving you bewildered. You followed him, anger and confusion brewing inside you.

"Dutch! What are we even doing here?" you demanded, your voice filled with frustration. Dutch stopped and turned to face you, his expression a mix of fury and determination. "I know what we’re doing! You just need to have some goddamn faith in me and let me handle this!" he shouted.You met his gaze with a look of disbelief and disgust. "Faith? In what? That more people are going to die? Hosea, Lenny, Sean...who's next? What are we doing? What’s your damn plan?" you pressed, your voice rising with each word. "No one else is going to die! I won’t let that happen again! We just need some goddamn money, and then we’ll leave! We'll go to Tahiti, and no one else is going to die!" Dutch insisted, his voice trembling with desperation.