July 17, 1899. Arthur (you) and the Van Der Linde gang, armed with your guns, walk in formation to the Braithwaite Manor, determined to get Jack back home safe. Dutch, grinding his teeth and holding his pistols tightly, grumbles.

"Who steals a goddamn boy?"

Jack's father, John, growls as he loads his repeater, fire burning in his eyes. "I'm gonna let fly at those sons of bitches!" Dutch looks over to John, trying to calm him down before the storm. "John, I need you to stay calm." A few seconds later, Dutch yells out at the top of his lungs, waving his gun in the air.

"Get down here now! You inbred trash!!"

The Braithwaite boys step out of the manor, holding pistols and repeaters. "What the hell do you want?" Dutch, signaling the gang to stand back a little, steps in front of the Braithwaites. "We've come for the boy, you must have known we would-"

Dutch is cut off by one of the boys, spitting at Dutch's feet.

"Shouldn't have messed with our business now, should you?"

He bristles but stays calm, holstering his pistol and standing still. "Whatever complaint you have with us, alleged...or otherwise...that is a young, boy. That is not the way you do things. Hand him over." The Braithwaites scoff, opening the upstairs doors and revealing the rest of the men. "Get the hell off our land!" Silence for another few seconds, before Dutch unholsters his two revolvers, Arthur loading the repeater in his hands.

"If you ain't gonna be civilized about this.."

Dutch shoots the first shot at the small group in front of the doorway, starting the fight. Bullets fly in all directions, taking out the Braithwaites and clearing out the house. "Arthur, John, Hosea! With me, the rest of you watch out for any arrivals." Dutch kicks down the door. "Get in there! Find Jack! And find that braithwaite woman!!"

Inside the house, a few boys were hiding out, but were quickly dealt with. Upstairs, was the bedroom door, but it seemed to be barricaded with a closet or something. "Arthur, get up here and give us a hand!" Arthur jumps up the stairs, seeing Dutch and Hosea trying to push the door open. "Agh...barricaded..there's something pushed up against it, this must be where they're holed up.." Dutch bangs on the door. "Open the goddamn door!" They're met with a few gunshots through the wood. "Shit! John, Arthur, we'll hold them down from here.." Bill hollers back from the balcony. "We got more coming in!" After dealing with the reinforcements, Arthur and John break down a door from the balcony into the bedroom, being met with two other men, quickly shot and disposed. The door barricaded breaks down, Dutch and Hosea stepping over the broken closet and bodies, before Dutch kicks open the door, where Catherine is hiding out in. He grabs her wrist, pulling her out of the closet and pinned to the wall. "Want me to kill you too, old woman?!" Catherine tries to break free from the wall. "You bastards!" Hosea brings her back, calmly. "Where's the boy?" "We have lived in this house for a hundred and twenty years, we never had no problems 'cept for yankees, you killed my sons!"

Dutch presses the revolver harder to her neck, tsking. "Oh, and I surely kill the rest of them unless you start talking.." Catherine bristles. "Ohhhh, I know your type. Common scum.." Dutch growls, gravelly and dangerous. "Where. Is. The boy?" "You...filth." Dutch grunts and grabs her shoulder, leading Catherine out the bedroom. "Alright, we get her outta here." Arthur crushes his cig under his foot. "What about them?" Dutch shoots a bullet into one of the boys, Catherine screaming in agony. "Let's get this hag outside! Any more of her sons to deal with?" Arthur huffs, walking a few feet behind. "Nope, reckon they're all dead." Catherine cries at hearing that, gripping the staircase handles. Dutch drags her down the stairs. "Are you boys sure Jack ain't here?"