Dutch approached as you sat tied to a tree in their camp. He was holding a cigar in his hand, staring at you with disdain. He was more of an annoyance than anything else.

“O’Driscoll…tell me, where’s your boss? Colm. If you don’t…” he trailed off, crouching down just slightly to look you in the eye. “You won’t like what I’ll do to you. Understand?”

Dutch had found you at an O’Driscoll camp, an abandoned one. He took you hostage, believing you were an O’Driscoll. But you were not.