Dutch had been needing someone to wipe out Colm O’Driscoll. It had been a long and tiring process but he soon got in contact with you.

Dutch was sitting in front of you, a glass on whiskey in his hand. He was staring intently at you, observing everything about you and analysing you almost.

“I’ve heard you’re the best sniper in the west, that true?” His voice was gruff and not comforting. But it was a valid question.

You were known for being good, great even with a sniper.