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Chapter Text

Arthur Morgan looked out from the top of Mount Shann. He gazed across the horizon, looking at Flat Iron lake in the distance, so still and peaceful. The sky a serene blue, with just a few white cotton clouds. Lately everything looked much more alive, and vibrant. He began to see things, things that he'd always taken for granted before. Just like the beautiful view, he was seeing now.

To say he was worried, was an understatement. He couldn't understand how things could have gone so horribly wrong. How was it all going to end. Well for him, he knew how it was going to end, and soon. He coughed hard, and spat out the contents of his mouth on the ground. Blood...that was happening more and more, just lately.

Arthur thought that maybe he should head back. He had been avoiding Dutch, ever since he, and Sadie had rescued John from the prison. He'd known that Dutch would be annoyed, but he didn't realise he would be quite so angry.

Arthur sighed, and pushed his horse into a walk, he would have to take it easy down the narrow path, or things might end sooner for him, and his horse. Plummeting to their death, off the side of a mountain, was the last thing he needed. Although, he thought, it might be quicker, than the slow lingering death of Tuberculosis.

He hadn't always been a good person. But he really didn't think he deserved this. Still, maybe all the help he had been giving complete strangers recently, should count for something. Maybe just give him a bit longer, to sort things out. Arthur opened his satchel, and saw the letter from Francis Sinclair.

He'd found all his rock carvings. His letter sounded a bit crazy, the man certainly did, the last time he spoke to him. But he wasn't that far from the cabin. So what the heck. He'd visit Francis and then head over to Annisburg, to meet up with Dutch and Micah. He wondered what plan Dutch was hatching, this time.

Arthur made it to the cabin in about an hour. He knocked on the door several times, but got no answer, so he slowly opened the door. The house was empty, but on the wall was a weird drawing, with pictures of Francis, and the different rock carvings drawn on it.

Arthur quickly opened his journal, and drew the images on a blank page.

He glanced around the room, and saw a gold pocket watch. Well, he thought, all the running around he'd done he deserved something. He didn't feel that it was stealing, more like a gift!

Arthur dropped the pocket watch into his satchel.

He didn't notice the strange blue light that shone from the pages he had just drawn, or the blue glow that came from the pocket watch.

Arthur heard a noise behind him, and a woman walked in.

He turned around, "Mrs Sinclair? I'm looking for your husband" He said.

"He's dead," she replied. "He died about a year ago."

Arthur was confused, "Your husband Francis is dead?" He asked.

"No," she replied, "this is Francis," she looked down, at the baby, "Tom was my husband".

Arthur looked at the child, it had a birth mark on its face, identical to the one, he had seen on the man he had met, a few months before.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," he said, "I'm a bit confused". With that Arthur left the Cabin.

I'm more than a bit confused he thought. Still, it wasn't all for nought, he had a pocket watch, which he could probably sell for a few dollars.

Arthur mounted his horse. He would have to put this little incident to the back of his mind, and head over to Annisburg. He thought it best not to be too late, considering how annoyed Dutch was with him.

The watch, and the pages in his journal, continued to glow, now a little more brightly.

As Arthur made his way to Annisburg, clouds started to gather, and the sky became ominously darker. In the distance he could see lightening. He thought it strange that the storm had come on so quickly. Stranger still, that all the sky had turned dark with clouds, and yet, there was no rain.

Arthur found Micah and Dutch near one of the miners cabins. As he walked across to join them, he started to cough, not what he wanted, as he knew that Micah would have some smart arsed comment. He didn't have time to worry about that, as a crack of lighting his the cliff above the cabins. As he joined the others Micah looked at him "You don't look so good?"

"I'm fine" he said "couldn't this have waited, why we have to do this in this damn storm, I'll never know".

Dutch looked at Arthur, "We need to head down to the river, I'll fill you in on the way"

Arthur looked at him "What, in this!" He said.

Before Dutch had a chance to respond a strike of lightening hit the ground just where the 3 men were standing.

The watch and the journal glowed bright blue and an arc of blue light met the lightening flash, knocking all three men to the ground.

For the three men, the world suddenly went black.

Chapter Text

Arthur opened his eyes, then quickly closed them again. It was bright, too bright. The light hurt his eyes.

That wasn't all that hurt. He sqinted, trying to open his eyes gradually this time, to allow his eyes to get used the brightness. It was then, he heard the beeping. It had been there before, but he only realised it, now that he was fully awake. He fully opened his eyes, wincing at the pain in the back of his eyes. He looked to where the noise was coming from. A box, with numbers on. Not written, but in lights. The numbers seemed to be changing randomly. What the hell was this place. He looked down at his arm. A needle, connected to a tube. It didn't exactly hurt, but was uncomfortable.

He glanced down, what the hell did he have on, where were his clothes, and what was that attached to his chest.

Arthur reached inside the garment, he was wearing and pulled the tapes, attached to wires. The box at the side of the bed, stopped beeping, and let out one single monotone beep.

He was about to get out of the bed, and throw the box across the room, to make it shutup, when the door of the room crashed open. Two people appeared in the door way. He wasn't quite sure how to describe what they were wearing. He'd never seen anyone dressed, quite like that before.

"Mr Morgan, what do you think you're doing" The woman scolded him, a stern look on her face.

The man who had also entered the room, took one look at Arthur Morgan, rolled his eyes, and left the room. She quickly turned off the heart monitor, and wheeled it to the other side of the room.

Arthur looked at the woman, then quickly averted his eyes. Her legs were completely uncovered, well, her top reached just above her knees, and she was wearing shoes. Even the whores in St. Denis, wore more than that.

"Who the hell are you, and where are my clothes." Arthur demanded, "and where the hell am I."

The woman smiled. "My name is Nurse Richards. Your clothes are in that cupboard." She pointed to a small cupboard, next to the bed. "Your in hospital, Mr Morgan. You've been seriously ill."

Arthur sighed, " I know, I'm dying," he paused, "How long have I been here, I was with two other people, d'ya know if they're ok?"

Nurse Richards laughed, "I think thats a bit dramatic, Mr Morgan. You're not dying, you've had a knock to the head, and we're treating your Tuberculosis, with antibiotics. But it seems like you're feeling a lot better."

Arthur looked at the needle in his arm, and reached over with his hand. It was beginning to annoy him, so it was coming out.

"No, leave that alone," the nurse scolded him, as she place her hand, onto his. Firmly moving his hand away from the needle.

Arthur looked at her face, her brown eyes, staring at him.

She quickly averted her eyes, from his blue eyes, as beautiful as they were, she was a professional.

"You need to leave it in for a little longer." She tapped the tube, which fed the needle. "That's the antibiotics, we can remove it in a little while."

Nurse Richards, headed towards the door. "Your friends are outside, they can come in and see you for a little while."

A few minutes later, Dutch walked through the door, followed by Micah.

"Are you ok, son?" Dutch asked, looking concerned.

"Better than I was, before we ended up here." Arthur sighed, "If I knew where here was!"

Dutch sat on the edge of the bed, "You better brace yourself, son. Because you ain't gonna believe this!"

Arthur, raised and eyebrow, "try me?" he said, not sure that anything would surprise him today.

Micah, who had been leaning up against the wall, pulled a rolled up newspaper, from under his arm, and chucked it on the bed.

"Look at the date, cowpoke" he snarled.

Dutch glared at Micah, whilst Arthur glanced at the newspaper.

The newspaper read '16th March 2019, Pittsburgh Gazette.'

"What the hell is goin' on, and where the hell is Pittsburgh!" Arthur exclaimed.

Dutch sighed, I have no Idea, but when we got struck by that lightening in Annesburg, something weird happened."

"We was hoping you might have some idea, cowpoke," Micah said, looking decidedly bored with the whole thing.

Arthur sat there for a moment, then a realisation hit him.

"Ahhh shit," he said, sourly. "I've an idea, on how we might have got here, but I ain't got no Idea, on how we get back!"

Chapter Text

Micah glared at Arthur, who was still lying on the hospital bed.

"What do you mean, Cowpoke. What did you do?" he yelled, Angrily.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I didn't do nothin'," he sighed, "It weren't my fault, it was only a pocket watch, least ways, that's what I thought."

Micah strode over to the bed, and leaned menacingly over Arthur.

"What the fuck are you talking about, or are you still tapped in the head," he said, as he poked Arthur's temple, with his forefinger.

Dutch walked over and grabbed hold of Micah's shoulder, pulling him away.

"Cut it out, you two. It don't much matter. We were planning on getting away, and now we have."

Micah spun round, so his was face to face with Dutch.

"Escaping to another country, is one thing." He snarled, "Blacklung here, has managed to escape us to another time, and he don't know how to get us back!"

Dutch glared at Micah, and was about to open his mouth, when the door to the room swung open.

Both men, quickly turned to face the door. Their situation was, precarious as it was, without drawing any unnecessary attention to themselves.

The nurse, who had been tending to Arthur, strode in.

Micah stared at the nurse, more specifically at her legs. It was taking some getting used to, seeing the way women dressed, but not in a bad way he thought.

Nurse Richards, look across at Dutch and Micah.

"If you gentlemen would like to wait outside. I need to see to Mr Morgan, and get him ready to be discharged."

The two men glanced at each other, and walked towards the door.

Once they had left the nurse, headed towards Arthur's side.

Nurse Richards, smiled at Arthur.

"Let me disconnect this drip, and then you can get dressed and be on your way. You'll need to collect your prescription from the front desk. Do you have health insurance?" She asked.

Arthur blinked, still a bit dazed, from the information he had just been given, from Dutch, and Micah.

"Err...insurance? Err..no, I don't," he muttered.

"Don't worry, Mr Morgan. We have emergencies come in all the time with no insurance. Lets get you discharged, and then you can go with your friends."

Arthur rolled his eyes. Friends, he thought. Of all the people he would choose to be with, right now, Micah and Dutch, weren't top of his list.

The nurse finished removing the needle, from Arthur's arm, and helped him out of the bed.

Arthur, slowly stood up. His legs, were shaky, but he managed to hide that from the nurse. He didn't want to stay here for a moment longer than he had to.

"I'll leave you to get dressed," she said.

She glanced behind her as she left the room. The hospital gown, barely covered, Arthur's muscular body. She hid a smile, sometimes she loved her job.

Arthur opened the cupboard, and found his clothes neatly folded. Also his satchel.

Once he was dressed, he looked in the satchel, and looked at Francis Sinclair's pocket watch. Could this really have caused them to be catapulted in time. He opened his journal, to the last page where he had drawn, Francis's symbols. The page was blackened. The drawing he made, had all but been destroyed. One thing he knew now, there would be no going back, unless he could find and redraw the rock carvings.

Arthur put on his hat, and walked out the hospital room. He headed, for the front desk, as the nurse had told him. Before he had a chance to reach the desk, Dutch was at his side, and had pulled his hat, from his head.

"Dutch, What you doin'?" he said, trying to grab his hat back.

"Lose the hat, Arthur." Dutch said, quietly, "we need to try and blend in, they don't seem to wear hats around here much."

Arthur, grabbed his hat, dropped it, on a chair, and wandered over to the front desk.

"Arthur Morgan, I have to pick up a prescription?" He said.

The receptionist smiled, and handed him a small box. "Take one of these, 3 times a day, for the next week. Don't worry about the bill, Mr Morgan. Its all been taken care of."

Arthur frowned, "Who by? Who paid the Bill?" he asked, a little confused.

The receptionist, smiled again. "The gentlemen over their," she said, pointing at Dutch.

Arthur looked at Dutch, and frowned, a confused look on his face.

Dutch, just raised an eyebrow, and smiled.

Dutch put a hand on Arthur's shoulder, as they walked towards the exit. "Don't worry, son. I'll explain everything, when we get back to the hotel."

"Hotel!, how can we afford a hotel? How you afford to pay a hospital bill?"

Just as they reached the door, Dutch grabbed Arthur, by the other shoulder, so that they were face to face.

"Listen Arthur, Its a whole different world out there, I don't want you to panic. Your gonna see lots of things that you ain't ever seen before." he said gently. "Oh, and Arthur, we really don't have to worry about money. I'll explain everything. But this, what's happened to us, I have a really good feeling about this, we're gonna be fine."

Arthur, stared at Dutch. Now where had he heard that before!

Chapter Text

Arthur walked out of the entrance of the hospital. The first thing that hit him was the smell. God damn, what was that smell, acrid fumes, worse than the factories of St. Denis.

Arthur quickly covered his mouth and nose, with his hands.

It was then he noticed, the carriages, horseless carriages.

He remembered Alden, at Rhodes. Telling him and Josiah, about the impending horseless carriages.

Both him and Josiah had laughed. He missed Josiah, he wondered what he would have made of this.

Dutch looked at Arthur, and laughed, "don't worry son, you'll get used to the smell."

Arthur grimaced, and dropped his hand, "what is that smell?"

Dutch pointed at one of the vehicles, "Its what makes them move, they're called cars, that's where the smell comes from."

Arthur shrugged, and shook his head, "and that's progress?"

Dutch laughed again, "that ain't nothing, son. There's a thing called electricity, and it makes light, and loads of other stuff."

Arthur and Dutch, carried on walking. Arthur glanced around, "where's Micah?"

Dutch groaned. "He's off somewhere, he loves it, especially the women."

Arthur laughed, for the first time, "Sounds about right for Micah, there ain't much to the clothes they wear."

Dutch laughed. It was good to see Dutch laughing, Arthur thought. He was beginning to see, slight vestiges, of the old Dutch.

Maybe it was the second bang to the head, had brought him back. Arthur didn't really know.

Apart from getting used this new time, he thought that maybe what had happened, may have been a good thing. Certainly good for him, as it seemed he wasn't dying any more.

Arthur, looked around a bit more, the buildings were like towers of concrete. Windows didn't look like windows, you couldn't see in them, they just reflected more of the concrete buildings. The cars, there were so many, and they were so noisy, and smelly. Arthur was struggling to take it all in. He wanted to take a deep breath, but didn't, because he couldn't bear the thought, of all the fumes, being breathed in.

Dutch looked at Arthur, "don't worry, son. You'll get used to it after a while."

Dutch waved his arm, towards where all the cars were, and a yellow car stopped.

"The yellow ones, are called cabs," he said, smiling at Arthur. He opened the door.

"Get in." He said.

Once Arthur was inside, he got in too, and closed the door.

"Where to?" the driver, asked grumpily.

"Liberty Place, The Wyndham Grand" Dutch replied.

The driver nodded, and the car took off, faster than Arthur was expecting, which caused him to be thrown back in the seat.

The driver, glanced in the rear-view mirror. "Sorry guvnor."

Arthur half smiled, and looked at Dutch. "wasn't expecting that!"

Dutch smiled, "like I said, Arthur, you'll get used to it."

After a ten minute ride, which included lots of stops and starts, they arrived at their destination.

Dutch handed the driver, twenty dollars, and they got out the car.

Arthur looked at Dutch, and raised his eyebrows.

"Twenty dollars, for a little ride!" he exclaimed. "you could get a train, from St. Denis to Valentine, for half that amount."

Dutch shook his head, "Time to stop comparing, what we used to do, and what we're gonna be doing now. I know its hard, Arthur. But this place, it ain't nothing like what we're used to."

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Ain't that the truth," he said as he looked around.

He looked at the building in front of them, all concrete and glass. Although, he smiled again, as he saw a little bit of greenery to the left of the building, a park or something.

"How long we gonna stay here, Dutch. Surely there most still be some places, with grass, trees and a bit of fresh air?"

"A little patience, son. C'mon lets go inside. There's lots to tell you."

Arthur followed Dutch, into the building. Marble floors, and very sparsely decorated. Almost austere, it seemed, to Arthur.

Arthur wondered, how Dutch had become so used to this, in such a small amount of time.

He continued, following Dutch as he walked towards, what appeared to Arthur, a metal door.

Arthur looked for a handle, but couldn't see one.

Dutch pressed a button, which immediately lit up. Illuminating an upward arrow.

Arthur frowned. Dutch looked at Arthur with an amused look on his face, as he shook his head.

"Its progress, my boy." He said, this was nearly as bad, as when he taught Arthur to read!

The doors slid open, and Arthur looked at the small windowless room.

Dutch walked in, "It's called an Elevator, Arthur. Get in." He sighed, a little bit exasperated.

Arthur entered, and saw more buttons lining the inside.

Dutch pressed the button marked, 5, as the doors closed.

Arthur looked around, slightly panicked. As the room appeared to move, in a vertical direction.

When the doors, slid open, Arthur was somewhat relieved, and left the small box, as soon as he could.

"So what just happened, Dutch? What was that...thing? Elevator?" he asked, curiously.

"It takes you up floors, instead of using stairs. Some of these buildings have loads of levels, you wouldn't want to be walking up loads of steps, if you don't have too." Dutch replied.

Arthur nodded, it kind of made sense. Must be something to do with this 'lectricity, Dutch had spoken of.

Arthur followed Dutch, until they reached a door, it had a number on the front, 512.

Dutch unlocked the door, and Arthur followed him in.

He looked around, he was quietly impressed. This room, was the plushest, he had ever seen. Certainly better than the hospital, and the Camp they had left behind.

Arthur thought for a minute, if a ride in a Cab, cost Twenty dollars, how the hell could they afford this.

Dutch laughed, "I know what your thinking Arthur, how did I get the money to pay for this? Well whilst you were getting cured, I found out a few things."

Dutch pulled a coin from his pocket, and handed it to Arthur.

"Tell me what you see, son." he said, smiling.

Arthur looked at the coin, flipped it over and then back again. "Its a silver dollar," he said.

"Look at the date, Arthur?" Dutch couldn't help smiling.

Arthur took a closer look "1899" he said. He looked at Dutch, frowning. What was the point of this.

"Arthur, that coin, is worth roughly Three hundred dollars. Its an antique coin. Well, it is now!" he said, chuckling to himself. "Money, for us, son. That ain't gonna be a problem."

Arthur smiled. "So any money, we had with us. It's like, worth loads more?"

Dutch nodded, finally Arthur was beginning to see the bigger picture. "It'll keep us going, for a while. Until we decide what to do next. But we also need to get some identification, I've hit a few snags, trying to do things. They ain't to keen on takin' your word for who you are, round these parts."

Arthur scratched his head, "So how we gonna do that, they might get suspicious, if you give them your date of birth," he sniggered, thinking how it would look if they thought he was 150 odd years old.

Dutch smiled. "Its all about contacts, these days. I guess some things don't change. Anyway, I've found someone, who can help us. Once we get that sorted, we can move on. I don't like this place, any more than you do. But Dutch Van Der Linde, Micah Bell and Arthur Morgan. They're all about to be reinvented for this century."

"What about Micah?" Arthur asked, "he don't seem to keen on staying here." He rolled his eyes, "like he has a choice. Any chance of us getting back is long gone!"

Dutch stood up and walked to the window. "I have no intention of trying to go back, Arthur. You're the only one, who knows how we got here. If you say we can't go back, that's fine with me. Micah, well, he'll just have to get used to it!"

Arthur stood up, and walked over to the window. The view, was actually quite breathtaking. It reminded him, of being in the hot air balloon, only warmer.

"So what do we do next?" he asked. It seemed like Dutch, had everything planned. So he guessed he would go back to following his lead.

Dutch patted Arthur on the shoulder. "First, Son. Get yourself a bath," he pointed to another door in the room, Then we'll go and get something to eat. You're gonna love that. It's a damn site better, than old Pearson's stews, I can tell ya."

Arthur headed towards the door, the room was tiled, and there was a bath, all white porcelain, not tin, like he was used to.

He glanced back at Dutch, who was still looking out the window. "What about Micah?" he asked, not sure what he would be getting up to.

"Don't worry about Micah, Arthur. We'll catch up with him later, after he's had his fill of the ladies!" Dutch replied, sniggering.

Arthur soon figured out, how to get the water into the bath. This century wasn't that bad, he decided, as he stepped into the steaming tub.

Arthure relaxed, for the first time in ages. Knowing that his future, whilst still uncertain, didn't involve dying, either by a hangman's noose, or a fatal disease.

Chapter Text

Arthur walked, back into the bedroom. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a bath. He couldn't quite get his head around the fact, that you didn't have to pay extra for a bath. He did kinda miss, not having a woman, to scrub his back, even if it did cost a little extra.

"You took your time, C'mon, I'll show you around a bit, and get you something to eat. You're looking thin, boy." Dutch commented, as Arthur exited the bathroom.

"Well I ain't had a bath, for one hundred and twenty years," he chuckled, "besides, you'd be thin, if you hadn't eaten, for five days!" he added.

The two men, headed out of the hotel room, and towards the elevator.

As they walked along the corridor, the elevator doors opened. Out stepped Micah, with two woman, one on each arm.

Arthur, stared, wide eyed, at the two women. They were gorgeous. Micah, had his arms around their waist's, hands placed, on their bottoms. Arthur was, to say the least, a little surprised. One, that two such lovely women, could be attracted to Micah. Secondly, that they hadn't slapped him around the face, for where his hands were.

Dutch scowled. "Mr Bell, ain't it a bit early in the day for that?"

Micah, laughed, dirtily, "ain't never too early, in my book!"

Dutch rolled his eyes. "Me and Arthur, are going to sort out some business. We'll meet you back here when we're done. Make sure they're gone, by the time we get back." Dutch said, sighing in exasperation.

Micah, disappeared into the hotel room, as Dutch and Arthur entered the elevator.

"I'm guessing this is normal...for Micah now?" Arthur asked.

Dutch sighed. "Most days, I was hoping the novelty, would wear off."

On leaving the hotel, Dutch, looked around.

"We may as well walk. Its not far."

Arthur looked around. There was a park close by, but Dutch was walking further into the city, away from the only bit of greenery, that he had seen so far.

After a couple of blocks, they reached some sort of square. It was still concrete, but a bit more open. There were also some trees, which looked like they had been planted in concrete. The closest thing to nature, in this concrete jungle.

Dutch pointed towards a small building, for once, not a high rise concrete building.

"We'll eat in there," he said, smiling, and headed towards the entrance.

For the first time, Arthur could smell something he recognised. At least the food was the same, well relatively.

They sat down at a table, and a waitress came over.

Arthur, still struggled to get his head around, why the women, wore such short skirts. He hardly knew where to look.

Dutch, noticed Arthur, still being somewhat embarrassed, when any women came anywhere near.

"Hello Miss," Dutch greeted the waitress, "can we get two steaks, and two beers."

The waitress, scribbled something on her pad, and scurried off, to get their order.

"You can look at them, Arthur," he said, grinning. "The clothes they wear, its normal for them."

Arthur's cheeks, flushed slightly. "I guess." He mumbled.

Arthur glanced around, the restaurant. It was pretty full, and it seemed, that Dutch was right. There were a few woman, wearing jeans, but for the most part, they were wearing skirts or dresses, which finished just above the knee. He'd always, tried to treat women with respect, unlike Micah, whose sole intention, was to get into their knickers. Dutch, could also be described, as a bit of a ladies man. That's probably why they'd both adjusted so quickly.

"Now Arthur," Dutch said, interrupting Arthur's thoughts, "you wanna tell me, how we ended up here?"

Arthur sighed, and reached into his satchel for Francis Sinclair's pocket watch. He placed it on the table.

"This, I think, is what brought us here. Also, some rock carvings, or pictures of rock carvings." Arthur, paused. Then continued. "I met Francis Sinclair, just after we got off the mountain. He asked me to find the locations of the rock carvings."

Arthur paused, as the waitress bought the food. He quickly slipped the pocket watch, back into his satchel.

Once the waitress had left, he took a bite of his steak, and drank some of his beer. One thing, he could appreciate, was good food.

Dutch looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

"So I found all the rock carvings, sent him details of their location. He sent me a letter, asking me to visit him, as he was going travelling soon."

Dutch frowned, "Travelling?" he queried.

"Anyway," Arthur continued, his mouth half full of steak, "When I go there, there was a woman with a baby, who she said was Francis. Had a birthmark on his face, same as the one the man I met."

"So you think, the man you met, had travelled in time?" Dutch asked, staring.

"Its the only thing I can think, maybe this pocket watch, is some sort of device. Anyway, I drew the pictures of the rock carvings, in my journal, seems like when the watch came into contact with them, it brought us here." Arthur pulled out the journal, and opened the page, where the drawings had been. The charred remains of the page, were all that remained.

"Without the pictures of the rock carvings, and knowing how the watch works, looks like we're a bit stuck." Arthur said, as he closed the journal, and put it back in his satchel.

Dutch started to eat, but the look on his face, told Arthur he was thinking.

Dutch lowered his voice. "Look Arthur, I don't know about you, but I'm in know hurry to go back. We can reinvent ourselves here. The thing is, if we need more of the antique money, we can probably try and find Blackwater, and dig it up."

Arthur nodded. "You think it'll still be there. What about the others, what do ya think happened to them. They would have just thought, we disappeared?"

Dutch scratched his chin, "I don't know, Arthur. But we have to move on, get ourselves established here."

Arthur frowned, a little concerned that Dutch, was ready to forget everyone else, but not entirely surprised.

"How are we gonna do that?" He said, "we have money, but it seems, these days, you need more than that."

"That, my dear boy, is all in hand. The man, whose been buying the coins, has put me in touch with people, that can help us. Once we have our new identities," Dutch outstretched, his hands, "then this world is ours, for the taking."

After paying the bill, Dutch and Arthur, headed back to the hotel. Dutch explained, that all three of them, needed to go to pick up the identity documents, which Dutch's contact had organised.

On entering the hotel room, there was no sign of the two women, that had entered the room earlier, but Micah's clothes, were strewn, all over the bedroom floor.

Dutch shook his head, he hadn't realised, how much of a slob, Micah Bell was, until now.

"Micah!" Dutch yelled.

Micah walked out of the bathroom, with a towel wrapped around his middle.

"Just cleaning up," he said, sighing.

Dutch pointed at the clothes, strewn all over the floor.

"You call this cleaning up?" he said, glaring at Micah.

Micah rolled his eyes, "Dutch, you really need to loosen up, this is the twenty first century." He picked the clothes up off the floor, and headed back towards the bathroom.

"Just hurry up," Dutch replied, clearly annoyed. "We need to go and collect our id's, sooner rather than later."

Arthur, and Micah, followed Dutch out of the hotel. He had made all the arrangements, whilst Arthur was in the hospital, and Micah had been sampling the delights of 21st century women.

Dutch didn't mind, that he'd been left to pickup the pieces, well at least as far as Arthur was concerned. But Micah, that was a different story. The last few months, he'd relied on him a lot. He was beginning to wonder, if that had been a mistake. Especially seeing his current behaviour.

He also felt bad about Arthur. He knew, he hadn't been particularly well, But he hadn't realised, just how sick he was. That was the most positive thing, to come out of this. Arthur would be with him. He'd always had his back, now Dutch could try and return the favour.

As they approached the roadside, Dutch hailed a cab, which pulled over.

Once they were inside, he handed the cab driver a piece of paper.

The cabby accelerated away, this time Arthur was ready for the jolt. He gave Dutch a knowing look. Dutch responded, with a smile.

Micah, rolled his eyes. Wondering what the secret exchanges were all about. As much as he liked this century, he was concerned. The wedge that he had driven, between Dutch and Arthur, seemed to be narrowing. He couldn't see anyway of changing that, not in this timeline. As much as he was enjoying himself, he really didn't want to be here. One way or another, he was determined to get them back to where they should be.

The cab driver pulled up at the kerb. The difference in the neighbourhood they had left, to this one, was huge. There were no high rise towers here, and most of the windows in the buildings were boarded up. There were a few women, hanging about on street corners.

Arthur peered out the cab window. "Now this feels more like St. Denis" he said, glancing around."

Dutch tapped the cab driver, on the shoulder, "wait here, we'll be about ten minutes"

The cab driver, laughed sarcastically, "you gotta be joking mister. I'm not hanging about in this neighbourhood."

Dutch sighed. "Ok, then come back in fifteen minutes. I'll make it worth your while?" He handed him the fare.

The cab driver, took the money, and nodded. "You better be here, I'm not hanging around."

The three men, got out of the cab. Dutch, again led the way. Several of the locals, eyed the three men, suspiciously, but made no move, to challenge them.

Dutch turned into an alley, and kept walking until he came to a black iron door. He banged on the door, twice, with his fist.

After a few moments, the door opened a crack.

"Dutch Van Der Linde, we're expected," he said.

The man behind the door, opened it, and beckoned them in. He was short, and older than Dutch had expected. His thinning hair, tried to hide his baldness, by being combed over his head. His eyes, hidden by wire rimmed, glasses. The lenses so thick, that without them he would be virtually blind.

Once inside the man quickly closed the door. "This way, I need a couple of photographs, of each of you."

The three men, took it in turns to sit on a wooden chair, which was placed in front of a plain wall. The only wall that was painted, the rest of the building inside was plain brick.

After he had taken the photographs, he looked at Dutch. "Wait here." He demanded, before he scuttled off to another room and closed the door.

Arthur frowned. "Where the hell did you find him. Are you sure he knows what he's doing?"

Dutch looked towards the room, where the man had gone. "I've been told he's the best."

Micah yawned. "He better be, I can think of better ways to spend my time, than being in a damp warehouse!"

Dutch glared at Micah, "I'm sure you can, but some of us, have been working, instead of trying to fuck every women they come across."

Micah, rolled his eyes, "well maybe, instead of making ourselves at home, we should be trying to get back to where we came from," he growled.

Any further conversation was cut short, as the bespectacled man, emerged from the back room.

"Here," he said, passing a folder to Dutch, "Birth Certificates, Social Security Cards, Drivers licence and Passport."

Dutch opened the folder, and examined the documents. He nodded at the man.

"Very impressive. I was told you wouldn't disappoint."

The man nodded in recognition. "Its all paid for, if you need anything else, speak to our mutual friend."

The man, headed for the door, opening it a crack, to ensure the coast was clear, before opening it fully, to allow the three men to leave.

Once they were out in the Alley, Dutch looked towards the main road. The cab driver, as agreed, had pulled up. The three men, headed towards the cab and got in.

The cab driver, didn't hesitate, in pulling away as fast as he could. This was not a neighbourhood, where you wanted to hang about.

Dutch opened the folder, and handed out the documents. "Don't lose these, but they should get us what we want, or where we want to go."

Arthur looked at the documents, "You didn't think, that we might be better changing our names?" he asked.

Dutch laughed, "Why would we. Nobody knows who we are," he smiled, "unless we've been chased through time." he said quietly, as an afterthought. But quietly enough so the cab driver wouldn't hear.

Chapter Text

On reaching the hotel, the cab driver pulled over.

Dutch paid him, and they all got out the cab.

"Lets go get ourselves a drink, and we can decide what our next move is gonna be," Dutch suggested, smiling.

Micah scowled, "shouldn't we be finding the best way to get back, where we came from," he glared at Arthur.

"Micah, you really need to be a little less single minded," Dutch sighed. "Before it was all about going back to Blackwater, now all you can talk about is going back to where we came from. You're not seeing the bigger picture, the opportunities that await us here."

Micah scoffed, "You go make your plans, in the meantime, I'm gonna go find me a woman."

Micah walked away, leaving both Dutch and Arthur, looking dumbfounded.

Dutch clapped Arthur on the shoulder. "C'mon son," he said. "I can fill you in on what I know, then we can decide what we need to do next."

Arthur nodded, "So what can't we get, without ID?" he asked.

"Well son, it seems that these days..." Dutch's voice trailed off, as he stared, ahead of him.

Walking towards him was a woman. Her long dark brown hair, swept over one shoulder, made her pale complexion, look even paler. Her bright blue eyes, seemed somewhat glazed, as she was deep in thought, whilst conversing with someone, using a device, which Dutch, had found out was called a mobile phone, enabling people to talk to each other, over great distances.

"No daddy," the woman spoke, her soft English accent, turning heads. "It was a dead end, I'll be home as soon as I can."

Dutch blinked and looked at the woman, "Annabelle?"

The woman, walked straight past him, completely ignoring him.

Dutch turned around and called her name again "Annabelle!"

The woman carried on walking, so engrossed in her telephone conversation, that she stepped out into the road, without even looking.

Dutch ran and grabbed the woman by the waist, and pulled her back onto the pavement, and out of the way of a speeding cab.

"Hey," she yelled, "get your filthy hands off of me, you..."

Dutch released his grip, at the same time the cab, sped by, the driving yelling out the window, "Look where you're going, you fucking idiot!"

The woman, spun round, to see the cab, disappear at speed. She sighed, and turned round, to see Dutch standing there, arms raised in mock surrender.

"Annabelle?" he asked.

The woman smiled, her face flushed with embarrassment, "I'm not Annabelle, but I think you may have just saved my life."

The woman, suddenly realised, that she was still in the middle of a telephone conversation.

"Excuse me, one moment," she said, and smiled. "Daddy, yes I'm fine. I'll call you back."

She put her phone in her pocket.

"Sorry," she said, smiling, "that phone will be the death of me."

She held out her hand, "Kaitlyn Jones." She said, and smiled.

Dutch took her hand, and rather than shaking it, gently kissed the top of it, "Dutch Van Der Linde, pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Jones" he said smiling.

"Oh," she pulled her hand, from Dutch's, blushing slightly, "You're quite the gentleman, Mr Van Der Linde. Please let me buy you a coffee, to say thank you."

Dutch smiled, "Only if you agree to call me Dutch."

Arthur, who had been watching the scene unfold, cleared his throat."

"Oh," Dutch said, suddenly remembering Arthur, "This is my friend and associate, Mr Arthur Morgan" He said, introducing Arthur.

Kaitlyn, held out her hand, "Pleased to meet you, Mr Morgan."

Arthur, took Kaitlyn's hand, and shook it. "Please, just call me Arthur." he said, not quite sure, what had just happened.

"Very well," she said, smiling. "But I insist that you both call me Kaitlyn, and I also insist that you let me buy you a coffee."

Kaitlyn lead the way, and they headed back in the direction they had come, and walked into the park, that Arthur had seen before.

"Its the only place in this town, which isn't wall to wall concrete," she said, smiling, "and they also make, great coffee." She said, as she ushered the men, to some tables, as she walked towards the coffee vendor.

"What the hell is going on, Dutch," Arthur whispered, whilst Kaitlyn, was getting the coffee. "She looks just like Annabelle, she even sounds like Annabelle, but she isn't, she can't be."

Dutch looked at Arthur, and shook his head. "I know she can't be, but you can understand why I thought she was."

Arthur nodded, "With everything that's happened, nothin' would surprised me."

Kaitlyn, walked back across with a tray of coffees.

"The only downside," she said, as she put the tray on the table, "is that they come in paper cups. Call me old fashioned, but I do prefer china." she smiled, and sat down.

"So tell me Kaitlyn, what brings an English Rose, to America?" Dutch asked, sipping his coffee.

Kaitlyn, blushed slightly. "I'm working for my father, he's a collector. He had a lead, that he may be able to obtain..." She paused, not wanting to give too much away, "an item, for his collection, but he turned out to be a dead end."

Kaitlyn paused for a moment. There didn't seem to be much point, keeping it a secret, as it was a dead end.

"My father, has an interest in a specific, nineteenth century artist. His work is quite valuable, but it is thought, there may be some undiscovered pieces. We thought there was one located here, but it turned out to be fake."

Dutch nodded, "We deal in antique coins," he said, casting a glance, at Arthur. "not so easy to fake, but art, that's a different story."

Arthur looked across at Kaitlyn, "So who is this artist, that your father likes so much?"

Kaitlyn smiled, no harm in letting them know, they didn't look like they could afford and old master, and she was unsure, if dealers in antique coins, was true either.

"The Artist is Charles Chatenay," she said, "during his lifetime, he was quite misunderstood, and not appreciated."

Arthur almost spat out his coffee. Both Kaitlyn and Dutch, stared at Arthur.

"He would have loved that," Arthur said, grinning.

Kaitlyn, frowned, and Dutch gave Arthur a disapproving look.

"Oh, my great-grandfather, knew Charles," he said quickly. "So how much do his paintings and drawings, sell for these days?" he asked.

Kaitlyn smiled, not really believing that Arthur could have a relation, who knew such a famous artist.

"Oh an undiscovered work, you would be looking at around ten to twelve million dollars." she replied, "If it had provenance, to go with it," she added.

Arthur leaned closer to Kaitlyn, "provenance?" he asked.

"Proof, Arthur. Proof that its and original, and not a fake."

Arthur sat up straight, glanced at Dutch, smiled, and glanced back at Kaitlyn.

"Miss Jones," he said, formally. "I have both," and smiled.

Chapter Text

Kaitlyn, sipped her coffee. "So tell me Arthur, about this undiscovered Chatenay." She said, in a mildly sarcastic tone.

Dutch glared at Arthur, "Yes, Arthur. Do tell."

Arthur shuffled in his seat, slightly uncomfortable, as the two people stared at him, for completely different reasons.

He looked at Kaitlyn. "My Great-Grandfather," he paused, giving Dutch a knowing look, "met Charles Chatenay, in 1899, in a town called St. Denis."

Kaitlyn raised her eyebrows, "Now called, St. Louis. That fits with what we know of him, go on..."

Arthur carried on, remembering fondly, meeting the artist. "He met him in a saloon. He was broke, so he bought him a brandy. They chatted and he gave him a drawing. Later on they met again, and he saved him, from a jealous husband. Charles, was a bit of a ladies man" Arthur laughed.

Kaitlyn nodded, "Everything you've said so far, sounds about right."

Arthur smiled, "He had an exhibition, in St. Denis...I mean St. Louis. Mostly nude pictures, didn't go down to well with the locals. A while after that, my Great-Grandfather, helped him to get on a boat to the south pacific. He told him, if the purpose of life was to be liked, it would be very boring indeed." Arthur laughed, of all the people he had met, Charles was the one, he liked the most.

Kaitlyn smiled, "that's all very well Arthur, but its not really proof."

Arthur chuckled, and reached into his satchel, pulling out a letter. He passed the letter to Kaitlyn. "What about this then, is that proof enough."

Kaitlyn took the letter and started to read it.

Mon Cher Ami,

I made it! I have the sun on my face, sand between my toes, and a beautiful vahine in my bed. The islands are everything I thought they would be... and more! You would not believe the light, and the colors, and the people here. So much brighter and more alive than anything or anyone in . It feels like world away, which of course it is! You may be surprised but you are my only true friend from those dark, dreary days.

You did not ask for anything, you only gave. How perfect, how rare. I detest selfish asses more than civilisation itself. But what is civilisation really but organized selfishness? I must constrain my most primal and vital desires so you may be comfortable. Pah! No merci! This island paradise is what the civilised world would call primitive, but the people here are the most generous (in ways I may not put into words) I have met.

Why is this? Because they are free. I have never painted like I paint now. It is work the likes of which has never been seen. Before I sent this, I shipped some canvasses to New York to be sold. Perhaps, if you own that little scribble, it may be worth something now. Either that or laugh at my ineptitude.

Always yours,

CC

Kaitlyn stared at Arthur, then looked back at the letter.

"It's true then," she said, astonished, as she handed the letter back. "What about the drawing, do you have it, can I see it."

Arthur slipped the letter back into his satchel. Dutch gave Arthur a knowing look. Arthur closed his satchel, with out removing the drawing, which was inside.

"Kaitlyn, my dear. I don't think this is the time or place to be showing rare works of art." He smiled. "We've only just met, how do I know your father, could afford to buy this. We may have greater success on the open market."

Kaitlyn took a deep breath. Trying to keep her composure, how dare this man, cast aspersions over her father.

"I assure you Mr. Van Der Linde, my father can quite easily afford to buy this drawing. He could also afford to outbid, any one else who wanted it. Let me talk to my father, I'm sure he would love to meet you. I have his private jet at my disposal, so we can fly to England, if that fits in with your plans."

Dutch glanced at Arthur, who looked a little confused.

"Arthur hasn't...been in a plane before. But I'm sure that would be satisfactory. We just have to tie up a few loose ends here."

Kaitlyn smiled, and rummaged around in her purse, until she found a business card. She slid it across the table. "Give me a call, when you're ready. I'll call my father and make the arrangements."

Kaitlyn stood up, "It was nice meeting you both." She turned and walked away, smiling to herself. If she could get her hands on this drawing for ten or twelve million, it would be a bargain. The last new drawing, that had sold at Sotherby's had sold for fifteen.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me about the artist?" Dutch asked, clearly annoyed.

Arthur shrugged, "I dunno, I didn't think it was important, how was I to know he was famous now. When I left him at the docks, he was running from money lenders, and jealous husbands. Among other things"

Dutch's expression softened slightly, "We're in a different world now Arthur, this could be just the break we're looking for." Dutch paused for a second, "But we need to get you caught up, with how things work around here now. While you were in the hospital, and Micah was sampling the female delights, I learnt a helluva a lot."

Arthur frowned, "like what?"

Dutch sighed, if Arthur had struggled with understanding cars, and an elevator. How was he going to explain about computers, the internet, mobile phones, credit cards, and planes.

Chapter Text

"Your not serious?" Arthur, looked at Dutch, as though the man had grown an extra head.

Dutch nodded. "The way people buy stuff, ain't the same. Sure if you're gonna buy food, you can use real money. But big stuff. Its all done different. That's why we need an account at the bank."

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Only time I've ever gone into a bank, is to rob it." Arthur sighed, this sure was getting complicated. "Tell me again about this internet thing?" He asked, looking confused.

Dutch sighed. "Its like a giant library, or store. You can buy stuff from it, find out information. You get to it by using a thing called a computer or a phone. Computer is like a mini version of a movie theatre, ya know the ones with the movin' pictures. Then you search for what you want. By typing in a question like on a typewriter, but smaller." Dutch looked at Arthur, hoping he was understanding the concept.

Arthur frowned, but nodded. "And a phone, like what Kaitlyn was talking into, when she nearly got hit by the cab."

Dutch smiled, "Yes, and we need to get one of them, for each of us."

"So what we doing first?" Arthur asked.

Dutch stood up. "First, son. We need to get some new clothes. We need to look a little less like cowboys, or outlaws."

"What about Micah?" Arthur asked.

Dutch rolled his eyes, and sighed, "He don't seemed to have grasped the fact that we ain't livin' in 1899 no more. Apart from the fact that the women seemed to be attracted to him now. Which I'm guessing is a bit of a change for him."

Arthur shook his head, "You ain't kidding. If he tried to treat the women back home, how he's treating the women here, he'd get a slap in the face!"

Dutch scowled, "I don't give a damn about how he treats the women, I need him to focus on work, and getting us a new life here. If he don't, then we're gonna have to cut him loose."

Arthur stared at Dutch in amazement, He had been trying to persuade Dutch, to cut Micah loose for months. He seriously didn't think they would have been in the state, they had found themselves in, if it hadn't been for Micah.

"I've been tellin' you, that he's a loose canon, for months, Dutch." Arthur stated, expecting to be shouted down.

"I know, son" Dutch replied, sighing slightly, "and I guess, I should have listened. But I'm seeing it now. Lets just get on with what we were doing, we'll worry about Micah later."

Dutch hailed a cab, and the two men, climbed in.

Micah, walked down a street, in one of the more seedier parts of town. Glancing over, he saw a couple of girls, and walked over. He immediately wrapped his arm around one of them, placing his hand on her bottom, and giving it a little slap.

"C'mon sweetheart, how about you and me go some place quite?" He grinned, dirtily.

The other girl, looked at Micah, a slight look of panic in her face.

Micah wrapped his other arm around her, and gave her bottom a squeeze. "Don't worry darlin, I'll look after you, as well." He said, slyly.

Before either woman could answer, a man stepped out of the shadows. He was a stockily built, Afro-American. He wore several gold chains around his neck.

Micah felt the women, tense.

"You want my women, you pay me first." The man said, menacingly.

Micah grinned, "I don't think so tough guy, I think you better turn around and walk away."

The women, pulled away from Micah, as the man, pulled a knife.

Micah laughed, before the man had a chance to react, Micah, kneed him in the groin. As he doubled over, in pain. Micah, landed two quick punches, one after the other, to the man's face.

As he fell to the ground, He stamped on the hand, holding the knife, there was an audible crunch, as the fingers broke. The man, screamed in pain, Immediately dropped the knife, and clutched his fingers to his chest.

Micah, pulled out his own knife, and held it to the man's throat.

"I gave you the chance to walk away, shame you didn't take it," he scoffed, and sliced his knife, deeply into the man's windpipe. He stood up smiling, as he watched the man, choke on his own blood.

He wiped his knife on the man's shirt, before putting it back in its holster.

Micah turned to the two women, who were staring at the dead body, sobbing. One of the girls looked at Micah, "What are we going to do now, he used to look after us?"

Micah walked over to her, and put his arm around her waist.

"I guess I'll look after you now, who was he anyway?"

She looked up at Micah, "He was our pimp." She said.

Micah frowned. "Pimp?" he questioned.

"He took the money we earned, and made sure that we were safe." she said, dismayed.

Micah grinned. "What's your name, sweetheart?" he asked, squeezing the girl, a little more tightly.

"Amy," She replied, her voice quivering slightly.

Micah, could tell she was a little frightened, that was good, he thought.

He looked at the girl, she was skin and bone. Her brown hair, was draped over one shoulder. It accentuated her cheekbones, and her doe-like, brown eyes.

Micah, cupped her chin, in his other hand, turned her head and tilted it slightly, forcing her to look at him. "And where does he keep all this money?" he asked, staring at her coldly.

He saw her Adams apple, bob, as she nervously swallowed.

"In his place, over there," Her eyes flicked to a tenement building, just across the street.

Micah's eyes flicked to the other girl, she was about the same age, and just as thin. But she had short blond hair, and blue eyes. She was still staring at the dead pimp.

"And what's your name, girl?" he said, glaring her.

"I..I'm Kerry," she said, glancing at the floor.

"Well Kerry, how many girls did you dead friend look after?"He asked, Menacingly.

Kerry, glance at Micah, then quickly looked away, "Two more, they're working in the next street," she replied, quickly.

"Then Kerry, sweetheart, you go and get them, and bring them back to his place." he said, glaring at her, "Oh, and don't take too long, after all you wouldn't want anything to happen to your little friend here, would you?"

Kerry looked at Amy, whose face now looked terrified. She quickly turned and started walking to the next street.

Micah, released his grip on Amy's waist, and grabbed her wrist. Dragging her over to the dead body, whilst he removed the gold chains, and rifled through his pockets.

He found a gun, which was very different to his own, he looked at it, then shoved it in his belt.

He put everything else, in his pocket, except for some keys, on a key ring, which he held up in front of Amy.

"What's this for?" He asked, glaring at her.

"The keys to his place, and his car." she said, quickly.

Micah released, his grip on her wrist. "Show me." he said sharply.

Amy lead Micah, to an apartment block, they climbed up a stone staircase, and she stopped in front of a door. Micah handed Amy, the keys, and she unlocked the door, then handed the keys back to Micah.

The apartment was dingy, and smelled of cigarettes and beer. There were empty beer cans, and cigarette butts, all over the place. Dirty dishes filled the sink, and a stained mattress, lay in the corner.

Amy went to a cupboard on the wall, and pulled out a metal box. She handed it to Micah.

Micah took the box and opened it. There was plenty of cash, all in paper bills. There must have been about ten thousand dollars.

He put the money in his pocket, and chucked the tin on the side.

Micah, walked towards Amy, and grasped her waist, as he pulled her into him. He put his hand on the back of her head, as his lips crashed against hers. She tried to resist, but his hold was too strong.

When Micah, felt her resistance, he stopped kissing her, but held onto her tightly, He grabbed her hair in his hand, forcing her head to tilt back. He glared at her.

"Don't forget, whose looking after you now?" he said, angrily.

He kissed her again, this time, she yielded, albeit reluctantly, and allowed his tongue to explore her mouth.

The kiss, much to Amy's delight, was over quickly, as Micah heard the apartment door, opening.

He turned around, and pulled out the gun, he had retrieved from the pimp.

Kerry, entered the room with two more girls.

Micah smiled at Kerry. "Good girl, now which of you can drive. I've had enough of this place already. Time for us to get to know each other."

The cab, took Dutch and Arthur, to an even more built up area of the city, much to Arthur's dismay.

They weren't in the street long though. The cab driver, had insisted that this was the best place, for the two men to get, as the cab driver had put it 'the best clothes in town'.

When they walked into the store, the assistant, sneered at the two men. His attitude soon changed, when he realised, just how much money, the duo, would be spending.

Dutch insisted, that they buy clothes for virtually every occasion, from the beach, to black tie events.

Arthur hoped there wouldn't be too many of the later, but went along with Dutch, to make him happy, more than anything.

Whilst most of the clothing, was sent on to the hotel, they decided that they would choose something to wear straight away.

Dutch decided on a three piece suit, with red accents and gold buttons, along with a white silk shirt, and gold cufflinks. Not unlike his old attire, but a lot more modern, making him look, rather dashing (according to the shop assistant.)

Arthur, decided to go for something a little more modern. Black designer jeans, a hooded sweatshirt, and short leather jacket.

The pair, certainly turned heads, and not in a bad way, as they headed to their next destination, the bank.

Dutch decided, that they should open a joint account. This didn't seem unusual to the bank, so they didn't question it. He also decided, that he didn't want Micah, accessing it. This did surprise Arthur, somewhat, but given Micah's recent antics, he was quite pleased. Especially as it appeared that Dutch was coming round to his way of thinking, certainly with regard to Micah.

Finally they headed to the store, to get mobile phones. Dutch had thought, they would need a bank account to purchase these, but this wasn't the case. The fake ID's which they had acquired earlier, enabled them to purchase a burner phone, one which didn't require any bank details. Dutch bought three. They would give one to Micah later, so at least the three of them could keep in touch. Especially when Micah did on of his disappearing acts, which seemed, to Dutch, to be quite a common occurrence.

With all that done, Dutch and Arthur headed back to the hotel. Arthur was keen to try and get a grip of this 21st century, so fiddled with his new phone, in the back of the cab, much to Dutch's annoyance. To anyone else, he would have looked like anyone else. No one would have had the slightest clue, that he was from another century.

Chapter Text

When the cab, pulled up at the hotel, Arthur glanced up from the phone.

"Oh, we're here already," he said, slightly surprised.

Dutch sighed, "Will ya put that thing away, for five minutes!"

Arthur shoved the phone in his jacket pocket.

The cabby laughed, "Ya know, my daughters exactly the same. Bloody phones!"

Dutch shook his head, and handed the cabby the fair, plus a little extra, and climbed out the cab.

"D'ya know, Dutch. That Charles painted over 200 paintings. That's just the ones they know about!" Arthur said, as they walked towards the hotel.

"How d'ya know that?" Dutch asked, with feigned interest.

Arthur pulled out his phone. "Its all in here," he said, tapping the mobile phone. "D'ya know what else?"

"No, Arthur. What else?" Dutch said, sounding slightly annoyed.

"The last drawing of his, sold for fifteen million, not ten or twelve." he said, triumphantly.

Dutch stopped walking, and stared and Arthur, who was smiling. A smug look on his face.

"She lied, Arthur, she thought she could take us for idiots!" he said, Angrily.

Dutch pulled the business card out of his pocket, that Kaitlyn had given him. He pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"Wait," Arthur said, hurriedly. "Don't call her yet, there's something else you should know."

Dutch looked at Arthur, frowning slightly. "What?" He snapped.

"Well.." Arthur said, as they walked into the hotel, "I googled her."

"You did what?" Dutch replied, frowning "What are you talking about?"

Arthur sighed, "You really need to check out your phone, Dutch. It's amazing."

Dutch sighed, "I'll take your word for it. Now just tell me what your talking about."

As they headed towards the elevator, the receptionist called over from the front desk.

"Mr Van Der Linde? We have a message for you."

Dutch walked over to the desk, and took the piece of paper, which was handed to him.

Arthur looked over as Dutch read the note. His expression changed, from a frown, to raised eyebrows and finished with a sigh.

"Trouble?" Arthur asked.

"Micah...he wants us to meet him in the bar, later." Dutch replied. "lets head in there now, and you can tell me all about Kaitlyn, and this googling business."

Arthur and Dutch, headed into the bar. Dutch ordered a couple of whisky's and they sat at a small table, out of the way.

"So," Arthur, began, "Kaitlyn Jones, is one of the daughters, of Matthew Jones,"

Dutch sighed, "Yes I know her name, and she has a father, called Matthew...what's the big deal."

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Well if you let me finish. Matthew Jones is on the Forbes list, of Billionaires."

"Billion..." Dutch, started to Interrupt.

"Yes," Arthur cut in, "He's fucking filthy rich, in other words."

Dutch, raised an eyebrow. "How did he make his money, I thought Outlaws, were a thing of the past."

Arthur laughed, "well yes and no. The way they make their money, is like daylight robbery, but its all legal! He's what they call an investor. He finds someone with a great idea, gives them some money, on the understanding, when the idea starts to make money, they get a piece of the action."

Dutch frowned, then laughed. "Doesn't sound like it would make a lot of money."

Arthur smiled, "yeah but its like, they take half of what the poor sucker makes. He doesn't actually have to do any work. He's like a modern day Strauss, only worse.!"

"So let me get this right, Someone starts a business, but doesn't have the money. So he gives him the money to make a start, once the business is up and running, he gets half of the profits?"

Arthur nodded. "And he owns half of the business. He's got so much money, he don't know what to do with it. So he collects stuff. Art, antiques. He has the biggest collection of Charles Chatenay art. Sends his daughter all over the place, chasing up more, or anything else that's rare, he can get his hands on."

Dutch looked at Arthur, and narrowed his eyes. "What else have you got, that you ain't told me about?"

Arthur, reached into his satchel, and pulled out a watch.

"Is that the..." Dutch lowered his voice, to a whisper, "the time travellers watch?"

Arthur smiled, "No. I think its best to hang on to that, just in case. This is the Reutlinger, we got off the riverboat, remember?"

Dutch smiled, and nodded. "Have you, Goo...Searched about that?"

Arthur nodded. "It's very rare. In fact, so rare, only two others have been sold." Arthur grinned.

"Arthur, son? "he stared at his friend, "How much...rare?"

Arthur had a smug look on his face. He leant over, and whispered in Dutch's ear. "Twenty four million, rare."

Dutch stared at Arthur, aghast. He gulped down the whisky. "You ain't serious, son?"

Arthur, took a sip of his whisky, and leaned back in the chair, and crossed one leg, over the other. "Yup." he said, smiling.

Dutch and Arthur, had a few more drinks, to toast their good fortune, and Arthur's, Googling skills.

Arthur continued to tell Dutch, all about the wonders of the internet, until they both spotted Micah, walking into the bar.

Dutch wasn't completely surprised, that Micah wasn't alone. Slightly more surprised, that he was wearing a completely different outfit.

"Micah!" Dutch raised his hand, as Micah turned to look.

Micah grinned, and headed over to where Dutch and Arthur were sitting.

He was dressed in an expensive, Italian suit, with a white silk tie. The woman on his arm, Dutch couldn't guess how old she was, but he thought, she was very young. She was dressed in a white silk dress, exactly the same shade, as Micah's tie. So she looked almost like an accessory. Micah, also had a white, silk scarf, draped across his shoulders.

Arthur, took one look, and rolled his eyes. Wondering what shady deals Micah had been up to.

Dutch, Cowpoke," He said, as he pulled out a chair, and slumped into it. He pulled a wad of notes from his pocket, and handed them to the girl.

"Go get us some drinks," He ordered, as he slapped her backside. She squealed slightly, but headed to the bar.

Micah looked at the girls backside, and licked his lips.

"I'm afraid, gentlemen, its time for us, to go our separate ways." Micah said grinning.

Dutch frowned, "Really, Micah. Why?"

Micah laughed, "this is a land of opportunity, and I've found a rather nice one." He glanced at the girl, as she brought the drinks over."

As she put the drinks on the table, Micah grabbed her hair, and pulled her face towards him, so it was inches away. He looked at the four drinks on the table.

"I told you to get us drinks, bitch! Not yourself!" he said, as he pushed her away, "Now go back to the car, I'll be there in five, and don't do anything stupid!"

The girl, quickly left the men, and headed outside.

"Micah, what the hell has got into you?" Arthur said, angrily.

"Shut-up cowpoke, she's one of my business opportunities. Seems like there's money to be made, looking after whores. They do all the fucking, and I keep all the money." Micah laughed.

Dutch stared at him, "Surely that isn't...legal."

Micah rolled his eyes, "I doubt it, but I ain't the sorta person to worry about that. Shit, a few days ago, neither were you."

Dutch sighed, "Micah, we have the opportunity to make a new start. Not be chased by the law."

Micah laughed, "too late for me Dutch, I don't roll like that. I've already killed the whores pimp, stolen his stash, stolen his whores and stolen his car."

Arthur stared at Micah, "You killed someone...here?"

Micah scowled,"oh cowpoke, don't be so high and mighty, until a few days ago, you'd think nothin' of killing someone who got in your way."

Dutch shook his head, and reached into his pocket for the phone, they had bought for Micah.

"At least take this, if you need anything, or if we need to reach you...well at least we can stay in touch."

Micah, took the phone, drank the whisky, and stood up.

"Be lucky," he growled, and smiled, as he headed out the door.

Arthur sat their for a few minutes without saying a word, as did Dutch.

"I guess that's it then," Arthur said, looking at Dutch.

Dutch nodded, and took out Kaitlyn's business card. He smiled at Arthur, wiping the thought of Micah, out of his mind.

"Time to make the call!" he said, smiling.

Kaitlyn, looked at her phone. Trying to decide, whether to call her father. Just seeing the letter, from Charles Chatenay, was enough. But would the strangers contact her again. If she jumped the gun, her father would be furious. She remembered the last time, she thought she'd found an original. It had, of course, turned out to be a fake. He'd yelled at her, as though it was her fault. Well it kind of was. She'd got so over excited, that she hadn't checked the provenance. But this time. This was different.

Before she had a chance to pick her phone up, to make the call, it started to ring.

Kaitlyn, looked at the phone. She didn't recognise the number. Taking a deep breath, she answered.

"Kaitlyn Jones."

"Hello Miss Jones, Dutch Van Der Linde."

Kaitlyn smiled "Mr Van Der Linde, I'm so glad you called. I can have my fathers plane standing by, as soon as you are ready, I can send a car. Is 8pm ok?"

"Yes of course, it will give us time to pack." Dutch replied.

"Excellent, I'll see you both at 8pm" Kaitlyn finished the call. Now to call her father, and get the flight plan filed. She looked at her watch, it was 5pm. Just enough time.

Dutch looked at the phone, after Kaitlyn had hung up. Call ended, he read off the screen.

"Ya know, Arthur. These little devices are amazing. Imagine, how much easier life would have been...before, if we'd had these."

Arthur laughed. "Or more complicated. Imagine if the sheriffs, or the Pinkertons had these."

Dutch frowned, "I'd rather not. Anyway, we need to get packed. Kaitlyn is picking us up at 8pm."

The two men left the bar. He figured, now was a good time to pay the hotel bill. The new clothes should be delivered soon, and he guessed that they would need to pack them into something, for the flight.

The woman at the reception, was most helpful, and suggested that they purchase, some luggage. Which coincidently had the hotel logo on it.

Dutch wasn't really bothered, what logo it had. So he agreed for it to be added to the bill.

Arthur and Dutch, did the best job they could, of packing for the trip. Although, both of the men, had started to lose their tempers slightly. Packing up, had usually been done, by the ladies at the camp. Now it was just Dutch and Arthur, so it wasn't unusual that nerves had begun to fray a little.

The last item of clothing, had been rammed into the last suitcase, when there was a knock at the door.

Dutch stormed over to the door, not in the best of moods, as he swung the door open. He was just about to yell, at who-ever was on the other side, when he came face to face with Kaitlyn.

"I'm slightly early," she said, smiling. "My driver, can take your bags, if your ready?"

Dutch smiled, "I think we're about ready. Arthur? Are you ready?" he asked, looking over his shoulder.

Arthur smirked, seeing the bad tempered Dutch, flip to all smiling Dutch. He wasn't sure if it was Kaitlyn, or the thought of all the money they would be getting.

"Sure, I'm ready." he replied.

Kaitlyn, peered past Dutch, to see Arthur, with his hands in his pockets, smiling.

She beckoned along the corridor, then turned back to Dutch and Arthur, who had now appeared in the doorway.

"How about we go get a drink, whilst they put your luggage in the car" She gestured towards her driver, and the hotel porter.

Dutch nodded, and both he and Arthur, followed Kaitlyn to the Elevator.

The hotel bar, had started to get busy. Wall to wall, with suits, and elegantly dressed women. Arthur felt more than a little underdressed. But then, he'd soon be a multi-millionaire, so what he dressed like, wouldn't be an issue.

Kaitlyn frowned. "Its a little more busy in here than I had hoped. Lets just wait in the car, if you gentlemen ok with that?"

Arthur, grinned to himself. He couldn't remember the last time he had been called a gentlemen, if ever. He glanced across at Dutch, who had puffed his chest out at that comment. He'd always liked the idea of being seen as a gentleman, rather than an outlaw.

"Of course, Miss Jones" Dutch replied, as he gently placed his hand in the small of her back, guiding her, from the bar.

Kaitlyn, blushed slightly, "Please," she said, "call me Kaitlyn."

Kaitlyn, glanced at all the luggage, heading towards the car.

"That's a lot of luggage for a short trip," she commented.

"Well the thing, is Kaitlyn, we may be looking at buying some property in England," Dutch replied, smiling.

Arthur frowned, that was news to him.

Kaitlyn looked at Dutch and smiled, "Well perhaps, I can show you around, once we've finished, dealing with business?"

"The pleasure, would be all mine," He replied.

Arthur rolled his eyes, some things about Dutch, just never changed.

Chapter Text

Arthur, stepped into the waiting car. To say it was luxurious, was an understatement. Each row of seats, faced each other. A mini bar, with various bottles, just like in the hotel room.

For once, since arriving here, he smelt something he recognised. Leather. The faint aroma, as he sank into the luxurious seats of the car. Arthur pressed his fingers into the soft seats. It was soft. Much softer than the leather he was used to. A pang of regret, passed through his mind. He really disliked some things about this world. Being enclosed was the biggest thing. What he wouldn't give, to feel his horse underneath him, feel the rough leather reins in his hands, and just ride, fast, feeling the breeze on his face.

Arthur sighed.

"Everything alright Mr Morgan?" Kaitlyn asked.

"Sure, Just not a great lover of the city." He replied, guardedly.

Dutch laughed, "We're country boys, Kaitlyn. We're missing the wide open spaces, of home."

The car slowly moved away, gathering speed.

"And where exactly is home, Dutch?" Kaitlyn asked, tilting her head to one side.

Dutch smiled, and gave Arthur, a conspiratory glance. "A long way from here."

Arthur coughed, putting his hand to his mouth, to conceal a grin.

Dutch frowned, "you alright, son. You've been taking your medicine?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, and pulled the pill bottle out of his pocket, and chucked a tablet, down his throat.

Kaitlyn frowned, and passed Arthur a bottle of water. "This should help, wash it down."

Arthur gratefully took the water, and quickly took a mouthful.

Dutch glared at Arthur, "I'm just worried about you, son."

Kaitlyn, smiled at Dutch. "I didn't think you were old enough to be Arthur's father." Kaitlyn, looked confused for a moment. "But you don't share the same name."

Dutch laughed, "No, I took this little scoundrel under my wing, when he was about fifteen."

Arthur looked indignantly, "Dutch!" he exclaimed.

Kaitlyn laughed. "I guess we all go through a wild phase."

Dutch leant forward, and looked Kaitlyn in the eyes, "and tell me, Miss Jones, what was your...wild phase?" He asked, in a lowered voice.

Kaitlyn blushed, "I...I think we're almost at the airport," she stuttered, quickly changing the subject.

Dutch leant back in his seat, chuckling.

The car slowly pulled to a stop. Dutch glanced out the window. The car had stopped by a small building. Ahead, was a barrier which was blocking the car from going any further forward.

Before he could ask, Kaitlyn, why they had stopped, the glass between the driver, and passenger compartment, slowly lowered.

The driver, turned around. "Excuse me Miss Jones, but security require the gentlemen's passports, as they haven't been through before."

"Of course, George." she said, "Mr Van Der Linde, Mr Morgan. You have passports?" she asked, glancing from one man, to the other.

Dutch pulled his passport, from his inside pocket, and passed it to the driver, Arthur did the same.

The glass partition, slid back up. Dutch looked out the window, and saw the driver, talking to the security guard.

After a short while, the glass partition, slid back down. George handed the passports back to Dutch.

"Thank you, sir. Everything is in order." he said, politely.

Dutch handed, Arthur his passport back, subtly raising his eyebrows, which only Arthur noticed.

The partition, slid back up, and the car, moved forward. Albeit at a much slower speed.

It slowly drew to a stop. Arthur looked out the window, staring at the vehicle, which the car had drawn up next to.

Dutch saw the look on Arthur's face, and looked. Although he was as amazed as Arthur, at what he saw, he managed to keep calm.

Dutch nudged Arthur. Enough for Arthur to stop staring at the plane.

Kaitlyn laughed. "You look like you've never seen a plane before, Arthur."

Dutch looked at Kaitlyn, whilst patting Arthur on the shoulder. "You'll have to forgive Arthur, Miss Jones, he's not been well."

Kaitlyn, immediately stopped laughing. "Oh, I'm sorry. Lets get on the plane," she smiled, "to be fair, Dutch, not many people get to fly in one of these."

Dutch nodded, "I guess not," he said, not having the slightest idea what she was talking about.

Arthur, and Dutch, followed Kaitlyn, up the steps of the plane. Glancing around, Dutch noticed that this one was smaller than some of the other planes he could see. But then, he guessed that you wouldn't need anything as huge as that, if there were only a few of you flying. It also seemed, that Kaitlyn, and likely, her father, felt the need to be transported in luxury, if the car had been anything to go by.

As they walked into the plane, Dutch wasn't disappointed. The seating, was white leather, with black and white cushions, scattered around. There were 4 individual seats at one end, at the other end was a large, white leather sofa, with a flat panel television on the wall. Further along, an archway led to what appeared to be a dining area. The floor was covered in thick black carpet. Above the seats, there were storage lockers, all in white with chrome trim. At the front end, was a door. He assumed that was where the driver would be.

Standing just inside the door, were a man and a woman, both smartly dressed in some sort of uniform.

"Good evening, Miss Jones, Gentlemen. We'll be taking off in twenty minutes." he said, "If you'll excuse me, I have to finish the pre-flight checks."

Kaitlyn smiled, "Thank you Matthew."

The man headed towards the front of the plane.

"I guess, he's the driver," Dutch said, smiling.

Kaitlyn laughed, "Yes, he's the pilot."

The young woman, in uniform, bit her lip, trying to keep a straight face.

"If you'd like to take a seat, I'll bring you some pre-flight refreshments. I'll be serving dinner, once we've taken off, if that's ok with you Miss Jones?"

Kaitlyn nodded, "Thank you, Katy."

The woman nodded, closed the door, and headed off to the rear of the plane.

Arthur gazed around the cabin, "So does this belong to you're father?" he asked.

Kaitlyn smiled, "yes, daddy got fed up of the delays on commercial flights, so he bought this. I travel quite a lot, on his behalf. Its nice not having to wait around in airport terminals. I just have to get Matthew to file the flight plans, a couple of hours before we leave."

"And Katy?" Dutch asked, looking towards the rear of the plane.

"Katy, looks after us, during the flight. She sorts out refreshments, food. Makes sure we're comfortable. We've even got some beds, right at the back, if you want to get your head down later."

Arthur frowned, "Later? How long will it take?"

"About eight hours," Kaitlyn looked at her watch, "we should arrive around five am, which will be ten am UK time."

Arthur just blinked. Not quite understanding everything Kaitlyn had just said. All this, however, was put to the back of his mind, when Katy emerged from the rear of the plane, with a tray of drinks.

Kaitlyn, smiled. "I thought champagne...and a toast to new friends." she said, picking up a glass from the tray.

Dutch and Arthur, picked up a glass of champagne each.

"To new friends," Dutch said, as he raised his glass. Arthur smiled, and raised his glass. To Francis Sinclair, he thought to himself. Because without him, they wouldn't be here, and he was pretty sure, that by now, he would be dead.

Chapter Text

Once the champagne, had been drunk. Katy, once again, emerged from the rear of the plane.

"Miss Jones, gentlemen, I need to get you buckled in, ready for take off." Katy, gestured to the single seats.

Dutch and Arthur, walked to the seats, near the front of the plane. Closely followed by Kaitlyn.

Kaitlyn, quickly buckled herself in.

Dutch, picked up, both ends of the buckle, and stared at them, slightly confused.

Katy bent over Dutch, "here, sir. Let me help you." She said, as she took the seat belt, from him, and connected both ends of the buckle.

"Why, thank you Katy," he purred. Katy blushed slightly, and looked towards Arthur, who had already, managed to buckle himself in.

Arthur looked at the buckle, "I'm not gonna be stuck like this for eight hours, I hope."

Katy smiled at Arthur, "No sir, just until we're in the air. I'll let you know, when you can move around again."

Katy headed, towards the rear of the plane, as the engines started to rumble. After a few minutes, the plane started to move. Arthur looked out the window, as the plane picked up speed. He closed his eyes, and gripped onto the armrest. He would be glad when this was over.

Kaitlyn, looked at Arthur. Maybe it hadn't been wise, for Arthur to sit next to the window. Especially if he hadn't flown before.

"Are you ok, Mr Morgan?" she asked.

Arthur nodded, and opened his eyes, but avoided looking out the window. He glanced across at Dutch, who seemed completely relaxed, if not a little bored, by the whole experience.

A short while later, Katy walked into the cabin.

"Please feel free, to unbuckle yourselves," she said, smiling. "I'll serve dinner, in around thirty minutes, if thats ok, Miss Jones?"

Kaitlyn nodded. "Thank you, Katy." she unclipped her seatbelt, and walked over to the sofa.

Arthur, unclipped his seatbelt, and leaned over to Dutch. "You don't need young Katy, to help you unbuckle, do ya?" he said, grinning.

Dutch, unbuckled his seatbelt. "Oh, Arthur. I know how to work a seatbelt," he said, winking.

Arthur rolled his eyes, as he got up and made his way to the sofa, where Kaitlyn was already sitting.

He sat at the other end, leaving the seat next to Kaitlyn, vacant for Dutch. He wasn't sure, if Dutch intended, on making any moves, on this Annabelle lookalike. But knowing Dutch, he didn't think it would be far from his mind. Even if, she was young enough to be his daughter.

Dutch walked past Arthur, and sat down on the sofa, next to Kaitlyn. He leaned back, stretching his legs out in front, his fingers, interlocked behind his head.

"So, Kaitlyn. Tell me what England has to offer two up and coming businessmen, like myself, and Arthur."

Arthur, looked across at Dutch, and smirked. He quickly sat back on the sofa, so Kaitlyn, couldn't see the look on his face. He thought, that perhaps, Dutch was taking the millionaire, businessman image, a bit too far.

Kaitlyn looked at Dutch, a little taken a back, but smiled. "I think you'll find England, pleasantly surprising. Especially as you're not too keen on the city life. There are plenty of wide open spaces. Country estates. That's not to say, that we don't have cities too. But if you choose to, you can run your business, from the comfort of your own home."

Dutch, Smiled, sat forward, and turned to look at Kaitlyn, "That's all very well, Miss Jones, but what do you do for fun?"

Kaitlyn blushed. She was saved, from having to answer, as Katy appeared.

"Would you like to come through for dinner, now?" She asked.

Kaitlyn stood up, straightening her clothes, "Yes," she said, a little flustered. "Let's eat."

Dutch winked at Arthur, and grinned. He followed Kaitlyn, through to the dining room.

Arthur stood up, and rolled his eyes. Slightly concerned, what Dutch would do next.

Thankfully, dinner passed without Dutch, trying to embarrass Kaitlyn, too much more.

Polite conversation, which mostly revolved around, possible properties, the current cost of land, in the UK, and more talk of the her fathers, art and antiquity collection.

After dinner, she suggested that they both might want to retire, and Katy, escorted Dutch and Arthur, to the cabin, at the back of the plane.

Struggling to get his head, around the time difference. Arthur decided, sleep wasn't such a bad idea.

Katy, said she would wake them, thirty minutes before they were due to land.

Arthur soon fell asleep, and started to dream. Well more of a nightmare really. Francis Sinclair, standing in front of him, "you stole my device Arthur. You shouldn't have used it. What about the poor people you left behind. They were relying on you. You need to go back!"

"Arthur! Arthur! Wake up!"

Arthur groaned, and opened his eyes, to see Dutch shaking him, and yelling.

"Alright, Alright, I'm awake," He grumbled.

Katy stood in the doorway, looking apologetic, "I'm sorry Mr Morgan, but we'll be landing soon."

Arthur rubbed his eyes, and sat up.

"I thought you were ill again," Dutch said, looking worried, "You wouldn't wake up."

"I'm awake now," Arthur grunted, as he stood up, and followed Katy through to the main cabin.

The two men, sat down in the seats and buckled up, in preparation for landing. Arthur, sat next to the window. This time, however, he was a little more relaxed. As they came into land, he looked out the window, at the ground below.

He smiled at Kaitlyn, "Its so green, reminds me of home."

Dutch leaned over Arthur, to take a look, "Ya know Arthur, I think we're gonna like it here."

As the plane, came into land, Arthur was surprised, not to see any large passenger planes, like he had, when they left Pittsburgh.

Kaitlyn laughed. "Daddy really doesn't like commercial airports. So we have our own airstrip. Its just a short drive to the house."

Arthur looked at Dutch, and grinned. "Whadya think?" he said.

Dutch laughed, "I think this is gonna suit us just fine."

Chapter Text

 Once the plane had come to a halt. Katy, opened the door.

Kaitlyn was the first to leave, closely followed by Dutch and then Arthur.

They followed her to a waiting car.

Arthur shivered. The climate was different. Not exactly cold, but not exactly warm either.

Kaitlyn grinned. “The English weather,” she smirked, “you never really know what its going to do!”

As they approached the car, Dutch noted its size. Not as big and luxurious as the one, they had driven to the airport in, but still very comfortable. As Arthur, got into the car, he felt the seats. These people, sure did like their leather. He was glad. It made things feel a little more familiar.

As promised, the drive to the house was a short one. Both men were a little surprised at the size of it. Knowing what they knew about Matthew Jones, they perhaps shouldn't have been. Dutch was curious to meet this man, this billionaire.

The only people remotely like him, that Dutch had ever met, were Leviticus Cornwall and Angelo Bronte.

One he’d killed, the other. Well lets just say he was lucky. If Arthur's watch hadn’t flung them into the future. Well he would be dead as well, because that had been his intention. He put the thought out of his mind, as the car pulled to a halt.

As they stepped out of the car, Arthur took the opportunity to look around.

The large house, with a long sweeping drive was nestled in its own grounds. It reminded him a little of the Braithwaite house. Except nicer, with trees dotted around, and a river in the distance, running through the property. The house was very imposing. He wondered how far the land that surrounded it stretched. He also wondered if it was owned by Mr Jones. He could imagine, getting on a horse and riding around.

If Dutch was serious, about settling here. Then maybe they could find something similar. He sure as hell didn't want to end up living somewhere like Pittsburgh.

Dutch tapped him on the shoulder, pointing towards Kaitlyn who had already started walking towards the house.

The door was opened, from the inside. As they walked through, Arthur glanced at the person who had opened the door. He was dressed in a suit, and looked about the same age, as Hosea had been.

The man eyed him up and down. As they followed Kaitlyn, Arthur nudged Dutch. “I don't like the look of him,” he commented, as he glanced back at the man. Dutch looked over his shoulder, and chuckled.

“Don’t worry Arthur, I think he must be some sort of servant. I read somewhere that rich people in England, have butlers, and maids to do all the work for them.”

Kaitlyn stopped at the end of the large hallway. It was very ornate. Italian Marble tiles on the floor, and a high domed ceiling.

She noticed, Dutch looking around.

“It used to be a stately home, until they couldn’t afford the upkeep. My father bought it, some years ago. Its big, so he liked it.” she smirked.

“It’s very impressive,” Dutch commented.

Kaitlyn smiled, “I’ve arranged for you to stay in one of the lodges. My father is in his study, once you’ve concluded your business, I’ll get the car to take you there.”

Dutch nodded, whilst Arthur just raised his eyebrows slightly. This was going to take a bit of getting used to.

Dutch and Arthur followed Kaitlyn to a large oak door. She knocked on it, and waited. They heard a muffled voice, after which Kaitlyn opened the door and entered.

“Hello father, I’ve brought Mr Van Der Linde and Mr Morgan,” she explained.

Dutch and Arthur walked into the study. It was huge. A large Mahogany desk was the centre point of the room. The walls were panelled in the same dark wood, with the exception of one, which housed a large window, that looked out across the estate. On the walls were a variety of paintings. Arthur immediately recognised the style, and smiled at the memory of his friend, Charles Chatenay.

Arthur glanced at the man stood behind the desk. He was tall and bald. Sporting a greying beard. He would have reminded him of Leviticus Cornwall, except for the fact that he wasn't fat. He wore a dark coloured suit, but his shirt collar was open.

Matthew Jones smirked when he saw Arthur eyeing up the paintings. He knew straight away that his daughter had been wrong if she thought she could cheat these Americans.

He walked from behind his desk, and held out his hand.

“Mr Van Der Linde, Mr Morgan, good of you to come all this way,” he enthused, a fake smile on his face.

Dutch shook the billionaires hand. His accent was strange. He expected him to sound a little more like Trelawny, but it was rougher, clipped somehow. Dutch scanned the room. He was impressed, but tried not to show it. It was at times like this he really missed Hosea.

“Not to be rude Mr Jones, but your accent...” Dutch queried.

Matthew Jones chuckled, “It always gets you yanks, I’m from London...cockney.”

Dutch nodded, not having the slightest idea what he was talking about.

“Shall we get down to business?” Dutch urged.

Matthew Jones nodded, He liked the no nonsense approach of this man, and gestured towards two antique wing back chairs that faced his desk.

Dutch and Arthur sat down, and waited for Matthew Jones to sit in the large leather swivel chair behind his desk.

“Now, may I see the drawing and the watch?” the billionaire asked.

Arthur put the watch and the drawing on the table, along with the letter from Charles.

Matthew pulled out an eyeglass, and examined everything that was laid before him, feeling the texture of the paper that the drawing was on, and also the letter.

Matthew Jones hummed, “I’m impressed gentlemen, and that is not something that happens a great deal!”

He glanced up at his daughter, and smiled. “Thank you Kaitlyn, you may go. I can take it from here!”

Dutch glanced over his shoulder at Kaitlyn. She looked less than impressed, but turned and left the study.

Dutch looked back at Matthew Jones, “your daughter. She’s quite the businesswoman!”

Matthew nodded, “she tries,” he sighed, looking less than impressed. “Now lets get down to business gentlemen, how much do you want?”

Dutch looked at Matthew Jones and smirked. “These little objects are quite rare, aren't they Matthew? You don’t mind if I call you Matthew, do you?”

Dutch watched the man stiffen, he could tell he really did mind, but Dutch knew he had the upper hand. The man desperately wanted these little trinkets.

“Go on, Mr Van Der Linde!” Matthew Jones hissed.

Dutch licked his lips, “please, call me Dutch. We’re all friends here after all!”

Dutch picked up the watch, and turned it over in his hand.

“Well now let me see, I think thirty for the watch, and twenty for the painting, what do you think Arthur?”

Arthur smirked, he’d played a similar game with Hosea in the past, when they had conned someone. This wasn’t exactly a con. The items were worth a lot of money. Not as much a what Dutch was asking for, but he didn't think for one minute that Matthew Jones would take the risk of losing them. Not when he could easily afford that sort of money.

“I think that's very fair, Dutch!” he confirmed.

Matthew Jones scowled at Dutch, “you’re crazy if you think I’m paying that sort of money!”

Dutch raised an eyebrow. He picked up the items that were on the table and handed them back to Arthur, “I guess we’ll be heading to auction then. Nice to have met you Mr Jones.”

Dutch stood up, he glanced at Arthur who did the same, and they both headed towards the door.

As they reached the door, Dutch wondered if he had pushed it a little too far. He was hoping to call the man's bluff. He thought for a moment he’d failed.

“Wait!” Matthew Jones yelled.

Dutch stopped, and counted silently to five before he turned to look at the billionaire.

Matthew Jones sighed, “you have a deal.”

Dutch walked back to the desk, and held his hand out to shake on the deal.

Matthew Jones extended his hand. He knew he’d just been ripped off, but he’d obtained what he wanted. To be fair his daughter had tried to do the same.

Matthew Jones smirked, “I’ll have to make sure next time I’m doing business with you, I’m on the same side of the table.”