The Rendezvous // Thomas Sangster

The Third Man

There were times I cherished being alone in the woods. The forest seemed to run through my senses in a way that made me feel alive, yet sleepy somehow. I could sit under a tree in complete silence for hours, and hear only the sound of leaves brushing against one another, or hear the sounds of snapping twigs in the distance, or the wind whispering sweet nothings in my ear, and I would have been perfectly content. There were some nights that it seemed right to do just that.

This was one of those nights. With a heavier jacket on, and the waxing moon in the sky, it seemed like a sin not to sit and enjoy it. Unfortunately, I was on a mission. I could not now take the time to enjoy nature like I usually would.

This didn't take away the satisfying feeling, however, of deliberately disobeying Thomas's orders. It felt wonderful to walk slowly through the woods, to the exact spot Thomas said not to go. Although, I admit that I'm a little afraid of being caught trespassing. If he seemed concerned about it, something told me that I should be too. I push that away from me; telling myself that I would be in and out of there in no time.

I travel the trail slowly. My eyes scan the path, hoping that I would be able to recognize where I ran off the trail earlier. With luck, I found the exact spot, and in what seemed like no time at all, for someone who was taking her time to get somewhere, I found the old well. My sketchbook wasn't even in the well, but right outside it, perched on the edge.

Being more careful than before, I leaned over, picking it up with triumph and relief. I exhale, spinning around on my feet and making my way, this time faster, towards the trail.

I've almost made it to the path when I freeze in my tracks. I hear a small hissing sound, and for a second, I almost think the snake has come back for round two. But then I see movement from the corner of my eye, and the small hissing sound, I determine to be whispers.

It's a group of three men, standing clustered together, talking. They wear dark hats and jackets. I can't see their faces, based off of the positions they stand in. Two of them have their backs turned to me, and one of them stands in front of the other.

I follow my instincts and duck down behind a tree, where I can still hear and see them.

"We need to stop meeting here." I hear one of the men say. For some reason his voice sounds familiar. "We're too vulnerable here. Anyone could walk up and-"

"It's the middle of the night. Who is just going to 'walk up'?" The second man says.

"Wouldn't you rather be safe than sorry?" The first one snaps.

"Cut the lecture right now, boy. We have work to do." Says the third man, shifting his position so he can open a satchel that hangs from his shoulder.

I can see the first man's face.

Thomas.

The third man pulls a folder out of his bag, handing it to Thomas, who takes it grudgingly.

"You're covering the next few projects, Sangster." He says, "I want you to give the arrangements to Vanderchaff. She'll do most of the planning, but I want you to oversee it."

"Yes, sir." Thomas says.

"There's an itemized list included in the folder, with specific instructions on everything. You know the protocol. You give the budget to our friend at the bank, and remind him to make our losses look subtle. One small slip up could cost us years of work."

"Yes, sir."

"Make sure everyone knows." The third man continues, "I want all hands on deck for the next couple months. We're close to our goal...so close. I haven't spent half my life working on this for nothing."