The Third Option - Part 4
This is part four of my new novel titled "The Third Option" which is expected to be released in May.
As David ran, he thought about his Uncle Alan and the time he had run laps with him at his high school track. That’s when his uncle had told him about the secret society he was involved with. Although David didn’t fully understand what he was getting into, that’s also when he had promised his uncle that he’d carry on with his work if anything happened to him. And it did, when his uncle died in a plane crash along with Edward Bronson, the media magnate who had founded the group.
David also found himself thinking about what his grandmother had said – if you want something to happen, sometimes you have to make it happen. He found the pace of his running increasing.
It was a beautiful autumn morning. Most people were still home in bed, but he’d encountered a few other joggers out pounding the pavement. These were people who made things happen and David wanted to be one of them.
When he turned down the street that ran along the river, he became aware of a car that seemed to be following him. The sun wasn’t fully up and the car headlights lit up the road ahead, but it was staying about twenty paces behind him.
Suddenly, the car sped up and drove by him. It was a big, black, Lincoln Town Car and it stopped about two hundred yards ahead of David, alongside some trees. The headlights were turned off, but the engine continued to run. David slowed his pace as he approached the car. He heard the window on the passenger side of the car being lowered.
“Nice morning for a run,” the driver of the car said as David came alongside the vehicle.
David recognized the voice, but still peered into the vehicle to confirm who it was. “Mr. Westbrook. What brings you out to my neighborhood?”
Simon Westbrook was the new head of the secret society that David belonged to.
“It’s been quite a few months since we last spoke,” Mr. Westbrook said. “I just wanted to check in to see how you’re doing.”
“I’m doing okay,” David said through the open window.
“Get in,” Mr. Westbrook said. “Let’s go for a drive.”
David looked around to make sure no one else was watching and then climbed into the passenger seat.
“How’s the head?” Mr. Westbrook asked as he pulled away from the curb.
“Good. The headaches have stopped. I’m starting to feel more like myself again.”
They drove in silence for another minute before the next question was asked.
“I was wondering if you still wanted to be part of our little club. You’ve been through a lot. I’d understand completely if you just wanted to walk away.”
David took a few seconds to think. “Actually, I was wondering if I could become more involved.”
“More involved? I think you’re plenty involved. You got shot on our last project. You can’t get much more involved than that.”
“I mean being more than just a courier. I want to be someone who helps solve the problems, not just pass messages on to the people who do.”
“Everyone’s role is important.”
“Yeah, I know, but lately I’m feeling like I’m just standing on the sidelines. It seems like the world is going to hell in a hand-basket and all I’m doing is watching it happen. I can do more.”
Mr. Westbrook studied David’s face. “I’m sure you can – but it could be dangerous. Are you sure you’re willing to take that risk?”
David looked directly at him. “Absolutely. The only thing necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing. And I’m not going to stand by and do nothing.”
As David ran, he thought about his Uncle Alan and the time he had run laps with him at his high school track. That’s when his uncle had told him about the secret society he was involved with. Although David didn’t fully understand what he was getting into, that’s also when he had promised his uncle that he’d carry on with his work if anything happened to him. And it did, when his uncle died in a plane crash along with Edward Bronson, the media magnate who had founded the group.
David also found himself thinking about what his grandmother had said – if you want something to happen, sometimes you have to make it happen. He found the pace of his running increasing.
It was a beautiful autumn morning. Most people were still home in bed, but he’d encountered a few other joggers out pounding the pavement. These were people who made things happen and David wanted to be one of them.
When he turned down the street that ran along the river, he became aware of a car that seemed to be following him. The sun wasn’t fully up and the car headlights lit up the road ahead, but it was staying about twenty paces behind him.
Suddenly, the car sped up and drove by him. It was a big, black, Lincoln Town Car and it stopped about two hundred yards ahead of David, alongside some trees. The headlights were turned off, but the engine continued to run. David slowed his pace as he approached the car. He heard the window on the passenger side of the car being lowered.
“Nice morning for a run,” the driver of the car said as David came alongside the vehicle.
David recognized the voice, but still peered into the vehicle to confirm who it was. “Mr. Westbrook. What brings you out to my neighborhood?”
Simon Westbrook was the new head of the secret society that David belonged to.
“It’s been quite a few months since we last spoke,” Mr. Westbrook said. “I just wanted to check in to see how you’re doing.”
“I’m doing okay,” David said through the open window.
“Get in,” Mr. Westbrook said. “Let’s go for a drive.”
David looked around to make sure no one else was watching and then climbed into the passenger seat.
“How’s the head?” Mr. Westbrook asked as he pulled away from the curb.
“Good. The headaches have stopped. I’m starting to feel more like myself again.”
They drove in silence for another minute before the next question was asked.
“I was wondering if you still wanted to be part of our little club. You’ve been through a lot. I’d understand completely if you just wanted to walk away.”
David took a few seconds to think. “Actually, I was wondering if I could become more involved.”
“More involved? I think you’re plenty involved. You got shot on our last project. You can’t get much more involved than that.”
“I mean being more than just a courier. I want to be someone who helps solve the problems, not just pass messages on to the people who do.”
“Everyone’s role is important.”
“Yeah, I know, but lately I’m feeling like I’m just standing on the sidelines. It seems like the world is going to hell in a hand-basket and all I’m doing is watching it happen. I can do more.”
Mr. Westbrook studied David’s face. “I’m sure you can – but it could be dangerous. Are you sure you’re willing to take that risk?”
David looked directly at him. “Absolutely. The only thing necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing. And I’m not going to stand by and do nothing.”
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