“Thank you for your service, brother” Peter said quietly into the beggar’s ear, as he slid the knife quickly in between his ribs and deep into his heart. Caught by surprise, the man had no time to react. His last breath was a stifled cry before his eyes closed and he slipped back down the wall.
Peter threw a couple of shekels down into the begging bowl in front of his feet as he stood up, patted the dog next to him, touched his forehead as he intoned a silent prayer, and looked around surreptitiously before moving off down the street.
Behind him, the beggar looked like to all the world like he was sleeping, his dog licking the blood tricking out of his chest and pawing at him gently.
As he walked, Peter followed his usual rules for checking if anyone was watching. He stopped suddenly at random points, reversed his route and picked up mirrored items from stalls to check behind him.
He seemed safe. He relaxed and settled into a normal walking pace as he wandered through the through the bazaar until finally ending up in a quiet, dusty side street.
He had a quick final look round and then knocked twice on a non-descript wooden door with peeling paint. A knock came back in return. Her knocked again, this time in a pattern.
The door opened a crack and a young, bearded man’s face peered out. “All clear?” the man asked. “All clear.” Peter responded. The doorway widened and he slipped through and into the hallway behind.
The bearded man closed the door quickly behind him. “He’s waiting for you”, he said, nodding towards the back of the house.
Peter glanced into rooms as he went past them, seeing groups of men huddled round talking in whispers. When they saw him, they turned away, avoiding his gaze.
My reputation precedes me, Peter thought to himself with a tight grimace.
As he entered the back room, a hush descended and the faces glanced towards him and then back to the central occupant, a strong and tanned individual with long hair.
“My rock has returned.” the man said. “It is done?” he asked.
“It is done.” Peter replied.
“Good.” He motioned to the door to the others in the room. “Leave us.”
They filed out silently, keeping their heads down as they passed Peter in the doorway. After they had all left, he moved across to the man.
“Was it necessary?” he asked.
“It was my son.” The man answered sorrowfully. “The authorities, they are close to us, and he knew too much” He paused. “It hurts me as much as it hurts you. But we must keep our focus.”
“He took great risks for us.” Peter said. “Lazarus spent longer in the cave than we told him he would need to, because of your delay. He was close to death when he came out.”
“But he’d fallen on hard times,” the man countered. “And that means there was a danger of betrayal. He was a good disciple, and he’ll be well rewarded in the next life. But if we fall now, then all of this will have been for nothing.”
Peter looked down at his sandals. “I know.”
“You are doing the work of God, Peter. Have faith. You will be rewarded. As will his sisters. Mary and Martha will be taken care of.”
“I wonder,” Peter said, thinking out loud, “how my actions will impact where I will end up in the afterlife.”
“You’re on the edge of heaven” the man said.
“Yes, but will I get in?” Peter replied.
“That is for our Father to decide.”
An uneasy silence passed between both men.
“Now, we must move on. We have much work to do. I am planning a sermon on the mount tomorrow. And I want you to do something for me.”
“What do you need?”
“I’d like you to take this letter to Judas Iscariot. It is important that he does not tell anyone of what it contains.” He handed over a tightly rolled scroll, sealed with wax. “And then come meet with me on the mount. I want you by my side. You are my rock Peter, and I cannot do this without you.”
Peter smiled. He didn’t believe him. He was a tool, not a leader. But he would go. He would do anything for this man, even murder.
He just hoped it would all be worth it.