Spencer was all smiles as he hung up the phone. Just like that, he had secured David’s position as lead scientist of the time travel unit. He was moving up in the world! Spencer giggled to himself and headed out the door for Receiving Area Alpha, eager to begin studying his priceless artifacts from the future.
Spencer was feeling too good to notice the voices of congratulations within his mind were not his own. “Good job! You’re so great! But we still have more to do. Yes. Much more work for us to do. Yes! Yes. The future awaits us.”
As Spencer left the room, two shadows followed him. After rounding the corner, the second shadow detached and moved down the hallway, toward Director Dwight’s meeting room.
Director George Dwight and Jake Parrish sat across from each other on plush leather chairs. The room was small and lit only from above. It was the kind of room perfect for a meeting such as this. Soundproof walls. No windows. No vents. No doors.
“Things haven’t gone exactly to plan, sir, but I think we have things under control now,” Jake said.
“How’s the throat?” George asked.
Jake rubbed his throat. It hurt like hell. “That woman can throw a punch.”
“And she’s as smart as she is strong, so don’t go assuming she’s out of the game just yet,” George said.
“Yes, sir.”
“What’s the status on our little friends?”
“Prepped and ready to go. We know where and when Sally and Roberts are, and with the onboard facial recognition software, the other two shouldn’t be too much more difficult to track down.”
“Has the poison been altered?”
“Of course, sir. The poison acts the same, but its kill time has been accelerated to a half hour. Sally will have little time to find them and administer the antidote. Of course, by then, it will be too late for all of them.”
“Excellent. What a regrettable mess this is. It’s a PR nightmare, really.”
“Spencer and a team are prepping to retrieve the bodies even as we speak. I think a helicopter crash would be a fitting way to dispose of the bodies.”
George leaned back with a smile. “You’re trying to make director.”
Jake smiled. “I believe we have an opening.”
“Get this done for me… Consider the position filled.”
Jake stood to his feet and headed for an empty wall. “Better have my door etched. This won’t take long.”
The wall whooshed open in front of Jake. He exited the bare room and turned to the right, his pace quickening with every step. The door closed silently behind him, leaving him alone in the cool hallway. George was a blind fool. Jake was far more than an assistant. He ran this company. He was in charge. As soon as he finished cleaning up George’s mess, he would apply himself to usurping his boss and taking this company to places of power never before dreamed of.
“Do you think it’s possible?” Jake asked himself aloud.
“We think so.” Jake answered.
“So do we!”
“Yes!”
“This is so fun!”
Tom laughed loudly at Matthew’s impression of a Pharisee. It was uncanny. Jesus and the twelve had been dining together in a room they had rented for the night. Rarely did they eat a meal so good that wasn’t given to them for free. This meal was different, it was bought and paid for and the men and women who served them were not being charitable. They were being paid. This wasn’t just another meal. It was formal, as formal as a meal could be when you’re all lying around a table, digging into the same piles of food with shards of ancient Pita bread.
How the meal had begun was even stranger. Jesus had washed all their feet. Tom had grown used to having his feet washed by servants; it was customary here in the past where everyone wore sandals and ate while reclining, placing their dusty feet precariously close to the food. But Tom had never had his feet washed by another disciple, let alone Jesus. He was amazed at how humbling an experience it was.
But the washing of Tom’s feet was nothing compared to what Jesus did next. He took some bread and some wine, said something about how it was his blood and flesh and then they all ate it. It took Tom, and he imagined everyone else, some time to shake the feeling that this was Jesus’s way of saying goodbye. Tom wished David were here to explain what was happening.
The fact that David wasn’t present caused Tom some distress at first because of the recent serious mood. David was waiting outside, eating by himself. Jesus and David had agreed that this meal was for the disciples’ benefit alone. But Tom didn’t feel up to any big surprises. He could usually judge from David’s facial expressions when something good or bad was about to happen, but David wasn’t there. Tom did his best to settle in and forget about what might or might not happen. So far, the meal had gone as they usually did. Matthew told jokes. Everyone laughed.
Tom had been sitting next to the disciple named John, who was likable enough, but who Tom had never gotten to know very well. The two had bonded over dinner as people who eat and joke together sometimes do. There were twelve disciples after all, and all were almost always busy. Groups of friends had formed among the disciples and getting to know everyone hadn’t been the priority over the past few years. But now Tom wondered if he hadn’t been missing out on something.
John was smart. Damn smart, and Tom enjoyed hearing John’s theories on everything from how birds fly to what craters on the moon were. What impressed Tom the most was that John was often close to the mark. If he hadn’t become a disciple of Jesus, John might well have been the world’s first Da Vinci.
Tom looked up from his food and saw Judas re-enter the room. He had been fidgety and nervous all night. Tom decided to ask Judas what was wrong in the morning. Right now, he was having too much fun and Judas was busy ordering food and paying servants.
“Friends, brothers, a moment please,” Jesus said, as he stood up.
The room fell silent and all eyes were on Jesus. “Now that you’re all here, there is something I need to tell you…something I need to tell you now so that when it happens, you will believe what I have taught you. You might not believe what I’m about to say, but be assured, it is the truth… One of you…will betray me.”
Everyone stopped breathing. The disciples looked at each other. Was he serious? Who was he talking about?
A rumble of discomfort shot through Tom’s stomach. He had almost betrayed Jesus. Did that count? Was Jesus talking about him? Or was it Judas? He knew history believed Judas to be the betrayer of Jesus, but it didn’t seem remotely possible. Tom looked for Judas and found him talking to a servant, not even paying attention at the moment. The man had proven to be a good friend, not a killer.
Peter, who was sitting next to John, who was sitting next to Jesus, nudged John with his bony elbow. “Ask him who it is.”
John nodded and turned to Jesus, “Who betrays you? Tell us, which one of us will it be?”
There was one last piece of bread on the table. Jesus picked it up. “I will give this bread to the one who betrays me after I have dipped it in the oil.”
Jesus took the bread and dipped it in a small dish of olive oil, garlic and assorted spices. Just then, Judas, who had been all but oblivious to the conversation, as he was talking to a servant about money, leaned down to Jesus’s ear and said, “We’re out of bread, should I go purchase some more?”
Jesus turned to Judas and replied, “You are kind to offer, but you have not eaten yet. Take this bread to fill your stomach.”
Judas took the bread. “Thank you.”
“Do what you are about to do quickly,” Jesus said. “Time is running out.”
