Jeremy Robinson - The Didymus Contingency

“But you’ve been shot!” protested David.

“It’s only a scratch and we don’t have time to play nurse! Now move it, old man!”

“Old man? You just try and keep up!”

Tom and David sprinted down the hill toward Bethany.

“Where are we going?” David asked as they ran. “Bethany’s too small; we’ll never lose him there!”

“We’re not going to Bethany.” Tom replied.

“Where then?”

“Jerusalem!”

David’s eyes widened. “Jerusalem? That’s three miles away!”

David looked over his shoulder. Roberts was still there, gaining on them slowly but surely. In front of him, David could see the walls of Jerusalem appearing over the hill. They were almost there. If there was more space between them, losing Roberts in the lower city would be no problem, but David knew that wasn’t part of Tom’s plan.

In fact, Tom had requested that they slow down a few times to let Roberts grow closer. They were in better shape then they expected. The three miles to Jerusalem passed quickly and they were able to carry on a conversation the entire way. At one point David even forgot they were being chased. Roberts was only fifty yards behind them, the distance an Olympic sprinter can cover in five seconds, the same distance a bullet could cover in under a second.

“We have to slow down again,” said Tom.

“Are you crazy? He’ll shoot us!”

“Once we get in the city he won’t want to make a scene. He’ll want to catch us someplace private,” Tom explained. “And we need him to see where we’re going.”

“I’m putting my faith in you,” David said, as he slowed his pace.

With a jerk of the neck, Tom looked at David. He didn’t like the way that sounded, but hadn’t the time to make a comment. Roberts had quickly closed to within twenty-five yards. Close enough.

Tom and David entered through the front gates of Jerusalem and merged into the congested streets, which were alive and loud today with the news of Jesus’s trial. Tom and David overheard statements of Jesus’s guilt, arguments of his fate and threats to his life. They ignored everything and continued toward the upper city, toward the temple.

They reached the upper city quickly. David wracked his mind to try to decipher Tom’s plan, but to no avail. They entered the temple with Roberts only fifty feet back, well within shooting range. But the number of people wandering around the outer temple kept his gun hidden.

“Where are we going?” David demanded to know.

“Inside…” Tom replied.

David could see Tom was getting winded. This had better end soon.

The pair entered the Court of the Gentiles, which was unusually placid for a Thursday. David surmised that Jesus’s trial must have been attracting the people’s attention, pausing their worship of God to kill him.

As they neared the entrance to the Court of Women, David noticed a sign above the door that he had never taken notice of before. He read it quickly as they passed beneath: No foreigner is allowed within the balustrades and embankment of the sanctuary. Whoever is caught will be personally responsible for his ensuing death. David smiled.

“Tom, you’re a genius,” David said, as they passed through the gates into the Court of the Women.

They ran across the Court of the Women, up the curved staircase and to the heavy bronze door at the Nicanor Gate. David and Tom pushed with all their strength to open the gate. Roberts had entered the Court of the Women and was running toward them at full speed.

David and Tom spilled into the Court of Israel. The seven Jewish men who were worshiping in the court shot annoyed glances at Tom and David, who had slammed the heavy bronze door behind them. Out of breath, Tom struggled to speak. “Quickly brothers…fetch the Levites! A foreigner has entered the inner temple…and wants to spill Jewish blood in the house of God!”

The Jewish men reacted at once, running toward the Court of the Priests, shouting for the Levites.

Tom and David were too tired to continue running and they knew help would soon arrive. They turned toward the bronze door, which had just finished closing behind Roberts. He was out of breath and looked supremely irritated. He walked toward them calmly, like a predator who knows its prey is trapped.

“You don’t have to do this, Roberts,” David said.

“You know my name. How nice for you,” Roberts said, as he continued forward.

Roberts pulled his knife out from under his robe.

“Leave now and we’ll let you live,” Tom said with confidence.

Roberts stopped walking. Tom couldn’t believe it had worked, but he then realized it wasn’t Tom’s command that had stalled Roberts’s advance. Roberts’s eyes were focused just beyond Tom.

The world spun as Tom turned around and came face to face with a massive Levite. The Levite held a grapefruit sized stone in his hand and his eyes were darting up and down Roberts’s body, taking snap shots of every detail: the blond crew cut, the knife’s unusual design, the shining object hanging on his wrist and that Roberts was taking the same mental images of the Levite. The two warriors sized each other up, both knowing what the other didn’t know was about to get him killed.

Roberts slowly reached into his robe. His fingers touched the butt of his gun. This would be over in seconds. Roberts took his eyes off the Levite for a split second and looked at David’s eyes, which were wide, but not staring at Roberts…he was staring…behind Roberts!

Roberts grabbed his gun and spun around. He fired two shots through his robe, which missed their marks. A second Levite, who had crept up behind Roberts raised his hand, which held a large stone. The Levite brought it down quickly on Roberts’s skull.

Falling to one knee, Roberts dropped his weapon. He clutched his knife and lunged at the Levite. Before Roberts could even swing the blade through the air, a second stone struck him between his spine and right shoulder blade. Roberts dropped the knife and fell to the ground again, but refused to scream in pain.

Roberts struggled to his feet again, glaring at the Levites, who had already picked up new stones. The seven Jewish men who had been worshiping stood behind the Levites, their hands armed with stones.

“You will be tried and executed by the Romans for breaking Jewish law,” said one of the Levites.

Roberts’s eyes twitched as blood from his head poured down his face and into his mouth. He looked at David and said through gritted teeth, “Don’t let them take my watch.”

Roberts removed the watch from his wrist and threw it at David as hard as he could. The watch landed on the stone floor, five feet from David. Roberts was obeying his orders to the end, protecting time, but his intentions to hurt David at the same time were clear to everyone present.

“No more!” shouted the bigger Levite. “Lay on the ground, now.”

Roberts’s grimaced in pain and spit at the Levite, who easily dodged the saliva-blood mixture. The spit flew several feet before landing on a tablet one of the men had been studying.

“He has spit on the Word of God!” shouted one of the men.

Roberts stood to run but was barely on his feet when the first of several stones pummeled his body, hurled by the Levites and Jewish men. Roberts staggered forward until a large stone hit his head, creating a sound like a breaking coconut. Roberts’s body went lax and flopped onto the stone floor.

“Quickly,” said one of the Levites, “remove his body before the Romans see what we have done.”

The seven Jewish men rushed forward and picked Roberts up. They carried his body away quickly, supervised by the two Levites. As the group exited into a side passageway, one of the Levites turned to Tom and David and said, “Well done, brothers. Your alert kept the house of God from being defiled by this man. God will reward your service.”