“You’re just upset that I was right,” said Shaun as Jenny came back to the table in the beer tent with two pints.
“You are so lucky she did have a name or two for you,” said Jenny as she sat next to him, “and that she’d pointed them out to you.”
“And if she didn’t, would you have shot her? Or me, for that matter?”
“The only problem I’d see?”
“Yeah?” Shaun asked.
“Figuring out which of you I’d shoot first.”
“And that’s what I love about you,” said Shaun as he opened his flask and got ready to pour some of its contents in his beer.
“What do you love about me?” Jenny asked as she put her thumb over the flask’s mouth to keep him from fortifying his drink.
“An unrelenting killer instinct that makes you good to have in a fight. That makes us a good team.”
“Which needs you on your game right now. You can go for harder stuff after we finish meeting with the Blood-and-Wine’s crew.”
Just as Shaun put his flask back, a man with shoulder length hair, matching the color of his beard down to his chest, came to the table and sat with them. “I hear from Mary Margaret that you were looking to speak with me,” he said, his voice almost too soft for the beer tent.
“Shaun O’Connell, and this is my associ-”
“Jennifer DiNapoli,” he interrupted with a raised hand. “Your reputations precede you. I am Peter Simon, and I speak for the Blood-and-Wine crew.”
“So how long have you been on the account, Pete?”
“Over seven months now.”
“Funny,” said Jenny, “We haven’t run into you too much here. I’d have thought over the last few months we’d have encountered each other at Broadway Market more often.”
“Our efforts are less ambitious than yours. What we get from our efforts over and above necessary expenses, we give to those less fortunate than us.”
“Sort of like Robin Hood.”
“We go with a much older example,” said Peter. “We take His word to heart, ‘If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in Heaven. Then come, follow me,’ and try to live up to that.”
Jenny and Shaun stared at Peter Simon for a few seconds before Jenny replied, “I see, um… Is it, uh, safe to say there’s something we need to know before we go forward?”
“How do you mean?” Peter asked while a puzzled look crossed Shaun’s face.
“Well, I mean, in terms of… How do I put this… Screw it: are you pacifists?”
“Ah, I see. We find that having the appearance of potential violence without needing to spill blood does do wonders.”
“And when that doesn’t work?” Jenny asked.
“We try not to take lives if we can, during our efforts to persuade others to allow us to help the poor. Of course, when we have been fired upon first, then we do what needs to be done for our lives.”
“I see,” said Shaun. “And how much ministry do your efforts get you?”
“We do what we can, but even when it seems like we’ve done nothing there’s still solace in that.”
“And what’s the end game here? How’d you end up doing what you’re doing?”
“Funny you should call it the end game,” said Peter. “We do it because we believe that the end is very much upon us, and that we need to do a lot to make up for our past ways.”
“I see,” said Jenny.
“If we can do what we can now, in what little time we have left, by any means possible, perhaps all the sins we committed, all the wasted living our parents and grandparents did as God’s earth was ravaged by them, those can be forgiven above and taken into account when the Throne of God appears.”
Jenny’s eyes went back and forth between Shaun and Peter, wondering how this was going to end up…
All content Copyright © 2012 James Ryan