The Easter Betrayal

Easter Reflections: Faith, Friendship, and a Loyal Companion

The night air hung thick with the scent of city streets and something unspoken. Justin Case tightened his grip on his coffee cup, staring at the cryptic message blinking on his phone screen. “One of you will betray me.” The words, stark against the glow, felt more than just a warning—it was a prophecy.

Notcho Dog, his golden retriever, nudged his knee, sensing his unease.

Justin had seen all sorts of oddities in his job as a Termination Agent for Tin Can Communications, a role that mostly involved cutting off outdated services—but this, this was something else. His crew—Lawson D. Woods, Moose, Bo & Ty Knott, and Hugo First—had gathered at their usual haunt, a retro diner called Olive’s, unaware of the storm brewing.

As the group laughed over burgers and banter, Justin read the message aloud. Silence took over the table.

“Sounds biblical,” Moose muttered, swirling his soda.

“It’s straight out of the Last Supper,” Lawson said, rubbing his chin. “Passover, bread and wine, betrayal—it’s the whole scene from Matthew.”

Bo Knott leaned forward, lowering his voice. “So, what does this mean for us?”

Justin wasn’t sure. Was it a prank, a warning, or something bigger? Notcho let out a low whimper, eyes fixed on the entrance.

Then, the doors swung open. A man stepped inside—one Justin recognized from the company. His name was Jude Simon, an ambitious tech liaison whose reputation for cutthroat deals preceded him.

Justin’s heart hammered as Jude made his way toward their table, a slick grin playing on his face. “I figured you all would be here.”

“What do you want, Jude?” Hugo First asked.

Jude slid into the seat opposite Justin. “You’re in deep, Case.”

Justin raised an eyebrow. “Deep in what?”

Jude leaned closer. “The company’s been covering things up. What you thought was routine termination work? It’s bigger than that.”

Notcho let out a growl, his golden fur bristling.

“What exactly are you saying?” Justin pressed.

Jude smirked. “Tonight’s the night someone sells you out.”

The tension at the table thickened. The words echoed through Justin’s mind: “One of you will betray me.”

Justin Case kept his eyes locked on Jude Simon. The man had a way of speaking in riddles, but something about this felt different. Notcho Dog shifted at his feet, her ears cocked forward, sensing the tension.

Jude exhaled slowly, drumming his fingers on the table. “Tin Can Communications isn’t just pulling the plug on outdated accounts. They’re silencing people—people who know too much.”

Bo Knott leaned back, crossing his arms. “You expect us to believe you?”

Ty Knott, Bo’s twin brother, shot Jude a wary glance. “You’ve got a history of playing both sides.”

Jude smirked. “I always play to win.”

Justin fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Alright, cut to the chase. What does this have to do with me?”

Jude’s smirk vanished. “Tonight, someone you trust is going to sell you out.”

Notcho let out a low growl. “Oh great, another human drama unfolding. Betrayal, ominous warnings, biblical references—this is feeling suspiciously like the beginning of a movie where the dog doesn’t make it to the end. Let’s just hope I’m not the emotional support animal in this mess.” 

Moose shifted in his seat. “This is sounding way too biblical.”

“Exactly,” Lawson D. Woods said, adjusting his glasses. “Matthew 26—the Last Supper. Jesus knew someone was going to betray Him.”

Justin glanced down at his phone, the cryptic text message still glowing on the screen: “One of you will betray me.”

Hugo First sighed. “Look, Jude, if you’re just here to stir up trouble—”

Jude stood, sliding a piece of paper across the table. “This address. It’s where the final meeting is happening tonight. If you want answers, be there.”

Justin stared at the slip of paper. 7:30 PM. A downtown high-rise, nothing too flashy. But something about it felt wrong.

Notcho whined. Justin ran a hand over her golden fur, grounding himself. He had two choices—ignore this mess and pretend everything was business as usual, or walk straight into the unknown.

He looked up at his crew. “Well? Are we doing this?”

Bo and Ty exchanged glances.

Moose cracked his knuckles.

Lawson adjusted his jacket.

Hugo let out a chuckle. “You even need to ask?”

Justin folded the paper and slipped it into his pocket. “Alright then. Let’s move.”

As the team got up from the table, Justin felt the weight of the moment settle over him. Someone was going to betray him. Just like the scripture.

The night was far from over.

Justin Case adjusted his jacket as he stepped out into the chilly night air. The slip of paper in his pocket felt heavier than it should have. Beside him, Notcho trotted forward, her ears flicking at every sudden noise. She was always tuned in—always sensing what others missed.

His crew followed close behind, their footsteps echoing in the quiet streets.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Bo Knott muttered.

Ty Knott snorted. “Since when do we have good ideas?”

Hugo First chuckled. “Fair point.”

They arrived at the downtown high-rise, its glass exterior gleaming under the streetlights. Justin felt his pulse quicken. Jude’s warning still rang in his ears—“Tonight, someone will betray you.”

Notcho pressed against Justin’s leg and thought to herself, because no one else was listening, “Oh, fantastic. Betrayal is in the air, the humans are tense, and here I am—golden and gorgeous—stuck in the middle of it. I swear, if this turns into one of those ‘dramatic rooftop showdowns,’ someone better have treats waiting for me at the bottom.”

“Easy, girl,” he murmured, running a reassuring hand over her golden fur. She wasn’t just a companion—she was his constant, his unwavering sense of trust in a world full of secrets.

Inside, the building was eerily quiet. A single elevator stood at the end of the corridor. Justin pressed the button.

A chime.

The doors slid open.

They stepped in, the small space amplifying their unease. Lawson D. Woods glanced at the numbered buttons, then turned to Justin. “What floor?”

Justin stared at the slip of paper. 7:30 PM. Floor 26.

With a slow exhale, he hit the button.

As the elevator ascended, silence gripped the group. Notcho stood alert, her posture stiff.

When the doors finally opened, they were met with an empty hallway.

Except—no. Not empty.

Jude Simon stood at the far end, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable.

Justin stepped forward. “Alright, Jude. We’re here.”

Jude’s smirk returned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You came. Brave or foolish—I haven’t decided yet.”

Lawson crossed his arms. “Enough games.”

Jude tilted his head. “You want answers?”

Notcho let out a sharp bark, thinking, “Did you see that? There was a slight hitch in his git-along. Am I the only one paying attention?” Justin caught it—the hesitation in Jude’s stance. The flicker of unease.

Then, footsteps.

Behind them.

Before Justin could turn, the betrayal unfolded.

A voice—sharp, familiar—cut through the air.

“I’m sorry, mate.”

Justin whipped around.

Hugh G. Bear.

He stood with a phone in hand, a call already in progress.

Justin’s heart sank.

“You?”

Bear’s expression was tight with regret. “I didn’t have a choice.”

Notcho growled, stepping protectively in front of Justin as she thought, “Oh, fantastic, another tense human stare-down, another betrayal crisis. Let me guess—someone is about to make a dramatic speech about trust? Great, I’ll be over here, making sure nobody gets any funny ideas about sneaking off without me... or my treats.”

Jude sighed. “Well. That makes things easier.”

Justin clenched his fists. This wasn’t just about the company anymore. This was about loyalty. About trust—broken.

But it wasn’t over yet.

Justin Case kept his stance firm, locking eyes with Bear. There were a hundred things he wanted to say, but the weight of betrayal sat too heavily on his chest.

“I trusted you,” Justin muttered.

Bear clenched his jaw. “It’s not what you think.”

“Really?” Lawson D. Woods asked, stepping forward. “Because it looks exactly like betrayal.”

Jude Simon exhaled with exaggerated patience, like a man who’d already won. “Oh, come on, Case. You should have seen this coming.”

Notcho let out a sharp bark, her golden fur bristling. “Oh, fantastic, a smirking human who thinks he’s already won? Yeah, that’s not suspicious at all. If someone could kindly inform me how I always end up in the middle of these dramatic showdowns, that’d be great. Until then, I’ll just keep barking like I know exactly what’s going on.” She stood between Justin and Bear, her presence unwavering. She wasn’t just sensing the tension—she was standing guard.

Justin’s thoughts raced. Bear had always been the wildcard of their group—rough around the edges, fiercely loyal, but keenly interested in status and climbing the corporate ladder. And now, his ambition had led them here.

Bear took a slow step forward, lowering his voice. “I didn’t have a choice.”

Justin shook his head. “There’s always a choice.”

Jude smirked. “This isn’t personal, Case. It’s business. Tin Can Communications has been covering tracks for years—deleting records, erasing people who ask too many questions. You? You’re just another loose end.”

Ty Knott scoffed. “You really expect us to roll over?”

Bo Knott cracked his knuckles. “Not happening.”

Hugo First remained quiet, but his stance was set, ready for whatever was about to happen.

Jude sighed. “I was hoping you’d see reason. Guess not.”

The air shifted.

The sound of boots against marble.

Security.

Two men stepped into the hallway—corporate muscle, suits tailored, weapons holstered but visible.

Justin’s pulse quickened. He knew how these types operated—clean, efficient, with no regard for the people in their way.

Notcho growled low in her throat. “Oh, fantastic, matching suits, heavy boots, and that unmistakable ‘I’m here to intimidate’ energy. Classic. If these guys think they can out growl me, they’ve got another thing coming. Also, if this turns into a chase scene, I hope someone remembered to bring snacks.”

Justin squared his shoulders. “You made one mistake, Jude.”

Jude raised an eyebrow. “Enlighten me.”

Justin smiled—not the kind that held humour, but the kind that signalled a man who wasn’t going down easily.

“You underestimated me.”

And then, chaos.

Ty Knott moved first, knocking one of the guards off balance. Bo followed, blocking the second. Lawson was already reaching for something in his jacket—probably a trick up his sleeve.

Hugo First tackled Bear, who barely had time to react.

Justin grabbed Notcho’s collar and whispered, “Run.”

She darted past him, slipping through the commotion, heading for the exit.

Justin turned back just in time to block a punch aimed at his ribs.

Jude watched, amused, as if it were all theatre.

Bear struggled against Hugo First’s grip. “Listen to me—there’s more to this than you know!”

Justin hesitated for a fraction of a second.

Enough for Bear to break free.

Enough for Jude to reach into his pocket.

And enough for Notcho to return, racing straight for Jude.

Her teeth sank into his sleeve, yanking him off balance.

Justin didn’t waste time. He lunged, pinning Jude against the wall, twisting his arm until he dropped whatever was in his grip. A phone.

It clattered onto the floor.

The screen flashed with a message.

“It is done.”

Justin’s stomach dropped.

This wasn’t over.

Justin Case barely had time to register the message flashing on the fallen phone screen. “It is done.”

The words sent a chill through him.

Notcho stood guard beside him, her golden fur bristling as she eyed the men in suits—corporate muscle sent to clean up whatever Tin Can Communications didn’t want getting out.

The fight still raged around him. Bo and Ty Knott held their own against the guards. Lawson D. Woods had something up his sleeve—he always did. And Jude Simon? He was watching, smirking, waiting for the inevitable.

Then, Justin turned.

Hugh G. Bear.

His friend. His brother-from-another-mother.

And the betrayer.

The realization hit like a punch to the gut.

Hugh had been quiet all night, standing just behind Justin, his stance unreadable. But now, in the chaos, his expression was clear—apologetic, resigned, but certain.

Justin swallowed hard. “It was you.”

Hugh exhaled slowly. “I didn’t have a choice.”

The words tasted bitter. Justin had heard them before—from people caught in situations they couldn’t control, from those who let loyalty bend under pressure.

Notcho growled, stepping protectively in front of Justin.

“I would’ve warned you if I could,” Hugh said, voice low. “But this goes deeper than us. The company—it’s bigger than we realized.”

Justin’s hands curled into fists. “You could’ve told me.”

Hugh nodded, but there was no changing what had already been set in motion.

Jude Simon stepped forward, adjusting his cuffs. “Well, Case, I’d love to say I’m surprised, but really—I expected this.”

Justin kept his breath steady. This wasn’t just about the company anymore. This was about trust—fractured, broken, perhaps beyond repair.

The security team shifted, preparing to move in.

Justin had to act fast.

And then, Notcho lunged.

Not toward Hugh. Not toward Justin. But toward the phone on the floor.

Her teeth clamped onto it, yanking it back, and with one swift motion, she bolted, racing down the hallway toward the exit.

Justin didn’t hesitate. “Run!”

His crew moved. Ty and Bo Knott shoved the guards aside. Lawson D. Woods pulled a small device from his jacket—something that let out a piercing, disorienting screech.

Hugo First grabbed Justin’s arm. “We need to go. Now.”

Justin turned back once.

Hugh G. Bear stood motionless, watching as they fled.

Justin didn’t know if he’d ever trust him again.

But right now, survival came first.

They ran.

Moose had been watching.

Watching the tension build, watching Justin piece together the truth, watching Hugh G. Bear try—and fail—to justify his betrayal.

But mostly, he’d been watching Jude Simon.

Moose was a man of few words, but when things went sideways, he was the one who made sure they didn’t spiral out of control. And tonight, he knew something wasn’t adding up.

As the fight erupted, Moose didn’t dive into the chaos like the others. Instead, he kept an eye on Jude. The man had been too confident, too composed.

And then, Moose saw it.

Jude wasn’t just standing back for the spectacle—he was reaching into his jacket.

Without hesitation, Moose moved.

A single, decisive step.

Jude barely had time to react before Moose grabbed him by the wrist, twisting hard enough to make him drop whatever he’d been reaching for.

A sleek, black USB drive hit the ground.

Moose stared at it for half a second before stomping his boot down, cutting off any chance Jude had of retrieving it.

Jude hissed through his teeth. “You have no idea what you’ve just done.”

Moose gave a slow, deliberate shrug. “I usually don’t.”

Notcho, still clutching the stolen phone in her mouth, flicked her ears toward Moose—almost like she approved. “Oh, great. I’m now officially an accomplice in whatever chaos is unfolding. If anyone asks, I was just an innocent bystander who happened to steal a phone. I should start charging for my services—bodyguard, betrayal detector, and now, unwilling participant in corporate drama? I better be getting steak for this.”

Justin, halfway to the exit, turned back just in time to see the exchange. “Moose!”

Moose glanced up. He had two choices: leave the USB drive or take it.

He took it.

With one swift motion, he snatched it up, pocketing it before Jude could protest.

The guards were already regrouping, and Moose knew he didn’t have time to stick around.

He ran.

Joining the others, slipping through the chaos, following Notcho’s lead toward the unknown.

But as he sprinted down the hallway, one thought stayed with him.

Whatever was on that drive—whatever Jude had been so desperate to keep—was the key to everything.

And Moose had it.

Moose ran, gripping the USB drive in his pocket like it was his life’s savings.

His glasses—always on the brink of sliding off—bounced precariously on the bridge of his nose as he sprinted through the building’s corridor. Justin, Notcho, and the others were ahead of him, pushing toward the exit. But Moose knew something they didn’t.

“You guys realize,” he puffed between strides, “that in 1922, the Toronto St. Patricks won the Stanley Cup before changing their name to the Maple Leafs?”

Bo Knott shot him a look. “Moose. Focus.”

“I am focusing,” Moose protested. “I just process things differently.”

Ty Knott huffed. “What exactly are you processing?”

“The probability of us making it out without injuries? Not great.” Moose adjusted his slipping glasses. “And that’s before we factor in pursuit speed, possible interference, and the fact that Hugh G. Bear probably regrets his choices.”

Justin threw a glance behind them. Sure enough, Hugh stood frozen in place, watching them flee, conflicted—but he wasn’t stopping them.

Notcho darted ahead, the stolen phone still clamped in her jaws. The message on the screen—“It is done.”—still burned in Justin’s mind.

“What is done?” Lawson D. Woods asked, breathless as they neared the exit.

Moose had a theory, of course. He always had theories.

But right now, they had bigger problems.

The doors burst open as they reached the street, city lights blurring with adrenaline.

“We need a plan,” Hugo First said.

“Already working on it,” Moose replied. His brain wasn’t just filled with trivia—it was a machine, constantly running calculations, measuring probabilities, anticipating outcomes.

And right now?

The USB drive in his pocket mattered more than anything.

If it contained what he thought it did, Hugh’s betrayal wasn’t the biggest problem.

Because whatever was on it, whatever Jude Simon had been so desperate to keep, was about to change everything.

The cold night air hit them as they dashed onto the street, Notcho leading the charge with the stolen phone still clenched in her jaws.

“Alright, now what?” Ty Knott panted, hands on his knees.

Moose fumbled with his glasses, shoving them up his nose for the tenth time that evening. “Statistically speaking, we should disappear. Run. Evade detection.”

Justin Case wasn’t about to do that.

He turned toward Moose. “That USB drive—you still have it?”

Moose nodded, his mind already working through the numbers. “Probability says whatever’s on it is worth enough for Jude Simon to fight for it. That means information. That means leverage.”

Lawson D. Woods cracked his knuckles. “I say we find out what’s on it.”

They moved fast. A nearby café—the kind that stayed open late and didn’t ask questions—became their impromptu headquarters.

Moose pulled out the USB drive, wiping his fingers on his sweater before plugging it into his laptop. His glasses slipped again, but he ignored them, too focused.

Files appeared.

Hundreds of them.

Justin leaned over his shoulder. “What are we looking at?”

Moose scrolled, scanning faster than anyone could keep up. “Records. Termination orders. Tin Can Communications has been deleting more than just outdated accounts.”

Hugo First frowned. “What do you mean?”

Moose swallowed hard. “People.”

Justin stiffened.

Notcho let out a quiet whimper, sensing the energy shift. “Oh, fantastic, the humans are panicking over glowing squares again. I have no idea what it says, but judging by their expressions, it's either the end of the world or really bad financial news. Either way, I’m sensing this is a ‘do not wag tail’ moment.”

Moose clicked on one of the files—Jude Simon’s name sat in the header, approving an order. Then another. And another. A pattern.

Bo Knott exhaled sharply. “So they weren’t just cutting services. They were cutting people out of existence.”

Ty Knott folded his arms. “This goes all the way up.”

Justin clenched his fists. “And Hugh G. Bear knew.”

The betrayal burned all over again.

Notcho pressed against Justin’s leg, offering silent comfort.

Lawson D. Woods tapped the screen. “We have what we need. Now what?”

Justin took a deep breath. “Now? We end it.”

Justin Case sat in the dimly lit café, his crew gathered around the laptop as Moose scrolled through the files, his glasses slipping down his nose with every frantic movement.

“They’ve been erasing people,” Moose muttered. “Not just accounts—actual identities.”

Justin exhaled slowly, rubbing Notcho’s fur as she rested her head on his lap. The faithful retriever had done her job—retrieving the stolen phone—but now, she sensed the weight of the moment.

Lawson D. Woods leaned forward. “We can’t keep this to ourselves. If we do, it dies here.”

Ty Knott nodded. “We need to go public.”

Bo Knott frowned. “And risk them coming after us?”

“They already came after us,” Hugo First pointed out.

Justin knew the truth. What was on that USB drive was bigger than they were. Tin Can Communications had operated in the shadows for years, deleting records, eliminating loose ends, ensuring no one asked too many questions.

And now, Justin had the proof.

He tapped the table. “We need to make sure this gets out to secure sources; authorities who aren’t in their pocket.”

Notcho lifted her head, ears pricked. “Alright, humans, let’s think logically here—give the story to Mattock Diggs. The guy knows how to handle things. Meanwhile, I’ll be over here, pretending I don’t see the extremely ominous black car outside, because clearly, this is one of those ‘we’ve angered the wrong people’ moments; fantastic.”

Justin followed her gaze.

Outside the café window, a black car idled across the street.

Jude Simon was inside.

Watching. Waiting.

And then, his phone screen lit up with one last message.

“It is done.”

Justin took a deep breath.

This was it.

No running. No hiding.

Time to expose the truth.

Notcho wagged her tail once, just enough to signal that she was ready.

Justin smirked. “Let’s finish this.”

The café remained quiet, save for the faint hum of Moose’s laptop.

The files—termination orders, erased identities, the proof that Tin Can Communications had been wiping people out of existence—blinked on the screen, waiting for their fate.

Justin Case sat beside him, arms crossed, his mind racing. Across from them, Bo and Ty Knott, Lawson D. Woods, and Hugo First waited in tense silence.

Notcho rested at Justin’s feet, her brown eyes watching Moose carefully, as if she understood the weight of what was about to happen. She thought as loudly as she could, “Give the story to Mattock Diggs. Why is no one listening? I don’t have opposable thumbs, so unfortunately, I can’t email it myself. Instead, I’m left here, silently judging you while you sit in dramatic silence, making things way harder than they need to be.”

Moose adjusted his glasses, which had slipped to the tip of his nose for what felt like the hundredth time. “Alright,” he murmured. “Mattock Diggs is the only journalist who won’t bury this. He runs The Diggs Site. Blog, podcast, independent reporting—he won’t let this disappear.”

Justin nodded. “Send it.”

Moose hesitated for half a second.

Then, he moved.

His fingers flew across the keyboard, attaching the files, crafting the email.

Subject: Urgent—Proof of Corporate Erasure

Mattock, this is bigger than anything you have covered before. Tin Can Communications is not just terminating accounts—they are terminating people. The attached files prove it. Publish everything. —Moose

He hit Send.

The message disappeared into the ether, carrying the weight of everything they had uncovered.

And then, Notcho let out a deep sigh, resting her head on Justin’s lap. “Finally! Someone listened to me! Do you know how exhausting it is to telepathically scream, 'Send it to Diggs!' while everyone else broods dramatically? Honestly, I deserve an award for patience. But for now, I’ll settle for a well-earned nap.

It was done.

Now, the world would know.

And whatever came next, they were ready.

Disclaimer: The character Justin Case is a fictional individual and does not represent our Lord Jesus Christ in any way. The biblical theme in this story is intentional, woven into the narrative to enhance storytelling and spark readers' interest in exploring the Easter story as told in Matthew 26:17-30, which recounts the Last Supper and Jesus’ ultimate sacrifice.