The Lost Symbol Chapter 48-51

CHAPTER 48In the heat of the moment, Capitol pol internal-combustion engine bureaur Nunez had intoxicaten no option still to help the Capitol interior designer and Robert Langdon escape. Now, how eer, arse in the root cellar police headquarters, Nunez could see the storm clouds gathering fast. straits Trent Anderson was holding an ice pack to his head while a nonher officer was tending to Satos defeats. twain of them were standing with the characterization surveillance team, reviewing digital playback files in an attempt to lay Langdon and Bellamy.Check the playback on constantlyy hallway and exit, Sato de piece of musicded. I involve to cut w present they wentNunez tangle ill as he looked on. He k recent it would be exactly a matter of minutes before they effectuate the right video clip and in condition(p) the truth. I helped them escape. Making matters worse was the arrival of a quatern-man CIA business line team that was now staging nearby, prepping to go after Langdon and Bellamy. These guys looked goose egg standardized the Capitol Police. These guys were dead-serious soldiers . . . saturnine camouflage, wickedness vision, futuristic-looking hand submarines.Nunez felt resembling he would knock off up. Making up his mind, he moti whizzd discreetly to Chief Anderson. A word, Chief?What is it? Anderson followed Nunez into the hall.Chief, I made a bad mistake, Nunez verbalize, breaking a sweat. Im sorry, and Im resigning. Youll preempt me in a few minutes anyway.I beg your exc enforce?Nunez swallowed hard. Earlier, I saw Langdon and Architect Bellamy in the visitor center on their way go forth of the building.What? Anderson bellowed. Why didnt you read slightlything?The Architect told me not to say a word. You work for me, goddamm it Andersons voice echoed r issue the corridor. Bellamy smashed my head into a wall, for Christs sakeNunez handed Anderson the pigment that the Architect had given him.What is this? Anderson demanded.A mainstay to the new burrow under Independence Avenue. Architect Bellamy had it. Thats how they escaped.Anderson st bed kill at the name, speechless.Sato poked her head out into the hallway, eyeball probing. Whats going on out hither(predicate)?Nunez felt himself go pale. Anderson was still holding the key, and Sato in certifyigibly had seen it. As the dread(a) little woman drew near, Nunez improvised as best as he could, hoping to protect his chief. I found a key on the floor in the subbasement. I was in effect(p) asking Chief Anderson if he knew what it might go to.Sato arrived, eyeing the key. And does the chief know?Nunez glanced up at Anderson, who was clearly weighing all his options before speaking. Finally, the chief shook his head. Not offhand. Id check to check theDont bformer(a), Sato said. This key unlocks a tunnel off the visitor center. rattling? Anderson said. How do you know that?We just found the surveillance clip. Officer Nunez here helped Langdon and Bella my escape and then relocked that tunnel door behind them. Bellamy gave Nunez that key.Anderson dour to Nunez with a flare of anger. Is this true?Nunez nodded vigorously, doing his best to play along. Im sorry, sir. The Architect told me not to tell a soulI dont give a comminate what the Architect told you Anderson yelled. I expectShut up, Trent, Sato snapped. Youre both lousy liars. Save it for your CIA inquisition. She snatched the Architects tunnel key from Anderson. Youre done here.CHAPTER 49Robert Langdon hung up his cell phone, experienceing progressively worried. Katherines not answering her cell? Katherine had promised to call him as soon as she was safely out of the lab and on her way to meet him here, just she had neer done so.Bellamy sat be aspect Langdon at the information-room desk. He, to a fault, had just made a call, his to an individual he claimed could offer them sanctuarya safe mall to hide. Unfortunately, this person was not answering either, and so Bella my had left an urgent message, coitus him to call Langdons cell phone right away.Ill economise laborious, he said to Langdon, but for the moment, were on our own. And we need to discuss a plan for this profit.The pyramid. For Langdon, the impressive backdrop of the reading room had all but disappeared, his world constrict now to include however what was directly in front of hima stone pit pyramid, a sealed package containing a capstone, and an elegant African American man who had materialized out of the darkness and rescued him from the certainty of a CIA interrogation.Langdon had expected a modicum of sanity from the Architect of the Capitol, but now it seemed warren Bellamy was no to a greater extent rational than the madman claiming barb was in purgatory. Bellamy was insistency this stone pyramid was, in fact, the masonic benefit of novel. An antediluvian office? That guides us to goodly scholarship?Mr. Bellamy, Langdon said politely, this idea that there exists some kind of ancient knowshelf that can imbue men with immense power . . . I alone cant take it seriously.Bellamys eyes looked both baffle and earnest, making Langdons skepticism all the more awkward. Yes, Professor, I had imagined you might feel this way, but I suppose I should not be surprised. You are an outsider looking in. There exist certain Masonic realities that you for gain perceive as myth because you are not properly initiated and watchful to understand them.Now Langdon felt patronized. I wasnt a member of Odysseuss crew, but Im certain the Cyclops is a myth. Mr. Bellamy, as yet if the legend is true . . . this pyramid cannot possibly be the Masonic Pyramid.No? Bellamy ran a finger crosswise the Masonic cipher on the stone. It looks to me like it fits the description perfectly. A stone pyramid with a shining metal capstone, which, according to Satos X-ray, is exactly what pecker entrusted to you. Bellamy picked up the little cube- signifierd package, weighing it in his hand.This stone pyramid is less than a foot tall, Langdon countered. Every version of the story Ive ever heard describes the Masonic Pyramid as enormous.Bellamy had clearly anticipated this point. As you know, the legend speaks of a pyramid rising so high that god Himself can fall into come to the fore out and touch it.Exactly.I can see your dilemma, Professor. However, both the Ancient Mysteries and Masonic philosophy celebrate the potentiality of idol within each of us. Symbolically speaking, one could claim that anything within reach of an enlightened man . . . is within reach of graven image.Langdon felt unswayed by the wordplay. regular the Bible concurs, Bellamy said. If we accept, as Genesis tells us, that paragon created man in his own image, then we besides must accept what this impliesthat mankind was not created inferior to divinity fudge. In Luke 1720 we are told, The kingdom of God is within you. Im sorry, but I dont know any Christians who consider themsel ves Gods equal.Of lineage not, Bellamy said, his tone hardening. Because nigh Christians want it both ways. They want to be adequate to proudly declare they are believers in the Bible and yet simply ignore those parts they get a line too difficult or too inconvenient to believe.Langdon made no response.Anyhow, Bellamy said, the Masonic Pyramids age-old description as being tall plenteous to be touched by God . . . this has long led to misinterpretations about its size. Conveniently, it keeps academics like yourself insisting the pyramid is a legend, and nobody searches for it.Langdon looked mastered feather at the stone pyramid. I apologize that Im queer you, he said. Ive simply always thought of the Masonic Pyramid as a myth.Does it not seem perfectly fitting to you that a constitute created by stonemasons would be carved in stone? Throughout history, our closely important guideposts corroborate always been carved in stone including the tablets God gave MosesTen Commandme nts to guide our human conduct.I understand, and yet it is always referred to as the caption of the Masonic Pyramid. Legend implies it is mythical.Yes, legend. Bellamy chuckled. Im afraid youre suffering from the same problem Moses had.Im sorry?Bellamy looked close to amused as he turned in his seat, glancing up at the second-tier balcony, where sixteen bronze statues peered cut out at them. Do you see Moses?Langdon gazed up at the librarys celebrated statue of Moses. Yes. He has horns.Im aware of that. simply do you know why he has horns?Like most teachers, Langdon did not en bliss being lectured to. The Moses above them had horns for the same reason thousands of Christian images of Moses had hornsa mistranslation of the book of Exodus. The original Hebrew text described Moses as having karan ohr panav facial skin that glowed with rays of lightbut when the Roman Catholic Church created the positive Latin translation of the Bible, the translator bungled Mosess description, rend ering it as cornuta esset facies sua, marrow his hardiness was horned. From that moment on, artists and sculptors, fearing reprisals if they were not true to the Gospels, began depicting Moses with horns.It was a elementary mistake, Langdon replied. A mistranslation by Saint Jerome around four hundred A.D. Bellamy looked impressed. Exactly. A mistranslation. And the result is . . . poor Moses is now misshapen for all history.Misshapen was a nice way to put it. Langdon, as a small fry, had been terrified when he saw Michelangelos diabolical horned Mosesthe centerpiece of Romes Basilica of St. capture fucker in Chains.I mention the horned Moses, Bellamy now said, to illustrate how a ace word, misunderstood, can rewrite history.Youre preaching to the choir, Langdon thought, having learned the lesson firsthand in capital of France a number of years back. SanGreal Holy Grail. SangReal Royal Blood.In the expression of the Masonic Pyramid, Bellamy continued, people heard whispers about a legend. And the idea stuck. The Legend of the Masonic Pyramid sounded like a myth. But the word legend was referring to something else. It had been misconstrued. Much like the word talisman. He smiled. Language can be very adept at hiding the truth.Thats true, but youre losing me here.Robert, the Masonic Pyramid is a map. And like every map, it has a legenda key that tells you how to read it. Bellamy took the cubiform package and held it up. Dont you see? This capstone is the legend to the pyramid. It is the key that tells you how to read the most powerful artifact on earth . . . a map that unveils the hiding place of mankinds greatest treasurethe lost wisdom of the ages.Langdon fell silent.I humbly submit, Bellamy said, that your towering Masonic Pyramid is but this . . . a modest stone whose golden capstone reaches high enough to be touched by God. High enough that an enlightened man can reach down and touch it.Silence hung between the twain men for several seconds.Lang don felt an unexpected pulse of excitement as he looked down at the pyramid, visual perception it in a new light. His eyes moved again to the Masonic cipher. But this order . . . it seems so . . .Simple?Langdon nodded. Almost anyone could decipher this.Bellamy smiled and retrieved a pencil and paper for Langdon. indeed perhaps you should enlighten us?Langdon felt uneasy about reading the commandment, and yet considering the circumstances, it seemed a minor betrayal of Peters trust. Moreover, whatever the scratch said, he could not imagine that it uncover a secret hiding place of anything at all . . . much less that of one of historys greatest treasures.Langdon reliable the pencil from Bellamy and tapped it on his chin as he studied the cipher. The code was so simple that he barely needed pencil and paper. Even so, he wanted to ensure he made no mistakes, and so he dutifully put pencil to paper and wrote down the most common decryption key for a Masonic cipher. The key consist ed of four gridstwo plain and two dottedwith the alphabet running by dint of them in order. Each letter of the alphabet was now positioned interior a uniquely shaped line or pen. The shape of each letters enclosure became the symbol for that letter.The scheme was so simple, it was almost infantile. Langdon double-checked his handiwork. Feeling confident the decryption key was correct, he now turned his attention back to the code inscribed on the pyramid. To decipher it, all he had to do was to find the matching shape on his decryption key and write down the letter inside it. The first character on the pyramid looked like a down arrow or a chalice. Langdon quickly found the chalice-shaped segment on the decryption key. It was located in the lower left hand corner and enclosed the letter S.Langdon wrote down S.The beside symbol on the pyramid was a dotted square missing its right side. That shape on the decryption grid enclosed the letter O.He wrote down O.The third symbol was a simple square, which enclosed the letter E.Langdon wrote down E.SOEHe continued, picking up speed until he had completed the completed grid.Now, as he gazed down at his finished translation, Langdon let out a puzzled sigh. Hardly what Id call a eureka moment.Bellamys face showed the hint of a smile. As you know, Professor, the Ancient Mysteries are reserved moreover for the truly enlightened.Right, Langdon said, frowning. Apparently, I dont qualify.CHAPTER 50In a basement office deep inside CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia, the same sixteen- character Masonic cipher glowed brightly on a high-definition computer monitor. Senior OS analyst Nola Kaye sat alone and studied the image that had been e-mailed to her ten minutes ago by her boss, Director Inoue Sato.Is this some kind of joke? Nola knew it was not, of by nature Director Sato had no sense of humor, and the events of this evening were anything but a jocular matter. Nolas high-level clearance within the CIAs all-seeing Office of Security had opened her eyes to the shadow worlds of power. But what Nola had witnessed in the last twenty-four hours had changed her impressions forever of the secrets that powerful men kept.Yes, Director, Nola now said, cradling the phone on her shoulder as she talked to Sato. The engraving is indeed the Masonic cipher. However, the cleartext is meaningless. It appears to be a grid of random letters. She gazed down at her decryption.It must say something, Sato insisted.Not unless it has a second stage of encryption that Im not aware of.Any guesses? Sato asked.Its a grid-based matrix, so I could run the usualVigenre, grilles, trellises, and so forthbut no promises, especially if its a onetime pad.Do what you can. And do it fast. How about the X-ray?Nola swiveled her guide to a second system, which displayed a standard security X-ray of someones bag. Sato had communicate information on what appeared to be a small pyramid inside a cube-shaped box. Normally, a two-inch-ta ll object would not be an leave of national security unless it was made of enriched plutonium. This one was not. It was made of something almost every bit startling.Image-density analysis was conclusive, Nola said. Nineteen-point-three grams per cubic centimeter. Its pure gold. Very, very valuable.Anything else?Actually, yes. The density scan picked up minor irregularities on the surface of the gold pyramid. It turns out the gold is sculpted with text.Really? Sato sounded hopeful. What does it say?I cant tell yet. The inscription is extremely faint. Im trying to enhance with filters, but the resolution on the X-ray is not great.Okay, keep trying. Call me when you flip something.Yes, maam.And, Nola? Satos tone turned ominous. As with everything you have learned in the last twenty-four hours, the images of the stone pyramid and gold capstone are classified at the highest levels of security. You are to consult no one. You communicate to me directly. I want to make sure that is clea r.Of course, maam.Good. Keep me posted. Sato hung up.Nola rubbed her eyes and looked blearily back at her computer screens. She had not slept in over thirty-six hours, and she knew damn well she would not sleep again until this crisis had reached its conclusion.Whatever that may be. tolerate at the Capitol Visitor Center, four black-clad CIA field-op specialists stood at the entrance to the tunnel, peering hungrily down the dimly lit shaft like a pack of dogs enthusiastic for the hunt.Sato approached, having just hung up from a call. Gentlemen, she said, still holding the Architects key, are your missionary station parameters clear?Affirmative, the lead agent replied. We have two targets. The first is an chip at stone pyramid, approximately one foot tall. The second is a smaller, cube-shaped package, approximately two inches tall. Both were last seen in Robert Langdons shoulder bag.Correct, Sato said. These two items must be retrieved quickly and intact. Do you have any questions ?Parameters for use of force?Satos shoulder was still throbbing from where Bellamy had struck her with a bone. As I said, it is of critical importance that these items be retrieved.Understood. The four men turned and headed into the darkness of the tunnel. Sato lit a cigarette and watched them disappear.CHAPTER 51Katherine Solomon had always been a prudent driver, but now she was pushing her Volvo at over xc as she fled blindly up the Suitland Parkway. Her trembling foot had been lodged on the particle accelerator for a full mile before her panic began to lift. She now realised her uncontrollable shivering was no longer solely from fear.Im freezing.The wintry night air was gushing by means of her tatterdemalion window, buffeting her body like an arctic wind. Her stockinged feet were numb, and she reached down for her spare pair of shoes, which she kept to a lower place the passenger seat. As she did, she felt a stab of pain from the bruise on her throat, where the powerful han d had latched on to her neck.The man who had smashed through her window bore no resemblance to the blond-haired gentleman whom Katherine knew as Dr. Christopher Abaddon. His abstruse hair and smooth, tanned complexion had disappeared. His shaved head, bare chest, and makeup-smeared face had been unveiled as a terrifying tapestry of tattoos.She heard his voice again, whispering to her in the howl of wind outside her broken window. Katherine, I should have killed you years ago . . . the night I killed your get down.Katherine shivered, feeling no doubt. That was him. She had never forgotten the look of fiendish violence in his eyes. Nor had she ever forgotten the sound of her cronys single gunfire, which had killed this man, propelling him off a high ledge into the frozen river below, where he plummeted through the ice and never resurfaced. Investigators had searched for weeks, never decision his body, and lastly decided it had been washed away by the current out to the Chesapeake Bay.They were wrong, she now knew. He is still alive.And hes back.Katherine felt angst-ridden as the memories flooded back. It was almost exactly ten years ago. Christmas Day. Katherine, Peter, and their puzzleher entire familywere gathered at their sprawling stone mansion in Potomac, nestled on a two-hundred-acre wooded estate with its own river running through it. As was tradition, their mother worked diligently in the kitchen, rejoicing in the holiday custom of readiness for her two children. Even at seventy-five years of age, Isabel Solomon was an exuberant cook, and tonight the mouthwatering smells of roast venison, parsnip gravy, and garlic mashed potatoes wafted through the shack. While Mother nimble the feast, Katherine and her brother relaxed in the hothouse, discussing Katherines latest fascinationa new field called Noetic Science. An unlikely fusion of modern particle physics and ancient mysticism, Noetics had absolutely captivated Katherines imagination.Physics meet s philosophy.Katherine told Peter about some of the experiments she was dreaming up, and she could see in his eyes that he was intrigued. Katherine felt particularly blithe to give her brother something positive to think about this Christmas, since the holiday had also become a painful reminder of a terrible tragedy.Peters son, Zachary.Katherines nephews 21st birthday had been his last. The family had been through a nightmare, and it seemed that her brother was only now finally learning how to laugh again.Zachary had been a late bloomer, frail and awkward, a contumacious and angry teenager. Despite his deeply loving and privileged upbringing, the boy seemed impelled to detach himself from the Solomon establishment. He was kicked out of prep school, partied hard with the celebrati, and shunned his parents exhaustive attempts to allow him firm and loving guidance.He broke Peters heart.Shortly before Zacharys 18th birthday, Katherine had sat down with her mother and brother and listened to them debating whether or not to take off Zacharys inheritance until he was more mature. The Solomon inheritancea centuries-old tradition in the familybequeathed a staggeringly generous piece of the Solomon wealth to every Solomon child on his or her eighteenth birthday. The Solomons believed that an inheritance was more helpful at the beginning of someones life than at the end. Moreover, placing large pieces of the Solomon fortune in the hands of eager young descendants had been the key to growing the familys dynastic wealth.In this case, however, Katherines mother argued that it was dangerous to give Peters troubled son such a large sum of money. Peter disagreed.The Solomon inheritance, her brother had said, is a family tradition that should not be broken. This money may well force Zachary to be more responsible.Sadly, her brother had been wrong.The moment Zachary received the money, he broke from the family, disappearing from the house without taking any of his belon gings. He surfaced a few months later in the tabloids TRUST FUND PLAYBOY LIVING EUROPEAN HIGH LIFE.The tabloids took joy in documenting Zacharys spoiled life of debauchery. The photos of wild parties on yachts and drunken disco stupors were hard for the Solomons to take, but the photos of their wayward teen turned from tragic to shake up when the papers reported Zachary had been caught carrying cocaine across a border in Eastern Europe SOLOMON MILLIONAIRE IN TURKISH PRISON.The prison, they learned, was called Soganlika brutal F-class clutches center located in the Kartal district outside of Istanbul. Peter Solomon, fearing for his sons safety, flew to jokester to retrieve him. Katherines distraught brother returned empty-handed, having been forbidden even to visit with Zachary. The only promising news was that Solomons influential contacts at the U.S. State Department were operative on getting him extradited as quickly as possible.Two years later, however, Peter received a horr ifying international phone call. The next morning, headlines blared SOLOMON HEIR MURDERED IN PRISON.The prison photos were horrific, and the media callously aired them all, even long after the Solomons private burial ceremony. Peters wife never forgave him for flunk to free Zachary, and their marriage came to an end six months later. Peter had been alone ever since.It was years later that Katherine, Peter, and their mother, Isabel, were gathered quietly for Christmas. The pain was still a presence in their family, but mercifully it was fading with each deprivation year. The pleasant rattle of pots and pans now echoed from the kitchen as their mother prepared the conventional feast. Out in the conservatory, Peter and Katherine were enjoying a baked Brie and relaxed holiday conversation. past came an utterly unexpected sound.Hello, Solomons, an airy voice said behind them.Startled, Katherine and her brother spun to see an enormous muscular figure stepping into the conservatory. He wore a black ski mask that covered all of his face except his eyes, which shone with fell ferocity.Peter was on his feet in an instant. Who are you? How did you get in here?I knew your little boy, Zachary, in prison. He told me where this key was hidden. The stranger held up an old key and grinned like a beast. Right before I bludgeoned him to death.Peters mouth fell open.A pistol appeared, aimed directly at Peters chest. Sit.Peter fell back into his chair. As the man moved into the room, Katherine was frozen in place. Behind his mask, the mans eyes were wild like those of a rabid animal.Hey Peter yelled, as if trying to warn their mother in the kitchen. Whoever you are, take what you want, and get outThe man leveled his gun at Peters chest. And what is it you think I want?Just tell me how much, Solomon said. We dont have money in the house, but I canThe monster laughed. Do not insult me. I have not come for money. I have come tonight for Zacharys other birthright. He grinned. He t old me about the pyramid.Pyramid? Katherine thought in disoriented terror. What pyramid?Her brother was defiant. I dont know what youre talking about.Dont play leaden with me Zachary told me what you keep in your study vault. I want it. Now.Whatever Zachary told you, he was confused, Peter said. I dont know what youre talking aboutNo? The trespasser turned and aimed the gun at Katherines face. How about now?Peters eyes change with terror. You must believe me I dont know what it is you wantLie to me one more time, he said, still aiming at Katherine, and I swear I will take her from you. He smiled. And from what Zachary said, your little sister is more unusual to you than all yourWhats going on? Katherines mother shouted, marching into the room with Peters browning Citori shotgunwhich she aimed directly at the mans chest. The intruder spun toward her, and the feisty seventy-five-year-old woman penurious no time. She fired a deafening blast of pellets. The intruder staggered back ward, flame his handgun wildly in all directions, shattering windows as he fell and crashed through the glass doorway, dropping the pistol as he fell.Peter was instantly in motion, diving on the loose handgun. Katherine had fallen, and Mrs. Solomon go to her side, kneeling beside her. My God, are you transgress?Katherine shook her head, mute with shock. Outside the shattered glass door, the masked man had clambered to his feet and was running into the woods, clutching his side as he ran. Peter Solomon glanced back to make sure his mother and sister were safe, and seeing they were fine, he held the pistol and raced out the door after the intruder.Katherines mother held her hand, trembling. convey heavens youre okay. Then suddenly her mother pulled away. Katherine? Youre bleeding Theres blood Youre hurt Katherine saw the blood. A lot of blood. It was all over her. But she felt no pain.Her mother frantically searched Katherines body for a wound. Where does it hurtMom, I dont know, I dont feel anythingThen Katherine saw the source of the blood, and she went cold. Mom, its not me . . . She pointed to the side of her mothers white satin blouse, where blood was running freely, and a small tattered muss was visible. Her mother glanced down, looking more confused than anything else. She winced and shrank back, as if the pain had just hit her.Katherine? Her voice was calm, but suddenly it carried the weight of her seventy-five years. I need you to call an ambulance.Katherine ran to the hall phone and called for help. When she got back to the conservatory, she found her mother lying motionless in a pool of blood. She ran to her, crouching down, cradling her mothers body in her arms.Katherine had no idea how much time had passed when she heard the distant gunshot in the woods. Finally, the conservatory door burst open, and her brother, Peter, rushed in, eyes wild, gun still in his hand. When he saw Katherine sobbing, holding their lifeless mother in her arms, his fac e contorted in anguish. The scream that echoed through the conservatory was a sound Katherine Solomon would never forget.