The Lost Symbol Chapter 93-97

CHAPTER 93Franklin square(a) is located in the northwest quarter-circle of complicatet deliver Washington, b high societyed by K and Thirteenth avenues. It is kinfolk to more(prenominal) historic twists, most nonably the Franklin School, from which Alexander Graham Bell displace the worlds first wireless message in 1880.High above the square, a fast-moving UH-60 helicopter approached from the west, having completed its journey from the National Cathedral in a matter of minutes. Plenty of time, Sato thought, peering grim at the square below. She knew it was critical that her public supply got into position undetected before their target arrived. He said he wouldnt be here for at least twenty minutes.On Satos com humanityd, the sail performed a regard-h all over on the roof of the tallest building somewhatthe re directlyned 1 Franklin Squarea towering and prestigious office building with devil gold spires on top. The maneuver was illegal, of course, solely the chopper was in that respect unaccompanied a few seconds, and its skids barely touched the gravel rooftop. Once both sensation had jumped break through, the polisher immediately lifted off, banking to the east, where he would climb to silent altitude and erect lightless support from above.Sato sojourned as her field team collected their things and prepared Bellamy for his task. The Architect was unbosom looking dazed from having fore pay heedn the file on Satos fix laptop. As I said . . . an issue of national security. Bellamy had quickly mute Satos meaning and was in a flash amply cooperative.All set, maam, doer Simkins said.On Satos command, the agents ushered Bellamy crosswise the rooftop and disappeared piling a stair hygienic, heading for ground level to take up their positions.Sato walked to the edge of the building and gazed d profess. The rectangular wooded park below alter the entire block. Plenty of cover. Satos team fully understood the importance of qualifica tion an undetected intercept. If their target sensed a presence here and refractory just to slip away . . . the director didnt even want to conduct in mind nearly it.The wind up here was gusty and cold. Sato wrapped her ordnance store around herself, and planted her feet firmly to avoid getting blown over the edge. From this graduate(prenominal) vantage point, Franklin Square looked smaller than she recalled, with fewer buildings. She wondered which building was ogdoad Franklin Square. This was information she had requested from her analyst Nola, from whom she expected word at some(prenominal) moment.Bellamy and the agents like a shot appeared, looking a manage ants fanning out into the darkness of the wooded area. Simkins positioned Bellamy in a clearing near the center of the deserted park. Then Simkins and his team melted into the natural cover, disappearing from view. Within seconds, Bellamy was alone, pacing and shivering in the crystalise of a streetlamp near the ce nter of the park.Sato felt no pity.She lighten a cigarette and took a long drag, savoring the warmth as it permeated her lungs. Satisfied that everything below was in order, she stepped hazard from the edge to await her deuce name callsone from her analyst Nola and one from Agent Hartmann, whom she had sent to Kalorama Heights.CHAPTER 94Slow down Langdon gripped the backseat of the Escalade as it flew around a corner, threaten to tip up on two tires. CIA agent Hartmann was either raring(predicate) to show off his driving skills to Katherine, or he had orders to get to shaft of readable Solomon before Solomon recuperated enough to say anything he shouldnt say to the local authorities.The high-velocity game of beat-the-red-light on Embassy Row had been worrisome enough, but now they were go done the winding residential neighborhood of Kalorama Heights. Katherine shouted steerings as they went, having been to this mans mob earlier that afternoon.With every turn, the leather stunner at Langdons feet rocked back and forth, and Langdon could insure the clank of the cap oppose, which had clear been jarred from the top of the gain and was now bouncing around in the bottom of his theme. Fearing it might get damaged, he fished around deep down until he found it. It was still warm, but the glowing text had now faded and disappeared, reverting to its original engravingThe secret hides within The Order.As Langdon was close to place the capstone in a side pocket, he noticed its elegant mount was cover with tiny white loads of something. Puzzled, he tried to wipe them off, but they were stuck on and lowering to the touch . . . like plastic. What in the world? He could now see that the sur verbal expression of the stone profit itself was also covered with the little white dots. Langdon use his fingernail and picked one off, rolling it between his fingers.Wax? he blurted.Katherine glanced over her shoulder. What? at that place are bits of jump on all ov er the pyramid and capstone. I dont get a line it. Where could that possibly have come from? aroundthing in your bag, maybe?I dont count on so.As they rounded a corner, Katherine pointed through the windshield and turned to Agent Hartmann. Thats it Were here.Langdon glanced up and saw the spinning lights of a security vehicle set in a driveway up ahead. The driveway gate was pulled past and the agent gunned the SUV inside the compound. The place was a spectacular mansion. Every light inside was ablaze, and the search door was wide open. A half-dozen vehicles were parked randomly in the driveway and on the lawn, simply having arrived in a hurry. Some of the cars were still running and had their headlights shining, most on the house, but one askew, often blinding them as they drove in.Agent Hartmann skidded to a stop on the lawn beside a white sedan with a brightly colored decalcomania PREFERRED SECURITY. The spinning lights and the high beams in their face made it awkward to see.Katherine immediately jumped out and passaged for the house. Langdon heaved his bag onto his shoulder without taking the time to accelerate it up. He followed Katherine at a jog crossways the lawn toward the open apparent movement door. The large(p)s of voices echoed within. butt end Langdon, the SUV chirped as Agent Hartmann locked the vehicle and hurried after them.Katherine spring up the porch stairs, through the main door, and disappeared into the entryway. Langdon crossed the threshold behind her and could see Katherine was already moving across the foyer and down the main dormitory toward the sound of voices. beyond her, visible at the end of the planetary houseway, was a dining-room table where a woman in a security constant was sitting with her back to them.Officer Katherine shouted as she ran. Where is scratch Solomon?Langdon race after her, but as he did so, an unexpected movement caught his eye. To his left, through the living-room window, he could s ee the driveway gate was now tripping shut. Odd. Something else caught his eye . . . something that had been hidden from him by the glare of the spinning lights and the blinding high beams when they drove in. The half-dozen cars parked haphazardly in the driveway looked nothing like the police cars and emergency vehicles Langdon had imagined they were.A Mercedes? . . . a Hummer? . . . a Tesla buggy?In that instant, Langdon also realized the voices he heard in the house were nothing but a television blaring in the direction of the dining room.Wheeling in slow motion, Langdon shouted down the hallway. Katherine, waitBut as he turned, he could see that Katherine Solomon was no drawn-out running.She was airborne.CHAPTER 95Katherine Solomon knew she was falling . . . but she couldnt figure out why.She had been running down the hall toward the security keep an eye on in the dining room when dead her feet had pass entangled in an invisible obstacle, and her entire body had lurched fo rward, coast through the air.Now she was returning to acres . . . in this case, a hardwood floor.Katherine crashed down on her stomach, the wind driven violently from her lungs. Above her, a sober come out tree teetered precariously and thus toppled over, barely missing her on the floor. She raised her head, still gasping for breathing spell, puzzled to see that the female security guard in the chair had not moved a muscle. Stranger still, the toppled coat tree appeared to have a thin wire attached to the bottom, which had been stretched across the hallway.Why in the world would someone . . . ?Katherine Langdon was shouting to her, and as Katherine turn onto her side and looked back at him, she felt her demarcation turn to ice. Robert Behind you She tried to scream, but she was still gasping for breath. All she could do was watch in terrifying slow motion as Langdon rushed down the hall to back up her, completely unaware that behind him, Agent Hartmann was staggering across the threshold and clutching his throat. Blood sprayed through Hartmanns hands as he groped at the handle of a long screwdriver that protruded from his neck.As the agent pitched forward, his aggressor came into full view.My God . . . noNaked except for a oddish undergarment that looked like a loincloth, the massive man had apparently been privacy in the foyer. His muscular body was covered from head to toe with extraneous tattoos. The front door was swinging closed, and he was rushing down the hall after Langdon.Agent Hartmann hit the floor just as the front door slammed shut. Langdon looked startled and whirled around, but the tattooed man was already on him, trailer some kind of device into his back. in that location was a flash of light and a sharp electrical sizzle, and Katherine saw Langdon go rigid. Eyes snappy wide, Langdon lurched forward, collapsing down in a paralyzed heap. He fell hard on top of his leather bag, the pyramid tumbling out onto the floor.Without so muc h as a glance down at his victim, the tattooed man stepped over Langdon and headed directly for Katherine. She was already crawling backward into the dining room, where she collided with a chair. The female security guard, who had been propped in that chair, now wobbled and dropped to the floor in a heap beside her. The womans lifeless expression was one of terror. Her mouth was stuffed with a rag. The fantastic man had reached her before Katherine had time to react. He seized her by the shoulders with im possible strength. His face, no longer covered by makeup, was an tellly terrifying luck. His muscles flexed, and she felt herself world flipped over onto her stomach like a rag doll. A effectual knee ground into her back, and for a moment, she thought she would break in two. He grabbed her ordnance and pulled them backward.With her head now turned to one side and her facial expression pressed into the carpet, Katherine could see Langdon, his body still jerking, facing away f rom her. Beyond that, Agent Hartmann frame motionless in the foyer.Cold metal nip Katherines wrists, and she realized she was creation bound with wire. In terror, she tried to pull away, but doing so sent searing pain into her hands.This wire will cut you if you move, the man said, finishing with her wrists and moving down to her ankles with frightening efficiency.Katherine kicked at him, and he threw a powerful fist into the back of her right thigh, crippling her leg. Within seconds, her ankles were bound.Robert she now managed to call out.Langdon was groaning on the floor in the hallway. He lay crumple on his leather bag with the stone pyramid prevarication on its side near his head. Katherine realized the pyramid was her last hope.We deciphered the pyramid she told her attacker. Ill tell you everythingYes, you will. With that, he pulled the cloth from the dead womans mouth and firmly stuffed it into Katherines.It tasted like death.Robert Langdons body was not his own. He lay , numb and immobile, his cheek pressed against the hardwood floor. He had heard enough about stun guns to know they crippled their victims by temporarily overloading the nervous system. Their actionsomething called electromuscular disruptionmight as well have been a bolt of lightning. The excruciating jolt of pain seemed to disperse every molecule of his body. Now, despite his minds focused intention, his muscles refused to obey the command he was sending them.Get upFacedown, paralyzed on the floor, Langdon was gulping change breaths, scarcely able to inhale. He had til now to lay look on the man who had attacked him, but he could see Agent Hartmann lying in an expanding pool of blood. Langdon had heard Katherine struggling and arguing, but moments ago her voice had run muffled, as if the man had stuffed something in her mouth.Get up, Robert Youve got to help her Langdons legs were tingling now, a fiery and painful recovery of feeling, but still they refused to cooperate. Move His arms twitched as sensation started to come back, along with feeling in his face and neck. With great effort, he managed to rotate his head, dragging his cheek roughly across the hardwood floor as he turned his head to look down into the dining room.Langdons sight line was impededby the stone pyramid, which had toppled out of his bag and was lying sideways on the floor, its stalk inches from his face.For an instant, Langdon didnt understand what he was looking at. The square of stone before him was obviously the vile of the pyramid, and yet it looked somehow different. Very different. It was still square, and still stone . . . but it was no longer flat and smooth. The base of the pyramid was covered with engraved markings. How is this possible? He stared for several seconds, wondering if he was hallucinating. I looked at the base of this pyramid a dozen times . . . and there were no markingsLangdon now realized why.His breathing reflex kick-started, and he drew a jerky gasp of air, realizing that the Masonic Pyramid had secrets yet to share. I have witnessed other transformation.In a flash, Langdon understood the meaning of Galloways last request. Tell turncock this The Masonic Pyramid has always kept her secret . . . sincerely. The words had seemed unknown at the time, but now Langdon understood that Dean Galloway was sending Peter a code. Ironically, this same code had been a plot twist in a mediocre thriller Langdon had read years ago. Sin-cere.Since the days of Michelangelo, sculptors had been hiding the flaws in their work by smearing hot wax into the cracks and then dabbing the wax with stone dust. The method was considered cheating, and therefore, any sculpture without waxliterally sine cerawas considered a sincere piece of art. The phrase stuck. To this day we still sign our earn sincerely as a promise that we have written without wax and that our words are true.The engravings on the base of this pyramid had been concealed by the same method. When Katherine followed the capstones directions and boiled the pyramid, the wax melted away, revealing the writing on the base. Galloway had run his hands over the pyramid in the sitting room, apparently feeling the markings exposed on the bottom.Now, if only for an instant, Langdon had forgotten all the hazard he and Katherine faced. He stared at the incredible array of symbols on the base of the pyramid. He had no root word what they meant . . . or what they would ultimately reveal, but one thing was for certain. The Masonic Pyramid has secrets left to tell. Eight Franklin Square is not the final answer.Whether it was this adrenaline-filled revelation or simply the extra few seconds lying there, Langdon did not know, but he suddenly felt control returning to his body. Painfully, he swept an arm to one side, pushing the leather bag out of the way to clear his sight line into the dining room.To his horror, he saw that Katherine had been tied up, and a large rag had been stuffed deep into her mouth. Langdon flexed his muscles, stressful to climb to his knees, but a moment later, he froze in utter disbelief. The dining-room doorway had just filled with a chilling sighta human form unlike anything Langdon had ever seen.What in the flesh of God . . . ?Langdon rolled, kicking with his legs, attempt to back away, but the huge tattooed man grabbed him, flipping him onto his back and straddling his chest. He placed his knees on Langdons biceps, pinning Langdon pain fully to the floor. The mans chest bore a rippling double-headed phoenix. His neck, face, and shaved head were covered with a dazzling array of unusually intricate symbolssigils, Langdon knewwhich were used in the rituals of dark ceremonial magic.Before Langdon could process anything more, the huge man clasped Langdons ears between his palms, lifted his head up off the floor, and, with incredible force, smashed it back down onto the hardwood.Everything went black.CHAPTER 96Malakh stood in his hallway and surveyed the carnage around him. His home looked like a battlefield.Robert Langdon lay unconscious at his feet.Katherine Solomon was bound and gagged on the dining-room floor.The corpse of a female security guard lay crumpled nearby, having toppled off the chair where she was propped. This female guard, eager to save her own life, had done exactly as Malakh commanded. With a knife to her throat, she had answered Malakhs cell phone and told the lie that had coaxed Langdon and Katherine to come racing out here. She had no partner, and Peter Solomon was for sure not okay. As in brief as the woman had given her performance, Malakh had piano strangled her. To complete the illusion that Malakh was not home, he had phoned Bellamy victimisation the hands- open speaker in one of his cars. Im on the road, he had told Bellamy and whoever else had been listening. Peter is in my trunk. In fact, Malakh was driving only between his garage and his front yard, where he had left several of h is myriad cars parked askew with the headlights on and the engines running.The deception had worked perfectly.Almost.The only wrinkle was the bloody black-clad heap in the foyer with a screwdriver protruding from his neck. Malakh searched the corpse and had to chuckle when he found a high-tech transceiver and cell phone with a CIA logo. It seems even they are aware of my power. He removed the batteries and crushed both devices with a heavy bronze doorstop.Malakh knew he had to move quickly now, especially if the CIA was involved. He strode back over to Langdon. The professor was out cold and would be for a while. Malakhs eyes moved with tremor now to the stone pyramid on the floor beside the professors open bag. His breath caught, and his heart pounded.I have waited for years . . .His hands trembled slightly as he reached down and picked up the Masonic Pyramid. As he ran his fingers slow across the engravings, he felt awed by their promise. Before he became too entranced, he pu t the pyramid back in Langdons bag with the capstone and zipped it up.I will assemble the pyramid soon . . . in a much safer location.He threw Langdons bag over his shoulder and then tried to hoist Langdon himself, but the professors toned physique weighed much more than anticipated. Malakh settled on grabbing him beneath the armpits and dragging him across the floor. Hes not expiration to like where he ends up, Malakh thought.As he dragged Langdon off, the television in the kitchen blared. The sound of voices from the TV had been part of the deception, and Malakh had yet to turn it off. The station was now broadcast medium a televangelist leading his congregation in the Lords Prayer. Malakh wondered if any of his hypnotized viewing audience had any idea where this prayer really came from. . . . On earth as it is in heaven . . . the group intoned.Yes, Malakh thought. As above, so below. . . . And lead us not into temptation . . .Help us master the weakness of our flesh. . . . d evolve us from evil . . . they all beseeched.Malakh smiled. That could be difficult. The darkness is growing. Even so, he had to give them credit for trying. Humans who spoke to invisible forces and requested help were a dying breed in this modern world.Malakh was dragging Langdon across the living room when the congregation declared, AmenAmon, Malakh corrected. Egypt is the cradle of your religion. The god Amon was the prototype for genus Zeus . . . for Jupiter . . . and for every modern face of God. To this day, every religion on earth shouted out a variation of his name. Amen Amin AumThe televangelist began quoting verses from the Bible describing hierarchies of angels, demons, and spirits that control in heaven and hell. Protect your souls from evil forces he warned them. Lift your wagon in prayer God and his angels will hear youHes right, Malakh knew. But so will the demons.Malakh had learned long ago that through proper exertion of the finesse, a practitioner could open a portal to the spiritual realm. The invisible forces that existed there, much like man himself, came in many forms, both candid and evil. Those of Light healed, protected, and sought to bring order to the universe. Those of Dark functioned oppositely . . . saving destruction and chaos.If properly summoned, the invisible forces could be persuaded to do a practitioners dictation on earth . . . thus instilling him with seemingly supernatural power. In exchange for helping the summoner, these forces required offeringsprayers and praise for those of Light . . . and the spilling of blood for those of Dark.The greater the establish, the greater the power that is transferred. Malakh had begun his practice with the blood of inconsequential animals. Over time, however, his choices for sacrifice had become more bold. Tonight, I take the final step.Beware the sermoniser shouted, warning of the coming Apocalypse. The final battle for the souls of man will soon be foughtIndeed, Malakh thought. And I shall become its greatest warrior.This battle, of course, had begun long, long ago. In antediluvian patriarch Egypt, those who perfected the Art had become the great Adepts of history, evolving beyond the masses to become true practitioners of Light. They moved as gods on earth. They built great temples of inception to which neophytes traveled from around the world to partake of the wisdom. There arose a race of golden men. For a brief span of time, mankind seemed poised to shape up himself and transcend his earthly bonds.The golden age of the Ancient Mysteries. And yet man, being of the flesh, was susceptible to the sins of hubris, hatred, impatience, and greed. Over time, there were those who corrupted the Art, perverting it and abvictimization its power for personal gain. They began using this perverted version to summon dark forces. A different Art evolved . . . a more potent, immediate, and intoxicating influence.Such is my Art.Such is my Great Work.The illuminated Ad epts and their esoteric fraternities witnessed the rising evil and saw that man was not using his newfound knowledge for the good of his species. And so they hid their wisdom to keep it from the eyes of the unworthy. Eventually, it was lost to history.With this came the Great Fall of Man.And a lasting darkness.To this day, the noble descendants of the Adepts soldiered on, grasping blindly for the Light, trying to recapture the lost power of their past, trying to keep the darkness at bay. They were the priests and priestesses of the churches, temples, and shrines of all the religions on earth. Time had erased the memories . . . detach them from their past. They no longer knew the Source from which their potent wisdom had once flowed. When they were asked about the divine mysteries of their forebears, the new custodians of faith vociferously disowned them, condemning them as heresy. pose they truly forgotten? Malakh wondered.Echoes of the ancient Art still resonated in every corner o f the globe, from the mystical Kabbalists of Judaism to the esoteric Sufis of Islam. Vestiges remained in the arcane rituals of Christianity, in its god-eating rites of sanctum Communion, its hierarchies of saints, angels, and demons, its chanting and incantation, its holy calendars astrological underpinnings, its consecrated robes, and in its promise of eonian life. Even now, its priests dispelled evil spirits by swinging smoke-filled censers, plangency sacred bells, and sprinkling holy water. Christians still practiced the supernatural cunning of exorcisman early practice of their faith that required the ability not only to cast out demons but to summon them.And yet they cannot see their past?Nowhere was the churchs mystical past more evident than at her epicenter. In Vatican City, at the heart of St. Peters Square, stood the great Egyptian obelisk. Carved long dozen hundred years before Jesus took his first breaththis sacred monolith had no relevance there, no link to modern Christianity. And yet there it was. At the core of Christs church. A stone beacon, screaming to be heard. A reminder to those few sages who remembered where it all began. This church, born of the womb of the Ancient Mysteries, still bore her rites and symbols. One symbol above all.Adorning her altars, vestments, spires, and Scripture was the singular role of Christianitythat of a precious, sacrificed human being. Christianity, more than any other faith, understood the transformative power of sacrifice. Even now, to honor the sacrifice made by Jesus, his followers proffered their own feeble gestures of personal sacrifice . . . fasting, Lenten renunciation, tithing.All of those offerings are impotent, of course. Without blood . . . there is no true sacrifice.The powers of darkness had long embraced blood sacrifice, and in doing so, they had grown so strong that the powers of goodness now struggled to keep them in check. Soon the Light would be entirely consumed, and the practitioner s of darkness would move freely through the minds of men.CHAPTER 97Eight Franklin Square must exist, Sato insisted. Look it up againNola Kaye sat at her desk and adjusted her headset. Maam, Ive checked everywhere . . . that conduct doesnt exist in D.C.But Im on the roof of One Franklin Square, Sato said. There has to be an EightDirector Satos on a roof? curb on. Nola began running a new search. She was considering telling the OS director about the hacker, but Sato seemed fixated on Eight Franklin Square at the moment. Besides, Nola still didnt have all the information. Wheres that damned sys-sec, anyway?Okay, Nola said, eyeing her screen, I see the problem. One Franklin Square is the name of the building . . . not the address. The address is actually 1301 K Street.The countersign seemed to confound the director. Nola, I dont have time to explainthe pyramid clearly points to the address Eight Franklin Square.Nola sat bolt upright. The pyramid points to a particularised location?T he inscription, Sato continued, reads The secret hides within The OrderEight Franklin Square.Nola could scarcely imagine. An order like . . . a Masonic or fraternal order? I assume so, Sato replied.Nola thought a moment, and then began typing again. Maam, maybe the street numbers on the square changed over the years? I mean, if this pyramid is as old as legend claims, maybe the numbers on Franklin Square were different when the pyramid was built? Im now running a search without the number eight . . . for . . . the order . . . Franklin Square . . . and Washington, D.C. . . . and this way, we might get some idea if theres She stalled midsentence as the search results appeared.What have you got? Sato demanded.Nola stared at the first result on the lista spectacular image of the Great Pyramid of Egypt which served as the thematic backdrop for the home page dedicated to a building on Franklin Square. The building was unlike any other building on the square.Or in the entire city, for that matter.What stopped Nola cold was not the buildings grotesque architecture, but rather the description of its purpose. According to the Web site, this unusual edifice was built as a sacred mystical shrine, designed by . . . and designed for . . . an ancient secret order.