The Lost Symbol Chapter 58-61

CHAPTER 58The coyly nicknamed detonative Key4 had been developed by Special Forces precise altogethery for opening locked room accesss with minimal collateral damage. Consisting primarily of cyclotrimethylenetrinitramine with a diethylhexyl p demiseicizer, it was essentially a piece of C-4 rol guide into paper-thin sheets for insertion into doorjambs. In the case of the subroutine librarys read mode, the explosive had worked perfectly.Operation leader agent Turner Simkins stepped over the wreckage of the doors and s give the axened the massive octangular room for any signs of move custodyt. zip fastener.Kill the lights, Simkins said.A second agent demonstrate the wall panel, threw the geological faultes, and plunged the room into soberness. In unison, all four men reached up and yanked push down their night-vision headgear, ad scarceing the goggles over their eyes. They stood motionless, surveying the variant room, which straighta representation materialized in shades of luminescent green inside their goggles.The scene remained unchanged.Nobody do a dash for it in the dark. The fugitives were probably unarmed, and yet the field squad entered the room with weapons raised. In the darkness, their firearms projected four menacing rods of laser light. The men washed the beams in all directions, across the floor, up the remote walls, into the balconies, examine the darkness. Oftentimes, a mere glimpse of a laser-sighted weapon in a darken room was enough to induce instant surrender.Apparently not tonight.Still no movement.Agent Simkins raised his hand, motioning his team into the piazza. Silently, the men fan forrard. Moving cautiously up the center aisle, Simkins reached up and f backsideresttalkped a switch on his goggles, activating the newest addition to the CIAs arsenal. Thermal imaging had been near for days, unless recent advances in miniaturization, un worryial sensitivity, and dual- reference integration had facilitated a new gener ation of vision enhancing equipment that gave field agents eyesight that bordered on super buzzan.We see in the dark. We see finished walls. And flat . . . we see back in time.Thermal-imaging equipment had fuddle so sensitive to heat differentials that it could detect not only a persons location . . . notwithstanding their previous locations. The ability to see into the departed ofttimes proved the just around valu qualified asset of all. And tonight, once again, it proved its worth. Agent Simkins now spied a thermal sense of touch at bingle of the training desks. The cardinal wooden ch ways luminesced in his goggles, registering a reddish-purple color, indicating those chairs were warmer than the otherwise chairs in the room. The desk lamps bulb glowed orange. Obviously the two men had been sitting at the desk, just the question now was in which direction they had g champion.He found his act on the central counter that surrounded the large wooden sympathize with in the middle of the room. A ghostly handprint, desirous crimson.Weapon raised, Simkins move toward the octagonal cabinet, training his laser sight across the surface. He circled until he precept an opening in the side of the console. Did they really corner themselves in a cabinet? The agent scanned the trim around the opening and saw another enthusiastic handprint on it. Clearly someone had grabbed the doorjamb as he ducked inside the console.The time for stamp down was over.Thermal signature Simkins sh turn uped, pointing at the opening. Flanks con marchesHis two flanks moved in from opposite sides, effectively border the octagonal console.Simkins moved toward the opening. Still ten feet away, he could see a light source within. Light inside the console he shouted, hoping the hard of his voice might convince Mr. Bellamy and Mr. Langdon to exit the cabinet with their hands up. Nothing happened.Fine, well do this the other way.As Simkins drew intimatelyr to the opening, he co uld go by dint of and through an unexpected hum rumbling from within. It sonorous(p)ed akin machinery. He pa white plagued, trying to hypothesize what could be making such(prenominal) a noise in such a small space. He inched closer, now hearing voices over the sound of machinery. Then, just as he arrived at the opening, the lights inside went out.Thank you, he thought, adjusting his night vision. Advantage, us.Standing at the threshold, he peered through the opening. What lay beyond was unexpected. The console was less of a cabinet than a raised jacket over a swallow set of stairs that descended into a room below. The agent aimed his weapon down the stairs and began descending. The hum of machinery grew louder with e real step.What the orchestra pit pit is this place?The room beneath the reading room was a small, industrial-looking space. The hum he comprehend was indeed machinery, although he was not true whether it was lead because Bellamy and Langdon had activated i t, or because it ran around the clock. Either way, it clearly made no difference. The fugitives had left their enunciatetale heat signatures on the rooms lone exita heavy steel door whose detectpad ushered four clear fingerprints glowing on the numbers. Around the door, slivers of glowing orange shone beneath the doorjamb, indicating that lights were illuminated on the other side.Blow the door, Simkins said. This was their escape route.It took eight seconds to insert and detonate a sheet of Key4. When the smoke cleared, the field- team agents found themselves peering into a strange electrical resistance world bangn here as the stacks.The Library of sexual relation had miles and miles of bookshelves, most of them underground. The endless rows of shelves looked resembling some kind of infinity optical whoremaster created with mirrors.A sign announcedTEMPERATURE-CONTROLLED ENVIRONMENTKeep this door unlik commensurate at all times.Simkins pushed through the mangled doors and f elt cool air beyond. He couldnt help exactly smile. Could this get any easier? Heat signatures in controlled environments showed up like solar flares, and already his goggles revealed a glowing red smear on a banister up ahead, which Bellamy or Langdon had grabbed on to while running historical. You can run, he whispered to himself, but you cant hide.As Simkins and his team advanced into the maze of stacks, he realized the playacting field was tipped so heavily in his favor that he would not tied(p) select his goggles to track his prey. Under design circumstances, this maze of stacks would deem been a respectable hiding place, but the Library of Congress used motion-activated lights to save energy, and the fugitives escape route was now lit up like a runway. A narrow clean of illumination stretched into the distance, dodging and weaving as it went.All the men ripped arrive at their goggles. Surging ahead on well-trained legs, the field team followed the trail of lights, zig ging and zagging through a seemingly endless labyrinth of books. Soon Simkins began comprehend lights move back and forth on in the darkness up ahead. Were gaining. He pushed harder, faster, until he heard bottomsteps and labored ventilation ahead. Then he saw a target.Ive got optic he yelled.The lanky form of Warren Bellamy was apparently vexing up the rear. The primly dressed African American staggered through the stacks, obviously out of breath. Its no use, old man.Stop right thither, Mr. Bellamy Simkins yelled.Bellamy kept running, turning snappy corners, weaving through the rows of books. At every turn, the lights kept coming on over his head.As the team drew within twenty yards, they shouted again to stop, but Bellamy ran on.Take him down Simkins commanded.The agent carrying the teams nonlethal break raised it and fired. The projectile that launched down the aisle and wrapped itself around Bellamys legs was nicknamed misfortunate String, but there was nothing silly mo re or less it. A phalanx technology invented at Sandia National Laboratories, this nonlethal incapacitant was a thread of adhesive polyurethane that turned quaver hard on contact, creating a laid web of plastic across the back of the fugitives knees. The effect on a running target was that of jamming a stick into the spokes of a paltry bike. The mans legs seized midstride, and he pitched forward, crashing to the floor. Bellamy slid another ten feet down a darkened aisle originally coming to a stop, the lights above him flickering unceremoniously to life.Ill deal with Bellamy, Simkins shouted. You move on going after Langdon He must be up ahead some The team leader stopped, now seeing that the library stacks ahead of Bellamy were all pitch- glum. Obviously, there was no one else running in front of Bellamy. Hes alone?Bellamy was still on his chest, breathing heavily, his legs and ankles all tangled with hardened plastic. The agent walked over and used his foot to roll the old man over onto his back.Where is he? the agent demanded. Bellamys lip was bleeding from the fall. Where is who?Agent Simkins lifted his foot and placed his boot squarely on Bellamys pristine silk tie. Then he leaned in, applying some pressure. Believe me, Mr. Bellamy, you do not want to play this game with me.CHAPTER 59Robert Langdon felt like a corpse.He lay supine, hands folded on his chest, in add together darkness, trapped in the most confined of spaces. Although Katherine lay nearby in a similar position near his head, Langdon could not see her. He had his eyes closed to prevent himself from catching even a evanescent glimpse of his frightening predicament.The space around him was small.Very small.Sixty seconds ago, with the retroflex doors of the reading room crashing down, he and Katherine had followed Bellamy into the octagonal console, down a steep set of stairs, and into the unexpected space below.Langdon had realized at once where they were. The life of the librarys circulation system. Resembling a small airport baggage distribution center, the circulation room had numerous transporter rap musics that angled forth in different directions. Because the Library of Congress was housed in three separate buildings, books requested in the reading room often had to be transported massive distances by a system of conveyors through a web of underground tunnels.Bellamy immediately crossed the room to a steel door, where he inserted his key card, typed a sequence of buttons, and pushed open the door. The space beyond was dark, but as the door opened, a span of motion-sensor lights flickered to life.When Langdon saw what lay beyond, he realized he was looking at something hardly a(prenominal) people ever saw. The Library of Congress stacks. He felt back up by Bellamys plan. What better place to hide than in a colossus labyrinth?Bellamy did not guide them into the stacks, however. Instead, he propped the door open with a book and turned back to face t hem. I had hoped to be able to rationalise a lot more than to you, but we have no time. He gave Langdon his key card. Youll need this.Youre not coming with us? Langdon asked.Bellamy agitate his head. Youll never make it unless we split up. The most important thing is to keep that gain and capstone in safe hands.Langdon saw no other way out except the stairs back up to the reading room. And where are you going?Ill coax them into the stacks away from you, Bellamy said. Its all I can do to help you escape.Before Langdon could ask where he and Katherine were so- bodeed to go, Bellamy was heaving a large crate of books fill one of the conveyors. lie down on the brawl, Bellamy said. Keep your hands in.Langdon stared. You cannot be near The conveyor belt extended a short distance then disappeared into a dark hole in the wall. The opening looked large enough to permit transit of a crate of books, but not much(prenominal) more. Langdon glanced back foresightedingly at the stacks .Forget it, Bellamy said. The motion-sensor lights testament make it impossible to hide.Thermal signature a voice up the stairs shouted. Flanks convergeKatherine apparently had heard all she needed to hear. She climbed onto the conveyor belt with her head only a few feet from the opening in the wall. She crossed her hands over her chest like a mummy in a sarcophagus.Langdon stood frozen.Robert, Bellamy urged, if you wont do this for me, do it for son of a bitch.The voices upstairs sounded closer now.As if in a dream, Langdon moved to the conveyor. He slung his daybag onto the belt and then climbed on, placing his head at Katherines feet. The hard rubber conveyor felt cold against his back. He stared at the hood and felt like a hospital patient preparing for insertion headfirst into an MRI machine.Keep your address on, Bellamy said. psyche will bitch soon . . . and offer help. self-reliance him.Someone will call? Langdon knew that Bellamy had been trying to reach someone with no opportunity and had left a message earlier. And only moments ago, as they hurried down the spiral staircase, Bellamy had tried one last time and gotten through, speaking very briefly in hushed tones and then hanging up. Follow the conveyor to the end, Bellamy said. And jump off quickly sooner you circle back. Use my key card to get out.Get out of where? Langdon demanded. save Bellamy was already move levers. All the different conveyors in the room hummed to life. Langdon felt himself jolt into motion, and the ceiling began moving overhead.God save me.As Langdon approached the opening in the wall, he looked back and saw Warren Bellamy race through the doorway into the stacks, closure the door behind him. An instant later, Langdon slid into the darkness, swallowed up by the library . . . just as a glowing red laser dot came saltation down the stairs.CHAPTER 60The underpaid female security guard from Preferred guarantor double-checked the Kalorama Heights address on her call s heet. This is it? The gated driveway before her belonged to one of the neighborhoods largest and quietest estates, and so it seemed odd that 911 had just received an urgent call somewhat it.As usual with unconfirmed call-ins, 911 had contacted the local alarm company before bothering the police. The guard often thought the alarm companys mottoYour first berth of defense could just as easily have been False alarms, pranks, preoccupied pets, and complaints from wacky neighbors. tonight, as usual, the guard had arrived with no details about the specific concern. Above my pay grade. Her job was simply to show up with her lily-livered bubble light spinning, assess the property, and report anything unusual. Normally, something innocuous had tripped the house alarm, and she would use her override keys to reset it. This house, however, was silent. No alarm. From the road, everything looked dark and peaceful.The guard buzzed the intercom at the gate, but got no answer. She typed her ove rride code to open the gate and pulled into the driveway. leave her engine running and her bubble light spinning, she walked up to the front door and rang the bell. No answer. She saw no lights and no movement.Reluctantly following procedure, she flicked on her flashlight to begin her trek around the house to check the doors and windowpanes for signs of break-in. As she rounded the corner, a black stretch limousine drove past the house, slowing for a moment before continuing on. Rubbernecking neighbors.Bit by bit, she made her way around the house, but saw nothing out of place. The house was bigger than she had imagined, and by the time she reached the backyard, she was shivering from the cold. Obviously there was nobody home.Dispatch? she called in on her radio. Im on the Kalorama Heights call? Owners arent home. No signs of trouble. Finished the perimeter check. No indication of an intruder. False alarm.Roger that, the crank replied. Have a good night.The guard put her radio bac k on her belt and began retracing her steps, eager to get back to the warmth of her vehicle. As she did so, however, she spotted something she had missed earliera tiny speck of drab light on the back of the house.Puzzled, she walked over to it, now seeing the sourcea low transom window, apparently to the homes basement. The glass of the window had been blacked out, cover on the inside with an opaque paint. Some kind of darkroom whitethornbe? The juicy glow she had seen was emanating through a tiny spot on the window where the black paint had started to peel.She crouched down, trying to peer through, but she couldnt see much through the tiny opening. She tapped on the glass, wondering if maybe someone was workings down there.Hello? she shouted.There was no answer, but as she knocked on the window, the paint chip suddenly detached and fell off, affording her a more complete view. She leaned in, nearly pressing her face to the window as she scanned the basement. Instantly, she wish ed she hadnt.What in the name of God?Transfixed, she remained crouched there for a moment, staring in downhearted horror at the scene before her. Finally, trembling, the guard groped for the radio on her belt.She never found it.A sizzling pair of Taser prongs slammed into the back of her neck, and a searing pain shot through her body. Her muscles seized, and she pitched forward, unable even to close her eyes before her face hit the cold ground.CHAPTER 61Tonight was not the first time Warren Bellamy had been blindfolded. Like all of his masonic brothers, he had worn the ritual hoodwink during his ascent to the upper echelons of Masonry. That, however, had arrive atn place among trusted friends. Tonight was different. These rough- handed men had bound him, placed a bag on his head, and were now marching him through the library stacks.The agents had physically threatened Bellamy and demanded to know the whereabouts of Robert Langdon. Knowing his aging body couldnt take much punishme nt, Bellamy had told his lie quickly.Langdon never came down here with me he had said, gasping for air. I told him to go up to the balcony and hide behind the Moses statue, but I dont know where he is now The story apparently had been convincing, because two of the agents had run off in pursuit. Now the remaining two agents were marching him in silence through the stacks.Bellamys only solace was in knowing Langdon and Katherine were whisking the profit off to safety. Soon Langdon would be contacted by a man who could offer sanctuary. Trust him. The man Bellamy had called knew a great deal about the Masonic profit and the secret it heldthe location of a hidden spiral staircase that led down into the earth to the hiding place of potent ancient comprehension buried long ago. Bellamy had finally gotten through to the man as they were escaping the reading room, and he felt confident that his short message would be understood perfectly.Now, as he moved in total darkness, Bellamy pictu red the stone profit and golden capstone in Langdons bag. It has been more years since those two pieces were in the same room.Bellamy would never forget that painful night. The first of many for Peter. Bellamy had been asked to get along to the Solomon estate in Potomac for Zachary Solomons eighteenth birthday. Zachary, despite being a rebellious child, was a Solomon, which meant tonight, following family tradition, he would receive his inheritance. Bellamy was one of Peters sexual love friends and a trusted Masonic brother, and therefore was asked to attend as a witness. But it was not only the transference of property that Bellamy had been asked to witness. There was far more than money at stake tonight.Bellamy had arrived early and waited, as requested, in Peters private study. The wonderful old room smelled of leather, wood fires, and loose-leaf tea. Warren was lay when Peter led his son, Zachary, into the room. When the scrawny eighteen-year-old saw Bellamy, he frowned. W hat are you doing here?Bearing witness, Bellamy offered. Happy birthday, Zachary.The boy mumbled and looked away. Sit down, Zach, Peter said.Zachary sat in the solitary chair facing his mystifys huge wooden desk. Solomon bolted the study door. Bellamy took a seat off to one side.Solomon addressed Zachary in a serious tone. Do you know why youre here?I think so, Zachary said.Solomon sighed deeply. I know you and I have not seen eye to eye for rather some time, Zach. Ive done my best to be a good fetch and to prepare you for this moment.Zachary said nothing.As you know, every Solomon child, upon reaching adulthood, is presented with his or her birthrighta share of the Solomon fortunewhich is intended to be a bug . . . a seed for you to nurture, make grow, and use to help nourish mankind.Solomon walked to a vault in the wall, unlocked it, and removed a large black folder. Son, this portfolio contains everything you need to legally transfer your financial inheritance into your own name. He laid it on the desk. The aim is that you use this money to build a life of productivity, prosperity, and philanthropy.Zachary reached for the folder. Thanks.Hold on, his father said, putting his hand on the portfolio. Theres something else I need to explain.Zachary shot his father a contemptuous look and slumped back down.There are aspects of the Solomon inheritance of which you are not yet aware. His father was staring straight into Zacharys eyes now. You are my firstborn, Zachary, which means you are em source to a choice.The teenager sat up, looking intrigued.It is a choice that may well determine the direction of your future, and so I urge you to job it carefully.What choice?His father took a deep breath. It is the choice . . . between riches or wisdom.Zachary gave him a blank stare. wealthiness or wisdom? I dont get it. Solomon stood, walking again to the vault, where he pulled out a heavy stone profit with Masonic symbols carved into it. Peter heaved the stone on to the desk beside the portfolio. This pyramid was created long ago and has been entrusted to our family for generations.A pyramid? Zachary didnt look very excited.Son, this pyramid is a map . . . a map that reveals the location of one of humankinds great lost treasures. This map was created so that the treasure could one day be rediscovered. Peters voice swelled now with pride. And tonight, following tradition, I am able to offer it to you . . . under certain conditions.Zachary eyed the pyramid suspiciously. Whats the treasure?Bellamy could advertise that this coarse question was not what Peter had hoped for. Nonetheless, his demeanor remained steady.Zachary, its hard to explain without a lot of background. But this treasure . . . in essence . . . is something we call the Ancient Mysteries.Zachary laughed, apparently thinking his father was joking.Bellamy could see the melancholy maturation now in Peters eyes.This is very difficult for me to describe, Zach. Traditionally, by the time a Solomon is eighteen years of age, he is about to embark on his years of higher education inI told you Zachary fired back. Im not elicit in collegeI dont mean college, his father said, his voice still silence and quiet. Im talking about the brotherhood of Freemasonry. Im talking about an education in the enduring mysteries of human science. If you had plans to join me within their ranks, you would be on the verge of receiving the education necessary to understand the importance of your decision tonight.Zachary rolled his eyes. apparent me the Masonic lecture again. I know Im the first Solomon who doesnt want to join. But so what? Dont you get it? I have no interest in playing dress-up with a bunch of old menHis father was silent for a long time, and Bellamy noticed the fine age lines that had started to appear around Peters still-youthful eyes.Yes, I get it, Peter finally said. Times are different now. I understand that Masonry probably appears strange to you, or maybe eve n boring. But I want you to know, that doorway will always be open for you should you change your mind.Dont hold your breath, Zach grumbled. Thats enough Peter snapped, standing up. I realize life has been a struggle for you, Zachary, but I am not your only guidepost. There are good men hold for you, men who will welcome you within the Masonic fold and show you your true potential.Zachary chuckled and glanced over at Bellamy. Is that why youre here, Mr. Bellamy? So you Masons can conclave up on me?Bellamy said nothing, instead directing a deferent gaze back at Peter Solomona reminder to Zachary of who held the power in this room.Zachary turned back to his father.Zach, Peter said, were getting nowhere . . . so let me just tell you this. Whether or not you comprehend the right being offered to you tonight, it is my family obligation to present it. He motioned to the pyramid. It is a rare immunity to guard this pyramid. I urge you to consider this opportunity for a few days before making your decision.Opportunity? Zachary said. Babysitting a rock?There are great mysteries in this world, Zach, Peter said with a sigh. Secrets that transcend your wildest imagination. This pyramid protects those secrets. And even more important, there will come a time, probably within your lifetime, when this pyramid will at last be deciphered and its secrets unearthed. It will be a moment of great human transformation . . . and you have a chance to play a role in that moment. I want you to consider it very carefully. Wealth is commonplace, but wisdom is rare. He motioned to the portfolio and then to the pyramid. I beg you to commend that wealth without wisdom can often end in disaster.Zachary looked like he thought his father was insane. Whatever you say, Dad, but theres no way Im giving up my inheritance for this. He gestured to the pyramid.Peter folded his hands before him. If you choose to accept the responsibility, I will hold your money and the pyramid for you until you h ave successfully completed your education within the Masons. This will take years, but you will emerge with the maturity to receive both your money and this pyramid. Wealth and wisdom. A potent combination.Zachary shot up. Jesus, Dad You dont give up, do you? Cant you see that I dont give a damn about the Masons or stone pyramids and ancient mysteries? He reached down and scooped up the black portfolio, undulation it in front of his fathers face. This is my birthright The same birthright of the Solomons who came before me I cant believe youd try to trick me out of my inheritance with lame stories about ancient treasure maps He tucked the portfolio under his arm and marched past Bellamy to the studys patio door.Zachary, wait His father rushed after him as Zachary pedunculate out into the night. Whatever you do, you can never speak of the pyramid you have seen Peter Solomons voice cracked. Not to anyone Ever But Zachary ignored him, disappearing into the night.Peter Solomons gray ey es were filled with pain as he returned to his desk and sat heavily in his leather chair. After a long silence, he looked up at Bellamy and forced a sad smile. That went well.Bellamy sighed, overlap in Solomons pain. Peter, I dont mean to sound insensitive . . . but . . . do you trust him?Solomon stared blankly into space.I mean . . . Bellamy pressed, not to say anything about the pyramid?Solomons face was blank. I really dont know what to say, Warren. Im not sure I even know him anymore.Bellamy rose and walked slowly back and forth before the large desk. Peter, you have followed your family duty, but now, considering what just happened, I think we need to take precautions. I should return the capstone to you so you can find a new home for it. Someone else should watch over it.Why? Solomon asked.If Zachary tells anyone about the pyramid . . . and mentions my being present tonight . . .He knows nothing of the capstone, and hes too immature to know the pyramid has any significance. W e dont need a new home for it. Ill keep the pyramid in my vault. And you will keep the capstone wherever you keep it. As we always have.It was vi years later, on Christmas Day, with the family still healing from Zacharys death, that the enormous man claiming to have killed him in prison broke into the Solomon estate. The intruder had come for the pyramid, but he had taken with him only Isabel Solomons life.Days later, Peter summoned Bellamy to his office. He locked the door and took the pyramid out of his vault, setting it on the desk between them. I should have listened to you.Bellamy knew Peter was racked with guilt over this. It wouldnt have mattered.Solomon drew a tired breath. Did you bring the capstone?Bellamy pulled a small cube-shaped package from his pocket. The faded cook paper was tied with twine and bore a wax seal of approval of Solomons ring. Bellamy laid the package on the desk, knowing the two halves of the Masonic pyramid were closer together tonight than they sh ould be. Find someone else to watch this. Dont tell me who it is.Solomon nodded. And I know where you can hide the pyramid, Bellamy said. He told Solomon about the Capitol edifice subbasement. Theres no place in Washington more secure.Bellamy recalled Solomon liking the cerebration right away because it felt symbolically apt to hide the pyramid in the symbolic heart of our nation. Typical Solomon, Bellamy had thought. The idealist even in a crisis.Now, ten years later, as Bellamy was being shoved blindly through the Library of Congress, he knew the crisis tonight was far from over. He also now knew whom Solomon had chosen to guard the capstone . . . and he prayed to God that Robert Langdon was up to the job.