The Lost Symbol Chapter 58-61

CHAPTER 58The coyly nicknamed explosive Key4 had been developed by Special Forces specifically for opening locked doors with minimal collateral damage. Consisting primarily of cyclo garnisheeethylenetrinitramine with a diethylhexyl plasticizer, it was essentially a piece of C-4 rolled into topic-thin sheets for insertion into doorjambs. In the case of the subroutine librarys reading mode, the explosive had worked perfectly.Operation leader comp anent Turner Simkins stepped over the wreckage of the doors and scanned the massive octagonal counselling of sprightliness for any theatres of move ment. Nothing.Kill the igniters, Simkins said.A second ingredient found the wall panel, threw the switches, and plunged the room into darkness. In unison, all four men reached up and yanked down pat(p) their night-vision headgear, adjusting the explore over their eyeball. They stood motionless, surveying the reading room, which at unrivalled time materialized in shades of luminescen t green inside their goggles.The position remained unchanged.Nobody made a dash for it in the dark. The fugitives were in all likelihood unarmed, and yet the field team up entered the room with weapons raise. In the darkness, their firearms projected four menacing rods of laser light. The men washed the beams in all directions, crossways the floor, up the far walls, into the balconies, probing the darkness. Of xtimes, a mere glimpse of a laser-sighted weapon in a darkened room was enough to induce instant surrender.Apparently non tonight.Still no movement. component Simkins raised his hand, motioning his team into the space. Silently, the men fanned out. Moving cautiously up the center aisle, Simkins reached up and flipped a switch on his goggles, activating the newest addition to the CIAs arsenal. Thermal imaging had been some for years, tho recent advances in miniaturization, differential sensitivity, and dual- obtain integration had facilitated a new generation of vision enhancing equipment that gave field agents eyesight that bordered on super humankind.We chit-chat in the dark. We see by dint of walls. And now . . . we see back in time.Thermal-imaging equipment had become so sensitive to heat differentials that it could detect non only a persons location . . . nevertheless their previous locations. The super military group to see into the past often proved the most valuable asset of all. And tonight, once again, it proved its worth. mover Simkins now spied a thermal signature at one of the reading desks. The two wooden chairs luminesced in his goggles, registering a reddish-purple color, indicating those chairs were warmer than the other chairs in the room. The desk lamps bulb glowed orange. Obviously the two men had been sitting at the desk, only if the question now was in which direction they had gone.He found his answer on the primal counter that surrounded the giant wooden console in the middle of the room. A ghostly handprint, desi rous crimson.Weapon raised, Simkins go toward the octagonal cabinet, training his laser sight across the surface. He circled until he maxim an opening in the side of the console. Did they really corner themselves in a cabinet? The agent scanned the trim close to the opening and axiom another glowing handprint on it. Clearly psyche had grabbed the doorjamb as he ducked inside the console.The time for silence was over.Thermal signature Simkins shouted, pointing at the opening. Flanks convergeHis two flanks moved in from opposite sides, effectively surrounding the octagonal console.Simkins moved toward the opening. Still ten feet away, he could see a light source deep down. Light inside the console he shouted, hoping the sound of his voice readiness convince Mr. Bellamy and Mr. Langdon to exit the cabinet with their custody up. Nothing happened.Fine, well do this the other way.As Simkins drew close-set(prenominal) to the opening, he could hear an unexpected hum rumbling from within. It sounded wish well machinery. He paused, trying to imagine what could be making such 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 thresh centenarian, he peered through with(p) the opening. What model beyond was unexpected. The console was less of a cabinet than a raised ceiling over a exorbitant 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 every step.What the hell is this place?The room beneath the reading room was a small, industrial-looking space. The hum he hear was indeed machinery, although he was not sure whether it was running because Bellamy and Langdon had activated it, or because it ran around the clock. Either way, it clearly made no difference. The fugiti ves had left wing their proclaimtale heat signatures on the rooms lone exita sour steel door whose computer secernboard showed 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 underground world hunch overn here as the hemorrhoid.The library of congress had miles and miles of bookshelves, most of them underground. The endless rows of shelves looked like some kind of infinity optical illusion created with mirrors.A sign announcedTEMPERATURE-CONTROLLED ENVIRONMENTKeep this door closed at all times.Simkins pushed through the mangled doors and felt up cool air beyond. He couldnt help further smile. Could this get any easier? Heat signatures in contro lled 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 past. You can run, he whispered to himself, but you cant brood.As Simkins and his team advanced into the maze of stacks, he realized the playing field was tipped so heavily in his favor that he would not even need his goggles to track his prey. nether normal circumstances, this maze of stacks would have been a respectable hiding place, but the Library of coitus used motion-activated lights to save energy, and the fugitives escape route was now lit up like a runway. A narrow strip of illumination stretched into the distance, dodging and weaving as it went.All the men ripped off their goggles. surge ahead on well-trained legs, the field team followed the trail of lights, zigging and zagging through a seemingly endless snarl of books. Soon Simkins began seeing lights flickering on in the darkness up ahead . Were gaining. He pushed harder, faster, until he heard beaksteps and labored breathing ahead. Then he saw a target.Ive got visual he yelled.The lanky wee of Warren Bellamy was apparently bringing up the rear. The primly dressed African American staggered through the stacks, evidently out of breath. Its no use, old man.Stop right there, Mr. Bellamy Simkins yelled.Bellamy kept running, turning sharp 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 rifle raised it and fired. The projectile that launched down the aisle and wrapped itself around Bellamys legs was nicknamed Silly String, but there was postcode vertiginous nigh it. A military technology invented at Sandia National Laboratories, this nonlethal incapacitant was a thread of crappy polyurethane that turned rock hard on contact, creating a rigid 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 moving 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 keep 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-black. Obviously, there was no one else running in front of Bellamy. Hes alone(predicate)?Bellamy was passiveness 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 get up his foot and placed his boot squarely on Bellamys pristine silk tie. Then he leaned in, applying some pressure. view 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 total 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 fleeting glimpse of his frightening predicament.The space around him was small.Very small.Sixty seconds ago, with the double 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 heart of the librarys circulation system. Resembling a small airport baggage distribution center, the circulation room had numerous conveyor belts that angled off 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 great distances by a system of conveyors through a web of underground tunnels.Bellamy immediately cross the room to a steel door, where he inserted his mainstay 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 few people ever saw. The Library of Congress stacks. He felt boost by Bellamys plan. What better place to hide than in a giant labyrinth?Bellamy did not draw in them into the stacks, however. Instead, he propped the door open with a book and turned back to face them. I had hoped to be able to explain a lot more to you, but we have no time. He gave Langdon his key card. Youll need this.Youre not coming with us? Langdon asked.Bellamy shook his head. Youll never make it unless we split up. The most classic thing is to keep that gain and cap jewel 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 supposed(a) to go, Bellamy was heaving a large crate of books off one of the conveyors. Lie on the belt, Bellamy said. Keep your hands in.Langdon stared. You cannot be serious The conveyor belt extended a misfortunate distance accordingly disappeared into a dark hole in the wall. The opening looked large enough to permit passage of a crate of books, but not much more. Langdon glanced back longingly at the stacks.Forget it, Bellamy said. The motion-sensor lights result make it out(predicate) to hide.Thermal signature a voice up the stairs shouted. Flanks convergeKatherine apparently had heard all she needful to hear. She climbed onto th e 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 quill.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 ceiling and felt like a hospital patient preparing for insertion headfirst into an MRI machine.Keep your phone on, Bellamy said. Someone bequeath call soon . . . and offer help. Trust him.Someone will call? Langdon knew that Bellamy had been trying to reach someone with no luck and had left a message earlier. And only bits ago, as they hurried down the helical staircase, Bellamy had tried one last time and gotten through, emiting very briefly in hushed tones and then hanging up. Follow the conveyor to the end, Bellamy said. And jump off quickly ahead you circle back. Use my key card to get out.Get out of where? Langdon demanded.But Bellamy was already pulling 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, closing the door bed him. An instant later, Langdon slid into the darkness, swallowed up by the library . . . just as a glowing red laser dot came dancing down the stairs.CHAPTER 60The underpaid female security halt from Preferred Security double-checked the Kalorama high gear address on her call sheet. This is it? The gated driveway forrader her belonged to one of the neighborhoods largest and quietest estates, and so it seemed odd that 911 had just lawful an urgent call about it.As usual with unconfirmed call-ins, 911 had contacted the local ala rm company before bothering the police. The guard often thought the alarm companys mottoYour first line of defense could just as easily have been False alarms, pranks, lost 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 yellow 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 override code to open the gate and pulled into the driveway. Leaving her locomotive 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 flashlig ht to begin her trek around the house to check the doors and windows 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. pip? she called in on her radio. Im on the Kalorama Heights call? Owners arent home. No signs of trouble. Finished the perimeter check. No recitation of an intruder. False alarm.Roger that, the dispatcher replied. Have a redeeming(prenominal) night.The guard put her radio back 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 niggling speck of bluish 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, coated on the inside with an unclear paint. Some kind of darkroom maybe? The bluish 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 working 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 staring(a) view. She leaned in, nearly pressing her face to the window as she scanned the basement. Instantly, she wished she hadnt.What in the name of God?Transfixed, she remained crouched there for a moment, staring in abject 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 childs play 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 timid the ritual hoodwink during his ascent to the upper echelons of Masonry. That, however, had taken 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 realise the whereabouts of Robert Langdon. Knowing his aging body couldnt take much punishment, 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, becau se two of the agents had run off in pursuit. Now the stay two agents were marching him in silence through the stacks.Bellamys only solace was in discriminating Langdon and Katherine were whisking the benefit 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 Pyramid and the secret it heldthe location of a hidden corkscrew staircase that led down into the earth to the hiding place of potent ancient wisdom interred 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 pictured the stone pyramid and golden stretcher in Langdons bag. It has been many years since those two pieces were in the same room.Bellamy would never forget that painful night. The first of many for creature. Bellamy had been asked to come to the Sol omon estate in Potomac for Zachary Solomons eighteenth birthday. Zachary, despite existence a rebellious child, was a Solomon, which meant tonight, following family tradition, he would receive his inheritance. Bellamy was one of Peters dearest friends and a trusted Masonic brother, and therefore was asked to attend as a witness. But it was not only the transference of funds that Bellamy had been asked to witness. There was far more than money at stake tonight.Bellamy had arrived early and watched, as requested, in Peters one-on-one study. The wonderful old room smelled of welt, wood fires, and loose-leaf tea. Warren was seated when Peter led his son, Zachary, into the room. When the scrawny eighteen-year-old saw Bellamy, he frowned. What 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 preceptors huge wooden desk. Solomon bolted the study door. B ellamy took a seat off to one side.Solomon addressed Zachary in a serious tone. Do you know why youre here?I moot so, Zachary said.Solomon sighed deeply. I know you and I have not seen eye to eye for quite some time, Zach. Ive done my best to be a good military chaplain and to prepare you for this moment.Zachary said nothing.As you know, every Solomon child, upon orbit adulthood, is presented with his or her birthrighta share of the Solomon fortunewhich is intended to be a seed . . . 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 withdraw 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 so mething 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 sequential into Zacharys eyes now. You are my firstborn, Zachary, which means you are entitled to a alternative.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 ponder it carefully.What choice?His father took a deep breath. It is the choice . . . between wealth or wisdom.Zachary gave him a blank stare. riches or wisdom? I dont get it. Solomon stood, walking again to the vault, where he pulled out a heavy stone pyramid with Masonic symbols carved into it. Peter heaved the stone onto 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 o ne of humankinds greatest lost treasures. This map was created so that the treasure could one day be rediscovered. Peters voice braggy 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 enjoin 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 growing 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 interested in collegeI dont mean college, his father said, his voice still calm 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 finality tonight.Zachary rolled his eyes. Spare 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 even boring. But I want you to know, that doorway will forever and a day be open for you should you change your mind.Dont corroborate your breath, Zach grumbled. Thats enough Peter snapped, standing up. I realize life has been a struggle for y ou, Zachary, but I am not your only guidepost. There are good men waiting 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 gang up on me?Bellamy said nothing, preferably directing a respectful 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 responsibility being offered to you tonight, it is my family obligation to present it. He motioned to the pyramid. It is a exalted privilege 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 protect s 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 remember 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 have 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.Za chary 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, waving 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 spunky 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 stalked 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 eyes 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, communion in Solomons p ain. 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. wherefore? 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. We 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 six years later, on Christmas Day, with the family still healin g 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, reach 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 brown paper was tied with twine and bore a wax seal of Solomons ring. Bellamy laid the package on the desk, knowing the two halves of the Masonic Pyramid were closer together tonight than they should 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 Building subbasement. Theres no place in Washing ton more secure.Bellamy recalled Solomon liking the idea 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.