danbrown.angels&demons-第43章

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　〃Can't　transmit　until　we　stop　and　get　a　fixed　cell　read。〃
　Glick　gunned　the　van　onto　Via　Cola　di　Rienzo。　〃Can't　stop　now。〃　He　tailed　the　Alpha　Romeos　through　a　hard　left　swerve　around　Piazza　Risorgimento。
　Macri　held　on　to　her　puter　gear　in　back　as　everything　slid。　〃Break　my　transmitter；〃　she　warned；　〃and　we'll　have　to　walk　this　footage　to　London。〃
　〃Sit　tight；　love。　Something　tells　me　we're　almost　there。〃
　Macri　looked　up。　〃Where？〃
　Glick　gazed　out　at　the　familiar　dome　now　looming　directly　in　front　of　them。　He　smiled。　〃Right　back　where　we　started。〃
　
　The　four　Alpha　Romeos　slipped　deftly　into　traffic　surrounding　St。　Peter's　Square。　They　split　up　and　spread　out　along　the　piazza　perimeter；　quietly　unloading　men　at　select　points。　The　debarking　guards　moved　into　the　throng　of　tourists　and　media　vans　on　the　edge　of　the　square　and　instantly　became　invisible。　Some　of　the　guards　entered　the　forest　of　pillars　enpassing　the　colonnade。　They　too　seemed　to　evaporate　into　the　surroundings。　As　Langdon　watched　through　the　windshield；　he　sensed　a　noose　tightening　around　St。　Peter's。　
　In　addition　to　the　men　Olivetti　had　just　dispatched；　the　mander　had　radioed　ahead　to　the　Vatican　and　sent　additional　undercover　guards　to　the　center　where　Bernini's　West　Ponente　was　located。　As　Langdon　looked　out　at　the　wide…open　spaces　of　St。　Peter's　Square；　a　familiar　question　nagged。　How　does　the　Illuminati　assassin　plan　to　get　away　with　this？　How　will　he　get　a　cardinal　through　all　these　people　and　kill　him　in　plain　view？　Langdon　checked　his　Mickey　Mouse　watch。　It　was　8：54　P。M。　Six　minutes。
　In　the　front　seat；　Olivetti　turned　and　faced　Langdon　and　Vittoria。　〃I　want　you　two　right　on　top　of　this　Bernini　brick　or　block　or　whatever　the　hell　it　is。　Same　drill。　You're　tourists。　Use　the　phone　if　you　see　anything。〃
　Before　Langdon　could　respond；　Vittoria　had　his　hand　and　was　pulling　him　out　of　the　car。
　The　springtime　sun　was　setting　behind　St。　Peter's　Basilica；　and　a　massive　shadow　spread；　engulfing　the　piazza。　Langdon　felt　an　ominous　chill　as　he　and　Vittoria　moved　into　the　cool；　black　umbra。　Snaking　through　the　crowd；　Langdon　found　himself　searching　every　face　they　passed；　wondering　if　the　killer　was　among　them。　Vittoria's　hand　felt　warm。　
　As　they　crossed　the　open　expanse　of　St。　Peter's　Square；　Langdon　sensed　Bernini's　sprawling　piazza　having　the　exact　effect　the　artist　had　been　missioned　to　create…that　of　〃humbling　all　those　who　entered。〃　Langdon　certainly　felt　humbled　at　the　moment。　Humbled　and　hungry；　he　realized；　surprised　such　a　mundane　thought　could　enter　his　head　at　a　moment　like　this。
　〃To　the　obelisk？〃　Vittoria　asked。
　Langdon　nodded；　arching　left　across　the　piazza。
　〃Time？〃　Vittoria　asked；　walking　briskly；　but　casually。
　〃Five　of。〃
　Vittoria　said　nothing；　but　Langdon　felt　her　grip　tighten。　He　was　still　carrying　the　gun。　He　hoped　Vittoria　would　not　decide　she　needed　it。　He　could　not　imagine　her　whipping　out　a　weapon　in　St。　Peter's　Square　and　blowing　away　the　kneecaps　of　some　killer　while　the　global　media　looked　on。　Then　again；　an　incident　like　that　would　be　nothing　pared　to　the　branding　and　murder　of　a　cardinal　out　here。
　Air；　Langdon　thought。　The　second　element　of　science。　He　tried　to　picture　the　brand。　The　method　of　murder。　Again　he　scanned　the　sprawling　expanse　of　granite　beneath　his　feet…St。　Peter's　Square…an　open　desert　surrounded　by　Swiss　Guard。　If　the　Hassassin　really　dared　attempt　this；　Langdon　could　not　imagine　how　he　would　escape。
　In　the　center　of　the　piazza　rose　Caligula's　350…ton　Egyptian　obelisk。　It　stretched　eighty…one　feet　skyward　to　the　pyramidal　apex　onto　which　was　affixed　a　hollow　iron　cross。　Sufficiently　high　to　catch　the　last　of　the　evening　sun；　the　cross　shone　as　if　magic　。　。　。　purportedly　containing　relics　of　the　cross　on　which　Christ　was　crucified。　
　Two　fountains　flanked　the　obelisk　in　perfect　symmetry。　Art　historians　knew　the　fountains　marked　the　exact　geometric　focal　points　of　Bernini's　elliptical　piazza；　but　it　was　an　architectural　oddity　Langdon　had　never　really　considered　until　today。　It　seemed　Rome　was　suddenly　filled　with　ellipses；　pyramids；　and　startling　geometry。
　As　they　neared　the　obelisk；　Vittoria　slowed。　She　exhaled　heavily；　as　if　coaxing　Langdon　to　relax　along　with　her。　Langdon　made　the　effort；　lowering　his　shoulders　and　loosening　his　clenched　jaw。　
　Somewhere　around　the　obelisk；　boldly　positioned　outside　the　largest　church　in　the　world；　was　the　second　altar　of　science…Bernini's　West　Ponente…an　elliptical　block　in　St。　Peter's　Square。　
　
　Gunther　Glick　watched　from　the　shadows　of　the　pillars　surrounding　St。　Peter's　Square。　On　any　other　day　the　man　in　the　tweed　jacket　and　the　woman　in　khaki　shorts　would　not　have　interested　him　in　the　least。　They　appeared　to　be　nothing　but　tourists　enjoying　the　square。　But　today　was　not　any　other　day。　Today　had　been　a　day　of　phone　tips；　corpses；　unmarked　cars　racing　through　Rome；　and　men　in　tweed　jackets　climbing　scaffolding　in　search　of　God　only　knew　what。　Glick　would　stay　with　them。
　He　looked　out　across　the　square　and　saw　Macri。　She　was　exactly　where　he　had　told　her　to　go；　on　the　far　side　of　the　couple；　hovering　on　their　flank。　Macri　carried　her　video　camera　casually；　but　despite　her　imitation　of　a　bored　member　of　the　press；　she　stood　out　more　than　Glick　would　have　liked。　No　other　reporters　were　in　this　far　corner　of　the　square；　and　the　acronym　〃BBC〃　stenciled　on　her　camera　was　drawing　some　looks　from　tourists。
　The　tape　Macri　had　shot　earlier　of　the　naked　body　dumped　in　the　trunk　was　playing　at　this　very　moment　on　the　VCR　transmitter　back　in　the　van。　Glick　knew　the　images　were　sailing　over　his　head　right　now　en　route　to　London。　He　wondered　what　editorial　would　say。　
　He　wished　he　and　Macri　had　reached　the　body　sooner；　before　the　army　of　plainclothed　soldiers　had　intervened。　The　same　army；　he　knew；　had　now　fanned　out　and　surrounded　this　piazza。　Something　big　was　about　to　happen。
　The　media　is　the　right　arm　of　anarchy；　the　killer　had　said。　Glick　wondered　if　he　had　missed　his　chance　for　a　big　scoop。　He　looked　out　at　the　other　media　vans　in　the　distance　and　watched　Macri　tailing　the　mysterious　couple　across　the　piazza。　Something　told　Glick　he　was　still　in　the　game　。　。　。　
　
　74

　Langdon　saw　what　he　was　looking　for　a　good　ten　yards　before　they　reached　it。　Through　the　scattered　tourists；　the　white　marble　ellipse　of　Bernini's　West　Ponente　stood　out　against　the　gray　granite　cubes　that　made　up　the　rest　of　the　piazza。　Vittoria　apparently　saw　it　too。　Her　hand　tensed。
　〃Relax；〃　Langdon　whispered。　〃Do　your　piranha　thing。〃
　Vittoria　loosened　her　grip。
　As　they　drew　nearer；　everything　seemed　forbiddingly　normal。　Tourists　wandered；　nuns　chatted　along　the　perimeter　of　the　piazza；　a　girl　fed　pigeons　at　the　base　of　the　obelisk。　
　Langdon　refrained　from　checking　his　watch。　He　knew　it　was　almost　time。
　The　elliptical　stone　arrived　beneath　their　feet；　and　Langdon　and　Vittoria　slowed　to　a　stop…not　overeagerly…just　two　tourists　pausing　dutifully　at　a　point　of　mild　interest。
　〃West　Ponente；〃　Vittoria　said；　reading　the　inscription　on　the　stone。
　Langdon　gazed　down　at　the　marble　relief　and　felt　suddenly　naпve。　Not　in　his　art　books；　not　in　his　numerous　trips　to　Rome；　not　ever　had　West　Ponente's　significance　jumped　out　at　him。　
　Not　until　now。
　The　relief　was　elliptical；　about　three　feet　long；　and　carved　with　a　rudimentary　face…a　depiction　of　the　West　Wind　as　an　angel…like　countenance。　Gusting　from　the　angel's　mouth；　Bernini　had　drawn　a　powerful　breath　of　air　blowing　outward　away　from　the　Vatican　。　。　。　the　breath　of　God。　This　was　Bernini's　tribute　to　the　second　element　。　。　。　Air　。　。　。　an　ethereal　zephyr　blown　from　angel's　lips。　As　Langdon　stared；　he　realized　the　significance　of　the　relief　went　deeper　still。　Bernini　had　carved　the　air　in　five　distinct　gusts　。　。　。　five！　What　was　more；　flanking　the　medallion　were　two　shining　stars。　Langdon　thought　of　Galileo。　Two　stars；　five　gusts；　ellipses；　symmetry　。　。　。　He　felt　hollow。　His　head　hurt。　
　Vittoria　began　walking　again　almost　immediately；　leading　Langdon　away　from　the　relief。　〃I　think　someone's　following　us；〃　she　said。
　Langdon　looked　up。　〃Where？〃
　Vittoria　moved　a　good　thirty　yards　before　speaking。　She　pointed　up　at　the　Vatican　as　if　showing　Langdon　something　on　the　dome。　〃The　same　person　has　been　behind　us　all　the　way　across　the　square。〃　Casually；　Vittoria　glanced　over　her　shoulder。　〃Still　on　us。　Keep　moving。〃
　〃You　think　it's　the　Hassassin？〃
　Vittoria　shook　her　head。　〃Not　unless　the　Illuminati　hires　women　with　BBC　cameras。〃
　
　When　the　bells　of　St。　Peter's　began　their　deafening　clamor；　both　Langdon　and　Vittoria　jumped。　It　was　time。　They　had　circled　away　from　West　Ponente　in　an　attempt　to　lose　the　reporter　but　were　now　moving　back　toward　the　relief。
　Despite　the　clanging　bells；　the　area　seemed　perfectly　calm。　Tourists　wandered。　A　homeless　drunk　dozed　awkwardly　at　the　base　of　the　obelisk。　A　little　girl　fed　pigeons。　Langdon　wondered　if　the　reporter　had　scared　the　killer　off。　Doubtful；　he　decided；　recalling　the　killer's　promise。　I　will　make　your　cardinals　media　luminaries。　
　As　the　echo　of　the　ninth　bell　faded　away；　a　peaceful　silence　descended　across　the　square。
　Then　。　。　。　the　little　girl　began　to　scream。
　
　75

　Langdon　was　the　first　to　reach　the　screaming　girl。　
　The　terrified　youngster　stood　frozen；　pointing　at　the　base　of　the　obelisk　where　a　shabby；　decrepit　drunk　sat　slumped　on　the　stairs。　The　man　was　a　miserable　sight　。　。　。　apparently　one　of　Rome's　homeless。　His　gray　hair　hung　in　greasy　strands　in　front　of　his　face；　and　his　entire　body　was　wrapped　in　some　sort　of　dirty　cloth。　The　girl　kept　screaming　as　she　scampered　off　into　the　crowd。
　Langdon　felt　an　upsurge　of　dread　as　he　dashed　toward　the　invalid。　There　was　a　dark；　widening　stain　spreading　across　the　man's　rags。　Fresh；　flowing　blood。　
　Then；　it　was　as　if　everything　happened　at　once。　
　The　old　man　seemed　to　crumple　in　the　middle；　tottering　forward。　Langdon　lunged；　but　he　was　too　late。　The　man　pitched　forward；　toppled　off　the　stairs；　and　hit　the　pavement　facedown。　Motionless。　
　Langdon　dropped　to　his　knees。　Vittoria　arrived　beside　him。　A　crowd　was　gathering。
　Vittoria　put　her　fingers　on　the　man's　throat　from　behind。　〃There's　a　pulse；〃　she　declared。　〃Roll　him。〃
　Langdon　was　already　in　motion。　Grasping　the　man's　shoulders；　he　rolled　the　body。　As　he　did；　the　loose　rags　seemed　to　slough　away　like　dead　flesh。　The　man　flopped　limp　onto　his　back。　Dead　center　of　his　naked　chest　was　a　wide　area　of　charred　flesh。　
　Vittoria　gasped　and　pulled　back。
　Langdon　felt　paralyzed；　pinned　somewhere　between　nausea　and　awe。　The　symbol　had　a　terrifying　simplicity　to　it。
　
　
　
　〃Air；〃　Vittoria　choked。　〃It's　。　。　。　him。〃
　Swiss　Guards　appeared　from　out　of　nowhere；　shouting　orders；　racing　after　an　unseen　assassin。
　Nearby；　a　tourist　explained　that　only　minutes　ago；　a　dark…skinned　man　had　been　kind　enough　to　help　this　poor；　wheezing；　homeless　man　across　the　square　。　。　。　even　sitting　a　moment　on　the　stairs　with　the　invalid　before　disappearing　back　into　the　crowd。
　Vittoria　ripped　the　rest　of　the　rags　off　the　man's　abdomen。　He　had　two　deep　puncture　wounds；　one　on　either　side　of　the　brand；　just　below　his　rib　cage。　Sh