danbrown.angels&demons-第56章

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inst　his　shoulder；　pinning　it　in　place。　Careful　not　to　dislodge　it；　he　raised　both　hands　above　him。　As　the　stifling　confine　began　to　smother　him；　he　felt　a　welling　of　intensified　panic。　It　was　the　second　time　today　he　had　been　trapped　with　no　air。　Hollering　aloud；　Langdon　thrust　upward　in　one　explosive　motion。　The　casket　jostled　off　the　floor　for　an　instant。　But　long　enough。　The　bone　shard　he　had　braced　against　his　shoulder　slipped　outward　into　the　widening　crack。　When　the　casket　fell　again；　the　bone　shattered。　But　this　time　Langdon　could　see　the　casket　was　propped　up。　A　tiny　slit　of　light　showed　beneath　the　rim。
　Exhausted；　Langdon　collapsed。　Hoping　the　strangling　sensation　in　his　throat　would　pass；　he　waited。　But　it　only　worsened　as　the　seconds　passed。　Whatever　air　was　ing　through　the　slit　seemed　imperceptible。　Langdon　wondered　if　it　would　be　enough　to　keep　him　alive。　And　if　so；　for　how　long？　If　he　passed　out；　who　would　know　he　was　even　in　there？　
　With　arms　like　lead；　Langdon　raised　his　watch　again：　10：12　P。M。　Fighting　trembling　fingers；　he　fumbled　with　the　watch　and　made　his　final　play。　He　twisted　one　of　the　tiny　dials　and　pressed　a　button。
　As　consciousness　faded；　and　the　walls　squeezed　closer；　Langdon　felt　the　old　fears　sweep　over　him。　He　tried　to　imagine；　as　he　had　so　many　times；　that　he　was　in　an　open　field。　The　image　he　conjured；　however；　was　no　help。　The　nightmare　that　had　haunted　him　since　his　youth　came　crashing　back　。　。　。　
　
　The　flowers　here　are　like　paintings；　the　child　thought；　laughing　as　he　ran　across　the　meadow。　He　wished　his　parents　had　e　along。　But　his　parents　were　busy　pitching　camp。　
　〃Don't　explore　too　far；〃　his　mother　had　said。　
　He　had　pretended　not　to　hear　as　he　bounded　off　into　the　woods。　
　Now；　traversing　this　glorious　field；　the　boy　came　across　a　pile　of　fieldstones。　He　figured　it　must　be　the　foundation　of　an　old　homestead。　He　would　not　go　near　it。　He　knew　better。　Besides；　his　eyes　had　been　drawn　to　something　else…a　brilliant　lady's　slipper…the　rarest　and　most　beautiful　flower　in　New　Hampshire。　He　had　only　ever　seen　them　in　books。　
　Excited；　the　boy　moved　toward　the　flower。　He　knelt　down。　The　ground　beneath　him　felt　mulchy　and　hollow。　He　realized　his　flower　had　found　an　extra…fertile　spot。　It　was　growing　from　a　patch　of　rotting　wood。　
　Thrilled　by　the　thought　of　taking　home　his　prize；　the　boy　reached　out　。　。　。　fingers　extending　toward　the　stem。　
　He　never　reached　it。　
　With　a　sickening　crack；　the　earth　gave　way。　
　In　the　three　seconds　of　dizzying　terror　as　he　fell；　the　boy　knew　he　would　die。　Plummeting　downward；　he　braced　for　the　bone…crushing　collision。　When　it　came；　there　was　no　pain。　Only　softness。　
　And　cold。　
　He　hit　the　deep　liquid　face　first；　plunging　into　a　narrow　blackness。　Spinning　disoriented　somersaults；　he　groped　the　sheer　walls　that　enclosed　him　on　all　sides。　Somehow；　as　if　by　instinct；　he　sputtered　to　the　surface。　
　Light。　
　Faint。　Above　him。　Miles　above　him；　it　seemed。　
　His　arms　clawed　at　the　water；　searching　the　walls　of　the　hollow　for　something　to　grab　onto。　Only　smooth　stone。　He　had　fallen　through　an　abandoned　well　covering。　He　screamed　for　help；　but　his　cries　reverberated　in　the　tight　shaft。　He　called　out　again　and　again。　Above　him；　the　tattered　hole　grew　dim。　
　Night　fell。　
　Time　seemed　to　contort　in　the　darkness。　Numbness　set　in　as　he　treaded　water　in　the　depths　of　the　chasm；　calling；　crying　out。　He　was　tormented　by　visions　of　the　walls　collapsing　in；　burying　him　alive。　His　arms　ached　with　fatigue。　A　few　times　he　thought　he　heard　voices。　He　shouted　out；　but　his　own　voice　was　muted　。　。　。　like　a　dream。　
　As　the　night　wore　on；　the　shaft　deepened。　The　walls　inched　quietly　inward。　The　boy　pressed　out　against　the　enclosure；　pushing　it　away。　Exhausted；　he　wanted　to　give　up。　And　yet　he　felt　the　water　buoy　him；　cooling　his　burning　fears　until　he　was　numb。　
　When　the　rescue　team　arrived；　they　found　the　boy　barely　conscious。　He　had　been　treading　water　for　five　hours。　Two　days　later；　the　Boston　Globe　ran　a　front…page　story　called　〃The　Little　Swimmer　That　Could。〃　
　
　97

　The　Hassassin　smiled　as　he　pulled　his　van　into　the　mammoth　stone　structure　overlooking　the　Tiber　River。　He　carried　his　prize　up　and　up　。　。　。　spiraling　higher　in　the　stone　tunnel；　grateful　his　load　was　slender。　
　He　arrived　at　the　door。　
　The　Church　of　Illumination；　he　gloated。　The　ancient　Illuminati　meeting　room。　Who　would　have　imagined　it　to　be　here？　
　Inside；　he　lay　her　on　a　plush　divan。　Then　he　expertly　bound　her　arms　behind　her　back　and　tied　her　feet。　He　knew　that　what　he　longed　for　would　have　to　wait　until　his　final　task　was　finished。　Water。　
　Still；　he　thought；　he　had　a　moment　for　indulgence。　Kneeling　beside　her；　he　ran　his　hand　along　her　thigh。　It　was　smooth。　Higher。　His　dark　fingers　snaked　beneath　the　cuff　of　her　shorts。　Higher。
　He　stopped。　Patience；　he　told　himself；　feeling　aroused。　There　is　work　to　be　done。　
　He　walked　for　a　moment　out　onto　the　chamber's　high　stone　balcony。　The　evening　breeze　slowly　cooled　his　ardor。　Far　below　the　Tiber　raged。　He　raised　his　eyes　to　the　dome　of　St。　Peter's；　three　quarters　of　a　mile　away；　naked　under　the　glare　of　hundreds　of　press　lights。　
　〃Your　final　hour；〃　he　said　aloud；　picturing　the　thousands　of　Muslims　slaughtered　during　the　Crusades。　〃At　midnight　you　will　meet　your　God。〃
　Behind　him；　the　woman　stirred。　The　Hassassin　turned。　He　considered　letting　her　wake　up。　Seeing　terror　in　a　woman's　eyes　was　his　ultimate　aphrodisiac。　
　He　opted　for　prudence。　It　would　be　better　if　she　remained　unconscious　while　he　was　gone。　Although　she　was　tied　and　would　never　escape；　the　Hassassin　did　not　want　to　return　and　find　her　exhausted　from　struggling。　I　want　your　strength　preserved　。　。　。　for　me。　
　Lifting　her　head　slightly；　he　placed　his　palm　beneath　her　neck　and　found　the　hollow　directly　beneath　her　skull。　The　crown/meridian　pressure　point　was　one　he　had　used　countless　times。　With　crushing　force；　he　drove　his　thumb　into　the　soft　cartilage　and　felt　it　depress。　The　woman　slumped　instantly。Twenty　minutes；　he　thought。　She　would　be　a　tantalizing　end　to　a　perfect　day。　After　she　had　served　him　and　died　doing　it；　he　would　stand　on　the　balcony　and　watch　the　midnight　Vatican　fireworks。　
　Leaving　his　prize　unconscious　on　the　couch；　the　Hassassin　went　downstairs　into　a　torchlit　dungeon。　The　final　task。　He　walked　to　the　table　and　revered　the　sacred；　metal　forms　that　had　been　left　there　for　him。　
　Water。　It　was　his　last。　
　Removing　a　torch　from　the　wall　as　he　had　done　three　times　already；　he　began　heating　the　end。　When　the　end　of　the　object　was　white　hot；　he　carried　it　to　the　cell。　
　Inside；　a　single　man　stood　in　silence。　Old　and　alone。　
　〃Cardinal　Baggia；〃　the　killer　hissed。　〃Have　you　prayed　yet？〃
　The　Italian's　eyes　were　fearless。　〃Only　for　your　soul。〃
　
　98

　The　six　pompieri　firemen　who　responded　to　the　fire　at　the　Church　of　Santa　Maria　Della　Vittoria　extinguished　the　bonfire　with　blasts　of　Halon　gas。　Water　was　cheaper；　but　the　steam　it　created　would　have　ruined　the　frescoes　in　the　chapel；　and　the　Vatican　paid　Roman　pompieri　a　healthy　stipend　for　swift　and　prudent　service　in　all　Vatican…owned　buildings。
　Pompieri；　by　the　nature　of　their　work；　witnessed　tragedy　almost　daily；　but　the　execution　in　this　church　was　something　none　of　them　would　ever　forget。　Part　crucifixion；　part　hanging；　part　burning　at　the　stake；　the　scene　was　something　dredged　from　a　Gothic　nightmare。　
　Unfortunately；　the　press；　as　usual；　had　arrived　before　the　fire　department。　They'd　shot　plenty　of　video　before　the　pompieri　cleared　the　church。　When　the　firemen　finally　cut　the　victim　down　and　lay　him　on　the　floor；　there　was　no　doubt　who　the　man　was。
　〃Cardinale　Guidera；〃　one　whispered。　〃Di　Barcellona。〃　
　The　victim　was　nude。　The　lower　half　of　his　body　was　crimson…black；　blood　oozing　through　gaping　cracks　in　his　thighs。　His　shinbones　were　exposed。　One　fireman　vomited。　Another　went　outside　to　breathe。
　The　true　horror；　though；　was　the　symbol　seared　on　the　cardinal's　chest。　The　squad　chief　circled　the　corpse　in　awestruck　dread。　Lavoro　del　diavolo；　he　said　to　himself。　Satan　himself　did　this。　He　crossed　himself　for　the　first　time　since　childhood。
　〃Un'　altro　corpo！〃　someone　yelled。　One　of　the　firemen　had　found　another　body。　
　The　second　victim　was　a　man　the　chief　recognized　immediately。　The　austere　mander　of　the　Swiss　Guard　was　a　man　for　whom　few　public　law　enforcement　officials　had　any　affection。　The　chief　called　the　Vatican；　but　all　the　circuits　were　busy。　He　knew　it　didn't　matter。　The　Swiss　Guard　would　hear　about　this　on　television　in　a　matter　of　minutes。
　As　the　chief　surveyed　the　damage；　trying　to　recreate　what　possibly　could　have　gone　on　here；　he　saw　a　niche　riddled　with　bullet　holes。　A　coffin　had　been　rolled　off　its　supports　and　fallen　upside　down　in　an　apparent　struggle。　It　was　a　mess。　That's　for　the　police　and　Holy　See　to　deal　with；　the　chief　thought；　turning　away。
　As　he　turned；　though；　he　stopped。　ing　from　the　coffin　he　heard　a　sound。　It　was　not　a　sound　any　fireman　ever　liked　to　hear。
　〃Bomba！〃　he　cried　out。　〃Tutti　fuori！〃　
　When　the　bomb　squad　rolled　the　coffin　over；　they　discovered　the　source　of　the　electronic　beeping。　They　stared；　confused。
　〃Mиdico！〃　one　finally　screamed。　〃Mиdico！〃　
　
　99　

　Any　word　from　Olivetti？〃　the　camerlegno　asked；　looking　drained　as　Rocher　escorted　him　back　from　the　Sistine　Chapel　to　the　Pope's　office。
　〃No；　signore。　I　am　fearing　the　worst。〃
　When　they　reached　the　Pope's　office；　the　camerlegno's　voice　was　heavy。　〃Captain；　there　is　nothing　more　I　can　do　here　tonight。　I　fear　I　have　done　too　much　already。　I　am　going　into　this　office　to　pray。　I　do　not　wish　to　be　disturbed。　The　rest　is　in　God's　hands。〃
　〃Yes；　signore。〃
　〃The　hour　is　late；　Captain。　Find　that　canister。〃
　〃Our　search　continues。〃　Rocher　hesitated。　〃The　weapon　proves　to　be　too　well　hidden。〃
　The　camerlegno　winced；　as　if　he　could　not　think　of　it。　〃Yes。　At　exactly　11：15　P。M。；　if　the　church　is　still　in　peril；　I　want　you　to　evacuate　the　cardinals。　I　am　putting　their　safety　in　your　hands。　I　ask　only　one　thing。　Let　these　men　proceed　from　this　place　with　dignity。　Let　them　exit　into　St。　Peter's　Square　and　stand　side　by　side　with　the　rest　of　the　world。　I　do　not　want　the　last　image　of　this　church　to　be　frightened　old　men　sneaking　out　a　back　door。〃
　〃Very　good；　signore。　And　you？　Shall　I　e　for　you　at　11：15　as　well？〃
　〃There　will　be　no　need。〃
　〃Signore？〃
　〃I　will　leave　when　the　spirit　moves　me。〃　
　Rocher　wondered　if　the　camerlegno　intended　to　go　down　with　the　ship。　
　The　camerlegno　opened　the　door　to　the　Pope's　office　and　entered。　〃Actually　。　。　。〃　he　said；　turning。　〃There　is　one　thing。〃
　〃Signore？〃
　〃There　seems　to　be　a　chill　in　this　office　tonight。　I　am　trembling。〃
　〃The　electric　heat　is　out。　Let　me　lay　you　a　fire。〃
　The　camerlegno　smiled　tiredly。　〃Thank　you。　Thank　you；　very　much。〃
　
　Rocher　exited　the　Pope's　office　where　he　had　left　the　camerlegno　praying　by　firelight　in　front　of　a　small　statue　of　the　Blessed　Mother　Mary。　It　was　an　eerie　sight。　A　black　shadow　kneeling　in　the　flickering　glow。　As　Rocher　headed　down　the　hall；　a　guard　appeared；　running　toward　him。　Even　by　candlelight　Rocher　recognized　Lieutenant　Chartrand。　You