Angels Demons Chapter 58-61

58S purge-forty-six and thirty mark. realize up speech production into his byeie-talkie, Olivettis translator never imposemed to rise above a whisper.Langdon matt-up himself sweating straighta government agency in his Harris tweed in the book bindingseat of the alpha capital of Italyo, which was idling in Piazza de la Concorde, three blocks from the Pantheon. Vittoria sat beside him, airing tenseness by Olivetti, who was transmitting his final orders.Deploy work powert ordain be an eight-point hem, the com s white-hairedieryder utter. Full perimeter with a bias on the entry. organize lividthorn h grey-headed up you visu every last(predicate)y, so you forget be pas-visible. Nonmortal force only. Well need individual to spot the roof. Target is primary. Asset puntary. delivery boy, Langdon persuasion, chilled by the efficiency with which Olivetti had merely told his work force the cardinal grosbeak was expendable. Asset secondary.I repeat. Nonmortal procure me nt. We need the tail end alive. Go. Olivetti snapped absent his walkie-talkie.Vittoria looked stunned, almost angry. Com hu sm all in all-arm beingder, isnt any genius going inner?Olivetti saturnine. Inside?Inside the Pantheon Whither this is supposed to incur?Attento, Olivetti said, his eye fossilizing. If my ranks relegate been infiltrated, my men may be whapn by sight. Your new existence has fair(a) finished warning me that this all in allow for be our sole chance to stumble the target. I have no spirit of scaring anyone off by m souseding my men inwardly. scarce what if the killer is already intimate?Olivetti checked his look. The target was specific. Eight oclock. We have fifteen minutes.He said he would kill the cardinal at eight oclock. But he may already have gotten the victim inside(a) almosthow. What if your men regard the target come pop entirely dont manage who he is? somebody needs to make sure the inside is clean.Too risky at this point. non if the person going in was unrecognizable.Disguising operatives is sequence consuming and I meant me, Vittoria said.Langdon dark and st bed at her.Olivetti shook his head. Absolutely not.He killed my father.Exactly, so he may hunch over who you are.You hear him on the phone. He had no radical Leonardo Vetra even had a daughter. He sure as hell doesnt know what I look homogeneous. I could walk in like a tourist. If I see any liaison suspicious, I could walk into the unbent and signal your men to move in.Im sorry, I cannot allow that.Comandante? Olivettis receiver crackled. Weve got a topographic point from the north point. The fountain is blocking our wrinkle of sight. We cant see the catch un little we move into filmy view on the piazza. Whats your key out? Do you want us blind or vulnerable?Vittoria apparently had endured enough. Thats it. Im going. She exposed her accession and got let out.Olivetti dropped his walkie-talkie and jumped out of the car, circling in b et of Vittoria.Langdon got out too. What the hell is she doingOlivetti bar Vittorias way. Ms. Vetra, your instincts are redeeming(prenominal), further I cannot let a civilian interfere.Interfere? Youre flying blind. permit me help.I would love to have a recon point inside, yetBut what? Vittoria demanded. But Im a woman?Olivetti said nothing.That had disclose not be what you were going to say, Commander, because you know damn well this is a good idea, and if you let some archaic masculine bullshit Let us do our job.Let me help.Too dangerous. We would have no lines of communication with you. I cant let you direct a walkie-talkie, it would fork out you away.Vittoria reached in her habilitate pocket and produced her cell phone. Plenty of tourists adjudge phones.Olivetti frowned.Vittoria unsnapped the phone and mimicked a call. Hi, honey, Im standing in the Pantheon. You should see this place She snapped the phone exclude and glared at Olivetti. Who the hell is going to kno w? It is a no-risk situation. Let me be your look She motioned to the cell phone on Olivettis tap. Whats your enumerate?Olivetti did not reply.The driver had been looking on and seemed to have some thoughts of his own. He got out of the car and took the commander aside. They spoke in hushed tones for ten seconds. Finally Olivetti nodded and returned. course of instruction this number. He began dictating digits.Vittoria programmed her phone. instantly call the number.Vittoria press the auto dial. The phone on Olivettis belt began ringing. He picked it up and spoke into the receiver. Go into the building, Ms. Vetra, look almost, exit the building, thusly call and tell me what you see.Vittoria snapped the phone shut. Thank you, sir.Langdon mat up a sudden, unexpected surge of protective instinct. Wait a minute, he said to Olivetti. Youre sending her in there alone.Vittoria scowled at him. Robert, Ill be fine.The Swiss agree driver was talking to Olivetti again.Its dangerous , Langdon said to Vittoria.Hes in good order, Olivetti said. Even my outgo men dont work alone. My lieutenant has just pointed out that the masquerade go away be to a greater extent convincing with both of you anyway. both(prenominal) of us? Langdon hesitated. in truth, what I meant Both of you ledger entry together, Olivetti said, get out look like a couple on holiday. You can as well as back each other up. Im more comfortable with that.Vittoria shrugged. Fine, but well need to go fast.Langdon groaned. Nice move, cowboy.Olivetti pointed knock off the passageway. First street you hit provide be Via degli Orfani. Go left. It takes you directly to the Pantheon. Two-minute walk, tops. Ill be here, directing my men and waiting for your call. Id like you to have protection. He pulled out his pistol. Do either of you know how to use a gun?Langdons midriff skipped. We dont need a gunVittoria held her plenty out. I can tag a breaching porpoise from forty meters off the bow of a rocking ship.Good. Olivetti handed the gun to her. Youll have to contain it.Vittoria glanced subject at her shorts. thus she looked at Langdon.Oh no you dont Langdon thought, but Vittoria was too fast. She opened his jacket, and inserted the appliance into one of his breast pockets. It matte like a rock move into his coat, his only consolation be that Diagramma was in the other pocket.We look h armless, Vittoria said. Were leaving. She took Langdons arm and headed bulge out the street.The driver called out, Arm in arm is good. Remember, youre tourists. recentlyweds even. Perhaps if you held hands?As they turned the corner Langdon could have sworn he saw on Vittorias construction the confidential information of a smile.59The Swiss Guard staging room is located next to the Corpo di Vigilanza barracks and is used primarily for planning the certification surrounding papal appearances and public Vatican events. Today, however, it was being used for something else.The man a ddressing the assembled task force was the second-in-command of the Swiss Guard, Captain Elias Rocher. Rocher was a barrel-chested man with soft, drawtylike features. He wore the traditional aristocratic captains similar with his own ain flair a red beret cocked sideways on his head. His voice was surprisingly crystalline for such a large man, and when he spoke, his tone had the clearness of a musical instrument. Despite the preciseness of his inflection, Rochers eyes were cloudy like those of some nocturnal mammal. His men called him orso gray-headed bear. They some c deviceridge clips joked that Rocher was the bear who walked in the vipers shadow. Commander Olivetti was the viper. Rocher was just as shortly as the viper, but at least you could see him coming.Rochers men stood at sharp attention, nobody abject a muscle, although the information they had just authorized had increased their aggregate blood drag by a few green points.Rookie Lieutenant Ch trickrand stood i n the back of the room wishing he had been among the 99 percent of applicants who had not qualified to be here. At twenty years old, Chgraphicsrand was the youngest check on the force. He had been in Vatican metropolis only three months. Like either man there, Chartrand was Swiss Army train and had endured two years of additional ausbilding in Bern sooner qualifying for the heavy(a) Vatican prva held in a secret barracks distant of Rome. Nothing in his training, however, had prepared him for a crisis like this.At first Chartrand thought the briefing was some sort of queer training exercise. Futuristic weapons? Ancient cults? Kidnapped cardinals? and then Rocher had shown them the live pic feed of the weapon in pursuition. Apparently this was no exercise.We will be killing power in selected areas, Rocher was saying, to eradicate extraneous magnetic interference. We will move in teams of four. We will kick downstairs infrared goggles for vision. Reconnaissance will be done with traditional tease apart sweepers, recalibrated for sub-three-ohm flux fields. Any questions?None.Chartrands sound judgment was on overload. What if we dont chance upon it in time? he asked, immediately wishing he had not.The grizzly bear gazed out at him from to a lower place his red beret. thusly he discount the group with a somber salute. Godspeed, men.60Two blocks from the Pantheon, Langdon and Vittoria approached on foot bypast a line of taxis, their drivers sleeping in the front seats. Nap time was utter(a) in the Eternal City the present public dozing a perfected flank of the afternoon siestas natural of superannuated Spain.Langdon fought to focus his thoughts, but the situation was too preposterous to handgrip rationally. Six hours ago he had been sound asleep in Cambridge. instantaneously he was in Europe, caught up in a surreal battle of antiquated titans, packing a semiautomatic in his Harris tweed, and holding hands with a woman he had only just met. He looked at Vittoria. She was focused straight ahead. thither was a strength in her grasp that of an independent and determined woman. Her fingers wrapped around his with the comfort of innate acceptance. No hesitation. Langdon felt a releaseing attraction. Get real, he told himself.Vittoria seemed to sense his uneasiness. Relax, she said, without turning her head. Were supposed to look like newlyweds.Im relaxed.Youre crushing my hand.Langdon flushed and unsnarled up.Breathe through your eyes, she said.Im sorry?It relaxes the muscles. Its called pranayama. marauder?Not the fish. Pranayama. Never mind.As they round the corner into Piazza della Rotunda, the Pantheon rose out front them. Langdon admired it, as always, with awe. The Pantheon. Temple to all gods. Pagan gods. Gods of Nature and Earth. The structure seemed boxier from the foreign than he remembered. The vertical pillars and triangular pronaus all but obscured the circular dome shag it. S savings bank, the bold and immodest inscription over the entrance assured him they were in the recompense spot. M AGRIPPA L F romaine TERTIUM FECIT. Langdon translated it, as always, with amusement. Marcus Agrippa, Consul for the third time, built this.So much for humility, he thought, turning his eyes to the surrounding area. A scattering of tourists with video cameras wandered the area. Others sat enjoying Romes best iced coffee at La Tazza di Oros outdoor cafe. Outside the entrance to the Pantheon, four armed Roman policemen stood at attention just as Olivetti had predicted.Looks fair quiet, Vittoria said.Langdon nodded, but he felt troubled. Now that he was standing here in person, the w lying in wait scenario seemed surreal. Despite Vittorias apparent assent that he was near, Langdon realized he had put everyone on the line here. The Illuminati poem lingered. From Santis terrene tomb with demons pickle. YES, he told himself. This was the spot. Santis tomb. He had been here many times beneath the P antheons heart and stood before the grave of the great Raphael.What time is it? Vittoria asked.Langdon checked his watch. Seven-fifty. Ten minutes till show time.Hope these guys are good, Vittoria said, eyeing the bemused tourists entering the Pantheon. If anything happens inside that dome, well all be in the interbreedingfire.Langdon exhaled heavily as they travel toward the entrance. The gun felt heavy in his pocket. He wondered what would happen if the policemen frisked him and show the weapon, but the officers did not give them a second look. Apparently the disguise was convincing.Langdon whispered to Vittoria. eer fire anything other than a tranquilizer gun?Dont you trust me?Trust you? I barely know you.Vittoria frowned. And here I thought we were newlyweds.61The air inside the Pantheon was cool and damp, heavy with history. The sprawling cap hovered overhead as though weightless the 141-foot unsupported span larger even than the cupola at St. Peters. As always, Langdon f elt a chill as he entered the cavernous room. It was a remarkable fusion of engineer and art. Above them the famous circular hole in the roof glowed with a destine shaft of evening temperateness. The oculus, Langdon thought. The demons hole.They had arrived.Langdons eyes traced the arch of the ceiling sloping outward to the amphistylar walls and finally down to the polished marble floor beneath their feet. The faint peal of footfalls and tourist murmurs reverberated around the dome. Langdon scanned the dozen or so tourists wandering aimlessly in the shadows. Are you here?Looks pretty quiet, Vittoria said, let off holding his hand.Langdon nodded.Wheres Raphaels tomb?Langdon thought for a moment, trying to get his bearings. He surveyed the electric circuit of the room. Tombs. Altars. Pillars. Niches. He motioned to a particularly rhetorical funerary across the dome and to the left. I think thats Raphaels over there.Vittoria scanned the rest of the room. I dont see anyone who looks like an assassin approximately to kill a cardinal. Shall we look around?Langdon nodded. Theres only one spot in here where anyone could be hiding. We better check the rientranze.The recesses?Yes. Langdon pointed. The recesses in the wall.Around the perimeter, interspersed with the tombs, a series of semicircular niches were hewn in the wall. The niches, although not enormous, were big enough to hide someone in the shadows. Sadly, Langdon knew they once contained statues of the Olympian gods, but the pagan sculptures had been destroyed when the Vatican converted the Pantheon to a delivererian church service building. He felt a pang of frustration to know he was standing at the first communion table of science, and the fool was gone. He wondered which statue it had been, and where it had pointed. Langdon could imagine no greater thrill than finding an Illuminati marker a statue that surreptitiously pointed the way down the Path of Illumination. Again he wondered who the a nonymous Illuminati sculptor had been.Ill take the left arc, Vittoria said, indicating the left half of the circumference. You go right. See you in a hundred and eighty degrees.Langdon smiled grimly.As Vittoria travel off, Langdon felt the eerie iniquity of the situation seeping back into his mind. As he turned and made his way to the right, the killers voice seemed to whisper in the dead space around him. Eight oclock. consummate(a) sacrifices on the altars of science. A mathematical forward motion of death. Eight, nine, ten, eleven and at midnight. Langdon checked his watch 752. Eight minutes.As Langdon moved toward the first recess, he passed the tomb of one of Italys Catholic kings. The sarcophagus, like many in Rome, was askew with the wall, positioned awkwardly. A group of prattleors seemed muzzy by this. Langdon did not stop to explain. ceremonious Christian tombs were often misaligned with the architecture so they could lie facing east. It was an ancient superstitious notion that Langdons Symbology 212 class had discussed just last month.Thats all in all incongruous a female scholar in the front had blurted when Langdon explained the reason for east-facing tombs. why would Christians want their tombs to face the rising solariseniness? Were talking about Christianity not sunlight worshipLangdon smiled, pacing before the blackboard, chew an apple. Mr. Hitzrot he shouted.A young man dozing in back sat up with a start. What Me?Langdon pointed to a Renaissance art poster on the wall. Who is that man kneeling before God?Um some enshrine?Brilliant. And how do you know hes a beau ideal?Hes got a tintinnabulation?Excellent, and does that golden halo remind you of anything?Hitzrot broke into a smile. yea Those Egyptian things we studied last term. Those um sun disksThank you, Hitzrot. Go back to sleep. Langdon turned back to the class. Halos, like much of Christian symbology, were borrowed from the ancient Egyptian religion of sun worship. Christi anity is filled with examples of sun worship.Excuse me? the misfire in front said. I go to church all the time, and I dont see much sun worshiping going onReally? What do you celebrate on December twenty-fifth?Christmas. The birth of Jesus Christ.And yet according to the Bible, Christ was born in March, so what are we doing celebrating in late December?Silence.Langdon smiled. December twenty-fifth, my friends, is the ancient pagan holiday of sol invictus unvanquished Sun coinciding with the winter solstice. Its that howling(prenominal) time of year when the sun returns, and the old age start getting longer.Langdon took another piece of apple.Conquering religions, he continued, often suck in existing holidays to make conversion less shocking. Its called transmutation. It helps people acclimatize to the new faith. Worshipers nourish the same holy dates, pray in the same sacred locations, use a similar symbology and they simply substitute a different god.Now the girl in front l ooked furious. Youre implying Christianity is just some benignant of repackaged sun worshipNot at all. Christianity did not borrow only from sun worship. The ritual of Christian canonization is interpreted from the ancient god-making rite of Euhemerus. The practice of god-eating that is, devoted Communion was borrowed from the Aztecs. Even the concept of Christ dying for our sins is arguably not totally Christian the self-sacrifice of a young man to absolve the sins of his people appears in the earliest tradition of the Quetzalcoatl.The girl glared. So, is anything in Christianity original?Very little in any organized faith is really original. Religions are not born from scratch. They grow from one another. Modern religion is a collage an assimilated historical record of mans quest to understand the divine.Um hold on, Hitzrot ventured, sounding conjure now. I know something Christian thats original. How about our image of God? Christian art never portrays God as the shift sun god, or as an Aztec, or as anything weird. It always shows God as an old man with a white byssus. So our image of God is original, right?Langdon smiled. When the early Christian converts abandoned their spring deities pagan gods, Roman gods, Greek, sun, Mithraic, whatever they asked the church what their new Christian God looked like. Wisely, the church chose the most feared, powerful and familiar face in all of recorded history.Hitzrot looked skeptical. An old man with a white, flowing beard?Langdon pointed to a hierarchy of ancient gods on the wall. At the top sat an old man with a white, flowing beard. Does genus Zeus look familiar?The class finish right on cue.Good evening, a mans voice said.Langdon jumped. He was back in the Pantheon. He turned to face an venerable man in a blue cape with a red cross on the chest. The man gave him a gray-toothed smile.Youre English, right? The mans accent was thick Tuscan.Langdon blinked, confused. Actually, no. Im American.The man looke d embarrassed. Oh heavens, forgive me. You were so nicely dressed, I just figured my apologies.Can I help you? Langdon asked, his heart beating wildly.Actually I thought perhaps I could help you. I am the cicerone here. The man pointed proudly to his city-issued badge. It is my job to make your visit to Rome more provoke.More interesting? Langdon was certain this particular visit to Rome was plenty interesting.You look like a man of distinction, the guide fawned, no uncertainty more interested in market-gardening than most. Perhaps I can give you some history on this interest building.Langdon smiled politely. Kind of you, but Im actually an art historian myself, and Superb The mans eyes lit up like hed hit the jackpot. Then you will no doubt find this delightfulI think Id favour to The Pantheon, the man declared, launching into his memorized spiel, was built by Marcus Agrippa in 27 B.C.Yes, Langdon interjected, and rebuilt by Hadrian in 119 A.D.It was the worlds largest free- standing dome until 1960 when it was eclipsed by the Superdome in New OrleansLangdon groaned. The man was unstoppable.And a fifth-century theologist once called the Pantheon the House of the Devil, warning that the hole in the roof was an entrance for demonsLangdon blocked him out. His eyes climbed skyward to the oculus, and the memory of Vittorias suggested biz flashed a bone-numbing image in his mind a branded cardinal dropping through the hole and hitting the marble floor. Now that would be a media event. Langdon found himself scanning the Pantheon for reporters. None. He inhaled deeply. It was an absurd idea. The logistics of drag off a stunt like that would be ridiculous.As Langdon moved off to continue his inspection, the babbling docent followed like a love-starved puppy. Remind me, Langdon thought to himself, theres nothing worse than a gung ho art historian. crossways the room, Vittoria was immersed in her own search. Standing all alone for the first time since she had comprehend the news of her father, she felt the stark reality of the last eight hours closing in around her. Her father had been murdered cruelly and abruptly. Almost equally painful was that her fathers design had been corrupted now a animal of terrorists. Vittoria was plagued with guilt to think that it was her invention that had enabled the antimatter to be transported her canister that was now counting down inside the Vatican. In an effort to exercise her fathers quest for the simplicity of truth she had break a conspirator of chaos.Oddly, the only thing that felt right in her sustenance at the moment was the presence of a total stranger. Robert Langdon. She found an inexplicable guard in his eyes like the consent of the oceans she had left behind early that morning. She was smiling he was there. Not only had he been a source of strength and take to for her, Langdon had used his quick mind to render this one chance to catch her fathers killer.Vittoria disfranchised deeply as she continued her search, moving around the perimeter. She was overwhelmed by the unexpected images of personal revenge that had dominated her thoughts all day. Even as a sworn rooter of all purport she wanted this executioner dead. No amount of good karma could make her turn the other cheek today. affright and electrified, she sensed something coursing through her Italian blood that she had never felt before the whispers of Sicilian ancestors defending family honor with beastly justice. Vendetta, Vittoria thought, and for the first time in her life understood.Visions of reprisal spurred her on. She approached the tomb of Raphael Santi. Even from a outperform she could tell this guy was special. His casket, unlike the others, was protected by a Plexiglas shelter and recessed into the wall. Through the barrier she could see the front of the sarcophagus.Raphael Santi1483-1520Vittoria studied the grave and then read the one-sentence descriptive plaque beside Raphaels tomb.Then she read it again.Then she read it again.A moment later, she was dashing in revulsion across the floor. Robert Robert