The Lost Symbol

“Call me when you get there. Tell me what you find. And don’t let these two out of your sight.”

Agent Hartmann gave a quick nod, pulled out the Escalade keys, and headed for the door.

Katherine was right behind him.

Sato turned to Langdon. “I’ll see you shortly, Professor. I know you think I’m the enemy, but I can assure you that’s not the case. Get to Peter at once. This isn’t over yet.”

Off to one side of Langdon, Dean Galloway was sitting quietly at the coffee table. His hands had found the stone pyramid, which was still sitting in Langdon’s open leather bag on the table in front of him. The old man was running his hands over the stone’s warm surface.

Langdon said, “Father, are you coming to see Peter?”

“I’d just slow you down.” Galloway removed his hands from the bag and zipped it up around the pyramid. “I’ll stay right here and pray for Peter’s recovery. We can all speak later. But when you show Peter the pyramid, would you please tell him something for me?”

“Of course.” Langdon hoisted the bag onto his shoulder.

“Tell him this.” Galloway cleared his throat. “The Masonic Pyramid has always kept her secret. sincerely.”

“I don’t understand.”

The old man winked. “Just tell Peter that. He will understand.”

With that, Dean Galloway bowed his head and began praying.

Perplexed, Langdon left him there and hurried outside. Katherine was already in the front seat of the SUV giving the agent directions. Langdon climbed in back and had barely closed the door before the giant vehicle was rocketing across the lawn, racing northward to Kalorama Heights.

CHAPTER 93

Franklin Square is located in the northwest quadrant of downtown Washington, bordered by K and Thirteenth streets. It is home to many historic buildings, most notably the Franklin School, from which Alexander Graham Bell sent the world’s first wireless message in 1880.

High above the square, a fast-moving UH-60 helicopter approached from the west, having completed its journey from the National Cathedral in a matter of minutes. Plenty of time, Sato thought, peering down at the square below. She knew it was critical that her men got into position undetected before their target arrived. He said he wouldn’t be here for at least twenty minutes.

On Sato’s command, the pilot performed a “touch-hover” on the roof of the tallest building around — the renowned One Franklin Square — a towering and prestigious office building with two gold spires on top. The maneuver was illegal, of course, but the chopper was there only a few seconds, and its skids barely touched the gravel rooftop. Once everyone had jumped out, the pilot immediately lifted off, banking to the east, where he would climb to “silent altitude” and provide invisible support from above.

Sato waited as her field team collected their things and prepared Bellamy for his task. The Architect was still looking dazed from having seen the file on Sato’s secure laptop. As I said. an issue of national security. Bellamy had quickly understood Sato’s meaning and was now fully cooperative.

“All set, ma’am,” Agent Simkins said.

On Sato’s command, the agents ushered Bellamy across the rooftop and disappeared down a stairwell, heading for ground level to take up their positions.

Sato walked to the edge of the building and gazed down. The rectangular wooded park below filled the entire block. Plenty of cover. Sato’s team fully understood the importance of making an undetected intercept. If their target sensed a presence here and decided just to slip away. the director didn’t even want to think about it.

The wind up here was gusty and cold. Sato wrapped her arms around herself, and planted her feet firmly to avoid getting blown over the edge. From this high vantage point, Franklin Square looked smaller than she recalled, with fewer buildings. She wondered which building was Eight Franklin Square. This was information she had requested from her analyst Nola, from whom she expected word at any moment.

Bellamy and the agents now appeared, looking like ants fanning out into the darkness of the wooded area. Simkins positioned Bellamy in a clearing near the center of the deserted park. Then Simkins and his team melted into the natural cover, disappearing from view. Within seconds, Bellamy was alone, pacing and shivering in the light of a streetlamp near the center of the park.

Sato felt no pity.

She lit a cigarette and took a long drag, savoring the warmth as it permeated her lungs. Satisfied that everything below was in order, she stepped back from the edge to await her two phone calls — one from her analyst Nola and one from Agent Hartmann, whom she had sent to Kalorama Heights.

CHAPTER 94