Angels Demons Chapter 58-61

58Seven-forty-six and thirty mark. Even speaking into his walkie-talkie, Olivettis voice never limitmed to rise above a whisper.Langdon snarl himself sudor zero(prenominal) in his Harris tweed in the assseat of the Alpha Romeo, which was idling in Piazza de la Concorde, three blocks from the Pantheon. Vittoria sat beside him, presenting engrossed by Olivetti, who was transmittance his final orders.Deployment will be an eight-point hem, the commander said. Full perimeter with a bias on the entry. Target may know you visually, so you will be pas-visible. Nonmortal force only. Well need someone to spot the roof. Target is primary. Asset secondary.Jesus, Langdon judgement, chilled by the efficiency with which Olivetti had just told his men the cardinal was expendable. Asset secondary.I repeat. Nonmortal procurement. We need the patsy alive. Go. Olivetti snapped off his walkie-talkie.Vittoria viewed stunned, almost angry. Commander, isnt anyone going inside?Olivetti turned. Insi de?Inside the Pantheon W present this is supposed to happen?Attento, Olivetti said, his eyeball fossilizing. If my ranks work been infiltrated, my men may be known by sight. Your colleague has just finished warning me that this will be our sole chance to catch the target. I have no intention of scaring anyone off by marching my men inside.But what if the dash offer is already inside?Olivetti check over his watch. 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 somehow. What if your men see the target come come come forth but dont know who he is? Someone needs to make sure the inside is clean.Too risky at this point.Not if the person going in was unrecognizable.Disguising operatives is time consuming and I meant me, Vittoria said.Langdon turned and stared at her.Olivetti shook his head. Absolutely non.He killed my father.Exactly, so he may know who you are.You h eard him on the phone. He had no idea Leonardo Vetra even had a daughter. He sure as sinning doesnt know what I look like. I could walk in like a tourist. If I see anything suspicious, I could walk into the square and signal your men to move in.Im sorry, I cannot allow that.Comandante? Olivettis receiver crackled. Weve got a patch from the north point. The fountain is blocking our extraction of sight. We cant see the entrance unless we move into plain view on the piazza. Whats your call? Do you want us finesse or vulnerable?Vittoria apparently had endured enough. Thats it. Im going. She opened her door and got out.Olivetti dropped his walkie-talkie and jumped out of the car, circling in front of Vittoria.Langdon got out too. What the hell is she doingOlivetti blocked Vittorias way. Ms. Vetra, your instincts are good, but I cannot let a civilian interfere.Interfere? Youre flying blind. Let me help.I would love to have a recon point inside, butBut what? Vittoria demanded. But Im a woman?Olivetti said nothing.That had better 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 macho bullshit Let us do our job.Let me help.Too dangerous. We would have no lines of communication with you. I cant let you carry a walkie-talkie, it would give you away.Vittoria reached in her shirt pocket and produced her cell phone. Plenty of tourists carry 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 shut and glared at Olivetti. Who the hell is going to know? It is a no-risk situation. Let me be your eyes She motioned to the cell phone on Olivettis belt. Whats your number?Olivetti did not reply.The driver had been looking on and seemed to have some minds 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. Program this number. He began dictating digits.Vittoria programmed her phone.Now 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 some, exit the building, then call and tell me what you see.Vittoria snapped the phone shut. give thanks you, sir.Langdon matte 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 Guard driver was talking to Olivetti again.Its dangerous, Langdon said to Vittoria.Hes right, Olivetti said. Even my best men dont work alone. My lieutenant has just pointed out that the masquerade will be more than convincing with both of you anyway.Both of us? Langdon hesitated. Actually, what I meant Both of you entering together, Olivetti said, will look like a couple on holiday. You can as well as back each other up. Im mor e comfortable with that.Vittoria shrugged. Fine, but well need to go fast.Langdon groaned. Nice move, cowboy.Olivetti pointed down the street. First street you hit will be Via degli Orfani. Go left(a). 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 heart skipped. We dont need a gunVittoria held her hand out. I can tag a breaching porpoise from forty meters off the bow of a rocking ship.Good. Olivetti pass the gun to her. Youll have to c at a timeal it.Vittoria glanced down at her shorts. Then she looked at Langdon.Oh no you dont Langdon thought, but Vittoria was too fast. She opened his jacket, and inserted the weapon into one of his breast pockets. It felt like a rock dropping into his coat, his only consolation being that Diagramma was in the other pocket.We look harmless, Vittoria said. Were leaving. She took Langdons arm and headed down the street.The driver called out, Arm in arm is good. Remember, youre tourists. Newlyweds even. Perhaps if you held men?As they turned the corner Langdon could have give tongue to he saw on Vittorias face the hint of a smile.59The Swiss Guard staging room is located adjacent to the Corpo di Vigilanza barracks and is apply primarily for planning the security surrounding papal appearances and public Vatican events. Today, however, it was being used for something else.The man addressing the assembled task force was the second-in-command of the Swiss Guard, Captain Elias Rocher. Rocher was a barrel-chested man with soft, puttylike features. He wore the traditional blue captains uniform with his own personal 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 clarity of a musical instrument. contempt the precision of his inflection, Rochers eyes were cloudy like those of some nocturnal mammal. His men called him orso grizzly bear. They sometimes joked that Rocher was the bear who walked in the vipers shadow. Commander Olivetti was the viper. Rocher was just as noxious as the viper, but at least you could see him coming.Rochers men stood at sharp attention, nobody moving a muscle, although the information they had just received had increase their aggregate blood pressure by a few thousand points.Rookie Lieutenant Chartrand stood in 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, Chartrand was the youngest guard on the force. He had been in Vatican City only three months. comparable every man there, Chartrand was Swiss Army trained and had endured two years of additional ausbilding in Bern forward qualifying for the grueling Vatican prva held in a secret barracks outside of Rome. Nothing in his rearing, however, had prepared him for a crisis like this .At first Chartrand thought the briefing was some sort of bizarre training exercise. Futuristic weapons? Ancient cults? Kidnapped cardinals? Then Rocher had shown them the live video feed of the weapon in question. 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 wear infrared goggles for vision. Reconnaissance will be done with traditional bug sweepers, recalibrated for sub-three-ohm flux fields. Any questions?None.Chartrands foreland was on overload. What if we dont find it in time? he asked, immediately wishing he had not.The grizzly bear gazed out at him from beneath his red beret. Then he dismissed the group with a somber salute. Godspeed, men.60Two blocks from the Pantheon, Langdon and Vittoria approached on foot past a line of taxis, their drivers sleeping in the front seats. Nap time was eternal in the Eternal City the ubiquitous public dozing a perfected backstage of the afternoon siestas born of ancient Spain.Langdon fought to focus his thoughts, but the situation was too bizarre to grasp rationally. Six hours ago he had been sound asleep in Cambridge. Now he was in Europe, caught up in a surreal battle of ancient 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. There was a strength in her grasp that of an nonparasitic and determined woman. Her fingers wrapped around his with the comfort of innate acceptance. No hesitation. Langdon felt a growing 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 loosened up.Breathe through your eyes, she said.Im sorry?It relaxes the muscles. Its called pranayama. Piranha?Not the fish. Pranayama. Never mind.As they rounded the corner into Piazza della Rotunda, the Pantheon go before 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 outside than he remembered. The vertical pillars and triangular pronaus all but obscured the card dome behind it. Still, the bold and immodest inscription over the entrance assured him they were in the right spot. M AGRIPPA L F COS 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 pretty quiet, Vittoria said.Langdon nodded, but he felt troubled. Now that he was standing here in person, the w good deal scenario seemed surreal. Despite Vittorias apparent faith that he was right, Langdon realized he had put everyone on the line here. The Illuminati poem lingered. From Santis earthly grave accent with demons hole. YES, he told himself. This was the spot. Santis tomb. He had been here many times beneath the Pantheons oculus 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 scattered tourists entering the Pantheon. If anything happens inside that dome, well all be in the crossfire.Langdon exhaled heavily as they move toward the entrance. The gun felt heavy in his pocket. He wondered what would happen if the policemen frisked him and found the weapon, but the officers did not give them a second look. Apparently the disguise was convincing.Langdon speak to Vittoria. Ever 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 ceiling hovered overhead as though weightless the 141-foot unsupported span larger even than the cupola at St. Peters. As always, Langdon felt a chill as he entered the cavernous room. It was a remarkable fusion of engineering and art. Above them the famous circular hole in the roof glowed with a narrow shaft of evening sunshine. The oculus, Langdon thought. The demons hole.They had arrived.Langdons eyes traced the arch of the ceiling sloping outward to the columned walls and finally down to the appareled marble floor beneath their feet. The faint echo 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, still holding his hand.Langdon nodded.Wheres Raphaels tomb?Langdon thought for a split second, trying to get his bearings. He surveyed the circumference of the room. Tombs. Altars. Pillars. Niches. He motioned to a particularly ornate 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 about 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 christian church. He felt a pang of frustration to know he was standing at the first altar of science, and the marker 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 anonymous 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 moved off, Langdon felt the eerie horror 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. Virgin sacrifices on the altars of science. A mathematical progression 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 visitors seemed confused by this. Langdon did not stop to explain. Formal Christian tombs were often misaligned with the architecture so they could lie facing east. It was an ancient superstition that Langdons Symbology 212 class had discussed just last month.Thats totally incongruous a female student in the front had blurted when Langdon explained the reasonableness for east-facing tombs. Why would Christians want their tombs to face the rising sun? Were talking about Christianity not sun worshipLangdon smiled, pacing before the blackboard, chewing 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 saint?Brilliant. And how do you know hes a saint?Hes got a halo?Excellent, and does that golden halo remind you of anything?Hitzrot broke into a smile. yea Those Egyptian things we st udied 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 holiness of sun worship. Christianity is filled with examples of sun worship.Excuse me? the miss 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 Unconquered Sun coinciding with the winter solstice. Its that grand time of year when the sun returns, and the days start getting longer.Langdon took another bite of apple.Conquering religions, he continued, often adopt existing holidays to make renewing less shocking. Its called transmutation. It helps people acc limatize to the new faith. Worshipers keep the same holy dates, pray in the same sacred locations, use a similar symbology and they patently substitute a different god.Now the girl in front looked furious. Youre implying Christianity is just some kind of repackaged sun worshipNot at all. Christianity did not borrow only from sun worship. The ritual of Christian canonization is taken from the ancient god-making rite of Euhemerus. The practice of god-eating that is, Holy Communion was borrowed from the Aztecs. Even the concept of Christ dying for our sins is arguably not exclusively 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 truly original. Religions are not born from scratch. They grow from one another. neo religion is a collage an assimilated historical record of mans quest to understand the divin e.Um hold on, Hitzrot ventured, sounding awake now. I know something Christian thats original. How about our simulacrum of God? Christian art never portrays God as the hawk sun god, or as an Aztec, or as anything weird. It always shows God as an old man with a white beard. So our image of God is original, right?Langdon smiled. When the early Christian converts abandoned their former deities pagan gods, Roman gods, Greek, sun, Mithraic, whatsoever 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 Zeus look familiar?The class ended right on cue.Good evening, a mans voice said.Langdon jumped. He was back in the Pantheon. He turned to face an ancient 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 looked 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 interesting.More interesting? Langdon was legitimate this particular visit to Rome was plenty interesting.You look like a man of distinction, the guide fawned, no doubt more interested in horticulture than most. Perhaps I can give you some history on this fascinating 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 prefer to The Pantheon, the man declared, intromission 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 theologian 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 plot flashed a bone-numbing image in his mind a branded cardinal falling 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 wild idea. The logistics of pulling 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.Across the room, Vittoria was immersed in her own search. Standing all alone for the first time since she had heard the newsworthiness 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 mental home had been corrupted now a tool 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 safari to serve her fathers quest for the simplicity of truth she had become a conspirator of chaos.Oddly, the only thing that felt right in her life at the moment was the presence of a total stranger. Robert Langdon. She found an inexplicable refuge in his eyes like the harmony of the oceans she had left behind early that morning. She was glad he was there. Not only had he been a source of strength and hope for her, Langdon had used his quick mind to render this one chance to catch her fathers killer.Vittoria hard 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 lover of all life she wanted this executioner dead. No amount of good karma could make her turn the other cheek today. Alarmed and electrified, she sensed something pass over through her Italian blood that she had never felt before the whispers of Sicilian ancestors defending family honor with brutal 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 distance she could tell this guy was special. His casket, unlike the others, was protected by a Plexiglas shield and recessed into the wall. Through the barrier she could see the front of the s arcophagus.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 horror across the floor. Robert Robert