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establishing points beyond which she dared not pass.

Now he waited, ears straining in the silence. She has only one direction she can move—directly toward me.

Even so, Mal’akh heard nothing. Either Katherine was paralyzed with fear, or she had decided to stand still

and wait for help to enter Pod 5. Either way she loses. Nobody would be entering Pod 5 anytime soon;

Mal’akh had disabled the outer keypad with a very crude, yet very effective, technique. After using Trish’s

key card, he had rammed a single dime deep into the key-card slot to prevent any other key-card use without

first dismantling the entire mechanism.

You and I are alone, Katherine . . . for as long as this takes.

Mal’akh inched silently forward, listening for any movement. Katherine Solomon would die tonight in the

darkness of her brother’s museum. A poetic end. Mal’akh looked forward to sharing the news of Katherine’s

death with her brother. The old man’s anguish would be long-awaited revenge.

Suddenly in the darkness, to Mal’akh’s great surprise, he saw a tiny glow in the distance and realized

Katherine had just made a deadly error in judgment. She’s phoning for help?! The electronic display that had

just flickered to life was hovering waist high, about twenty yards ahead, like a shining beacon on a vast

ocean of black. Mal’akh had been prepared to wait Katherine out, but now he wouldn’t have to.

Mal’akh sprang into motion, racing toward the hovering light, knowing he had to reach her before she could

complete her call for help. He was there in a matter of seconds, and he lunged, arms outstretched on either

side of her glowing cell phone, preparing to engulf her.

Mal’akh’s fingers jammed into a solid wall, bending backward and almost breaking. His head collided next,

crashing into a steel beam. He cried out in pain as he crumpled beside the wall. Cursing, he clambered back

to his feet, pulling himself up by the waist-high, horizontal strut on which Katherine Solomon had cleverly

placed her open cell phone.

Katherine was running again, this time with no concern for the noise her hand was making as it bounced

rhythmically off the evenly spaced metal studs of Pod 5. Run! If she followed the wall all the way around the

pod, she knew that sooner or later she would feel the exit door.

Where the hell is the guard?

The even spacing of the studs continued as she ran with her left hand on the sidewall and her right out in

front of her for protection. When will I reach the corner? The sidewall seemed to go on and on, but suddenly

the rhythm of the studs was broken. Her left hand hit empty space for several long strides, and then the studs

began again. Katherine slammed on the brakes and backed up, feeling her way across the smooth metal

panel. Why are there no studs here?

She could hear her attacker lumbering loudly after her now, groping his way down the wall in her direction.

Even so, it was a different sound that scared Katherine even more—the distant rhythmic banging of a

security guard pounding his flashlight against the Pod 5 door.

The guard can’t get in?

While the thought was terrifying, the location of his banging—diagonally to her right—instantly oriented

Katherine. She could now picture where in Pod 5 she was located. The visual flash brought with it an

unexpected realization. She now knew what this flat panel on the wall was.

Every pod was equipped with a specimen bay—a giant movable wall that could be retracted for transporting

oversize specimens in and out of the pods. Like those of an airplane hangar, this door was mammoth, and

Katherine in her wildest dreams had never imagined needing to open it. At the moment, though, it seemed

like her only hope.

Is it even operable?

Katherine fumbled blindly in the blackness, searching the bay door until she found the large metal handle.

Grasping it, she threw her weight backward, trying to slide open the door. Nothing. She tried again. It didn’t

budge.

She could hear her attacker closing faster now, homing in on the sounds of her efforts. The bay door is

locked! Wild with panic, she slid her hands all over the door, feeling the surface for any latch or lever. She

suddenly hit what felt like a vertical pole. She followed it down to the floor, crouching, and could feel it was

inserted into a hole in the cement. A security rod! She stood up, grabbed the pole, and, lifting with her legs,

slid the rod up and out of the hole.

He’s almost here!

Katherine groped now for the handle, found it again, and heaved back on it with all her might. The massive

panel seemed barely to move, and yet a sliver of moonlight now sliced into Pod 5. Katherine pulled again.

The shaft of light from outside the building grew wider. A little more! She pulled one last time, sensing her

attacker was now only a few feet away.

Leaping toward the light, Katherine wriggled her slender body sideways into the opening. A hand

materialized in the darkness, clawing at her, trying to pull her back inside. She heaved herself through the

opening, pursued by a massive bare arm that was covered with tattooed scales. The terrifying arm writhed

like an angry snake trying to seize her.

Katherine spun and fled down the long, pale outer wall of Pod 5. The bed of loose stones that surrounded the

entire perimeter of the SMSC cut into her stockinged feet as she ran, but she pressed on, heading for the main

entrance. The night was dark, but with her eyes fully dilated from the utter blackness of Pod 5, she could see

perfectly—almost as if it were daylight. Behind her, the heavy bay door ground open, and she heard heavy

footsteps accelerating in pursuit down the side of the building. The footsteps seemed impossibly fast.

I’ll never outrun him to the main entrance. She knew her Volvo was closer, but even that would be too far.

I’m not going to make it.

Then Katherine realized she had one final card to play.

As she neared the corner of Pod 5, she could hear his footsteps quickly overtaking her in the darkness. Now

or never. Instead of rounding the corner, Katherine suddenly cut hard to her left, away from the building, out

onto the grass. As she did so, she closed her eyes tightly, placed both hands over her face, and began running

totally blind across the lawn.

The motion-activated security lighting that blazed to life around Pod 5 transformed night into day instantly.

Katherine heard a scream of pain behind her as the brilliant floodlights seared into her assailant’s hyper

dilated pupils with over twenty-five-million candlepower of light. She could hear him stumbling on the loose

stones.

Katherine kept her eyes tightly closed, trusting herself on the open lawn. When she sensed she was far

enough away from the building and the lights, she opened her eyes, corrected her course, and ran like hell

through the dark.

Her Volvo’s keys were exactly where she always left them, in the center console. Breathless, she seized the

keys in her trembling hands and found the ignition. The engine roared to life, and her headlights flipped on,

illuminating a terrifying sight.

A hideous form raced toward her.

Katherine froze for an instant.

The creature caught in her headlights was a bald and bare-chested animal, its skin covered with tattooed

scales, symbols, and text. He bellowed as he ran into the glare, raising his hands before his eyes like a cave-

dwelling beast seeing sunlight for the first time. She reached for the gearshift but suddenly he was there,

hurling his elbow through her side window, sending a shower of safety glass into her lap.

A massive scale-covered arm burst through her window, groping half blind, finding her neck. She threw the

car in reverse, but her attacker had latched on to her throat, squeezing with unimaginable force. She turned

her head in an attempt to escape his grasp, and suddenly she was staring at his face. Three dark stripes, like

fingernail scratches, had torn through his face makeup to reveal the tattoos beneath. His eyes were wild and

ruthless.

“I should have killed you ten years ago,” he growled. “The night I killed your mother.”

As his words registered, Katherine was seized by a horrifying memory: that feral look in his eyes—she had

seen it before. It’s him. She would have screamed had it not been for the viselike grip around her neck.

She smashed her foot onto the accelerator, and the car lurched backward, almost snapping her neck as he was

dragged beside her car. The Volvo careened up an inclined median, and Katherine could feel her neck about

to give way beneath his weight. Suddenly tree branches were scraping the side of her car, slapping through

the side windows, and the weight was gone.

The car burst through the evergreens and out into the upper parking lot, where Katherine slammed on the

brakes. Below her, the half-naked man clambered to his feet, staring into her headlights. With a terrifying

calm, he raised a menacing scale-covered arm and pointed directly at her.

Katherine’s blood coursed with raw fear and hatred as she spun the wheel and hit the gas. Seconds later, she

was fishtailing out onto Silver Hill Road.

CHAPTER 48

In the heat of the moment, Capitol police officer Nu?ez had seen no option but to help the Capitol Architect

and Robert Langdon escape. Now, however, back in the basement police headquarters, Nu?ez could see the

storm clouds gathering fast.

Chief Trent Anderson was holding an ice pack to his head while another officer was tending to Sato’s

bruises. Both of them were standing with the video surveillance team, reviewing digital playback files in an

attempt to locate Langdon and Bellamy.

“Check the playback on every hallway and exit,” Sato demanded. “I want to know where they went!”

Nu?ez felt ill as he looked on. He knew it would be only a matter of minutes before they found the right

video clip and learned the truth. I helped them escape. Making matters worse was the arrival of a four-man

CIA field team that was now staging nearby, prepping to go after Langdon and Bellamy. These guys looked

nothing like the Capitol Police. These guys were dead-serious soldiers . . . black camouflage, night vision,

futuristic-looking handguns.

Nu?ez felt like he would throw up. Making up his mind, he motioned discreetly to Chief Anderson. “A word,

Chief?”

“What is it?” Anderson followed Nu?ez into the hall.

“Chief, I made a bad mistake,” Nu?ez said, breaking a sweat. “I’m sorry, and I’m resigning.” You’ll fire me

in a few minutes anyway.

“I beg your pardon?”

Nu?ez swallowed hard. “Earlier, I saw Langdon and Architect Bellamy in the visitor center on their way out

of the building.”

“What?!” Anderson bellowed. “Why didn’t you say something?!”

“The Architect told me not to say a word.”

“You work for me, goddamm it!” Anderson’s voice echoed down the corridor. “Bellamy smashed my head

into a wall, for Christ’s sake!”

Nu?ez handed Anderson the key that the Architect had given him.

“What is this?” Anderson demanded.

“A key to the new tunnel under Independence Avenue. Architect Bellamy had it. That’s how they escaped.”

Anderson stared down at the key, speechless.

Sato poked her head out into the hallway, eyes probing. “What’s going on out here?”

Nu?ez felt himself go pale. Anderson was still holding the key, and Sato clearly had seen it. As the hideous

little woman drew near, Nu?ez improvised as best as he could, hoping to protect his chief. “I found a key on

the floor in the subbasement. I was just asking Chief Anderson if he knew what it might go to.”

Sato arrived, eyeing the key. “And does the chief know?”

Nu?ez glanced up at Anderson, who was clearly weighing all his options before speaking. Finally, the chief

shook his head. “Not offhand. I’d have to check the—”

“Don’t bother,” Sato said. “This key unlocks a tunnel off the visitor center.”

“Really?” Anderson said. “How do you know that?”

“We just found the surveillance clip. Officer Nu?ez here helped Langdon and Bellamy escape and then

relocked that tunnel door behind them. Bellamy gave Nu?ez that key.”

Anderson turned to Nu?ez with a flare of anger. “Is this true?!”

Nu?ez nodded vigorously, doing his best to play along. “I’m sorry, sir. The Architect told me not to tell a

soul!”

“I don’t give a damn what the Architect told you!” Anderson yelled. “I expect—”

“Shut up, Trent,” Sato snapped. “You’re both lousy liars. Save it for your CIA inquisition.” She snatched the

Architect’s tunnel key from Anderson. “You’re done here.”

 CHAPTER 49

Robert Langdon hung up his cell phone, feeling increasingly worried. Katherine’s not answering her cell?

Katherine had promised to call him as soon as she was safely out of the lab and on her way to meet him here,

but she had never done so.

Bellamy sat beside Langdon at the reading-room desk. He, too, had just made a call, his to an individual he

claimed could offer them sanctuary—a safe place to hide. Unfortunately, this person was not answering

either, and so Bellamy had left an urgent message, telling him to call Langdon’s cell phone right away.

“I’ll keep trying,” he said to Langdon, “but for the moment, we’re on our own. And we need to discuss a plan

for this pyramid.”

The pyramid. For Langdon, the spectacular backdrop of the reading room had all but disappeared, his world

constricting now to include only what was directly in front of him—a stone pyramid, a sealed package

containing a capstone, and an elegant African American man who had materialized out of the darkness and

rescued him from the certainty of a CIA interrogation.

Langdon had expected a modicum of sanity from the Architect of the Capitol, but now it seemed Warren

Bellamy was no more rational than the madman claiming Peter was in purgatory. Bellamy was insisting this

stone pyramid was, in fact, the Masonic Pyramid of legend. An ancient map? That guides us to powerful

wisdom?

“Mr. Bellamy,” Langdon said politely, “this idea that there exists some kind of ancient knowledge that can

imbue men with great power . . . I simply can’t take it seriously.”

Bellamy’s eyes looked both disappointed and earnest, making Langdon’s skepticism all the more awkward.

“Yes, Professor, I had imagined you might feel this way, but I suppose I should not be surprised. You are an