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Sato.

Sato walked over and peered into the bag. The wet pyramid and capstone glistened in the beam of the

flashlight. Sato crouched down, looking very closely at the golden capstone, which Langdon realized she had

only seen in X-ray.

“The inscription,” Sato demanded. “Does it mean anything to you? ‘The secret hides within The Order’?”

“We’re not sure, ma’am.”

“Why is the pyramid steaming hot?”

“We submerged it in boiling water,” Katherine said without hesitation. “It was part of the process of

deciphering the code. We’ll tell you everything, but please let us go see my brother. He’s been through—”

“You boiled the pyramid?” Sato demanded.

“Turn off the flashlight,” Katherine said. “Look at the capstone. You can probably still see.”

The agent flicked off his light, and Sato knelt down before the capstone. Even from where Langdon was

standing, he could see that the text on the capstone was still glowing slightly.

“Eight Franklin Square?” Sato said, sounding amazed.

“Yes, ma’am. That text was written with an incandescent lacquer or something. The thirty-third degree was

actually—”

“And the address?” Sato demanded. “Is this what this guy wants?”

“Yes,” Langdon said. “He believes the pyramid is a map that will tell him the location of a great treasure—

the key to unlocking the Ancient Mysteries.”

Sato looked again at the capstone, her expression one of disbelief. “Tell me,” she said, fear creeping into her

voice, “have you contacted this man yet? Have you already given him this address?”

“We tried.” Langdon explained what had happened when they called the man’s cell phone.

Sato listened, running her tongue over her yellow teeth as he spoke. Despite looking ready to erupt with

anger over the situation, she turned to one of her agents and spoke in a restrained whisper. “Send him in.

He’s in the SUV.”

The agent nodded and spoke into his transceiver.

“Send who in?” Langdon said.

“The only person who has any hope of fixing the goddamn mess you made!”

“What mess?” Langdon fired back. “Now that Peter is safe, everything is—”

“For Christ’s sake!” Sato exploded. “This is not about Peter! I tried to tell you that at the Capitol Building,

Professor, but you chose to work against me rather than with me! Now you’ve made an ungodly mess! When

you destroyed your cell phone, which, by the way, we were tracking, you cut off your communication with

this man. And this address you uncovered—whatever the hell it is—this address was our one chance to catch

this lunatic. I needed you to play his game, to provide him with this address so we would know where the

hell to catch him!”

Before Langdon could reply, Sato directed the remainder of her wrath at Katherine.

“And you, Ms. Solomon! You knew where this maniac lived? Why didn’t you tell me? You sent a rent-a-cop

to this man’s house? Don’t you see you’ve ruined any chance we had of catching him there? I’m glad your

brother is safe, but let me tell you this, we are facing a crisis tonight whose ramifications far outreach your

family. They will be felt all around the world. The man who took your brother has enormous power, and we

need to catch him immediately.”

As she finished her tirade, the tall, elegant silhouette of Warren Bellamy emerged from the shadows and

stepped into the sitting room. He looked rumpled, bruised, and shaken . . . like he’d been through hell.

“Warren!” Langdon stood up. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he replied. “Not really.”

“Did you hear? Peter is safe!”

Bellamy nodded, looking dazed, as if nothing mattered anymore. “Yes, I just heard your conversation. I’m

glad.”

“Warren, what the hell is going on?”

Sato intervened. “You boys can catch up in a minute. Right now, Mr. Bellamy is going to reach out to this

lunatic and communicate with him. Just like he’s been doing all night.”

Langdon felt lost. “Bellamy hasn’t been communicating with this guy tonight! This guy doesn’t even know

Bellamy is involved!”

Sato turned to Bellamy and raised her eyebrows.

Bellamy sighed. “Robert, I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely honest with you this evening.” Langdon could

only stare. “I thought I was doing the right thing . . .” Bellamy said, looking frightened.

“Well,” Sato said, “now you will do the right thing . . . and we’d all better pray to God it works.” As if to

substantiate Sato’s portentous tone, the mantel clock began chiming the hour. Sato took out a Ziploc bag of

items and tossed it to Bellamy. “Here’s your stuff. Does your cell phone take photos?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Hold up the capstone.”

The message Mal’akh had just received was from his contact—Warren Bellamy—the Mason he had sent to

the Capitol Building earlier tonight to assist Robert Langdon. Bellamy, like Langdon, wanted Peter Solomon

back alive and had assured Mal’akh he would help Langdon acquire and decipher the pyramid. All night,

Mal’akh had been receiving e-mail updates, which had been automatically forwarded to his cell phone.

This should be interesting, Mal’akh thought, opening the message.

From: Warren Bellamy

got separated from langdon

but finally have info you

demanded. proof attached.

call for missing piece. —wb

—one attachment (jpeg)—

Call for missing piece? Mal’akh wondered, opening the attachment.

The attachment was a photo.

When Mal’akh saw it, he gasped out loud, and he could feel his heart start pounding with excitement. He was

looking at a close-up of a tiny golden pyramid. The legendary capstone! The ornate engraving on the face

carried a promising message: The secret hides within The Order.

Beneath the inscription, Mal’akh now saw something that stunned him. The capstone seemed to be glowing.

In disbelief, he stared at the faintly radiant text and realized that the legend was literally true: The Masonic

Pyramid transforms itself to reveal its secret to the worthy.

How this magical transformation had occurred, Mal’akh had no idea, and he didn’t care. The glowing text

was clearly pointing to a specific location in D.C., exactly as prophesied. Franklin Square. Unfortunately, the

photo of the capstone also included Warren Bellamy’s index finger, which was strategically positioned on the

capstone to block out a critical piece of information.

The

secret hides

within The Order

Franklin Square

Call for missing piece. Mal’akh now understood Bellamy’s meaning.

The Architect of the Capitol had been cooperative all night, but now he had chosen to play a very dangerous

game.

CHAPTER 92

Beneath the watchful gaze of several armed CIA agents, Langdon, Katherine, and Bellamy waited with Sato

in the Cathedral College sitting room. On the coffee table before them, Langdon’s leather bag was still open,

the golden capstone peeking out the top. The words Eight Franklin Square had now faded away, leaving no

evidence that they had ever existed.

Katherine had pleaded with Sato to let her go see her brother, but Sato had simply shaken her head, eyes

fixed on Bellamy’s cell phone. It sat on the coffee table and had yet to ring.

Why didn’t Bellamy just tell me the truth? Langdon wondered. Apparently, the Architect had been in contact

with Peter’s captor all night, reassuring him that Langdon was making progress deciphering the pyramid. It

was a bluff, an attempt to buy time for Peter. In fact, Bellamy was doing all he could to interfere with anyone

who threatened to unveil the pyramid’s secret. Now, however, it seemed that Bellamy had switched sides. He

and Sato were now prepared to risk the pyramid’s secret in hopes of catching this man.

“Take your hands off me!” shouted an elderly voice in the hall. “I’m blind, not inept! I know my way

through the college!” Dean Galloway was still protesting loudly as a CIA agent manhandled him into the

sitting room and forced him into one of the chairs.

“Who’s here?” Galloway demanded, his blank eyes staring dead ahead. “It sounds like a lot of you. How

many do you need to detain an old man? Really now!”

“There are seven of us,” Sato declared. “Including Robert Langdon, Katherine Solomon, and your Masonic

brother Warren Bellamy.”

Galloway slumped, all his bluster gone.

“We’re okay,” Langdon said. “And we just heard that Peter is safe. He’s in bad shape, but the police are with

him.”

“Thank heavens,” Galloway said. “And the—”

A loud rattling caused everyone in the room to jump. It was Bellamy’s cell phone vibrating against the coffee

table. Everyone fell silent.

“Okay, Mr. Bellamy,” Sato said. “Don’t blow it. You know the stakes.”

Bellamy took a deep breath and exhaled. Then he reached down and pressed the speakerphone button to

connect the call.

“Bellamy here,” he said, speaking loudly toward the phone on the coffee table.

The voice that crackled back through the speaker was familiar, an airy whisper. It sounded like he was

calling from a hands-free speakerphone inside a car. “It’s past midnight, Mr. Bellamy. I was about to put

Peter out of his misery.”

There was an uneasy silence in the room. “Let me talk to him.”

“Impossible,” the man replied. “We’re driving. He’s tied up in the trunk.”

Langdon and Katherine exchanged looks and then began shaking their heads at everyone. He’s bluffing! He

no longer has Peter!

Sato motioned for Bellamy to keep pressing.

“I want proof that Peter’s alive,” Bellamy said. “I’m not giving you the rest of—”

“Your Worshipful Master needs a doctor. Don’t waste time with negotiations. Tell me the street number on

Franklin Square, and I’ll bring Peter to you there.”

“I told you, I want—”

“Now!” the man exploded. “Or I will pull over and Peter Solomon dies this instant!”

“You listen to me,” Bellamy said forcefully. “If you want the rest of the address, you’ll play by my rules.

Meet me at Franklin Square. Once you deliver Peter alive, I’ll tell you the number of the building.”

“How do I know you won’t bring the authorities?”

“Because I can’t risk double-crossing you. Peter’s life is not the only card you hold. I know what’s really at

stake tonight.”

“You do realize,” the man on the phone said, “that if I sense so much as a hint of anyone other than you at

Franklin Square, I will keep driving, and you will never find even a trace of Peter Solomon. And of course . .

. that will be the least of your worries.”

“I’ll come alone,” Bellamy replied somberly. “When you turn over Peter, I’ll give you everything you need.”

“Center of the square,” the man said. “It will take me at least twenty minutes to get there. I suggest you wait

for me as long as it takes.”

The line went dead.

Instantly, the room sprang to life. Sato began shouting orders. Several field agents grabbed their radios and

headed for the door. “Move! Move!”

In the chaos, Langdon looked to Bellamy for some kind of explanation as to what was actually going on

tonight, but the older man was already being hurried out the door.

“I need to see my brother!” Katherine shouted. “You have to let us go!”

Sato walked over to Katherine. “I don’t have to do anything, Ms. Solomon. Is that clear?”

Katherine stood her ground and looked desperately into Sato’s small eyes.

“Ms. Solomon, my top priority is apprehending the man at Franklin Square, and you will sit here with one of

my men until I accomplish that task. Then, and only then, will we deal with your brother.”

“You’re missing the point,” Katherine said. “I know exactly where this man lives! It’s literally five minutes

up the road in Kalorama Heights, and there will be evidence there that will help you! Besides, you said you

want to keep this quiet. Who knows what Peter will start telling the authorities once he’s stabilized.”

Sato pursed her lips, apparently registering Katherine’s point. Outside, the chopper blades began winding up.

Sato frowned and then turned to one of her men. “Hartmann, you take the Escalade. Transport Ms. Solomon

and Mr. Langdon to Kalorama Heights. Peter Solomon is not to speak to anyone. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the agent said.

“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