"He won't find anything," Langdon said, still feeling groggy and disorientated as he followed Sato and the others up the wooden ramp out of the basement. "There is no actual Word. It's all a metaphor--a symbol of the Ancient Mysteries."
Katherine followed, with two agents assisting her weakened body up the ramp.
As the group moved gingerly through the wreckage of the steel door, through the rotating painting, and into the living room, Langdon explained to Sato that the Lost Word was one of Freemasonry's most enduring symbols--a single word, written in an arcane language that man could no longer decipher. The Word, like the Mysteries themselves, promised to unveil its hidden power only to those enlightened enough to decrypt it. "It is said," Langdon concluded, "that if you can possess and understand the Lost Word . . . then the Ancient Mysteries will become clear to you."
Sato glanced over. "So you believe this man is looking for a word?"
Langdon had to admit it sounded absurd at face value, and yet it answered a lot of questions. "Look, I'm no specialist in ceremonial magic," he said, "but from the documents on his basement walls . . . and from Katherine's description of the untattooed flesh on his head . . . I'd say he's hoping to find the Lost Word and inscribe it on his body."
Sato moved the group toward the dining room. Outside, the helicopter was warming up, its blades thundering louder and louder.
Langdon kept talking, thinking aloud. "If this guy truly believes he is about to unlock the power of the Ancient Mysteries, no symbol would be more potent in his mind than the Lost Word. If he could find it and inscribe it on the top of his head--a sacred location in itself--then he would no doubt consider himself perfectly adorned and ritualistically prepared to . . ." He paused, seeing Katherine blanch at the thought of Peter's impending fate.
"But, Robert," she said weakly, her voice barely audible over the helicopter blades. "This is good news, right? If he wants to inscribe the Lost Word on the top of his head before he sacrifices Peter, then we have time. He won't kill Peter until he finds the Word. And, if there is no Word . . ."
Langdon tried to look hopeful as the agents helped Katherine into a chair. "Unfortunately, Peter still thinks you're bleeding to death. He thinks the only way to save you is to cooperate with this lunatic . . .probably to help him find the Lost Word."
"So what?" she insisted. "If the Word doesn't exist--"
"Katherine," Langdon said, staring deeply into her eyes. "If I believed you were dying, and if someone promised me I could save you by finding the Lost Word, then I would find this man a word--any word--and then I'd pray to God he kept his promise."
"Director Sato!" an agent shouted from the next room. "You'd better see this!"
Sato hurried out of the dining room and saw one of her agents coming down the stairs from the bedroom. He was carrying a blond wig. What the hell?
"Man's hairpiece," he said, handing it to her. "Found it in the dressing room. Have a close look."
The blond wig was much heavier than Sato expected. The skullcap seemed to be molded of a thick gel. Strangely, the underside of the wig had a wire protruding from it.
"Gel-pack battery that molds to your scalp," the agent said. "Powers a fiber-optic pinpoint camera hidden in the hair."
"What?" Sato felt around with her fingers until she found the tiny camera lens nestled invisibly within the blond bangs. "This thing's a hidden camera?"
"Video camera," the agent said. "Stores footage on this tiny solid-state card." He pointed to a stamp-size square of silicon embedded in the skullcap. "Probably motion activated."
Jesus, she thought. So that's how he did it.
This sleek version of the "flower in the lapel" secret camera had played a key role in the crisis the OS director was facing tonight. She glared at it a moment longer and then handed it back to the agent.
"Keep searching the house," she said. "I want every bit of information you can find on this guy. We know his laptop is missing, and I want to know exactly how he plans to connect it to the outside world while he's on the move. Search his study for manuals, cables, anything at all that might give us a clue about his hardware."
"Yes, ma'am." The agent hurried off.
Time to move out. Sato could hear the whine of the helicopter blades at full pitch. She hurried back to the dining room, where Simkins had now ushered Warren Bellamy in from the helicopter and was gathering intel from him about the building to which they believed their target had gone.
House of the Temple.
"The front doors are sealed from within," Bellamy was saying, still wrapped in a foil blanket and shivering visibly from his time outside in Franklin Square. "The building's rear entrance is your only way in. It's got a keypad with an access PIN known only to the brothers."
"What's the PIN?" Simkins demanded, taking notes.
Bellamy sat down, looking too feeble to stand. Through chattering teeth, he recited his access code and then added, "The address is 1733 Sixteenth, but you'll want the access drive and parking area, behind the building. Kind of tricky to find, but--"
"I know exactly where it is," Langdon said. "I'll show you when we get there."
Simkins shook his head. "You're not coming, Professor. This is a military--"
"The hell I'm not!" Langdon fired back. "Peter's in there! And that building's a labyrinth! Without someone to lead you in, you'll take ten minutes to find your way up to the Temple Room!"
"He's right," Bellamy said. "It's a maze. There is an elevator, but it's old and loud and opens in full view of the Temple Room. If you hope to move in quietly, you'll need to ascend on foot."
"You'll never find your way," Langdon warned. "From that rear entrance, you're navigating through the Hall of Regalia, the Hall of Honor, the middle landing, the Atrium, the Grand Stair-- "
"Enough," Sato said. "Langdon's coming."
CHAPTER 116
The energy was growing.
Mal'akh could feel it pulsing within him, moving up and down his body as he wheeled Peter Solomon toward the altar. I will exit this building infinitely more powerful than when I entered. All that remained now was to locate the final ingredient.
"Verbum significatium," he whispered to himself. "Verbum omnificum."
Mal'akh parked Peter's wheelchair beside the altar and then circled around and unzipped the heavy daybag that sat on Peter's lap. Reaching inside, he lifted out the stone pyramid and held it up in the moonlight, directly in front of Peter's eyes, showing him the grid of symbols engraved on the bottom. "All these years," he taunted, "and you never knew how the pyramid kept her secrets." Mal'akh set the pyramid carefully on the corner of the altar and returned to the bag. "And this talisman," he continued, extracting the golden capstone, "did indeed bring order from chaos, exactly as promised." He placed the metal capstone carefully atop the stone pyramid, and then stepped back to give Peter a clear view. "Behold, your symbolon is complete."
Peter's face contorted, and he tried in vain to speak.
"Good. I can see you have something you'd like to tell me." Mal'akh roughly yanked out the gag.
Peter Solomon coughed and gasped for several seconds before he finally managed to speak. "Katherine . . ."
"Katherine's time is short. If you want to save her, I suggest you do exactly as I say." Mal'akh suspected she was probably already dead, or if not, very close. It made no difference. She was lucky to have lived long enough to say good-bye to her brother.