Page 142 of The Secret of Secrets (Robert Langdon #6)

High above a dark expanse of ocean, Scott Kerble could feel a deep fatigue settling in. As the jet raced westward ahead of the rising sun, he walked to the rear of the plane to make one final check before he closed his eyes.

Sasha was sleeping soundly.

Kerble had already removed her handcuffs and substituted a single ankle restraint affixed to her chair. He had also let Harry and Sally out of their travel crate, and the two Siamese cats were now dozing on the seat beside her, intertwined with each other, a single ball of fur, purring as one.

Kerble returned to his seat and shed his jacket, feeling the encrypted hard drive in his pocket.

He pulled it out and studied the device, curious what could possibly be on it that had given the ambassador such incontrovertible power.

As he eyed the built-in keypad, he recalled what he was supposed to tell the director about the sixteen-character passkey.

The first letter of each word in your favorite Kissinger quote.

Kerble pondered it a moment and then pulled out his phone and asked ChatGPT if CIA Director Gregory Judd had ever quoted Henry Kissinger in any public speeches.

As it turned out, Judd had done so many, many times—always the same quote—and usually accompanied by a preamble: “Only Kissinger could convey such a complex truth in only sixteen words.”

A country that demands moral perfection in its foreign policy will achieve neither perfection nor security.

ACTDMPIIFPWANPNS, Kerble thought, knowing he could easily unlock the disk and view whatever data was locked inside. He also knew he would never betray the ambassador’s trust. Without a second thought, he slid the disk deep into his duffel for delivery to the director.

Semper Fidelis, he thought as he closed his eyes to sleep.

In a backseat of the darkened cabin, The Golěm emerged from the shadows. Sasha was sound asleep, and The Golěm slipped quietly to the forefront of her mind, opening his eyes and gazing out the window. Beneath them, he saw only blackness…the great void that separated the Old World and the New.

America would be a fresh start for Sasha…as it had been for millions of people throughout history. A second chance. The Golěm finally felt confident that his dedication and love for Sasha would be rewarded. The universe helps those who understand it.

Even though The Golěm felt increasingly confident that Sasha would be safe in the ambassador’s care, he had no plans to leave Sasha entirely.

Not yet. He would continue watching from the shadows, each day a bit farther back, less and less a part of her life, eventually just a quiet whisper in her mind.

The thought felt melancholy somehow, and yet it also filled him with a sense of accomplishment.

The less she needs me, the more I have served her.

While The Golěm knew he had the power to leave Sasha entirely, to untether and return to the realm from which he had come, he sensed that a part of him would forever be with her…

a guardian angel. He would manifest quietly in the ways so many angels appear…

as an instinct, a hunch, a knowing…a helpful nudge from a more experienced soul, streaming in from another world.

Sasha will live the life she deserves.

Contented in his soul, The Golěm closed his eyes and gave himself permission to lose himself in the deepest slumber he’d enjoyed in a very long time.

“Spokoynoy nochi, milaya,” he whispered. Good night, sweetheart.

As he drifted off to sleep, his left hand reached out, by its own volition, and gently stroked the two Siamese cats purring on the seat beside him.