Page 51 of The Secret of Secrets (Robert Langdon #6)

Michael Harris arrived outside Sasha Vesna’s apartment door wondering how many times he had stood right here, ashamed, telling himself that this would be his last visit.

Steeling himself, he knocked loudly. No answer. He tried the door and found it unlocked.

Not surprising. She is expecting me.

“Sasha?” he called, entering the apartment. “I’m here!”

The only signs of life were Harry and Sally padding toward him down the hallway. Harris stepped inside and closed the door so the cats could not get out.

“Sasha? Professor Langdon?”

Silence.

Puzzled, Harris headed down the hall and into the kitchen. He saw three cups laid out for tea, steam rising from the kettle.

Strange. Have they left?

As he began to turn back toward the hallway, a floorboard creaked behind him, and a sudden blaze of electricity tore through the center of his back. Instantly paralyzed, Harris dropped to his knees and pitched forward, crashing into the floor.

For several seconds, his mind went blank, ears ringing, muscles locked. As he slowly regained his mental bearings, all Harris could imagine was that someone had just stepped out of the small kitchen closet and used a Taser on him.

What’s happened to Sasha and Langdon?!

“Sa…sha!” Harris tried to call to her, barely audible.

“Sasha cannot hear you,” a deep, hollow voice said above him. “Not where she is now.”

No. Before Harris was able to roll over and see his attacker, he felt the prongs of the stun gun pressing sharply into the base of his skull.

There was a scalding blast…and his world went entirely black.

The Golěm stood over the paralyzed body of Michael Harris, who lay facedown on the wooden floor.

The Vipertek stun gun blast had knocked him unconscious.

Straddling the powerful man, The Golěm crouched down, took out a heavy plastic bag he had found in the closet, and pulled it over Harris’s head.

Twisting it tightly around his neck, The Golěm cut off the man’s oxygen supply.

Three minutes later, The Golěm released his grip.

He suffered very little.

Sasha would appreciate that. The Golěm had locked Sasha away and intended to keep her there until he was prepared for his final step.

Now, as he stood up, The Golěm could feel the Ether gathering, as it often did in moments of exertion. He quickly took out the metal wand he carried at all times.

“Ne seychas,” he whispered, rubbing the wand on top of his head. Not now.

The Ether would have to wait. There was work yet to complete in this realm. Abandoning the corpse on the floor, The Golěm disposed of the plastic bag in the kitchen trash and walked to a small desk in the hallway, where he sat down to write.

The only paper he could locate was a sheet of Sasha’s stationery, which was decorated with kittens. Nonetheless, he composed a short letter and sealed it in a matching envelope.

He addressed the envelope in bold letters to Michael Harris’s superior.

U.S. Ambassador Heide Nagel.

Before exiting, The Golěm dropped the envelope onto the attaché’s lifeless body. Then, leaving Sasha’s door unlocked, he headed home.