Page 72 of The Secret of Secrets (Robert Langdon #6)
Within seconds of the smoke alarm sounding, Lieutenant Pavel could hear the docent frantically unbolting the doors of the Baroque Library.
I gave you orders! Pavel fumed. Stay out!
But apparently the threat of fire in an ancient library overruled even úZSI orders, and the docent dashed in, wheeling wildly and looking for the source of the smoke.
Pavel was at the farthest end of the room, perched atop the display case, preparing to climb the ladder to the balcony. The docent never even noticed him, fixated instead on the pillar of smoke rising off the balcony. The docent ran to the hidden bookcase, trying in vain to open it.
I can still kill Langdon, Pavel knew, beginning his climb up the ladder. An eye for an eye.
Two other museum employees with fire extinguishers ran in behind the docent, shouting to one another and trying to open the concealed door without breaking it. No luck. But the smoke billowing through the trapdoor now seemed to be abating as quickly as it had begun.
Pavel was halfway up the ladder when another docent spotted him. The elderly man rushed over, looking horrified to see someone on a jerry-rigged ladder atop the library’s priceless exhibit. “Co to sakra dělá??!” the docent yelled, arriving beneath him. What the fuck are you doing?!
Pavel ignored him, still climbing.
As he neared the top, he could taste the smoke in his lungs. The murky cloud had coalesced just above him, along the peak of the arched ceiling, although loud ventilation fans had just been turned on and seemed to be clearing the air rapidly.
Pavel arrived at the top of the ladder and peered over the balcony railing toward the trapdoor at the far end.
It was still wide open. The American’s smoke plan had been clever, but it was about to backfire.
Langdon will never see me coming. Even if he unlocked the door and dashed out into the library, Pavel held the high ground—a perfect vantage point for the kill shot.
Patience, his captain had urged, and patience had paid off. Reaching out, he grabbed the iron railing of the balcony and prepared to pull himself over.
“Lieutenant Pavel!” a woman’s authoritative voice shouted from the library entrance. “Stop right there!”
Perched on the top rung, Pavel turned and scanned the library, blinking several times, trying to make sense of what he now saw. The mirage moving toward him was so unexpected and bizarre that he wondered if maybe the smoke and skull injury were triggering a hallucination.
The woman approaching was an elegant, dark-haired beauty—easily one of the most breathtaking women Pavel had ever seen in the flesh.
She moved on slender legs that carried her with the intensity of a fashion model on the runway.
She could have been one of Pavel’s Dream Zone fantasies…
except for one small problem: she was flanked by two U.S.
Marines in full embassy blues and carrying sidearms.
Inside the stairwell, on the landing of the spiral, Langdon stood over the smoldering pile of ash, wanting to ensure that every last ember was extinguished.
This fire made possible by Procter for a moment, he feared he’d made a terrible mistake and put the entire library in danger.
The fire was raging in a matter of seconds.
While feeding more pages, Langdon also drained the remains of Katherine’s water and tossed the plastic bottle onto the manuscript pages, creating billowing clouds of black smoke as it melted.
It was rare that Langdon invoked Shakespeare, but this near disaster seemed Bard-worthy. All’s well that ends well, he assured himself, considering he could have burned down a priceless library or been shot dead.
Now, after confirming he had left nothing behind, Langdon hoisted Katherine’s bag, which was much lighter without her manuscript and water.
She had already descended in silence, distraught over witnessing her manuscript pages being incinerated.
Langdon felt confident that she would eventually come to understand that he had played their cards as best as he possibly could.
We’re alive.
As Langdon came down the steps, he could hear multiple conversations outside the bookcase door, and he hoped the crowd included museum security.
“Mr. Langdon?!” a deep voice called through the door. The accent was American. “I am Marine Embassy Guard Morgan Dudley.”
Langdon and Katherine exchanged a startled look. That was fast.
“You are safe to exit, sir,” the man announced. “I can confirm that the úZSI lieutenant who threatened you has relinquished his weapon, and the Blue Alert has been canceled.”
Langdon had no idea what a Blue Alert was, but the embassy’s presence certainly sounded like an improvement over úZSI.
“Open the door, sir.” The voice was polite but firmer now.
Katherine immediately began untying the sleeve of her full-length coat from the door handle.
“Wait!” Langdon whispered, feeling apprehensive. “He could be an úZSI officer imitating an American.”
Whether the man outside was psychic or had overheard the comment, Langdon did not know, but a moment later a laminated carnet came skittering in beneath the door.
In the dim light, Langdon couldn’t read the small text, but fittingly, his fears were allayed by the card’s embossed symbol —a bald eagle with a shield of stars and stripes.
Outside the bookcase, Dana Daněk waited anxiously for the hidden door to open. Less than ten minutes had passed since Ambassador Nagel had rushed into Dana’s office with an urgent order—to go with a Marine escort to the Klementinum and save an American’s life.
Mission accomplished, she thought. Albeit barely.
Lieutenant Pavel had been escorted out of the library and into a holding room, and his superiors had been alerted. úZSI was incensed to learn of the U.S. embassy’s intervention in an official Blue Alert—no matter its origins—although they had no choice but to issue an immediate “Alert Retraction.”
When the bookcase finally swung open, Robert Langdon stepped forward, squinting from within the darkened alcove. Dana Daněk was relieved to see him safe, and yet she was shocked to see him emerge with a woman. Dana recognized the elegant face in an instant.
Katherine Solomon.