Page 73 of The Secret of Secrets (Robert Langdon #6)
Still shivering from her time in the frigid stairwell, Katherine savored the relative warmth of the Klementinum hallways as the embassy’s striking PR liaison, Ms. Daněk, hustled them toward the museum exit.
U.S. Marines had scoured the alcove, taking photos of the ash pile on the landing and collecting charred scraps of manuscript pages from the floor.
Their keen interest in the burned remains of her book, as inconceivable as it was, seemed to support Langdon’s claim that her manuscript was indeed at the center of whatever had been happening here today.
But why?
It was starting to seem more evident that Langdon might have made the right call; the manuscript made them a target, and removing it had saved their lives.
The thought of writing her book all over again filled Katherine with a dread she could not begin to process at that moment.
Langdon had suggested that PRH might somehow be able to retrieve a digital copy from the hacked server, or maybe the hackers would demand a reasonable ransom.
She hoped he was correct. Or maybe the universe would offer up some unforeseen miracle.
We’re alive, she thought. Let’s start there.
She couldn’t fathom that Brigita Gessner was dead, and clearly Langdon still had a lot to share about his own morning; he had just informed Dana Daněk that he was deeply concerned about the safety of two individuals. Michael Harris? Sasha Vesna? Katherine recognized neither name.
In addition, quite strangely, when Langdon asked Ms. Daněk to borrow a phone to check on Jonas Faukman, she had refused, saying the ambassador insisted on no outside contact until Katherine and Langdon had been brought to safety and fully briefed…for their own protection.
Our own protection?!
Langdon was walking beside Katherine now, and she reached out and took his hand.
The group, led by the armed American Marines, exited the museum through a series of courtyards and archways into the bustle of Marian Square.
Directly ahead, the flags of the New City Hall flapped in the bitter wind, and Katherine heard sirens growing louder in the distance.
Their Marine escorts, apparently hearing the sirens as well, now urged them to move faster.
Langdon gripped Katherine’s hand more tightly and they quickly followed the Marines into the square to their waiting vehicle.
That’s our ride? Katherine thought, startled. Not exactly discreet.
One of the Marines was holding open the door of a black stretch limousine that bore the U.S. embassy logo on the side and two small banners on the hood—one Czech and one American—both red, white, and blue. The limo was already drawing considerable attention in the square.
“Forgive the formality,” Ms. Daněk said. “Diplomatic vehicles provide a level of protection from local authorities. The ambassador thought it prudent. Please get in.”
From the sounds of approaching sirens, Katherine realized that diplomatic immunity might be a good thing. As Katherine took a step toward the car, however, Langdon discreetly restrained her with a strong grip on her hand.
The sirens wailed closer.
“Ma’am?” the Marine said. “We need you both in the vehicle now. ”
Langdon’s hand remained firm and immobile, his eyes locked on the American flag fluttering on the limo’s hood. Katherine had no idea what he was thinking, but for some reason, Robert seemed to be having second thoughts about getting into the car.
“Get in, sir!” the Marine shouted suddenly as a line of black sedans with lights flashing rounded a corner and came into view. “Now!”
Langdon’s eyes shifted from the flag to the interior of the limo to the flashing lights of the approaching authorities. Finally, with the reluctance of a man choosing the lesser of two evils, he helped Katherine into the limo and climbed in after her.
The Marine slammed the car door just as a convoy of úZSI vehicles arrived, sirens splitting the cold morning air.
Dana Daněk stood on the curb and watched the embassy limo speed away. She wasn’t sure what Langdon’s hesitation had been, but it no longer mattered. With both of them safely under the ambassador’s control, Dana had fulfilled her duty.
She had already phoned Ambassador Nagel, who sounded deeply relieved that Langdon and Solomon had both been found alive. Now, however, Dana had additional information—deeply troubling information—and she found a quiet niche behind a statue on the corner of City Hall to call the ambassador back.
“There’s one more thing to report, ma’am,” Dana said when the call was transferred to the ambassador. “I just spoke to Professor Langdon, who said he has reason to be very concerned about the safety of Sasha Vesna…” She paused, emotions catching in her throat. “And also that of…Michael Harris.”
“Harris?” Nagel sounded surprised. “Did Langdon tell you why he’s concerned?”
Dana had now been informed of the true nature of Michael’s “relationship” with Sasha Vesna, and while Dana was relieved that these trysts were not Michael’s choice, she was also inwardly furious that the ambassador would put him in such a position.
He’s a legal attaché, for God’s sake—not a trained field operative!
“We didn’t have time to talk,” Dana replied, “but he said he and Sasha were supposed to meet Michael at her apartment, but something happened. Langdon urged me to send someone over to check on them both. He gave me Sasha’s apartment key.”
“Langdon had Sasha’s key?”
Dana glanced down at the chintzy Krazy Kitten key ring that Langdon had just handed her. “She insisted he take it—in case he needed a safe place to go.”
The ambassador was silent for an unusually long beat. “Okay,” she finally said. “I’ll send Scott Kerble down to pick you up right away. He can accompany you to Sasha’s.”
Me?! Dana had not expected to be sent over herself and wondered if it was punishment or a vote of confidence. Either way, Nagel was sending her most trusted and skilled Marine security guard. It seemed the ambassador wanted to be absolutely certain that nothing else went wrong today.
Despite the warm air pouring from the limousine’s vents, Katherine Solomon’s chill only deepened as she listened to Robert’s account of the events of his morning.
“My God, Robert. I don’t know what to say…” Langdon’s account of the woman on the bridge, reenacting Katherine’s nightmare, left her speechless.
As the car roared along the river toward the embassy, Langdon shared another disturbing piece of news—the reason he had hesitated before getting into the limousine.
The U.S. embassy seal on the sides of the vehicle.
As Langdon explained himself, Katherine realized he had just experienced what noeticists called “delayed visual processing,” which was common among people with eidetic memories.
Because eidetic memories recorded such vast quantities of visual input, the brain did not process all of it in real time.
In fact, most of the visual input held by an eidetic memory was never accessed at all, never recalled unless the individual actively tried to recall what he or she had seen.
Or…unless there was a trigger.
The U.S. embassy seal on the limousine door had triggered one of Langdon’s memories from this morning—a note card emblazoned with the same embassy seal, which accompanied the large arrangement of red, white, and blue tulips that had been sent to their hotel by the U.S. embassy.
“When I returned to our room this morning,” Langdon explained, “the bay window was still wide open, and I noticed the embassy note card was on the floor. The room was freezing—and the wind had begun to wilt the flowers on the sill. But as I closed the window, I saw a thin metal rod with a clear plastic cone on top—it was nestled among the flower stalks.”
Langdon ran a hand over his dark hair and seemed to be retrieving details of the memory.
“The device barely registered in that moment—I thought it was a humidity detector or something trivial—but with everything going on now, I just realized I’ve seen a similar device at Boston Symphony Hall…a parabolic microphone hovering over the orchestra to capture every nuance of the music.
“Wait…” Katherine stammered. “You think our flowers were bugged ?!”
Langdon nodded. “You and I were sitting right near the bouquet when we talked about your nightmare last night. It’s the only explanation. If someone heard you describe—”
“But it truly makes no sense!” she exclaimed, shaking her head. “Why would our own embassy eavesdrop on us? And even if they had been listening and overheard my dream, why would they ever want to… re-create it?”
“I don’t know. But I damn well intend to ask the ambassador when we get to the embassy.”
“We’re not going to the embassy,” Katherine said. “I heard Dana tell the driver to take us to the ambassador’s residence.”
Langdon looked surprised. “Why?”
Katherine shrugged. “Maybe she thought it would be more welcoming?”
From the troubled look on Langdon’s face, she could see he found this change to be the exact opposite of welcoming.
“Special protections for U.S. citizens take effect only inside the embassy itself,” he whispered.
“The ambassador knows that. Meeting at her residence means you and I are still…unprotected. Exposed.”
Katherine felt a stab of panic. What could they possibly want from us? She wished she’d never accepted Gessner’s request to speak in Prague.
“For whatever reason, this all revolves around your book, Katherine.” Langdon leaned forward, his eyes holding hers. “You need to talk to me. We’ve only got a few minutes alone, and you need to tell me everything. What’s in the manuscript? What did you discover?”
Katherine had wanted Langdon to read about her experiments and conclusions in full detail, but that luxury was no longer an option.
There is no manuscript…and there is no time.
“Okay,” she whispered, sliding closer to him. “I’ll tell you.”