|
She shifted in the backseat of the van, where the same young agent was still seated beside her. She closed her eyes again, fighting the pain and nausea. Mostly, though, she fought the fear.
Time is running out.
Even though her enemy had jumped to his death, she still saw his silhouette in her dreams, lecturing her in the darkness of the Council on Foreign Relations.
It is imperative that someone take bold action, he had declared, his green eyes flashing. If not us, who? If not now, when?
Elizabeth knew she should have stopped him right then when she had the chance. She would never forget storming out of that meeting and fuming in the back of the limo as she headed across Manhattan toward JFK International Airport. Eager to know who the hell this maniac could be, she pulled out her cell phone to look at the surprise snapshot she had taken of him.
When she saw the photo, she gasped aloud. Dr. Elizabeth Sinskey knew exactly who this man was. The good news was that he would be very easy to track. The bad news was that he was a genius in his field—a very dangerous person should he choose to be.
Nothing is more creative … nor destructive … than a brilliant mind with a purpose.
By the time she arrived at the airport thirty minutes later, she had called her team and placed this man on the bioterrorism watch lists of every relevant agency on earth—the CIA, the CDC, the ECDC, and all of their sister organizations around the world.
That’s all I can do until I get back to Geneva, she thought.
Exhausted, she carried her overnight bag to check-in and handed the attendant her passport and ticket.
“Oh, Dr. Sinskey,” the attendant said with a smile. “A very nice gentleman just left a message for you.”
“I’m sorry?” Elizabeth knew of nobody who had access to her flight information.
“He was very tall?” the attendant said. “With green eyes?”
Elizabeth literally dropped her bag. He’s here? How?! She spun around, looking at the faces behind her.
“He left already,” the attendant said, “but he wanted us to give you this.” She handed Elizabeth a folded piece of stationery.
Shaking, Elizabeth unfolded the paper and read the handwritten note.
It was a famous quote derived from the work of Dante Alighieri.
The darkest places in hell
are reserved for those
who maintain their neutrality
in times of moral crisis.
CHAPTER 39
MARTA ALVAREZ GAZED tiredly up the steep staircase that ascended from the Hall of the Five Hundred to the second-floor museum.
Posso farcela, she told herself. I can do it.
As an arts and culture administrator at the Palazzo Vecchio, Marta had climbed these stairs countless times, but recently, being more than eight months pregnant, she found the ascent significantly more taxing.
“Marta, are you sure we don’t want to take the elevator?” Robert Langdon looked concerned and motioned to the small service elevator nearby, which the palazzo had installed for handicapped visitors.
Marta smiled appreciatively but shook her head. “As I told you last night, my doctor says the exercise is good for the baby. Besides, Professor, I know you’re claustrophobic.”
Langdon seemed strangely startled by her comment. “Oh, right. I forgot I mentioned that.”
Forgot he mentioned it? Marta puzzled. It was less than twelve hours ago, and we discussed at length the childhood incident that led to the fear.
Last night, while Langdon’s morbidly obese companion, il Duomino, ascended in the elevator, Langdon had accompanied Marta on foot. En route Langdon had shared with her a vivid description of a boyhood fall into an abandoned well that had left him with a nearly debilitating fear of cramped spaces.
Now, while Langdon’s younger sister bounded ahead, her blond ponytail swinging behind her, Langdon and Marta ascended methodically, pausing several times so she could catch her breath. “I’m surprised you want to see the mask again,” she said. “Considering all the pieces in Florence, this one seems among the least interesting.”
Langdon gave a noncommittal shrug. “I’ve returned mainly so Sienna can see it. Thank you, by the way, for letting us in again.”
“Of course.”
Langdon’s reputation would have sufficed last night to persuade Marta to open the gallery for him, but the fact that he had been accompanied by il Duomino meant that she really had no choice.
69/205 首页 上一页 67 68 69 70 71 72 下一页 尾页
|
