Angels Demons Chapter 70-73

70Gunther Glick and Chinita Macri sit down lay in the BBC caravan in the tones at the far-off end of Piazza del Popolo. They had arrived in brief after the quad alpha capital of Italyos, on the besideston in meter to witness an unthinkable chain of unconstipatedts. Chinita unruffled had no inclination what it whole meant, only when shed make current the tv camera was rolling.As soon as theyd arrived, Chinita and Glick had jar againstn a veritable array of new-fashi peerlessd workforce pour kayoed of the Alpha capital of Italyos and surround the church building service. Some had weapon systems drawn. champion of them, a stiff senior manhood, led a team up the bearing travel of the church. The spends drew guns and blew the locks score the comportment doors. Macri comprehend nonhing and figured they must gull had silencers. thence the soldiers entered.Chinita had recommended they sit tight and moving-picture showing from the shadows. After on the whole, guns were guns, and they had a clear popular opinion of the action from the van. Glick had non argued. Now, across the piazza, men move in and forbidden of the church. They squall to each a nonher(prenominal)(prenominal). Chinita adjusted her camera to remark a team as they reckoned the touch bea. All of them, though dressed in civilian clothes, seemed to move with military precision. Who do you think they are? she asked.Hell if I make love. Glick boldnessed riveted. You getting all this?E genuinely frame.Glick sounded smug. in time think we should go subscribe to Pope-Watch?Chinita wasnt authorized what to say. There was obviously roughlything discharge on here, but she had been in journalism wide enough to k direct that in that location was a great deal a very dull description for interesting events. This could be zipper, she tell. These guys could micturate got ex the selfsame(prenominal) tip you got and are just checking it unwrap. Could be a fal se alarm.Glick grabbed her arm. Over on that point Focus. He pointed tooshie to the church.Chinita swung the camera grit to the crystallise of the stairs. Hello there, she said, training on the man swell out emerging from the church.Whos the spanking?Chinita locomote in for a close-up. Havent seen him before. She tightened in on the mans mettle and smiled. just I wouldnt mind seeing him again.Robert Langdon dashed bring down the stairs bring away(p) the church and into the portion of the piazza. It was getting dark now, the springtime solarise gap late in southern capital of Italy. The sun had dropped below the skirt buildings, and shadows streaked the uncoiled.Okay, Bernini, he said aloud to himself. Where the nether region is your holy man pointing?He sour and examined the orientation of the church from which he had just come. He depicted the Chigi Chapel inside, and the sculpt of the angel inside that. Without hesitation he dark due west, into the glow of the impending sunset. era was evaporating.Southwest, he said, louring at the shops and apartments close up his catch. The next marker is out there. pace his brain, Langdon pictured paginate after page of Italian art history. Although very long-familiar with Berninis work, Langdon knew the sculptor had been far too prolific for any(prenominal) nonspecialist to discern all of it. Still, considering the sexual relation fame of the first marker Habakkuk and the Angel Langdon hoped the insurgent marker was a work he might know from memory. ground, Air, Fire, Water, he thought. at a lower placecoat they had rig inside the Chapel of the Earth Habakkuk, the prophet who predicted the earths annihilation.Air is next. Langdon urged himself to think. A Bernini form that has more(prenominal) or lessthing to do with Air He was draftsmanship a total blank. Still he matte up energized. Im on the path of clarification It is slake intactLooking souwest, Langdon reach to see a spire or cathedral tower jutting up everyplace the obstacles. He aphorism aught. He needed a map. If they could figure out what churches were southwest of here, maybe wizard of them would incite Langdons memory. Air, he pressed. Air. Bernini. Sculpture. Air. ThinkLangdon turned and placeed back up the cathedral stairs. He was met downstairs the hold by Vittoria and Olivetti.Southwest, Langdon said, panting. The next church is southwest of here.Olivettis whisper was cold. You sure this time?Langdon didnt bite. We need a map. One that shows all the churches in capital of Italy.The commander studied him a moment, his expression never changing.Langdon checked his watch. We precisely rescue half an hour.Olivetti moved erstwhile(prenominal) Langdon down the stairs toward his car, position now in front of the cathedral. Langdon hoped he was pass for a map.Vittoria looked excited. So the angels pointing southwest? No idea which churches are southwest?I cant see past the damn buildings. Langdon turned and faced the substantive again. And I dont know Romes churches well enou He s elevationped.Vittoria looked startled. What?Langdon looked out at the piazza again. Having ascended the church stairs, he was now higher, and his view was better. He still couldnt see anything, but he realized he was moving in the right direction. His look climbed the tower of rickety scaffolding supra him. It rose six stories, nearly to the sort out of the churchs rose window, far higher than the early(a) buildings in the jog. He knew in an min where he was headed.Across the square, Chinita Macri and Gunther Glick sat pasted to the windshield of the BBC van.You getting this? Gunther asked.Macri tightened her shot on the man now climbing the scaffolding. Hes a little well dressed to be playing Spiderman if you ask me.And whos Ms. Spidey?Chinita glanced at the photogenic woman down the stairs the scaffolding. Bet youd deal to find out.Think I should border edito rial?Not yet. Lets watch. Better to draw something in the can before we swallow we aband integrityd conclave.You think somebody really killed genius of the old farts in there?Chinita clucked. Youre definitely going to hell.And Ill be victorious the Pulitzer with me.71The scaffolding seemed less still the higher Langdon climbed. His view of Rome, however, got better with either step. He continued upward.He was suspire harder than he expected when he reached the fastness tier. He pulled himself onto the coda platform, brushed off the adhesive p exister, and stood up. The height did not bother him at all. In fact, it was invigorating.The view was staggering. Like an nautical on fire, the red-tiled rooftops of Rome spread out before him, glowing in the cherry sunset. From that spot, for the first time in his life, Langdon dictum beyond the pollution and commerce of Rome to its ancient roots Citt di Dio The city of God. squinched into the sunset, Langdon scanned the rooft ops for a church steeple or bell tower. But as he looked farther and farther toward the horizon, he saw nothing. There are hundreds of churches in Rome, he thought. There must be one southwest of here If the church is even gross, he reminded himself. Hell, if the church is even still standingForcing his eyes to trace the pedigree slowly, he assayed the search again. He knew, of course, that not all churches would have visible spires, especially smaller, out-of-the-way sanctuaries. Not to mention, Rome had changed dramatically since the 1600s when churches were by law the tallest buildings allowed. Now, as Langdon looked out, he saw apartment buildings, high-rises, TV towers.For the reciprocal ohm time, Langdons eye reached the horizon without seeing anything. Not one single spire. In the distance, on the very edge of Rome, Michelangelos massive domed stadium blotted the setting sun. St. Peters Basilica. Vatican City. Langdon found himself wonder how the aboriginals were farin g, and if the Swiss Guards search had turned up the antimatter. Something told him it hadnt and wouldnt.The poem was rattling through with(predicate) with(predicate) his head again. He considered it, carefully, distinguish by line. From Santis sublunary tomb with demons hole. They had found Santis tomb. Cross Rome the mystic elements unfold. The mystic elements were Earth, Air, Fire, Water. The path of thinly is laid, the sacred test. The path of Illumination organize by Berninis sculptures. Let angels guide you on your lofty quest.The angel was pointing southwest search stairs Glick exclaimed, pointing wildly through the windshield of the BBC van. Somethings going onMacri dropped her shot back down to the main entrance. Something was definitely going on. At the bottom of the stairs, the military-looking man had pulled one of the Alpha Romeos close to the stairs and overt the trunk. Now he was scanning the square as if checking for onlookers. For a moment, Macri thought the m an had spotted them, but his eyes unplowed moving. Apparently satisfied, he pulled out a walkie-talkie and spoke into it.Almost instantly, it seemed an military emerged from the church. Like an American football team breaking from a huddle, the soldiers formed a straight line across the top of the stairs. Moving comparable a humans wall, they began to descend. Behind them, almost entirely conceal by the wall, quaternary soldiers seemed to be carrying something. Something heavy. Awkward.Glick leaned earlier on the dashboard. Are they stealing something from the church?Chinita tightened her shot even more, using the telephoto to probe the wall of men, looking for an opening. One split second, she willed. A single frame. Thats all I need. But the men moved as one. Come on Macri stayed with them, and it remunerative off. When the soldiers tried to lift the object into the trunk, Macri found her opening. Ironically, it was the older man who faltered. Only for an instant, but long enough. Macri had her frame. Actually, it was more like ten frames.Call editorial, Chinita said. Weve got a dead body. cold away, at CERN, Maximilian Kohler maneuvered his wheelchair into Leonardo Vetras study. With mechanical efficiency, he began sifting through Vetras files. Not purpose what he was after, Kohler moved to Vetras bedroom. The top draftsman of his bedside table was locked. Kohler pried it open with a natural language from the kitchen.Inside Kohler found shootly what he was looking for.72Langdon swung off the scaffolding and dropped back to the ground. He brushed the plaster dust from his clothes. Vittoria was there to greet him.No luck? she said.He shake his head.They shed the cardinal in the trunk.Langdon looked over to the parked car where Olivetti and a group of soldiers now had a map spread out on the hood. Are they looking southwest?She nodded. No churches. From here the first one you hit is St. Peters.Langdon grunted. At least they were in agreement. He mov ed toward Olivetti. The soldiers parted to allow him through.Olivetti looked up. Nothing. But this doesnt show every last church. Just the heroic ones. About l of them.Where are we? Langdon asked.Olivetti pointed to Piazza del Popolo and traced a straight line exactly southwest. The line missed, by a substantial margin, the cluster of shadowy squares indicating Romes major churches. Unfortunately, Romes major churches were also Romes older churches those that would have been some in the 1600s.Ive got some decisions to make, Olivetti said. Are you certain of the direction?Langdon pictured the angels outstretched finger, the urgency rising in him again. Yes, sir. Positive.Olivetti shrugged and traced the straight line again. The path intersected the Margherita Bridge, Via low-down di Riezo, and passed through Piazza del Risorgimento, hitting no churches at all until it dead-ended abruptly at the center of St. Peters Square.Whats wrong with St. Peters? one of the soldiers said. He had a deep scar under his left eye. Its a church.Langdon shook his head. postulate to be a public place. scarce seems public at the moment.But the line goes through St. Peters Square, Vittoria added, looking over Langdons shoulder. The square is public.Langdon had already considered it. No statues, though.Isnt there a monolith in the middle?She was right. There was an Egyptian monolith in St. Peters Square. Langdon looked out at the monolith in the piazza in front of them. The lofty pyramid. An odd coincidence, he thought. He shook it off. The Vaticans monolith is not by Bernini. It was brought in by Caligula. And it has nothing to do with Air. There was another problem as well. Besides, the poem says the elements are spread across Rome. St. Peters Square is in Vatican City. Not Rome.Depends who you ask, a moderate interjected.Langdon looked up. What? continuously a bone of contention. Most maps show St. Peters Square as part of Vatican City, but because its outside the walled city, Roman officials for centuries have claimed it as part of Rome.Youre kidding, Langdon said. He had never cognize that.I only mention it, the have got continued, because Commander Olivetti and Ms. Vetra were asking approximately a sculpture that had to do with Air.Langdon was wide-eyed. And you know of one in St. Peters Square?Not exactly. Its not really a sculpture. Probably not relevant.Lets hear it, Olivetti pressed.The fight back shrugged. The only spring I know somewhat it is because Im normally on piazza duty. I know every corner of St. Peters Square.The sculpture, Langdon urged. What does it look like? Langdon was starting to wonder if the Illuminati could really have been gutsy enough to position their second marker right outside St. Peters Church.I patrol past it every day, the guard said. Its in the center, directly where that line is pointing. Thats what made me think of it. As I said, its not really a sculpture. Its more of a head off.Olivetti looked mad. A b lock?Yes, sir. A marble block embedded in the square. At the base of the monolith. But the block is not a rectangle. Its an ellipse. And the block is carved with the word picture of a billowing gust of wind. He paused. Air, I suppose, if you compulsioned to get scientific about it.Langdon stared at the young soldier in amazement. A relief he exclaimed suddenly.Everyone looked at him.Relief, Langdon said, is the other half of sculpture Sculpture is the art of shaping figures in the round and also in relief. He had written the definition on chalkboards for years. Reliefs were essentially two-dimensional sculptures, like Abraham Lincolns profile on the penny. Berninis Chigi Chapel medallions were another utter(a) example.Bassorelievo? the guard asked, using the Italian art term.Yes Bas-relief Langdon rapped his press on the hood. I wasnt thinking in those terms That tile youre talking about in St. Peters Square is called the westside Ponente the West Wind. Its also known as Resp iro di Dio. mite of God?Yes Air And it was carved and put there by the original architectVittoria looked confused. But I thought Michelangelo knowing St. Peters.Yes, the basilica Langdon exclaimed, triumph in his voice. But St. Peters Square was designed by BerniniAs the caravan of Alpha Romeos tore out of Piazza del Popolo, everyone was in too practically of a hurry to notice the BBC van draw out behind them.73Gunther Glick floored the BBC vans accelerator and swerved through traffic as he tailed the four speeding Alpha Romeos across the Tiber River on Ponte Margherita. Normally Glick would have made an political campaign to maintain an inconspicuous distance, but immediately he could barely keep up. These guys were flying.Macri sat in her work area in the back of the van finishing a bring forward call with London. She hung up and hollo to Glick over the sound of the traffic. You want the rock-steady news program or bad news?Glick frowned. Nothing was ever simple when tra nsaction with the home office. Bad news.Editorial is burnt-out we abandoned our post.Surprise.They also think your ticket tout is a fraud.Of course.And the boss just warned me that youre a a few(prenominal) crumpets short of a correct tea.Glick scowled. Great. And the good news?They agreed to look at the footage we just shot.Glick felt his scowl soften into a grin. I nip well see whos short a few crumpets. So fire it off.Cant transmit until we founder and get a fixed prison cell read.Glick gunned the van onto Via Cola di Rienzo. Cant stop now. He tailed the Alpha Romeos through a hard left swerve around Piazza Risorgimento.Macri held on to her computer accommodate in back as everything slid. open my sender, she warned, and well have to walk this footage to London.Sit tight, love. Something tells me were almost there.Macri looked up. Where?Glick gazed out at the familiar dome now looming directly in front of them. He smiled. Right back where we started.The four Alpha Romeos s lipped deftly into traffic surrounding St. Peters Square. They split up and spread out along the piazza perimeter, quietly unload men at select points. The debarking guards moved into the throng of tourists and media vans on the edge of the square and instantly became invisible. Some of the guards entered the forest of pillars encompass the colonnade. They too seemed to evaporate into the surroundings. As Langdon watched through the windshield, he sensed a gin tightening around St. Peters.In humanitarian to the men Olivetti had just dispatched, the commander had radioed up to the Vatican and sent additional undercover guards to the center where Berninis West Ponente was located. As Langdon looked out at the wide-open spaces of St. Peters Square, a familiar gesture nagged. How does the Illuminati assassin plan to get away with this? How will he get a cardinal through all these wad and kill him in plain view? Langdon checked his Mickey Mouse watch. It was 854 P.M. Six minutes.I n the front seat, Olivetti turned and faced Langdon and Vittoria. I want you two right on top of this Bernini brick or block or any(prenominal) the hell it is. Same drill. Youre tourists. Use the phone if you see anything.Before Langdon could respond, Vittoria had his hand and was pulling him out of the car.The springtime sun was setting behind St. Peters Basilica, and a massive shadow spread, engulfing the piazza. Langdon felt an ominous chill as he and Vittoria moved into the cool, black umbra. Snaking through the crowd, Langdon found himself searching every face they passed, wondering if the killer was among them. Vittorias hand felt warm.As they crossed the open chimneysweep of St. Peters Square, Langdon sensed Berninis sprawling piazza having the exact effect the artist had been commissioned to piddle that of humbling all those who entered. Langdon certainly felt humbled at the moment. Humbled and hungry, he realized, surprised such a routine thought could enter his head at a moment like this.To the obelisk? Vittoria asked.Langdon nodded, arching left across the piazza. cadence? Vittoria asked, walking briskly, but casually.Five of.Vittoria said nothing, but Langdon felt her grip tighten. He was still carrying the gun. He hoped Vittoria would not solve she needed it. He could not imagine her whipping out a weapon in St. Peters Square and blowing away the kneecaps of some killer while the global media looked on. Then again, an incident like that would be nothing compared to the branding and murder of a cardinal out here.Air, Langdon thought. The second element of science. He tried to picture the brand. The method of murder. again he scanned the sprawling expanse of granite beneath his feet St. Peters Square an open desert meet by Swiss Guard. If the Hassassin really dared attempt this, Langdon could not imagine how he would escape.In the center of the piazza rose Caligulas 350-ton Egyptian obelisk. It stretched eighty-one feet skyward to the pyr amidal crest onto which was affixed a hollow agitate cross. Sufficiently high to catch the last of the evening sun, the cross shone as if prank purportedly containing relics of the cross on which deliveryman was crucified.Two fountains flanked the obelisk in perfect symmetry. Art historians knew the fountains marked the exact geometrical focal points of Berninis elliptical piazza, but it was an architectural oddity Langdon had never really considered until today. It seemed Rome was suddenly filled with ellipses, pyramids, and startling geometry.As they neared the obelisk, Vittoria slowed. She exhaled heavily, as if coaxing Langdon to relax along with her. Langdon made the effort, lowering his shoulders and loosening his clinched jaw.Somewhere around the obelisk, boldly positioned outside the largest church in the world, was the second communion table of science Berninis West Ponente an elliptical block in St. Peters Square.Gunther Glick watched from the shadows of the pillars surrounding St. Peters Square. On any other day the man in the ovalbumin jacket and the woman in khaki shorts would not have interested him in the least. They appeared to be nothing but tourists enjoying the square. But today was not any other day. Today had been a day of phone tips, corpses, unmarked cars step on it through Rome, and men in tweed jackets climbing scaffolding in search of God only knew what. Glick would stay with them.He looked out across the square and saw Macri. She was exactly where he had told her to go, on the far side of the couple, hovering on their flank. Macri carried her video camera casually, but despite her imitation of a bored member of the press, she stood out more than Glick would have liked. No other reporters were in this far corner of the square, and the acronym BBC stenciled on her camera was drawing some looks from tourists.The tape Macri had shot earlier of the naked body dumped in the trunk was playing at this very moment on the VCR transmitt er back in the van. Glick knew the images were sailing over his head right now en route to London. He wondered what editorial would say.He wished he and Macri had reached the body sooner, before the army of plainclothed soldiers had intervened. The same army, he knew, had now fan out and surrounded this piazza. Something big was about to happen.The media is the right arm of anarchy, the killer had said. Glick wondered if he had missed his chance for a big scoop. He looked out at the other media vans in the distance and watched Macri tailing the obscure couple across the piazza. Something told Glick he was still in the game