Page 142 of The Secret of Secrets

RL&KSRGUD

His confusion lasted only a moment before he laughed out loud, half from amusement and half from relief.

Only Robert could have written this message.

Langdon and Faukman often commiserated over the decline of written language due to the proliferation of “textese” emoticons and abbreviations. The trend was so distressing to Faukman that he’d written a piece about it for The New Yorker, including one particularly overwrought sentence that Langdon mocked mercilessly.

Faukman had written: To save a single keystroke by typing “gud” instead of “good” is not only indecorous, it is an abomination of indolence.

Still chuckling over Langdon’s message, Faukman was tempted to reply: Your message is not only adroit, it brings propitious consolation.

Chapter 91

Langdon pulled the SUV to a stop and set the emergency brake. He gathered himself before climbing out of the vehicle with Katherine, well aware that he would know momentarily if his plan would lead them to success—or disaster.

The wind on the high ridge had picked up, rustling through the woods beneath them. Langdon paused a moment. He gazed down at the snow-covered expanse that lay beyond the trees—Folimanka Park—which stretched eastward away from the ridgeline. This entire place feels different now, he thought, turning his attention to the building before them.

Crucifix Bastion looked ghostly. The structure stood as a stark silhouette against the darkening afternoon sky. As he strode with Katherine toward the main entrance, Langdon felt a shadow of uncertainty, and he quickly reminded himself what had led him back here.

Rational logic.

The truth had dawned on him at the abandoned swimming pool in the ambassadorial residence. The ambassador had torn up the NDAs, called Finch on speakerphone, and convincingly lied that Finch’s wishes had been carried out. Then, to Langdon’s surprise, Finch had ordered Nagel to send a Marine security detail up to Crucifix Bastion to secure the perimeter. Finch’s priority is to secure an isolated Czech lab? Why?

As Langdon considered it, a second thought occurred. Earlier today, Janáček had told Langdon that Prague’s surveillance system could not confirm that Katherine had arrived at the bastion, because—much to the captain’s chagrin—the all-seeing camera system appeared to be hampered by an unprecedented blind spot that blacked out the area around Gessner’s lab.

Prague’s camera system is the Echelon surveillance network…run by the CIA.

Now the wheels were turning, and Langdon found himself questioning the statistical improbability of Gessner’s private lab being perched on a ridge directly overlooking Threshold—the secret project that employed her.

Unless they’re somehow connected…

The rationale for hiding a covert intelligence facility beneath Folimanka Park made sense to Langdon—natural camouflage, access to supplies, existing infrastructure—and yet he was having trouble accepting that Threshold was built with a sole access point…only one way in or out. The design would be a death trap in a fire or emergency, which seemed an incongruous risk for an agency built on strategy, contingency, and planning ahead.

Even the Vatican has secret escape routes!

It was then that the ambassador revealed an unexpected twist: The entity that had quietly acquired the bastion on behalf of Gessner was none other than Q. The investment firm had offered Gessner the building as part of the neuroscientist’s recruitment package to the CIA, luring her in with the irresistible cachet of running her institute from such a unique and historic location.

That’s not the real reason, Langdon surmised, sharing his growing suspicion that Finch had secured the bastion not as enticement for Gessner…but rather as something far more valuable.

Another access for Threshold.

Most medieval bastions included a unique architectural feature known as a poterne. From the Latin “posterior”—a poterne was a literal “back door”—a secret passageway used for emergency escapes.

The ancient Estonian bastion in Tallinn, he told them, had a poterne carved four stories underground that stretched more than a mile away to the basement of a nearby monastery. The Slovenian mountaintop castle Predjama was rumored to have a six-story vertical shaft with a rudimentary pulley system “elevator” for restocking supplies, livestock, and troops.

Crucifix Bastion, Langdon thought, was likely to have a poterne too. And considering the recent construction in Folimanka Park and the vast scope of the Threshold project, it made logical sense that a vertical shaft might exist beneath the bastion.

Earlier, in the SUV, Langdon had quickly shown Katherine and Nagel on a map that a modern-day poterne—whether it existed previously or was drilled recently by construction crews—would descend directly to the edges of Folimanka Park and could potentially extend to the walls of the existing bomb shelter.

The location of the bastion could not have been more perfect. Remote and discreet, Gessner’s lab offered a flawless cover story—plausible deniability for any personnel who came and went: they were simply working at the Gessner Institute.

Let’s hope I’m right, Langdon now thought as he guided Katherine toward the bastion’s shattered entrance.

This is a science lab?

Katherine Solomon could scarcely believe her eyes as she followed Langdon down the luxurious, pink marble hallway into a lavish atrium with sumptuous couches, striking art, and floor-to-ceiling windows looking out at the skyline of Prague.

Maybe I should work for the CIA, she thought, estimating that Gessner’s “waiting room” could have housed the entire IONS staff.