Page 56 of The Secret of Secrets

Of course, Langdon realized. Politics is perception. Considering the growing U.S.-Russian hostility, an embassy official spending time with a Russian lab assistant would certainly raise eyebrows.

“Regardless, we can’t go to the embassy from here,” she said. “It’s far too dangerous. ÚZSI will have it staked out, searching every car that approaches. We should text Michael and have him collect us at my apartment in an official embassy vehicle. It will be far safer.”

It occurred to Langdon that for a woman who had just suffered a major seizure, Sasha Vesna was thinking more clearly than he was. To her apartment then, he thought, grateful for her help and hoping he would be able to make contact with Katherine shortly. “Is there any way out of here other than through the front door?”

“No, that’s the only way out,” Sasha said, grabbing Pavel’s gun from the sink and putting it into her bag.

“Hold on,” Langdon said, alarmed. “I’m not sure stealing an ÚZSI weapon—”

“I’m not going to use it, but this agent will be conscious in a minute, and if he decides to come after us, I’d prefer he didn’t have a gun.”

Hard to argue with that, Langdon thought. Pavel was already groaning and starting to twitch.

Sasha retrieved her magenta water bottle, which had been squashed by Pavel’s boots in the struggle. She looked wistfully at the handwritten Russian text. “Brigita gave me this,” she said as they started down the hall. “To remind me to stay hydrated. I always forget. It says, Drink Water.”

Sasha set the bottle just inside her office and led Langdon to the staircase, where they climbed in silence to the upper landing. He hoped Janáček was not waiting in the foyer. At the top, they reached the security door, which Langdon half expected to find blown off its hinges.

It was not.

Cautiously, Sasha peered out through the tiny window. Apparently seeing nothing, she pushed open the door and looked around. Motioning for Langdon to follow, she led the way out into the freezing-cold foyer, which was deserted. As the stairwell door closed behind them, the security panel beeped contentedly and turned red.

Crunching across shattered glass, Langdon and Sasha exited the building onto the walkway. All was quiet. Janáček’s sedan was still parked in front, but the captain was nowhere to be seen.

Sasha thought a moment. “Follow me.”

She led Langdon to the right, away from the bastion, arriving at an opening in the retaining wall. From there, they descended a stone staircase that deposited them on a wooded slope. This portion of the ridge was far less steep than the precipice surrounding the bastion’s courtyard, and yet the snow underfoot was slippery, and he was already having trouble getting traction in his slick-soled shoes.

Langdon’s attire this morning—a Dale sweater and campus loafers—had been in anticipation of a visit to a science lab…not an escape down a mountain. As Langdon began to fumble his way through the trees, he set his sights on reaching the bottom unscathed. This embankment, he now realized, descended directly to Folimanka Park.

And from there, he hoped, a taxi to Sasha’s apartment.

From where The Golěm was located, he had a perfect view of the American professor slipping awkwardly down the wooded slope toward Folimanka Park. Robert Langdon’s unanticipated presence at the bastion this morning, along with that of ÚZSI, was one of numerous wrinkles in The Golěm’s plan.

His plan for entering Threshold would need to be slightly delayed, and yet a fresh opportunity had just presented itself.

An opportunity I have no intention of squandering.

Carefully, The Golěm descended the slippery ridge, confident that neither Langdon nor Sasha had any idea he was there.

Chapter 35

The lobby of the Four Seasons smelled like roses.

Just like the roses Michael used to bring me, thought Dana Daněk as she marched toward the reception desk. She had already searched the hotel lobby and restaurant, but Michael and his pretty little friend were nowhere to be seen.

Upstairs…

As Dana approached the man behind the reception desk, she forced a smile and handed him her U.S. embassy ID. “Good morning, sir,” she said sweetly. “I’m sorry to trouble you. I’m with the U.S. embassy here in Prague and my boss, Michael Harris, is in your hotel at the moment. He asked me to deliver something to him urgently. Perhaps you saw him enter about fifteen minutes ago? He’s a tall African American gentleman with—”

“Yes, of course,” the man said, handing back her ID. “Mr. Harris is upstairs in the Royal Suite. Would you like me to deliver something to him?”

“No, thank you,” she said. “It’s a sensitive diplomatic paper that I’m required to hand-deliver personally. Remind me, which number is the Royal Suite?”

The concierge gave her directions to the back of the hotel, and a minute later Dana had climbed a private staircase and was standing in a foyer outside the hotel’s most expensive room.

Seriously, Michael? The Royal Suite?!

Dana knocked softly and called out, “Úklid! Housekeeping!”