Page 70 of The Secret of Secrets

Sasha thought for a moment and then nodded. “Okay, but this you should take.” She walked to a hook on the wall and removed a plastic key ring with a single key. “My spare key. If you and Katherine need a safe place to go or hide, come here. I don’t know what Michael will suggest we do, so we might not be here when you come, but at least you’ll have a way in.”

“Thank you,” Langdon said, doubting he would be back. Nonetheless, he accepted her generosity, noting that her key ring was a plastic cutout of a spread-eagle cat, with the words “Krazy Kitten.” He slipped it into his pocket. “I’ll find a phone and call you as soon as I know what’s happening.”

“You’ll need my number.”

“I have Michael’s cell.”

She looked surprised. “He gave you his private line?”

“I saw you dial it in the car,” Langdon said.

“And you remember it?”

“Weird brain,” Langdon said. “I don’t forget things.”

“That must be nice,” she said. “I have the opposite problem. I can’t remember things. Memories get muddled…lots of blanks.”

“From the epilepsy?”

“Yes, but Brigita was working with me on that…”

Langdon gave a comforting smile. “It sounds like Dr. Gessner was very good to you.”

“She saved my life.” Sasha looked melancholy. “I hope I don’t forget her too.”

“You won’t,” Langdon assured her, reaching for the door. “And trust me, remembering everything is not always a blessing.”

Chapter 44

From the moment Jonas Faukman had been thrown into this van, he had tried to manage his fear with a feigned flippancy, but it was becoming difficult to maintain in the face of the foreboding sense that he was about to be abducted to Prague. The roaring jet engine nearby, combined with losing all feeling in his hands, left him on the verge of panic.

“I’ll tell the pilots we’re ready,” Buzzcut said to his partner. “Then we’ll load him up.” He opened the slider and stepped out, leaving the door wide open as he departed, apparently to punish Faukman for his insolence.

“It’s freezing…” Faukman said to the other man.

No reply.

The whine of jets was much louder now, and Faukman finally had a view of his surroundings. The van was parked on a wooded service road of some sort, behind a white building that was no more than a couple of hundred yards away. Faukman had imagined he was on a secret air base about to board a military transport, but the illuminated marquis on the building told a much different story.

Signature Aviation / Teterboro

Holy shit. I’m in Jersey?!

Signature was a popular private jet terminal at New Jersey’s Teterboro Airport. Only twenty minutes from Manhattan, the luxurious FBO was a hub for wealthy Manhattanites to jump onto their private planes bound for business trips or secluded vacation homes on the slopes of Aspen or the beaches of West Palm.

For an instant, Faukman felt relief that he was not on a military base, but then, as the truth started to settle, he wondered if this might be even worse. At least the military had certain protocols, and Faukman was a U.S. civilian. If these thugs were actually mercenaries working for a rich, international whoever-the-hell-it was, there were no rules of engagement.

They could fly me out of the country…and nobody would even know I was gone!

As a fresh blast of winter wind swirled through the van, the guy in front set down his laptop and climbed back between the seats, then pulled the slider shut. “You’re right, buddy, it’s cold.”

The man had softer features than Buzzcut, of mixed Asian descent, and like his partner, he had a clean-cut military air about him. “How are the hands?” he asked.

“Honestly, if this goes on much longer, I think I may lose them.”

“Let me have a look.” The man maneuvered in behind Faukman and examined his hands. “Yeah. That’s not good.” He pulled out an army knife. “Just stay still. I’m going to cut you free and attach a slightly looser tie, okay?”

Faukman nodded, his thoughts still spinning over what he had just seen outside.