Inferno (Page 142)

I’m not alone out here.

In slow motion, Langdon turned toward the wall where the boardwalk dead-ended. Ten feet away, shrouded in dark shadows, he was able to discern a rounded form, like a large stone cloaked in black cloth, dripping in a pool of water. The form was motionless.

And then it moved.

The form elongated, its featureless head rotating upward from its bowed position.

A person huddled in a black burka, Langdon realized.

The traditional Islamic body covering left no skin showing, but as the veiled head turned toward Langdon, two dark eyes materialized, staring out through the narrow slit of the burka’s face covering, locking intently on Langdon.

In an instant, he knew.

Sienna Brooks exploded from her hiding place. She accelerated to a sprint in a single stride, plowing into Langdon and driving him to the ground as she raced off down the boardwalk.

CHAPTER 93

Out in the lagoon, Agent Brüder had stopped in his tracks. The halogen beam of his Tovatec penlight had just picked up the sharp glint of metal up ahead on the submerged cistern floor.

Barely breathing, Brüder took a delicate step closer, cautious not to create any turbulence in the water. Through the glassy surface, he could now make out a sleek rectangle of titanium, bolted to the floor.

Zobrist’s plaque.

The water was so clear he could almost read tomorrow’s date and accompanying text:

IN THIS PLACE, ON THIS DATE, THE WORLD WAS CHANGED FOREVER.

Think again, Brüder mused, his confidence rising. We have several hours to stop this before tomorrow.

Picturing Zobrist’s video, Brüder gently inched the flashlight beam to the left of the plaque, searching for the tethered Solublon bag. As the beam illuminated the darkened water, Brüder strained his gaze in confusion.

No bag.

He moved the beam farther to the left, to the precise spot where the bag had appeared on the video.

Still nothing.

But … it was right here!

Brüder’s jaw clenched as he took another tentative step closer, sweeping the beam slowly around the entire area.

There was no bag. Only the plaque.

For a brief, hopeful instant, Brüder wondered if perhaps this threat, like so many things today, had been nothing but an illusion.

Was it all a hoax?!

Did Zobrist just want to scare us?!

And then he saw it.

To the left of the plaque, barely visible on the lagoon floor, lay a limp tether. The flaccid string looked like a lifeless worm in the water. At the far end of the string was a tiny plastic clasp, from which hung a few tatters of Solublon plastic.

Brüder stared down at the frayed relic of the transparent bag. It clung to the end of the tether like the tattered knot of a popped party balloon.

The truth settled slowly in his gut.

We’re too late.

He pictured the submerged bag dissolving and breaking apart … its deadly contents spreading out into the water … and bubbling up to the surface of the lagoon.

With a tremulous finger, he flicked off his flashlight and stood a moment in the darkness, trying to gather his thoughts.

Those thoughts turned quickly to prayer.

God help us all.

“Agent Brüder, repeat!” Sinskey shouted into her radio, descending halfway down the stairwell into the cistern, trying to get better reception. “I didn’t copy that!”

The warm wind rushed past her, up the stairs toward the open doorway above. Outside, the SRS team had arrived and its members were prepping behind the building in an effort to keep their hazmat gear out of sight while they waited to receive Brüder’s assessment.

“… ruptured bag …” Brüder’s voice crackled in Sinskey’s comm. “… and … released.”

What?! Sinskey prayed she was misunderstanding as she rushed farther down the stairs. “Repeat!” she commanded, nearing the base of the stairwell, where the orchestral music grew louder.

Brüder’s voice was much clearer this time. “… and I repeat … the contagion has been dispersed!”

Sinskey lurched forward, nearly falling into the cistern’s entryway at the base of the stairwell. How can that be?!

“The bag has dissolved,” Brüder’s voice snapped loudly. “The contagion is in the water!”

A cold sweat gripped Dr. Sinskey as she raised her eyes and tried to process the sprawling underground world now spread out before her. Through the reddish haze, she saw a vast expanse of water from which sprang hundreds of columns. Most of all, however, she saw people.

Hundreds of people.

Sinskey stared out at the unsuspecting crowd, all of them confined in Zobrist’s underground death trap. She reacted on instinct. “Agent Brüder, come up at once. We’ll begin evacuating people immediately.”

Brüder’s reply was instantaneous. “Absolutely not! Seal the doors! Nobody gets out of here!”

As director of the World Health Organization, Elizabeth Sinskey was accustomed to having her orders followed without question. For an instant, she thought she had misunderstood the lead SRS agent’s words. Seal the doors?!

“Dr. Sinskey!” Brüder shouted over the music. “Do you read me?! Close the goddamn doors!”

Brüder repeated the command, but it was unnecessary. Sinskey knew he was correct. In the face of a possible pandemic, containment was the only viable option.

Sinskey reflexively reached up and gripped her lapis lazuli amulet. Sacrifice the few to save the many. With a hardening resolve, she raised the radio to her lips. “Confirmed, Agent Brüder. I’ll give the order to seal the doors.”