Page 126 of The Secret of Secrets

“Yes, my team collected the only remains—there’re a few charred scraps. I’ll send photos.”

“And you say the author burned it herself?”

“It is my understanding that both Langdon and Solomon burned the manuscript because they felt they were in danger from a rogue ÚZSI agent…and also, obviously, from you.”

“It was a gutsy choice,” the man mused. “I’ll believe it when I look them in the eyes. If that manuscript is truly gone…and they both signed NDAs…then we may be very close to ending this.”

“I hope so.”

“And Crucifix Bastion?” the man asked. “You’re confident ÚZSI has agreed to stand down? I don’t want anyone near Gessner’s lab or her work.”

“Confirmed. Nobody is up there now.”

“Good,” he said, sounding relieved. “I want you to send a Marine security detail up there immediately. Obviously, my main concern is our primary facility—but we can’t afford any leaks at the bastion either. Have your team secure it, and I’ll go up in person to assess after our meeting at your residence.”

“Understood,” Nagel replied. “I’ll send a team up right away.”

“See you shortly,” he said.

The line went dead.

In the silence, the ambassador double-checked that the call was indeed ended, and then she raised her eyes to Langdon and Katherine and let out a weary sigh.

“What in the world just happened?!” Katherine demanded.

The ambassador glanced overhead at the ceiling vents and, apparently not wanting to risk being overheard, led Langdon and Katherine into the pool’s utility room, where a single bulb illuminated two antique, cast-iron water boilers, which, despite nearly a century of nonuse, still smelled of coal.

“The first thing you should know,” the ambassador said quietly, closing the door behind them, “is the man I just spoke to works for the Central Intelligence Agency.”

Langdon stepped back, feigning surprise despite having been warned by Jonas. “I’m sorry?”

Nagel nodded. “His name is Everett Finch, and he used to run the agency’s Directorate of Science and Technology.” She paused. “I should add that I also worked for the CIA. I was an attorney.”

And there it is, Langdon thought, not sure whether he was relieved or unsettled that the ambassador had simply laid it out.

Nagel now confirmed what Faukman had told Langdon on the phone—the CIA quietly ran a venture capital firm named In-Q-Tel, Q for short, which invested in national security technologies and protected their investments aggressively.

“The CIA runs an investment bank?” Katherine asked.

“More for patriotism than profit,” Nagel explained. “U.S. intelligence budgets have been slashed in recent years, and the CIA functions under an oath to defend the nation from all enemies—including the shortsightedness of our own Pollyanna politicians—and so the agency feels morally empowered, if not obligated, to find outside funding to facilitate important CIA programs that otherwise could not exist.”

As Langdon listened, he realized that a project funded with Q money would bypass all traditional congressional oversight associated with a black-budget allocation, meaning the CIA could essentially do whatever it wanted and answer to no one.

“A few years ago, the CIA director transferred Everett Finch to London and assigned him an off-book posting in Q’s European headquarters. His duties are confidential, but he seems to have been given carte blanche, and as you’ve no doubt figured out, Finch is gravely concerned about Katherine’s manuscript.”

“Why?” Katherine pressed.

“All I know,” Nagel replied, “is Finch considers your manuscript a threat to one of Q’s most important investments. For this reason, it is deemed a matter of national security, which affords Finch dangerous latitude in how he chooses to deal with you.”

Langdon felt increasingly trapped down here in the windowless basement.

“But how is it a threat?!” Katherine pressed. “I’ve been trying to imagine how anything I’ve writ—”

“I don’t know. I have no specifics. Only orders—to force you to sign an NDA.”

“But if the CIA thinks my book is a national security risk,” Katherine said, “then why not just call my publisher, cite national security, and demand I remove the dangerous material?”

“As former CIA counsel,” Nagel replied, “I can tell you that isolating specific passages reveals too much about the CIA’s concerns. It would shine a light on precisely what they are trying to keep secret. Moreover, your publisher could simply refuse the CIA’s request and publish the full text under the banner: Read the book the CIA doesn’t want you to read…”