Page 145 of The Secret of Secrets

The letter was handwritten, unsigned, and contained only two lines. Nagel had read it several times now, disoriented by its contents. She had fully expected the killer’s letter would be dark and threatening, and she had braced herself. But the note was short and oddly restrained. Almost polite.

Please help Sasha.

https://youtu.be/​pnAFQtzAwMM

That’s it? He wants me to help Sasha?

Puzzled, the ambassador reached for her computer keyboard and began typing the URL the killer had sent. Had the file been on a USB or attached to an email, Nagel would have known better than to open it on an embassy machine, but a public link was safe enough.

When the YouTube window opened, Nagel saw what appeared to be an amateur video made from a cell phone propped beside some kind of long, low-slung container that reminded her of the hard-shell “transport caskets” used by the military to fly bodies home. The body inside this container, however, was very much alive, struggling against the Velcro straps that restrained her. The woman was petite, stylishly dressed, with pale skin and dark hair pulled back tightly.

My God…Dr. Brigita Gessner, the ambassador knew at once, recoiling as she remembered Langdon’s description of finding Gessner’s corpse. She suddenly feared she was about to witness Gessner’s final moments of life. Is this a snuff film?!

The question was answered a moment later as Gessner’s attacker moved into frame. The hooded figure was cloaked in black, and as his face came into view, Nagel physically backed away from the screen. The man had a thick layer of earthen clay covering his face, and on his forehead were etched three Hebrew letters.

Nagel was quite familiar with the history of Prague, and she had no doubt what this was. He’s dressed as the golem? With growing horror, she watched what came next—a brutal interrogation involving IV lines and some kind of medical process Nagel had never seen before. The pain inflicted was appalling, but the information revealed—Gessner’s detailed confession—left Nagel reeling.

As the video reached its grisly conclusion, Ambassador Nagel closed her eyes. She breathed deeply, struggling to absorb all she had just learned. There were many aspects of Gessner’s confession that Nagel didn’t understand, but one thing was alarmingly clear. The classified project Nagel had blindly helped facilitate was now in danger of being made public, and the fallout would be catastrophic. What she had just heard about the program sickened her, and she could only imagine how the rest of the world would react.

Fearfully, Nagel reached for her phone.

The time had come to make a very dangerous call.

A call I should have made years ago.

Submerged, somewhere in an endless void of blackness, Sasha Vesna strained to get her bearings. This world was foreign to her.

Where am I?!

Sasha was no stranger to disorientation and feeling detached from her body, but those periods were always accompanied by complete darkness. No light, no shadows, no visual stimulus at all.

But I see light…

Definitely light. Dim, soft, distant.

Who brought me here?

In her groggy state, she could recall nothing of how she had come to this place. She could feel she was lying on her back, and she tried to sit up, but she felt pinned by an immovable weight.

Am I restrained? Or paralyzed?

With rising panic, Sasha struggled to locate herself…but the effort only fatigued her, and the light began to fade. An undertow was already churning beneath her, eroding the physical world that constrained her. Then, with an overwhelming force, the tide rose up, cresting over her like a wave, and plunged her back into total darkness.

Chapter 93

Deep down within Threshold, The Golěm felt like a ghost of himself.

His body was still in shock.

Literally.

Minutes ago, having reached the most innermost chamber of this subterranean facility, he had been overwhelmed with emotion. He felt a familiar tingling in his temple. The Ether was gathering…moving in quickly…threatening to swallow him whole. Instinctively, The Golěm had slid his hand into his cloak pocket to retrieve his metal wand, but he realized in a moment of distress that the wand was missing. He emptied his pockets on the floor, sorting through all the items that fell out.

The wand is gone…I lost it while struggling with the woman upstairs.

The Golěm knew he was now at the mercy of his condition, with no choice but to accept the impending seizure. He prepared as best he could, taking hasty precautions, finding a safe place to lie down to prevent a fall.

The convulsions had hit him hard, knocking him unconscious.