Page 130 of The Lost Symbol

Franklin Square

Call for missing piece. Mal’akh now understood Bellamy’s meaning.

The Architect of the Capitol had been cooperative all night, but now he had chosen to play a very dangerous game.

CHAPTER 92

Beneath the watchful gaze of several armed CIA agents, Langdon, Katherine, and Bellamy waited with Sato in the Cathedral College sitting room. On the coffee table before them, Langdon’s leather bag was still open, the golden capstone peeking out the top. The words Eight Franklin Square had now faded away, leaving no evidence that they had ever existed.

Katherine had pleaded with Sato to let her go see her brother, but Sato had simply shaken her head, eyes fixed on Bellamy’s cell phone. It sat on the coffee table and had yet to ring.

Why didn’t Bellamy just tell me the truth? Langdon wondered. Apparently, the Architect had been in contact with Peter’s captor all night, reassuring him that Langdon was making progress deciphering the pyramid. It was a bluff, an attempt to buy time for Peter. In fact, Bellamy was doing all he could to interfere with anyone who threatened to unveil the pyramid’s secret. Now, however, it seemed that Bellamy had switched sides. He and Sato were now prepared to risk the pyramid’s secret in hopes of catching this man.

“Take your hands off me!” shouted an elderly voice in the hall. “I’m blind, not inept! I know my way through the college!” Dean Galloway was still protesting loudly as a CIA agent manhandled him into the sitting room and forced him into one of the chairs.

“Who’s here?” Galloway demanded, his blank eyes staring dead ahead. “It sounds like a lot of you. How many do you need to detain an old man? Really now!”

“There are seven of us,” Sato declared. “Including Robert Langdon, Katherine Solomon, and your Masonic brother Warren Bellamy.”

Galloway slumped, all his bluster gone.

“We’re okay,” Langdon said. “And we just heard that Peter is safe. He’s in bad shape, but the police are with him.”

“Thank heavens,” Galloway said. “And the—”

A loud rattling caused everyone in the room to jump. It was Bellamy’s cell phone vibrating against the coffee table. Everyone fell silent.

“Okay, Mr. Bellamy,” Sato said. “Don’t blow it. You know the stakes.”

Bellamy took a deep breath and exhaled. Then he reached down and pressed the speakerphone button to connect the call.

“Bellamy here,” he said, speaking loudly toward the phone on the coffee table.

The voice that crackled back through the speaker was familiar, an airy whisper. It sounded like he was calling from a hands-free speakerphone inside a car. “It’s past midnight, Mr. Bellamy. I was about to put Peter out of his misery.”

There was an uneasy silence in the room. “Let me talk to him.”

“Impossible,” the man replied. “We’re driving. He’s tied up in the trunk.”

Langdon and Katherine exchanged looks and then began shaking their heads at everyone. He’s bluffing! He no longer has Peter!

Sato motioned for Bellamy to keep pressing.

“I want proof that Peter’s alive,” Bellamy said. “I’m not giving you the rest of—”

“Your Worshipful Master needs a doctor. Don’t waste time with negotiations. Tell me the street number on Franklin Square, and I’ll bring Peter to you there.”

“I told you, I want—”

“Now!” the man exploded. “Or I will pull over and Peter Solomon dies this instant!”

“You listen to me,” Bellamy said forcefully. “If you want the rest of the address, you’ll play by my rules. Meet me at Franklin Square. Once you deliver Peter alive, I’ll tell you the number of the building.”

“How do I know you won’t bring the authorities?”

“Because I can’t risk double-crossing you. Peter’s life is not the only card you hold. I know what’s really at stake tonight.”

“You do realize,” the man on the phone said, “that if I sense so much as a hint of anyone other than you at Franklin Square, I will keep driving, and you will never find even a trace of Peter Solomon. And of course . . . that will be the least of your worries.”