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Prologue

           

           ThemanwasnowtakingdeadaimatSaunière’shead.

           Saunièreclosedhiseyes,histhoughtsaswirlingtempestoffearandregret.Theclickofanemptychamberechoedthroughthecorridor.Thecurator’seyesflewopen.

           Themanglanceddownathisweapon,lookingalmostamused.Hereachedforasecondclip,butthenseemedtoreconsider,smirkingcalmlyatSaunière’sgut.«Myworkhereisdone.»

           Thecuratorlookeddownandsawthebulletholeinhiswhitelinenshirt.Itwasframedbyasmallcircleofbloodafewinchesbelowhisbreastbone.Mystomach.Almostcruelly,thebullethadmissedhisheart.AsaveteranoflaGuerred’Algérie,thecuratorhadwitnessedthishorriblydrawn-outdeathbefore.Forfifteenminutes,hewouldsurviveashisstomachacidsseepedintohischestcavity,slowlypoisoninghimfromwithin.

           «Painisgood,monsieur,»themansaid.Thenhewasgone.Alonenow,JacquesSaunièreturnedhisgazeagaintotheirongate.Hewastrapped,andthedoorscouldnotbereopenedforatleasttwentyminutes.Bythetimeanyonegottohim,hewouldbedead.Evenso,thefearthatnowgrippedhimwasafearfargreaterthanthatofhisowndeath.

           Imustpassonthesecret.

           Staggeringtohisfeet,hepicturedhisthreemurderedbrethren.Hethoughtofthegenerationswhohadcomebeforethem…ofthemissionwithwhichtheyhadallbeenentrusted.

           Anunbrokenchainofknowledge.

           Suddenly,now,despitealltheprecautions…despiteallthefail-safes…JacquesSaunièrewastheonlyremaininglink,thesoleguardianofoneofthemostpowerfulsecretseverkept

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