Chapter 4

           RobertLangdon’sSaab900StoreoutoftheCallahanTunnelandemergedontheeastsideofBostonHarborneartheentrancetoLoganAirport.CheckinghisdirectionsLangdonfoundAviationRoadandturnedleftpasttheoldEasternAirlinesBuilding.Threehundredyardsdowntheaccessroadahangarloomedinthedarkness.Alargenumber4waspaintedonit.Hepulledintotheparkinglotandgotoutofhiscar.

           Around-facedmaninablueflightsuitemergedfrombehindthebuilding."RobertLangdon?"hecalled.Theman’svoicewasfriendly.HehadanaccentLangdoncouldn’tplace.

           "That’sme,"Langdonsaid,lockinghiscar.

           "Perfecttiming,"themansaid."I’vejustlanded.Followme,please."

           Astheycircledthebuilding,Langdonfelttense.Hewasnotaccustomedtocrypticphonecallsandsecretrendezvouswithstrangers.Notknowingwhattoexpecthehaddonnedhisusualclassroomattire—apairofchinos,aturtleneck,andaHarristweedsuitjacket.Astheywalked,hethoughtaboutthefaxinhisjacketpocket,stillunabletobelievetheimageitdepicted.

           ThepilotseemedtosenseLangdon’sanxiety."Flying’snotaproblemforyou,isit,sir?"

           "Notatall,"Langdonreplied.Brandedcorpsesareaproblemforme.FlyingIcanhandle.

           ThemanledLangdonthelengthofthehangar.Theyroundedthecornerontotherunway.

           Langdonstoppeddeadinhistracksandgapedattheaircraftparkedonthetarmac."We’reridinginthat?"

           Themangrinned."Likeit?"

           Langdonstaredalongmoment."Likeit?Whatthehellisit?"

           Thecraftbeforethemwasenormous.