Chapter 116

           

           Itwas11:39P.M.whenLangdonsteppedwiththeothersfromSt.Peter’sBasilica.Theglarethathithiseyeswassearing.Themedialightsshoneoffthewhitemarblelikesunlightoffasnowytundra.Langdonsquinted,tryingtofindrefugebehindthefaçade’senormouscolumns,butthelightcamefromalldirections.Infrontofhim,acollageofmassivevideoscreensroseabovethecrowd.

           Standingthereatopthemagnificentstairsthatspilleddowntothepiazzabelow,Langdonfeltlikeareluctantplayerontheworld’sbiggeststage.Somewherebeyondtheglaringlights,Langdonheardanidlinghelicopterandtheroarofahundredthousandvoices.Totheirleft,aprocessionofcardinalswasnowevacuatingontothesquare.Theyallstoppedinapparentdistresstoseethescenenowunfoldingonthestaircase.

           "Carefulnow,"Chartrandurged,soundingfocusedasthegroupbegandescendingthestairstowardthehelicopter.

           Langdonfeltliketheyweremovingunderwater.Hisarmsachedfromtheweightofthecamerlegnoandthetable.Hewonderedhowthemomentcouldgetmuchlessdignified.Thenhesawtheanswer.ThetwoBBCreportershadapparentlybeencrossingtheopensquareontheirwaybacktothepressarea.Butnow,withtheroarofthecrowd,theyhadturned.GlickandMacriwerenowrunningbacktowardthem.Macri’scamerawasraisedandrolling.Herecomethevultures,Langdonthought.

           "Alt!"Chartrandyelled."Getback!"

           Butthereporterskeptcoming.LangdonguessedtheothernetworkswouldtakeaboutsixsecondstopickupthisliveBBCfeedagain.Hewaswrong.Theytooktwo.

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