"Brown, Dan - Angels and Demons" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brown Dan)

"No one's reach is that far."
"Very soon, you will believe. An irrefutable demonstration of the brotherhood's power has already
transpired. A single act of treachery and proof."
"What have you done?"
The caller told him.
The killer's eyes went wide. "An impossible task."
The next day, newspapers around the globe carried the same headline. The killer became a believer.
Now, fifteen days later, the killer's faith had solidified beyond the shadow of a doubt. The brotherhood
endures, he thought. Tonight they will surface to reveal their power.
As he made his way through the streets, his black eyes gleamed with foreboding. One of the most covert
and feared fraternities ever to walk the earth had called on him for service. They have chosen wisely, he
thought. His reputation for secrecy was exceeded only by that of his deadliness.
So far, he had served them nobly. He had made his kill and delivered the item to Janus as requested. Now,
it was up to Janus to use his power to ensure the item's placement.
The placement . . .
The killer wondered how Janus could possibly handle such a staggering task. The man obviously had
connections on the inside. The brotherhood's dominion seemed limitless.
Janus, the killer thought. A code name, obviously. Was it a reference, he wondered, to the Roman two-
faced god . . . or to the moon of Saturn? Not that it made any difference. Janus wielded unfathomable
power. He had proven that beyond a doubt.
As the killer walked, he imagined his ancestors smiling down on him. Today he was fighting their battle, he
was fighting the same enemy they had fought for ages, as far back as the eleventh century . . . when the
enemy's crusading armies had first pillaged his land, raping and killing his people, declaring them unclean,
defiling their temples and gods.
His ancestors had formed a small but deadly army to defend themselves. The army became famous across
the land as protectors-skilled executioners who wandered the countryside slaughtering any of the enemy
they could find. They were renowned not only for their brutal killings, but also for celebrating their
slayings by plunging themselves into drug-induced stupors. Their drug of choice was a potent intoxicant
they called hashish.
As their notoriety spread, these lethal men became known by a single word-Hassassin-literally "the
followers of hashish." The name Hassassin became synonymous with death in almost every language on
earth. The word was still used today, even in modern English . . . but like the craft of killing, the word had
evolved.
It was now pronounced assassin.
6
Sixty-four minutes had passed when an incredulous and slightly air-sick Robert Langdon stepped down
the gangplank onto the sun-drenched runway. A crisp breeze rustled the lapels of his tweed jacket. The
open space felt wonderful. He squinted out at the lush green valley rising to snowcapped peaks all around
them.
I'm dreaming, he told himself. Any minute now I'll be waking up.
"Welcome to Switzerland," the pilot said, yelling over the roar of the X-33's misted-fuel HEDM engines
winding down behind them.
Langdon checked his watch. It read 7:07 A.M.
"You just crossed six time zones," the pilot offered. "It's a little past 1 P.M. here."
Langdon reset his watch.
"How do you feel?"
He rubbed his stomach. "Like I've been eating Styrofoam."
The pilot nodded. "Altitude sickness. We were at sixty thousand feet. You're thirty percent lighter up there.
Lucky we only did a puddle jump. If we'd gone to Tokyo I'd have taken her all the way up-a hundred
miles. Now that'll get your insides rolling."