INT VATICAN ARCHIVES NIGHT

CLOSE ON the Bernini ledger, which Langdon is now almost halfway

through. He tiyrns a page, scans the list of items written

there, then moves on to the next.

He blinks, his vision blurring again. He looks over at Chartrand,

who's suffering even worse, panting for air, hands on his knees.

LANGDON

You don't smoke, do you?

CHARTRAND

(yes, a lot)

A little bit.

LANGDON

Sit down before you fall down.

66.

Chartrand half-stumbles into a chair on the opposite side of the

table. Langdon goes back to what he was doing, flipping a page--

--- and then immediately flipping it back.

There is a hand-written notation alongside one of the entries.

LANGDON (cont'd)

My Italian's no good, what does this

note say? Next to the entry for The

Ecstasy of St. Teresa?

Chartrand leans over the ledger, squinting hard, trying to focus.

CHARTRAND

"Moved at suggestion of the artist."

LANGDON

Moved to another church? At

Bernini"s suggestion?

Chartrand, really suffering for air, can't follow it.

CHARTRAND

I don't know.

Langdon flips the page back, to a photograph of the sculpture in

question.

THE STATUE

is of a woman, seemingly in the throes of ecstasy, while an angel

hovering over her holds a spear aloft.

Langdon raises an eyebrow.

The word "Seraphim" jumps up from the page, words in quotes after

it -- "Seraphim, meaning 'the fiery one...'"

LANGDON

Fire.

More words pop out at us -- "His great golden spear... filled with

fire..."

LANGDON (cont'd)

Fire.

Still more -- "woman inflamed by passion's fire..."

And now a close-up of her enraptured face.

67.

LANGDON

Fire.

And now three things happen in quick succession:

-- Langdon SLAMS the ledger shut,

-- the ribbons on the air vent fall as the oxygen into the vault is

cut off, and

-- one by one, ALL THE LIGHTS IN THE ARCHIVES GO OUT.

Total silence for a moment.

Langdon and Chartrand look at each other in the darkness.

LANGDON (cont'd)

The door -- ?

CHARTRAND

Electronic.

LANGDON

That's too bad.

CUT TO:

INT ST. PETER'S BASILICA NIGHT

The Camerlengo, flanked by two Swiss Guardsmen, escorts Vittoria

rapidly across the deserted floor of St. Peter's Basilica.

VITTORIA

Where are we going?

CAMERLENGO

To see my father.

VITTORIA

I don't understand.

They circle past a pillar and she sees an orange glow up ahead,

seeming to emanate from beneath the floor in the center of the

basilica.

CAMERLENGO

I was orphaned when I was nine years

old. A bombing in Madrid -- Basque

separatists protesting the visit of a

Catholic archbishop.

As they draw closer, she sees it's the entrance to a sumptuous

underground chamber, surrounded by scores of glowing oil lamps.

68.

CAMERLENGO (cont'd)

The archbishop felt responsible, and

he adopted me the following day. I

was raised by him, and by the church.

The Camerlengo starts down a winding stairway, rimmed by the

lamps,

ON THE STAIRCASE,

they descend, lit by the spectral glow of the oil lamps.

CAMERLENGO (cont'd)

He was the wisest man I ever met, even

with my youthful foolishness. He

always saw the middle way. I wanted

to be ordained, but I also refused to

be excused from military service.

So he suggested I fly rescue missions,

helicopters bringing the wounded to

hospital.

He stops at the bottom of the stairs and looks up at her.

CAMERLENGO (cont'd)

He was a great man.

VITTORIA

He died?

CAMERLENGO

(NODS)

Fourteen days ago.

Vittoria, stunned, realizes who he's talking about.

CUT TO:

Date: 2015-12-18; view: 614