"Our assets?" Olivetti scowled. "What do you mean?"
"One, two, three, four. You haven’t missed them by now?"
"What the hell are you talk—" Olivetti stopped short, his eyes rocketing wide as though he’d just been punched in the gut.
"Light dawns," the caller said. "Shall I read their names?"
"What’s going on?" the camerlegno said, looking bewildered.
The caller laughed. "Your officer has not yet informed you? How sinful. No surprise. Such pride. I imagine the disgrace of telling you the truth… that four cardinals he had sworn to protect seem to have disappeared…"
Olivetti erupted. "Where did you get this information!"
"Camerlegno," the caller gloated, "ask your commander if all your cardinals are present in the Sistine Chapel."
The camerlegno turned to Olivetti, his green eyes demanding an explanation.
"Signore," Olivetti whispered in the camerlegno’s ear, "it is true that four of our cardinals have not yet reported to the Sistine Chapel, but there is no need for alarm. Every one of them checked into the residence hall this morning, so we know they are safely inside Vatican City. You yourself had tea with them only hours ago. They are simply late for the fellowship preceding conclave. We are searching, but I’m sure they just lost track of time and are still out enjoying the grounds."
"Enjoying the grounds?" The calm departed from the camerlegno’s voice. "They were due in the chapel over an hour ago!"
Langdon shot Vittoria a look of amazement. Missing cardinals? So that’s what they were looking for downstairs?
"Our inventory," the caller said, "you will find quite convincing. There is Cardinal Lamassé from Paris, Cardinal Guidera from Barcelona, Cardinal Ebner from Frankfurt…"
Olivetti seemed to shrink smaller and smaller after each name was read.
The caller paused, as though taking special pleasure in the final name. "And from Italy… Cardinal Baggia."
The camerlegno loosened like a tall ship that had just run sheets first into a dead calm. His frock billowed, and he collapsed in his chair. "I preferiti," he whispered. "The four favorites… including Baggia… the most likely successor as Supreme Pontiff… how is it possible?"
Langdon had read enough about modern papal elections to understand the look of desperation on the camerlegno’s face. Although technically any cardinal under eighty years old could become Pope, only a very few had the respect necessary to command a two-thirds majority in the ferociously partisan balloting procedure. They were known as the preferiti. And they were all gone.
Sweat dripped from the camerlegno’s brow. "What do you intend with these men?"
"What do you think I intend? I am a descendant of the Hassassin."
Langdon felt a shiver. He knew the name well. The church had made some deadly enemies through the years—the Hassassin, the Knights Templar, armies that had been either hunted by the Vatican or betrayed by them.
"Let the cardinals go," the camerlegno said. "Isn’t threatening to destroy the City of God enough?"
"Forget your four cardinals. They are lost to you. Be assured their deaths will be remembered though… by millions. Every martyr’s dream. I will make them media luminaries. One by one. By midnight the Illuminati will have everyone’s attention. Why change the world if the world is not watching? Public killings have an intoxicating horror about them, don’t they? You proved that long ago… the inquisition, the torture of the Knights Templar, the Crusades." He paused. "And of course, la purga."
The camerlegno was silent.
"Do you not recall la purga?" the caller asked. "Of course not, you are a child. Priests are poor historians, anyway. Perhaps because their history shames them?"
"La purga," Langdon heard himself say. "Sixteen sixty-eight. The church branded four Illuminati scientists with the symbol of the cross. To purge their sins."
"Who is speaking?" the voice demanded, sounding more intrigued than concerned. "Who else is there?"
Langdon felt shaky. "My name is not important," he said, trying to keep his voice from wavering. Speaking to a living Illuminatus was disorienting for him… like speaking to George Washington. "I am an academic who has studied the history of your brotherhood."
"Superb," the voice replied. "I am pleased there are still those alive who remember the crimes against us."
"Most of us think you are dead."
"A misconception the brotherhood has worked hard to promote. What else do you know of la purga?"
Langdon hesitated. What else do I know? That this whole situation is insanity, that’s what I know! "After the brandings, the scientists were murdered, and their bodies were dropped in public locations around Rome as a warning to other scientists not to join the Illuminati."
"Yes. So we shall do the same. Quid pro quo. Consider it symbolic retribution for our slain brothers. Your four cardinals will die, one every hour starting at eight. By midnight the whole world will be enthralled."
Langdon moved toward the phone. "You actually intend to brand and kill these four men?"
"History repeats itself, does it not? Of course, we will be more elegant and bold than the church was. They killed privately, dropping bodies when no one was looking. It seems so cowardly."
"What are you saying?" Langdon asked. "That you are going to brand and kill these men in public?"
"Very good. Although it depends what you consider public. I realize not many people go to church anymore."
Langdon did a double take. "You’re going to kill them in churches?"
"A gesture of kindness. Enabling God to command their souls to heaven more expeditiously. It seems only right. Of course the press will enjoy it too, I imagine."
"You’re bluffing," Olivetti said, the cool back in his voice. "You cannot kill a man in a church and expect to get away with it."
"Bluffing? We move among your Swiss Guard like ghosts, remove four of your cardinals from within your walls, plant a deadly explosive at the heart of your most sacred shrine, and you think this is a bluff? As the killings occur and the victims are found, the media will swarm. By midnight the world will know the Illuminati cause."
"And if we stake guards in every church?" Olivetti said.
The caller laughed. "I fear the prolific nature of your religion will make that a trying task. Have you not counted lately? There are over four hundred Catholic churches in Rome. Cathedrals, chapels, tabernacles, abbeys, monasteries, convents, parochial schools…"
Olivetti’s face remained hard.
"In ninety minutes it begins," the caller said with a note of finality. "One an hour. A mathematical progression of death. Now I must go."
"Wait!" Langdon demanded. "Tell me about the brands you intend to use on these men."
The killer sounded amused. "I suspect you know what the brands will be already. Or perhaps you are a skeptic? You will see them soon enough. Proof the ancient legends are true."
Langdon felt light-headed. He knew exactly what the man was claiming. Langdon pictured the brand on Leonardo Vetra’s chest. Illuminati folklore spoke of five brands in all. Four brands are left, Langdon thought, and four missing cardinals.
"I am sworn," the camerlegno said, "to bring a new Pope tonight. Sworn by God."
"Camerlegno," the caller said, "the world does not need a new Pope. After midnight he will have nothing to rule over but a pile of rubble. The Catholic Church is finished. Your run on earth is done."