The Washington Crypt

Disclaimer: Any facts about any of the societies in this story that can be considered not exactly true is my own lack of knowledge, nothing else. I own every character in this story besides Robert Langdon, Sophie Neveu, and the references to actual people.

(Each section of the story will contain four separate chapters, so that there aren't over a hundred chapter pages here.)

Prologue

The middle-aged woman ran through the hallway of the theater, listening to her own heart beat faster than it ever had been. Her many years of loyalty and secrecy were about to come to a dramatic end.

Her pursuer was catching up to her by the second, holding an antique gun carrying a single .50 caliber bullet. He screamed, "Keep running! Keep running! This place isn't that big!"

Cristina Bickley ran faster and faster as the man kept gaining on her. She knew that he knew exactly what he wasn't supposed to know. She also knew that if this man was successful in his mission, modern society as people knew it would come to an end.

The black-suited man chased her down as she opened a door onto a balcony. He aimed at her shoulder and shot it with his single bullet. Cristina fell down and grabbed her shoulder as blood seeped out and the bullet pierced farther. The man walked over to Cristina, and grabbed an object out of her hand.

"How dare you! Do you know what that is? I guarantee, this will not go unavenged!"

"You talk about vengeance. Is vengeance going to bring your son back to you?"

Bickley nearly stopped as she realized that the death of her son Larry was not an accident, as was reported to her only days ago.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing in particular. But this seems to be an adequate punishment."

"What do you mean?" Bickley was now sweating along with the blood dripping down her shirt.

The man walked farther away from her and the balcony before replying, "Doesn't this remind you of anything? A man sneaking around a theater to achieve a certain goal, but in order to do it, he had to shoot someone on a balcony. Doesn't it make you think, Miss Bickley?"

He walked away without a word, and the last thing Cristina Bickley did before she blacked out was write three initials: "KGC."

Chapter One

"Robert, wake up. We've been asleep for thirteen hours now."

Robert Langdon awoke in his hotel room in Lille, France. He groaned as he rubbed his eyes and looked at the alarm clock next to him. It was 11:05 AM. He slowly forced himself to get out of bed and took a shower.

However, he still couldn't even begin to wonder about what had happened last night. He had been drinking and singing and laughing and doing whatever else he couldn't think of. Normally, Langdon wouldn't have been out so late, but he had been in the company of Sophie Neveu, a French cryptologist who he had worked with to prevent a catastrophe that had threatened to crumble the backbone of the world itself.

Sophie was already up and ready to go, but she still had some wonders about the previous night herself. She vaguely remembered having a few more drinks with Robert after they returned to their hotel room, but the rest was a blur, although she felt enormously tired.

Langdon walked into the bedroom, fully dressed, and kissed Sophie on the cheek. Then he picked up his Mickey Mouse wristwatch and walked into the kitchen.

"Robert, honey, there's someone on the phone who wants to talk to you."

Langdon groaned as he turned away from his orange juice and French toast to answer the telephone. He had a feeling that it was the same insane conspiracy buff who had called him yesterday and insisted that the northwest pointing of the arrow in the logo of the Order of the Arrow meant that they hid buried treasure somewhere in either Washington or Montana. "Hello?"

"Monsieur Langdon?"

"Yes, who's calling?"

"This is the front desk, sir. A police captain from the United States has asked me to patch you through to him."

Langdon paused for one second, thinking about just what kind of American police officer would call him while he was in France, let alone not knowing where he was.

"Tell this police captain that I'll call him back when I've had more rest. What's his name?"

"Just a moment, monsieur." Langdon waited for thirty seconds before the man at the front desk replied. "Captain Gregory Millman."

The orange juice and toast were thrown aside as Langdon was instantly wide awake. This captain happened to be a very good friend of his. Captain Millman was also known for his relaxed behavior towards witnesses. This non-commanding attitude of his earned him the nickname "Magnanimous Millman." Langdon said, "Patch him through."

Moments later, a voice came on the line. "Hello, Robert. We have much catching up to do."

What Langdon heard next was so mind-numbingly crazy, he ran back into the bedroom and packed his bags.

Chapter Two

On a quiet alley near Chesapeake Bay, crime lord Daniel Ascubett was busy waiting for news of success. His long-range plan was genius, pure genius.

If Francis succeeds tonight, he thought, then no one will ever again doubt our power or limits.

A man wearing a tuxedo walked into the alley, where he saw his boss and several other crime lords sitting around a small table. He walked up and placed an object on the table that he had stolen.

One of the men said, "So the stories are true. You have done well tonight, Francis."

"Yes, very well done."

"I appreciate your kind words, gentlemen, and my loyalty shall never waver so long as I am alive."

"That's good to hear," interjected Ascubett, after lighting his cigar and puffing smoke at the guy next to him. "It's about time those goddamn golden guys got what was comin' to 'em."

Francis nodded in the large man's direction, and then replied, "It is an honor to be employed by you, sir. After tonight, the name of Ascubett shall be known throughout the country as its savior."

Chapter Three

Sophie's initial reaction was complete shock. She herself had been burdened with loss of life when her grandfather had died a long while ago. But then she realized how good of an opportunity it was to be traveling to the United States, a country that she had never been to before, and to be assisting Langdon with whatever that captain called him for.

The second she stepped out of the plane, she knew she was in America. For one thing, there was a young couple right in front of them who were kissing as they dragged their carry-on luggage through the hallway. As she and Langdon walked into the airport, Sophie saw a guard confiscating a pack of cigarettes from a man who looked like he was drinking all night.

Langdon grimaced and turned to Sophie. "Don't worry," he said. "It gets better."

Sophie took the suggestion at face value.

She and Langdon walked over to the taxi that had been specially sent for them. During the ride, Sophie looked in awe at the many billboards along the highways, and wondered how exactly such things could be done without public awareness. The taxi finally pulled into the parking lot of a police department.

Langdon got out of the car, and walking towards him and Sophie was the recognizable face of his old friend, Captain Gregory Millman. Just looking at the way the captain walked was proof enough of his relaxed nature. He did not look in the least bit stern, although he looked serious. When he and Langdon finally reached one another, they hugged like the old friends they were.

"Millman, it's great to see you. You don't look any older than the last time I visited."

"That makes one of us, Robert! Only joking. It's good to see you too. And who's this young woman?"

"Oh, pardon. Sophie, this is Captain Gregory Millman."

Sophie shook the captain's large hand, while he said, "Call me Greg."

"And Greg, this is Sophie Neveu, cryptologist of the French Judicial Police."

Sophie blushed a little bit, but said, "Very nice to meet you, Greg."

The two of them let go, and then Millman escorted Langdon and Sophie into the police building. He led them down a large hallway to an office with his name on the door. When he opened it, what was inside hit Langdon like a ton of bricks.

A picture of a middle-aged woman was hanging on the back wall, with lots of sticky notes attached. She looked like she was inside a theater, on the balcony. The woman had blood seeping out of her shoulder, and she was dead. But what disturbed Langdon the most was the initials written on the piece of paper laid out next to the body : "KGC."

"So, Robert," said Millman, "what do you make of it?"

"Well," Langdon started, "nothing here really stands out so far. The place on the body where the bullet hit doesn't seem to have any large significance, but this piece of paper might mean something."

"Oh, it means something all right," said Millman. "Remember Freckiti?"

Langdon recalled the last time Millman had asked him to help with a case. Vincent Freckiti was an elusive bandit and a devout Catholic. However, he made a mistake by leaving behind his cross, which Langdon used to pinpoint five likely churches for him to be hiding out in. Thanks to Langdon's assistance, Millman made the arrest in no time.

Langdon paused to think about exactly what he was seeing. He tried to focus his thinking on the paper, but his mind was drawing blanks. Obviously, these three initials had something to do with history and symbology, but he wasn't really that sure what he was looking for.

All of a sudden, the answer popped out right before his eyes. "Of course," he said, marveling at the simplicity of it. "The Knights of the Golden Circle."

Sophie just stared and Langdon and asked, "Who the heck are the Knights of the Golden Circle? I know American history, but I've never heard of them." Millman looked just as baffled.

Langdon tried to remember the information he had gathered about these knights and then explained, "The KGC were founded in 1835 to promote the Southern states. Many Southern sympathizers living in the North, called Copperheads, were accused of belonging to this group because of their Southern feelings. Over the years, the knights ran into many conflicts, but none affected them as much as the American Civil War."

"Hold on just a minute," Millman interjected. "What the hell does this have to do with this woman?"

"I'm getting there," Langdon said. "Anyway, the knights happened to be very much against President Abraham Lincoln. During the war, as you may know, Lincoln was forced to get rid of habeas corpus, which caused the knights to call him unconstitutional. Lincoln never budged, despite much pressure put upon him. Finally, the knights decided to send him a message."

"What message?"

"They sent out one of their now-infamous members to take care of it."

"Which one?"

Langdon paused for dramatic effect before mentioning, "I can't believe that the killer would even attempt to mimic it."

"Mimic what?"

"The death of Abraham Lincoln at the hands of one of the Knights' most trusted members: John Wilkes Booth."