Reedle Откройте в мобильном приложении
Понятно
Понятно
Для того чтобы воспользоваться закладками, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Отмена
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Отмена
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Отмена
«
Long
story
,
»
he
said
,
pulling
his
sleeve
back
down
.
«
I
imagine
it
would
have
to
be
.
»
She
gave
him
a
quick
smile
and
exited
the
rotary
,
heading
due
north
,
away
from
the
city
center
.
Barely
making
two
green
lights
,
she
reached
the
third
intersection
and
took
a
hard
right
onto
Boulevard
Malesherbes
.
They
’
d
left
the
rich
,
tree
-
lined
streets
of
the
diplomatic
neighborhood
and
plunged
into
a
darker
industrial
neighborhood
.
Sophie
took
a
quick
left
,
and
a
moment
later
,
Langdon
realized
where
they
were
.
Gare
Saint
-
Lazare
.
Ahead
of
them
,
the
glass
-
roofed
train
terminal
resembled
the
awkward
offspring
of
an
airplane
hangar
and
a
greenhouse
.
European
train
stations
never
slept
.
Even
at
this
hour
,
a
half
-
dozen
taxi
sidled
near
the
main
entrance
.
Vendors
manned
carts
of
sandwiches
and
mineral
water
while
grungy
kids
in
backpacks
emerged
from
the
station
rubbing
their
eyes
,
looking
around
as
if
trying
to
remember
what
city
they
were
in
now
.
Up
ahead
on
the
street
,
a
couple
of
city
policemen
stood
on
the
curb
giving
directions
to
some
confused
tourists
Sophie
pulled
her
SmartCar
in
behind
the
line
of
taxis
and
parked
in
a
red
zone
despite
plenty
of
legal
parking
across
the
street
.
Before
Langdon
could
ask
what
was
going
on
,
she
was
out
of
the
car
.
She
hurried
to
the
window
of
the
taxi
in
front
of
them
and
began
speaking
to
the
driver
.
Отключить рекламу
As
Langdon
got
out
of
the
SmartCar
,
he
saw
Sophie
hand
the
taxi
driver
a
big
wad
of
cash
.
The
taxi
driver
nodded
and
then
,
to
Langdon
’
s
bewilderment
,
sped
off
without
them
.
«
What
happened
?
»
Langdon
demanded
,
joining
Sophie
on
the
curb
as
the
taxi
disappeared
.
Sophie
was
already
heading
for
the
train
station
entrance
.
«
Come
on
.
We
’
re
buying
two
tickets
on
the
next
train
out
of
Paris
.
»
Langdon
hurried
along
beside
her
.
What
had
begun
as
a
one
-
mile
dash
to
the
U
.
S
.
Embassy
had
now
become
a
full
-
fledged
evacuation
from
Paris
.
Langdon
was
liking
this
idea
less
and
less
.
Отключить рекламу
The
driver
who
collected
Bishop
Aringarosa
from
Leonardo
Da
Vinci
International
Airport
pulled
up
in
a
small
,
unimpressive
black
Fiat
sedan
.
Aringarosa
recalled
a
day
when
all
Vatican
transports
were
big
luxury
cars
that
sported
grille
-
plate
medallions
and
flags
emblazoned
with
the
seal
of
the
Holy
See
.
Those
days
are
gone
.
Vatican
cars
were
now
less
ostentatious
and
almost
always
unmarked
.
The
Vatican
claimed
this
was
to
cut
costs
to
better
serve
their
dioceses
,
but
Aringarosa
suspected
it
was
more
of
a
security
measure
.
The
world
had
gone
mad
,
and
in
many
parts
of
Europe
,
advertising
your
love
of
Jesus
Christ
was
like
painting
a
bull
’
s
-
eye
on
the
roof
of
your
car
.
Bundling
his
black
cassock
around
himself
,
Aringarosa
climbed
into
the
back
seat
and
settled
in
for
the
long
drive
to
Castel
Gandolfo
.
It
would
be
the
same
ride
he
had
taken
five
months
ago
.
Last
year
’
s
trip
to
Rome
,
he
sighed
.
The
longest
night
of
my
life
.