Langdon stood motionless at the Pope's bulletproof window and gazed down at the bustle of media trailers in St. Peter's Square. The eerie phone conversation had left him feeling turgid… distended somehow. Not himself.
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The Illuminati, like a serpent from the forgotten depths of history, had risen and wrapped themselves around an ancient foe. No demands. No negotiation. Just retribution. Demonically simple. Squeezing. A revenge 400 years in the making. It seemed that after centuries of persecution, science had bitten back.
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第四十三章
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