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«
The
French
police
are
tracking
two
fugitives
tonight
.
»
«
So
?
»
«
Both
of
them
just
walked
into
our
bank
.
»
The
manager
cursed
quietly
.
«
Okay
.
I
’
ll
contact
Monsieur
Vernet
immediately
.
»
The
guard
then
hung
up
and
placed
a
second
call
.
This
one
to
Interpol
.
Langdon
was
surprised
to
feel
the
elevator
dropping
rather
than
climbing
.
He
had
no
idea
how
many
floors
they
had
descended
beneath
the
Depository
Bank
of
Zurich
before
the
door
finally
opened
.
He
didn
’
t
care
.
He
was
happy
to
be
out
of
the
elevator
.
Displaying
impressive
alacrity
,
a
host
was
already
standing
there
to
greet
them
.
He
was
elderly
and
pleasant
,
wearing
a
neatly
pressed
flannel
suit
that
made
him
look
oddly
out
of
place
–
an
old
-
world
banker
in
a
high
-
tech
world
.
«
Bonsoir
,
»
the
man
said
.
«
Good
evening
.
Would
you
be
so
kind
as
to
follow
me
,
s
’
il
vous
plait
?
»
Without
waiting
for
a
response
,
he
spun
on
his
heel
and
strode
briskly
down
a
narrow
metal
corridor
.
Langdon
walked
with
Sophie
down
a
series
of
corridors
,
past
several
large
rooms
filled
with
blinking
mainframe
computers
.
«
Voici
,
»
their
host
said
,
arriving
at
a
steel
door
and
opening
it
for
them
.
«
Here
you
are
.
»
Langdon
and
Sophie
stepped
into
another
world
.
The
small
room
before
them
looked
like
a
lavish
sitting
room
at
a
fine
hotel
.
Gone
were
the
metal
and
rivets
,
replaced
with
oriental
carpets
,
dark
oak
furniture
,
and
cushioned
chairs
.
On
the
broad
desk
in
the
middle
of
the
room
,
two
crystal
glasses
at
beside
an
opened
bottle
of
Perrier
,
its
bubbles
still
fizzing
.
A
pewter
pot
of
coffee
steamed
beside
it
.
Clockwork
,
Langdon
thought
.
Leave
it
to
the
Swiss
.
