CHAPTER 21
THE LIMOUSINE WALKED ON THE BANKS of the Potomac River, in the middle of a gray afternoon in the city of Washington. The lone passenger in the back was mentally reviewing the decisive move he was about to play; it would be a gigantic step, if he felt proud of the role that fate had reserved for him. He remembered all those who preceded him and the effort and dedication with which they launched themselves into this fabulous project. They had enjoyed power and riches, but the glory would be his alone. And everyone, absolutely everyone, if they were alive, would look at him with undisguised envy.
The notebook open in front of him emitted a signal, and he was then back to reality. He typed the secret code and immediately the portal appeared: it was there, within reach of anyone with a computer connected to the network, but at the same time, completely inaccessible. Hackers, governments, secret agencies like the CIA or the National Security Agency, who if they had the slightest suspicion of its existence, could try billions of combinations to access it. Nevertheless, he would remain there, immersed in the net's deepest abyss.
Only a dozen enlightened ones had the knowledge of its existence, or of the language, as old as civilization itself to access it. The text appeared on the screen; it was made up of words that did not belong to any of the more than three thousand languages and dialects existing on the globe.
The message has been completed.
He then leaned back gently on the seat of the limousine, picked up his cell phone and dialed a number that made the phone ring inside a beautiful room in one of the most exclusive places in the world, located on another continent.
The limousine was now approaching Congress. Having gone through his instructions, he now felt as if the book was already in his hands. The monument to George Washington was now a quarter of a mile away. He looked up at the top of the obelisk, contemplating the pyramid. Then he respectfully bowed his head, for he knew its true meaning.