Inferno: (Robert Langdon Book 4)

okay. Your memory will come back slowly.”
    The doctor returned now with a syringe, which he handed to Dr. Brooks. She injected its contents into Langdon’s IV.
    “Just a mild sedative to calm you down,” she explained, “and also to help with the pain.” She stood to go. “You’ll be fine, Mr. Langdon. Just sleep. If you need anything, press the button on your bedside.”
    She turned out the light and departed with the bearded doctor.
    In the darkness, Langdon felt the drugs washing through his system almost instantly, dragging his body back down into that deep well from which he had emerged. He fought the feeling, forcing his eyes open in the darkness of his room. He tried to sit up, but his body felt like cement.
    As Langdon shifted, he found himself again facing the window. The lights were out, and in the dark glass, his own reflection had disappeared, replaced by an illuminated skyline in the distance.
    Amid a contour of spires and domes, a single regal facade dominated Langdon’s field of view. The building was an imposing stone fortress with a notched parapet and a three-hundred-foot tower that swelled near the top, bulging outward into a massive machicolated battlement.
    Langdon sat bolt upright in bed, pain exploding in his head. He fought off the searing throb and fixed his gaze on the tower.
    Langdon knew the medieval structure well.
    It was unique in the world.
    Unfortunately, it was also located four thousand miles from Massachusetts.

    Outside his window, hidden in the shadows of the Via Torregalli, a powerfully built woman effortlessly unstraddled her BMW motorcycle andadvanced with the intensity of a panther stalking its prey. Her gaze was sharp. Her close-cropped hair—styled into spikes—stood out against the upturned collar of her black leather riding suit. She checked her silenced weapon, and stared up at the window where Robert Langdon’s light had just gone out.
    Earlier tonight her original mission had gone horribly awry.
    The coo of a single dove had changed everything.
    Now she had come to make it right.

CHAPTER 2
    I’M IN FLORENCE!?
    Robert Langdon’s head throbbed. He was now seated upright in his hospital bed, repeatedly jamming his finger into the call button. Despite the sedatives in his system, his heart was racing.
    Dr. Brooks hurried back in, her ponytail bobbing. “Are you okay?”
    Langdon shook his head in bewilderment. “I’m in … Italy!?”
    “Good,” she said. “You’re remembering.”
    “No!” Langdon pointed out the window at the commanding edifice in the distance. “I recognize the Palazzo Vecchio.”
    Dr. Brooks flicked the lights back on, and the Florence skyline disappeared. She came to his bedside, whispering calmly. “Mr. Langdon, there’s no need to worry. You’re suffering from mild amnesia, but Dr. Marconi confirmed that your brain function is fine.”
    The bearded doctor rushed in as well, apparently hearing the call button. He checked Langdon’s heart monitor as the young doctor spoke to him in rapid, fluent Italian—something about how Langdon was “agitato” to learn he was in Italy.
    Agitated? Langdon thought angrily. More like stupefied! The adrenaline surging through his system was now doing battle with the sedatives. “What happened to me?” he demanded. “What day is it?!”
    “Everything is fine,” she said. “It’s early morning. Monday, March eighteenth.”
    Monday. Langdon forced his aching mind to reel back to the last images he could recall—cold and dark—walking alone across the Harvard campus to a Saturday-night lecture series. That was two days ago?! A sharper panic now gripped him as he tried to recall anything at all from the lecture or afterward. Nothing. The ping of his heart monitor accelerated.
    The older doctor scratched at his beard and continued adjusting equipment while Dr. Brooks sat again beside Langdon.
    “You’re going to be okay,” she reassured him, speaking gently. “We’vediagnosed you with retrograde amnesia, which is very common in head trauma. Your memories of the past few days may be muddled or missing, but you should suffer no permanent damage.” She paused. “Do you remember my first name? I told you when I walked in.”
    Langdon thought a moment. “Sienna.” Dr. Sienna Brooks.
    She smiled. “See? You’re already forming new memories.”
    The pain in Langdon’s head was almost unbearable, and his near-field vision remained blurry. “What … happened? How did I get