The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown PDF Download

The Da Vinci Code is a 2003 mystery thriller novel by Dan Brown. It follows "symbologist" Robert Langdon and cryptologist Sophie Neveu after a murder in the Louvre Museum in Paris causes them to become involved in a battle between the Priory of Sion and Opus Dei over the possibility of Jesus Christ having been a companion to Mary Magdalene.

Plot: While in Paris on business, Harvard symbologist Robert Langdon receives an urgent late-night phone call: the elderly curator of the Louvre has been murdered inside the museum. Near the body, police have found a baffling cipher. Solving the enigmatic riddle, Langdon is stunned to discover it leads to a trail of clues hidden in the works of da Vinci…clues visible for all to see…and yet ingeniously disguised by the painter.

Langdon joins forces with a gifted French cryptologist, Sophie Neveu, and learns the late curator was involved in the Priory of Sion—an actual secret society whose members included Sir Isaac Newton, Botticelli, Victor Hugo, and da Vinci, among others. The Louvre curator has sacrificed his life to protect the Priory’s most sacred trust: the location of a vastly important religious relic, hidden for centuries.

In a breathless race through Paris, London, and beyond, Langdon and Neveu match wits with a faceless powerbroker who appears to work for Opus Dei—a clandestine, Vatican-sanctioned Catholic sect believed to have long plotted to seize the Priory’s secret. Unless Langdon and Neveu can decipher the labyrinthine puzzle in time, the Priory’s secret—and a stunning historical truth—will be lost forever.

In an exhilarating blend of relentless adventure, scholarly intrigue, and cutting wit, symbologist Robert Langdon (first introduced in Dan Brown’s bestselling Angels & Demons) is the most original character to appear in years. The Da Vinci Code heralds the arrival of a new breed of lightning-paced, intelligent thriller…surprising at every twist, absorbing at every turn, and in the end, utterly unpredictable…right up to its astonishing conclusion.

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Prologue
Louvre Museum, Paris 10:46 P.M.
Renowned curator Jacques Saunière staggered through the vaulted archway of
the museum's Grand Gallery. He lunged for the nearest painting he could see,
a Caravaggio. Grabbing the gilded frame, the seventy-six-year-old man
heaved the masterpiece toward himself until it tore from the wall and Saunière
collapsed backward in a heap beneath the canvas.
As he had anticipated, a thundering iron gate fell nearby, barricading the
entrance to the suite. The parquet floor shook. Far off, an alarm began to ring.
The curator lay a moment, gasping for breath, taking stock. I am still alive. He
crawled out from under the canvas and scanned the cavernous space for
someplace to hide.
A voice spoke, chillingly close. "Do not move."
On his hands and knees, the curator froze, turning his head slowly.
Only fifteen feet away, outside the sealed gate, the mountainous silhouette of
his attacker stared through the iron bars. He was broad and tall, with ghost-
pale skin and thinning white hair. His irises were pink with dark red pupils. The
albino drew a pistol from his coat and aimed the barrel through the bars,
directly at the curator. "You should not have run." His accent was not easy to
place. "Now tell me where it is."
"I told you already," the curator stammered, kneeling defenseless on the floor
of the gallery. "I have no idea what you are talking about!"
"You are lying." The man stared at him, perfectly immobile except for the glint
in his ghostly eyes. "You and your brethren possess something that is not
yours."
The curator felt a surge of adrenaline. How could he possibly know this?
"Tonight the rightful guardians will be restored. Tell me where it is hidden, and
you will live." The man leveled his gun at the curator's head. "Is it a secret
you will die for?"
Saunière could not breathe. The man tilted his head, peering down the barrel of his gun.
Saunière held up his hands in defense. "Wait," he said slowly. "I will tell you
what you need to know." The curator spoke his next words carefully. The lie
he told was one he had rehearsed many times... each time praying he would
never have to use it.
When the curator had finished speaking, his assailant smiled smugly. "Yes.
This is exactly what the others told me."
Saunière recoiled. The others?
"I found them, too," the huge man taunted. "All three of them. They
confirmed what you have just said."
It cannot be! The curator's true identity, along with the identities of his three
sénéchaux, was almost as sacred as the ancient secret they protected.
Saunière now realized his sénéchaux, following strict procedure, had told the
same lie before their own deaths. It was part of the protocol.
The attacker aimed his gun again. "When you are gone, I will be the only one
who knows the truth."
The truth. In an instant, the curator grasped the true horror of the situation. If
I die, the truth will be lost forever. Instinctively, he tried to scramble for cover.
The gun roared, and the curator felt a searing heat as the bullet lodged in his
stomach. He fell forward... struggling against the pain. Slowly, Saunière rolled
over and stared back through the bars at his attacker.
The man was now taking dead aim at Saunière's head.
Saunière closed his eyes, his thoughts a swirling tempest of fear and regret.
The click of an empty chamber echoed through the corridor.
The curator's eyes flew open.
The man glanced down at his weapon, looking almost amused. He reached for
a second clip, but then seemed to reconsider, smirking calmly at Saunière's
gut. "My work here is done."
The curator looked down and saw the bullet hole in his white linen shirt. It was
framed by a small circle of blood a few inches below his breastbone. My
stomach. Almost cruelly, the bullet had missed his heart. As a veteran of la Guerre d'Algérie, the curator had witnessed this horribly drawn-out death
before. For fifteen minutes, he would survive as his stomach acids seeped into
his chest cavity, slowly poisoning him from within.
"Pain is good, monsieur," the man said.
Then he was gone.
Alone now, Jacques Saunière turned his gaze again to the iron gate. He was
trapped, and the doors could not be reopened for at least twenty minutes. By
the time anyone got to him, he would be dead. Even so, the fear that now
gripped him was a fear far greater than that of his own death.
I must pass on the secret.
Staggering to his feet, he pictured his three murdered brethren. He thought of
the generations who had come before them... of the mission with which they
had all been entrusted.
An unbroken chain of knowledge.
Suddenly, now, despite all the precautions... despite all the fail-safes...
Jacques Saunière was the only remaining link, the sole guardian of one of the
most powerful secrets ever kept.
Shivering, he pulled himself to his feet.
I must find some way....
He was trapped inside the Grand Gallery, and there existed only one person
on earth to whom he could pass the torch. Saunière gazed up at the walls of
his opulent prison. A collection of the world's most famous paintings seemed
to smile down on him like old friends.
Wincing in pain, he summoned all of his faculties and strength. The desperate
task before him, he knew, would require every remaining second of his life.

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