Nick worked his way slowly to the house, staying off the driveway. It took him quite some time to navigate through the scrub oak, rocks, and rising terrain. As he began to catch a glimpse of the house, he moved further off away from the driveway and deeper into the trees. As he approached, he found the trees came up very close to the house, so this helped. As the sun rose, he reconnoitered as best as he could in a pair of snowshoes. A single-story dwelling with what looked to be a basement, the house was plain and unremarkable. As he worked his way around it, he saw the blinds were drawn on all the windows. The back of the house was actually built into the side of the mountain, with only half of the first floor visible. In this part of the house, the basement was probably ten feet underground. That fit with what he expected.
He looked around the house for signs of life outside. The snow was pristine. No one had walked around the house since the most recent snow. The driveway was not plowed. That did not mean much, except that his tracks would be all the more visible to Mr. Linn.
Nick sat on his haunches, pondering what to do. Finally, he decided a simple approach would be best. He walked up to the front of the house, released his snowshoes, put his hand on the front doorknob, turned it, and walked in.
He walked as quietly as he could in boots, quickly working his way through the upper floor. The master bedroom was empty and showed no signs of recent activity. Similarly, the kitchen was noticeably silent. Nick quietly worked his way to the door to the three-car garage with an over-sized bay. He opened it expectantly. He saw a Ford Explorer much like his own and an RV matching the description provided by the Pueblo motel manager.
At 7:05 a.m. Mike Smith’s cell phone chirped. He and Sandy Burns both jumped to attention. The two technicians appeared drugged, moving slowly. “C’mon, c’mon, this is it,” Sandy said, snapping them to attention. Smith’s directions were to keep The Doctor on the phone as long as possible without arousing suspicion. While they could triangulate very quickly, it would take a couple of minutes to pinpoint a location. Current technology allowed pinpointing cell phone locations in most cases. At times, however, the apps used could be glitchy or even inaccurate. Law enforcement still found old-fashioned triangulation to be more reliable. They would deploy both technologies to ensure the best possible outcome.
“Hello,” he said. The officer using the tracking application indicated it was not working. The Doctor had somehow managed to disable that functionality.
“I have received the transfer,” the voice said calmly.
“Let me assure you, it was well deserved,” Smith responded.
The Doctor hesitated. They usually did not talk. “How so?”
“I told you when I received the package this was particularly brilliant. The market is outstanding.”
The Doctor smiled arrogantly, “My friend, we are creating a new genre. It takes a while for new markets to open up, to respond. We are seeing the fruits of our labors.”
“No doubt,” Smith responded. The technicians indicated they needed thirty seconds.
“Your brilliance is showing through, here, if I might say so. Keep the brilliant product flowing.”
“No doubt,” The Doctor said, and disconnected.
The technicians worked frantically, attempting to pinpoint the source. Finally, the head tech responded, pointing Burns to a map, “we cannot pinpoint an exact location, but it is near Delta, in this area.”
Burns pulled out a separate map of Colorado with the locations of all three suspects. No doubt it was Nicholas Linn. She raced out of the room to the hall, frantically dialing Nick.
As Nick was peering into the garage, his cell phone buzzed. He quickly moved into the garage, closed the door, worked his way to the far end, and pulled a tarp over his head to muffle the sound of his voice. “Yeah,” he whispered.
“Nick, is that you?” Burns screamed into the phone.
He whispered again. “I can hear you fine.”
“Nick, he called. The Doctor is Nicholas Linn, the one near Delta.”
“Shit, Sandy,” Nick replied. “I’m here, in his garage. Call Bosworth, call the sheriff. Get them out here as soon as you can. I’m going to get this son-of-a-bitch.”
Nick turned off his cell phone. The cavalry was coming. He would need them. Nick was certain The Doctor left the front door open specifically for him. He crept down the stairs to the basement. As he reached the bottom, he looked around tentatively. It was fully finished and furnished, but it had not been split into separate rooms. One wall had a one-hundred-twenty-inch super-high-definition television with a home theatre system and two comfortable lounge chairs. A separate corner had been sectioned off as a home office, with a computer, bookcases, a filing cabinet, and all the peripherals. Then Nick’s eyes landed on the back of the room, the area that abutted the mountain. The pool table stood in front of a large bar. One section of the bar opened into the mountain. Nick walked quietly to it and found a wide entry with a shaft leading down into a mine.
He examined the entrance closely. It was brilliant, like nothing he had ever seen before. Behind the bar, Linn had secreted a large stone wall. Once the bar opening was closed, it would be undetectable. Further, the stone wall was a foot thick and built such that it could be rolled into place behind the bar. Even if someone tore the area open, it would appear that this was another part of the basement foundation.
Nick knew The Doctor was expecting him. The front door would not have been left unlocked. The secret passageway would not have been revealed. Someone this smart would not be this careless. He had no choice. He sprinted down the shaft.
He expected it to open onto a large room, but it did not. Rather, the shaft concluded after approximately fifty feet. As he sprinted through the shaft, he realized whoever had built this was definitely a miner. The roof was supported by beams larger than railroad ties, affixed with large bolts. He did understand, though, that The Doctor had traveled further into the mountain before building rooms. He did not want surface subsidence to give away his activities, or to bury him alive.
At the conclusion of the fifty feet, Nick had the choice of going straight, angling sixty degrees to the right or a similar angle to the left. The passageways were well lit. He was sweating, his heart racing. Where was she? He peered down the passageway to the right and charged that direction. Within fifteen feet, he was rewarded. He found a steel door on the right. To the left of this, the wall had been carved out a couple of feet. As he peered into the opening, he saw a steel door protecting an opening that was approximately three inches high and twenty-four inches wide. He craned his head back around to the door and then to this opening. He attempted to lift the steel slat, but it would not budge. It appeared to be operated mechanically.
Nick rushed back to the door. It appeared to work electronically, but also had a manual override, one of those steel wheels on a pulley similar to old submarines. Nick began cranking the door open. It was heavy but yielded quickly to his enthusiasm. He got it about three feet off the ground and ducked under it, finding another steel door, very similar. He puzzled over this for a moment, then realized this was a holding area. The Doctor would move a victim through the first door, close it, then open the second. It was security much like a prison. Hell, this was worse than a prison.
The steel door slammed shut behind him, trapping Nick. It was pitch black. He pulled his headlamp out of the backpack, quickly strapped it onto his head, and switched it on. The second door also had a steel wheel. He turned it quickly and that door, too, gave way. He rushed through the second door in search of Phyllis.
Nick saw three bodies as he cleared the second door. He hurried to them, expecting to find Phyllis. They were so bludgeoned and bloody, Nick could barely tell the men from the woman. Two had been dead for some time, but one of the men was still warm. He had died very recently, within the hour Nick suspected. None of them were Phyllis.
He then surveyed the room. He found four different points of entry beyond the one he had come through. O
nly one offered any hope for Nick. Again, the wheel called out to him. Nick quickly opened the door and moved into the holding area. Again, the door behind him slammed shut. As he began opening the second door, he heard a distant voice calling out to him, “Nicholas, Nicholas.”
Sheriff Watson arrived at Linn’s house first, half an hour before Burleson and Rhodes. Bosworth arrived fifteen minutes later. It didn’t matter. The house was already engulfed in flames when Watson drove up. He had seen the smoke from the moment he left Delta.
The volunteer fire department was on the scene quickly, but the house and anyone inside would be a total loss. They pumped the stingy reserves on the flames mainly to contain them, to keep any trees from catching fire. Fighting the fire itself would be fruitless. They conserved water in the tanks.
The structure collapsed shortly after Bosworth arrived, moving substantially all of the damage to the basement. The collapse itself actually helped the cause, compacting the remaining flammable material and restricting oxygen to the blaze.
Watson, Bosworth, and the other law enforcement officers watched helplessly, questions sorting through each of their brains. They would have the site soon enough.
As he ducked under the door and shone his light into the tiny room, he saw Phyllis, sitting with her back against the far wall, catatonic.
Unlike the other survivors, The Doctor did not accommodate Phyllis Lynch with water, towels, and clean clothes. She sat smeared in dried blood, naked and shivering. Nick moved quickly to her and held her close. The door slammed behind him, as he knew it would. The lights came on and Nick jumped.
“You have to look at this,” Phyllis said flatly, handing Nick a single piece of paper.
Nick unfolded it and began to read.
DR. LYNCH-
I want to thank you firsthand for your superb performance. While I must say the most outstanding performance I have seen came from Gary Knight, yours no doubt is a close second.
Before I go I want you to know why all of this happened. I knew I had serious problems. I researched the best doctors in the country, and I found you.
Many months ago, I came to you. I already had this operation working. I had made too many movies to count. But I had not yet sold any of these. And I was feeling something like remorse. I knew what I was doing was wrong, and I was looking for help.
They say psychopaths cannot distinguish right from wrong; they can’t recognize their own psychopathy. They’re wrong. I know I’m a psychopath. I sought help.
I came to you. You laughed at me. You told me to ‘get over’ myself.
You did not allow me to stay a full hour, and you would not allow me to have another appointment.
I did pay you, and I repaid you. I created a production that starred your daughter. I provide you now with a flash drive of this movie so you can enjoy it as much as I do. It was too special. I never sold it; I saved it for you.
Enjoy sharing this with the rest of your family. And tell the good Detective Lynch and Governor McFadden I said hello.
The Doctor
Nick looked at Phyllis. He unfolded her left hand and found the flash drive.
Nick looked back at the door he had come through as it slammed shut.
“Phyllis,” he said, “We have to go.” She did not even look up. He quickly pulled clothes for her out of his backpack, stood her up, and dressed her without effort from her. He had brought hiking boots, so it took some effort to pull them on.
Nick took the crank he had pulled off from opening the last door and fitted it to the mechanism. He quickly opened the door. He grabbed the wheel and pulled Phyllis through the opening. As he began to crank the second door open, he noted the first door did not slam shut. The Doctor was gone.
Nick worked his way back the way he had come, dragging Phyllis the whole way. She pulled against going back through the room with the dead bodies, the people she had killed. Finally, he had her into the passageway. He picked her up and carried her, knowing there was no time for argument.
The first explosion came as they were working their way up the main shaft back to the basement and the bar. Dust and small debris fell from the ceiling even though the explosion sounded far away. Nick thought he also smelled smoke. The lights went out. Phyllis showed no reaction.
He put her down, switched his headlamp back on, lifted Phyllis, and started running. Two more explosions occurred, both closer. Larger rocks were falling, littering the pathway and making it more difficult to navigate. One hit Nick in the forehead, and he fell, spilling Phyllis and breaking the headlamp. He grabbed her and began fumbling his way toward the end. He knew they only had minutes, maybe seconds, before the mountain would come down on them.
He reached the stone wall barricading the bar from the secret passageway. He had not taken time upon entering to understand how the mechanism worked to move this. He felt about for anything to move the concrete. Phyllis screamed as the ceiling began to come down. Nick grabbed a tire iron out of his backpack, found the crack where the edge met the remainder of the basement wall foundation, and worked with strength he did not know he possessed. As soon as the wall moved slightly, Nick stuck his fingers in, up to his palms, and pulled with all his might. The door slid open, and the acrid smell of smoke penetrated the bar wall remaining.
Recognizing what The Doctor had done, Nick made a split-second decision. He reasoned they were more likely to survive a fire than a mountain falling on them, so he rolled the false wall open. Smoke poured in, but the flames and heat were minimal. Since the house had caved in, re-entry to the basement was blocked by burning debris and furniture. Nick began grabbing things and throwing them out of the way, making as much commotion as possible. The roof mountain was coming down. Then he had an epiphany.
Burleson’s cell phone chirped, and he looked at caller ID. “Where are you?”
“Vince, Vince, we’re at the back of the house, in the basement. We’ve been in the mountain but it’s coming down. You have to get us out.”
Burleson quickly relayed the message to the fire department. Having saved some of the water in the tanks, they quickly moved and doused the area, clearing the fire from Nick and Phyllis. Two brave firemen attached themselves to rope systems and jumped into the basement. Three minutes from the time of Nick’s call, Phyllis and Nick were being lifted to safety.
Phyllis Lynch was taken by ambulance to a local hospital. Nick rode along with her, holding her hand. She still was not speaking.
As night approached, Bosworth and Burleson showed up. Nick stepped out of the room.
“How’s she doing?” Bosworth asked.
“As well as can be expected,” he replied soberly. He had no intention of ever telling anyone what had occurred with Phyllis—not her participation in the three people dying, not The Doctor’s note, and most certainly not Alisha.
After a brief pause, Bosworth said, “First of all, we’ll never get those three bodies out of that mountain. And, of course, who knows how many other people he was holding captive down there? We will never really know. He apparently set timed explosives to crater the whole network he had built. There’s nothing left. We can’t get in there. We’ll never know what all he had built.”
Nick nodded. He figured as much.
“We did find one body in the house. The remains were burnt beyond recognition. He died from a single gunshot wound to the head, not from the fire. He left this note behind. We found it by him in a fireproof container. It’s addressed to you, so I thought you should see it before we give it to the evidence folks.” Bosworth nodded to Burleson, who handed Nick the note sealed in a plastic bag.
DETECTIVE LYNCH-
My time has come to bid you adieu.
My biggest disappointment is that you have not been a more worthy adversary.
You still have time to figure it out, but you better hurry.
I wish you the best in your future endeavors.
Keep the bad guys away.
The Doctor
The handwrit
ing was definitely his. But the note was puzzling. How was he an adversary? He hadn’t even met the man. Clearly The Doctor intended to keep the same secrets he did. Why had he written the note this way?
Nick handed the note back to Burleson.
“Will we be able to affirmatively confirm it was him who died in the fire?” Nick asked.
Bosworth shook his head, “I doubt it. We’ve already checked with his dentist, and his dental records are missing. No surprise there. We also don’t have any DNA evidence on him to compare to the body. Everything either burned or was crushed.”
“Has to be him,” Nick concluded, “there was nowhere else for him to go.” He knew he was trying to convince himself as much as the others.
Days 22 to 43
Nick found he liked having time off. He slept late every morning, got up, fixed a latte, and read the paper. After an hour or so of lounging, he would go for a jog and then return to lift the various weights he had accumulated over the years. Only after noon would he shower and find the first morsels of food. He felt good. His weight was coming down, he was moving back into the next smaller size of pants, and his mind was clearing. He no longer drank, but he hadn’t gone to any of those meetings yet. Maybe that was next. He was cleaning out the baggage, but one thing at a time.
Phyllis, on the other hand, was distraught. Upon returning to Denver she had closed her practice, stopped writing, and halted her speaking engagements. She sought the therapy she so often provided and looked to find the meaning of life that had abandoned her. Slowly she began to heal, but in her own way.
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