Wet Desert: Tracking Down a Terrorist on the Colorado River (45 page)

"Yeah?"
Roland prompted.

"Well, I had to explain to the governor what would happen if he didn't start dumping immediately." Grant smiled a little. "I had to scare him. I asked him if he wanted to take responsibility if
Hoover
failed and wiped out everything downstream."

"Go on." The commissioner looked perplexed. "What about the spillways?"

"Well, after we convinced the governor to open all the gates, we were still only dumping about 75,000 cubic feet per second. And I knew that the spillways could handle almost 400,000 between them, but by the time the floodwater arrived and rose high enough to spill, it'd be too late. So I convinced the governor to bring in a demolition team and open 'em up."

Stuart Jaconi, one of Roland's sidekicks, shook his head. "How many dollars worth of damage do you think you caused?"

Grant tore into him. "Less than what it would've cost to rebuild
Hoover
and the other dams downstream."

"You don't know
Hoover
would have failed. We don't even know if your numbers are right."

Roland held out his hand to call off Jaconi then looked back at Grant. "Did anyone check your numbers?"

Grant nodded.
"Of course.
Bruce's team checked 'em. We're within a couple of feet."

"What difference did you say blowing the spillways will make?" Roland asked hesitantly.

"We figure that by the time the water is high enough to go over the dam, we will have dropped the lake almost three feet."

Roland surprised Grant by his next comment, and judging by their expressions, he surprised his men also. "I'm not sure I would have done it, but I understand your logic in opening the spillways." He pointed out of the room. "Now I want to hear about that sandbag circus out there."

Grant continued. "Well, we still expected between ten and fifteen feet of water to spill over the top of Hoover, and even that, we knew, would take out Davis Dam downstream and cause millions of dollars worth of damage to Hoover, especially the generation plants. We felt that even ten feet topping
Hoover
could potentially break it, especially since it will be topped for almost two months."

Jaconi interrupted. "How could you be sure
Davis
would fail?"

Grant talked down to him like he would to a child. "Davis Dam is a land fill. It's made of dirt. How much water over the top do you think it could stand?"

"I know what a land fill is," he retorted, but he immediately shut up.

"Go on, Stevens," the commissioner urged.

"We knew that
Davis
was a goner, but I was surprised to find out that
Davis
held over three times as much water as
Lake
Havasu
downstream. Therefore, when
Davis
failed, it would definitely take out Parker Dam downstream with it."

"What about the dams downstream from Parker?" asked the
commissioner.

"Oh, we'll lose them regardless," Grant stated unemotionally.

Jaconi stood. "How can you be sure of that?

Grant faced him.
"Easy math, Stuart.
Their spillways aren't nearly as big as
Hoover
,
Davis
, and Parker. Since the big spillways will be running at capacity, the smaller dams will definitely get topped."

Roland put his hand over Jaconi's, an unspoken command to shut up. "Please continue, Stevens."

"Anyway, we were fairly certain that we couldn't save Davis and Parker. We were concentrating mostly on how to mitigate the damage. It was frustrating. Finally, in desperation, we concluded that if
Hoover
were only fifteen feet higher . . . and . . ." Grant motioned toward the dam. "In fact, the more we thought about it, the more we realized we might be able to save all three dams with a twenty foot dike."

The commissioner thought about it. He looked around at the others who were silent, then looked back at Grant. "What if the sandbags don't hold?"

Grant shrugged. "Then ten feet of water would spill, the same as if we hadn't built it." Grant stood on his feet, sucked up the pain from the sore toe, and walked over close to the commissioner and leaned down close. "But what if it does hold, Commissioner?"

Roland turned and scanned the eyes of his men, then looked back at Grant, hesitating for a few moments. "Stevens, I'm going to let you keep working on the dike." He rubbed his temples again. "Things aren't as bad as they seemed when I first arrived. I'll tell the governor we are proceeding." He looked directly at Grant. "But make sure it doesn't fail. I don't have to tell you that the Bureau can't win in this deal. The publicity from
Glen
Canyon
and the other dams downstream that we're going to lose is going to kill us."

Grant nodded.

The commissioner stood and walked toward the door, then stopped and turned. "Stevens, you should probably know that the Bureau could have done much worse than what you've done here."

"Thank you, Commissioner." Grant marveled that the conversation had gone so well.

* * *

5:30 a.m. -
Hoover
Dam,
Nevada

When Grant walked out of the conference room, Fred was waiting for him. He looked nervous. He immediately walked over and grabbed Grant's arm. "He blew up the California Aqueduct."

"What?"

"They called right after you guys went in the conference room. I've been waiting for you to come out. There's been another explosion. Somebody blew up the aqueduct."

Grant felt confused. "Where did this happen? Do we know if it's the same guy?"

"It happened about fifty miles west of
Lake
Havasu
.
Out in the desert.
There's water all over the place out there."

Grant considered the repercussions. "How does this affect us?
The dams downstream?"

Fred hesitated. "Well, they obviously had to shut the pumps off in Havasu. I'm not sure what you're getting at."

What did this have to do with the other bombings? He had the next piece of the puzzle, but he wasn't sure where or if it fit. "I'm not sure I know what I'm getting at either. I'm just trying to figure out why. What does this have to do with the other explosions?"

Fred didn't respond; he just looked puzzled.

Grant continued thinking out loud. "So what is the net result of shutting off the pumps?"

Fred shrugged. "I guess it's going to make the flood downstream a little worse. You know, since all the water that was in the aqueduct is now going to stay in Havasu."

Grant considered the idea,
then
looked back at Fred. "I wonder if that's it. After the bomb at Davis Dam, he must
of
figured we'd step up security on the other dams. Could this guy's motivation be to flood the hell out of the lower
Colorado
? I wonder who he hates down
there?
" Grant pulled the cell phone off his belt. "We need to call Phil. These are all questions for the FBI."

Phil picked up on the first ring. He sounded as if he were losing the war. He had already heard about the bombed aqueduct and had already dispatched a couple of agents to the site. However, they didn't have high expectations on collecting evidence. Police reports from the site reported that water had washed much of the hillside away, not to mention the small lake created in the surrounding area.

"What's next?" asked Grant.

"We need to get together again, talk some more," said Phil.

"I can't leave here," Grant responded. "The water from
Glen
Canyon
is starting to arrive and
Lake Mead
water levels are rising by the minute. Things are going to get a little dicey."

"That's fine. The trail's cold here anyway. I'm coming to
Hoover
. You guys have been hearing stuff before us."

Grant hesitated for a second. "Look, I don't want to tell you guys how to do your job, but -"

Phil interrupted him. "No. Go ahead."

"Well, one thing we shouldn't wait to discuss is that our bad guy must have guessed we'd beef up the security around the dams. So that might be the reason he switched to the aqueduct. I think it's only reasonable --"

"I'm way ahead of you. There's another one farther down, isn't there? I agree; I can have the police tighten security there, too."

"There's more than one, Phil. There's a couple that go to
Arizona
, including the Central Arizona Project, CAP, and one that goes to the Indians. There's another huge one called the
All
American
Canal
that goes to
Imperial Valley
. That one even splits and sends a fork over to
Palm Springs
. And then there's the Gila, another big one, but it's in
Mexico
."

Phil didn't say anything.

Grant continued. "The bottom line is, these things stretch for hundreds of miles through the desert. The police aren't going to be able to guard 'em. The bombers probably waltzed right up to the last one. It's in the middle of nowhere."

"I see your point."

Grant continued. "Look, I still don't know this guy's motive, but he seems to be concentrating on the lower
Colorado River
. It's almost like he wants to damage something or somebody downstream. I think we need to get aggressive. Shut down all the roads in and out. String the National Guard along the aqueducts. You name it. Our targets cover a lot of space out there."

"That's going to be tough, Grant. They are still trying to evacuate many of those cities downstream. There are thousands of people on the roads. We can't impede the evacuations."

Grant rubbed his forehead. "I know, I know. But we have to try. Maybe you can randomly stop some of them. Who knows, we might get lucky at a roadblock somewhere. Isn't that how they caught the guy that blew up the Oklahoma Federal building?"

"We'll see what we can do, Grant."

"What about the dams and aqueducts in
Mexico
?" Grant asked.

Phil hesitated. "You know the FBI can't go into
Mexico
."

Actually, Grant didn't know. "But this is an emergency."

"Grant
,
the FBI cannot go into
Mexico
. We have no jurisdiction. Their government will have to handle it."

Grant hated politics, but saw no way around this one. "Well, have we talked to them yet? We need to at least give them a heads up."

"Not yet. I'll need to make some calls to the big wigs. It won't be my decision. In the meantime, I need some help with maps of all the aqueducts, something I can pass to local law enforcement."

Grant knew Phil wouldn't like the answer. "Phil, the Bureau doesn't handle the aqueducts. In fact, I'll bet every one is handled by a separate agency or municipality." He hesitated. "But I can give you a contact at the Bureau, somebody who should at least be able to help accumulate the info, or if nothing else, send you in the right direction."

"I appreciate it, Grant."

Grant gave Phil the number of a woman in the
Denver
office. Since it wasn't even 7:00 a.m. in
Denver
, he told Phil where she lived, so he could call information if necessary. He added her supervisor's info just in case.

When Grant hung up the phone, Fred stood nearby waiting. "Did he take your advice?"

"Yeah, kind of.
I recommended some big stuff like the National Guard. But that's over his head. He'll need to bring in his superiors."

Fred smiled. "You want to go for a walk again?"

Grant stood, stretched, and tried to stop a yawn that wouldn't quit. "Sure, what's up?"

"The spillways are now full." Fred looked like a kid with his first bicycle. "You wanna go look at 'em again?"

Disaster or no disaster, Grant wanted to see them as much as Fred did.

"Let's go."

* * *

6:15 a.m. -
Hoover
Dam,
Nevada

With the sun having just risen above the horizon, a large group followed Grant and Fred out to the Nevada Spillway, including Governor Jenkins and Commissioner Blackwell and their entourages. A man and a woman with cameras and a separate guy with a video camera had materialized from nowhere and joined the caravan. Grant noticed that there were two helicopters hovering over the dam shooting pictures of the sandbag dike. Both of them, a white one and a blue one, had logos of news organizations stenciled on the sides.