Wet Desert: Tracking Down a Terrorist on the Colorado River

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Wet Desert: Tracking Down a Terrorist on the Colorado River Page 19

by Gary Hansen


  Julie cupped her hand so her husband could hear her. "How long to the houseboat?"

  He shrugged. "We're close. Half hour, maybe less."

  CHAPTER 17

  2:30 p.m. - Hoover Dam, Nevada

  A diesel four-wheel drive pickup with "Las Vegas - Demolition" on the door, led three industrial one-ton trucks with the same insignia down the switchbacks toward the dam. Grant saw the dam security guards wave them into the employee parking lot next to the Nevada spillway. The driver of the pickup jumped out of his truck and came over to where the group waited. He was a tall blond man in Levi's and a t-shirt. He wore lace up work boots. Grant guessed he was in his forties. The guy took off his hard hat with his left hand and reached out his right and Fred Grainger took it.

  "Hi, I'm Todd Fisher." Seven other guys in hard hats crowded up behind Todd.

  "Fred Grainger, site supervisor." Fred pointed to Grant. "And this is Grant Stevens from the Bureau of Reclamation in Denver."

  The three shook hands.

  Todd said, "I understand you have an emergency job for me."

  Fred walked over to the fence by the spillways and pointed to the concrete wall holding back the water. "We need that wall blown as soon as possible."

  Todd whistled for a second. "All that waters going to come charging through here after she blows, ain't it?"

  "That's the whole point." Grant pointed to the other side of the dam. "Oh, and the spillway on the Arizona side will need to be blown too."

  Todd looked at both Fred and Grant. "This is all related to the news on TV about the Glen Canyon Dam, isn't it?"

  Fred nodded.

  Todd looked back at the spillways. "I assume you want me to blow the wall as low as possible to allow the most water through?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Do you guys have any idea how thick the concrete is at the base of that wall?"

  Fred responded. "We found the blue prints while we were waiting."

  Fred turned and one of his employees handed him what looked like a rolled up poster. Fred unrolled it in one motion and Todd and Grant crowded around to get a look.

  Todd spoke first "Wow, that thing is thirty feet high and over eighteen feet thick at the base. Plus the whole thing is full of rebar."

  Fred looked over at Todd. "Can you do it?"

  "Oh, we can break it up, no problem. But the rebar is going to hold all the pieces together. The water pressure might be able to tear it apart, but then again, you may need to get a crane in here to reach down and tear some of it out. We won't know until after the initial explosions."

  Grant groaned. "It'll take hours to get a big crane in here."

  Todd thought about it for a second, "Well, I can always increase the explosives. I won't be able to guarantee a precision job." He smiled. "I might blow the end of this parking lot off." It was said as if Todd blew up parking lots every day.

  Grant and Fred's eyes met, both of their heads were nodding.

  Fred looked back at Todd. "We'll risk the parking lot. How fast can your guys work?"

  Todd turned and talked to one of the other guys in a hard hat. He motioned down into the trough leading to the Nevada spillway tunnel, and to the base of the concrete spillway itself. He pointed over to the Arizona spillway across the river. He walked back to Fred and Grant. "I think we'll be ready to detonate in less than an hour. However, I recommend we blow one spillway at a time, in case we need to make adjustments." Todd smiled.

  * * *

  2:50 p.m. - Lake Powell, Utah

  Greg pointed at the canyon and slowed the boat down. "It's that one."

  Julie looked around "Are you sure? It looks different."

  The trip back from Dangling Rope Marina had been difficult. The amount of boat traffic was unbelievable and during some sections where the lake narrowed, the water was dangerously rough from waves trapped in the channel. They even saw a boat that had capsized. In a couple of places, the water was so low that rocks protruded into the normal boating channels, forcing the traffic to alter its course.

  Greg motioned to Julie and Erika with his hand under his eyes. "Mask your view so you can only see above the water line. Then all the new exposed rock won't confuse you. See? Our houseboat is in the canyon with that big rock sitting in front of that wall of rock. We were just used to seeing it at water level, not forty feet up the slope."

  Julie nodded, trusting her husband, although it didn't look anything like she remembered it.

  As the Mastercraft entered the mouth of the canyon, Greg accelerated. The water was much smoother here than in the main channel. He looked over at Julie "Okay, no dilly-dallying at the houseboat. We get the necessities and get out."

  Julie looked questioningly at her husband. "If we're going all the way up there, why wouldn't we bring the houseboat back with us? What about our deposit? That's thousands of dollars."

  Greg answered immediately. "I'd love to, and I hope we can. But unless Max untied it, the houseboat is gonna be sitting high and dry on the rocks right now, thirty or forty feet above the water line. If so, we couldn't bring it back if we wanted too."

  Julie looked over at Erika and Paul to see if they had heard the same thing. The look on Erika's face was as blank as Julie's. Julie had not thought about that. While she tried to imagine the scene, Greg accelerated again and she leaned back in her seat. Looking over her shoulder she noticed Erika staring behind in a trance. She now dreaded seeing the same houseboat that just a moment before she had been so anxious to see.

  Julie marveled at how much the canyon had changed. Before, it felt more open. Now, with water forty feet lower, the canyon walls were higher and seemed to be closing in on her. The wet canyon walls were darker too.

  The boat banked back and forth for a while as Greg carved deeper into the long canyon. A few times in the past, usually when she was sitting in one of the seats facing backwards, Julie's stomach had been affected by these long canyon excursions. She was all too familiar with the initial feelings of motion sickness, when butterflies started flapping around down there, the clammy skin, the dry mouth, and finally the apprehension that she needed to throw up, followed by relief after she finally did. But, that was not what she felt now. This feeling was worse, a deep pit, almost a pain, in her stomach, caused by heading farther into a canyon, which every bone in her body knew, was the wrong direction. She wanted to be back in the main channel, rough water and all, speeding downstream toward the marina, or better yet, back in the truck, on the road, headed home. She wanted to hug her children.

  They rounded a bend and Greg swerved suddenly hard left. Julie wasn't ready and was thrown out of her seat onto the floor, hitting her head on Greg's hip. Julie rubbed her head and started to get up and she noticed Erika had also been knocked on the floor. The boat slowed quickly.

  "Sorry." Greg reached down and grabbed her arm to help her up. "That was close."

  "What was close?" said Erika from her hands and knees on the floor behind them.

  Greg pointed directly behind the boat, where they had just been. "Look."

  A large boulder was visible just under the surface of the water directly behind them in the exact area where they had swerved. Julie could only imagine what would have happened if Greg had not avoided it.

  Greg grimaced. "I'm going to need to slow down a little."

  There were no arguments from the passengers as they climbed back into their seats. As they rounded the next bend, much slower, Greg pulled the throttle all the way back and the boat coasted, settling back into the water. Julie saw many of the protruding boulders scattered around the channel.

  Greg looked over at Paul. "Hey, can you climb up on the bow and keep an eye out. I don't want to tear up the prop and I can't see how deep it is in front of the boat.

  Paul climbed up on the bow. Julie and Erika stood and watched over the side of the boat. Rocks were everywhere, especially ahead.

  "Hang on," Paul said, pointing off to the right. "It gets too shallow up there. Go over that way." He pointed to the
left.

  Greg reversed the transmission, backing up a few feet, and then headed where Paul pointed. That worked for a while, as Paul guided him through a shallow channel. Greg had to back up a few more times, but they kept going. When they rounded the next bend however, Julie wanted to puke. There were rocks all over the place, but worst of all, the water ended completely about two hundred feet ahead of them on a rocky beach newly exposed by the dropping lake.

  Greg cursed, which was something he never did. "We'll have to go the rest of the way on foot."

  "How far are we?" Erika asked from behind, her voice cracking in mid sentence.

  Greg looked around. "We've got to be close. It can't be more than a couple more bends up the canyon." He bit his lip when he finished talking, something Greg only did when he was nervous. "Why aren't Max and Darlene here, waiting for us?"

  Paul shrugged. "They should be here, unless they got a ride with someone else."

  "Or unless something's wrong," Julie added. "We better park the boat and get going." She had an overwhelming feeling that they needed to hurry.

  Her husband turned and looked at her. "We can't leave the boat Julie. Somebody's going to need to stay with it."

  "Why?" Erika asked.

  "The water's dropping too fast," Greg answered. "We'd get back here and find the boat high and dry. Then we'd never get out of here."

  Julie looked back and forth between the other three. "Then who's staying? You want me or Erika to stay?"

  Erika pointed back toward where they came. "I can't drive the boat back through that."

  Julie realized immediately that she couldn't either. She was great with the boat out in the open, but in close proximity to anything, Greg always had to maneuver it. "It'll get trickier as the water drops." She looked at her husband. "You better stay with the boat."

  Greg looked unhappy, but he nodded, having come to the same conclusion. She could tell he was worried, and that was enough for now.

  "Besides Max and Darlene, what do we need to bring back?" Julie asked.

  Greg counted on his fingers. "Truck keys, my wallet, your purse -"

  "What about clothes?" Julie asked her husband.

  He shrugged. "Don't try to carry too much."

  She looked around the boat for a second, wishing she had a list.

  He pointed back the way they had come. "I need to move the boat back out of here before the water gets any lower. You're going to need your shoes." He pointed at the rocks.

  The comment made perfect sense. Julie reached down and grabbed her sandals. Not great for hiking, but they would have to do. She looked at Erika and Paul who both wore flip-flops.

  "You guys be careful," Greg said. "And hurry."

  She kissed him on the cheek then slid over the side into the water, holding her sandals up so they'd stay dry. Erika and Paul followed. As soon as they were away from the boat, Greg backed it away from them. Julie swam a few strokes toward a rocky strip poking out of the water, then climbed up on it and started walking toward the shoreline in front of them. When she looked back, the boat was already pointed the other direction, Greg was standing on the seat looking at the water in front, steering the boat with his left hand. She waved but he wasn't looking.

  * * *

  3:10 p.m. - Grand Canyon, Arizona

  David decided he liked Ralph. They'd been talking about ten minutes since the rafters returned to where the Germans were sunbathing. He was extremely friendly. Not like the stereotype of stiffness and arrogance he'd expected. Then again David didn't know why he'd expected Germans to act any different anyway. After all, how many had he actually met? He liked Anna too, even after she put her shirt on. She was much quieter than Ralph though, speaking only when spoken to. At first David guessed she didn't speak very much English, but after hearing her speak, she proved she was as fluent as Ralph.

  Ralph had been asking questions about the rafting expedition. "So what will be the total duration of your river trip?"

  "Thirteen days," said Afram.

  "And where do you sleep?"

  "There are campgrounds all along the river. We stop, setup camp, and sleep on the sand in our sleeping bags."

  "Do you recommend the river trip?" Ralph wanted to know.

  Afram looked around at the other rafters. "Yeah, it's great. Real relaxing. But if you want to go, you have to get reservations early, like a year in advance."

  "How did you determine -"

  "The internet." Afram interrupted. "We searched around until we found the deal we wanted."

  David started to get up. "Why don't you and Anna come down to the rafts and we'll introduce you to Keller. Maybe he has a business card he can give you."

  Ralph and Anna both agreed enthusiastically and the group, including their new friends, started back down toward the river.

  * * *

  3:15 p.m. - Hoover Dam, Nevada

  The sound of jackhammers echoed off the canyon walls upstream from Hoover Dam. Todd's crews, one on the Nevada side and one on the Arizona side, wasted no time before cranking up the air compressors in the industrial trucks, tossing air hoses down into the spillways, and starting work. They used jackhammers and impact drills to drill the deep holes into the concrete walls. Todd was down in the spillway pointing to where each hole should be drilled. If there was a science to where Todd had them drilling, Grant didn't recognize it. The holes seemed fairly random. They were focused around the bottom and sides of the wall, with a few vertical lines of holes in the middle, which Grant assumed, were to break up the big wall segments. Each hole was drilled at a slightly downward angle.

  After forty-five minutes of the noise, the sounds stopped. The workers climbed a ladder out of the spillway. They unloaded boxes marked with a yellow triangle on the side of each box and the words "Danger - Explosives." Grant noticed the workers jockeyed the boxes around as if they were just normal building materials.

  He pointed the boxes out to Todd. "Aren't you afraid that stuff will blow up when you throw it around like that?"

  "Nah, this stuff is completely stable, even after we add the propellant, it doesn't get dangerous until you detonate it."

  "So why the big warning labels?"

  "Government mandates it. Some desk pilot that didn't know anything about explosives decided we better handle them like eggshells." Todd smiled at Grant. "The markings do tend to keep people away and make the psychos trying to steal it a little more visible."

  The men handed the boxes down into the spillway. Then one by one they opened the corner of each box and poured what looked like a coarse white powder in each of the holes on the wall. Grant now understood the drilling had been aimed downward so the powder would go into the hole; it would have been harder to fill horizontal holes. It took over ten minutes to fill all the holes with explosives.

  When the holes were full, they passed the remaining boxes up the ladder. The hard hats immediately passed down a few five-gallon gas cans and began pouring the liquid in the holes.

  Grant again approached Todd. "Is that just gasoline?"

  He shook his head. "Kerosene. It burns hotter than normal gas."

  "What else do you put in there?"

  "That's it. Just the detonators and we're done."

  The workers passed the cans up and Todd passed one box, again marked as explosives, down into the spillway. The workers took the detonators and stuffed them in the holes. One guy worked behind them, linking the wires coming out of the detonators together. A longer wire was used to extend from the last detonator up the ladder to where Todd was standing. The box was passed up the ladder, the workers followed, and the ladder was pulled out of the spillway. The workers loaded the remaining materials in the truck and drove the truck out of the parking lot. Todd stood holding what looked like a transistor radio in one hand and the wires in the other.

  "This is where you can blow yourself up if you don't know what you are doing. I suggest you guys clear out of here."

  Grant didn't need any more encouragemen
t. Fred and the other staff from the dam started walking across the parking lot to where the hard hats were waiting. Grant walked over to one of them.

  "What's he doing now?"

  The man pointed. "That little unit in his hand is the receiver for the detonator. First he'll hook it up to the big battery by his feet. It will make some lights illuminate. He'll verify that the detonation light is not illuminated, that would be bad. If it's not, he'll hook up the wires and flip a switch to activate the receiver."

  As the explanation was finishing, Grant saw Todd set the box down walk over to where they were standing.

  Todd nodded. "Okay. We're ready on this side." He reached down and unclipped his radio. "Steve, how're things in Arizona? You guys about ready?"

  The radio responded. "Yeah we're just waiting for you."

  "Okay, I'm gonna blow this side and see if it works, I'll give you the word."

  "We'll be waiting."

  Todd took another black box out of his pocket and flipped a switch. Grant saw a green light illuminate. Todd pressed another button and a red light started blinking. Without looking back Todd yelled, "Cover your ears." He waited a couple seconds and pressed another button.

  Grant saw gray and black dust shoot high in the air in multiple directions. A fraction of a second later, the sound of the explosion reached them. The dull noise offended Grant's ears even though they were covered. He felt the impact of the explosion over his entire body, especially in his chest. As he dropped his hands he heard a sparkling sound like crystals and looked to his right and noticed that some windows were broken in the snack bar. While Grant was still verifying that he was alive, the workers jostled past him, jogging toward the spillway, led by Todd. Grant followed.

  When he reached the spillway, he could hear the water and loud banging noises like rocks hitting each other. Most of the wall had been opened up. Rebar was hanging from the walls on both sides. The water was dragging and rolling concrete remnants of the wall into the huge spillway. The moving water seemed to be clearing out most of the concrete dust in the air. The water level appeared to be about half of the way up the culvert. But even that was an amazing amount of water to behold as it crashed down into the spillway. Each Hoover spillway was capable of almost 200,000 cubic feet per second, about the same as Niagara Falls, and he guessed it was currently running at about half, which was more than the total amount of all Hoover's turbines combined, plus the twelve outlets spraying across the canyon. He estimated the spillway, plus all the other gates that were open, had increased the normal downstream flow from Hoover by a factor of ten. Looking down the spillway, he couldn't help but feel that the water was going to suck him, and the parking lot as well, down its fifty-foot hole.

 

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