by Gary Hansen
She wished she could see over to the main channel. What would it look like, with the water so low? Maybe it was too low to permit entry into WahweapBay. What if there was some sort of obstruction? What if there were still boats heading south, but they were all being swept over the remains of the dam? She hoped that was not true. She wondered how many people actually had been pulled over during the night. It was unreasonable to believe that nobody had. What if fifty people had died last night? What if a hundred?
"You're awake?"
Julie turned to see Erika walking down the ramp from above, with Paul following behind.
"You ready for breakfast?" Erika asked.
Julie was starving. "Is the restaurant open?" She couldn't imagine it was.
"They're not cooking, with the power out. But they put out some bagels and fruit on a table for the people that are arriving." Erika reached over and ran her fingers through Julie's hair. "Were you able to sleep much last night, with everything going on?"
Julie shook her head. "I might have gotten 15 minutes." She remembered the night being a series of boaters debating whether to ground their boats like the Crawfords had, then after finally doing it, walking up and down the ramp talking to anyone who would talk.
Greg pointed up the ramp. "Has anyone said anything about clearing this off?" He motioned at the slimy surface.
Paul shook his head. "Everybody is asking about it, but I didn't hear any answers."
"Have you seen any equipment show up? Any cranes?"
Paul shook his head.
Greg pointed at the Mastercraft. "Can you watch the boat? I want to go talk to some people."
Erika held out her hands. "That's why we came down here. We'll watch the boat while you guys go up and get something to eat, and get cleaned up. Take your time."
Julie liked the idea. She pulled Greg along and started up the hill.
* * *
8:00 a.m. - Hoover Dam, Nevada
The governor had arranged for breakfast to be brought in from the Hacienda Casino. A group of men wearing white shirts and hats carried in the long rectangular silver platters with lids. They set up a buffet along the west wall of the visitor center with a stack of plates on one end. The aroma of sausage, bacon, and maple syrup drifted through the visitor center.
Grant's entire body begged for sleep, and he'd actually considered allowing himself to take a quick nap, but that was before the food arrived. Another urge, more powerful than sleep, changed his mind. His last meal had been cut brutally short by the second bombing. And his stomach now told him that a breakfast buffet took priority over naps and dam discussions.
He, Shauna, and Fred lined up behind Governor Jenkins and Commissioner Blackwell's parties. Phil's team from the FBI lined up behind them. Grant scooped liberally from the first platter, which was filled with bacon and sausage.
"Easy on the cholesterol," Fred said, smiling.
Grant picked up one of the links with his fingers and took a bite. "Hmm . . . That was worth at least a year of my life."
Shauna smiled. "Don't laugh. It may have cost you a year."
Grant looked over at her. "Since it was my last year, I probably saved myself a year of cancer and chemotherapy."
"Pass the sausage," Fred said, laughing.
With no large table, everyone found wherever they could to sit. Grant's group found three chairs over by the wall. The whole lobby was surprisingly silent as they ate. Grant had to force himself to eat slowly enough to chew. He noticed that even Shauna ate like she didn't know where her next meal would come from.
About half way through breakfast, the governor stood. "Ladies and gentlemen, attention please. I've just received word that phase one of Hoover-Two is officially completed."
The crowd erupted with clapping and some yells. Grant couldn't believe the governor used the "Hoover-Two" nickname.
When the noise settled, the governor continued. "As you know, without Hoover-Two, there would be a waterfall all the way across Hoover Dam right now." More cheers and a couple of playful boos could be heard.
"If all goes well today, the Bureau," Grant noticed that the governor motioned to where he sat, not to where Roland's team sat, "the Bureau expects Hoover Dam and Hoover-Two to be holding back Lake Mead at an elevation of twelve hundred forty four and a half feet, which would be twelve feet over the top of the original Hoover Dam." More applause.
"And some time in the next sixty days, we expect the lake to have dropped back below the concrete, after which Hoover-Two will be torn down again." Grant could tell by looking around that not all had expected it to take that long.
The governor continued. "So, since this is a historic moment, I need everybody to walk out right now," he motioned, "and we're going to take a picture in front of Hoover-Two. Come on. Your breakfasts will wait."
With many still chewing, the group headed out the doors of the visitor center.
Almost an hour later, after the photos were taken and the breakfast was cleaned up, Grant inquired of Shauna as to what was happening downstream. He felt satisfied with what they had accomplished at Hoover and was starting to worry more about downriver.
She pushed her glasses up on her nose and paged through a bound notebook, stopping on her latest entry. "A little before 7:30 a.m., the levels stabilized at Davis Dam. We think the spillways have caught up to Hoover."
Grant considered the information. "Caught up?"
"Yeah. Davis handled the flood, and passed it on, just as we hoped it would."
"Any damage?"
Shauna hesitated. "Well, the level of LakeMojave didn't rise that far, so --"
Grant interrupted, "I meant downstream."
Shauna read from her notebook. "They're reporting major flooding in the casinos in Laughlin along the river, including the Edgewater, Colorado Bell, Golden Nugget, and the Riverdale Resort." She looked up briefly. "Basically, anything on the edge of the river is getting inundated. They said that the Colorado Bell has four feet of water running through the lobby."
Grant shook his head. "Ouch. Two months of that and some of those hotels will be floating down the river."
Shauna continued reading from her notebook. "The cities of Laughlin and BullheadCity spent quite a bit of time sandbagging in preparation, and except for the buildings near the river, they've held. So there are a few wet places in the cities, but the major flooding has been contained to the river."
"Well, I guess that's good news."
Shauna continued. "However, just south of Riverfront Drive . . ." She motioned around with her hand. ". . . where the river curves east, it overflowed and flooded out the
Needles Highway
."
"Any damage farther down?" Grant asked.
"Maximum flow hasn't got to Needles yet, but we expect it during the next hour. I-40 and the Burlington Northern & Santa Fe Railroad's main lines go right next to the river there. The railroad's been trying to build dikes around the tracks for the last 18 hours, but they're afraid it's hopeless. It's their main east-west corridor out of the shipyards in Los Angeles. They average over 25 trains a day through there. A flood would shut 'em down."
Grant rubbed his eyes. "What's next downstream?"
"South of Needles, the river flows into LakeHavasu. Havasu's already rising fast, but it's going to double when maximum flow hits at around . . ." She turned the page and searched with her finger. ". . . 11:00 a.m. The lake will then quickly fill and top out sometime between 11:30 and 11:45 a.m."
Grant looked confused. "That doesn't sound right. The lake fills up less than an hour after peak flows get there?"
Shauna looked up. "It's right. Havasu is pretty small comparatively. Only 18,000 acres, compared to Hoover, which is more than ten times bigger. Plus, ever since Davis Dam opened its spillways early this morning, Havasu has been getting a full 500,000 cubic feet per second."
Grant thought about the damage being done in Laughlin to the casinos and the flooding by Needles. He wondered what kind of damage t
he railroad would sustain. He wanted to be at Parker Dam and make sure everything was done correctly. He looked at his watch. Here at Hoover, water levels would not peak until later in the evening. Today was going to be a disaster downstream. He had already written off two dams that he thought would fail downstream in the afternoon, not to mention the desalination plant at the Imperial Dam that they needed to protect. They might need him downstream. It was someplace where he could help out. Besides, the terrorists seemed to be moving that direction anyway. Grant made a quick decision. He was leaving.
"We'll be there when Havasu fills," he said. He noticed her head come up abruptly from her notebook. "You can come too. We need to be at Parker Dam when the spillways reach capacity." He hesitated, then added, "In case something comes up."
"What about Hoover-Two?" she said, almost pleading. "Who'll monitor the rising water levels?"
Grant motioned to Fred. "Fred'll take care of it. His guys can forward you the numbers. I want you to stay with me. I may need some quick calculations." He waved at Hoover Dam. "It's too late to do anything here. Hoover-Two is going to either hold or fail this afternoon, and it's too late for us to make a difference either way."
She hitched her glasses up on her nose and casually paged through her notebook, but Grant knew she wasn't really looking for anything.
"Don't worry," he said. "We can't be everywhere. Downstream is where we need to be. If there's anything to be done it will be down there."
Grant pointed at Fred. "I need another helicopter. See if you can reserve it for the whole day. And I'd better call the FBI and tell them I'm leaving."
Fred smiled. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
Grant shrugged. "What?"
"Don't you need to tell the commissioner?"
CHAPTER 31
8:20 a.m. - Hoover Dam, Nevada
"You're what?" The commissioner looked shocked.
"I'm going downstream to the other dams, to make sure everything gets done," Grant replied.
Roland motioned out the windows toward Hoover-Two and the monumental effort in process to complete the second phase of sandbags in time. "What about that?"
Grant shrugged. "My part is done. They can handle it from here."
"You are not done!" the commissioner yelled. "This project is far from finished, and we are far from being out of the woods, and you are responsible."
Grant held out his palms. "I'm not doing anything. They don't need me anymore."
The commissioner yelled, "Then start doing something. Go make sure they are doing everything right. Make sure we're not going to run out of sandbags. Make sure we are building it fast enough. Make sure we have enough volunteers. Who is doing all that?"
"It's all being handled. The governor's people are handling the sandbags, and the National Guard is managing the dike. They are all doing a great job. It's under control."
"Yeah, but what if something goes wrong? What if the water rises too fast or the dike breaks? These people consider you their leader, even the governor. Who would they go to?"
"Fred," Grant said. "He is taking over while I'm gone."
The commissioner turned on him. "Fred Grainger? What the hell does he know? They're not going to consider him in charge. He's not a dam builder."
Grant had had it. "How about you, Roland? You're here, aren't you? What about the other executives? Are they all worthless? How much more horsepower do you need?"
The commissioner looked surprised.
Grant continued, "Right now we have major flooding occurring downstream in Laughlin and Needles. Bridges and railroads are going to be lost. People will die. We will likely lose three dams this afternoon, maybe four if we don't manage them correctly. Are you going to go down there and take care of those problems?"
Roland had no response.
"I didn't think so." Grant pointed at him. "You belong here, in the limelight, with the governor and the cameras. I'm leaving. I'm going to try to save some dams downstream. If you get in trouble, call me." He held up the cell phone. "And I'll tell you what to do."
Commissioner Blackwell said nothing as Grant walked away.
* * *
8:40 a.m. - Grand Canyon, Arizona
David felt Judy stiffen on the ledge.
"What's that?" she asked.
David heard it too. It was the unmistakable sound of a helicopter. "Thank God!"
All three of them were physically and emotionally exhausted from the events of the night before and the lack of sleep. David was still cold and over the last hour had become incredibly thirsty. He craved a hot cup of coffee. Finally, they would be rescued.
When the helicopter rounded the bend downstream and became visible, it was much lower than they expected, flying just above the river.
All three of them waved their arms frantically. They jostled on the small space to prevent knocking each other over.
"OVER HERE!" David yelled.
Afram waved his arms back and forth to try to get the helicopter's attention, but the helicopter was too far below them. It could not see them. It was obviously flying low to search along the river. The eyes of the searchers were surely aimed downward. When it passed by them, they could only see the rotors. The three rafters continued to wave and scream as it passed. A moment later, it had flown upstream and around the bend.
"I don't believe it," Afram said.
Judy wiped at her forehead. "They didn't see us."
David spoke the obvious. "We're in big trouble."
* * *
9:30 a.m. - Hoover Dam, Nevada
The helicopter had "Las Vegas Tours" painted across the side just like the last one. It would stay with them throughout the day. The owner had been all over the idea of an all-day charter. With the rotor still spinning, Grant climbed into the front seat and restrained his urge to reach out and shake the pilot's hand, since the pilot didn't seem to have a free one.
"You Grant Stevens?" said the pilot without looking at him.
The pilot wore wire rim sunglasses and sported a full beard and mustache. The earphones he wore held his shoulder-length hair out of his face. Although not long, the beard was scraggly and the growth on his neck had not been trimmed. The tour company shirt was clean and pressed, and looked out of place with the man's worn jeans and tennis shoes. Grant guessed his age in the mid fifties.
"That's me," Grant yelled to be heard above the rotors.
He saw Shauna jump in one of the rear seats, place the computer case down by her feet and pull the door shut.
Grant pointed back toward the visitor center. "We're waiting for one more person."
The pilot pointed at the headphones hanging on the console. "Put those on."
Grant complied and positioned the microphone in front of his mouth.
"Makes it easier to talk." Grant heard the voice in the headphones and he noticed the guy was smiling at him. "I'm Lloyd."
Grant motioned for Shauna to put on her headphones.
"So I understand the first destination is Parker Dam?" said Lloyd. "What about after that?"
Grant looked over at him and could see he was genuinely interested. "We'll follow the river. There are a few small dams downstream from Parker. We'll probably stop at a few of those. Eventually there's Imperial Dam down by Yuma. We'll probably go at least that far."
Lloyd nodded with an excited look on his face. "I hear things are getting a little outta control downstream."
Grant sensed Lloyd was anxious to be going with them. "You know it. How'd you get assigned to us for the day, anyway?"
"Volunteered," Lloyd said, smiling. "I would have killed to get this gig."
Grant looked at Lloyd's eyes and decided he might be telling the truth. "Why?" Grant asked, although he thought he could guess the answer.
Lloyd looked at Grant as if he was his counselor. "I started flying choppers for the rush, the excitement. Flying low with bullets zinging past my head in Nam upped the ante. But since Nam . . ." He stared straight ahead. "It's not what it u
sed to be. The most excitement I ever get anymore is when I'm flying around at night while somebody joins the mile-high club in the back seat."
Grant turned back toward Shauna, hoping she hadn't put her headphones on yet, but saw that she had, and that her eyes had grown at Lloyd's comment. The Vietnam story fit perfectly with Lloyd's looks. Grant wondered for a moment if they were safe, but remembered hearing that helicopter pilots who survived Vietnam were the best in the world, able to fly over a hundred miles an hour only inches off the ground.
"Yesterday, they had me flying down in the Grand Canyon. You know, to warn the rafters about the flood. That was good. We never get to fly that low in the canyon. I almost got my feet wet." Lloyd's teeth showed a devilish smile, one that Grant was glad Shauna couldn't see. Lloyd pointed over Grant's shoulder. "Is that your other passenger?"
Grant turned and saw a small female FBI agent in blue coveralls running crouched toward the helicopter. When she looked up, he recognized her as Agent Susan Williams, the one who'd met him at Davis Dam the night before. "That's her," he said into the microphone.
The pilot watched the woman approach the chopper and suddenly his jaw dropped and his expression showed fear for the first time. "Are you guys all FBI?" He must have seen the insignia on Agent William's coveralls. His nervousness made Grant wonder if Lloyd was hiding something under the seat.
Grant suppressed the laugh and smiled instead. "No, Shauna and I are with the Bureau of Reclamation out of Denver. The dam builders," he added for clarification.
"Hi," said Shauna, speaking for the first time.
"Hello, Miss."
Grant continued, "Agent Williams is an explosives expert from the FBI. She's coming along in case we encounter the bad guys or another bomb."
Lloyd's eyes lit up. "You think we might run into some explosives today?"
Grant heard the door shut behind him. He turned and smiled at Agent Williams. She returned the smile briefly, then reached for the seatbelt. Shauna reached over and handed her a pair of headphones. Grant felt the turbine accelerate and heard the sound of the rotors increase.