Wet Desert: Tracking Down a Terrorist on the Colorado River

by Gary Hansen

  Up ahead the river widened. A dam was barely visible downstream - Headgate Rock Dam. Headgate Rock was only fourteen miles below Parker Dam. The resulting reservoir, LakeMoovalya, was even smaller than he expected. In fact, it hardly seemed like a lake at all.

  Only one hotel, the Bluewater Casino, had been built on the banks of the lake. Since the casino sat on the Arizona side of the river, Grant knew it had to be owned by the Indians. In fact, that explained why it was the only structure on the lower part of the lake. The land was probably part of the Colorado River Indian reservation.

  The hotel was huge with walls of glass facing the lake. A medium-sized marina extended from the hotel. On the river's edge sat a small shack with a bar right on the river. However, all was not right with the Bluewater Casino. The jetty supporting the bar was underwater, only visible from the helicopter. Two men sloshed through waste-deep water with armfuls of bottles from the bar. The docks in the marina floated and were safe, but the base of the hotel and the dockside sidewalks were underwater.

  On his right Grant could see where the highway bordering the west side of the lake now ran right down into the water. Stranded cars had stopped and their drivers stood next to them. No boats could be seen on the small lake.

  "Now I know why they call it Headgate Rock Dam," said Lloyd.

  Grant nodded in agreement. In the middle of the river channel, just past the Bluewater Casino, was a large black rock formation, obviously Headgate Rock. On the west side of the rock, stretching to the Californiashore, was an earth dike, topped with dark red and black rocks. On the east side, slightly downstream from Headgate Rock, was the concrete waterworks including seven square spillways. A smaller earth fill dike connected the concrete structure to the big rock. Like Parker, this dam had a large square concrete structure above each square spillway to pull the head gates up into. Unlike Parker, the head gates were already up all the way.

  Lloyd's voice was in the headphones. "Where do you want me to put us?"

  "When we get closer, slow down a little, get a little lower, then fly across the downstream side of it. It looks like the water hasn't breached yet. We're going to be just in time to see this fiasco." Grant wondered why it hadn't breached yet. He'd expected the water to be high enough already.

  Without looking back, Grant spoke into the headphones. "Shauna, didn't we expect the dam to be getting topped by now?"

  "Yeah, but only a few minutes ago." As she spoke, the helicopter flew over the crest of the dam.

  Grant had meant to look down, check out the spillways, and assess the dam itself, but something else had caught his eye. Immediately below Headgate Rock Dam, right in the river bottoms on the Arizona side, was a whole community of mobile homes. They were packed together like sardines, stretching all the way down toward a railroad bridge about a mile downstream. They would be obliterated when the dam let go. It was unavoidable and he knew it. He didn't see any people walking around. Hopefully they had cleared out. If not, there would be many more floating bodies.

  When he finally looked down, the spillways were blasting. "Wow, look at 'em. No wonder it hasn't breached yet. They're dumping a ton of water. They must have lowered the lake to get ready." He turned and looked over his shoulder at Shauna. "What's the exact capacity of those spillways?"

  "Originally they were designed for 200,000 cubic feet per second, but when they modified the dam to generate electricity, they actually built the water works into a couple of the spillways. That reduced their total capacity to around a 140,000."

  Grant considered the numbers. Headgate Rock could handle a 140,000, and almost 500,000 was headed for it. It did not take a genius to understand that Headgate Rock Dam was not going to survive.

  "Hey, should those guys be standing down there?" Grant recognized the FBI agent's voice in the headphones. He turned and saw her point off to what was now their right side, as the helicopter had turned and now faced upstream.

  Lloyd pivoted the helicopter slightly and Grant saw that a pickup had driven down the steep road and parked in the small parking lot near the generation plant. Three men stood by the truck looking up at the dam. One of them wore a yellow hard hat. The truck was close enough for Grant to make out BIA on the truck door, for Bureau of Indian Affairs.

  Shauna answered. "No, they shouldn't be there. If the dam breaks on that side, they won't stand a chance."

  Grant heard the pilot's voice. "How much time do we have?"

  "It can't be long. Let's fly back over the crest and see if we can see any low points."

  The helicopter tilted forward and dropped toward the dam.

  "Look on the left side of the spillways," yelled Shauna, a little too loud for the headphones.

  Grant saw a small stream of water was now running over the top of the cement.

  "It's on both sides now," said Agent Williams.

  "Does that mean the concrete part of the dam is what's going to fail?" asked Lloyd, somewhat unsure of himself.

  Grant shook his head. "No, the dikes are way softer. The water's going to carve into that gravel right next to the concrete. They would have been much better off if they had listened to us, and broken the dike themselves. Now it looks like it's going to break right next to the concrete."

  "Is that bad?"

  "It might be. Remember this flood will last for two months. With all that water flowing right next to the structure, it'll definitely damage it."

  "Look," Shauna said. "It's starting to carve into the banks. Look how dirty the water's getting."

  Grant saw that the volume of water had increased substantially over the top of the concrete. He remembered the truck and the three men. "We better get back and tell those guys to get outta there." He looked over at the pilot. "You got a PA in this thing?"

  "Sure thing."

  The helicopter banked hard and flew back toward the truck. Grant saw that the men hadn't stayed put, but had walked closer to the dam. As Lloyd maneuvered the helicopter lower, the rotors blew toward the men, making them put their arms in front of their faces.

  Lloyd flipped a switch and gave Grant a quick thumbs up, before grabbing back onto the controls. At first Grant didn't know what to do, expecting a hand-held mic. He looked over at Lloyd, confused.

  "Just speak," said the pilot, and Grant heard Lloyd's voice from the outside as well as through the headphones.

  Grant tried to remember what he needed to say. "People, the dam is about to break."

  None of them seemed to be looking as they shielded their eyes from the turbulence.

  "Please, hurry back to your truck and get clear of the area!"

  Incredibly, one of the three men, the one in the hard hat, waved the helicopter aside. They weren't moving. Grant looked over at Lloyd and the pilot shrugged. The man continued motioning for the helicopter to move.

  Lloyd flipped the PA switch off. "What do you want me to do?"

  Grant was angry. "We warned them. What else can we do?"

  Lloyd immediately lifted the helicopter out of their way. Grant wondered if the man was the moron Shauna had talked to on the phone at the Bureau of Indian Affairs. That guy was an idiot. She had tried everything to reason with him. But the guy wouldn't budge. He kept telling Shauna there wasn't any way he was going to intentionally break his own dam. Deep down, Shauna didn't think the guy actually believed Headgate Rock Dam would fail. He had chosen to not believe it, as if that would prevent the whole tragedy from happening.

  As soon as Lloyd had moved the chopper out of their way the men continued walking toward the concrete structure.

  "Look, there are two more guys over by the spillways," Agent Williams said.

  Sure enough, two men stood next to the spillways. Grant wondered if they had been inside the structure a few minutes before.

  Lloyd moved the helicopter higher and back toward the concrete structure. Looking up where the breach first occurred, Grant saw that over five feet of water was pouring over the top of the structure, both edges being noticeably dirty w
ater. He wondered if the five idiots below had noticed the breach.

  Grant reached over in front of the pilot and flipped the PA switch himself. "Attention below. Look up at the top of the structure. The dam is breaking apart.Get out of there! Now!" He flipped the switch back down.

  One of the two guys by the spillways pointed up toward the breach, and the other shielded his eyes and looked up too. The water was now tearing into the dike on the right side of the dam. Both men started running toward the pickup.

  "About time," Shauna said, obviously relieved.

  However, when the two men reached the three who had arrived in the truck, they argued. Grant could tell by their body language, plus they were all waving their arms and pointing. Grant saw the guy with the hard hat shake his head back and forth.

  "That idiot doesn't think it's going to fail," said Grant

  "Look at the dam," cried Shauna.

  Grant looked up in time to see a large piece of the gravel dam break off and fall into the river that was now tearing into the dike on the right of the spillways. Looking down, he saw water standing where the two men had stood only moments before. Glancing to his left, he saw that the two men had abandoned the argument and were running toward the steep road out of the parking lot. But the three that arrived in the truck stood still, gazing up at the spectacle.

  "We're gonna have to watch these idiots die, aren't we?" It was Agent Williams' voice in the headphones.

  Grant looked up again in time to see another large chunk of earth slough off. Grant estimated the water to now be ten feet deep into the dike. It looked like the stream was equal to one of the spillways. The entire stream was now dark brown from the debris it was cutting.

  "Looks like two of them got religion," Lloyd said.

  Grant glanced over and saw two of them running, but the guy with the yellow hard hat stood still, staring up at the dam.

  When Grant looked back at the dam, he couldn't believe how fast the flow had increased. He'd only taken his eyes off of it for a few seconds. It seemed twice as big as a moment ago. Yet now it dwarfed the volume of the spillways. Another large section broke off and was swept out immediately. Grant could now see LakeMoovalya through the cut.

  "Oh my . . ." It was Shauna's voice.

  "It's history," said Lloyd.

  For the next few moments, Grant could only stare. The volume of surging water grew at an alarming rate. Large chunks of the dike fell every couple of seconds. A part of him wanted to look down to see if the guy in the hard hat ran, and make sure the others had made it, but his eyes wouldn't let him. They stayed glued to the scene unfolding in front of him. Time stood still. In one final motion, a fifty-foot-wide piece of the dike let go, and the Colorado River broke loose and barreled down the riverbed in a large wave of frothy brown water. The first two guys had climbed up the road far enough to be safe. The next two had reached the truck and were climbing in the back, even as a wave of water smashed into the side of it. The truck started moving and swapped ends. Within moments Grant guessed the water would pull the truck off the elevated parking lot and into the channel. There was no sign of the guy in the hard hat.

  "Those guys in the back of the truck need help!" Agent Williams yelled.

  Grant saw the truck swap ends again and teeter dangerously as the water moved it toward the edge. Both men waved their arms back and forth. Lloyd reacted and the helicopter headed toward them.

  "What are you gonna do?" Grant asked.

  Lloyd concentrated ahead on the men. "Their only chance is to grab onto our landing gear."

  As they accelerated toward the truck, the truck jerked sideways and one of the men fell into the water. The other one reached over the side and quickly pulled him back in.

  "Hurry," cried Shauna from behind.

  When the helicopter arrived, before the two men could reach out, the chopper dropped quickly and the landing gear hit the top of the pickup's cab, putting a large dent in it. The impact scared the two men, making them hesitate. Grant could see the terror in their eyes, since they were only a few feet away.

  "Why'd you do that?" asked Grant.

  Lloyd brought the landing gear over the men's heads and they both grabbed on. Grant couldn't see them anymore, since they were on the pilot's side.

  "I had to ground us first," said Lloyd, not taking his eyes off them. "The rotors build up static electricity. We could have electrocuted 'em."

  Grant saw that Lloyd was lifting them toward the cliffs above the dam, although the motion was so smooth that Grant felt no acceleration. He wondered how many times Lloyd had done this trick in Vietnam, and how many years it had been since his last attempt.

  Grant turned and looked back at Shauna, who sat crouched over looking out at the men hanging on the landing gear. He saw her nodding her head and mouthing words of encouragement to them.

  "How're they doing?" Grant asked.

  "Hurry," she coaxed, ignoring the question.

  When Grant looked forward again, he saw the helicopter had reached the height of the cliffs. Lloyd moved the helicopter sideways until they were over dry land, then lowered slightly.

  "They let go," said Shauna. "They're okay."

  Lloyd set the chopper down and the men approached, still crouching. Grant saw that the first two had hiked to the top of the road and now came running toward them. Lloyd opened his door.

  "Thanks, Mister," one of the men yelled. He was a Native American. All of them were.

  "What happened to your friend in the hard hat?" asked Lloyd, also yelling.

  "He didn't think it would fail," he answered. "The water got him."

  "Well, you guys almost waited too long yourselves."

  They both smiled, not in happiness, but in relief. Grant could see their faces. They knew they were lucky to be alive.

  Lloyd shut the door and the chopper took off.

  "Let's make one more pass over the dam," said Grant.

  Grant watched as they headed back toward Headgate Rock Dam. The whole area beneath the dam was now flooded and white caps were visible. The cut in the dam now stretched over a hundred feet from the left side of the spillways. The water level in LakeMoovalya had dropped almost fifteen feet and was no longer breaching the concrete.

  Grant shook his head. "Idiots. We warned 'em."

  Lloyd spoke without turning his head. "Some guys can't be told. They have to figure it out for themselves."

  "Unfortunately," said Grant, "the guy in the hard hat is dead because of that."

  When the helicopter passed back over the broken dam, Lloyd looked over. "You want to see anything else?"

  Grant shook his head. "No, let's go. Head downstream."

  When the helicopter pivoted and pointed downstream, Grant could see the community of mobile homes for the first time since the dam had broken. The entire row of homes bordering the river was gone, torn out. A couple of them drifted in the middle of the channel, but the bulk of them were piled up against the railroad bridge downstream. Most of the second row of mobile homes had held, but water pushed against them. Then, as Grant watched, the second row let go like dominoes, and the river pulled them out into the channel.

  A large group of people stood up on the Arizona bank, out of the danger. Even at a distance, Grant saw a couple of them cover their eyes with their hands. Another had his hands on top of his head. The group was large and Grant guessed they were the inhabitants of the trailer park. He imagined there would be lawsuits against the Bureau of Indian Affairs for not breaking the dam earlier.

  Lloyd had been hovering, allowing them to witness the destruction below. Finally he looked over at Grant. Grant understood the unspoken question.

  "Go ahead. I've seen enough. Head downstream toward the next one. Hopefully they listened to us and busted their dam already. I don't think any of us want a repeat performance."

  Lloyd's reaction, as usual, was immediate. The helicopter banked and headed downstream.

  * * *

  12:40 p.m. - Farmland, south of
Parker, Arizona

  Daniel Tahbo shifted the Massey Ferguson into high gear and his long black hair blew in the wind as the tractor accelerated. His father didn't like Daniel to use the high gear of the old tractor on gravel roads. The bumps would rattle the tractor to pieces. But Daniel's father worried too much. Everybody knew that. Besides, Daniel was already 15 years old. He would have his license in another year, and he had been driving tractors since he was eight. He could tell when the road was too rough. He knew where all the bumps were on the road, and could easily dodge them.

  Daniel's father would not approve of this trip anyway. Daniel needed to hurry, hook onto the ditcher, and take it back to the house. If Daniel's father caught him, he would be furious, but after he made it home safe with the ditcher, and his father discovered it later, he'd be happy. Sure he'd still grumble and swear and tell Daniel he'd acted like an idiot, but he'd be pleased to have the ditcher just the same. Daniel would retrieve the ditcher and be home before the river flooded.

  The three hundred acre Tahbo farm was part of the Colorado Indian Reservation, a small farm compared to most of the neighbors. They worked hard on their farm, too hard to lose the ditcher in the flood. Daniel had argued this fact with his father that morning, but his father was a stubborn man. His father believed in the old ways, simple and conservative, no unnecessary risks.

  Although the Tahbo farm was small, it was good land, right next to the Colorado River, and only two miles south of the bluffs. The family had great water rights too, being so close to Headgate Rock Dam, where the canal was diverted from the river.

  Daniel's father was nervous, with the terrorists and all. Ever since the bombing the day before, the farmers had talked of nothing else. Who blew it up? Why? When would the water reach the reservation? How bad would it flood the farms? How fast would the soil recover? Would the government help? If so, how much? His father had attended a meeting the night before at the high school with representatives from the Bureau of Indian Affairs. The officials had practically guaranteed that Headgate Rock Dam was safe, but his father did not believe them.