Wet Desert: Tracking Down a Terrorist on the Colorado River (17 page)

Grant stood at the windows overlooking the dam, or what was left of it. The water had torn almost all the way to the east side. Again, a section over a hundred feet long jutted out, ready to snap at any moment. This time the whole group stood watching, even the FBI agents.

"Why isn't it breaking off?" Phil asked.

"It will," said Grant. "Keep watching."

"Look at all the water down the canyon." Brian pointed downstream.

Grant looked and noticed that most of the mist was gone. He hadn't realized it until just now. The clear visibility allowed a good view into the canyon. The huge waterfall into the canyon had transformed, over the last hour, into a more gradual drop, gradual being a relative word describing a drop of over a hundred feet. With the water downstream four hundred feet above normal, the water didn't have to drop very far. Looking downstream at the new river, Grant saw an outcropping of rock break off and fall into the river.

"It's going," yelled one of the FBI agents in coveralls, pointing to the dam.

Grant turned in time to see the huge section of concrete falling into the river. The piece made a big splash and then it was gone. The loud sound followed a moment later. The only evidence of the break was the impact waves that dispersed quickly as they radiated downstream.

Grant looked around at the group. "The Glen Canyon Dam is no more." He checked his watch, 9:58 a.m. He thought to himself that he had only missed estimating the time by 28 minutes - not bad. No one said anything for a few moments.

"Guess I need to start looking for a new job," said Brian, the security guard.

His boss, Dan, looked at him. "Nobody said you were fired."

Brian looked back at his boss. "You better start looking too, boss. There ain't nothing left to guard here."

Dan's eyebrows came up as the realization sunk in.

Phil patted Brian on the back. "There's going to be a lot of Looky-Lou's for months. Somebody's got to guard this place. You guys'll be fine for a while."

The comment didn't seem to make them look any happier.

* * *

Julie wanted to stop, but there were only a few steps more to go. She kept climbing and used her hand on the sheer rock wall on her left. Her husband and Paul watched her from above, and the breathing grunts and sounds of shoes on rock told her Erika was just behind. Her calves and thighs burned, but she tried to bury that thought or she knew she wouldn't make it. She had taken her t-shirt off as well, and she could feel her hair swishing through the slimy perspiration on her back.

"A few more steps, baby," Greg encouraged.

"Come on, Erika," Paul coaxed.

And then Julie reached the summit. She turned and held her hand out to Erika and pulled her up the last step. Both women stood and looked down the way they had come, breathing heavily. The notch seemed almost vertical back down to the boats and water below, forcing Julie to take a step backwards from the edge. The water looked inviting though, and made Julie
wish
she were already back at the bottom.

Her husband moved beside her. "Incredible view, isn't it?"

Julie agreed, but shook her head. "It wasn't worth it, though."

Her husband looked shocked,
then
put his arm around her. "Come on! You did great. We did it in less than an hour."

Erika spoke for the first time since reaching the top. "That was nuts. No wonder we never did this before."

Paul held out his hands. "It wasn't that bad."

Erika turned on her husband. "How would you know?" she shot back. "You're an animal."

Julie started to laugh. Erika's expression finally softened,
then
she and the men laughed as well.

Julie felt dizzy. "I need to sit down."

Greg led her over to a small rock ledge, which made a perfect bench. Julie sat, even though the rock was hot. Her legs trembled. Erika came over and sat next to her. The plateau was nothing but barren red rock hills for miles in every direction. A couple of hundred yards away was a small gravel parking lot for jeeps and other four-wheel drive vehicles that had driven to the spot. The lot was empty. The rock was burning Julie's legs so she stood and put her t-shirt under her and sat back down. She unscrewed the lid on her canteen and drank. She poured a small amount in her hair, and it felt wonderful. If only she had more, she would douse her whole body.

"How long do you want to stay up here?" Greg asked.

Julie wished again she were already
back
down in the water. "I don't want to stay here at all. But I'm not hiking back down until I rest for a while."

Paul pointed to something over by the parking lot. "There's a plaque over there that talks about how the Mormons got their oxen and stagecoaches down. We could go read it." He sounded hopeful.

"The Mormons were nuts, if they took wagons down there," Erika stated flatly.

Greg patted his wife on the back. "Well, I can see that we've got two pissed off women here. What's it gonna take to get you two in a good mood?"

Julie looked up at her husband. "Carry me back down."

He turned and crouched. "Okay, get on."

She cocked her head. "You're serious?"

He motioned onto his back with his thumb. "Get on!"

She decided to play along. She stood and climbed on her husband's back. Greg stood. Paul had done the same for Erika, and she climbed on his back.

"We're going down now?" Erika asked.

Greg brayed like a donkey.
"Piggy back to the plaque.
Piggy back to the plaque."
He brayed again and started galloping roughly toward the parking lot. Paul followed. The girls spurred their husbands and giggled.

CHAPTER 13

10:05 a.m. -
Glen
Canyon
Dam,
Arizona

With the dam completely collapsed, Grant knew he needed to move on, downstream. They weren't doing all the things necessary downstream, he was sure of it. He looked down river and saw another outcropping of rock break off the canyon wall and
fall
into the river. The river was a raging menace. The canyon would look different after twenty-four hours of this river. It would tear it apart. He focused on the metal
Glen
Canyon
Bridge
, only a few hundred feet from the dam. Although the roadway of the seven-hundred-foot-high bridge was well out of the water, the latticework of steel girders under the arch reached hundreds of feet down and attached to the sandstone canyon walls. Grant could not see where they attached. They were underwater. He couldn't help but notice that many cars were stopped on the bridge. He could see people standing. The bridge was obviously a good viewpoint to watch the dam collapse.

Grant waved Earl over. He pointed down where the support structure disappeared underwater. "Check that out. The mounts and girders are in the water. That could bring it down."

Earl didn't need any more information. He pulled a radio off his belt. "Close the
Glen
Canyon
Bridge
. I need roadblocks on both sides. Get everybody off now. We might lose it."

Earl looked at the group, especially Phil from the FBI. "I need to leave for a while and make sure they get it cleared off. You know where to find me." He started walking toward the door.

One of the FBI guys in coveralls intercepted him. They both took out their radios and exchanged a couple of comments. The guy from the FBI wrote something down while Earl started back out the door. The agent punched something into his radio and then held it up to his face. "Earl, you copy?"

Grant heard the response.
"Yup."
Earl sounded even raspier on the radio.

The guy in coveralls went over to his briefcase and retrieved an earphone assembly. He plugged one end in a jack on his radio and the other in his ear. He then walked back over by the group as if nothing had happened.

Grant noticed one of the other guys in coveralls talking to Phil. Phil nodded and said to the group, "According to Brian's description of the sun rising, the explosion occurred somewhere between 6:05 and 6:30 a.m. this morning."

Grant remembered thinking the time of explosion seemed so important a couple of hours ago. Now with the dam gone and
Lake
Powell
draining into the canyon, he wondered why it made any difference.

Phil came over to Grant. "Mr. Stevens, can we sit down and talk about a few things?" He motioned to Brian and the other security guys. "Can you guys join us?"

Grant looked at his watch. He needed to leave. "I guess I can talk for a few minutes." He sat down at the table.

"Our first suspicion on this kind of situation would be international terrorists, after all the problems with the World Trade Centers in
New York
and all, and we are proceeding with that investigation. However, a couple of things don't add up.
The first being that Brian here described the elevator repairman as a white guy.
We checked him out. The paperwork was
fake
, and the maintenance company has no employees that fit his description. We expected as much. It's still probable that he was a foreigner, but he could be an American or European working with them. There's a lot of sympathy for the
Middle East
and bad blood for Americans and what they are doing over there."

One of the agents in coveralls spoke to Brian. "Do you remember if he had any kind of noticeable accent?"

"I'm trying to remember what he sounded like." He shook his head. "I don't remember any accent. I just remember he was calm and confident. When I said we didn't have him scheduled, he showed me the paperwork and rattled off Dan's name and how it was already set up and all. No, I wouldn't say he had any accent. His speech was very professional, if nothing else."

Phil looked over at Grant. "Besides wanting to wreak havoc in
America
, why would anyone want to blow up this dam?"

Grant raised his eyebrows. "Are you kidding?"

The FBI man said nothing, obviously serious about his question.

Grant looked at the security guards for support, but everyone waited for him. He blurted the words at the FBI. "There are tons of people who wanted this dam blown up."

Phil seemed surprised.
"Who?"

"There are whole organizations dedicated to having it decommissioned - the Sierra Club and Greenpeace, to name a few. There are web sites that talk about it. There is even one group, the Glen Canyon Institute, whose entire purpose is to decommission the dam. They hold debates and lectures at universities trying to get support. One time a group of whackos rolled a black piece of plastic down the face of the dam to make everyone think the dam was cracked. Gee, if you think about it, half of the Democratic Party probably wants it removed."

Phil shook his head. "You're talking about environmentalists?"

Grant looked around the room for support.
"Absolutely.
I'm not saying they did it. But they sure as hell wanted to." He pointed at one of the news helicopters. "They're definitely celebrating right now, while they watch it on TV."

Phil had not considered this perspective. "Why this dam, more than any of the other dams across the country?"

"There are lots of reasons they focus on this one. The biggest is the canyon itself." Grant pointed upstream to
Lake
Powell
. "The area under the lake is called
Glen
Canyon
. Less than a thousand people saw it before the dam was built. It was supposedly an incredible place, vertical carved rock walls on the sides, endless narrow side-canyons like
Zion
National Park
, and some of the canyons had waterfalls and vegetation like rain forests."

Phil was amazed. "Why did the environmentalists let them build it in the first place? What about the environmental impact studies, the hearings . . .?"

Grant held out his arms. "When Glen Canyon Dam was approved in the late fifties, there weren't any environmentalists, at least not many, and they certainly weren't very powerful. There was only one salaried member of the Sierra Club. Environmental impact studies hadn't been invented yet. The Glen Canyon Dam is largely responsible for the changes. It pissed off the environmentalists and got them organized. They vowed never again. A couple of years later, they stopped the construction of two more dams downstream in the
Grand Canyon
."

Phil looked shocked. "They were going to dam up the
Grand Canyon
?"

"Yeah, in fact if you float down the
Colorado River
, you can still see the exploratory holes drilled in the canyon walls, where one of the dams was to be built."

"I still don't understand why the Democrats allowed it to happen."

Grant smiled. "The Democrats are the ones who built it. They ran the House and the Senate in those days. They wrote the bill and sent it to a moderate Republican president, Dwight Eisenhower, who signed it. In the late fifties, the Democrats were no more environmentally-minded than the Republicans. They were, however, adamant proponents of water projects - big projects that distributed water to cities and farmers, created electricity for homes and industry, and created jobs in the process. The water projects were big welfare, and the Democrats loved them."

While Phil was shaking his head, Grant's cell phone rang. "Hello, this is Grant."

"Grant, this is Julia.
I got ahold of Roland in
Paris
. The flight to
Africa
had not taken off yet. I'll conference you in."

Crap. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to the commissioner. Grant looked out at where the dam used to be and wondered if they could blame him for it. He stood and walked away from the group. After he heard a series of clicks, he recognized the voice of the director of the Bureau of Reclamation.

"Stevens, this is Commissioner Blackwell, can you hear me?"

Grant thought it was arrogant of Roland to constantly refer to himself as commissioner. "Yeah, Roland, I can hear you fine."

"What the hell happened out there?"

Grant tried to organize his thoughts. "Looks like a guy posing as an elevator repairman planted a bomb in the west elevator. It blew a five-foot hole in the dam."

"Is that it?
Only five feet?"

"That was four hours ago, Roland. The dam tore itself apart. It's gone."

There was silence on the line.

Roland voice was shaky. "You're saying the Glen Canyon Dam has completely collapsed?
Lake
Powell
is gone?"

"Yes. The dam is gone. But no,
Lake
Powell
is still there. It's draining now. It'll be gone by tomorrow, though."

Roland hesitated again.
"Grant, I'm coming back.
I'm trying to get a flight as we speak. I'm looking at all possible connection points. Julia, is the Gulfstream ready? I'll need it to meet me at whatever airport I can get to in the
United States
."