Wet Desert: Tracking Down a Terrorist on the Colorado River (22 page)

The guy took a step forward, obviously unaccustomed to being challenged. The governor's attitude reminded him of the commissioner. The governor grasped both lapels of the expensive suit in a posture of authority. "The name is Rally Jenkins. I'm the governor of
Nevada
."

Grant nodded his head as if he had just figured it out. He felt himself stepping over the line. It was bad enough that this man had gotten in the way of what needed to be done at
Hoover
, but the pompous attitude was too much. Grant cleared his throat and then looked straight at the governor. "So are you the one getting in the way of what needs to be done, holding up dumping the water?"

The governor didn't hesitate. "Damn right. I got a call from the mayor in Laughlin early this morning, saying he was told to evacuate everybody around
Lake
Mojave
and Laughlin. He said you guys were going to open the gates and flood em out. When you started evacuating my cities without my permission, I had no choice but to get involved."

Grant nodded,
then
spoke as if he were talking to a child. "Do you happen to know why we need to open the gates Governor?"

"Sure, somebody blew up the Glen Canyon Dam. But that's over four hundred miles from here. My people need some time to --"

Grant slammed his fist on the table "There isn't any time!" He saw a few in the room jump at the outburst. The governor himself, showed a moment of apprehension, before his eyes narrowed. Grant brought his voice back to normal. "Sit down and let me explain a few things." He motioned for them to be seated, and some did, but not the governor.

"I know everything I need to know."

Grant started talking before he could stop himself. He pointed at the governor. "I highly doubt that, governor. If you understood the situation, you would understand why we need to open the gates. Since you don't understand, you obviously don't know everything."

The governor's eyes burned.

Grant lowered his voice and removed the hostility from his tone. "Please sit down governor, and I'll try to explain a few things that I think will make a difference in how you feel."

The governor looked around at the others and finally settled into his seat.

Grant looked around at the group. "The governor is
correct,
the Glen Canyon Dam was blown up this morning. I have in my hand a study completed in 1998 by the Bureau regarding what would happen in just such an event." Grant held up the report that Julia had faxed him in the Gulfstream. "Computer modeling was done to determine the speed of the floodwater, depths, etc. Before I get into the details governor, how about
you telling
me approximately how much water was in
Lake
Powell
?"

The governor answered with only a touch of apprehension. "Well, I know it's not near as big as Mead."

"Partially true governor.
Lake Mead holds 9.3 trillion gallons and
Lake
Powell
holds only 8.5 trillion."

The governor's mouth dropped.

Grant continued. "To put it in perspective, Lake Mead holds just over 2 years of Colorado River flow, and Lake Powell just under. All of you who think there's enough room left behind
Hoover
to catch the water in
Lake
Powell
, raise your hands." Grant paused for effect. No hands went up. "So, before I start reading from this report, I want to make sure we all agree that
Hoover
is not going to hold all that water?"

Fred Grainger asked a question. "How long does the report say it will take for the water to get here?"

Grant thumbed through the report until he found the table. "The water will reach the end of
Pierce
Basin
--" He looked up at the group "That's the beginning of
Lake Mead
." He continued reading. "
at
approximately 14 hours after the dam failure. Peak levels will occur 20 hours after the break, and be approximately two hundred fifty feet above normal."

Grant looked up. No one spoke. A few persons had their heads down. The governor had a blank look on his face. Grant spoke directly to Fred Grainger. "Fred, do you remember ever using the spillways at
Hoover
?"

"Yeah, in 1983, the year of the big spring runoff. It was the only year we used the spillways since the dam was built."

"Do you remember how much water went down the spillways and the river?"

Fred nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, peak was just over twenty eight thousand cubic feet per second. That was in addition to another seventy five thousand through the river works."

Grant shook his head. "So the worst flood since the dam was built netted just over a hundred thousand cubic feet per second." He looked directly at the governor. "Governor, were you around in 1983? Do you remember if there was any flooding downstream?" Grant already knew the answer.

The governor hesitated. "That was over twenty years ago, but I heard that there was quite a bit of flooding downstream.
A lot of damage.
Look, I'm not saying that--"

Grant interrupted him. "Fred, were the spillways running at capacity in 1983?"

Fred shook his head. "No, they'll handle over two hundred thousand cubic feet per second, each."

"Thanks Fred." Grant looked back at the governor. "So if the spillways were full, they'd handle over ten times more than in 1983?" He looked directly at the governor. "Does that sound like a disaster downstream governor?"

The governor stood. "Mr. Stevens, I'm not arguing there's not going to be a problem. I'm just making sure those people are allowed the proper time to evacuate."

Grant waved his hand. "Just a second, I'm not finished" He handed the report to Fred Grainger and pointed to a paragraph. "Fred, will you read this so everyone can hear?" Grant wanted to watch their eyes when they heard the words.

Fred took the report, and leaned forward against the table. "Overtopping of Hoover Dam would begin..."

Someone cut him off. "Water's going to go over the top of the dam?"

Grant glared at the person who spoke. "We already established that
Hoover
will not hold all the water." He lowered his voice and motioned to Fred. "Keep reading."

"Overtopping would begin approximately 25 hours after the failure at
Glen
Canyon
and continue for 10 days before reaching a peak level of approximately 60 feet over the dam about 75 hours after the failure."

The governor's jaw dropped, as well as many of the others. A couple people who were standing sat down. The resistance in the governor's face drained away.

Fred continued reading. "Maximum discharges would be 75,000 cubic feet per second through the water works, 400,000 through the spillways and another 2,000,000 over the top of the dam, making a total of approximately 2.5 million cubic feet per second."

Grant paused then asked a question. "Fred, what would happen if sixty feet of water went over the top of Hoover Dam for ten days?"

Fred's answer was just above a whisper. "It would fail."

Grant repeated, "Hoover Dam would fail." He looked directly at the governor,
then
repeated it again. "Hoover Dam would fail and then the contents of both dams, which
amounts
to 4 years of river flow, would barrel down
Black
Canyon
." He nodded at the governor of
Nevada
. "What do you think the mayor of Laughlin would think of that, governor?"

The governor spoke without looking up. He massaged his eyes with the thumb and index finger of his left hand. The arrogance was gone. "What does the Bureau suggest we do, Mr. Stevens?"

CHAPTER 16

12:30 p.m. -
Lake Powell
,
Utah

It was exactly as Max would have hoped. They had kayaked for a half hour and then the canyons had narrowed. The kayak skimmed through a vertical rock canyon, narrow enough for Max to touch either side with his paddle. Max paddled slowly as Darlene leaned back, reading her book.

"Look at this honey."

She looked up from her book, then book-marked it and set it down. "Wow. This is cool."

"Now you see why I wanted to come up here?"

The canyon veered left, and when they came around the turn, the walls opened up to reveal a sunlit cavern with a sandy beach, very romantic, and very isolated.

Darlene sat up. "Look at that."

"Guess where we're having our picnic?" Max said.

Darlene smiled.

When Max pulled the boat up on the sandy beach, he noticed the sand was wet, as if it had been recently underwater. The walls were wet also, way above the waterline, maybe twenty-five or thirty feet. Max thought about that and decided it was strange, almost as if there were humidity in the canyons. However, he felt no humidity. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn that the water had dropped. But it was impossible for
Lake
Powell
to drop twenty-five feet in such a short amount of time. Wasn't it?

* * *

Fred Grainger led them out of the visitor's center. The dry 110-degree heat hit Grant like a wave, then radiated into his body. He shielded his eyes and wished for a pair of sunglasses. Looking at Fred holding the door, who seemed to be unaffected by either the heat or the glare, he guessed the locals got used to it. Grant waited while the governor, his entourage, a couple of security guards, and a few Hoover Dam technicians came outside. Fred led them toward the crest of the dam. Since Grant's speech to the governor, US-93 had been closed, and the top of the dam was now devoid of vehicles. They followed Fred on the sidewalk that stretched along the edge of the dam. After walking several hundred feet, Fred stopped and they all looked down into
Black
Canyon
. All twelve outlets were now open, six on each side, their spray crossing in the middle as they doused both sides of the canyon walls. With all outlets open, a wall of water covered the view farther down the river. After the governor's approval, Fred had radioed the command to open the gates and gradually the
Nevada
gates were opened.

"Okay, everything's open as you requested," said Fred, pointing downstream.

The tension in the group had dropped noticeably. Seeing the water spraying across the canyon created a magical feeling that made them forget about the reason for the show. Grant saw the governor point to where water was hitting the cliffs and dispersing in all directions.

While the group watched downstream, Grant glanced sideways toward the visitor center, and saw a petite woman with glasses walking toward them. He recognized her immediately as Shauna Kingsly, the employee he had sent for from the Bureau in
Denver
. She had made good time. He saw her eyes scan the group nervously. He walked away from the group to meet her and he saw her eyes light up when she recognized him.

The best description for Shauna Kingsly was plain. Her hair was straight and parted in the middle. The lack of makeup and the loose fitting clothes completed the impression of a librarian. However, the two pens in her shirt pocket suggested another image: a woman civil engineer, not that all female engineers look like nerds. They didn't, even at the Bureau. It was just a stereotype. But Shauna Kingsly fit the stereotype perfectly.

He met her on the sidewalk. "Any trouble getting here?"

She turned and pointed up the road. "The cops wouldn't let the taxi through. They ferried me down here themselves."

"Where are your bags?" he asked.

She pointed back to the visitor center. "I left them in there."

"Any trouble checking out a computer?"

She shook her head and smiled. "Not after I told them why I needed it."

That morning when he asked her to try to get a notebook computer, the thought hadn't occurred to him that for the moment he was the most important person at the Bureau of Reclamation. It was amazing how status helped cut through bureaucracy.
No wonder the commissioner didn't seem as concerned with the red tape in the Bureau as the employees.
He had probably never experienced it.

"Stevens!" Someone yelled from behind.

Grant turned and saw the governor approaching.

"Are you happy now?" the governor asked, pointing to the spray in the canyon. It seemed like the pompous attitude had melted away from Rally Jenkins, and that he held no animosity for the episode in the visitor center.

Grant looked at the spray, then across the dam to the
Arizona
side. The next recommendation would be a tough sell. "We're not done yet." He said. "Follow me."

Grant started walking back toward the visitor center, motioning for the governor to follow. The entire group followed, looking curious. Although vehicle traffic had been stopped across the dam, Grant looked both directions anyway before crossing US-93 to the upstream side of the dam. The group followed. He walked off the
Nevada
edge of the dam and right past the statue. They walked past the small tourist store on the left and a snack bar on the right. He continued walking through the employee parking lot until he reached the chain-link fence against the rock mountain. The fence prevented tourists from falling seventy feet into the trough leading to the
Nevada
spillway tunnel.

"Now we need to open these up." Grant pointed his left hand over the fence and into the
Nevada
spillway, and with his right across the river to the
Arizona
spillway.

Grant saw Fred wrinkle his brows and hesitate, then finally answer. It was a response Grant expected.
"Grant, we can't open these.
They don't have gates." Fred looked embarrassed at needing to explain why. "The water can only get in the spillway tunnels if it gets high enough to get over that spillway itself, over there." He pointed to a cement wall preventing
Lake Mead
from entering the trough. "We'll have to wait until the water rises another thirty or forty feet."

Grant nodded. "Oh they'll open all right. They just need a little help. We need to get some demolition guys in here."

The governor came back to life. "Let's get this
straight,
you want us to blow up the spillways?"

"That's exactly what I want to do governor."

He looked skeptical. "How much difference exactly would it make, Mr. Stevens? Are you sure that your boss, the commissioner, would make the same recommendation?"

Grant could see that attitude was as natural to Rally Jenkins, as breathing was to the general population. "Governor, I have no idea what the commissioner would recommend. I would hope that he would make the same recommendation, since it's the only possible strategy. As far as what difference, the report said sixty feet of water would breach this dam. We have two things going for us here. First, the report assumed the dam would be full as a worst case scenario, and second, we have a twenty four hour warning to dump water, of which we have already wasted almost three hours." Grant slowed down and tried to choose his words carefully. "Governor, if we can reduce the amount of water that ends up going over the dam by - let's say a few feet, it may be the difference between
Hoover
Dam failing or not."

Grant saw Fred walk over and peer into the spillways, then glance back at the wall holding the water from entering. He put one of his fingers in his mouth and looked like he was going to chew on his fingernail. Like waking from a trance, he straightened, bringing his hands back down, and looked at the governor. "He's right, Governor. I agree with Mr. Stevens."

The governor looked around the group for dissenting views. He also turned and looked at the concrete spillways. He spun and looked back at the crest of the Hoover Dam itself. Grant wondered if the governor might be visualizing sixty feet of water going over the top of the dam.

The governor held out his hands. "Anyone know any demolition guys?"

* * *