Wet Desert: Tracking Down a Terrorist on the Color

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"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 encouragement. 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.

Todd walked a few steps away from the spillway and lifted his radio to his ear. "There were a few big pieces of wall that didn't break up, but they fell over. The water will do the rest. Go ahead and blow your side."

A few seconds later Grant saw the dust shoot into the air on the other side. Todd headed for the diesel pickup "Come on, let's go see how that one looks." The workers piled into the back of the truck, while Grant and Fred squeezed into the front.

The hole on the Arizona side wasn't as clean. The left side was broken, but still hanging on by the rebar. There was a big piece in the middle also, with water rushing around it from both sides. But, Grant guessed the two obstructions were only impeding about twenty percent of the flow. Besides, the water pressure would eventually finish the job.

With the water flow on this side only slightly less than the other, and adding the two together, plus the twelve outlets in the canyon, Grant came up with a little over 250,000 cubic feet per second being dumped. He walked over to the hood of Todd's truck and took out a piece of paper. He borrowed a calculator from Todd. He multiplied the number by 60 twice to get cubic feet per hour, then divided it by a conversion factor to get acre-feet/hour. By this time, Fred, Todd and the workers had huddled around to see the result. He then divided the number by the total acreage of Lake Mead, 161,000 acres, which he got from Fred, then multiplied it by 18, the approximate number of hours until the flood arrived. He looked up.

"A little over two feet, maybe closer to three feet when you consider that the spillways will double as the water starts to rise." Grant got a couple blank looks from the huddle, so he continued. "The level of the lake, I was trying to figure out how many feet we are going to drop the lake before the flood arrives."

Grant saw that the group was largely unimpressed. They didn't get it. He completed the explanation, while looking straight into their eyes. "When a wall of water flows over the top of the dam for ten days straight, it will be three feet smaller because of what we just did. It might save the dam."

Many of them turned their heads toward to crest of the dam. Grant knew they were trying to visualize water flowing over it. When they turned back, a couple of them had mouths hanging open. He thought that they now understood.

CHAPTER 18

3:30 p.m. - Grand Canyon, Arizona

As the rafters and the two Germans approached the Colorado River, David noticed the second raft had just arrived. George was transferring his stuff from the other raft into Keller's. Keller was holding onto the ropes for his raft. As they walked closer, David could see that most of the sandy landing was now covered with water.

When Keller caught sight of the group, he called out to them. "Get over here. We gotta go." He seemed edgy.

The group came to life and started loading into the raft.

"What's up Keller?" said Judy.

"The water's rising fast. It must have risen almost ten feet in the last hour. I've never seen it rise this fast. We gotta get downstream and find a high campground." Keller's voice communicated near panic.

The other raft pushed off. They also seemed edgy. As David climbed into the boat, he remembered Ralph and Anna who were standing on what was left of the shore, staring at the now panicky rafters. "Keller, these two hikers we met at Elves are interested in one of your trips. Do you have a card or a flyer or something with a phone number?"

Keller didn't even look up at them. "coloradoriverfoam.com. All one word. The number's on the web site." He pushed off and the river current grabbed the raft and pulled it downstream.

David looked back at the Germans and waved. "Bye." Not the kind of goodbye he would have liked.

Ralph and Anna waved at them from the shore as the raft drifted downstream.

"Right side paddle. Left side paddle." Keller called out from behind.

3:35 p.m. - Lake Powell, Utah

Julie's feet were killing her. After forty-five minutes of hiking on wet rocks, they ached all the way up to her ankles. Erika was suffering too; you could see it in her face. Both grimaced as they walked. Both had slipped on the wet rocks countless times, but neither complained. It wouldn't have helped. Julie vowed she would buy differently in the future when shopping for shoes. To hell with fashion. And most maddening was that Paul had not slipped or had any problems, even though he had the same flip-flops.

Julie was also nervous that they had not reached the houseboat yet. She could not help wondering if they were in the wrong canyon, or if Max and Darlene, had already moved the houseboat. What if they had already taken it downstream?

"There it is," Erika called from behind.

Julie looked up. She saw the houseboat still tied to the shoreline, resting on a steep patch of rocky ground about forty feet above the bottom of the canyon. It hung downward at a steep angle. There was no sign of Max or Darlene anywhere.

Paul cupped his hands "MAX? DARLENE?" but no one responded. "Where are they? I hope they're okay."

Julie was worried. Where were they? Darlene was not the type to wander. "MAX?"

Erika pointed at the houseboat. "Come on."

After a somewhat difficult climb up the steep muddy hillside, Julie reached out and pulled herself up next to the houseboat using one of the ropes dangling off the back. She felt the houseboat give slightly at her pull and immediately released the rope. It wasn't stable. Erika climbed up behind her and grabbed her arm. She was panting. Paul passed them both, climbing up to where the boat had been tied to the shore.

Julie and Erika maneuvered upwards to where Paul was standing. When they reached the top, Julie sat down in the shade caused by the front deck and looked back down in the muddy canyon. Erika sat next to her. Julie looked downstream and up, even up on the cliffs surrounding the small canyon, but saw no signs of the other couple.

"Where are they?" Julie asked.

Paul shrugged. "I wonder if someone already picked them up."

"Maybe they left a note or something," Julie said hopefully.

Paul motioned to the two women. "Let's climb up and start gathering everything together. We can look around and see if there's a note or something."

Erika nodded.

Paul grabbed one of the lines tied to the shore and hoisted himself up. The houseboat shifted with a loud groan. He dropped back to the ground and backed up a few steps. "That's not going to work. How bad do we need that stuff anyway?"