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Wet Desert: Tracking Down a Terrorist on the Color

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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 the 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 used 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?"