Wet Desert: Tracking Down a Terrorist on the Colorado River (37 page)

BOOK: Wet Desert: Tracking Down a Terrorist on the Colorado River
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Blaine
looked over at the two cops working the roadblock with him. They both stared up at the dam with they're mouths hanging open.
Blaine
didn't think he would need to call them. But the call to
Hoover
was a great idea.

* * *

10:15 p.m. -
Boulder City
,
Nevada

A waitress, probably in her fifties, far beyond the age to wear such a short, revealing cocktail dress, took their menus, then turned and headed back to the kitchen. Grant wondered how the casinos persuaded older ladies to wear those dresses. You'd think they'd go on strike or something. They were unionized, weren't they? Yet you saw it in almost all the casinos, especially the older ones.

At Fred's request, she had seated them where they could look out over the casino floor. An infinite number of lights blinked on and off, while the sounds of clinking coins and the distinctive cycling sounds of slot machines permeated the large room. Grant watched a fat woman on a stool between two slot machines feed coins into one, pull the handle, then feed coins into the other, while waiting for the three windows to sequence and stop.

The Hacienda Hotel & Casino sat on top of a hill offering a spectacular view of
Lake Mead
, just minutes from Hoover Dam. Fred told him that although listed in
Boulder
City
, the Hacienda was technically just outside the city limits, on county property, necessitated by an anti-gambling ordinance in
Boulder
City
, the only such ordinance in
Nevada
.

In the 1930s, in the midst of the depression,
Boulder
City
had been a private community, built to house workers and their families employed in the construction of Hoover Dam. When the construction companies ran the town, they outlawed booze, gambling, and prostitution. In fact, to discourage bad habits, the workers were paid with special
Boulder
money, only accepted in grocery and clothing stores in
Boulder
.

Fred laughed when he pointed out that it hadn't taken long for the casinos in Vegas to react, and accept the
Boulder
money. Consequently, citizens of Las Vegas, including prostitutes, casino workers, and liquor storeowners, often came to shop in
Boulder
for groceries or clothes, and spend the
Boulder
money. Once the dam was completed,
Boulder
City
transformed into a normal city, governed by elected officials, but the anti-gambling laws remained, something the citizens of
Boulder
were proud of.

As Grant scanned the casino floor, looking at the people mulling through the slots, video games, and card tables, he tried to discern their level of anxiety. The gamblers did not seem overly concerned about the impending flood on the
Colorado River
, or about Hoover Dam being closed. Because of the Hacienda's location, he guessed that many of the casino's occupants lived in
Arizona
. This was their state-line casino. However, they didn't seem panicky or even nervous, trapped in
Nevada
with their only bridge closed. They acted more like skiers, snowed in at the ski resort, forced to call their boss and request a couple more days off due to an unfortunate turn of events that ended up forcing them to extend their vacations.

When Grant looked back at Fred, Fred was smiling.

"What?" Grant said.

"You.
What are you thinking?"

"Just that all these people . . ." Grant motioned at the gamblers, "They seem oblivious to everything that's going on."

"You jealous?"

"Nah.
It's just hard to believe, with all that's going on less than two miles away. Most of these people look more concerned with whether or not they're going to lose five bucks in the slots." Grant took a sip of ice water. "It's just amazing."

Fred sipped his drink. "So how'd you get roped into this, anyway?"

Grant smiled. "I almost didn't. I was supposed to be in
Africa
with the rest of them. It was a last-minute thing to leave me in charge. Believe me, if they had an idea something like this was going to happen, they would have sent me to
Siberia
. They wouldn't have wanted me within a hundred miles of this thing."

Fred's brows furrowed.
"Why not?
You're doing a great job. Everything you've done has been right on."

The day had been such a whirlwind that Grant hadn't thought much about it. He did feel good about himself, though. He had made more decisions today than in the last fifteen years at the Bureau. It felt like a different job. When he joined the Bureau as a new civil engineer, he had dreamed about this life. Not the crisis management, but the offsite assignments at construction projects scattered around the country. He had always felt he would be in charge of a big dam, making the necessary decisions. But the 80's and 90's bore few new construction projects for the Bureau of Reclamation. For the last few years, Grant struggled to fit in. He wasn't good at politics. He'd even considered leaving.
But today had been different, more like he envisioned fifteen years before.

Grant considered Fred's compliment. "I think it's a little early to say everything's going to work. Roland is never going to understand me blowing the spillways. Besides, if the Hoover-Two fails, I'll be the goat."

Ever since coming up with the dam extension idea, Grant kept imagining the rising water breaking through his sandbag dam. He thought it would work, but the image of it failing kept playing over and over in his mind.

Fred shook his head. "It's not going to fail. Besides, when it holds, you'll be hailed as a genius."

Neither of them said anything for a moment.

Fred finally broke the ice. "You're married, right? You got kids in
Denver
?"

Grant looked abruptly at his watch. He had forgotten all about his family. He glanced at Fred apologetically. "You know, I've been so busy, I never even called my wife. I should probably take a moment and give her a call. With the news and all, she's probably wondering what's going on."

Fred motioned away with his hand. "Sure. Take as long as you want."

Grant stood and walked over to a quieter place in the restaurant where the casino noise was muffled before punching his home number into the cell phone. She was probably already asleep. The phone rang twice before his wife picked it up.

"Hello?" Her voice sounded energetic, not sleepy.

"Hi honey."

"Grant!" she said, excited. "I wondered if you were going to call. We saw you on TV. The kids couldn't believe it. All the neighbors called. The news channels have been showing the dam breaking up all night. Wow, it's terrible."

The image of the Glen Canyon Dam breaking apart seemed like a lifetime ago. Grant had actually forgotten about the TV interview. The thought of his face being broadcast around the country was incomprehensible. He tried to remember what he'd said, but couldn't. It really didn't matter anyway; Roland wouldn't like it.

His wife continued, "I almost called you, but I wasn't sure it'd be okay. What are you doing now that the dam's gone?"

"I'm not in
Arizona
anymore. I flew to Hoover Dam this morning, right after the interview."

"
Hoover
? Isn't that where we went when we were in Vegas?"

He remembered the trip.

"Yeah, Vegas
is
about forty minutes away."

"What are you doing there? Did something happen there too?"

He laughed to himself that most people viewed a dam failure as an isolated event, not considering the inevitable destruction downstream from all the floodwater. "No, but it will. All the water from
Lake
Powell
is headed our way. We're doing everything we can to get ready for it. It's pretty hairy, actually. We're doing all kinds of crazy stuff."

His wife hesitated for a second. "Are you in danger?"

"No. Not really," he replied.

"How does it feel to be in charge?"

He thought about the question. The pressure had been intense but exhilarating. Even the governor of
Nevada
had acted on his decisions.

"A lot different than normal, that's for sure," he said. It was all he could think of.

She spoke boldly. "Well it's about time. You're smarter than those morons you work for anyway. They're just brown-nosers." She hesitated. "Have you heard from them?"

Grant realized he was nodding.
"Yeah.
Roland called this morning and Howard called an hour ago."

"Are they coming back?"

"Roland never made it to
Africa
. He's trying to get back here now. I expect him sometime tomorrow morning. Howard is still deciding." Grant laughed. "He's afraid to abandon his wife in
Yellowstone
. But I expect him, too. You know
him,
he can't stand being out of the loop, especially with Roland coming here."

"He's a creep, Grant."

"Yeah, I know."

The phone went silent again. Grant looked back at the table and he saw the waitress setting the dinner plates on the table. He didn't know what else to say. "Hey, I better let you go so you can get to sleep."

"When are you coming home?"

He wondered the same thing himself. Realistically, he might get stuck out here cleaning up messes for weeks or even months. "I don't know, honey. I'll call you tomorrow when I get a better idea."

"I love you," she said.

Her comment caught him off guard. The "love" words were not often verbalized in their marriage. "I love you too," he mumbled uncomfortably.

He hung up and wandered back to the table. Fred, already cutting into his steak, looked up and smiled when Grant returned.

"What'd she say?"

"She said all the neighbors saw me on TV."

Fred grinned and stuffed some steak in his mouth and responded while still chewing. "Can I wait and get your autograph after dinner?"

Grant laughed.
"Yeah.
Sure." He sat down and grabbed his steak knife and started to slice his steak when the cell phone rang. He looked at Fred apologetically.
"Probably my wife again."
However, when he saw the display, the number showed 702, a
Nevada
number.

He answered, "Hello?"

"Mr. Stevens?" the voice asked. It was a woman's voice that Grant didn't recognize.

"Yeah.
I'm Grant Stevens."

The person on the other end sounded nervous. "You guys better get back here. There's been another bomb."

Grant dropped his knife on the plate. Fred looked up and stopped chewing.

"At
Hoover
?"
Grant asked.

"No, Mr. Stevens.
Downstream at
Lake
Mojave
.
Davis
Dam."

The information made no sense. Grant stood. "We'll get back as fast as we can."

Grant hung up the phone and looked over at Fred. "They blew up Davis Dam." Grant waited for Fred to stand,
then
turned to leave before remembering the check, which the waitress hadn't left on the table yet.

Fred, one step ahead of him, pulled his wallet from his pocket and pulled a twenty out and tossed it on the table, more than enough to cover the casino steaks.

At the last minute while standing and ready to go, Grant looked back at the steak and felt a huge regret, finally noticing how hungry he was. He reached down and cut a large slice and stuffed it in his mouth. Fred nodded and grabbed the rolls out of the basket in the middle of the table.

"Back to
Hoover
?"
Fred
asked,
more a statement than a question.

Grant nodded.

CHAPTER 25

10:20 p.m. -
Hoover
Dam,
Nevada

As soon as Grant and Fred walked back into the Hoover Dam visitor center, they tracked down the person who had taken the call from Davis Dam. The call had been taken by one of Fred's technicians. The woman explained that the guy at
Davis
was a security guard named
Blaine
. Grant dialed the number, and
Blaine
picked right up.

"
Davis
Dam.
Blaine
."

"This is Grant Stevens from the Bureau of Reclamation. I'm calling from Hoover Dam. What happened there,
Blaine
?"

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