The man gave him a funny look, making him realize he had just contradicted himself regarding the radio. In the depths of his consciousness he wondered if he should try to say something to cover up the contradiction, but his amazement of what was happening on the TV overrode the concern. The cook must have shared the same feeling, because he broke the stare and reached up and turned up the volume on the TV.
"… no comment yet from law enforcement or the Bureau of Reclamation regarding the cause of this disaster. Additionally, we were unable to contact anyone downstream in the Grand Canyon."
"It's gonna drown everybody in the Grand Canyon," the cook said. "It'll kill a ton of people."
This comment bothered him. Hopefully the park would have enough time to warn everybody, and get them out. All they really needed to do was hike up a couple of hundred feet, to get above the water. He didn't want to see too many people die.
The trance was broken when the waitress delivered his plate of pancakes to the bar. He jumped when he heard the waitress behind him.
"Oh my gosh. What dam is that?" she said. The words "Glen Canyon Dam" were still painted across the bottom of the screen.
The man in the apron pointed at the screen. "Lake Powell."
The waitress held a hand in front of her mouth. "Oh my! What happened?"
He noticed that another waitress, this one much younger, appeared wearing the same dress. A man in regular clothes, not the restaurant uniforms, walked in. "What the…"
Over the next few moments, more people showed up, most of them other customers. The comments and questions became noisy enough that the cook had to turn up the TV again. The man watched for a few more minutes, until another enormous piece of concrete broke off the structure and fell into the water. He no longer had any desire to eat. And although the last thing he wanted was to pull his eyes off the images on the television, the group made him uncomfortable. And besides, Glen Canyon was only the first. He had much more to do. He pulled a ten out of his wallet, and tossed it near the untouched plate of pancakes. The waitress's eyes, like everyone else's, were still riveted to the television, so when he walked out the front door toward his motorcycle, no one noticed.
Julie and Erika stopped for a rest. Paul and Greg were a hundred feet farther ahead. Erika took off her t-shirt and adjusted her bikini top. It was hot already, maybe ninety degrees. Julie unscrewed the lid on her canteen and took a long drink.
Fifteen minutes before, they had arrived at buoy 66, which meant they were sixty-six miles upstream from the Glen Canyon Dam. They turned into the small bay and tied off the boat on some rocks on the shore. There were three other boats parked and hikers were already spread out up and down the slope. Julie's first thought at seeing where they would be hiking was that you would have to be crazy to climb it. But, after a few minutes of complaining, she had reluctantly tightened the laces on her hiking boots, checked the canteens, and the two couples had started their hike.
Now, while Julie rested, she glanced back down and saw that another boat had arrived below and was preparing to hike. Julie wiped sweat off her brow and wished they had started earlier. "We should've done Rainbow Bridge on the way home."
Erika exhaled. "I don't think I would have felt like stopping anywhere on the way home."
Julie thought Erika had a good point. She looked up and saw the men still climbing. They looked strong, especially Paul, who had a springy step and looked like he could take off running at any moment. "Paul looks like he could go forever."
Erika looked up at her husband. "Yeah, and we were both stupid for not putting a rope around him so he could pull us with him."
Julie laughed. Now her imagination was going to be taunting her with that fantasy of a rope pulling her to the top.
Looking up the slope, Hole in the Rock was basically the intersection of two near-vertical cliffs, their merger creating a notch that climbed steeply upwards until it cut right into the rock and formed a steep 'V' shape. The climb up the notch was a minimum twenty-five percent grade, but sometimes increased to as much as forty-five. Julie's calves were burning already, even though they weren't even a quarter of the way up. Farther ahead the two men had stopped and were looking back down at their wives.
Erika pulled her black hair back and put a band around it. "You ready?"
Julie nodded. "Yeah. Let's go."
CHAPTER 11
Grant counted five representatives of the FBI walking in the door of the Glen Canyon Dam visitor center; two of them wore suits, the others navy blue coveralls with a yellow "FBI" insignia above the left pocket. All of them packed side arms. Brian had met them at the door, and then led them over toward the table.
A tall stocky guy in one of the suits spoke first. "Hi I'm―" He stopped when he got close to the window. "Wow!" He walked over to the glass and stared. The other four agents crowded up behind him. All five talked and pointed for what seemed like a minute.
When they finally broke away from the window, the stocky man spoke again. "Hi. I'm Phillip Sutherland. I'm a deputy field agent for the FBI. Who's in charge?"
Earl, still sitting at the table spoke from underneath his mustache. "You can be, if you want."
Grant laughed under his breath.
The agent took it in stride and smiled. "I'm sure you boys have had an interesting morning."
Grant reached out his hand. "Grant Stevens, Bureau of Reclamation. I flew in from Denver about an hour ago." Grant motioned around the table. "This is Brian; he was the security guard in charge last night."
Brian reached out and shook the agent's hand.
"This is Dan, head of security."
Dan nodded.
"And this is Earl Smith, Captain of the Page Police Department."
The policeman waved without standing up.
The agent looked at Grant. "Well, we have a lot of catching up to do, but we don't want to get in your way. Is now a good time to bring us up to speed?"
"Sure." Grant walked over to the windows overlooking the dam. Grant was getting used to the fact that every time he looked at the dam, the hole got a little bigger. "At approximately 6:00 a.m., an explosion occurred in the west elevator shaft. It used to look just like that one." Grant pointed to the east elevator shaft, still visible on the other side of the dam. "The explosion blew the top out of the elevator shaft and a small hole in the dam. According to Brian, the original hole in the face of the dam was about five feet in diameter and about two-hundred feet down."
Brian nodded approval of the description.
The agent wiped a hand across his forehead. "You mean at 6:00 a.m. the hole was only five feet wide, and now it's this big?" He looked astonished.
Grant nodded. "It only took a small hole to get it started. The water's doing the rest. Too much pressure. The dam'll be gone in less than an hour."
"How long before…" Phil stopped. "Go ahead. Continue."
Grant continued. "Last night an unscheduled elevator repairman showed up and worked on the west elevator. We assume he put a bomb in the elevator. He left his supply trailer on the dam when he left. Earl's guys got a look at it before that section of the dam collapsed."
Earl held up a zip lock bag with white pellets inside. One of the guys in coveralls snatched the bag from Earl and studied it. The agent opened it and used his hand to wave the scent under his nose without inhaling it directly.
"Ammonium nitrate fertilizer," said Earl, still sitting. "The same stuff that kook used to re-arrange the federal building in Oklahoma."
The FBI agent in coveralls nodded his head in agreement. "I think he's right."