"I assume that elevator repairmen do not normally use ammonium nitrate as part of their standard maintenance?" asked Phil.
The question was not intended to be answered, and no one tried.
The second agent in a suit spoke for the first time. "Are you guys searching for the perpetrator?"
Earl nodded. "There's a million ways out of Page, if you count all the dirt roads through the desert. But we setup roadblocks on all the highways a couple of hours ago. We're looking for any newer white pickups."
"And?" prompted Phil.
"And we ain't seen anybody suspicious in a new white pickup, Chevy or otherwise," Earl said unemotionally.
The questions then started to concentrate on what Earl's people found on their fact-finding episode on the dam. They were extremely excited when Earl showed them the camera and explained they had taken pictures of the trailer before it disappeared, then disappointed to find out that the pictures were not digital and would need to be developed. Obviously, things were done differently in the FBI. Grant told them about Brian's description of the sun peeking over the horizon, and one of the agents called someone on his cell phone for an exact time analysis. Overall, the number and detail of the questions was amazing.
At a certain point, when the discussions focused on Earl's officers and Dan's security team, Grant caught himself yawning. He stretched his arms and stood. He walked back over to the wall of windows. Since he had last looked, the water had carved another hundred feet across the dam. However, as the hole expanded east, it cut underneath the crest, leaving a huge section on top that had not broken off yet, an overhang of over a hundred feet. It just hung out there, defying the forces of water rushing around it. He expected it to break away any second. How long could it last? Then abruptly, the whole section let go and disappeared into the torrent below. An extremely loud crack, like thunder, followed a fraction of a second later. The group behind Grant stopped talking and looked at the dam, many standing up for a better view. Grant estimated to himself that about forty or fifty times more water than normal was heading down the Colorado River.
One of the agents in coveralls spoke first. "I'd hate to be downstream in the Grand Canyon right now."
CHAPTER 12
David looked at his watch and noted the time. The silver raft drifted silently along the smooth stretch. He was glad to be back on the river again. After gulping a big breakfast made of hash browns, eggs, bacon, and sausage, all scrambled together, which Keller called morning stew, the group had packed the silver rafts and pushed off.
David was falling in love with the leisurely pace of the river trip. They never rushed to do anything. After six days away from the grind at the office, routines were forgotten. Although the nagging feeling that a million things needed to be done was still perceptible, it had diminished to only an occasional passing thought, which he was learning to ignore. Sometimes in the past, after returning to work after a long vacation, David experienced a sense of re-orientation, where he had to try hard to remember how to do his job. He laughed to himself. After two weeks in the Grand Canyon he might just have to repeat the new employee orientation.
Judy, sitting just in front of him, turned and called back to the guide. "What have we got downstream today, Keller?"
"Ladies and gentlemen, today is an easy one. Probably the best rapids we're going to see are at Waltenburg."
Everybody turned around for the information. Afram asked the first question. "How big?"
"Class five at the best, nothing like the Jewels were yesterday. I'll have to take her in sideways just to cool you off."
The Jewel Rapids had been the best of the trip, especially Sapphire where they had lost Judy into the river. As they had passed through the jewels, they passed mile one hundred, meaning they were a hundred miles downstream from Lee's Ferry, and a hundred fifteen from the Glen Canyon Dam. David couldn't believe how fast the trip was slipping away.
Becky shook her head. "I'm plenty cool, Keller. You don't need to get us wet on purpose."
As the weekend had progressed, Becky and Sam had been acting more and more like an item. She tended to always need help or protection, and Sam was more than willing to fill the role. Sam had even asked Afram to switch places in the raft this morning, so he could sit next to her. David thought it was funny that they could work together every day and never even notice each other, then spend a few days camping with no showers or makeup and all of a sudden discover a little chemistry. Was it possible the outdoors stimulated their hormones? If so, why didn't Becky or Judy look any better to him? Or, more likely, the chemistry had always been there, buried and throttled by the office environment and politics. Sam generally gave his soul at work, and was one of those head-down workaholics. It was probably impossible for Sam to find love at work.
Keller had it figured out. "Why, girl? Sam's not going to let anything happen to you."
The group watched Sam to see what his reaction would be, but he didn't take the bait, showing only a poker face. Becky, on the other hand, couldn't conceal her smile. She obviously liked to be associated with Sam.
"If there are no rapids, then what's for lunch?" Afram asked with a very serious face.
Keller leaned forward. "Didn't I tell you? Today is YOYO day."
When Keller received the blank looks he expected, he continued. "Don't ya know what YOYO means?"
There were a few headshakes, but Judy was the one who asked, "No, Keller, what's YOYO day?"
"YOYO means: You're―On ―Your ― Own," he said, smiling.
They laughed and Afram elaborated. "You mean we can go through the supplies and take whatever we want for lunch?"
"No, what I mean is we'll pull the rafts over for lunch and you guys can eat whatever you find. Kinda like back to nature, environmentalism at its finest."
David looked up at the rock walls and felt glad that Keller was only kidding. He wondered how long he could survive on his own. Not long, he bet. He would wander around for days looking for food. In fact, he hadn't seen anything edible so far on the trip. There were fish in the river; he saw them jump occasionally, but without a pole and bait, he'd die of old age before he caught something.
David looked around. No one talked for a while, evidently having had their fill of sparring with Keller. Even Keller craned his neck and admired the canyon walls. Becky rested her hand on Sam's leg. A state of relaxation permeated. Even though the white-water was the primary reason they had come to the Grand Canyon, one day of smaller rapids would be a nice change.
Grant stood at the windows overlooking the dam, or what was left of it. The water had torn almost all the way to the east side. Again, a section over a hundred feet long jutted out, ready to snap at any moment. This time the whole group stood watching, even the FBI agents.
"Why isn't it breaking off?" Phil asked.
"It will," said Grant. "Keep watching."
"Look at all the water down the canyon." Brian pointed downstream.
Grant looked and noticed that most of the mist was gone. He hadn't realized it until just now. The clear visibility allowed a good view into the canyon. The huge waterfall into the canyon had transformed, over the last hour, into a more gradual drop, gradual being a relative word describing a drop of over a hundred feet. With the water downstream four hundred feet above normal, the water didn't have to drop very far. Looking downstream at the new river, Grant saw an outcropping of rock break off and fall into the river.
"It's going," yelled one of the FBI agents in coveralls, pointing to the dam.