"I don't know. That's a question for your congressman."
The reporter looked at his notes for a second. "Grant, what is your last name, and what do you do for the Bureau?"
"Last name is Stevens and I am a water resources manager."
"Why did the Bureau send you? Where is Roland Blackwell, the commissioner, or any of the vice presidents? Isn't this a big enough problem to warrant their presence?"
"Roland and most of his team are out of the country. They have been contacted and are arranging for return travel as we speak."
The helicopter had descended and was now landing on the road just past the roadblock on the opposite side of the river. The reporter pleaded with Grant.
"Mr. Stevens, can we get one camera shot of you answering a question? How about an easy one about the water downstream or the dam falling apart over a period of hours?"
Grant considered. He had heard that most of these people were not trustworthy, but this guy seemed okay. "No new questions, and no questions about who did it."
"Great! It will only take a minute."
The helicopter settled and the rotors began to slow down. Earl opened the door and the noise level rose considerably. When Grant climbed out of the chopper, the reporter was waiting for him.
In the noise, the reporter yelled through cupped hands. "LET'S GO OVER THERE WHERE WE CAN GET THE DAM SITE IN THE BACKROUND." He pointed to the river. They started walking away from the helicopter's noise.
Minutes later, the reporter was standing next to Grant, holding the microphone. The cameraman had the camera pointed at them. Grant had not expected the camera to be so close. He felt a sudden urge to straighten his hair, but resisted. The camera moved in close enough to see up his nose. The reporter asked Grant if he was ready.
He nodded. "One easy question," he reminded the reporter.
The reporter spoke into his microphone. "This is Kevin Scott with KBXY in Phoenix, Arizona. We are here at the site of what's left of the Glen Canyon Dam in Page, Arizona with Grant Stevens of the Bureau of Reclamation. The Bureau built this dam as well as most of the other dams in the country. Grant, give us a quick synopsis of what happened here this morning."
Grant felt like he had told this story a hundred times, but almost forgot everything with the camera in his face. He hesitated, which he knew would look awkward on TV. "Early this morning, an explosion went off in the west elevator of the dam. The original hole was small, approximately five feet in diameter. The water pressure then tore the dam apart over the next four hours." Grant stopped talking and looked back at the reporter.
The reporter didn't miss a beat. "As we speak, the FBI is on site investigating the cause of the explosion. As you can see behind us," the reporter turned and motioned to the dam site, "the Glen Canyon Dam has collapsed and Lake Powell is now draining into the Grand Canyon. That's all for now from Kevin Scott."
The light on the camera went out. The reporter looked at the cameraman. "How'd it look?"
"Great. I'll rewind it and you can check it out."
Grant dismissed himself and started walking to the waiting police car. The reporter called out his thanks, but was more concerned with the footage on the camera.
Earl joined in and walked next to Grant. "You're a natural. You oughta be in Hollywood."
"It'll probably get me fired."
"Why? You didn't say anything."
"Doesn't matter. The bosses will be jealous. It should come from them."
"Well, they ain't here."
"They will be." Grant reached out for the car door. "That's when the politics will start." He slid into the back of the squad car.
Earl climbed in the other side. The police car surged ahead and started up the hill toward Page. Grant felt funny leaving the scene, like he was leaving something undone. Part of him wanted to stay and stare. When they crested the top of the hill and entered the city, the car turned left.
He turned and looked at Earl. "What's going to happen here after I leave?"
"Don't worry. We'll baby-sit the tourists." Grant thought he saw a hint of a smile under the large mustache. "And the Feds," Earl added.
As before, the police car drove past the gate and out onto the airport tarmac. A moment later it stopped next to the Gulfstream. The high-pitched sound told him the jet engines were already turning. Grant climbed out of the cruiser and walked toward the plane.
Wendy, the flight attendant, met him at the base of the stairs. "Boulder, Nevada?"
Grant nodded. "Yeah." The mention of Boulder made him think about downstream. Would they lose Hoover too? He headed up the stairs.
Before he ducked into the plane, he turned and looked back at the captain of the Page police force, who was now leaning against the car. Grant cupped his hand and yelled at Earl. "Good luck. Don't let things get outta control."
Earl's response wasn't loud enough to hear, but three jabs from a pointed finger, and over-enunciation of the syllables sent the message loud and clear, "You already did."
Grant held up his cell phone and pointed to it, trying to send the message that Earl could call him if he needed.
Earl nodded and waved, then climbed back in the cruiser. Grant ducked into the Gulfstream that would take him to Hoover Dam.
Wendy shut the door behind him and the noise of the engines almost disappeared.
Although he could have picked any of the leather seats, he chose the second window seat on the right, the same one from his previous trip.
She interrupted him while he was fastening his seat belt. "Can I get you anything?"
He shook his head. "Not now." He touched her arm. "Could you ask the pilot if he could follow the river?"
CHAPTER 14
Julie didn't care if her feet were killing her. It had to be over a hundred degrees. She jogged the last few yards to the water, dropped the canteen, sun visor and crumpled t-shirt on the shore, and dove into the refreshing water of Lake Powell. She didn't even stop to take off her hiking boots. In the few seconds she glided underwater, Julie felt the water cool her face, arms, back, and legs, saving her from what felt like imminent heat stroke. She let her momentum and buoyancy bring her slowly back to the surface. When she turned, she saw the other three had stopped and were hastily unlacing their shoes. She stroked leisurely back to the shore.
"Aren't you going to take your shoes off?" her husband asked.
When she reached the rocks, she found a small ledge, just under the surface, where she could sit and get to her laces. "I couldn't wait. I was burning up."
Greg laughed. Paul had removed his shoes and had moved to Erika, who sat back and let her husband remove hers. She looked exhausted too, and Julie wanted to help her into the water so Erika could feel the same relief Julie was feeling. Even as Julie reached for her shoelaces, she heard first Greg, then Paul and Erika dive in the water around her.
"Oh, that feels so good." Erika purred.
Paul blew a small stream of lake water out of his mouth like a Roman statue.
Julie's laces released easily. As she struggled with the shoe, Greg swam over next to her and took over, pulling her right one off.
"Let me help you with that." He tossed it up on the bank, and then rolled her sock off, his fingers cleaning between her toes, then massaging her foot.
Greg's hands on her feet made her lean back on the rocks and sigh. She felt light headed. He repeated the service on her other foot, and she decided right then, she would never leave him.
After the foot massage, both couples frolicked in the water for a while. Julie took off her shorts and threw them up on the bank, leaving her only in her bikini. She wished the site were more remote and it were only she and Greg, because for the first time in her life she wanted to skinny dip. Even the small swimsuit felt too restricting.