Grant nodded.
The commissioner stood and walked toward the door, then stopped and turned. "Stevens, you should probably know that the Bureau could have done much worse than what you've done here."
"Thank you, Commissioner." Grant marveled that the conversation had gone so well.
When Grant walked out of the conference room, Fred was waiting for him. He looked nervous. He immediately walked over and grabbed Grant's arm. "He blew up the California Aqueduct."
"What?"
"They called right after you guys went in the conference room. I've been waiting for you to come out. There's been another explosion. Somebody blew up the aqueduct."
Grant felt confused. "Where did this happen? Do we know if it's the same guy?"
"It happened about fifty miles west of Lake Havasu. Out in the desert. There's water all over the place out there."
Grant considered the repercussions. "How does this affect us? The dams downstream?"
Fred hesitated. "Well, they obviously had to shut the pumps off in Havasu. I'm not sure what you're getting at."
What did this have to do with the other bombings? He had the next piece of the puzzle, but he wasn't sure where or if it fit. "I'm not sure I know what I'm getting at either. I'm just trying to figure out why. What does this have to do with the other explosions?"
Fred didn't respond; he just looked puzzled.
Grant continued thinking out loud. "So what is the net result of shutting off the pumps?"
Fred shrugged. "I guess it's going to make the flood downstream a little worse. You know, since all the water that was in the aqueduct is now going to stay in Havasu."
Grant considered the idea, then looked back at Fred. "I wonder if that's it. After the bomb at Davis Dam, he must of figured we'd step up security on the other dams. Could this guy's motivation be to flood the hell out of the lower Colorado? I wonder who he hates down there?" Grant pulled the cell phone off his belt. "We need to call Phil. These are all questions for the FBI."
Phil picked up on the first ring. He sounded as if he were losing the war. He had already heard about the bombed aqueduct and had already dispatched a couple of agents to the site. However, they didn't have high expectations on collecting evidence. Police reports from the site reported that water had washed much of the hillside away, not to mention the small lake created in the surrounding area.
"What's next?" asked Grant.
"We need to get together again, talk some more," said Phil.
"I can't leave here," Grant responded. "The water from Glen Canyon is starting to arrive and Lake Mead water levels are rising by the minute. Things are going to get a little dicey."
"That's fine. The trail's cold here anyway. I'm coming to Hoover. You guys have been hearing stuff before us."
Grant hesitated for a second. "Look, I don't want to tell you guys how to do your job, but — "
Phil interrupted him. "No. Go ahead."
"Well, one thing we shouldn't wait to discuss is that our bad guy must have guessed we'd beef up the security around the dams. So that might be the reason he switched to the aqueduct. I think it's only reasonable ―"
"I'm way ahead of you. There's another one farther down, isn't there? I agree; I can have the police tighten security there, too."
"There's more than one, Phil. There's a couple that go to Arizona, including the Central Arizona Project, CAP, and one that goes to the Indians. There's another huge one called the All American Canal that goes to Imperial Valley. That one even splits and sends a fork over to Palm Springs. And then there's the Gila, another big one, but it's in Mexico."
Phil didn't say anything.
Grant continued. "The bottom line is, these things stretch for hundreds of miles through the desert. The police aren't going to be able to guard 'em. The bombers probably waltzed right up to the last one. It's in the middle of nowhere."
"I see your point."
Grant continued. "Look, I still don't know this guy's motive, but he seems to be concentrating on the lower Colorado River. It's almost like he wants to damage something or somebody downstream. I think we need to get aggressive. Shut down all the roads in and out. String the National Guard along the aqueducts. You name it. Our targets cover a lot of space out there."
"That's going to be tough, Grant. They are still trying to evacuate many of those cities downstream. There are thousands of people on the roads. We can't impede the evacuations."
Grant rubbed his forehead. "I know, I know. But we have to try. Maybe you can randomly stop some of them. Who knows, we might get lucky at a roadblock somewhere. Isn't that how they caught the guy that blew up the Oklahoma Federal building?"
"We'll see what we can do, Grant."
"What about the dams and aqueducts in Mexico?" Grant asked.
Phil hesitated. "You know the FBI can't go into Mexico."
Actually, Grant didn't know. "But this is an emergency."
"Grant, the FBI cannot go into Mexico. We have no jurisdiction. Their government will have to handle it."
Grant hated politics, but saw no way around this one. "Well, have we talked to them yet? We need to at least give them a heads up."
"Not yet. I'll need to make some calls to the big wigs. It won't be my decision. In the meantime, I need some help with maps of all the aqueducts, something I can pass to local law enforcement."
Grant knew Phil wouldn't like the answer. "Phil, the Bureau doesn't handle the aqueducts. In fact, I'll bet every one is handled by a separate agency or municipality." He hesitated. "But I can give you a contact at the Bureau, somebody who should at least be able to help accumulate the info, or if nothing else, send you in the right direction."
"I appreciate it, Grant."
Grant gave Phil the number of a woman in the Denver office. Since it wasn't even 7:00 a.m. in Denver, he told Phil where she lived, so he could call information if necessary. He added her supervisor's info just in case.
When Grant hung up the phone, Fred stood nearby waiting. "Did he take your advice?"
"Yeah, kind of. I recommended some big stuff like the National Guard. But that's over his head. He'll need to bring in his superiors."
Fred smiled. "You want to go for a walk again?"
Grant stood, stretched, and tried to stop a yawn that wouldn't quit. "Sure, what's up?"
"The spillways are now full." Fred looked like a kid with his first bicycle. "You wanna go look at 'em again?"
Disaster or no disaster, Grant wanted to see them as much as Fred did.
"Let's go."
With the sun having just risen above the horizon, a large group followed Grant and Fred out to the Nevada Spillway, including Governor Jenkins and Commissioner Blackwell and their entourages. A man and a woman with cameras and a separate guy with a video camera had materialized from nowhere and joined the caravan. Grant noticed that there were two helicopters hovering over the dam shooting pictures of the sandbag dike. Both of them, a white one and a blue one, had logos of news organizations stenciled on the sides.
When they reached the dike, Grant saw that a makeshift stairway had been built with sandbags, up one side and down the other, to facilitate the crossing. He wondered whose idea it had been. The large group meandered over the wall and through the parking lot toward the Nevada spillway. Grant noticed that the water had risen to within a few feet of the top of Hoover Dam, burying the fifty foot white band of rock normally seen around the perimeter of Lake Mead. A few more feet and it would flood the parking lot where they stood.