As the tractor plowed through the rising water, Daniel was forced to continually choose lower gears. Creeping along with almost four feet of water flowing across the road, Daniel knew the water would soon be over his feet. The front tires were completely underwater, and he could not see them anymore. When would the engine stall? He looked ahead. The water had buried the road for almost a mile in front of him. The dry road seemed so far away.
Suddenly the rear of the tractor slid a few feet. Daniel spun the steering wheel to stabilize it. He felt the water move the tractor again, just as the water started flowing over the deck where his feet were. He hadn't been able to see the road for a while, looking instead at the disappearing road ahead. The water moved the tractor again, and this time it didn't stop. He felt the tractor slide sideways over the downstream embankment and in one motion the right tire dropped and the water pushed the Massey Ferguson over.
Daniel was pulled underwater in one quick motion. He reached out to push off the steering wheel and realized it wasn't there, the current had already pulled him away from the tractor. He lunged for what he thought was the surface of the dirty water, only to plow his fingers into the ground underneath. He was confused by his disorientation and lunged again. Nothing. He panicked. He could swim, but he wasn't a strong swimmer. He would never dare swim in a flowing river. His lungs were bursting and his eyes felt like they were going to pop out. He flailed his arms in an inefficient effort to propel himself.
Suddenly his head came out of the water. He gulped for air a second too late and got a breath of water. His body tried to reject the water with coughing and gagging contractions. Daniel knew he only had one more chance. He kicked hard to get back up and made it. He coughed out some of the water and involuntarily inhaled again, sucking more water in.
This time when his head went back underwater, his body had lost the strength to fight. The panic had also subsided. He gulped in another mouth full of water. But his body stopped trying to reject it. He felt calm. With no apprehension, he wondered what his father would say about the Massey Ferguson. Surely his father would not be happy. But at the moment, the thought didn't seem to bother him. Instead his entire body felt calm. He felt himself going to sleep. He closed his eyes and relaxed. Then 15 year old Daniel Tahbo drowned.
Viewed from the helicopter, the landscape changed dramatically downstream from Headgate Rock Dam. The rock canyons ended, opening up into a wide valley that stretched as far as Grant could see. Huge square grids of green, yellow, and occasionally brown painted the unmistakable picture of farming. The river wound lazily back and forth along the valley's west side. An extremely large canal accompanied the river out of the canyon, having been diverted by Headgate Rock Dam. Countless other irrigation canals stretched east from the river.
Native Americans of the Colorado River Indian Reservation owned the farms just downstream from Headgate Rock, but looking south over the endless farms, it was impossible to tell where the reservation ended and non-Indian farming began.
When the floodwater hit the valley, it spread out, burying the north end of the valley under a shallow brown lake. The helicopter sped past the flood and followed the river south toward the Palo Verde Diversion Dam. In the helicopter, at well over a hundred miles per hour, they expected to arrive at the dam by 1:00 p.m. The floodwater wasn't expected until 2:15 p.m.
With no disasters to stare at through the windows, Grant decided to catch up with the FBI. He was beginning to think they had no idea what was going on. It had occurred to Grant that he had as much chance of solving the crime as the FBI. "So, Agent Williams, what'd you learn from the cops at Parker Dam?"
Grant couldn't see her face behind him, but disappointment resonated in her voice. "They didn't know anything. They didn't even know we were looking for a guy in a white pickup. He could walk right up to them and they wouldn't recognize him."
"Would we?" asked Grant.
She hesitated. "I talked to Phil on the phone. They're working on some leads."
Grant doubted the leads were serious. "Really. Like what?"
"I'm not sure if I should say."
Grant cast his eyes over at Lloyd and they traded smiles. Grant pushed her. "Why not? You afraid me and Lloyd here are gonna leak it to the press, and spoil the investigation?"
She hesitated. "It's not that. It's just that Phil probably needs to ―"
He interrupted. "Needs to what? Run down all the leads before he asks me for more?" He swiveled in his seat to look her in the eyes. She seemed surprised at his line of questioning. He swiveled back forward. "You know, even when I watch TV, when cops communicate, it's only in one direction. I tell the FBI everything I know. And they tell me nothing." He swiveled again. "I've come to the conclusion that passing information one way is not the best way to communicate."
"What are you saying?" she asked.
"I'm saying that if we want to solve this thing, I need to know what's going on. I need some facts."
Agent Williams stammered. "Well, I'm not authorized to say anything. I would need Phil's ―"
Grant interrupted. "Look, I understand. If the FBI wants to try to solve this in a vacuum, without interaction with the Bureau of Reclamation, who am I to complain?" Grant pointed ahead toward an open hay field. "Lloyd, you can set it down in that field over there. Agent Williams wants to get out."
Lloyd smiled again. "That one just up ahead?" The helicopter started dropping.
Agent Williams sounded nervous. "Phil said we're going to meet with you again, and trade information. But we need to chase a few things down first. Maybe this evening, or maybe tomor — "
"This thing will be over by tomorrow!" Grant yelled, "and Lloyd and I have commitments this evening at Palo Verde and Imperial Dams. Don't we, Lloyd?"
They had almost reached the hayfield and Lloyd looked over at Grant. "You want me to put it down?"
"No," said the agent.
"Yeah. Go ahead," Grant said.
The chopper dropped quickly toward the ground.
"You can't leave me here," she said. "You agreed to take me along today. You'll be impeding the investigation."
Grant laughed. "No, the way I see it is, we can't keep you with us. We'd risk you accidentally telling us something we shouldn't know, spilling some piece of secret information in a non-secure environment. We couldn't allow that. You know, for national security reasons."
The landing gear touched down.
"I'm not getting out," she said.
"Does your cell phone work out here?" Grant asked. "You can call one of your secret agent buddies to pick you up. You could talk more freely with them."
Agent Williams hesitated. "All right, I can probably share some information, but only with you. We can walk a few feet away from the helicopter."
"No deal," Grant said. "The government trusted Lloyd in one of their multi-million-dollar helicopters in Vietnam. You ought to be able to trust him now." Grant turned to Lloyd. "Lloyd, didn't you have a security clearance?"
Lloyd nodded.
Grant laughed. "Besides, Lloyd came with us today to see some explosions, not create them, didn't ya Lloyd?"
Lloyd nodded again, smiling.
"We're not worried about Lloyd," she said, barely loud enough to hear.