Craig Kreident #2 Fallout Read Online Free PDF Page A

where’s our backup?   When is Explosive Ordnance Disposal going to get here?” Craig said, turning in a circle, trying to determine where best to begin their search.
    Jackson glanced at the watch, pushing back the sleeve of his suit jacket.   “The EOD team was on their way from Boulder City.   Should be another fifteen or twenty minutes.   We’ve got fifteen more agents coming in from Las Vegas, but we’re on our own for the time being.”
    “Best we can do, I guess,” Craig said.   “We have to be fast and efficient.”  
    Garcia trotted back up, cradling his yellow hardhat, his face flushed.   “I sounded the evacuation,” he said, breathless.
    Craig called out, “Mr. Garcia, help us think of where someone might place a bomb around here.   Where would it cause the most damage?”
    The supervisor looked up at the transformers, down into the channel of water where the terrorist had vanished, then up at the concrete expanse of the dam as though he couldn’t fathom anyone trying to destroy his precious machinery.   “Do you want to cause structural damage, or knock out the power-generating capability, or flood water through the diversion channels?”
    Goldfarb cleared his throat impatiently.   “Hey guys, if I could make a suggestion while we’re looking inside — the Eagle’s Claw wants attention, right?   They want to do something spectacular.   They need to make a statement that’ll affect lots of people.”
    “Like cracking the dam and flooding the southwestern United States?” Jackson said.
    Garcia stuttered.   “No way!   You’d need to crash an airplane full of dynamite into the dam wall in order to cause that kind of damage.”
    “Then it must be somewhere inside,” Craig said grimly.   “Let’s move it.”
    They spread out through the main generating floor.   Craig raised his voice, shouting to be heard over the hum of the machinery.   “Mr. Garcia, I spotted our suspect leaving that tunnel.   Would you accompany me, please?   Jackson, Goldfarb, you keep checking out the generator room.   I looked at the first couple of turbines, but our guy could have rigged something else.”
    “You bet,” Goldfarb said.   The two agents set off at a rapid pace, while Craig and the shift supervisor rushed into the tunnel.
    The tunnels ran through the canyon walls and the immense concrete dam like a network of blood vessels.   Lit by garish round spotlights, the rock walls were rough and rugged, dusted with salty secretions.   Haphazard sheets of corrugated plastic hung from the ceiling and walls to deflect dripping water that seeped from the rocks.   Concrete gutters ran alongside the walkway.
    “This tunnel goes to one of our main penstock pipes used for shunting the water in an emergency,” Garcia said.   Perspiration covered his face.
    “And if one of those pipes were to be breached?” Craig asked.   “Would it flood out the entire dam?”
    “Not really,” Garcia said.   “The pipes are dry now.   We’ve only used the shunt once, ten years ago, when there was a flood condition in Lake Mead.”
    Craig scowled.   “Any other ideas where he might plant his explosives?”
    Garcia screwed up his face.   “Agent Kreident, this place was built to last two thousand years.   I don’t believe there are any single points of failure.”
    “Even if somebody blows up the generators?” Craig said, glancing at his watch again.
    “We’ve got eight generators on this side alone,” Garcia answered, nervously rubbing his hands together.   “Arizona has nine on the other side.   You could blow up one or two of the turbines, I suppose, but it still wouldn’t cause immediate and irreparable damage.”
    “Unless whoever planted the bomb didn’t know that,” said Craig, looking around at the enormous machinery.
    The two men jogged through the passage, looking at the power conduits and side storage chambers, but Garcia dismissed all those as being unlikely targets.