Fractured State: Rogue State Part 8

Water flow into the reservoir and through the dam had continued to decrease in the early 2020s, as more water was diverted into a series of new irrigation ca.n.a.ls built into the Colorado side of Lake Powell. Not a problem if the Upper Basin states had limited the use of their federally allotted share of the river water to irrigate their own struggling ecosystem, but when they had started pumping vast amounts of water destined for the Great Plains, you had a big problem.

Especially when the Upper Basin states made a fortune from the water. Colorado, Utah, and Wyoming filled their coffers while draining critical Arizona aqueducts that kept Tucson and Phoenix from drying up and blowing away in the hot desert winds. When Arizona state legislators started talking about sending National Guard troops to seize control of the Glen Canyon Dam, Washington, DC, preempted the move by deploying the Rangers as a deterrent.

That was when Nathan had started looking for a similar job as a water reclamation engineer in one of the surrounding states. He knew better than anyone that Arizona was living on borrowed time. The key was getting out of the state before the general public realized the water situation had crossed the point of no return.

The sound of a chair sliding across the floor behind him drew his attention away from the map. Nathan turned his head to see a stocky, intense-looking man push away from one of the computer stations on the opposite side of the room, where he had met Jose this morning. Nathan had barely given the bearded man a second look a few minutes earlier. Looking at him now, he could tell the guy was important. Possibly Jose's second in command or chief of security.

He wore what Nathan had come to regard as the CLM uniform: high-end, earth-tone hiking boots; light brown or olive-drab cargo pants; fully loaded tactical vest over T-shirt of choice. The T-shirts seemed to be a personal statement, though the man standing behind them wore an unpatterned, light brown T-shirt-like Jose's. He didn't carry a rifle, instead sporting a brown thigh holster. Once again, just like Jose's. He was definitely in a leadership role. For all Nathan knew, the guy could be the head honcho. He had just a.s.sumed Jose was the group's leader.

The man met Nathan's glance with steely eyes. He was a whole new tier of bada.s.s. Locked into a staring contest, Nathan withstood the withering look, grateful when Jose appeared.

"Gentlemen, this is Baker. He runs the tactical side of our operation," said Jose.

Baker smirked faintly before turning to address Jose.

"No signs of trouble from our contacts. Exterior security reports all clear on the streets. Remote observation teams report the same."

"It's still early," said Jose. "I guarantee it's in the works. Once the price is right, we'll start to notice extra surveillance. Might even get a courtesy call from our patrn."

"If he's not the first to sell us out," said the man.

Jose shook his head. "There's too much money at stake. I hope."

How much money could CLM afford to pay to stay here? It couldn't possibly be enough to keep a low-level informant from taking a stack of cash.

The man shrugged. "Only time will tell."

"I'd like to be out of here before time runs out," said David, pivoting on his feet to face them.

"That's the trick, isn't it?" replied the mystery man.

"Nathan. David. This is Jeremy. Former US Naval Special Warfare Development Group. Squadron commander. He runs security for the installation and southern-tier tactical operations."

"Development Group?" said Nathan.

"SEAL Team Six," said David. "Very serious s.h.i.t."

Jeremy's face didn't betray the slightest response to David's compliment.

"Yeah, he's about as serious as it gets," said Jose. "He directed the a.s.sault that cleared Cerberus from their positions overlooking your convoy."

"He dropped in with the Mexicans?" said David.

"There were no Mexicans present during last night's operation," said Jose.

"Everyone keeps saying that," said Nathan.

"That's because it's an important point to clarify," said Jose.

"Uh-huh," replied Nathan. "Just like the CLM isn't running operations out of a foreign country."

"Exactly," said Jose. "Will Keira be joining us?"

Nathan shook his head. "I took her some food and coffee. She doesn't want to leave Owen alone."

"Perfectly understandable." He pointed toward the map. "What do you guys think?"

"I think you're planning on taking out a few dams," said David.

Nathan shook his head as Jose walked between the two of them to stand next to the wall.

"You don't think we can do it?" said Jose, raising an eyebrow at Nathan.

"I know you can't do it. Not without access to the air force."

"The US or Mexican Air Force?" replied Jose.

Was he kidding? Landing a platoon of paratroopers a few miles north of the border was one thing-launching a coordinated air strike against major US infrastructure points was altogether different. He didn't like where this was headed. He was in enough trouble as it stood. Adding domestic terrorism and federal treason to the list could only serve to ensure that neither he nor his family ever lived a normal life again. He had a chance against Cerberus and the trumped-up murder charges in California. There was no going back from what Jose was suggesting.

"If you have access to the Mexican Air Force, why do you need me or David?" said Nathan.

"Because we don't have access to the Mexican Air Force. Even if we did, I can't imagine any scenario in which they would cross the ColoradoArizona border to hit the Glen Canyon Dam. If they were willing to risk that kind of aggression, taking out the Hoover Dam would make more sense, yes?"

Knocking out the Hoover Dam would undoubtedly benefit Mexico, dumping the contents of Lake Mead into the Colorado River and sending an unrestricted flow toward the Sea of Cortez and the long-dried-out aqueducts in Baja California. It would also overwhelm the smaller dams built along the river south of Lake Mead, quite possibly destroying them. That would be an unmitigated disaster for the Lower Basin states, emptying the reservoirs that fed water into Arizona and California.

Of course, all of this was a moot point. Most of the Colorado River's water never made it out of the Upper Basin. Nathan would take a different approach altogether if he was put in charge.

"You don't seem to like that idea," said Jose.

Jesus. Was he that easy to read? Jose stifled a laugh as Nathan cleared his throat.

"We have no intention of destroying the Hoover Dam. That would be counterproductive for everyone, including Mexico. Most of the water would dump right into the Sea of Cortez-wasted," said Jose. "Control it? Yes."

"If you're looking to restore the Lower Basin to historic levels, you're going to need the Mexican Air Force. Not us," said Nathan. "Glen Canyon Dam has to come down. There's no point in seizing it. If the government doesn't drop the US Army Rangers on your head, I guarantee the Upper Basin states will mobilize their National Guards to evict you, so to speak. Not that it really matters. Lake Powell is at its lowest levels ever. They're diverting too much water upriver."

"It's a compound problem," said Jose.

"That's an understatement."

"We could use your expertise in formulating a plan."

Nathan shrugged. "I don't know what these symbols mean, but it appears to me that you're focusing on the right dams."

David reached for the map, pressing a finger against a point in northern Utah, near the Wyoming border. "This one seems pretty isolated. Why destroy a dam this far north?"

Jose nodded at Nathan. "Care to explain?"

"You're not dragging us into this."

"What's the harm in reiterating what the CLM already knows?" said Jose.

Nathan gave him a skeptical look, then turned to David. "Flaming Gorge is one of the keys to this whole mess. It controls the flow of the Green River, which is the Colorado's main tributary. There's no shortage of water flowing from mountain sources north of the dam, but the Upper Basin Authority diverts a ton of it east, toward the Great Plains."

"Doesn't the federal government control these dams? How f.u.c.king difficult is this to fix?" said David.

Jose shook his head. "Very difficult, when some of the nation's wealthiest industrialists have so much to lose if the water starts flowing again. They tend to spend money on these things. Lots of money. Lawmakers on both sides of the aisle in DC have turned their backs on this issue. The US Bureau of Reclamation has ignored Colorado River Compact violations for so long, they've more or less redrawn the water allotments. Even the White House turns a blind eye to the problem. Three administrations, both Democratic and Republican-nothing but empty promises to investigate the issue. This isn't going away by policy. Dams need to come down."

"Uncle Sam isn't going to sit back and let you destroy these dams," said David. "You'd need the equivalent to a Marine combat division, with full air support, to pull this off. Your time and money would be better spent lobbying for more desalination plants-if water is your main concern. Even a public awareness campaign about the water diversion."

"We've been down that road, and it always leads to back to the status quo," said Jose. "Desalination plants are expensive. The state can barely cover the current infrastructure costs of the California Self-Reliance Act."

"Is that new legislation?" said David.

"See? That's the part of the problem right there. The CSRA was renamed the California Infrastructure Improvement Act seven years ago-eight years after the legislation pa.s.sed it into law. A subtle but effective way of deemphasizing the whole point of the act: to achieve resource and economic independence from a federal government too corrupt to address a serious threat to California's future. Most Californians have forgotten why they overwhelmingly voted in favor of the CSRA in 2020.

"We've been losing the media battle. Doubling the current number of desalination plants will not produce the amount of water needed to both irrigate California's fields and hydrate the population. It'd help, but it'd be a trickle compared to what the Colorado River can supply. If the Upper Basin cuts the river flow any farther, the state will have to choose between the people or the farms. This is where it gets interesting."

"This is starting to hurt my head," said David.

"It's been hurting mine for more than a decade. Let me break it down for you. When push comes to shove between delivering water to the population and irrigating the fields, the citizens will take the hit."

"I don't think so. Public outcry would win that battle," said David. "People won't go thirsty."

"Really? I think you've been living in your Marine Corps bubble a little too long."

"Excuse you?" said David, setting down his coffee cup on a chair behind him.

"Camp Pendleton has its own desalination plant, which provides an unlimited source of water to the base, while providing both Orange and San Diego Counties with water."

"That's part of Pendleton's community outreach program. It's not exactly a bad deal for the counties."

"Depends on your point of view. It certainly takes the sting out of local munic.i.p.alities supporting your federal mandated water allotment-which is far higher than, say, the average citizen's. Fifty percent higher, if I'm not mistaken."

David remained quiet.

"And your neighbors can't buy whatever they want, whenever they want, at government prices on base. You might be surprised how water stressed they feel. I'm sure Nathan could shed some light on this. He's spent the past several years working on this problem. Has it gotten better or worse since you started, Nathan?"

"Definitely worse," said Nathan, keeping his focus on the map. "Most families supplement their water allotment with store-bought juices or sodas. Whatever they can get their hands on. Staying adequately hydrated is a challenge, unless you're willing and able to throw disposable income at it."

"And surprisingly few Californians have disposable income these days," said Jose.

"All the more reason why they won't stand for a reduction," said David.

Jose shook his head sympathetically. "They won't know it happened. Decisions like these are made behind closed doors. One Nation Coalition lobbyists have worked hard to push the state's big-picture resource deal making into the secret recesses of the Sacramento statehouse-where money and promises can change hands without public scrutiny. In fact, the details never really see the light of day. From top to bottom, state resource agency operations are highly cla.s.sified. Can you talk about your job outside the home, Nathan?"

"I'm not really supposed to talk about it inside the home. We all sign nondisclosure agreements."

"The system is like this by design-the ONC's design," said Jose. "Ever hear of Cal Farms United?"

David shrugged.

"It's not a name you hear in the mainstream media or find easily in search engines-by design. Cal Farms United owns or represents close to ninety percent of California's remaining agricultural industry, and-surprise, surprise-they are one of the biggest contributors to the ONC. The once beleaguered agricultural industry is a lucrative business now that CFU rigs water distribution and regulates the vast majority of the state's exports. Those poor water-stressed California farmers have no choice but to charge the rest of America exorbitant prices for produce or livestock. Right? And it's not the individual farmer's fault. They're not making a dime more today than they did twenty years ago. CFU takes most of their profits, graciously allowing them to stay in business-and feed the greed machine. Trust me when I say this, David. Water will flow to the farms before the people. Ninety-two billion dollars in profit per year guarantees it. Jack Bernal, the head of Cal Farms United, makes the Mexican cartel bosses look like street peddlers. And he's just one of several industrialist kingpins working over the American people. It gets worse."

"I don't know. Sounds a little conspiracy heavy," muttered David.

"I'm not making any of this up. I've spent the better part of a decade investigating the connections between all of these groups, watching it slowly play out. That's the key, you see. This hasn't happened overnight. Californians have been conditioned over time to accept it."

"Did you know all of this?" David asked, nodding at Nathan.

"Not exactly," said Nathan, slightly distracted by the map. "My focus is pretty narrow at work."

"That wasn't always the case," said Jose. "You used to see the big picture. I have a thesis paper written by you at UCDavis that proves it. I suspect you once cared, too. The tone of your paper is-inflammatory? Accusatory? Both?"

"That was a long time ago."

"They buried your paper pretty d.a.m.n fast. Cla.s.sified top secret before it was published. I bet that wasn't a pretty scene."

"I put it behind me."

"Not far enough, apparently," said Jose.

"You figured this out in college?" David asked Nathan.

"Not the Cal Farm United connection."

"It was too early for that," Jose said. "Jack Bernal was still a small-time crook at that point, on the verge of discovering his true place at the big table. Nathan exposed some inconvenient truths about the diversion of water in the Upper Basin, then he had the b.a.l.l.s to recommend that the Arizona National Guard seize the Glen Canyon Dam. Your professors at Davis must have swooned over this paper-until the black helicopters showed up."

"Black Suburbans," said Nathan. "I had two hours to sign some serious paperwork to avoid domestic terrorism charges."

"No s.h.i.t," said David. "Your dad must have blown a gasket."

"He never found out."

"n.o.body did," said Jose. "Well, I wouldn't say n.o.body. Copies survived. You've been on my radar ever since I read it."

Nathan put both hands on the map. "Look, this isn't rocket science. Drop these two dams. Control the Hoover. Water flows to California. I don't see why my paper is a big deal. You need a demolitions expert and a s.h.i.t ton of explosives, not a water engineer and a thirteen-year-old thesis paper.

"You're not going to take down one of those dams with a demolitions team. The feds will shut you down fast, especially if your tales of corruption are true. At best, you might temporarily disable one of the dams-maybe both of them, if you coordinate a simultaneous strike. Frankly, I'm not seeing the manpower required to pull that off," he said, glancing around the operations center. "Kind of a ghost town around here."

Ghost town. Nathan had been struggling to put his finger on something that had been bothering him since he'd seen the Mexican paratroopers. Now his eyes darted from dam to dam, taking in the scope of Jose's proposed plan. Flaming Gorge Dam was nearly an impossible target; several hundred miles away from any point in California, it had to be a major stretch for the California Liberation Movement. Then he turned to take in the entire room. Empty tables lined two of the walls, leaving only one wall occupied by digital communications gear and Jose's computer station. The fourth wall stood in front of them, covered with maps. This was his fourth visit to the operations center, and in all that time he'd seen only Jose, Jeremy, and maybe two more members of the team. From what he could tell, the center was mostly staffed by security, and there couldn't have more than a few dozen of them.

The numbers didn't add up. None of this added up. He found Jeremy turned in his seat, burning a hole through him with an eerie stare-half grin, half scowl.

Oh s.h.i.t.

"Something wrong, Nathan?" said Jose.

"You're on your own here," said Nathan, turning his head slowly to the map. "None of this is sanctioned by the CLM."