Overload (88 page)

more likely.

Now be was traversing a gravel road, his first objective less than a mile

ahead.

A few minutes later he caught a glimpse of the Coyote River through a

tangled growth of underbrush and trees which bordered it in this area. Tbe

river was wide at the point he bad chosen and soon he could see much more

of it. He stopped, where the gravel road ended, about thirty yards from the

riverbank.

To Georgos' relief, no other vehicles or human beings were in sight.

As he began unloading the dinghy and supplies, carrying them in a

half-dozen trips toward the river, his excitement and a sense of elation

grew.

After the initial trip, be removed the dinghy from its container and

inflated it with the pump which was in the package. No problem. Then be

pushed the dinghy into the water, tying the painter to a tree, and

transferred the equipment into it. There was a compressed-air tank and

regulator-the tank filled with an hour's air supply, a fage mask, fins, a

snorkel for use if be was near the surface, a waterproof flashlight, a mesh

belt, an inflatable balloon with a C02 cartridge to give him

382

buoyancy because of the weight be was carrying, a hydraulic metal cutter,

and wire cutters.

Last of all, Georgos loaded aboard the cyclindrical Tovex bombs. He bad

brought eight of them, weighing five pounds each, and they would be

fastened to his webbed belt. Georgos had decided that eight bombs were all

he could carry; to attempt to take more would be inviting disaster. As it

was, the bombs would destroy eight of the eleven water pumps-putting most,

if not all, of La Mission's four operating generators out of action.

The fifth La Mission generator was the one they called Big Lil. Georgos had

been sorry, in a way, to read in Sunday's newspapers that Big Lil was

already disabled and would require several months of repairs. Well, maybe

after today it would be several months more.

When everything was in the dinghy, and secure, Georgos, who bad already

discarded his clothing and changed into a wet suit untied the painter and

eased himself aboard. The dinghy at once floated clear of the bank and

began moving gently downstream. There was a small paddle, and he used it.

The day was warm and sunny and, in other circumstances, an excursion on the

river would have been enjoyable. But he had no time for enjoyment now.

Staying fairly close to the shoreline, he kept a lookout for other people.

So far be had seen none. There were some boats in the distance, a long way

downstream, but too far away for him to be observed.

In less than ten minutes be could see La Mission plant ahead, with its high

smokestacks and the big, functional building which housed boilers and

turbine-generators. In another five minutes he decided he was close enough,

and paddled into shore. There was a small, shallowwater cove. On reaching

it, he slipped out of the dinghy, then, wading in front, tied the painter

once more to a tree.

Now he donned the tank, mask, snorkel, belt and fins, and attached the

remainder of his load. When everything was in place he took one last look

around, turned on his air, then waded out toward midstream. Moments later

he slipped into deep water and began swimming, ten feet below the surface.

He had already taken a sight on his objectivethe plant pump house, a long,

low, concrete structure, projecting into the river.

Georgos knew that the pump house had two levels. One, above the water and

accessible from other portions of the plant, housed the electric motors

which drove the pumps. The second level-mostly underwater-contained the

pumps themselves. It was this second level he intended to penetrate.

On the way into the plant, he surfaced twice, quickly, to check his

bearings, then went under again to stay out of sight. Soon his forward

383

progress was halted by a concrete wall; he had reached the pump house.

Feeling his way along, he began searching for the metal grating through

which he would need to cut his way. Almost at once, the pull of the water

guided him to it.

The purpose of the grating was to prevent large objects from being drawn

in with the cooling water and damaging the pumps. Behind the grating was

a wire mesh screen, shaped into a large, horizontal cylinder. The

cylinder caught smaller debris and was rotated occasionally to clean it.

Georgos began working on the grating with his hydraulic metal cutter, a

compact tool about eighteen inches long and favored by underwater

treasure hunters. Soon he had opened a large circle and pulled the metal

bars away. The cutout portion dropped to the riverbed. There was no

problem about seeing. Ample daylight was coming in from above.

The wire mesh cylinder was now exposed. Georgos knew be would have to cut

his way into it from the outside, then make a second bole on the far side

to reach the interior pump bay. The distance between the two holes-the

cylinder's diameter-would be about ten feet.

He began sDipping away with his wire cutters, smaller than the hydraulic

cutter and suspended on a looped cord from his wrist. After a few

minutes, another hole was cut. Georgos pulled away the cut circle of

mesh, then eased himself carefully through the hole, making sure that

none of his equipment snagged. Swimming forward, he began cutting the

further screen. Soon that, too, gave way and he passed through.

Now be was fully inside the pump bay. From light filtering down from

apertures in the pump house floor above, he was able to make out the bulk

of the first pump, directly ahead.

Georgos was not afraid of the suction of the pumps. From his text. book

studies he knew that he would only be affected by it if he went deep,

which he had no intention of doing.

Using the flashlight, he began looking for a place to locate the first

bomb.

just as be found one-a flat surface on the housing-be sensed movement

behind him and turned. There was enough light to see that the wire mesh

cylinder through which be had entered, and which had been still, was now

rotating, continuously and steadily.

The plant superintendent at La Mission was a bright young engineer, Bob

Ostrander. He had been second-in-command to Plant Superintendent Danieli

when Danieli, Walter Talbot and two others were killed last July as a

result of the bomb, planted by Friends of Freedom, which damaged Big Lil.

Bob Ostrander, ambitious and tough-minded, had wanted to be

384

promoted-but not the way it happened. Danieli had been his good friend and

they worked well together. The men's wives were equally close; their

children still used each other's houses interchangeably.

Because of the manner of Danieli's death, Ostrander nursed a burning anger

about terrorists in general and especially the misnamed Friends of Freedom.

Consequently, when a teletype message arrived in the early afternoon of

Tuesday, warning that Georgos Archambault, the Friends of Freedom leader

and prime suspect in last year's Big Lil bombing, might make a new attack

on GSP & L property, Bob Ostrander put himself and all his staff on full

alert.

On his instructions, the entire La Mission plant was searched immediately

for possible intruders. When none were found, attention was directed

outward to the plant perimeter. A pair of two-man patrols, which Ostrander

organized, was ordered to make continuous rounds of the perimeter fence and

report by walkie-talkie any unusual activity or sign of break-in. Guards at

the main gate were told: No one, other than company employees, was to be

admitted without permission from the superintendent.

Bob Ostrander also telephoned the county sheriff and learned that the

sheriff's department, too, had received information about Georgos

Archambault and a Volkswagen van he reportedly was driving.

At Ostrander's urging, the sheriff diverted two of his patrol cars to

search roads in the area of the La Mission plant for any sign of a VW van

such as described.

Less than thirty minutes after Bob Ostrander's call-at 2:35 P.M.the sheriff

reported back that a VW van, positively identified as Archambault's, had

been found abandoned by the Coyote River, a halfmile upstream of the plant.

Not far from it were a pump and a package which apparently had contained an

inflatable rubber dinghy. An intensive search for Arcbambault by sheriff's

deputies was now in progress. One deputy sheriff would shortly be on the

river in his own motorboat.

Ostrander at once removed several staff members from other duties and sent

them to patrol the river side of the plant, their instructionsto sound an

alarm at the sight of any boat.

The superintendent remained at his desk, which had become a communications

center.

About ten minutes later the sheriff phoned again. He bad just received a

radio report that a rubber dinghy, with no one in it, bad been discovered

in a cove they both knew, around a headland from the plant. "It looks as if

the guy has come ashore and figures to get in through your fence," the

sheriff said. "Every man I have on duty is over your way, searching, and

I'm coming myself. Don't worry! We've got him bottled up."

As be hung up the telephone, Bob Ostrander was less confident than

385

the sheriff. On previous occasions, he remembered, the Friends of Freedom

leader had shown himself to be devious and resourceful. Coming through the

fence, especially in daylight, did not make sense. Suddenly, as

realization dawned, Ostrander said aloud, "Scuba gearl That's why he

needed a dinghy. The son-of-a-bitch is coming underwater. The pump house!"

He left his office on the run.

A watch foreman was among those patrolling on the river side of the

plant. Ostrander, arriving hurriedly, asked him, "Have you seen any-

thing?"

"Not a thing."

"Come with me." They strode toward the pump house. On the way Ostrander

explained his theory about an underwater attack.

At the forward extremity of the pump house, where it projected into the

river, was an open walkway. The plant superintendent led the way onto it.

Midpoint on the walkway was a metal inspection hatch directly above the

wire mesh cylinder through which water passed into the pump bay; the two

men opened the hatch, then leaned over, looking down. The top of the wire

mesh cylinder was visible below them. Nothing appeared out of the

ordinary.

Ostrander told the foreman, "Go inside and turn the cylinder slowly."

There was an electric mechanism to do so, operable both from the pump

house and the main control room.

Moments later the wire cylinder began to revolve. Almost at once Os-

trander could see the first large bole which had been cut. He remained

where be was, watching as the cylinder continued turning. When he saw the

second hole his fears were confirmed. Running into the pump house, he

shouted, "He got insidel Keep the screen goingl"

At least, he thought, he would block Arcbambault's way out.

His engineer's mind was icy cool. He stopped, aware of the need for a