Retribution - A Dish served Cold

Chapter Thirty-Three

The telephone rang, jarring Frank Holmes out of his sleep. Yes, he said in a calm voice as his eyes read the green numbers on his alarm clock. It was 11.35.

From his left, Frank's wife pulled the duvet over her head.

"We have a problem," said the man on the line."

"How bad is it, Terry?"

"The spillway is falling apart."

"That's impossible. It's three-feet thick concrete slabs."

"Boss, the impossible is happening. Harry and I watched one of those slabs lift in the air and wash away as if it were a sheet of cardboard. If any more go, this dam is compromised."

"I'll be there in twenty minutes. In the meantime, close the spillway."

"Boss, this weather pattern has been around for almost a week, and it's still raining. If I close the spillway, the water level will rise fast until it tops the main dam."

"Do it. I'll decide the best course of action when I arrive."

***

It was almost midnight when Frank, followed by Terry, made their way across wet, rough ground. Ten minutes later, they reached the spillway.

"What are we looking for," asked Terry.

"Depends," Frank shone his torch on the damaged area. "Jesus Christ. "That's out of use forever. Those slabs are supposed to be on solid rock, but whoever built it placed them on clay," he muttered as his beam of light shifted from one destroyed place to another.

"I'm sure the construction was correct at the time. This dam is over a hundred years old," said Terry. "What now?"

"We check the water level in the reservoir."

"I can tell you it's risen half a metre since we shut off the spillway," said Terry.

Frank wiped the rain from his face. "You're joking."

"Do you see me smiling, boss? We have one hell of a problem on our hands."

"If the water starts to wash over, it could wash away the downstream side of the dam and cause it to collapse. What we need is time, or we will have to open the spillway and pray. You don't have to tell me," said Frank.

With a shake of the head, Frank said, "Follow me." With care, he clambered to the walkway on the top of the dam and peered at the water level.

"It's up a metre," said Terry. "At this rate, it will be over the top in an hour or so, and it's still pissing down."

"Let's get in out of this weather," said Frank.

Two minutes later, both men entered the control room. "Don't remove your waterproofs. If my memory works, there's an answer to our problem. Harry fetch me the construction plans."

Twenty minutes later, Harry returned with rolls of plans in his arms. "Bloody typical, these were in the bottom drawer, and of course, I checked that last."

"Doesn't matter," said Frank. "Look for detailed plans of the dam foundations."

"What are we looking for?" asked Terry.

"A manual drain system. Built before the new spillway, engineers would drain a reservoir to clean the bottom. As you know, today we vacuum the crap out."

"That's news to me," said Harry, "and I've been the attendant here for ten years."

One by one, the brown-coloured plans dropped to the floor. "Is this what we're looking for?" said Terry.