It was a typical West Coast day in the fall, early morning, just after 8 am, and fog clung to the hills of the Gulf Islands in the Straight of Georgia. Ship horns could be heard echoing around the islands, as further north and south of Saltspring Island the fog was still thick out in the open water and the shipping lanes leading to the Vancouver and Seattle ports. The bridge that skipped along the south shore of Saltspring Island, connecting the Saanich Peninsula, Saltspring Island and Vancouver Island just to the north of Mill Bay, was clear of fog and the four lanes of traffic could be seen and heard from wherever the bridge could be seen along it’s length or from the hills above it.
Gunfire rang out from the Saanich Peninsula, one shot, then a burst of fire, then stillness, even the sound of the seagulls had stopped, briefly, before starting up again in the silence. Mike stood on the shore of Saltspring, just a few hundred yards from where the bridge touched down on the shore of the Island, crouched behind a large outcropping of rock.
“Mitch, did you see where that gunfire came from? Was it enemy gunfire? Were they aiming for anything specifically that you could see? Over!” Mike looked up the hill where Mitch was stationed, in deep cover, where he could clearly see the Saanich Peninsula shore close to where the bridge launched from the tip of the shore closest to Saltspring. They would not dare to openly attach the traffic on the bridge, as it was heavily fortified most of it’s length with thick clear walls of almost impenetrable clear aluminum. Bridge security were heavily fortified in their bunkers at the entrance point of the bridge as well, part of the provincial governments armed forces, and attacking them was never a good idea. Likewise the bunkers guarding the exit and entrance onto Saltspring Island, clearly visible from Mike’s location, were heavily fortified, probably containing a dozen or more heavily armed personnel, with nasty looking 50 caliber machine gun turrets ensuring peaceful entry and egress from the island for commuters.
“Negative, they were firing inland, but whoever they are shooting at is well camouflaged and apparently prepared against attach. No sign they are moving, firing back or affected at all. A local skirmish perhaps between rival groups over there, but I will keep my eyes on them, make sure they don’t try any moves on us. Anyone else see any movement from your locations?” Mitch was calling point on this tour from his location above, and one by one all twelve lookouts along the shore reported no movement, in the water or on the shoreline opposite them. For the several hundred feet that the roadway clung to the edge of the south shore before hopping off to Vancouver Island to the west the clear aluminum walls gave fantastic views to travelers, while ensuring local militia could not interfere in any way with the steady flow of traffic. Nevertheless, Mike and his band of 15 patrolled this south shore, protecting Saltspring Island from the possible attacks from those across the water. It had been 6 years since the last attacks and they had tried coming across in boats that time, beaten back into the sea finally, but at the cost of 5 of his fellow islanders killed in the battle that day.
“Good”, Mike replied, “just keep your eyes peeled, I’m continuing to my next check point so watch my back buddy.” Mike moved cautiously along the shore, keeping to the trees along the shoreline as he moved towards a spot about 100 metres further away from the bridge. Mike briefly thought back to 20 years before, when there had been no bridge linking Saltspring Island to Vancouver Island, or Vancouver Island to the mainland. Peaceful times they had been, until those damned bridges started going up, Alberta had joined with British Columbia and separated from the rest of Canada, pretty much causing a civil war that had only been settled for 2 years now, with a lot of violence and killing in those years. The armed state of Saltspring Islands, a vassal of the state of Columberta, having it’s own militia to insure those on Vancouver Island kept to their own side of the water. The other smaller gulf islands of Mayne, Pender ,Galiano and Saturna had joined us in our bid to stay apart and distinct from the rest of Vancouver Island and the mainland and we did very well, but had, in the end, agreed to stay a part of Columberta, with a large degree of autonomy over our internal affairs. But this bridge was a bridge too long and too wide and we would guard ourselves against any further incursions by those wanting our lands.
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