A several days ago, Saul had met his contact on this side of the border and was taken to a DRI detachment safe house for debriefing.
The DRI (Department of Reconnaissance and Investigation) base was located in a partially-destroyed high school, Cariboo Hill HS. Across a shallow, blasted valley to the north of Cariboo Hill was Burnaby Mountain. Once upon a time, Burnaby Mountain used to have petroleum refineries, tank farms all around the base, and terminals on Burrard Inlet. Tankers then shipped oil and refined petroleum products from the "oil patch" in Alberta overseas and to the US. A few years ago a single 1 MT airburst over the top of the mountain took almost all of this infrastructure out, as well as Simon Fraser University (formerly located at the top of Burnaby Mountain) and the resulting firestorm consumed much of the rest of the suburb of Burnaby. The high school had once been in a forested residential area, now burned-out, and no one lived there save for a handful of salvagers who worked the scattered ruins. Its concrete construction meant some of the buildings furthest from the blast (like the bigger of two gyms) remained intact to be rebuilt into makeshift quarters and the relative isolation suited its purpose well as a base for the operations of a government police/military intelligence and direct action unit.
After being debriefed by another American, a Captain Stone, Saul chose to remain in active US military service to the US Federal government (after vetting). His assignment would be to the DRI team conducing recovery/civil order operations in the Fraser Valley.
Before dawn on Tuesday, 22 JUN 2001, Saul was transferred via blacked-out SUV across darkened streets to a small concrete pier down by the Fraser River where an aluminium bass boat with 2 crew wearing NVGs was waiting. It was not too cool and there was a mist that clung to the wide river. They started off slowly and quietly, crew scanning the river for obstacles as they headed east upriver. They passed under several bridges, a couple vehicle bridges and a couple rail bridges. There were no lights on the shore or on the river, and the dark bridges like most nowadays lacked navigation lights. On occasion they passed by half-sunken hulks of fishing boats and barges. One small fishing boat seemed to be stranded a few metres above the current waterline, caught in some trees.
They passed down narrow channels between islands in the river, some of these islands (the larger ones) did have lights. Finally after an hour's travel at a leisurely 15 KmH they pulled up at another pier, this time more a primitive raft-like wharf made of logs chained together and then secured to pilings. It was deserted, still foggy but it was starting to get light behind the mountains to the east.
Once Saul and his gear was offloaded onto the wharf, the boat crew pushed off. His instructions were to make his way up to the main road at the intersection of 179 Street and the Golden Ears Connector and then wait for pickup, which would approach from the east. This would happen some time before noon. (There were other contingencies as to what to do and where to go if his pickup did not arrive, if he was attacked or needed to break off before then, etc.)
To his right was a timber yard, to his left were houses belonging to what was probably fishers before the war. There were several half-sunken fishing boats stranded along the wooded bank, either out of the water or along the bank. All the houses and the timber yard seemed extremely run down and dilapidated. Some burned-out but not all. Looking at his map he could see if he made his way up the walkway to the tree-lined river embankment (which was about 4-5 metres above the water level) he would be in the parking lot of the timber yard and leading off from that would be 179 St. Continuing directly ahead would be a street, then a rail line, then his first RV point at Golden Ears Parkway. All along the river's edge was lined with debris: logs, trees, branches, parts of houses, etc.
This was a pretty undeveloped area. Plenty of woods and trees all around. A few streets and dark buildings. No lights, no traffic. The sky was light, dawn would break in a few minutes. Birds called from the trees lining the river. The wharf he was standing on was actually in a side channel of a large wooded river island and the south shore of the Fraser. He could smell wood smoke from campfires, and he could see a light on the island. Just downriver was a ferry dock to get from the island to the mainland. (They passed it on the way up, the ferry was gone but the dock remained.)
https://www.google.com/maps/d/...Ghof&usp=sharing
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:40, Fri 20 May 2022.