It was a fine day in Hampshire, the sky was blue with just a few stratus clouds making their unhurried way toward the ocean. At the far end, just before the boundary of Hampshire ends was a busy site surrounded by a swarm of men in hard hats. There were cement mixers and other construction equipment towering above them all but the most eye catching from all this chaos was the enormous bridge of steel and cables. It spanned from one cliff then to the ocean, almost reaching par line already.
"Engineer we are almost at the par line, have you sought consent already?" One of Darryl's hired foreman asked him. Everyone from Darryl's construction team knew that they cannot continue the bridge beyond the par line if the tribe will not give their consent—that was part of the agreement the government gave Darryl when they handed him the permission to build the bridge a year and half ago.
