The Soul Purchase
The Soul Purchase
A lbertville, Africa 1965
D emocratic Republic of Congo
The hotel lays on the banks of the Tanganyika see on the edge of town.
The army and mercenaries where all collecting beside the hotel.
The international press, weapons dealers, agents from all Secret Services and traders preferred this hotel.
The bar is overcrowded with Journalist's, Photographers and camera crews from all over the world, loud babble of voices raged throughout the room. At the end of the long bar stood a young man looking sadly at his bottle of beer. Another very young man then stood next to him and asked him.
" Excuse me are you the French journalist who lost his partner?"
The young man only nodded his head in reply."My name is Johannes Wiener, photographer for a German magazine, I'm trying to get to Stanleyville. Too commando 52, who are supposed to be securing the town. My partner is sitting over there getting drunk. He'd rather write his reports from his hotel room as on the front line. I can understand that not everybody can be a war-correspondent, but then they should stay at home and write about weddings or something. May I ask what happened to your partner?"
There was a long pause, the Frenchman took a swig from his beer and turned to the German.
"Yes, my partner, he went down too lake one night then they found him in exactly seven pieces, to this day his genitals have disappeared. Most likely it was the "Simbas". It all happened just a few meters from the hotel. Now I'm waiting for a replacement photograph from Paris, who unfortunately still hasn't arrived yet. Oh by the way my name is Jean, I work for the AFP, ( The French Press Agency)."
"Jean, may I call you Jean? What do you think of the idea about the two of us, trying to get to Stanleyville in the morning? I know there should be some troops going in that direction tomorrow morning. Shall we try and get out there with them?"
"Ok, if by tomorrow morning the photograph hasn't arrived, I'll come with you.
They never leave early. We'll have to try and get in touch with a German mercenary called Siegfried Müller. He is in charge of operation "Tshuapa" against the Simbas. You can do it better than I, you Germans understand each other. But one tip, wear some different clothes. Dress like the soldiers and don't take any unnecessary stuff with you. Now what's important is do you have a weapon?"
"No, Shit, I don't have any other gear either, only this city rags."
"Jo, I'll call you Jo, I've still got something left over from my ex-partner, some shirts with the words "international press" on them I can give you them. If there too big it won't matter, better than being too small.
How are we going to do it, I write and you take the photo's, or do we each do our own thing?"
"How do you feel about, with this action we are both bound to our own contractors.
The report for me writes my "partner" from word of mouth in his hotel room, I'll deliver just the photo's. If you help me, I'll use my second camera to take photos for you.
Because I have to send the films back to Hamburg."
"If you do that, I'll try and secure you the royalties for all photo's that are published.
But first of all we need photo's."
"Great Jean, we'll see each other here, in the morning at about seven o'clock for breakfast."
" A re you captain Müller?"
"Yes, what's up, I don't have much time, we're leaving soon."
"My friend and I have to get to Stanleyville and we're hoping that you can take us with you, we work for the press."
"As far as I'm concerned, look for a seat on the transporter. But no guaranties for when and if we get their. Your press shirts won't help much, if the Simbas get hold of you. They'll make a damned big mess of any White's they can