talien
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Welcome to the Show: Part 2b – Sebastian’s Story
KHARTOUM, SUDAN -- A few international airlines served Khartoum, but none directly from America to Sudan. Sebastian connected through London.
Khartoum was a large city with a downtown center designed in a curious mixture of "Soviet nouveau" and commonwealth colonial. However, the streets along the Nile had wide sidewalks and large shady trees, and were actually peaceful places for a morning stroll. There were many mosques with large, spiraling minarets from which the call to prayer was broadcast five times a day, starting at four in the morning and ending at eight at night. Sebastian was staying at the Safa Hotel, which was similar to the national hotels only dirtier, with less service and more bugs and lice. Each morning, he would visit the major hotels, as well as the American and British embassies. He posted the same announcement everywhere: "Attention! Missing Persons Alert! Michael Creed of the American Associated Press was last seen on Northern Desert Road. Reward offered leading to the whereabouts and safe return of Mr. Creed. Please contact the American Consulate in Khartoum.”
Sebastian continued on his way to his next lead: the Sudanese National Newspaper Office. There was a slim chance that a freelance journalist like Michael would be in contact with the local newspaper.
The SNNO was located in a large, drab-looking concrete building near downtown Khartoum. Sebastian entered and was immediately greeted with suspicious glances.
"Hello. I'm looking for someone...” he said in Arabic. Sebastian was a little rusty, but he had a knack for languages. He flashed a picture. "Do you recognize this man? Has he come by here?”
The demeanor of the staff softened immediately when they heard him speak Arabic. The man at the front shook his head.
"He was journeying to Napata. Do you have anything on that area?”
More shaking of heads. Sebastian flashed American currencies and the head shaking stopped.
"Speak to Mona," said the man in clipped English, a way of letting him know that his American currency had changed their opinion of him yet again. He indicated Mona's direction with a nod of his head.
Sebastian made his way through the stacks, the maze of offices, to a secluded part of the building. The name on the door indicated Mona Yassin.
An older woman greeted him with a copy of the Sudanese Gazette in her hand. "Hello, are you Mona?" he began in Arabic, "I was directed to you by...”
"Oh, you can use English." Mona flashed him a smile. "I'm afraid your Arabic isn't very good.”
Sebastian chuckled in spite of the seriousness of his mission. "I'm looking for this man." He showed her a picture. "Or any information you might have on the city he was investigating, Napata.”
"No, I don't remember your friend, but I may have something about Napata..." She led Sebastian back into her office, which were actually rows upon rows of file cabinets. If there was a place that Mona sat, Sebastian couldn't see it. "Your brother, I'm guessing?”
Sebastian tried to conceal his surprise. "How did you know?”
Mona flashed a sly smile. "There is a resemblance." Her fingers expertly flipped through file after file of newspaper clippings. "The reason I remember this article at all is that it was written by my dearly departed friend, Rashid Gulsham...ah, here it is!”
Mona pulled the article and scanned it. "This was published on April 8, 1968. Four members of a visiting archaeological team were found dead, with one survivor. They were exploring Tell El-Napata." She tutted. "Another man died about three kilometers east of Karima. He got lost, apparently. A shame.”
"May I have a copy of that article?”
"Certainly," said Mona. Sebastian reached into his pockets but she waved him off. "Please, take it with my blessing. I hope you find your brother. No one ever found my poor Rashid.”
Sebastian hesitated at the door. "What happened to him?”
"He was...killed." The corner of her lips pulled tightly as she carefully avoided implying that the same fate might have happened to Sebastian's brother. "During a rebel uprising while covering a story in southern Sudan.”
KHARTOUM, SUDAN -- A few international airlines served Khartoum, but none directly from America to Sudan. Sebastian connected through London.
Khartoum was a large city with a downtown center designed in a curious mixture of "Soviet nouveau" and commonwealth colonial. However, the streets along the Nile had wide sidewalks and large shady trees, and were actually peaceful places for a morning stroll. There were many mosques with large, spiraling minarets from which the call to prayer was broadcast five times a day, starting at four in the morning and ending at eight at night. Sebastian was staying at the Safa Hotel, which was similar to the national hotels only dirtier, with less service and more bugs and lice. Each morning, he would visit the major hotels, as well as the American and British embassies. He posted the same announcement everywhere: "Attention! Missing Persons Alert! Michael Creed of the American Associated Press was last seen on Northern Desert Road. Reward offered leading to the whereabouts and safe return of Mr. Creed. Please contact the American Consulate in Khartoum.”
Sebastian continued on his way to his next lead: the Sudanese National Newspaper Office. There was a slim chance that a freelance journalist like Michael would be in contact with the local newspaper.
The SNNO was located in a large, drab-looking concrete building near downtown Khartoum. Sebastian entered and was immediately greeted with suspicious glances.
"Hello. I'm looking for someone...” he said in Arabic. Sebastian was a little rusty, but he had a knack for languages. He flashed a picture. "Do you recognize this man? Has he come by here?”
The demeanor of the staff softened immediately when they heard him speak Arabic. The man at the front shook his head.
"He was journeying to Napata. Do you have anything on that area?”
More shaking of heads. Sebastian flashed American currencies and the head shaking stopped.
"Speak to Mona," said the man in clipped English, a way of letting him know that his American currency had changed their opinion of him yet again. He indicated Mona's direction with a nod of his head.
Sebastian made his way through the stacks, the maze of offices, to a secluded part of the building. The name on the door indicated Mona Yassin.
An older woman greeted him with a copy of the Sudanese Gazette in her hand. "Hello, are you Mona?" he began in Arabic, "I was directed to you by...”
"Oh, you can use English." Mona flashed him a smile. "I'm afraid your Arabic isn't very good.”
Sebastian chuckled in spite of the seriousness of his mission. "I'm looking for this man." He showed her a picture. "Or any information you might have on the city he was investigating, Napata.”
"No, I don't remember your friend, but I may have something about Napata..." She led Sebastian back into her office, which were actually rows upon rows of file cabinets. If there was a place that Mona sat, Sebastian couldn't see it. "Your brother, I'm guessing?”
Sebastian tried to conceal his surprise. "How did you know?”
Mona flashed a sly smile. "There is a resemblance." Her fingers expertly flipped through file after file of newspaper clippings. "The reason I remember this article at all is that it was written by my dearly departed friend, Rashid Gulsham...ah, here it is!”
Mona pulled the article and scanned it. "This was published on April 8, 1968. Four members of a visiting archaeological team were found dead, with one survivor. They were exploring Tell El-Napata." She tutted. "Another man died about three kilometers east of Karima. He got lost, apparently. A shame.”
"May I have a copy of that article?”
"Certainly," said Mona. Sebastian reached into his pockets but she waved him off. "Please, take it with my blessing. I hope you find your brother. No one ever found my poor Rashid.”
Sebastian hesitated at the door. "What happened to him?”
"He was...killed." The corner of her lips pulled tightly as she carefully avoided implying that the same fate might have happened to Sebastian's brother. "During a rebel uprising while covering a story in southern Sudan.”