What Pegman Saw – Scoop!

“What Pegman saw” is a weekly challenge based on Google Streetview. You can read the rules here. You can find today’s location on this page,  from where you can also get the Inlinkz code. This week’s location is Panama.

Scoop!

The cable-tie bit into my wrists, stopping me saving myself when I stumbled. The FARC soldiers laughed.

“Not far now,” said one of them, “only another couple of hours!” They laughed uproariously.

Their camp in the jungle looked permanent. They shoved me, wrists still secured, into a cabin. It smelled stale.

In the conflict between pain and exhaustion, exhaustion won. I slept, until a boot in the ribs woke me. Groaning, I opened my eyes.

The girl carried a knife.

“Sit still. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Startled by her American accent, I looked again.

“Lucy! You’re Lucy Cullen the girl who was kidnapped!”

She drew a finger across her throat.

“Shh!”

Swiftly, she cut the cable-tie.

“Go west. You’re only five miles from the road.”

“You coming with me?”

She glared.

“You’re just Yankee shit. Rafael, the boss, is my man. He told me to kick you out.”

What Pegman Saw – Integrity

 “What Pegman saw” is a weekly challenge based on Google Streetview. You can read the rules here. You can find today’s location on this page,  from where you can also get the Inlinkz code. This week’s location is Xinhua, China

Note

On June 4^th 1989 the Chinese Army stormed the pro-democracy protests in Tiananmen Square and its environs. Official figures say hundreds were killed. Unofficial figures say thousands. The casualties were not all among protestors and bystanders; the army lost at least a dozen, dragged from their vehicles and beaten to death. Scores of military vehicles were destroyed.

Integrity

My editor at Xinhua News was sleek and plump, his office newly-painted.

“Feng, what is the directive for coverage of the riots in Tiananmen Square?” he demanded.

“They are a false ideology intended to undermine the stability of our great nation.”

He waved a piece of paper in front of me.

“Then why this?”

“Sir, I’m a journalist. I try to be truthful. Dozens of protestors have told me that this is a non-violent action. They’re looking for reform, not revolution.”

“Take it away, and write something suitable.” He rammed it into my hand. I bowed. He was a greedy political appointee, but he was my boss.

That evening I was seized by police. After weeks of interrogation I was released when I agreed to be re-educated by working on a farm for five years.

It could have been worse. I might have been in the Square on June 4^th.