博客來Bill Kaye, the fighter pilot’s son, grew up worshipping a wash-up hero of two hot wars and a cold one. As a boy of 14, while going to school in Paris, he was drafted by the Colonel to play a part in recruiting mercenaries, other discarded soldiers of past colonial wars. They were often to be found lurking in Parisian bars in those days. The mission was to rescue Belgian and French hostages in the Congo. The outcome was a blood-drenched disaster, which would resonate for decades.
Bill the adult, distanced himself from that world, to become a happy beach-lover, racing sailboats on Southern California’s relatively gentle coast. He supported his existence owning a small propaganda film company with a modest repertoire of corporate clients. Happiness was his until he signed a new contract promoting an autonomous weapons system. Suddenly the present brought forth the ghosts of the Congo massacre, and today’s survivors who still have scores to settle.
This is a tale of memory, greed, evil, and the blurred lines between reality and fear. Can there be a wall between propaganda and the mind of its creator? Or can only good faith and love carve truth from evil, and bring about the virtue of knowing evil is real?
