Mercenary Black Mamba

When the information leaked, there was no way FROLINAT was simply going to sit back and watch. If there was a missile team in ambush at the coordinates he indicated, the leakage of information would gain definite evidence.

The Captain didn’t consider Chartres’s injury too seriously.

Mercenaries lived rough lives. Others who whined about a few shrapnel embedded in their bodies were better off tending grapevines in the retirement village.

In a large Romanesque mansion east of Undgar, in a region called Paya Largo, a large shout erupted from the second floor’s office.

“You bastard, go die! No, I’ll kill you myself!”

Habib took out his handgun. At the receiving end of his bloodthirsty eyes was Colonel Ahmud, kneeled flat against the rug underneath him in a grovel. Both of his cheeks were inflamed red.

A subordinate immediately blocked Habib’s path.

“Your grace, please.”

“Move, you s***!”

“Ugh!”

Having been kicked in his groin, the subordinate jumped skittishly before tripping over Ahmud’s feet by the rug. The subordinate scrambled to stand while holding his nose. Blood dripped onto the rug.

Habib started at his subordinate with speechless eyes.

Rage was an emotion. Emotions cooled over time. When the scene changed, his short-term memory similarly forgot things.

“Damn, this bastard!”

Habib threw down his gun.

Ahmud, who managed to avoid death due to the subordinate’s slapstick comedy, raised his head minutely. He saw the subordinate who, upon eye contact, dissolved into a smile.

‘I suppose this was what he was talking about when he told me not to worry.’

The subordinate had earned his pay.

Ahmud had been beyond concerned after being defeated by Black Mamba. It was obvious he was going to be dead by the time he finished his report. Ahmud, who had a great sense of self-preservation, immediately bribed a large sum to Habib’s direct subordinate and secretary. He also altered the previous reports before submission. Ahmud was certainly a man of instinct.

“Colonel Ahmud!”

“Yes, Your Grace!”

Ahmud immediately stood at a salute.

“You f****** bastard, are you handing me this as your report? You managed to lose 57 sentries at Guradi Ridge, 142 members at Toko Toom where the information was handled, 100 at the command post…300 members in total! And that FROLINAT bastard barely managed to catch 15? Does this make sense to you?”

“G-grace, the bastards were a special mercenary force composed of 100 elite snipers.”

“And? Did they shoot missiles and run you over with tanks? Did a tomcat begin carpet bombing; a destroyer begin shooting naval artillery?”

Habib began to make snide remarks once his mood calmed. Ahmud heaved a sigh of relief inwardly. He had lived thanks to the false reports.

“lā ḥawla wa lā quwwata ʾillā bi-llāh (There is no might or power except with Allah). Grace, I swear I fought to my death. I was at the forefront of the battle and was the last to retreat. The bastards were more precise than missiles and more impulsive than tanks. I was able to make them retreat thanks to your wise guidance.”

Ahmud had sent a report which had no indication of his robbed base camp instead of reporting that he had managed to cause a retreat. Habib, who was a veteran of the battlefield, could read his mind clear as day.

“Ha, bulls***. Musta managed to f*** 200 into Uldi Hamarl, and you’ve fu**** up 300 into Bodele. I’ve lost 500 precious warriors. Well done, you two, taking turns. You f***** up s****.” Habib spoke with spit flying as anger rose once more.

“Grace, the bastard called Kanma is- Ack!”

Slap!

The object Habib threw smacked Ahmud’s face.

It was the golden donkey which had been on his desk. Ironically, the statue which Ahmud threw at his subordinate had also been a donkey. The golden donkey, a symbol of wealth, had been degraded into an object of abuse.

Ahmud didn’t do a slapstick comedy like the subordinate. A skill which had already been used wasn’t effective a second time. He gritted his teeth and remained unmoving.

“Shut up, how dare you mention the name of a worthless blackie’s ghost as a Colonel. Are you trying to mock me, or what?”

“That, that’s impossible, your grace, istisna (by the will of God), I’m your servant.”

Ahmud tried his best in order to survive.

“This damned bastard! If you had captured them you would have gained Makumbo. How dare you blame a ghost when you’ve been chased around like a rabid dog, you’ve lost all your subordinates.”

As Habib calmed down, someone knocked on his door.

“Get in,” Habib shouted roughly.

The door opened, and a Lumumba tribe’s man, roughly 30 years of age, walked in. It was Habib’s secretary.

The secretary handed him a piece of paper politely. Habib, who took the paper as though he was snatching it, kicked Ahmud.

“Is this the guy?”

Ahmud, who took up the montage, stared at the paper intently.

It was an Asian dude. He had thick eyebrows, a sharp nose, and deeply sunk eyes, as well as thin lips and a narrow face line to the point he couldn’t be called a Kanma. In fact, he had a face that was more acceptable as Chairman Tombye’s lover.

How could such a man who possessed a woman’s feminine features be called Sahel’s Kanma, Azreal!

Had he truly lost hundreds of subordinates at his hand, to the point of being chased around like a house dog?

In the end, Ahmud shook his head.

He had never seen Black Mamba’s face. He had been busy running for his life in both battles. At the command post, he had immediately taken shelter underground.

“Ha, obviously. I suppose you were too busy running away you didn’t even see his face. You useless s***.”

Habib started to look around for his abandoned gun.

Knock knock!

The knocking sound rang at that dangerous time.

Certainly, Ahmud had the survival instincts of a cockroach and better luck than others.

“What is it!”

An Arab Major walked in. It was Commander Payze of the surveillance unit, who had been led around the nose by Mike.

‘Why is that bastard here?’

Ahmud’s eyes glinted.

“Shuptari Allah! (Glory to Allah!)”

“What is it?”

Habib shouted without receiving his greeting.

Payze glanced at Ahmud and respectfully handed a piece of paper forward. Habib’s face turned red as he read down the report. His hand shook the entire time.

“The Command post was abandoned, and only five survived!”

Habib gritted his teeth and glared at Ahmud.

Ahmud’s face blanched white.

It was the part of the report he had left out in order to avoid Habib’s rage. The situation had only turned worse due to Payze.

“Your, your grace, I had received an attack from heavy weapon artillery, of average size, from the special forces. I attempted to fight back with my life on the line~ ”

Ahmud, a talented speaker, began to work his magic even in that moment.

“Shut up, secretary, put him in jail.”

The moment his subordinate pressed the bell, close guards in uniforms began to enter the room.

“G-grace, I am your servant and friend. I’m your comrade who has fought many battles by your side for the past 30 years.”

“Shut up, you swine! That’s why I didn’t shoot you immediately. Drag him out.”

“Your grace, your grace!”

“Drag him out before I shoot him!” Habib shouted.

After Ahmud was dragged out, silence descended in the office.

There was only the sound of Habib’s harsh breathing. The star-shaped star on his forehead was trembling. When the scar which had healed in keloid moved, his forehead looked as though a fly had attached itself.

Knock knock!

The secretary returned and handed him an envelope.

Habib opened the envelope himself. A rolled-up transmission fell out.

[South-west Tanga 15km, coordinate 216-342 01hr, Helicopter]

Habib’s face immediately relaxed.

This was highly classified information from the French N’Djamena headquarters.

“You swine, if you survive this once more time I’m going to drench myself in pig blood.”

Habib took up the phone.

“Secretary, how many MANPADS teams can we move immediately?”

“There are four teams in the Ungat training grounds.”

“There’s no time. Those fro guys are going to make contact with a helicopter. It’s the best chance to get those damn fro guys and Makumbo in one stone. Call them immediately and send them to the Er Ekdim ravine.”

“Yes, your grace.”

“Major Payze!”

“Yes, your grace.”

“Make sure you arrive in Er Ekdim by midnight to prepare the ambush. Prepare god’s magic and the machine guns, with plenty of grenades. This time for sure, we’re going to kill those fros and execute all the traitors. Do you understand?”

“Yes, your grace.”

Payze finished his salute and ran out of the office.

Habib frowned and began to pace his office.

“Damn, there’s not enough time. There’s not enough time to call the Tombye army stationed in Pada. They won’t arrive in time. That stupid Ahmud and Musta lost too much of my forces. I need to catch those fro bastards even with the loss of Makumbo.”

Habib ground his teeth and took up the phone once more.

Closed in the idea of capturing Makumbo, he had taken a risky move.

His plan to assassinate the entire mercenary crew at once after placing sufficient numbers had been ruined.

He, who did not know Black Mamba’s presence, made the mistake of deploying his armies rashly.

The Ratel team entered deep within the ravine and made camp with their backs to the cave. It was a strategic placement with a night bombing in mind. If they were targeted by a dot in an open space, there was no chance of survival.

“Ha, what are we doing!”

Sighs came automatically from the Captain. If he nitpicked the situation, he may as well have betrayed his fellow comrades. He could barely face them. There was no chaos like now, with untrustworthy headquarters, FROLINATS running after them like rabid dogs, and tired subordinates.

Due to his perfectionist personality, he volunteered to go for another round of sentry. He hadn’t changed the location of the helicopter’s landing despite knowing that the information would be leaked.

He glanced at Black Mamba who stood there silently.

Black Mamba was always in a stance of perfect defense whenever he saw him. He could bounce anywhere in that stance like a tennis ball. This time, he had planned the game with full trust in Black Mamba’s skills. The only hill to trust was Black Mamba.

The Captain observed both sides of the cliffs with night goggles. The rock cliffs about 50 meters in height filled his foggy viewfinder. Both sides were rather steep at a 45-degree angle.

“Black Mamba, conceal yourself in the right cliff. Even if the helicopter is attacked, I need you to observe. As long as there are no threats to our team we’re leaving them alone.”

“What the f****** hell are you talking about! If the helicopter goes down, Chartres’ move won’t happen!” Black Mamba denied vehemently.

“Black, I understand how you feel, but I’m planning to return to the headquarters no matter how many times they deny the retreat. Then what do you think will happen? We’ll all be handed to martial court. We need definite proof as a cause to give up on the plan.”

“Captain, you’re going overboard,” Black Mamba replied with worry mixed into his tone.

“I also hope this is a coincidence, but right now, I can’t trust anything. We can always call another helicopter for Chartres. I am a Captain in charge of my subordinates.” The Captain spoke solemnly.

It was a sorry thing to the helicopter’s pilot, but the situation was beyond saving.

The only member with a good condition was Black Mamba. Mike and Miguel, whose core temperatures (the temperature of the brain and organs) had fallen, were shivering all the way to their teeth.

They weren’t sick, but the varying temperatures and low energy had caused the situation. It was the body’s rebellion against unsatisfactory rest and lengthened tension for longer periods of time.

Emil and Jang Shin were the ones with a severe cold, while Mouris had a strong cough. To have a sniper who coughed frequently…there was no other comedy than that. Bell Man made them sleep by giving them sleeping pills.

Black Mamba looked at the Captain.

The military uniform suited him, or rather, he was a man suited to the military uniform.

He was someone with a unique pride for being the officer of Legion Etranger. Considering his thinning face and red eyes, he could assume the Captain’s emotions at the betrayal even when maintaining his position as the leader despite pressure from all sides.

“Understood. You should expect a beating is anything happens to Chartres.”

Black Mamba shook his fist in front of the Captain’s eyes and walked into the darkness.

“Damn bastard, he’s threatening me. I’ll die by the first punch!” Captain murmured.

Black Mamba became a chameleon. Using the yellow-brown drape as a cover, he immediately attached himself to the corner between rocks. A lizard climbed over Black Mamba with leisure. A desert fox peed on his thigh before walking away.

Even the animals couldn’t differentiate his presence when he was one with nature. The energy of all humanity drained out of him as Higasion Ganzi’s secret nature started to spread within him.

He took a peek at the night sky.

The nessie which had been dozing next to him jumped away, startled. The tail of the Big Dipper had tilted 10 degrees to the right. It had been two hours since he had concealed himself. It was currently 2300.

There was a time counting curriculum in the sniper training regiment. It required the use of sun, moon, and stars. Black Mamba could predict the time fairly well without much margin of error even before he became a mercenary. Using his body rhythm and therefore his biological clock, he was able to see the flow of time rather well.

‘It’s a good thing there’s no Nigerian ant biting my nose.’