Mercenary Black Mamba

86 Chapter 12, Episode 6: Death is a Mercenary's Friend (Part 1)

The Ummah, who tried to be as loyal to the Koran as possible, had a strongly critical nature. Obviously, the ones in power recognized the Ummah as a secret organization and tried to arrest them.

Both Chad's government and FROLINAT ignored the Ummah, since both the government powers and rebels the same vested interests. The Ummah were unable to gain much power between the two.

The victor in the civil war became the government powers, and the loser became the rebels. Government powers and rebels were but organizational structures. There wasn't a past or future tense.

If the rebels gained an advantage, they would become the government. The previous government would move guerrilla-style as the new rebels. This was the most common situation in most of the new countries in Africa.

Black Mamba understood the two people's conversations vaguely. It was the same anywhere in places humans inhabited. Human matters were about those who wanted to protect their power and those who had problems with those in power. When the public tilted towards the left it became a revolution, and to the right, it became a civil dispute.

Four out of eleven of their team members had died. The rations, which had been enough for three days, extended to five. Those who were dead were buried, and those who were alive had to eat. After that day, there was no telling whether the rations would increase to seven or ten days. The rations dangled precariously, but no one cared.

Paya was Chad's largest northern city. In order to go to Paya from Erra Ekadini, where they had battled in the rocky regions, they had to move northeast through 168 miles of Djourab's desert.

Djourab was an independent patch of desert that wasn't connected to the Sahara.

There was a long path from Massif Ennedi's plains to the entrance of the Bodélé Depression, Koro Taro, which was in the northeast. Its length was up to 250 miles, but its width was only 15 to 20 miles. With Black Mamba's senses and Ombuti's experience working together, they were able to get out of the desert patch in record time.

Habib ended up hitting empty land once more.

Habib had blocked the southwestern route between Nedeli to Kema, but because the smarter captain had headed northeast, three thousand soldiers ended up wading through empty waters.

Black Mamba felt wary about their move the entire time.

They were basically crawling into the alligator's mouth, risking danger.

Was there a need to go to the enemy's headquarters just to receive orders from their own when the trust was broken?

Since they had decided to return, all they needed was to break through the enemy lines. If they didn't have enough firepower, they could steal it from the enemy. Frustration welled up at the captain's introverted leadership.

While they were cooling their engines and taking a break, Black Mamba looked for the captain.

"Captain, I have a question."

The captain turned his head as if giving the go-ahead.

"Why aren't we heading down south? There's no need to communicate. I'll break through."

The captain looked at Black Mamba as though he was stupid. Black Mamba's gaze dug through the captain's as though it was poking through him.

Flinching, the captain moved back unknowingly. He looked at Black Mamba once more. He had clear eyes, to the point where blue lights swirled in them.

'What was that?'

He felt a fear that ran down his spine in that brief moment. Those were the eyes of a predator more fierce than an angered lion.

'Did my body change for the worse?'

Of course, the team and his conditions were poor. He decided he must have imagined it.

What would happen if he fought in this condition?

He had no confidence. Everyone's condition was shot, but what was this rock-like b*stard? He was invigorated to the point it became suspicious as to whether he was human.

"I'm a soldier. I was ordered to retreat from Kanem Province's Salal with our own forces. The current situation makes that impossible. We need to receive orders in consideration of the changed circumstances. The mole in our headquarters is an entirely different matter."

"F*cking hell!"

Black Mamba grabbed the back of his neck.

He felt frustrated, as though he was talking to a wall. They were already chicken thrown into an alligator's pit, but what was this martyr mindset?!

If they had been thrown into the mission knowing that they were going to be bait in the first place, he wouldn't have been this indignant. He would have acted accordingly. That was what soldiers did. They were sent into places where death was confirmed, and they set foot in those places knowing they could die. But this situation, where they had been stabbed in the back, was different.

"Then what was all that effort to return until now?"

"I forgot my role and mission for a moment. The raccoon mission is still continuing, even now. I can't ruin the mission."

"Hm, then are you saying that you'll keep acting as bait and run around with the FROLINAT on our tails?"

"That's not it... But I'll move through a different route after receiving orders."

Black Mamba fell speechless.

He suddenly remembered the Australian ant species, oecophylla smaragdina, that Chartres had told him of. While the old ants stood as the vanguards for the organization's safety, their problem was that the young Ratel team were the ones who were back-stabbed by the old ants.

"We were betrayed. Aren't you mad?"

"I'm angry, too, but it wasn't my commander who fooled us. I trust our commander; he's a logical person. We can receive our orders to retreat after reporting the circumstances. This incident came about from outside interference. You have to admit we can't break through the Salal region realistically. If we try to break through by land, you'd be the only one left standing."

'Oh, f*ck, why's this b*stard such a stickler for rules?'

Black Mamba suppressed the desire to punch him.

"What would you do if I decided to return alone?"

"I'll be honest. You have a call name that allows you to act independently depending on your decisions. It's possible that the people who created this back door plan had your independent return in mind. No, they probably knew that. I can't speak for the DGSE, but there's no way the Department of Defence threw a strategically valuable person like you away."

"Hm, they think I'll escape if the situation turns for the worst?"

"There's no life above one's own. Of course, I know you're not the type of person who'd throw his comrades behind and run for your own sake."

'What a sly b*stard!'

Black Mamba closed his mouth.

He was a wall, a sly wall on top of that. These were words to bind him to his comrades with their lives on the line. He didn't want to talk to him any longer. All of the trust he had built between them had crumbled.

"Are all white people as two-faced as you?"

Black Mamba innately hated being suppressed. Legion Etranger had also been his first time working with an organization. Any organization, especially the military, worked by deferring to the ones in power. He found it hard to understand Sergeant Paul's involvement with the military organization as someone who wished to be a free soul.

In reality, Sergeant Paul's actions as the captain were something that could cause a recall.

The military was the representative organization that acted on orders. If rules were bent in reverse, they became an uncontrollable organization with weapons. Acting on orders was the true job of a soldier.

When Black Mamba began to show signs of discomfort, the captain began to reassure him.

"Let's get some air reinforcements at Paya and return comfortably. We can take a refreshing foam shower at Paya, too."

He wasn't an unmoving wall. He was closer to a fox.

The last order the Ratel team had received was to escape by land. They had to receive a new order in order to change plans, even though their escape through Salal was impossible.

Black Mamba had vaguely sensed the intent of the higher-ups.

Those old men didn't want the mercenary team to return. They had basically shoved the flying chickens that were coming out of the alligator's den back in with a stick.

His unbending captain was being willingly pushed into the alligator's den. Unfortunately, battles weren't a sport. Habib wasn't the type of person to accept a thrown white towel. They had no choice but to fight.

Black Mamba, as a veteran soldier, didn't understand Sergeant Paul's actions. The captain didn't understand either, having become weak-willed after his subordinates' deaths.

Black Mamba's eyes grew fierce.

This b*stard had left the helicopter to be shot down on purpose. Chartres had died because of that, yet he was still trying to shove the team into hell, not realizing his mistakes. He was someone who could only be beaten to his senses.

"Captain, I need to talk to you separately."

"Why? Just say it here," said the captain stupidly without reading the mood.

"It wouldn't look good in front of the entire team."

'Ugh, this b*stard's really going to...!' the captain thought.

Finally realizing the situation, the captain's face scowled.

"Fine, I'll learn from you. It's a family's honor to receive a one-on-one session with Black Mamba."

The captain attempted to stick to his pride if he couldn't avoid it. Even if he was turned into a paste, no one would laugh at him. His bravery to simply attempt to fight against Black Mamba would be recognized.

'Wow, this b*stard's the true enemy.'

Black Mamba snorted. A leader's position was definitely not something just anyone could take up. His immediate response, changing a beating to a training session, was astounding.

"Whoo! Go for it, Captain!"

"Show us the real deal of Krav Maga."

"Kick that arrogant Black Mamba away!"

The mercenaries cheered.

'Yeah, that's right!' The captain applauded his own on-the-spot thinking.

Krav Maga was a fatal martial art that stemmed from Israel, using barehanded and weapon techniques to kill. Its combined techniques and injuries for critical points were its main factors.

The captain took out his M9 combat knife and held it in his right hand as he stood slightly diagonally, using his open left hand to guard against the enemy. It was the perfect defensive stance.

One side of Black Mamba's mouth tilted up.

What was this?

He was begging to be beaten up!

He had planned to end this with a single blow, since they were in the middle of their mission, and he was the leader. He had no personal grudges against him, but Chartres' death had been hanging around his neck the entire time.

"I'll go with bare hands. I'll be expecting your best, strongest attack, Captain."

He hadn't been able to test the Ten Point Continuous Blows of the Five Combines Movements seriously. Any average person had their entire body shattered with a single blow. If they received the Ten Point Continuous Blows, which consisted of ten attacks in a single breath, they were bound to become a lump of meat, but the captain was a Krav Maga master. He could be able to withstand one round.

Ssh—

Black Mamba's weight went against gravity and flew into the air, like taking steps to ride a dragon's back. The sight of him flying into the air without preparation resembled a helium balloon a young child lost to the air.

"Ah!"

The captain, who had been preparing his nerves at a point fifteen feet away, drew in a breath. A black shadow approached him from his peripheral view. This shadow was the reason behind the guerrillas rapidly falling like straw houses.

The captain fell back and threw his sword to the side. The blue blade reflected the sunlight and glistened.

Clang—

A palm pushed the blade away, and an elbow dug into his cheekbones.

"Ha."

The captain's consciousness left him with a single blow. The Ten Point Continuous Blows whirled like a twirling windmill. The raised knee blew out the center of his chest, and a high attack fell onto his crippled body. Black Mamba's body followed the captain's flying form, which was falling back like a scarecrow. He looked as though he was in a sexual position.

Craaaack— Creak—

The sound of slapped skin rang in the air continuously. The captain's body shook in the air in close proximity. The bag of straw fell to the ground once the sounds ceased. He had received ten blows in the time from his sail into the air to his crash to the floor.

Black Mamba frowned.

The captain had already lost his consciousness by the time he was going in for his second attack. The rest of the impacts had been dealt gently for educational purposes. It seemed like a Krav Maga master was no different. The physical differences between him and any average person were too vast.

The mercenaries ceased to breathe.

Six pairs of eyes kept flitting between Black Mamba, who stood without a breath out of beat, and the poorly crumpled captain, who had fainted on the ground.

Sergeant Paul, who was called the strongest master in Legion Etranger, had turned into a pile of meat without retaliating once. Everyone looked as though they knew this would happen.

"Is there anyone else who plans on kicking the arrogant Black Mamba away?" Black Mamba looked around at his teammates with a smile.

"None!" replied five voices as one.

Mike flew out like lightning and laid the captain down in a shadow. It was affection from someone who had suffered the same thing. Bell Man injected heart and muscle relaxants and began CPR on the captain's chest.

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