Mercenary Black Mamba

Jamal, who'd been watching, felt his jaw drop. An ANO member fought with an assault rifle. The weight of Black Mamba's weapons alone, which could overturn an entire country, was heavier than him. He considered Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa extraordinary for moving with such weight.

Black Mamba had an excessive number of grenades on him—28 French E07 fragmentation grenades, 20 soy white phosphorus grenades, 20 Soviet RKG-3 anti-tank grenades, and 100 hand grenades.

Finally, he assembled 2,000 grams of C-4's to blow up the buildings and facilities. The C-4 was similar to soft rice cake sticks. It could be taken apart or merged when needed. 65 kilograms of C-4's was made into a bundle of explosives.

Jamal's mouth hung open once more. The mountain of grenades and the large number of explosives that had been inside the duffle bag blew away the remaining doubt in the corner of his mind.

The Azrael had descended on Aloadin Lodgings, which had been around for 1,000s of years. The Azrael was the angel of death. It was a fearful creature with 70,000 feet and 4,000 wings. It ruled over the Third Sehakim.

The Aloadin Lodgings was an impregnable fortress that even the French military had given up on. That was a fight between the Azrael and the Aloadin. His breath faltered, and his blood boiled.

"Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa, aren't you going to survey the area? There is tight security around Aloadin Lodgings. There are over 600 armed soldiers."

His master was strong, but the Aloadin wasn't an easy fortress. There wasn't a route to break in from outside. He was worried about his master, who was about to attack without surveying the area.

"I've already heard everything that I need from you."

Jamal flinched. His master was impatient. Sharp-witted, he realized he'd said something unnecessary.

"Then, I'll carry your explosives bag, sir."

"It's heavier than it looks. If you carry it, you'll be a sitting duck for blind bullets. I don't want to bury my subordinate in a deserted land."

Black Mamba assembled an explosives bag from the backpack. He lifted it, slung it over his back, and unified the backpack with his own body by using the velcros as buckles.

"Are you planning to start now?"

"There's no reason to delay."

Black Mamba gave Jamal the high-frequency transmitter and Glock that was once Zaitun's.

"Jamal, hide yourself behind a cover or trench once the battle begins. Use the Glock for self-defense. This machine is a high-frequency transmitter used to repel insects. Raise the switch once I start attacking. You can avoid misdirected attacks, and I can find you easily. Think about your old parents, who are waiting for their child."

Jamal's expression turned into one that was half-smiling and half-crying. The sight of his hometown, Tal Shahan, which was surrounded by olive forests and pomegranate trees, filled his mind.

Think of my old parents? Is my father still raising sheep? Is my mother still curdling the sheep's milk for cheese?

After leaving behind the comfort of his family, he was attacked by mosquitoes and poisonous insects for the past eight years. He would have become a wood crafter within half a year. Instead, he'd picked up the gun as though he was possessed and thrown out his books.

Why did he?

In a daze, Jamal looked at Black Mamba. The ANO leaders had demanded his life. No one had reminded him to think of his parents. Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa had told him to value his life.

Tears flowed down from his eyes. The man was someone he'd just met as an enemy too. However, he'd allowed him to live and trusted him. He even cared for his safety. Until now, Jamal, who was pressured and followed the entire time, had never been treated or trusted like a human.

His heart, which had declined since his submission to force, started beating once more. His life, which had been constructed around hatred and anger, collapsed in a rush. Abu Nidal was an illusion. This was the person he could follow and trust. His tears flowed uncontrollably.

Bang—

Jamal kneeled before Black Mamba. He raised both of his hands and shouted.

"Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa, thank you for trusting me. Hassan Jamal's son, Amud Jamal, will protect Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa's back with his death! I will become your sword and shield for the rest of my life!" he sobbed.

"Woah!"

At the sudden outburst, he hysterically laughed. Jamal wasn't a threat even if he picked up a weapon. Black Mamba was only using him as a substitute guide instead of Zaitun. He recalled the words of trusting another to earn back their trust.

Were father and teacher right, after all?

He thought about how he was left with no choice but to trust others, despite the backstabbing and betrayals he had endured. He took out a high-quality miniature camera from his backpack and handed it to Jamal.

"Jamal, I'm Dong-bang-bull-pae. My battle abilities are beyond yours. If I care about your safety, it will reduce my battle capacity. What you need to do is to film the Aloadin Lodgings. You cannot film my fights. I need you to record the entire aftermath of Aloadin Lodgings after its destruction."

"Yes, sir."

Black Mamba smiled. Now, he could earn the 500,000 francs that he'd given up. Jamal would complete his task, and he would take the money. Black Mamba was also evil for fooling the enemy into granting his wishes.

Jamal, who was heading forth, flinched and turned around. That was the third time. There was no presence. There were no footsteps. In the end, he couldn't hold back and turned around.

Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa was following him and standing five steps away. Every time he turned around to check the evanescent presence, he was exactly five steps away. Jamal's heart turned hollow once more. He was human but not exactly a human.

The creature with the best camouflaging ability on earth was the octopus. An octopus could change its color on a cellular level and even adapt its texture to its surroundings.

Black Mamba's becoming one with nature was of a higher level than an octopus' ability. When camouflaged with the interference field of surrounding objects, he couldn't be distinguished by human senses. When next to a rock, he became a rock, and when next to a pine tree, he became a pine tree. With a higher level of becoming one with nature and fearless steps, Black Mamba gradually lost touch with the realm of human senses.

If he's not the Azrael, then who is he? Why should I know? I've already chosen him as my master.

Jamal shook off his curiosity. So what if he was the Azrael? He preferred the Azrael who cared for him than a God who forced suicidal terrorist attacks on him. Jamal crossed over two more rocky hills while imagining all kinds of things.

"Master, the Aloadin Lodgings is just past this place."

Jamal stopped walking as he was about to go over a rock.

"Hide yourself."

Jamal turned around. There was no one. All he could hear was the blustering wind that passed through the rocks.

"I'm here."

Jamal entered through the crack of the rocks where Black Mamba had hidden. It was an open field beyond the rock. Beyond the open field was Kaparja Valley. It was an elongated basin rather than a valley. Far away, the crash of a waterfall could be heard.

300 meters ahead, a large castle wall blocked his sight. It was inside the valley which hadn't been exposed to his night-vision goggles. Plastered cement surrounded the seven meters high pile of rocks. It was the mark of a wall restoration. Some mortars were sticking out of its side curve. He could also see a machine gun field stacked up on sandbags.

"Hah, look at these b*stards play." Black Mamba clicked his tongue.

A searchlight from the watchtower moved tirelessly across the darkness. A mere terrorist organization had put so much effort into security. Black Mamba laughed after confirming the range of their search length.

"Haha, are they placing their trust in their geographical advantage and Syria's kindness?"

They searched 10 meters in 20 seconds. 20 seconds was enough for an armed soldier to cross 120 meters. From the rock where Black Mamba had been hiding to the fence, there were two to three other hiding places. Even a snail could access the fence while avoiding the searchlight. This meant that the night-time guards were overconfident.

Black Mamba nodded after checking the fence. That wasn't it. A rhombus fence of four meters high stretched endlessly across the valley following the castle's wall. Jamal had said that electricity traveled through the fence. With every 100 meters, there was a watchtower of 10 meters high.

A circular spiked fence covered the front and back of the rhombus fence. It was a simple but effective cover. Someone could take at least 10 minutes to cut down the circular fence. This meant that the searchlight could slow down. It was impossible for the average person to enter.

"These b*stards are not playing around."

The facilities were excessive to even be considered a mere terrorist organization. He could finally understand why Bonipas had whined. They had the geographical advantage and heavy artillery. Several 100s of armed forces under the cause of religious beliefs were roaming everywhere. It was hard to accomplish an air attack due to the cliff's canopy. It was an impregnable fortress in which even the special forces would have a hard time deciding a victor.

There were training facilities all over the oblong-shaped site. There were respective training centers for individual fighting, mass fighting, shooting, invasion, and explosion. Their camps weren't temporary structures but permanent structures made of cement and bricks. It wasn't the kind of facility that a mere terrorist organization would set up. This meant that Assad had funded them enthusiastically and that they had gained enough profits from holding people hostage.

"Jamal, wait here."

Pa-at—

Black Mamba launched forward before he finished talking.

"Ah!"

While Jamal let out a gasp of shock from the sudden movement, Black Mamba's figure was already buried in the darkness. A black shadow flickered underneath the moonlight before it disappeared entirely. It was the movement of a hundred ghosts that Jamal's ordinary eyes couldn't keep up with.

The searchlight efficiently scanned through the entire field, but it couldn't catch up with his fearless steps.

Woosh—

A large creature flew over the fence.

He crossed the individual fight training center in the blink of an eye. Black Mamba infiltrated the concrete building that he targeted. It was a large building that he assumed was the headquarters. He gathered his breath for a moment.

Ruman was silent at dawn. Only animal cries and the sound of running water could be heard. The white moonlight and thick fog added to its eeriness.

Rustle—

Rustle—

Two guards walked past, right before his eyes.

The guards marked down their routine on a corner pillar before returning to the trainee's camp. Five minutes later, another pair of guards appeared from the other side. They also marked their turn on the pillar and returned to the outer camp. It was a shift guard system in which they monitored each other.

Black Mamba distributed his targets. There were 32 sets of 2,000 grams C-4's with combustion agents. He placed two sets for the headquarters and each camp, one set for the weapons and ammunition storage, two sets for the cave that Jamal had found suspicious, and the rest for the generator dam and training centers.

Suddenly, he recalled consul Dijolle Baylout whom Bonipas had asked for. There were countless caves and over 10 buildings in the large base. There wouldn't be enough time even if he searched until dawn.

He'll meet me if he's lucky.

He would live if they met, and he would die if they don't. That was consul Dijolle Baylout's fate. He decided not to care.

He felt several presences on the first floor. There were at least 60 people. He peeked in through the window. A routine shift was being held, and people were moving back and forth along the hallway.

The reason behind his infiltration was to gather data. To earn 2,000,000 francs, he had to take out the grains of the pomegranate[1] before crushing it. He became one with nature and entered the building like a gentle breeze. Bioluminescent eyes analyzed the room as much as it could.

Its interior facilities had quite an assortment. It had a bedroom, laundry room, bathrooms, and even a library. He slipped into the bedroom. Around 20 people were asleep, with guns tucked by their sides.

They were the ones that Jamal had referred to as Abu Nidal's security personnel. The stench couldn't be expressed with words. He pulled out his Kukri, then pushed it back. He could blow them up later. Killing all of them would only increase his labor cost.

He searched the entire first and second floors but found nothing. He couldn't tell what the crawling Arab worms were saying even if he saw them. He couldn't find any hidden document or anything that looked important at first glance.

Black Mamba, who had no gains, thought about giving up before reconsidering it again. It didn't make sense for a large-scale facility like that to have no relevant documents. The villain always created secret areas under pressure. He decided to concentrate on finding hidden areas.

Breathing!

A breath more delicate than a mouse's caught onto his dimensional sight. It was a weak breath, as though it would break off at any comment. He couldn't tell the location. The overflowing presences were bothering his dimensional sight's expansion.

He had wasted five minutes pinpointing the breath, which was beneath the chicken coop's floor at the end of the building. He'd overlooked it several times because of the chickens' life forces. Amazing b*stards. They weren't satisfied with a fortress and had created an underground space beneath the chicken coop.

F***ers, they used their brains.

They were disgustingly cautious. When he carefully pushed the chicken coop away, a thick wooden door appeared. When he opened the door, a black staircase appeared.

Bingo!

He immediately shoved the door away and entered.

Woosh—

He grabbed the chicken coop with his Gorgon and pulled it gently. After dragging the chicken coop back to its place above the wooden door, he went down the stairs.

At the end of the stairs, he closed one of his eyes and opened the door. As expected, bright lights illuminated. A space of 30 pyungs or more appeared. Three blurry white ceiling bulbs at about 20 watts hung from the ceiling.

The space was divided into two parts. The larger room had 10 monitors, and electric devices lined up. There wasn't a person to be seen. He entered the other room. It was a normal office with some office necessities. Pictures of a hairy-nosed middle-aged man and a thin man hung side by side.

A man, who had both his arms and legs tied to a chair, caught his attention at once. There was a video filming device set up in front of the man. There were several torture devices on the surgical tray—extraction forceps, dental drill, auger, pharynxes, and many more. The smell of dried blood reverberated.

[1] Another term for Ruman. Ruman is "pomegranate" in Arabic.