Mercenary Black Mamba

Look at those eyes. They're completely into it. They're about to throw punches if he refuses, kekeke!

Ahmad tried his best to suppress his laughter. He understood the two middle-aged men's admiration for Ddu-bai-buru-pa. A male's world was a world of strength. Strength in modern society was equivalent to power and money. Ddu-bai-buru-pa had power and money. Although power and money were great, they were temporary. They contributed to more external than internal satisfaction.

Was he lured by power and money? No. The true nature of a male's power that fascinated other males was their primitive power and romanticism. If there's a sauce called hope added on top, it would become a first-rate addictive dish. The two middle-aged men were already addicted to the scent of another male, so it was too late for them to resist.

"Huh, the best laborers possible want to go through labor themselves? That's a grand welcome on my side. It seems like there will be more middle-aged friends. Ombuti and Professor Giz will be happy once they hear the news."

"Professor Giz? Are you talking about the professor of neurology at the University of Paris, Professor Giz?" Professor Orifice asked him in surprise.

"Oui, do you know Professor Giz?"

"He's my friend. Are you perhaps the Korean superhuman Mu-"

"Stop, the world's large yet small. The string of connection exists everywhere. All is one, and one is all!" Black Mamba interrupted Professor Orifice.

Professor Giz was around the same age as his father, who had already passed. Despite the age difference, they were friends who shared their deepest secrets. He recalled memories of the time they had enjoyed a Finnish sauna in the morning on the streets of Gaulle while laughing the entire time.

Friends were friends, and secrets were secrets. While the DGSE confused the world with all kinds of identities and names, there was no such thing as an eternal secret. The unhealthy relationship he grew with the U.S. made him careful. If his Korean identity, Park Mu Ssang, was made known, the people around him would most likely suffer.

"That friend always talks about you. He said that you're a miraculous guy who walks his own path like the horn of a rhinoceros."

"Giz is problematic because he's too affectionate and emotional."

"That friend certainly knows the romantic ideals of life. Five years ago, he joined the MSF after discarding his Emeritus, which would have allowed him to play around all day. By now, he should be sh**ting blood somewhere under Africa's skies."

"It's that very person who stole half of my annual salary. He almost took my shoes too. Ddu-bai-buru-pa, since you're my boss, you need to pay me well. Then, I'll be able to live even if Giz rips me off. Hahaha!"

Professor Shernion threw his head back and laughed with his mouth wide open.

"Hehehe, I'm talented at ripping money off people too. It's social and economic justice to take money from the rich and share them with the poor, right?"

"Right. Money that doesn't move rots. If money rots, the country rots. We need to let the money circulate."

Professor Orifice was excited. He was engrossed in the world of savages where there was nothing to fear, not forgetting the conversation he shared with the relentless man. The heavy mahogany table, hefty wage, the social status called PhD, and the bright citoyenne seemed like a handful of sand.

"This is a request, and you might already know. I'd rather not, and I shouldn't be revealed to the world. What happens to me must be taken to the grave. If not, you'll lose many things."

"Hehe, that's creepy. I'll do that only if you return the 200 francs that I lost to the girl with heavy hands," Professor Orifice said, taking a break from sharing his stories of Professor Giz. Professor Giz had also warned him that the young man didn't want to be revealed to the world.

"Ugh, you stingy old man."

"What are you talking about? I'm a poor wandering scholar. Why's a rich man with 6,000,000 acres of land acting this way? Ah, you have an enormous farm in Doba too. I'll have no problem retiring if I leech off you forever! Kekeke." Professor Orifice laughed.

They were a group with no sense of fear. The Jeep slowed down upon entering the sediment region. Rough bedrocks made their appearance here and there, while the Sahara wind blew away the sand. The tires could burst with a single mistake.

People were moving busily on the other side of the Sahara desert, in the Mojave Desert. A small 18-seater jet entered the airport apron after finishing its run. When Adam and Matilda came down the trap, a black man in military uniform without any rank smiled, revealing his white teeth.

"Mr. Adam, the car's ready for you."

The black guide didn't even bother looking at Matilda. It wasn't ordinary for a young soldier working at a remote location to ignore a beautiful woman. Despite being treated like a shadow, Matilda couldn't care less. She glanced at the guide's emotionless eyes that looked like glass and turned her head.

Damn d*ckless b*stard!

Security guards who worked in the area underwent procedures to suppress their male hormones. That was to prevent honey traps.

The Jeep with Adam and Matilda in it left the runway. The rough desert appeared immediately. The Jeep drove off-road for 10 minutes.

Creak—

The Jeep stopped in the middle of the desert, where no man-made buildings could be seen. It was Area 51, where every country's spies, strategists, and intelligence groups strained their eyes to find.

The Mojave Desert in North America was a highland desert that spanned Nevada, Utah, and Arizona. Located north of the desert was a facility as vibrant as the population of Las Vegas, located south of the desert. Area 51 was that facility. Its identity and existence had been under debate for half a century.

Deep inside the desert of 57,000 square kilometers was Groom Lake Air Force Base, associated with Nevada state's Lincoln county. Located north of the military camp was a vast oval-shaped desert of 50 square kilometers. That was Area 51.

The reason behind Area 51's name—that it was located at 51° on the map—was nothing but a rumor spread to hide the truth. There were speculations of Area 51 being an alien research lab, secret weapons research lab, biological testing lab, radioactive substances testing lab, and more. Despite their silence on the matter, the U.S. government's only response was that anyone who approached the area would be met with unwarned fire. There were several eyewitness testimonies of the death of dozens of people who had attempted to get near the area with cameras in hand.

The black guide showed both of them a keypad the size of a palm. Adam silently scanned both his thumb and forefinger and lowered his eyes to look into the camera.

Clang—

The ground split in half. A pillar made out of metal shot up. When Adam and Matilda got into the elevator, the black man raised two of his fingers in salute and disappeared.

"Damn b*stards!" Adam cursed through gritted teeth.

While there was no way a mere security guard could recognize him, the black man's actions seemed as though he was mocking him.

Adam felt uneasy ever since he received a call from the head overseer, Davis. The special operations team he led in the CIA maintained their independence and acted as a separate division. To give the CIA more power, the Reagan administration divided them into four divisions: Central Intelligence, Operations, Science and Technology, and Resources.

While the CIA's fame grew, Adam's declined. The special operations team led by Adam merged with the Operations division. Head of Special Operations, Adam, was demoted to the head of the newly established Operations division. Adam, who enjoyed absolute power from spending on separate funds, received substantial damage to his pride.

The backbone of the CIA's reorganization and the one responsible for driving Adam into a corner was the head overseer, Davis. The possibility of Davis firing him made him anxious, resulting in high-level serotonin production in his brain.

"Damn Contra, that damn b*stard Abbadon!"

Adam complained while glaring at the elevator button that lit up as the elevator descended.

Head of Special Operations, Adam, had failed to dismantle Nicaragua's Sandinista National Liberation Front in 1979. The U.S. fully supported Somoza's dictatorship in Nicaragua for decades. There was only one reason behind their support, and that was Somoza's partiality toward the U.S. It was an extension of the consistent line "bad guy but my side," very common in U.S. foreign policies.

The people's revolutionary movement, which protested Somoza's dictatorship, grew violent since the mid-1970s. The CIA initiated an operation to break down the Sandinista, a core of the resistance movement. They organized a right-wing rebel group called the Contra and provided them with weapons and funds.

The operation fell apart under the authority of the CIA's special operations team. The CIA got entangled with the Sandinista's hit-and-run strategies and couldn't tell apart friend from foe. Most of the weapons provided to the Contra fell into the hands of the Sandinista instead.

After closer inspection, it wasn't a mistake but a result of failing to go against the flow. Most of the citizens who were enraged by Somoza's dictatorship sided with the Sandinista.

Adam received the blame for the operation's failure. While the Contra operation was still ongoing, Adam was no longer in charge. The operation that Adam had initiated to regain trust from the powerful government officials was Syria's "Cuckoo's Nest" operation.

It was said that those who're unfortunate would still get their nose broken even if they fell on their backs. The Cuckoo's Nest operation, which he had invested several years on, was uprooted entirely by a b*stard called Abaddon. He had spent 1,200,000,000 dollars alone on funds. His precious consultants and agents, who served as national resources to the human network spread across Syria, went missing and were destroyed—all because of one guy.

Adam had already been standing on the edge of the cliff because of the Contra operation's failure. Abbadon simply pushed him over.

"Damn b*stard!"

"Adam, stop swearing. Swearing at a dead man will just dirty your mouth."

Adam glared at Matilda, who had interrupted him.

"Are you certain?"

"If Abaddon is a god, he might be alive. Honestly, I hope he's alive so that I can crush him to death with my hips." Matilda licked her lips.

Damn b****, crushing someone to death with her a**, ha!

Adam clicked his tongue softly. She was as beautiful and lustful as Monroe. His eyes unknowingly strayed to her a**.

The elevator, which seemed to descend endlessly, stopped.

Cling—

C3 flickered on the indicator screen. Adam, the head of Special Operations, no, the head of the newly established Operations division, felt dizzy. That was his third visit to the large facility located 200 meters underground, a place he didn't want to visit.

"Phew, Davis is going to snap at us like a rooster again." Adam let out a deep sigh.

The Cuckoo's Nest operation was a pillar of the Socrates Project. There were many variables to overseas projects. While the window of failure was open, the Cuckoo's Nest operation was an entirely different matter. A natural disaster had upturned the entire nest the moment it was time to savor the results.

A middle-aged white man greeted Adam before the elevator entrance. There wasn't a single black man down there. Adam's gaze stopped on the left side of the man's chest. There was no rank or association emblem. C3-1, that was the only mark on the man's uniform. He only introduced himself as a guide.

"Welcome. Would you like to see the incubator?"

"What about the director?"

"He is currently in a meeting with the committee members."

"Guide, what happened to the experiment subjects we released into the Sahara?"

"They failed. The zombies we ordered to attack around Ennedi attacked the caravans instead."

"What…is that true?" Adam raised his voice in surprise.

"Three humans and five camels entered their stomachs after being torn to shreds. However, this isn't the first time it happened. This time, their primitive nature exploded in a situation that we have no control over."

The guide spoke of the horrible event as though it was nothing but a broken lawnmower.

"Ugh, what the hell! The caravans usually avoided the region around Lake Teli. How did they end up there?"

"I don't know either. A decade ago, we installed a low-frequency rotor generator to chase away animals. Even people feared coming near the place because of the rumor about zombies appearing there. There was no better place to run a test on the experiment subjects. I don't know why the caravans decided to approach Lake Teli. The camels are bound to run away on their own."

"There's no such thing as 'bound' on Earth. There are cases whereby projects fail due to unexpected variables. Have they been exterminated yet?"

"They're uncontrollable. The suicide bombs we placed in their stomachs aren't activating. Their highly acidic stomach fluids might have melted the detonator."

Adam's eyes widened. If the experiment subjects, Grendel, ran to a populated region, the results would be devastating. While they could stick out a duck's foot or keep hush about the matter, it would hinder the main MK Ultra project.

"This is a problem. What happened to the local agents?"

"Grendel killed everyone."

"Damn, they'll leave the lake once they get used to the environment outside. What are you planning to do?"

Adam and the guide didn't bother to pretend to express their condolences upon hearing about the death of the caravan members. The cold intelligence director and research leader who had lost his humanity prioritized the clean-up more.

"There's still some time left. Those b*stards need at least 15 days to adjust to the heat and sun outside. They won't be able to stand more than two hours in the Sahara sun."

"Those b*stards are creatures that evolve on their own. Since they melted the bombs, shouldn't they be able to regenerate skin? What are you planning to do?"

"I'm a guide. Ask the director," the guide answered carelessly and turned his head.

Damn b*stard!

Adam suppressed the swear words that almost rolled off the tip of his tongue. The b*stards who worked in that region lacked humanity and manners. On the other hand, he could finally sigh in relief. He could guess the reason why he was called down there.

"Let's go."

Adam followed the guide through an endless corridor. The guide stopped before a metal door. The light blue metal door gleamed in white under the lights. The guide worked on the keypad. The camera and fingerprint machines were pushed out of the wall silently.