Mercenary Black Mamba

Paul looked at his friend with envy. He had suggested that they take a break from Djibouti, but it was unexpected that he would change the course of Hercules. He was not to be underestimated. His leisurely attitude instilled envy. He could dismiss even the president and the director of DGSE at will.

They say it is better to let go rather than hold onto something. Someone who is able to act upon their will is either an individual whose confidence in their absolute strength makes them immune to the world's hostility or a monk who has been enlightened to the nature of the world.

A male lion can ambulate in the meadow. But an antelope or a zebra has to be constantly on guard. Humans are no different. Once born a man, he would want to live like a man without any worries. To survive, he has to lie and commit wrong acts. A common person has no choice but to adapt to the world and live on.

"My friend, what about Oecophylla Smaragdina, who is waiting for you dearly?"

Paul had such a commoner's worry.

"Hmph. We will meet in Djibouti if necessary."

Black Mamba snorted. He had spent 15 full days in the jungle of Ituri. Not only was he exhausted physically and mentally, but he also only saw the sun for a few hours during the two weeks. All kinds of bizarre spores and pollen had gathered on his body. His body, which was moments away from turning into a cordyceps, desired the burning sun.

Holland, the leader of the strike squad, is a major. Paul, a subordinate, could not openly criticize him. However, Sergeant Samdi, the bodyguard of a Special Military Advisor, had no such qualms. His rank of sergeant was simply because Black Mamba's rank is that of a major. It did not bear any special meaning.

"Shush, you!"

Samdi glared at Holland with his bloodshot eyes. Holland, startled, kept quiet. Holland was not courageous enough to withstand a beast fiercer than a tiger and the gaze of an even fiercer man.

On June 25th, 1985, 14 Arebasa hostages kidnapped from eastern Zaire, three victims, and an Asian hostage arrived at the De Gaulle Airport. The airport lounge, which was supposed to be crowded with domestic and foreign reporters, was quiet. This is because Canal Pli, who was asked to abide by the strong embargo enforced by the government, kept silent.

While DGSE agents took control of the situation, a SAMU helicopter waiting on the airport helipad carried the hostages to the Val-de-Grâce Army Hospital. Unlike other hostages, Lee Kang Chul was assigned a special room with a parlor. Manager Mekisi did not dare to dismiss Black Mamba's request.

"Oh, right. You dismissed me. Did you say it will be a great national loss if the call name is leaked? So please refrain from broadcasting it? Why should I? What has this country ever done for me? I will spread it all! Haha!"

Balisari, who missed the hostage convoy at the airport, gritted her teeth. She had her big shot in Congo, but because of that Black man who was larger than a grizzly bear, she missed everything. Her notebook was empty thanks to that. Belatedly, she went to the De Gaulle Airport to gather what was left, but that was fruitless as well.

She was a persistent reporter nicknamed the "Crocodile of Canal Pli." She had to go through the humiliation of hanging from a tree when she tried to cover Black Mamba in Kadangka. She had her reasons to be insistent.

All she knew were just superficial branches on the fringes of the operation. The call name does exist. He was sent to the jungle of Ituri to take care of the Operation Fist of Justice. He eradicated the cult and rescued the hostages. She did not have enough evidence but was not worried at all. She only needed a plot to nurture, not cold hard facts. The masses preferred manufactured fiction over facts, anyway.

"Would we be all right, Balisari? The court of France has always upheld the government's policies when it came to the people's right to know and the national interest. We may be in trouble if we break that tacit agreement between the government and press."

The photographer, Pignol, grimaced. Balisari was a good person except for her daring tendencies. The desk had only so much control over her.

"Pignol, keep the picture of the Asian bastard who ignored me and hung me on a branch. If the desk rejects my article, I will sell it to Charlie Hebdo."

"What? Are you out of your mind?"

Pignol jumped.

"I am sane enough to recite the entirety of Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream from memory. Don't worry. The government will pay for ignoring the Crocodile of Canal Pli."

"No. What are you expecting to get out of this? Serfund has become the new director of DGSE. You may rot in prison for life. You may be assassinated."

Pignol's face paled. This woman feared nothing in this world after a few breakthroughs.

"Pignol. A man is supposed to have two major qualities: his boldness and penis. If your penis is small, at least you should be bold enough."

Balisari smirked and glanced at Pignol's crotch. 'What a b*tch. Look at the way she talks. This is grave. She is a crocodile that never lets go. What should I do?'

Pignol felt anxious, like an ant dancing on the lid of a boiling pot.

It was big news but the French press was silent. It all boiled down to DGSE's prompt actions. Utilizing all the means they had, DGSE mitigated the mistake of the Minister of Defense Jermain and Director Kabaye.

The five members of the Canal Pli press team had to sign an oath of secrecy. The press was subject to the highest degree of the embargo. The French press was democratic but when it came to national security, they cooperated with the government.

The next day, at noon, Miterang himself appeared on the national TV broadcast. In a rather arrogant way, Miterang announced the details of the fourth rescue operation straightforwardly. Of course, he was reading a transcript written by Bonipas.

The unnumbered French commando, formed by the united forces of paratroopers and the Legion Etranger, executed the fourth Operation Fist of Justice. The kidnappers were an evil armed cult. The commando traversed the Forest of Evil and attacked the lair of the kidnappers located deep within the jungle.

The Operation Fist of Justice eradicated the armed insurgency and rescued the hostages. 14 out of 22 hostages survived. They were all rescued. No casualties occurred during the operation and 698 cult members were killed.

The French army's outstanding arms system, strategies, and intel contributed to the success of the operation. Most of all, the citizens who waited patiently, trusting the government, helped greatly. Miterang emphasized the capacity of the government and the high degree of citizens' awareness.

Miterang's announcement brought about an outpour of reactions across France. Praise and compliments swept in. Some people and the press considered it suspicious that there were no friendly casualties when about 700 insurgents were killed. But praise drowned such suspicions.

Miterang's approval rates soared with no limitation. The trust towards the government and military, which dropped after successive failed operations, was restored.

The press was indignant at losing the opportunity to cover this. The Miterang government requested an embargo and broke it themselves. Angry reporters ran to the hospital, the presidential palace, and the broadcasting station.

However, the articles that evening and the next morning did not differ greatly from the government's announcement. Even in France, there was no unlimited freedom of the press.

Reporters could not go near the hostages. The security department prioritized the healing and rest time of the hostages. Thus, the identity of Black Mamba was seemingly buried in this way. But an incident happened the next day.

On the eighth floor, the headquarters of DGSE, was the director's room. It was nicknamed the swimming pool. The nameplate on the giant mahogany table changed. "Bernier Bonipas" was replaced by "Piel Lagos." The man occupying the swiveling chair was now a slender Serfund, not the obese Lagos. Serfund was the former head of strategies. He is said to be cold-blooded.

"Damned old man. Leaving mishaps in his wake till the end."

Bonipas glared at Kabaye murderously, holding a special edition of Charlie Hebdo. Balisari did sell her article to the magazine after the desk rejected it.

Kabaye remained timid. Bonipas seemed to curse Jermain who let the reporter in, but he knew it was directed at him. Kabaye authorized her press request with his signature.

'F*cking b*tch!'

He regretted it dearly. There is no such thing as prompt regret. The connotation of the word 'regret' inherently conveys a sense of being too late.

He dealt with intelligence for 30 years. He never took bribes or granted absurd requests. His only weakness was his overly energetic crotch. The press coverage request sent by Jermain was an opportunity to promote the government. But it was no easy decision. It was because the handler of the operation was the Call Name. Hesitating, he postponed signing the request.

Then he got a call. It was the lovely Balisari, a beautiful reporter in her 30s who worked at Canal Pli.

"Mon amour, did you see the list from the Ministry of Defense? Maybe we can meet at Royal St. Jermain tonight?"

Mesmerized by her words that came to him like spring rain at dawn, he checked the list. When he found her name, he opened the cap of his fountain pen.

The lust at that moment returned to him like a tornado. When he thought the situation was under control with the embargo, the dastardly woman ruined it all. It was the biggest setback in his 30 years in office. Kabaye decided to come clean. It hurt his ego but he had to apologize to survive.

"Director, I have no excuse. I dispatched all available agents and gendarmes to take the printed material and arrested the reporter Balisari for breaking her oath."

It was not his fault. He was the oldest of the three managers. Bonipas is his junior. He had the trust of the top executives. He was sure he would replace Lagos. But alas, good things don't last, do they? His concrete status was undermined by Black Mamba.

The dastardly Serfund sprinted on Black Mamba. Kabaye's dream disappeared the moment Miterang designated Black Mamba as a national treasure. The promised swiveling chair was now denied purely because of Black Mamba. This shame is due to him as well.

"Damned Koreans!"

One yellow b*stard ruined his future. Kabaye was well aware of the consequences of this incident. When Bonipas secured the position of the general director, envy and greed consumed him. A petty person, no matter in the West or the East, is generous toward oneself and scrutinizes others. They lack the faculty of self-reflection too.

"Manager Kabaye, have you forgotten that phrase?"

Bonipas pointed at a horizontally-framed phrase on the wall.

'Intelligence is the proper function of a government. It is not something to criticize or admire.'

It was what Miterang said when he expanded SDECE into DGSE. Kabaye flushed. Bonipas was already aware of his lustful mistake. He was subtly criticizing how Kabaye granted some perks to Balisari of Canal Pli. France is generous towards the matters of the crotch until it surfaces.

"Mr. President?"

"He is in a foul mood. The wretched woman revealed that it was only one man, Call Name, that was sent in for the operation. It made the president a liar and now we risk Black Mamba's identity getting revealed.

"Charlie Hebdo printed their special edition with a mimeograph. A thousand copies at most. We can purchase them all. The president's reputation won't be at risk."

It was a lame excuse by the head of intelligence. Kabaye felt like dying inside, knowing at that moment he was merely spouting nonsense. He was not fully aware of the gravity of the incident. He felt possessed by something.

"Charlie Hebdo is a small magazine. We can frame them as chasing sensationalism. That's how we can protect the president's reputation. The problem is Black Mamba. Can you imagine what will happen if the intelligence agencies of other countries become aware of his existence?"

"I can. I had the mimeograph confiscated and 90 percent of the printed material too."

"Damned old man! He's completely out of his mind. Was he infected by the Ebola virus?"

Bonipas was consumed with rage. That was not something to be said by the head of the intelligence department. Kabaye did not use to be that dumb. It was strange. A virus must be eating away at his brain. Bonipas, even though astute, could not understand the backward mindset of an old man consumed by envy.

"Kabaye, arresting the stupid woman and taking the printed copies will all be in vain. Adam must have acquired a copy by now. It was already out of control when you and Jermain authorized the Ituri coverage. Why did you even sign the authorization form?"

"I am sorry!"

Kabaye kept silent. He could never say out loud that he signed it to get laid by his sexy lover.

"Black Mamba refused to return and went to Djibouti. Now, how are you going to resolve this?"

Bonipas put down the copy of Charlie Hebdo on the table and slammed it with his palm. Black Mamba simply went to Djibouti to enjoy the sun but Bonipas could only assume that he was angry. During Operation Ruman, due to a mistake in units, Black Mamba had lost 300,000,000 francs. He had laughed it away then. Frequent mistakes in contractual relations have inadvertently ruined Kabaye's future.