Mercenary Black Mamba

The routes in the Bab al-Mandab Strait were divided by the island of Perim. The route called Bab Iskander, headed for Yemen, was only three kilometers wide and 30 meters deep. Big oil tankers are unable to use this route. The route called Dact el Mayun was 25 kilometers wide and 310 meters deep. Through this route, oil tankers and military vessels entered the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean.

Near the Djibouti shore, there was an archipelago called the Seven Brothers. Strong undercurrents that rushed toward the shore inhibited proper maneuvering of the ships.

The width of 32 kilometers may seem wide, but the usable width that allowed the entry of big ships was only 15 kilometers. This narrow strait was the passageway through which the Middle Eastern oil met the world. Big oil tankers and military vessels occasionally collided and when such an incident blocked the route, the entire world became agitated.

The Horn of Africa, the name preferred by the media, refers to the Somali Peninsula. Eritrea, Ethiopia, Somalia, Somaliland, and Djibouti were located here. France colonized Djibouti in the 19th Century to acquire a stable oil supply route as the country's location was at the tip of the horn.

In front of the Simien beach in Djibouti, the Bab al-Mandab Strait unfurled magnificently. Behind it, a sandhill was strewn with palm trees. The sun glowed in the emerald sky. Only a few clouds were suspended in this vast sky. The endless sea seemed like a layer of silk stitched with golden sparkles. The strait was said to be narrow, but this was because only 4.6 kilometers of the horizon was visible to the naked eye. Or at least that is what it seemed to be from the altitude of 1.7 meters, anyway. Standing on the beach, the seawater filled one's vision and the oil tankers scattered across the sea looked serene.

Under the shade of the palm trees, ten or so beach chairs were lined up. Strewn on the chairs were clothes and accessories except for one. It was occupied by a man. At his feet, a big animal with navy fur was lying obediently. Like a dog, the animal had placed its jaw on its front paws. It seemed to be a mix of a tiger and a Caucasian Ovcharka.

A large black man was squatting next to the animal. The black man's hand moved between his leg and mouth. This bizarre behavior, up close, was grotesque. He was picking up ants climbing up his leg with his fingers coated in saliva and eating them.

The one and only team in the world: Mu Ssang, Samdi, and Dinofelis. Only Mu Ssang could tame an ancient beast like Dinofelis as if it was a puppy. Only Samdi could enjoy ants like a snack as if he was a chimpanzee.

Paul, who had returned to Djibouti three days ago, invited his old colleagues right away. To his disappointment, only Bellman responded. Emil had left for Corsica for a vacation with a woman he met at a cafe. Jang Shin could not leave his wife Hou Ing's side because she had a liver transplant surgery.

The prosperous arms dealer in California and former CIA field agent Adam Davis closed his arms warehouse store and caught a flight over. Black Mamba, his friend and boss, was there.

Of all of Mu Ssang's colleagues, only Paul, Bellman, Emil, and Jang Shin survived the Sahel. Three of the five survivors gathered. They had been enjoying the blue sea, the glowing sun, the Muslim cuisine, and the women of Djibouti for three days, forgetting all else.

It was almost noon. The sun in the middle of the sky radiated massive amounts of heat. Djibouti was one of the hottest regions on Earth. The average temperature was 43 degrees Celcius in July and 34 degrees in December, which was the coldest it ever got. In late June, the temperature rose to 48 degrees during the day.

Mu Ssang wore a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses that covered half of his face along with some underwear and nothing else. He enjoyed the blasting sun fully. It was not a bad choice to come to Djibouti. He complimented himself for his good decision.

Sweat fell like beads down his tanned torso. It was as if he was in a sauna. Dinofelis rose. It licked Mu Ssang's sweat with its tongue.

"Why is it acting like a dog?"

Samdi wondered. Dinofelis fears its master but is also very loyal. It was not clear if it liked the salty sweat or was simply serving its master.

"You know what would be fun? Teasing it!"

Samdi glanced at Dinofelis. Its skeleton was strong enough to withstand a few punches. Dinofelis, feeling Samdi's gaze, hid behind Mu Ssang.

Mu Ssang, switching among many poses, assumed the one best suited for rest. He did not care about what Bonipas was going through. He did not care if the socialites in Paris debated on whether he existed or not.

A group of men and women broke the beach's serenity with their shouting. Five women in bikinis and one man were playing a game of beach volleyball. A blonde woman hit the ball into the sky. This was quickly smashed by a black woman into the opponents' side. They were quite skilled.

The man, mesmerized by the women's curves, received the ball with his face and tumbled.

"Agh!"

His hat and Ray-Ban sunglasses fell off. Gray pupils, narrow forehead, thin lips as if drawn by a razor blade, were revealed. It was Captain Jean-Paul.

"Hahaha!"

The women's exaggerated laughter echoed across the beach.

"Haha! You're out! Focus on the game, Paul. You should look at the ball, not their bodies."

The man with a beard, who was umpiring the match, laughed.

"Bellman, you should focus on your job as an umpire first. You already misjudged the game five times."

"Oh? A sloppy carpenter blames his tools. A bad athlete blames the umpire. Hey, beauties, claim your prize money!"

"Thank you!"

The women huddled. Djibouti is the France of Africa. Everyone in the Afar and Issa clans spoke French. They had no ethnic identity left in their politics, economy, and overall society.

Bellman placed many newly-minted ten-franc bills in the women's brassieres. They showered Bellman with pleasantries.

"Sorry for bothering you with this!"

"Thank you so much!"

"It's so fun!"

The women rubbed their butts on Bellman's crotch and their breasts on his back. They covered him with kisses.

"Wait. Do you have nothing for us?"

The women, who were teamed with Paul, protested.

"No! You have to work for your reward."

Bellman pointed at their full bosom.

"That would be a suitable payment!"

The women took off their brassieres. Their breasts, some bigger than melons and others smaller than watermelons, were bared.

"Whoa!"

"Hahaha!"

Exclamations and laughter burst out. Paul started beatboxing, covering his mouth with both hands.

The women danced to the rhythm. Their breasts flopped. Bellman and Paul grabbed them but the women wriggled out of their hands. Other women also took off their bras, boldened by excitement. The beach became hotter than the sun in June.

The strip show on the beach ended with all five women taking off their bikinis and shaking their butts, lying on their faces. After the lewd performance, Bellman smiled contentedly. He had called five women for four men to induce competition.

Competitors tended to feel more pressure when there is only one loser, rather than many. The women tried hard to not lose. The power of money made even the young Muslim girls strip in daylight.

"It was the best, most tantalizing performance of my life."

Paul put 50-franc bills in the women's brassieres. One black girl grabbed Paul's crotch.

"This is what is being tantalized, not your heart."

The men's and women's laughter resounded across the beach.

"Is that fun?"

Samdi, bored of eating ants, muttered. He played with them in the beginning but his muscular strength tore every ball he touched. After three balls were destroyed, he was not allowed to play.

"Do you want to hang out with the girls?"

Mu Ssang, still reading the newspaper, asked.

"I don't like weak men and smelly women. I prefer the big monk's bead game. It's more thrilling."

Samdi lied. The bead game referred to Priest Dae Woo's psychokinesis. He did not want his muscles to be torn and his bones to be crushed.

"Let's go back to the monastery then. Tomorrow."

"…"

Samdi's face darkened. He liked the Priest but not the monastery. He had to recite prayers and was often told off. He had to prepare meals, recite prayers, train, and sleep every day. The only fun was to hunt hogs or roe deers behind the Priest's back. Saturdays were his favorite. Mu Ssang did not need to go to school on Saturdays.

Following Mu Ssang around was fun. He got to smash things and do fun things with enthusiasm. Here was where marvelous things and interesting events ensued. In the monastery, there was no strip dancing. The monastery was a boring heaven and the world was a fun hell.

"Or we could rest longer."

Mu Ssang drawled playfully.

"Wakir, I know you are going to make me do something hard."

Samdi shrewdly commented.

"That thing must be trained if it is going to guard my home. If it's too stupid, I'll just cook it."

Dinofelis flinched. It could understand what Mu Ssang said. Dinofelis' ability to understand Mu Ssang's language was still not known, but it is likely that the beast could read his intentions. Mu Ssang and Samdi were not fazed after having seen all kinds of things in Ituri.

"You heard right? Your lazy days are gone. I will lead you through the hell I went through. Haha."

Samdi, bored to death, accepted the job. Dinofelis looked at Mu Ssang with sad eyes. It was not the only one looking at Mu Ssang. The women who were playing beach volleyball kept glancing at him. They could not help but drool at his sculpted body.

"Dream on, girls."

Bellman giggled.

"Why? Is his junk out of bounds?"

"Not only that. Even if all five of you tried, you couldn't satisfy him. You may also die."

"Whoa!"

"I wanna die!"

The women's eyes glinted with lust.

"They are insane."

Paul muttered. Bellman meant "die" literally. He wondered if there was any woman in the world that could withstand that monster.

Black Mamba was not interested in the women's gaze but cared about Dinofelis. He had captured it for Samdi but he could never be violent with him. He caressed its head and continued reading the Society section of Le Monde.

[The specialist reporter from Canal+, Balisari, was arrested by the office of the gendarmes for spreading falsity regarding the Operation Fist of Justice. Balisari continued to claim the existence of aliens, Call Name, and cannibals. She defamed the emperor Napoleon and advocated the human rights of the kidnappers. The authorities called for a psych evaluation and she was diagnosed with second-degree paranoia. Per this, the office released her with a fine of 1,000 francs … Piardeau, a human rights organization, released a declaration that criticizes the military for executing even the kidnappers that surrendered … The authorities are still blocking the press from interviewing the hostages, stating that they are still traumatized … The mystery of what weapon could have executed 698 zealots without traces is still unresolved … The media are still clamoring to interview Call Name with monetary offers … ]

Mu Ssang groaned, covering his face with the newspaper.

"I am like an ant that fell in an antlion's trap. My days that were filled with killings are not letting me go. When I am too tired, it will drag me to hell."

"How does an antlion drag Wakir? Even this one will lose its teeth trying to do that."

Samdi poked Dinofelis with his finger. Dinofelis feigned death. After being battered by Samdi's punches, Dinofelis became as docile as a Chihuahua.

Samdi was bored. His master only read newspapers. His friends only hung out with women. The women did not like him. He did not like them either, of course. Paul only brought smelly girls, unlike Ms. Edel or Jin Soon.

Samdi could smell the scent of their souls. The call girls were all attractive and glamorous, but he could smell their rotten souls which he could never like.