Mercenary Black Mamba

Chapter 439: Chapter 42 Episode 2 Everyone Has Their Own Form of Justice

Although it was only for a short time, Ulumbo was Black Mamba’s comrade. The Black Mamba wasn’t the type of person to let a comrade’s death pass by so easily. He also wasn’t the type of person to discriminate against a black man, either.

“Bud, do you remember Mondo’s first meeting?”

Paul’s eyes were wide like a little child’s.

“You mean the day the dust storm covered the horizon, and swarm of flies flocked? You used to call me a greenhorn.”

“Hehehe, I was quite angry that General Phillip put you above me. An operation team leader was supposed to take orders from a Private… I’d be like Saint Francis if that didn’t make me go nuts.”

“I didn’t think I would have that kind of authority. It wouldn’t have made any difference had I known anyway.”

The Black Mamba was blunt. Nobody was going to favor a high-handed personnel appointment, but everyone were just pawns in a chess game ran by the oecophylla smaragdina.

“That’s it. I still can’t forget the words you said on that day: ‘I’m a Black Mamba. I don’t put my head down when shooting. I don’t become a burden to my comrades. Even the heroic warrior was once a a mere greenhorn.’ You were one heck of a bold rookie. I couldn’t possibly imagine a rookie Private to tell me not to worry about who’s going to pay for the food. Ha ha ha!”

Paul chuckled. That once-clumsy rookie had now become the great Dubaiburupa. The Private has now become an assistant secretary-level Special Military Advisor. A human being that always possessed the same inside even if the outside appearance changed over time. It was someone that valued trust, loyalty, and cherished promises. That was who the Black Mamba had become. There was warmth in Paul’s heart.

“I’m happy that you’re my friend.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We live in a world where a living man will look for a place to die, and a dead man will be remembered as a piece of memory.

“It sounds like death is an angel. Let’s ride on.”

“Will do. I’ll head straight to the basecamp as soon as I’m done here.”

“Do you need any soldiers?”

“You know it. It’s all a hassle.”

“I knew it. The napalms and white phosphorus ammunitions have arrived. I’ll follow as soon as we’re done incinerating the corpses.”

“Wait, the napalms and white phosphorus are here?”

“There are also flamethrowers.”

Paul added napalm thickeners to the gasoline tank and pointed to the soldiers who were mixing the solution together. The napalm that was used in the flamethrowers have the exact same properties as the ones used in grenades, but the viscosity was different. Generally, gasoline and thickener were blended together at a 50:1 ratio in this local area.

“That looks good. Hey Samdi, pack 300kg of napalm and 50kg of white phosphorus. And don’t forget the box of grenades.”

Napalm and white phosphorus would not extinguish even under water. Additionally, they consume enormous amounts of oxygen. The Black Mamba intended to turn Cenote into a fiery hellscape. The chimera that Area 51 had created was an animal that burns oxygen to create energy. If the dissolved oxygen in the water perished, it would be the end for the creature. There wasn’t one bit of intention to reenter the dirty and sticky Cenote.

Paul’s eyes widened. The volume that Black Mamba had asked for was half the portion of whatever was brought in from Bukavu. It was more than enough to turn two soccer fields into complete ashes.

“There must be some dirty stuff that you kept out of sight. Aide, please hand Master Sergeant Samdi the goods immediately.

“Wi!”

Paul didn’t question them. The Black Mamba had every right as a Special Military Advisor to requisite soldiers and any required materials. More importantly though, there was always a reason for his friend’s actions. Soldiers were busy loading grenades and equipment. Samdi threw Ocelot, no the cocoon, on the cabin and hopped on.

“Hey buddy, seize the day. I’ll heat up the bath water and wait for you in Buni.”

“Shut it, someone might think we’re going out or something.”

“Sheesh, you can’t even take what’s given to you man, what’s with you ringing the rims.”

“Give what?” the Black Mamba asked.

Paul ignored Black Mamba’s words and shouted, “Attention everyone!” The 80 soldiers and 20 DGSE agents working on the field all lined up.

“Salute the Special Military Advisor, the hero of France!”

“Acte!”

The voices of a hundred rough men echoed in Kadangka.

“Gosh, what’s this embarrassing shit. This is driving me nuts. Sergeant Leon, let’s go!”

The Black Mamba gave Paul a pat on his shoulders then hopped on the chopper. Weeeing! The helicopter soared up high above the grounds of Kadangka.

Poooof! Giant flames soared up from the grounds. 600 dead corpses sizzled from the remnants of napalm and white phosphorus. You reap what you sow. There was absolutely no dignity in the barbaric land of Ituri. Asura’s fire pillars burnt down every last piece of flesh and bone of those that refused to abide by human rights. Dregs of lost souls wandered around Kadangka in groups.

Toot toot toot toot! The helicopter hovered at an angle. A 15km transportation can be completed very rapidly.

“Special Military Advisor, sir, we’re at our destination.”

“Sergeant Leon, Sergeant Bresong, well done. Return to Kadangka and wait for further instructions.”

“Yes sir, I’ll dislodge the fast rope.”

“That won’t be necessary, Sergeant Leon, just manage that guy well. He’s dangerous. Don’t let anyone get close, and just shoot him if you see any suspicious movement.”

“Yes sir, understood.”

“The Black Mamba threw himself out of the siding door before Leon could even finish his response.”

“Argh!”

Surprised, the fire control officer Leon instinctively turned his head towards Samdi.

“Take care of the belongings. Adios!”

Samdi jumped off too. Leon stretched his neck and searched the grounds. The Special Military Advisor was nowhere to be found. The Advisor’s bodyguard who had just jumped as well landed on the canopy. The bodyguard too disappeared immediately. Leon shook his head. Legion Etranger is known to have some crazy lunatics around, but who knew there’d be a guy who would jump down from 20 meters high without any equipment?

“Sergeant, what just happened?”

Bresong, who was piloting the chopper screamed in insanity.

“He just landed on the canopy and now he’s disappeared.”

“I didn’t see anything wrong did I?”

“Hey, only ‘Handle with care’ things are left over there.”

“Could the Special Military Advisor possibly be the mercenary legend?”

“Nah, I don’t think so. They say Azrael Kanma is mixed race and in his 40s. Let’s head back.”

Weeeing! The chopper’s RPM increased rapidly as it disappeared towards the northeast direction after sharply reaching a high enough altitude.

A light green object glided down the giant tree like a liquid. The only animals that could climb down a tree with their heads facing down were squirrels, martens, and ratels. The Black Mamba was now added to this list of creatures. Samdi on the other hand, had to practically jump off the branches, relying on his strong legs and arms that were as strong as an Asian black bear.

“Those bastards found Boma and focus fired. Ulumbo stared into them and the chimera launched into action. It must mean those bastards are short on time too.”

The Black Mamba growled after confirming the site. Fragments of shattered Boma laid everywhere and consumables like food and MRE had already been cleaned up by the wild animals. Cartridge cases scattered wherever geographical hiding was possible — with no exception. Based on traces, there were about ten or less bastards, all being Louis’s comrades.

“Wakir, there was a special guy here.”

Samdi pointed to the tree trunk where the Boma had been installed. About one span of Abyssinia shell had peeled off from about three meters above ground-level. There were no gray bears in Ituri. It was traces a chimera.

The Black Mamba discovered the first point of footsteps. The ground just about 10m away from the first point hallowed out.

“Do it!”

“Yipe!”

Samdi jumped. He flew 10m like a cannonball and shoulder charged. Swish! The tree was bruised. The trunks swung heavily and the branches shook as if a large storm had just hit it. The Black Mamba nodded.

“Seems just about right. Let’s go!”

A rough outline was drawn. It’d have to be the chimera that killed Ulumbo, since it shared similar physical characteristics to Samdi. The chimera dropped the Boma by charging towards the tree, then it stomped on Ulumbo’s neck as he reached his final breath.

“Let’s go!”

Tracing the chimera was a piece of cake. Not a lot of time had passed since it made its attack. It wasn’t even necessary to look at the angle at which the grass laid, the broken tree branches, nor the traces of the depth of footprints on the ground. They could simply follow the smell of gunpowder and sweat in the air.

‘Wakir, the bastards headed towards the Serpent Swamp.”

“That’s for sure. I knew it was those bastards from Area 51.”

The Black Mamba’s eyes were shining blue. The MK Project that was driven by Area 51 was surprisingly very similar to the production of Lus Luwe by Kamuge. The difference would only be that one were fanatics of religion and the other to science. The Shadow takes orders from the CIA. It was still unsure how Area 51 and the CIA are linked, but it’s assuring that they were in fact cooperating to each other somehow.

“Samdi, install the antennas.”

The CIA used satellite and high-altitude flying reconnaissance aircraft to track the Black Mamba back in Kaparja. The canopies did not veil the areas where the Devil Spring was located. The Black Mamba had no intention of getting caught while wandering around the area like an idiot.

“Mekisi, call Director Bonipas and connect him to me.”

-Roger.

Five minutes later, the satellite phone indicator blinked. The Black Mamba picked up the handset and pressed the red button. The call was converted to an encrypted compressed communication.

-Yo, I received the briefing. What a clean job. My head’s rolling just from calculating your pay.

Despite the mechanical sound, the Director spoke in a very relaxing tone.

“What’s with Director General Surrey acting like a wuss. Thanks to the main line, the support rate of Mitterang probably went up like 30 percent. The government budget should’ve been saved by a couple of million francs.”

-Jeez, look at you go now. I won’t refuse that, but a government official can’t be much of a gall. Mitterang’s heart is going to get a pulse if he receives your emergency communication. Tell me now. I’m ready to unload my money sack. You can use your body, I’ll use my money.

The Black Mamba almost broke out in laughter. It’s just like Bonipas to be so relaxed and bold.

“Are there any reconnaissance satellites and aircrafts flying over Ituri at the moment?”

-Mm, must be serious. Let’s cut off this communication and wait for a bit.

The call ended. Moments later, the indicator blinked again.

-Sorry for the late follow up. I can feed you information instantly if the four satellite bases in New Caledonia, Mayot, Petit Touder, and Ture are finished. Current time 15:10:30, the Keyhole No.11 is in between China and Japan. Now that I think of it, that damn voyeur patient is spying on your hometown. It’ll be hard for those bastards to move Keyhole. The Dragon Lady (nick name of a U2 reconnaissance aircraft) that took off from Canaveral is currently passing by the Santa Cruz archipelago. It’ll be passing right above ship Victoria in about two hours. There is one medium-altitude reconnaissance satellite over Sudan, but it’s Soviet equipment with poor resolution. You don’t need to worry about the skies for two hours from now.

“Sounds good. Good ole’ Mr. Bonipas, I’ll give you a gift upon my return.”

Bonipas gave the Black Mamba the exact answers he was looking. He deserved to receive something like a wallet sewn from an ancient crocodile leather.

-I may be fired and be disqualified from my public official’s pension, but I can’t refuse the Black Mamba’s gift. Can’t wait to see what you’re gonna get me. Good luck!

“Roger that!”

The Black Mamba had a cold grin on his face once the communication had ended.

“Damn bastards, you picked on the wrong guy. I’m a petty guy that needs to hit you back at least ten times before I can cool off.”

There was no need to wait if there wasn’t any surveillance coming from above. The yankees could only sit and watch if he managed to smash everything and disappear within two hours.

The Black Mamba and Samdi disappeared into the woods like a leopard on the hunt. The 5km trek would be like visiting a neighbor next door, thanks to the Black Mamba’s and Ssamdi’s mobility.

“It’s Agrippina’s shield.’

The Black Mamba lowered his voice.

“What’s that?”

“It’s the most advanced form of modern booby trap and hearing aid. Electromagnetic glass fibers as thin as spiderwebs that are linked to a computer are sprayed on the vulnerable areas around the campsite. When an organism larger than a certain size comes into contact, an electrical signal is transmitted to the central computer. It’s practically the best system for defending camps in jungles with no perimeter visibility. I’ve only heard of it, but it’s my first time seeing it.”

“So you’re telling me the bastards that killed Ulumbo are close by.”

“Likely! There is a high purity magnetite outcrop nearby. I’m unable to figure this out with spatial awareness.”

“Hehehe, looks like Wakir can’t do everything in the Ituri jungle. It’ll be just one idiotic chimera and ten Shadows at max. This won’t even be fun. Let’s just push in and smash them.”

Samdi, who had accumulated practical experience in his own way, was confident. The Black Mamba however, shook his head.

“I said it’s a booby trap. The reason it got its name is because there are poisonous toxins like ‘Photomine’ and ‘Cantarella’ laced onto the glass fiber. Photomines were commonly utilized by Agrippina, the maternal mother of Emperor Nero. It’s created by adding buffon collected from a toad’s lung, pancreatic protein obtained from a pig that’s been hung upside down before being killed, and arsenic acid. Photomine is a chronic toxin. Once the toxin passes its incubation period, it suddenly triggers. You’ll either see your nose suddenly drop or see your hair turn gray waking up in the morning. Or your eyeball will pop out and your face will be all wrinkly while you’re out shopping with your girlfriend.”

“Whoa, that’s horrible.”

You get shivers just imagining it.

“Cantarella is a toxin created by the CIA by mixing spoiled Photomine, anthrax and poison found in an unidentified mineral. Once you inhale glass fibers through the respiratory tract, it disables the neurotransmitter ion receptors in your neuronal network.”

“So you basically become a human who’s brain dead.”

“That’s right. If your nerves die then your entire body stop working. Even if your body overcomes the toxicity of Photomine and Cantarella, there is another problem. Buffon found in Photomine causes itching.”

“You can withstand itch.”

“But you’d have to scratch your skin to a point it’ll peel off and rip your muscles, then ultimately expose your bones.”

“Wow, these bastards are even worse than politicians. Eventually, it means it’ll kill any organism that gets close to them, intruder or not!”