Mercenary Black Mamba

"Quit looking for Allah. Your glorious Allah is the one who brought those punks here to this place."

Mike retorted bluntly.

"The fact that we are still alive is due to the mercy of your Allah?"

"Shut up. Just because we pray doesn't mean Allah will kick those guys in the butt and chase them out of here. He wouldn't even yell at them. God is but a god."

'God is but a god? Is this guy always so good at speaking?'

Emil was nervous. Black Mamba had once told him that when a person changes suddenly or says things he usually doesn't say, then they are about to die.

"Mulatto, do you think we can clear out those punks?"

Mike had very little patience. If they weren't careful, their beat would be exposed. Ruminating about their difficulties, especially being short of supplies, made him grind his teeth.

Sergeant Mike was normal. He was relaxed around Emil. As expected, once Black Mamba was out of the way, his usual speaking habits returned.

"Haha, what sort of shooting are you going to do with that cheap thing?"

He laughed as he tapped the AK47 Emil held in his hand.

"Black Mamba seems to use it just fine."

"You, sergeant, are not Black Mamba. And neither am I."

"Nom de chien, [1] you must be going crazy sitting on fresh supplies with that dirty butt of yours."

Mike was full of regret. Three kilometers away, his comrades were waiting for water with their lips cracked open. It was like being unable to get to the sexy ladies because they were being guarded by a fat mother.

"It is a place with clean water."

It was as Emil had said. Whether it was the natives, the caravan, or FROLINAT, they would all be at the place where there was water. The reason that the rest of the guards were at Trident Rock was that there was fresh water there.

"Emil, status report. It hurts my pride but it is a problem that Black Mamba has to figure out."

"Not having a battle headset is driving me crazy. The damned camel, no, is it that badger that's the bad guy?"

Emil muttered as he ran into the darkness.

At the supply dump in Paya, the camels had caused chaos and stepped over a large proportion of their equipment and food. Among the emergency equipment that had got damaged was their communication headset.

Having heard Emil's report, Captain gathered the mercenaries together.

"It's a fiasco. The place they decided to sit their butts on is at the beat that has the supplies. They are telling me it is two platoon-sized groups."

"It means the leaders of FROLINAT have got their act together. By beating Habib, they were able to gain an additional three days."

Jang Shin pulled his hair out at Belman's words.

"Ah. Are you saying we have to move around with those annoying punks on our tails again? Oh my Allah, please send all the stalkers of this world to hell!"

"Hm, it's going to get a bit complicated. The only silent gun we can use is the Dragunov. The problem is, even if we use a silencer, in the middle of the night it will still make noise."

Black Mamba clicked his tongue. Even with the silencer on, the Dragunov produced 70 decibels of noise. 70 decibels is the sound of five teenage girls meeting for the first time in 10 years. His major skill was now redundant. At the last moment, their plans had been thwarted.

"We can't engage in battle. Their headquarters are 13 kilometers away. Paul, we cannot get into a fight."

Pieff forcefully objected.

"If we wait until day breaks, we may be picked up on the enemy's radar."

Valboir brought up another objection.

"Then are you saying you want to fight their army at night?"

Belman was also in opposition.

The debate continued.

The captain couldn't come to an easy decision.

If they engaged in battle, then the enemy's main army would come pushing their way. They didn't know when they would leave, so they couldn't just sit around waiting. The water and food in front of them were like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. During this desperate time, they hadn't had much luck.

Black Mamba looked around at his comrades.

Pale faces covered by beards, hollowed eye sockets, bloodshot eyes, white cracked lips, they looked like a bunch of zombies.

They had been enduring the harsh environment and ongoing battles for over a month. For the last four days, they had only had a bite of dried dates to fill their stomachs and collected dew to wet their lips.

The captain had also nearly reached the end.

He was on the verge of collapse but was resisting it by sheer force of will due to his sense of responsibility to his comrades. It was clear to see how he would be feeling to be stuck in this position when their essential supplies were sitting right in front of their eyes. Pieff's troops were in an even worse state. Not used to the Sahel, his men had been completely devastated by its effects.

'There's no choice. I have to finish it.'

If there was any other way, I wouldn't let you go, but there is no choice. If you can't use bullets, then you'll have to see a lot of blood.

"I'll go."

Black Mamba put on the backpack and stood up.

"Can you do it alone?"

"Is there any other option?"

The captain shrugged his shoulders.

Of course, there was no other option. If Black Mamba didn't step up, there was no way they could take on 60 men without appropriate weaponry. Going into battle with comrades who were practically zombies? That would be impossible.

"I can be of use," said Pieff.

Black Mamba stared at him for a long time. Pieff had a physique that he could take out with one hand behind his back. Whether he lived or died would be up to fate.

"If you follow my command, then I give you permission to come with me."

"I will."

Pieff collected his pamus, Glock, and bayonet.

"We cannot have gunshots heard."

The captain reiterated. It was a quiet night without even the sound of bugs. The sound from an AK firing is 110 decibels. The enemy's headquarters was 13 kilometers away but it wasn't far enough for them to not have to be careful.

"No problem."

Black Mamba smiled widely and checked his equipment.

One Dragunov with five magazines, three Berettas plus magazines, and his kukri, was all he had. The Glock, that he usually used, was out of bullets.

"Emil, wake me up in two hours."

Black Mamba fell asleep immediately hugging his Drugonov. His ability to sleep or wake up at will was another one of a sniper's skills.

Emil looked down forlornly at his sleeping partner.

It was an innocent and pure face. When that face wakes up, he will become Azura, a spiller of blood. An angel of death who despised murder, Emil's face was full of pity.

"Captain, I'll go too."

Captain glared at Emil.

"Look, I only want to send Black Mamba. Black is a special task force assassin before he is a sniper."

"I can't send my partner in there alone."

"Hey, don't make a fuss. You said the enemy at Uldi Harmarl that were taken down by Black Mamba was highly skilled. Didn't you say you couldn't handle even one of them?"

"For Black, they were a piece of cake but they were scary."

"You are a special task shooter but you are not an assassin. Both you and I would be nothing but a burden to Black. Think about the battle at Er Ekdim."

Emil shuddered. It had been a battle of showering gunshots, screams, and injuries that Black Mamba had swooped in to clear the field and save them.

"What about the Commander?"

"I don't know. That guy is weird. I don't know if it's guilt or what but he keeps looking for a way to die."

"He'll only get in Black's way..."

"Ha, you were the one who said you wanted to follow him."

The captain laughed. Even if there were three of Emil, he wouldn't be able to beat Pieff. It was just his manifestation of comradeship.

"Don't you think they might leave after two or three days?"

"Are you stupid? When day breaks, their guards on bikes will be making their rounds with their eyes peeled as if they were looking to find and kill lice. The only way for us to live is to get rid of them before daybreak, collect the supplies, and getting the hell out of here."

"D*mnit!"

Emil was angry but agreed.

They only had three boxes left of Minimi bullets. Each box contained 200 shells. Three boxes meant they only had 600 shots. In less than two or three minutes, they would be out. He hated the thought of it but it would be his partner's fate to endure another shower of blood.

"While Black Mamba is resting, make sure you get clear observations of the enemy's whereabouts. Wake Black Mamba at three in the morning."

"Oui!"

Emil's answer was weak.

All he had to do was wake up his partner, he couldn't believe it. No, even that was not needed. Special task snipers had a biological clock. When the time comes, their eyes open.

Two hours passed by swiftly.

"Emil, please take good care of my lover."

Emil was near tears as he received the Drugonov from him.

"Partner, don't overdo it. You have to meet that Jjin Ssoon woman back home."

"Hey, she is a younger sister of mine. If you lay eyes on her, I'll kill you."

Black Mamba shook his fists.

"Please be careful."

"I am Black Mamba."

Black Mamba patted Emil on the shoulder then melted into the darkness. Pieff hurriedly chased after his disappearing shadow.

"Mike!"

"Ah! You scared me."

Mike dropped his night-vision goggles as Black Mamba tapped his shoulder.

"Scary punk!"

Mike turned to Black Mamba as if he had seen a ghost. Who would have thought it was possible to tap the shoulder of a top-notch sniper without being detected! If he had been an enemy, his head would have been off before he had time to notice.

Mike handed over the night vision goggles.

Black Mamba shook his head. There were some clouds but the full moon lit up the sky. The night vision goggles would have been no more than a nuisance.

A special task force sniper's eyes were different from those of average people. He could take a picture of the landmarks, and the things moving in it, and store it in his brain. Compared to the average person, he could make an appraisal of the target ten times more quickly and accurately. With these additional skills, he was able to figure out the lay of the land in the blink of an eye. The night vision goggles would be a hindrance to him.

"Commander!"

"Shh!"

Pieff, who caught up from behind, took the night vision goggles.

"Are there any changes?"

"No. The guards on the right switched an hour ago. The ones on the left switched just a few moments ago."

They were 850 meters from the target. There were three barracks.

They were right next to the place they had hidden their supplies at Trident Rock. They had set up camp with their backs to the rocky hills. They were hoping to use them as a barrier if needed. If they hid behind the rocks and attack, it would become more difficult. They would have to figure out a way to clear them with the handicap of not being able to use a gun.

There were machine guns placed on each end of the camp.

When they passed the forest, there were low bushes and beyond sparse areas of dried vegetation.

Pieff checked the road and clicked his tongue.

Beyond 450 meters, there was a 400 meter stretch of open land. The surroundings did not provide a way to get to them undercover. If they were to go out to that point, they would be open targets for their machine guns.

"Their leader is top-notch," Pieff exclaimed as he observed the surroundings.

They had picked the perfect spot with the perfect defense set up. His assumption that the guerrilla troops would be sloppy quickly disappeared.

"Either side won't be able to communicate with each other."

"It means their discipline is phenomenal. It will be impossible to get through."

Pieff's face grew dark.

"Commander, I will stay behind."

"No, if gunshots are fired, everything will be ruined. Plus, Black Mamba is in charge of operations," Pieff interrupted.

Mike glanced over at Black Mamba.

Black Mamba, who peacefully had his eyes closed, suddenly opened them.

"It's too far to check how many there are. It looks to be around 50 men. There are about four who are still awake and two standing guard."

"Black Mamba, do you have a way to get in? We don't have much time."

"How do we get through the open area?"

Black Mamba didn't even glance at the two desperate people and instead looked at the moon in the West. It looked like today was another day that he had to drench himself in blood.

'How lonely!'

The Ratel team members had all been drenched in blood together. Being united was a big help in itself. Even if the second-hand passes by quickly, you can still tell the time by the hour and minute hands. There were no mavericks.

"Black, what are you planning to do?"

"Charge in, beat them and capture them."

"That's an excellent plan."

Mike laughed with his teeth exposed to the irresponsible statement.

"Mike, go back to the team."

Mike shook his head. This was a chance to finally see blood. He was offended by the suggestion to go back.

"You are a private and I am a sergeant. Ack!"

His stern exclamation was met with a heavy blow to his neck. Mike, struck with precision and force, collapsed.

"Oh!"

Pieff jumped back in surprise.

[1] worse than a dog