Mercenary Black Mamba

167 Chapter 21, Episode 1: Black Mamba's Three Tap Shoots Hope

"The stupid punk abandoned by an angel. Tsk tsk!"

Ombuti clicked his tongue and turned his head. The following story was easy to anticipate. Wakil could shove whatever he wanted into the mouth of the fool who can't tell the difference between chocolate or s***. He could feed him chocolate or s*** if he felt like it.

Swish swish—

The Kukri flashed through the air. The metal rod holding the IV bag split cleanly in two. He prodded it with the end of the Kukri, and the 1.2 meters metal rod broke off and landed in Black Mamba's hand.

"Ah!"

Landre's face changed color. He had cut a metal pipe with a sword as if it was a piece of cake. He hadn't heard or seen anything like it before. It was already too late when he realized the person in front of him was not a pathetic flimsy identity but Black Mamba.

"Black Mamba, I am sorry. If you don't want to make a bigger mess later on, let's end it here."

Black Mamba's lips curled into a slight smile.

"You may have started it, but I will end it. I'm a person who uses my body, so I don't care about a complicated result. I should be the one threatening you, but you are threatening me instead. I'm suddenly getting very angry."

Black Mamba angrily swung the metal pipe through the air. It was not a simple whooshing sound but a vicious echoing thud. It sounded as if it was breaking the air apart.

"I am the tactical director of the DGSE. Do you think you'll be okay after doing this to me?" Landre yelled.

"You're going to be beaten to death, regardless of your rank. Plus, I don't think the person who brought over hitmen in the middle of the night has the right to utter such words in this situation."

"Let's reach a compromise. Whether it's money or promotion, I will make sure to reward you accordingly."

"You're not worthy to compromise with me. First, I'll break apart five of your spinal discs and pull apart your nerve endings. You're married, aren't you? When you have to use the bathroom or eat meals, you will need the help of your wife. Well, if your wife runs away, we can't do anything about that. The medical field has developed a lot these days, so if you work hard for 10 years or so, you should be able to pick up a fork again, someday."

"Wha...what are you talking about? Are you insane?"

Landre's eyes looked anxious. If he meant what he said, he would tear apart his bones so that he would have to crawl for the rest of his life. Based on his viciousness, he could probably do that and more.

"Landre, do you think you got to that position through your own skill? You are a punk who goes around with your head as a mere accessory. If you were an important entity, the organization would not have given you that seat. That is a dangerous position where one must fight against an enraged Black Mamba. Ambition and pride is only great when one's abilities are at its foundation. Wait, why do I even bother explaining this to you?"

Black Mamba glanced at the clock hanging on the wall.

"Black Mamba, what good would it do for you to attack the current tactical director? If you want money, I could get it for you. It's not a problem."

"Shut up. If you open your filthy mouth one more time, I'll start by breaking off all your teeth."

Cold sweats poured down Landre's face. For 18 years, he had threatened plenty of people, but he had not once been threatened before. The detailed and realistic possibility of the threat made his entire body tremble.

"Is it already time for bed? Landre, you just stepped on the tail of an enraged Black Mamba."

Thud—

The metal rod slammed into his shoulder.

"Ugh, if you want to step foot into the tactical team, then you must be able to take on this much!"

Thud thud—

"Damned punk, you attacked the tactical director, so now you've reached your end."

Landre spat out poisonously. The DGSE's tactical team was always known for its rough and cruel operations. Since they were deployed into many dangerous situations, they had been trained to withstand torture for up to two years. The torture training went over methods of overcoming fear and psychological pain.

Thud thud thud—

"Ack..."

It was a triple shot. Instead of poison, a groan escaped Landre's lips. As the torture reached its climax, the pain multiplied. The metal rod sped fiercely through the air. Like the beating of a drum, he matched the timing of the rhythm with his attack.

"Ack, ackk!"

Desperate screams started echoing through the hospital room. It sounded similar to a dying animal. Edel was so surprised that she hurriedly closed the door and went back inside the bedroom.

Even Black Mamba found it hard to retain composure for stage two. It was not a force that Landre could endure. Ombuti turned away with a flushed face. Sun WooHyun, who was beating the commando and the commando, himself, both looked on in shock.

"Save me. Please. Ack..."

Before he could finish the first stage, Landre was already begging pathetically. Black Mamba didn't even bat an eye. He continued to beat him with the metal pipe.

Within a minute, Landre stopped moaning. The stink of urine spread through the room.

"You're nothing but talk. Your bones are weak."

"Idiot punk!"

Ombuti dragged Landre's ragged body into the bathroom.

The faces of the commando eraser's team members flushed white.

The most basic yet most productive torture

It was a fear that crept up into their minds. Sun WooHyun didn't even have to go through the hassle of breaking their fingers.

"Landre, if you answer my questions truthfully, I won't beat you anymore. If you don't, then the beating resumes."

Landre nodded his head forcefully. If the devil-like punk would stop hitting him, then he was even willing to give up his wife.

"Who's the person who had ordered and led the double contract?"

"It wasn't me. It was the previous director, Miguel. Savate Miguel."

"Where is he now?"

"He handed in his resignation and went into hiding. He is at a mansion in Provence. There is an address on the internal reports."

"Alright. Tell me who was involved in the backdoor operation and the double contract, the person who had threatened colonel Philip to stop him from sending a helicopter to rescue us, the person who had leaked our information, and the traitor from the inside. List them out clearly."

A notepad and pen fell in front of Landre's eyes.

"If I approve of your report, I will end it here. Be aware that your bones and nerves are still intact at the moment."

Landre nodded his head like a maniac. His resistance had broke before he had even reached the first stage of his torture technique. That was to be expected. When had he ever been threatened by a beating stick?

Landre concentrated harder than when he had been taking the CPGE[1] test. His activated brain could even remember the address of Miguel's mansion, which he had once vaguely glanced over.

Black Mamba readjusted the metal pipe in his hand as he glanced through the homework he had assigned Landre.

"Why...why? I did my best. Save me."

Landre resisted with his last remaining strength.

There was silence.

Thud—

"Ack!"

Without a response, the metal pipe fell on him like hail. The second attack ripped his skin open. Landre was drowning in his own blood. Again, the pen and notepad fell in front of him.

"Again!"

Landre forced himself to remember so that he wouldn't be killed. However, there was nothing else left to tell. He had already listed everything he knew in the first report he had handed over.

"It's precise."

"Yes, it is. I did my best from the beginning."

"I already knew that."

"Then...then why?"

"You forgot the end punctuation."

"Ah, devil! Ack!"

Landre had just been able to regain his senses, but he had no choice but to let it go again.

Crash—

His head crashed onto the floor.

Goosebumps spread across Sun WooHyun and Ombuti's arms. Even the devil wouldn't be able to control humans the way Wakil could.

"Sidekick, what are those black punks?"

"The 11th Airborne Brigade commandos."

"Pulling out all your cards now, aren't you? The 11th Airborne Brigade, then that must be colonel Tanshe?"

Black Mamba checked for Tanshe's name in Landre's report and took note of it. He glanced up at the bedroom door.

"Edel, I know you're peeking through the door crack. All that running is making me hungry."

"Hehe."

Edel showed up embarrassingly while biting her finger. The cold patient room suddenly became warmer with her presence.

"Black, how about the spicy chicken stew you taught me yesterday? The recipe seemed simple enough."

"Spicy chicken stew? That sounds great."

Ombuti and Edel started cooking while Sun WooHyun started a different sort of cooking of his own. That was the civilized country of France.

On the second day, the hospital, which should have been boiling like cooking porridge, remained quiet. Invaders had charged into the hospital, three doctors had gotten critically injured, and six nurses had been hospitalized with concussions. Plus, their target had been against the people residing in the VVIP suite. Without outside help, something like that would never have happened.

Black Mamba was relaxed. The one who was frustrated ended up digging the well. The person who needed to come would eventually show up, and the person to create a plot would make one. The perpetrator would end up in a torturous situation that they could not imagine, and the desperate battle that he must fight would mature him further.

He ended the phone call with lieutenant Paul and organized his thoughts. As expected, the DGSE, who were fast at receiving intel, had already waved their white flag. Landre's sudden disappearance had placed Bonipas, the foreign tactical minister, in a difficult position. The 11th Airborne Brigade, who were known as rhinocéros, had once again dug themselves into a hole as their name had suggested.

Colonel Robert Tanshe and the 11th Airborne Brigade's chief of staff, Langdon Cecil, had been in charge. With Bonipas, who had been leading the foreign tactics in Chad, they had planned the entire operation.

He glared at the name written on the notepad. It was the list written by Landre. It was similar to the basic stages of his torture technique—the increase in pain stimulation, and the assumption that the pain would go on forever, which made the brain obsess the need for survival. Even if it wasn't Landre but his grandfather, who was in this position, neither of them could have written a more detailed report.

[Backdoor Operation]

Planner: Head of staff for foreign tactical in the Middle East and Africa, Miguel.

Approver: Foreign tactical director Bonipas, the DGSE President Lagos, and government headquarters secretary Jermain.

Additional Approver: Lieutenant general Dimanche, government headquarter chief secretary Montagne, and Strategist Advisor Peron of the Department of Defense.

Those who had attended the meeting regarding colonel Philip's decision to send in a rescue team: Foreign tactical director Bonipas, government headquarter chief secretary Montagne, strategist advisor Peron of the Department of Defense, and colonel Tanshe.

[Double Contract Operation]

Planner: Head of staff for foreign tactical in the Middle East and Africa, Miguel, and colonel Tanshe.

Executant: DGSE tactical five, teams one to seven.

Approver: Said to be a direct order from director Miguel but was most likely based on the orders from the upper ranks.

Mission: Clear out the Ratel team survivors.

Result: Mission failed. Six men that had been deployed to Hotel Le Meridien were killed. Team seven retreated for two kilometers and was destroyed.

Eraser: Black Mamba.

[N'Djamena Legion Etranger information leak]

Ratel team location leak: Major Geofrey.

Intel gatherer: Libya government headquarters.

Deuxieme Rep: Communications director first lieutenant Etang.

In order to allow the DGSE to surround their intended target, they leaked information to the enemy forces. Lieutenant Etang was a scapegoat used to hide the identity of major Geofrey.

A minute of silence passed.

"Damned punks!"

He couldn't help but sigh. It was looking to be out of reach. By saying that they wouldn't take responsibility meant that they were willing to flip the table on them.

He remembered all of his comrade's hopes that he had discussed when they were being brought here by the Chinook. Black Mamba had a different idea. He was drawing a much bigger picture.

Images of Chartres, who had died from tetanus, Burimer who had died from a busted stomach by Ocelot, and Morris who had his lower body blasted away flashed before his eyes.

"Hm, Ocelot!"

The name escaped out on a gasp. They did not say a word about Ocelot. If they brought him up, the problem would become complicated. Only humans could deal with problems made by other humans. If a monster intervened, their focus would become cloudy.

"Wakil, you have a visitor."

At Ombuti's announcement, he was instantly brought to his senses.

"You came fast."

"Chief Bonipas has come, himself."

Ombuti's face brightened. He was a sleeper of the DGSE. His rank did not allow him to look into the face of Bonipas.

"I'll go."

The actual chief Bonipas who they call Serpent?

The gentleman looked down at Landre's pathetically crumpled figure, who was shoved into the corner.

Thud—

Black Mamba landed lightly onto the floor.

The middle-aged man turned his head. He was wearing a corduroy hat pushed down low over his face and a basic brown shirt. It was the outfit of any average man on the streets of Paris. When he lifted his head, he could see the snake-like slits of his eyes.

"Did you kill him?"

"I don't have the time to congratulate you on your hard work."

"Surprising to see that you can recognize a formidable force at your age. I'll introduce myself. I am the DGSE tactical director, Bonipas."

"You know who I am, so I won't introduce myself."

Both men made eye contact. Bonipas' eyes were shooting lasers. Menace shot out of Black Mamba's eyes toward him.

"Ack!"

Bonipas took two to three steps back without even realizing it. He felt as if he'd been stabbed by Black Mamba's gaze. He did all he could to return back to his original position.

[1] Classe préparatoire aux grandes écoles.

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