Mercenary Black Mamba

Chapter 122 - Sahels North Korean Human Weapon



Chapter 122: Chapter 16, Episode 4: Sahel’s North Korean Human Weapon

His face was as strong as a dried old tree, his body without a trace of fat and his pupils gleamed like a wild animal. With just one look, anyone could tell that he was no ordinary man. The two hands he had placed over the table were full of scars. It was evidence of the hard life he had lived.

“Instructor Shawn, we’ve found Hadad.”

“Ack!” The messenger, who had appeared from behind the barracks, suddenly jumped backward.

A missile flew past his head and crashed and shattered as it hit the tent pole. It was a teacup that had been on the desk.

“You idiot, I’ve told you a thousand times that my name is Namir and yet you continue to call me Shawn. Should I cut out your tongue? This is why you blacks are useless. You dog, why don’t we call you Tubilis or we can just call each other friends?”

The Asian cursed in fluent Arabic.

“Well, how should I..?”

“Hadad, that punk, is telling me when I should come and go? He needs to be taught a lesson. Tell him that I told him to come.”

“Oh no, please save me. If you, Namir, don’t go with me, I’ll be killed.”

The messenger pleaded with him. He had become well accustomed to these threats being stuck between the bad-tempered battalion commander and the even worse tempered instructor.

“Where is this punk? Is Hadad scarier than I am?”

As he got angry, his dialect changed from his normal one.

“Of course not. He is talking with his staff, so Namir, sir, you have to go to meet him.”

“You idiot, why didn’t you simply tell me that I had to attend their meeting.”

The messenger was crying a river inside.

‘Miserable punk! He’s the one who suddenly threw something at me for no reason and didn’t let me speak...’

The messenger’s eyes rested on the tent pole.

Thick shards of glass were embedded deep inside the pole. The messenger’s body began to tremble. If he had been hit with the teacup that Tubilis had thrown, he would have ended up like that.

FAP’s army instructor Sun WooHyun, wanted people to call him Namir, but he was best known as Tubilis. [1]

In 1974, the ambassadors of North Korea and Libya had established diplomatic relations. Afterward, North Korea sent out their torture crews and instructors to Libya.

A minor figure in the reconnaissance team, Sun WooHyun was sent to Libya in 1978 as a training instructor for the special task force. Afterward, in 1980, he became a founder member of Zimbabwe’s 5th platoon. When he returned to Libya, he was recommended by Gaddafi to be hired as the FAP battle instructor.

When Goukouni’s army was marching to Cortaro, Sun WooHyun left the Tibesti training grounds and joined them. In the Goukouni army, his rank was similar to that of a battalion commander. It was understandable that he didn’t like Hadad telling him to come and go as he pleased.

“Welcome.”

“Why did you call? I’m busy.”

Sun WooHyun responded arrogantly.

“Instructor, there is a scary Asian mercenary in the French army called Kanma. Have you heard of him?”

“I’ve heard you were worried because he was becoming a big complication.”

“The reason we are in a rush is because of him. His highness, Goukouni, is hoping to chop his head off to regain the trust of the rebel troops.”

“I’m not surprised. I’ve heard that he’s killed thousands of our comrades. I’ve also heard that he’s practically wiped out all of Habib’s men.”

“He is an incredible sniper and assassin. We have lost contact with three teams that we sent out for reconnaissance.”

“Hmm, the reason you called me was because of him?”

“That is correct. Finally, a worthy opponent has shown up for you. A fight between Kanma and Tubilis! Only the grim reaper can take on an evil spirit, don’t you think? Ack!”

Hadad’s chattering head was slammed onto the table.

Swoop…The bayonet ripped through the fabric and Hadad’s ritam slid off. The blade had hit exactly the point where the ritam had been tied. Hadad’s eyes became bloodshot in anger.

“Tubilis, do you want to die?”

Hadad pulled out his gun.

“Are you planning to kill me with that toy?”

Hadad glared at Sun WooHyun with stern eyes.

“Hahaha! Kanma is even known to dodge RPGs. Tubilis, do you think you can avoid bullets?”

“Hadad, I told you not to call me Tubilis.”

A knife-like gaze penetrated Hadad’s eyes.

‘Punk, he’s so vicious. I can’t get accustomed to those eyes.’

Hadad’s gaze locked onto Sun WooHyun’s right hand. Another knife was already waiting there. Cowering, Hadad slowly put down his gun.

Tubilis means devil or the grim reaper.

It was a nickname the guerrilla troops had given him after tiring of his vicious training instruction. Sun WooHyun did not like the nickname Tubilis and went on to call himself Namir, which meant ‘I am the dragon.’ In Arabic, Namir meant a tiger.

The tiger is a symbol of valor.

Taking into consideration Sun WooHyun’s fighting style, the nickname was not particularly appropriate. Arabs have a strong sense of pride. The officers of FAP did not want to call a small Asian by the name of Namir.

Hadad’s mouth tasted bitter.

He had wanted to teach the arrogant Korean a lesson but had been humiliated instead.

“For the sake of Goukouni’s image, I will give it up.”

“Ha, if you call me Tubilis one more time, I’ll rip out your teeth.”

Hadad retreated but the tainted atmosphere remained.

“Ah, that temper! I have received reports that the French mercenaries are heading toward Koro Taro. You will have to go out there and survey the scene.”

“You’re telling me to pay my dues.”

“As I said, I am only giving you the opportunity to fight an opponent worthy of you. Tubilis, I mean Namir, will be able to take on Kanma without a problem. Or is Kanma too difficult for you?”

Hadad started to scratch at Sun WooHyun’s pride.

“If you let me have the Tubu clan’s reconnaissance team, I’ll think about it.”

Sun WooHyun avoided giving him a direct answer.

They had heard numerous rumors of Kanma in Boruku Providence. Rumors are rumors because there is no evidence, but rumors spread because there is some truth to them. Even if half his ability was an overinflated rumor, he would still be a force to be reckoned with.

This incredible warrior had been tossed into Chad’s civil war by the French government but he didn’t appear to have a definite side that he was loyal to. He had come to a foreign land and been forced into a war that had nothing to do with him, and he did not want his bones to be buried in the desert sand.

When he heard that Habib had a Jerero Tribe assassin, Goukouni sent out a reconnaissance team from members of the Tubu clan. The 20 teams consisting of 10 men were no mere undisciplined guerrillas. Sun WooHyun had spent 18 long hard months training them.

The Tubu clan from the highlands of Tibesti had always been a war fueled tribe. If they were not fighting, they were hunting. They were so vicious that the other tribes around them had left to avoid them.

The warriors of the Tubu clan were experts at camouflage and using swords.

Once modern weapons and equipment were given to them, they became an intense killing machine. Even Sun WooHyun had difficulty when fighting against three of them at once.

“Understood. I’ll send over the reconnaissance team under my control. If you can catch Kanma, you will become the hero of the rebellion forces.”

“Ha, I have no interest in being a hero to those poor fools who can’t even pay their dues.”

After saying things to severely hurt Hadad’s pride, Sun WooHyun disappeared.

Hadid’s staff all sighed with relief. Soon, all sorts of curses directed at Sun WooHyun came spurting out of their mouths.

“Shut up! You idiots!” Hadid yelled angrily.

“You all hid your heads in the sand when he was here and now you blab on after he’s left!” With his temper rising, he wanted to just kill all of them here and now.

The next day, at around the time, the sun was setting, the Ratel team reached their position 12 kilometers from Trident Rock.

“Stop!” Black Mamba warned.

There was a smoky smell of gas hovering in the air. Ombuti halted the lead camel and the others followed immediately afterward.

In the Sahel, the atmosphere was not stable. Not only did the Sahara winds blow but the local whirlwinds bombarded them relentlessly.

“Captain, it’s smoke from a vehicle. We can’t pinpoint the location or distance.”

“We’ve caught up with them.”

The captain’s face was sour. If they moved without a plan, they could end up in trouble.

“Everyone get ready to find cover, we will move once we figure out their location and numbers.”

“Paul, I will go get the rest of my men.”

Pief started to walk. The captain shook his head.

“You must be tired so just rest. We have enough men.”

Pieff’s face grimaced.

“A mere five men is enough?” He was telling him to stay out of the way because his men weren’t good enough.

“Paul, are you going to be like this?”

As Pieff became angry, the captain turned to look at Black Mamba. As always, he had his eyes closed and was peacefully sitting on the camels back.

“Ssiba jotto! A commander who is wary of the opinion of a private is a story worth the front page of Le Monde.”

Pieff muttered then quietly stayed put.

“Have your men rest and you, commander, can help us.”

“Sure, I can at least help.”

Pieff gained back some of his strength.

The captain didn’t trust Pieff’s men. Battle skills and reconnaissance are quite different. If he were to send out inexperienced men for surveillance, they could be exposed and end up showered in bullets.

The area that Mike and Pieff had partnered up to survey was the north-west toward Kichikichi. Mike, who had been going up a hill, instinctively lowered himself close to the ground.

From the top of the hill, he saw a large campground that had been built along the dried up wadi. The 1st platoon of the rebel army had been commanded by Hadad’s battalion commander to find and destroy Kanma.

Mike clenched his fist twice, then opened up his palm, and pressed down on it. It was the sign that they had spotted the target and to find cover. Having received the signal, Pieff flattened himself onto the ground. Mike slowly crawled back to the others.

“Commander, check out the area four kilometers ahead to the left.”

Pieff picked up his binoculars.

“C’est tank hwaia blu! It’s like an army of ants.”

A gasp escaped Pieff’s lips.

There were over ten large barracks. They could see two retractable field artillery guns covered by a BTR152 and a tarp. On both sides, there were five machine guns at the ready.

“Mike, how far is it from here to the place you hid the supplies?”

“13 Kilometers past the spot they are situated.”

“Jegiral, we’re in trouble. First, I’ll have to report to Paul.”

After getting the report from Mike, the captain’s insides burned. With their current numbers, it would be impossible to fight against such a large army. His mind was drawing a blank at the prospect of having to bypass them.

“We have to go around them.”

The Ratel team had traveled 20 kilometers toward Ekiya. If they had to go to Amju and Tanga to skirt around them, it would make their 15-kilometer distance increase to 60 kilometers.

To stay away from the Hadad army, they would have to waste an entire day.

As the night drew on, the sandy winds became more intense. Black Mamba covered his eyes with goggles and wrapped the dirty ritam securely around his face. After over three months of use, it was now nothing but rags. The smell of it gave him a headache.

“Ombuti, why did Allah make a place like this?”

“Allah never told us to live in this place. The humans who have decided to live here at their own will are the ones who are experiencing discomfort. Don’t humans search for God when they are in hardship?”

Ombuti smiled.

“That sounds like the right answer. I was being naive. Halt!”

Black Mamba raised his hand.

The captain flipped the night vision switch on. 3700 meters ahead, three large boulders popped up clearly in front of them. It was Trident Rock. The captain glanced over at Black Mamba. He didn’t seem to need night vision goggles.

“The army has done well.”

“Wow! Water.”

The eyes of the exhausted mercenaries suddenly became alive. The supplies had not been the problem. Freshwater that was flowing between the rocks was right in front of them.

“Mike, Emil, bring some back.”

On the captain’s commands, Mike and Emil moved their tired bodies. They were the last two who had any stamina left.

“Sergeant, please look to the left of the beat.”

Emil, who had been surveying the surroundings, called Mike over. Mike came crawling out from between the branches of a thorny bush.

He took the night vision goggles and increased the focus.

Surrounding the three tents were hundreds of bikes on standby. The cantonment encased in darkness was dead silent. It was the Tubu clan 1st special task reconnaissance team lead, by Sun WooHyun.

“Nigimi Ddugural, it’s their reconnaissance team,” Mike said trembling.

Of all the places the enemy would make a base camp, it had to be right under Trident Rock where they had hidden their supplies.

“Oh, Allah!”

[1] [devil, grim reaper]


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