Mercenary Black Mamba - Chapter 276

Chapter 276: Chapter 31, Episode 7: National Treasure

The captive was swept up in extreme fear after being exposed to Black Mamba’s bloodlust. Black Mamba grabbed the captive’s head with both of his hands.

Boom—

He directed his resonance waves into the captive’s brain. The experiences from being swept into the underground by the lake water and enduring 47 days of hardships while wandering the underground caves had enhanced his mental ability.

His resonance waves got stronger because of his enhanced mental ability. His resonance waves spread throughout the captive’s nervous system, which was unstable due to fear. The captive’s brain lost its capability to think. Like a child, he was ready to answer the questions.

“Ahmad, translate. If you answer the questions nicely, I won’t shove you down to hell. I’ll give you food and let you rest.”

“Yes, sir!”

The captive’s expression relaxed after hearing Ahmad’s translation.

“Your name and company?”

“I’m officer Amadi from the 12th brigade of the Syrian Border Guards,” the captive replied without realizing what he was saying.

“Ahmad, confirm the number and deployment of the Syrian Border Guards.”

“Yes, sir!”

Ahmad and the captive’s conversation continued for a long time.

“Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa, I’ve finished. Should I kill him?”

“What’s the point of killing him? I promised him his life.”

Jamal covered the captive’s face and tied his hands and feet before shoving him between the rocks. Ecjose could only watch from afar.

“Sir, this region is called Nahob Hyrang. It’s under the control of the border guards from the seventh unit of the 12th brigade, with 1,200 guards watching over six kilometers. The entire brigade has 6,000 members, and they own a tank battalion.”

“It’s rather packed since the area is by the Hatay borders. Their firearms?”

“They have RPG-7s, Sagger anti-tank guided missiles, 75-millimeters artillery, and 106-millimeters artillery as their support weapons. On a side note, the Third Panzer Brigade’s T-55’s, 20 T-62’s, and 10 BMP-1’s are stationed strategically along Sawran. In an emergency, the Heliborne Battalion in Tell Rifaat that is 60 kilometers away should come to assist.”

Ahmad was smart. He summarized the information told by the captive and only relayed the necessary details.

“An infantry brigade with a tank battalion? Did they learn their lesson from their defeat in the Yom Kippur War? Major Ecjose, how long will it take for the Heliborne Battalion to arrive as reinforcements from 60 kilometers away?”

“They’ll take at least 50 minutes, sir, considering the Syrian Army’s lazy attitude. 40 minutes to move out, and 10 minutes to pray to Allah,” major Ecjose, who had zoned out and was startled out of his musings, replied.

Ecjose didn’t know what was going on. When they had first met, the young Asian, who had risen to an unbelievably high position, was an unpleasant sight. In other words, he had been jealous.

His jealousy didn’t last long. He was moved by the just and humane side of the advisor, who had willingly saved over 100 Syrians whose lives were on the line. However, that wasn’t all. He was also drawn to Black Mamba’s unimaginable physical abilities and his natural majestic aura, which was similar to a lion.

The captive, whom he’d convinced and threatened, started staring at the advisor’s face. He didn’t even threaten the man. Was it hypnosis? That couldn’t be. There was no single hypnosis in the world that could be carried out in the blink of an eye. Ecjose realized the world was truly vast.

“What about the formation of the Syrian Army’s Heliborne Battalion?”

“The Syrian Air Battalion follows the Soviet Union’s regime. They have 18 attack helicopters and six transport helicopters.”

Black Mamba nodded. The number of deployed forces around the narrow region was overboard. 18 attack helicopters could fight against 180 tanks.

“Hm, they’re going for an offensive defense instead of a counter-defense. They’re planning to land an impactful blow using the Syrian Army’s signature sequestration tactic. Assad’s determination to reacquire Hatay is commendable.”

He could almost understand Assad’s intentions. Assad had planned to throw the biological and chemical weapons in Turkey and swallow Hatay while Turkey descended into chaos. Black Mamba was the person who had unintentionally shattered Assad’s dream.

The location of the biological and chemical weapons storage facility was revealed after he had coincidentally captured Jamal. Assad’s greed became a momentary dream with the disappearance of the biological and chemical weapons. He now understood Bonipas’ comments regarding Turkey’s enthusiastic cooperation. Turkey’s intelligence agency couldn’t have known the existence of those biological and chemical weapons, after all.

Black Mamba started thinking. Hatay’s border alongside an organized offensive battalion was like an iron fortress. He could escape with his eyes closed. However, he had a large lump of 540 people. What if they were bombarded? There could be horrible results. He’d have to suffer a lifetime worth of guilt.

“Advisor!”

“Hm?”

Black Mamba broke away from his thoughts and turned to look at Ecjose.

“Why don’t we use the operative agents to attack the Syrian tank battalion? We can pit them against Turkey and escape during the chaos. I brought an 81-millimeters LLR Brandt mortar and an 84-millimeters M2CG, just in case.”

“Attacking in the East and escaping through the West, that’s a good idea.” Black Mamba slapped his knee.

Hatay was positioned along the Turkey-Syria border and stretched out like a rubber band. It was an area filled with sparks. It could ignite well on its own, as long as he landed a direct blow. Ecjose’s foolish brain had come up with a good idea. What a cute b*stard!

“Is it a rocket booster shell?”

The 84-millimeters M2CG was a good recoilless gun, but it was single-shots handicapped. Even if the shell didn’t land on a tank in one shot, it had to be discarded. The rocket shell was a powerful shaped charge with a range of 1,000 meters. With the penetrating power of 650-millimeters steel plates, rocket shells could survive the 350-millimeters T-62’s front armor and more. Regular high explosives were short-ranged and harder to use against tanks.

“Yes, sir. There are 10 rocket shells and two high explosives.”

“That’s good. Are there any Brandt mortars in the embassy?”

“Yes, there’s a lot of mad b*stards in Arab, after all. Once, there was a crazy b*stard who loaded explosives inside his truck and drove right in. Mortars are the best threats. However, it’s too heavy to be carried around.”

“Five boxes of bullets with a 42-kilograms body should be around 100 kilograms. That won’t be a problem. Call the operative agents over to prepare the weapons. Jamal, bring me a map.”

Jamal opened a 1:7,000 military map. The Nahob region was elevated to the south and grounded to the west. While the Syrian terrain was around 500 to 800 meters above sea level, Turkey’s terrain was a flatland with an altitude of 200 meters. The terrain would be disadvantageous for Turkey if a war broke out.

There was a long stretch of low hills and ergs located 40 kilometers across from Orababa and Haman. The three-kilometers wide road in Nahob Hyrang was the DMZ between the two countries.

“Ahmad, does the captive know anything about the tanks’ deployment?”

“He doesn’t know much.”

A mere officer couldn’t have known the deployment formation. He’d only asked because he was hopeful. Now, he had to trouble himself to check.

“Advisor, I’m sorry, but none of the operatives know how to handle the M2CG,” Ecjose reported with a frown.

“All DGSE members are idiots.”

“Of course, sir. They know nothing besides backstabbing people,” Ecjose agreed. He strongly sympathized with them.

In every country, soldiers were not fond of the members of the intelligence department.

“Ahmad, call the Kurd tribe warriors over.”

The silent Black Mamba thought it was good news. Bonipas could lower his paycheck with the excuse that the DGSE had helped out on the field. He didn’t know that the French government was ready to take off their underwear for him when needed.

The RPG-7 or the Panzerfaust was the guerrillas’ magic wand. The Kurd tribe warriors who had a lot of experience in mountain battles would find it familiar. Ibrahim had brought along nine tribe members. There were seven men and two women.

“Ibrahim, do any of your warriors know how to handle the M2CG Panzer?”

“If you’re talking about Panzers, we’ve once dealt with the Panzer 100 and Panzer 150. It’s a new model, but there won’t be a problem if you teach us how to use it.”

“There’s no significant difference aside from its range and power. Remove the projectile protection cap. Attach it to the launcher. Raise the front grip, sight, and trigger of the launcher. Load firmly. Put the target into the sight-reading piper and fire. Discard the launcher and escape quickly. Easy, right?”

“Yes, sir, it’s easy. There won’t be a problem.”

A smile lingered on Ibrahim’s face as he answered cheerfully. Surprisingly, the young Mahdi had plenty of cute traits. He was funny and made one feel comfortable. He didn’t flaunt his position and would lead the front despite the risks. Aside from respect, he started feeling a sense of familiarity with Black Mamba.

“Good. I, Jamal, and Ahmad are going. Only seven fast-footed warriors should come along. Major, pass over any spare rifles to the warriors.”

Ecjose handed Kalashnikovs to the Kurd tribe warriors. Black Mamba smiled at him. He was a careful person. He intended not to leave behind any traces of involvement.

“Aishe, the Panzer weighs over 10 kilograms. Will you be able to run with it?” Black Mamba asked Aishe, who had volunteered to follow him.

“There’s no problem. Once, I ran around with a 20-kilograms ammunition box. I can do anything for Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa and my siblings.” Aishe laughed.

It was a hearty laugh. She reminded him of Jin Soon, who had raised her four siblings since the age of 10. Four years had passed since Ibrahim’s tribe settled around Maydanki Lake. He couldn’t imagine how young Aishe must have been when she started picking up the rifle. He pitied her for the hardships that she had to suffer through.

“Jamal, did you get the grenades?”

“Yes, sir, three boxes.”

Jamal was the very person who had witnessed Black Mamba’s grenade sniping in Kaparja Valley. His master, who could pinpoint targets with a grenade from a long distance, was the world’s greatest weapon. He shared the box of grenades with Ahmad, and each carried a bag.

The Kurd tribe warriors shared the 81-millimeters Brandt mortars, gun plates, barrels, and bipods between themselves. All the other warriors slung one box of bullets around their shoulders. On top of the Panzer’s weight, each carried a weight of over 30 kilograms. It would be difficult to move quickly in the dark.

“I’ll carry them.”

Black mamba united the mortar’s barrel and plate, slung five boxes of bullets on his back, and placed the mortar on top of his shoulder. The 81-millimeters Brandt mortar had a barrel, gun plate, bipod, and sight weighing 42 kilograms in total. The L41A1 high-explosive bomb weighed five kilograms per shell. 20 shots were equivalent to 100 kilograms.

“Woah!” Ecjose and the Kurd tribe warriors shouted.

“I’m a little strong. Let’s go. We need to pop one and run before dawn breaks.”

Black Mamba and the Kurd tribe warriors disappeared into the darkness. Ecjose’s mouth hung open. How could a human run with a weight of 150 kilograms on their back? That wasn’t a human but a bear. He shouldn’t be a soccer player, but someone on the American Football Conference. A gray bear would charge ahead with a rugby ball. The five defensive backs would fly off at once, trying to block him. The advisor would sprint 50 yards alone and touchdown! Ecjose’s eyes became blurry. A man’s strength was truly admirable.

Ibrahim, who was the guide, ran like a tiger. He didn’t seem like someone in his 40s. Black Mamba and the Kurd tribe warriors followed behind.

Ibrahim stopped. They’d moved four kilometers toward Orababa. Black Mamba looked up at the sky. The crescent moon, which was transitioning into a half-moon, hung low in the western sky. It would soon be dawn.

“Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa, the Syrian tank battalion is in Kunera basin. The basin will come into view once we move 500 meters past the hills.”

“Ibrahim, I’m going to observe the enemy camp. I’ll be back.”

“I know this region very well, sir.” Ibrahim followed.

Black Mamba took out two night-vision goggles and threw them at Ibrahim and Jamal.

“Jamal, go into hiding and wait for me.”

Black Mamba pulled out an MP5SD3 from his backpack.

“Yes, sir.”

Jamal didn’t question him about his safety. He could not imagine anything that would harm his master.

Pa-pat—

Black Mamba shot two times while climbing the hill and disappeared in a flash.

Pat—

Pat—

The sound of a sandbag being hit was heard twice in a row. Black Mamba silently appeared again after getting rid of several hidden guards.

“H-how did you—”

Ibrahim looked at Black Mamba in bewilderment.

“The Syrian Army wouldn’t leave a zone overlooking the camp empty. I erased three hidden guards. There won’t be any guards within a 300 meters radius.”

“Ah, Mahdi!”

Ibrahim realized what Jamal had meant by Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa’s endless abilities.

A large camp appeared before them. Searchlights lined the outer camp like beads, and the perimeters were surrounded by barbed-wire fences. Tanks and trucks were organized accordingly. Watchtowers lined the outskirts. The searchlights moved side to side as it skimmed the area.

“Great. There are over 20 tanks in sight, sir.”

Ibrahim handed the night-vision goggles to Black Mamba. Black Mamba waved his hand.

“I’m looking at it too. That vehicle located outside with a coaxial machine gun attached to the flat turret is a BMP-1, not a tank. Can you see it?”

“What? Yes, sir. I see six of them.” Ibrahim flinched. He’d forgotten that Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa was the Mahdi.

“That captive b*stard must have been confused. I think there are at least 50 considering their positions. How many people do you think are there?”

“The number of barracks have exceeded our expectations, sir.”

“They’re a joint echelon of tanks and infantry. The infantry is also made up of large-scale battalions.”

Black Mamba estimated the number of people by the size and number of the barracks. Syria had lost 100s of tanks in the Yom Kippur War because of Israeli infantry’s anti-tank weapons. Syria had only formed a joint tank and infantry battalion after the defeat.

“Let’s go. It’s time to create some fireworks.”

“Hehe, I’ll show the b*stards what hot fire truly is.” Ibrahim quivered in excitement.

Both the Turkish people and Syrians were the same. He had lost all of his siblings while fighting against Turkey with faulty weapons. He had also lost his son in Syria. It was time for revenge.