Mercenary Black Mamba

Chapter 692: Chapter 63 Episode 28 Asura

Helen pulled out the pistol in a rush. She barely survived the Yankees’ shelling attack, but she was in a situation in which she became the bird’s prey.

“No!”

Il-ho and Sam Ho blew up at the same time. The Terror Bird was so bullet-resistant that a grizzly was nothing to it. It didn’t even blink like Beretta. Boom! Sam Ho pushed the Terror Bird out with a head-butt, and Il-ho grabbed Helen’s waist and rolled over.

Flap! The Terror Bird spread its wings and leaped. Il-ho’s eyes, which had not yet taken a position, darkened. Whether it was stabbed by an ax’s beak or kicked, it would end up with a one-shot. Sam Ho stretched out his hand.

“Manubia!”

Crunching! Deep blue electric light hit the head directly. Kick! The Terror Bird, which was hit by lightning, faltered. Pat, pat, pat! Sam Ho, who took the opportunity, made a series of silly remarks. Kieek! An ear-splitting high-frequency sound went off.

The Terror Bird, which tasted heat, fled away toward the grasses, swinging its wings. Il-ho shook his head. The monster bird would suffer a lot, but after a few days, it would appear normal. He was sick of it. Animals and plants were terrible bastards.

“Damn it! Spit-spit”

Helen spat out the dirt that entered her mouth.

“Hush!”

Il-ho blocked Helen’s mouth with his palm. The sound of grass brushing, the sound of small branches breaking, the sound of hitting the bushes with a machete; the jungle became noisy. The Amoeba Helmet suddenly appeared.

“Boje Moi!”

Helen’s face brightened.

“Rocovazizel!(Team Leader!)”

Il-ho bowed his head. Milovic looked at Il-ho with complex eyes. Worry, anger, fear, resentment; these were eyes with all kinds of sonic emotions.

“The comrades did their best, Sir.”

“Fucking Sniper!”

Milovic’s face became gloomy. This was what he expected when ATACMS flew toward the heap. Misery would never come alone. He had lost 20 precious subordinates in an instant because of a mess. What would they do? The fate of a spy...

“Number 10, isn’t there any problem?”

Milovic’s question was simple.

“No, there is not,” Helen answered simply, too.

It was fortunate that Number 10 and Oparts were safe.

“Vhajizye!(Come out!)”

Milovic raised his hand. The heads of a group of people, who covered their faces with yellow turbans, appeared one after another. It was Maimai Mbembe who encountered Milovic.

“Akbar Ntaganta!”

A black man in an orange Soviet military uniform raised his palm outside. The black man’s gorilla-like ugly face looked a little squishy in his eyes.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Il-ho.”

Il-ho, familiar with Bantu language, was greeted.

“I’m First Lieutenant Untaga. I had difficulty finding you.”

“Difficulty? I lost comrades because of your procrastination.”

Il-ho looked at the black man with sergeant insignia. He had lost time and his colleagues waiting for the morons who were not even properly equipped with military uniforms. What help such guys as this would do!

“Cheeky...”

Untaga waved the cane he was holding. Whoosh! A black line stretched out towards Il-ho. Poof! Il-ho disappeared. The black line that lost its target turned round and entered Untaga’s arms. Sususu! Il-ho revealed his body.

“Comrades. I’ve lost 40 subordinates as well. You didn’t tell us the exact location. We searched hard.”

Untaga shook his hands. It was a gesture that meant “let’s not fight”.

“The winged Black Mamba? It is amazing! We couldn’t help it because of the wiretapping.”

Number 1 killed the spirit. He was like a beggar, but he was tough. The frustrating side was Ubiksa. In a situation where they needed to borrow even a cat’s hand, even if they had caused pointless trouble, it was their loss.

“I understand!”

Untaga relaxed his expression and backed away.

Helen intervened. “Comrade, who is it?”

Milovic shook his head without answering. Helen’s question pulled the terrible man to the surface. If Maimai soldiers hadn’t shown up, it was likely that he and Sevchenko would have been killed. Fear was ahead of revenge.

“Untaga, are they all current personnel?”

Il-ho looked around the rabble who were carrying AK rifles and RPGs in their clothes recklessly. What could one do with just one platoon’s military power?

“Don’t underestimate because the number is small. We are Mbembe Special Squadron. 3,000 Maimai warriors were disturbing the eyes of the Yankees. Firstly, we will return to our garrison.”

“Whew!”

Milovic sighed deeply. The sniper, who appeared like a ghost, struck a chess board, and the only survivors of the team were Sevchenko, Il-ho, and Sam Ho. Without the help of Maimai, let alone an organic battle, they would bury their bones in the jungle. Joining Mbembe, Ubiksa traveled 13km to the northeast of Ekwe.

“Mbala Kadambu Abudal Delatoun Ssadagu!”

Because Untaga was far, he waved the mennang in front of the towering cliff and memorized the spell. Shattering! The cliff collapsed as if a large glass window was shattered. On the spot, Mahogany and Limbali appeared, towering as if piercing the sky. Under the canopy that covered the sky, field army tents were scattered here and there.

“It’s an amazing illusion!”

The eyes of Milovic and Ubiksa teammates fully grew. Ubiksa had a hard time in the underground beat. It was not a group that would look down on them as beggars.

“Akbar Ntaganta!”

Untaga saluted in front of the mahogany giant tree. Sususu! The bark turned into a soft man. It was an old black man, well dressed in military uniform, but with a grotesque cane in his hand, not a gun.

“Lieutenant Colonel Jurge. You guys might be dissatisfied, but you have to follow Houngan’s instructions.”

Il-ho helped Milovic, who was not good at Bantu, with conversation.

“It is Lieutenant Colonel Milovic. I’ll take care of you.”

“I don’t know what your mission is and I don’t want to know. The order I received is to protect you beyond the Ugandan border to Luwenzori.”

“The net the Yankees have spread is not easy.”

“The Yankees can evade. There is another thing that needed to be careful about.”

Jurge rolled his eyes.

“Did you say there is another being more troublesome than the Yankees?”

Milovic’s eyes widened.

“The CIA-backed Lord’s Resistance Army (A Central African rebel organization based in the Achola region of Uganda) increased in great numbers. There are many shamans and the weapons are faithful. We’re rather uncomfortable about them. One platoon of Mbembe was killed by them. General Ntaganta started a scuffle with those guys.”

Jurge ground his teeth. The subordinates whose magic had been broken became food for microbes. The ringleader was Black Mamba, but as for Jurge, he had no choice but to doubt the shaman of the Lord’s Resistance Army. This meant that Black Mamba caused an unintentional flat wind wave. Natural disasters were not just natural disasters.

“Maimai has no rival. They will not escape the punishment of God.”

Milovic did lip service.

“Thank you, but we’re not invincible. A more terrifying being than Lord’s Resistance Army was Mahaduraka. Mahaduraka, who disappeared, has reentered. Tonight, we will set off after performing a ceremony to soothe Mahaduraka.”

“What is Mahaduraka?”

“Mahaduraka is the king of Bodoon, who eats the Iwa that moves the world. When Mahaduraka is furious, Rewa disappears and the world comes to an end.”

Jurge’s expression was serious.

“What does this mean?”

Milovic looked back at his subordinates. Sevchenko and Il-ho shrugged. There was no way that they knew the worldview of Voodoo.

“Fucking Africa!”

Milovic was in trouble. What kind of a mongrel was the Lord Resistance(Lord’s Resistance Army) and also what was Mahaduraka? Strange people were easily appearing, and it was difficult to distinguish who was an ally and who was an enemy.

“I don’t know what Mahaduraka is, but a scary sniper is tracking. He’s the one to watch out for.”

“You suffered because you did not know the Ituri jungle. Such a sniper is nothing.”

Jurge rejected it. He could have never even imagined such a sniper would approach in front of Mahaduraka’s nose.

“Stupid bastard!” Milovic said in his mind.

Milovic closed his mouth. Only his mouth would hurt even if he was redundant to an old man with a needlessly strong pride.

“Lieutenant Colonel Jurge, let’s discuss the exit route first.”

“Oh my god, we didn’t recommend at least a cup of tea to our guests.”

Lieutenant Colonel Jurge led the group to the spacious tent.

“Ouch!”

Milovic suddenly took a step back. A terrible stench hit his nose. The source of the odor was a large boiling pot. Five men surrounded the pot and were eating something diligently. A guy in the Mickey Mouse T-shirt., a guy in a sleeveless Chinese national suit, a guy whose upper body was naked, and a guy in the Russian soldier uniform; everything was diverse. When Jurge entered, the rabble rose up all of sudden.

“Huh!”

Milovic breathed in the breeze. As the men moved out of the way, the hand of the man who had escaped before the pot seemed to be frozen. Helen rushed out of the barracks.

“Go out and eat!”

Untaga whipped his hands. The men held the pot easily as if it was not hot and rushed out. Milovic wanted to cry. He felt pity for having to hold hands with a cannibal that boiled and ate humans.

Untaga brought the tea, but Milovic and his party only stared at the wooden glass filled with the reddish liquid. No one could dare to drink tea. Lieutenant Colonel Jurge smiled and spread the map on the ground.

“At night, the direct command arrives. The army is divided into three divisions. The first group will lure the Yankees to the east. He will cross the mountain plateaus of Lolwa and Komanda and exit to Bunia. There is an airfield in Bunia. The more likely the Yankees will be lured, the more likely the men will die.”

Jurge drew a line along the northwest main road from Mambasa to Kisangani.

“The second group will head to Kisangani. The second group doesn’t have much of a chance to survive. You will go south along the Ituri tributary with me. We will enter Caseze after passing through Biakutu and Mavivi and bypassing Margherita peak. The distance to be covered is about 340 km.”

Jurge was blunt from beginning to end. Despite the price, Maimai had made great sacrifices. The casualties of general soldiers had exceeded a thousand units and 50 Mbembes had been lost. General soldiers could be easily recruited, but it would take at least 5 years to train Mbembe, who was a direct subordinate. It was difficult to predict the life or death of the 60 Mbembes included in the manned group. For this and that, there was no choice but to be in a bad temper.

“If you cross Margherita Peak, you can cut 80km.”

Sevchenko expressed his disagreement.

“Huh! Say something that makes sense. Margherita is 5,000 above sea level. Although it is similar in height to the sea level to Kilimanjaro, sulfur and nitrogen are high and oxygen is lean. You die before even reaching the top.”

Lieutenant Colonel Jurge chuckled.

“Don’t underestimate Ubiksa.”

Sevchenko glared in his eyes.

“I am not underestimating. Whether you climb Margherita or not, it’s your responsibility to take care of it. My advice is that returning to Bwera, northwest of Lake Edward, would be good. And your outfit is too obvious.”

Untaga came with an armful of beautiful smelly military uniforms. Milovic nodded. He was trying to ask even if he didn’t.

The party, including the shaman, departed one after another from Maimai’s temporary garrison. The first group departed east and around midnight, the second group departed west for Tabora. At dawn, the third group and Milovic’s party, led by Lieutenant Colonel Jurge, set off.

“Oh my, there’s no easy way to go.”

Black Mamba, lying comfortably on the 70m high branch of the 2nd Abyssinia, stood up all of sudden. He didn’t know they would come out in three directions. The purpose was a rotten rose. An oyster shell without oysters was useless.

He didn’t know if it was Ubiksa or a shaman, but he couldn’t hear even a word from the conversation because the sound waves were scattered. Even if he pricked up his ears, he could only hear a loud sound. It was easy to see why the Yankees couldn’t catch them even though they had their aerophones scattered all over the place. It would be easy to kill them all, but he was not a psychopath who was crazy about slaughtering.

“Ah, I don’t know! They must be on the team with the most people.”

Black Mamba pretended to be deceived and pursued the last departing Maimai unit.

“Bingo!”

An hour later, Black Mamba uttered yells of delight. While the guerrillas were sitting on the damp ground and eating ugali with their dirty hands, there was a man standing and eating, wiping his hands with dew on the leaves of the grass. Number 10 was clear.

In modern civilization, wet women instinctively would not sit on wet ground. They would not pick up and eat food with dirty hands either. It was the law of a man who could do anything.

When Black Mamba was contemplating an attack point, a 40-meter-wide river blocked the front. The Maimai crew pulled two ships out of the mangrove forest to Moko. If three or four people were on it, it was a terrible log boat that river was brimming its sides, but it was a hundred times better than nothing.

Black Mamba moved to the upper region. A long night would lead to many dreams. He had checked the rotten roses, so there was no reason to delay. Sun Woo-hyun frowned. The river, stagnant in flow, was as dark in color as coffee.

Olonge took a handful of fallen leaves from the river and said, “Did you say there is no problem? And the color of the leaves that are piled up on the riverbed is leaking out and it looks black? Still, I don’t like it.”

Sun Woo-hyun shook his head.

“No time.”

Black Mamba easily picked up a beautiful dead tree, pushed it into the river, grabbed Sun Woo-hyun and Olonge willy-nilly, and smashed the ground.

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