Chapter 97: Chapter 13, Episode 4: Far Far Away Lake Shari
Without finishing the end of his sentence, the light in Burimerâs eyes went out.
Maybe because he had died in his comradeâs arms, Burimer closed his eyes comfortably. Bell Man lifted his eyelids and checked his pupils, then shook his head.
âHeâs dead. Our sergeant is dead. Wahhh!â
Jang Shin hugged Burimer and cried. Even the captain looked broken up.
A single tear fell from Black Mambaâs eye. The hot tear rolled onto Burimerâs pale cheek.
Even with his last breath, he was a man who worried about his family and comrades, which made their hearts ache.
âMu Ssang, your mother, mother, take care of your mother.â His father too had asked him to take care of his frail wife with his last breath. The image matched Burimerâs death.
âFarewell. You were a great comrade and friend.â
This was an absurd end for Sergeant Burimer, who had two daughters and was a fan of fishing. His legendary fishing stories had now come to an end. They would no longer be able to hear of his special skill, shooting a needle into an impossibly small space, anymore.
Yes. Whatever words one used to describe it, life was short. The thought that there was life after death was ridiculous.
The captainâs eyes trembled as he watched Burimerâs corpse being laid down. Burimer wasnât just any soldier; he was his right-hand man and the one who had led the team, having been the oldest among them.
Burimer had two daughters, five-year-old Silvie and seven-year-old Leah, who were at their most adorable ages. His daughters had lost a father, and his wife had lost a husband.
And he had lost his friend and a competent comrade. Even if death was normal for a mercenary, he was still a father, a husband, and a friend. He wasnât the type of person who deserved to die this way.
Burimerâs death was the same as if the captain had killed him himself. Compared to men like Black Mamba and Ocelot, humans seemed so weak. Who could have imagined that a light kick from an insane assassin could take out the light of life from someone?!
Burimerâs death was directly related to the captainâs missed judgement call. It was the result of his stubbornness to regain communication even when Black Mamba had hit him to make him come to his senses. He had surpassed sadness and was now furious. There was nowhere to release his emotions. He felt that his skills as a captain were pitiful.
An emotion he couldnât exactly describe filled his chest and hit him squarely in the heart. On his previously dry cheeks, a trail of tears rolled down. The composure he had tried so hard to keep was swiftly collapsing.
Black Mambaâs face turned quickly around.
The captain was crying while banging his head against the wall.
âCaptain, donât show us this pathetic side of you. If the leader is shaken, the team is shaken as well.â
âBlack Mamba, itâs all my fault. Because of my stubbornness, Chartres died, then Morris, Miguel, and now, Burimer. I donât deserve to be a leader.â
âIâm giving up my position to you.â
Black Mamba suddenly became extremely annoyed.
The worth of a leader was recognized in times of hardship. Humans tended to give up in defeat when they were placed in a difficult situation. He could understand their feeling of remorse and pressure, but it was nothing short of pathetic.
âCaptain, stop saying gibberish. Iâm a private. If a group of mercenaries is led by a private, even donkeys will laugh at us.â
âBefore youâre a private, youâre a call name agent. You are a high-ranking special force agent.â
Black Mamba didnât answer and instead went to the window.
With a creaking sound, a metal pipe holding up the curtain was pulled off with ease.
Black Mamba folded the 13-foot-long metal rod in half then folded it in half again afterwards. The metal rod broke into four clean pieces.
âItâs still too long.â
He folded the metal rod in half, then folded it again. He bent an inch-thick metal pipe as if he was folding paper.
Mikeâs face was ashen as he was reminded of an unsavory memory. The captainâs face also looked less than comfortable. He frowned vigorously at the piece of pipe he held in his hand.
âItâs uncomfortable because there are so many.â
He removed one of the metal pieces and threw it at the wall.
The captain jumped at the raucous sound, the image of Mike filling his head. Just thinking about becoming a captain who was beaten by a lower ranking official gave him the chills.
âThree is still too many.â
âTwo is still uncomfortable. I donât think Iâll get the full effect from them.â
The last remaining two-foot-long curtain rod spun in his hand and made a menacing sound as it whooshed through the air.
âStop, Iâm sorry.â The captain dropped his head.
Black Mamba took turns glaring at his comrades.
âAre you going to follow the commands of someone with one year of experience or one with 20 years of experience?
The three mercenaries played along and teased together.
âOf course you should follow a more experienced leaderâs commands.â
âOf course, the soldiers must fight according to rank.â
âThe lieutenant must take care of the little things.â
âHaha! I donât like Psychology, the mind. Orthopedics, hands and feet, is much more my style.â
Black Mamba threw the curtain rod he was holding at the wall.
Thud! The pipe traveled deep into the concrete and the end vibrated with the movement. The mercenaries who were watching shuddered along with it.
âBlack Mamba, Iâm sorry. I wasnât thinking about how to approach the situation and was only worried about shifting away the responsibility. I was short-sighted.â
The captain was sincerely sorry. He had made the wrong decisions, and Black Mamba had been the one to fix them all. How many times had he been indebted to him for saving his life? Debt, whatever form it took, always made the receiver feel burdened and handicapped, and debt from saving a life was even more serious.
âIf you know, then thatâs enough. I brought this upon you as well.â
Black Mamba blamed himself, too. After he had cleaned up the enemy forces, he had let down his guard. He had thought he had cleared the danger and grown too cocky. And so, he again lost a comrade, but regretting it now wouldnât change the past.
âCaptain, do you live to be happy?â
âDonât all people want to be happy?â
âNo, to live on, you need happiness. Happiness is a necessary tool with which to survive.â
âOh, another complicated philosophy?â complained Emil.
Black Mamba turned toward Emil. âEmil, you look for women every weekend. If sex was painful, would you still want to be on top of women?â
âThatâs exactly it. Excitement and happiness exist to aid in survival and reproduction. We donât live to feel happiness; you feel happiness to live. If you feel sad, do you die? No. Happiness and sadness are like ice cream. As time passes, they both melt and disappear. You may be sad and miserable, but we must live and move on. Okay, letâs move on. The blue bird isnât something meant to find but something that finds you.â
âWow, Black Mamba, youâre so good at talking.â
âAlluh, shop shop!â Mike and Bell Man cheered.
The captain was in awe. âHeâs a philosophical beast with loyalty to boot. Heâs so cool. Heâs the one who should be a leader, but he was embarrassed to call himself a captain. I have to do what I have to do.â
âJang Shin, collect the weapons from the dead. Mike, take records of their faces. Bell Man, treat Black Mambaâs wounds properly. Emil, take care of Burimer.â
The captain spat out command after command. He had faltered for a moment, but being a leader wasnât something anyone could do.
âBurimer died in a way that suited him. Letâs make sure to take care of his family for him,â Black Mamba mumbled to himself. In war, the most significant death was one given to save a comrade. His family would be extremely sad, but the mercenaries made peace with it. If they were going to die anyways, it was better to die a worthy death.
The faces of the soldiers looking down at Burimerâs face were dark. Killed by the kick of an assassin. If he had died in the field during a battle, they wouldnât have felt as miserable.
Six corpses lay side by side on the floor of room 318, two Arabs and four Whites. There wasnât a single identification card in any of their belongings to figure out who they were. Only their corpses and Berettas were left.
âCaptain, do you have any suspects you have in mind regarding who sent the assassin?â
âAt the very least, I know it canât be the poor Frolinat punks.â The captainâs mouth felt bitter as he answered Emilâs question.
They seemed to be falling deeper and deeper into a trap. DGSE might have thought of their team as a threat and had a high possibility of not being happy with their return. He kept imagining the worst.
âCaptain, what do you think that monster was?â Jang Shin shivered.
âHow could I know? He introduced himself as Ocelot. Of course, that has to be a nickname. He said he received a request from a client.â
The mercenaries all made the same sound at the same time. They hadnât heard the details of Black Mambaâs conversation with Ocelot.
âHm!â The captainâs expression grew darker.
Were they important enough to have a skilled assassin like that come after them?
âWas he, perhaps, after Black Mamba?â
If that was the case, then it was definitely from the DGSE headquarters. They were the only ones who knew enough about Black Mambaâs skills. If they were to return, they would be the ones in an uncomfortable situation. If they had taken account of Black Mambaâs skill and sent Ocelot, then this would all make sense.
âCaptain! Look at this,â Black Mamba interrupted the captainâs thoughts.
Five Macarov guns were dropped onto the sofa.
âWhat is this now?â The captainâs eyes grew wide.
There was no way he hadnât heard of Macarov. He was just asking how Black Mamba had come upon them.
âI followed the guy we were interrogating in the lobby and took out five of them.â
âHuh!â The captain and his comrades all gasped reflexively.
Was he saying that the assassins came in while everyone was asleep, and he had taken care of them?! This was unbelievable.
Black Mamba pulled out the documents he had collected. âI donât know. Two Black people, one North Korean, and two Whites. I found this at the enemyâs hiding place.â
âOh!â The captain spat out a gasp.
âEvery dog and cow are after us,â muttered Mike.
âIs this a random number table? It probably belongs to the KGB or Libyaâs army.â
It wasnât even surprising. Chadâs sponsor was Brezhnev, secretary to Gaddafi.
âBell Man, take good care of them. When we return, those may end up being the most expensive things we own.â
If evidence was revealed that the Soviets were part of the Chad resistance, the DGSE would cheer.
âEveryone, listen up well. You will all erase the memory of Black Mamba and Ocelotâs fight. Understand?â
âOur return to safety is in Black Mambaâs hands. As you can all see, Black Mamba is special. I do not wish for our friend and guardian angel to end up like a monkey in a zoo.â
âDonât worry, heâs one who always wanted a normal life. We arenât stupid enough to put someone whoâs shared blood with us in a difficult situation,â Emil responded.
âOf course. Black Mamba is our friend before heâs our comrade,â Mike commented after hearing Emilâs words. Everyone nodded their heads.
âThe previous communication was wrong. Before they come for us, letâs get out of here.â
When Emil had finished wrapping Burimerâs body in a sheet and was ready to start moving out, Ombuti came in.
âTraitor!â Mike pulled out his Glock.
After Ombuti had disappeared, the assassins started trailing them. Ombuti was the most likely suspect.
âForget it. Ombuti is a comrade,â Black Mamba yelled out.
âAlright.â At Black Mambaâs word, Mike put his suspicions to rest.
If Black Mamba said he wasnât, then he wasnât. He was the leader of the mercenariesâ thoughts. Also, there was no reason for Ombuti, who worshiped Black Mamba, to betray them.
Ombuti was able to register the situation immediately. âI am not a traitor.â
âThatâs right. Ombuti is our friend.â
At Black Mambaâs words, Ombutiâs eyes filled with tears. He felt rewarded for having run around trying to avoid being detected by Frolinat.
âWakil, were you hurt?â
Jang Shin and Emil had put on clothes they found around the hotel, but Black Mamba looked like a mess.
âDonât worry about it. Letâs talk later.â
Ombuti closed his mouth. If his master said so, then thatâs what he had to do.
Jang Shin whispered to Ombuti, âHeâs not in a good mood. Burimer died.â
âSergeant died? Really?â Ombuti jumped in surprise.
Read Latest Chapters at wuxiaworld.eu
âThatâs not all. Another person like Black Mamba appeared.â
âA person with Wakilâs skills? Donât tease me.â Ombuti couldnât believe a word of it.
âGo out to the garden. It will be a sight to see. The guy who Black Mamba attacked got away.â
âHe escaped Wakilâs hands?â