Novel Name : Mercenary Black Mamba

Mercenary Black Mamba - Chapter 242

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“Tsk, that sly fox!” Black Mamba clicked his tongue.

That guy was very careful. To kill the pilot, Black Mamba had attempted to target the cockpit and take out the tail rotor, but he wasn’t given much chance. The only option left for Black Mamba was to knock against the main rotor, which had a good defense.

He still felt deep regret for leaving the MANPADS behind before blowing up the ammunition storage room. He deemed that there was no point in turning the prayer beads for a dead child anymore. Did the Hind think he’d just sit around?

Bang Bang Bang—

Black Mamba relentlessly pulled on the trigger after finding the zero-point. The target was the connecting joint between the blades and the hub.

Despite the muzzle brake, the Barrett’s recoil was murderous. His muscles, which were like wires and ropes, suppressed its recoil and withstood its firings.




Sparks continuously escaped from the blades’ joint.

Hassan and Black Mamba exchanged punches in a 900 meters long-distance battle. The four-turn Gatling gun, which was attached to the lower part of the Hind, turned. 200 50-caliber bullets crossed the air in a single breath.

Crack crack crack—

Countless fireworks appeared across the cliff. Hassan wasn’t an easy opponent. He shot close-range bullets despite the restricted view.

It’s slowly breaking down. Let’s see how long it will last.

With his inner eye, he could see the degree of the blade’s rotation changing little by little. This meant that the blade was severely damaged.

Bang bang bang—

Continuous blows were directed to the joint. The bolt, which was attached to the hub, shattered.


A blade slipped away and disappeared into a dot.

“Ugh!” Hassan’s face creased.

Putter putter—

The rotor’s sound had changed. The fuselage’s movements weren’t as smooth. This meant that the main rotor was missing a blade.

“What the hell is that b*stard?” Hassan, who was stunned, shouted unknowingly.

Chills ran down his spine. The Hind’s main rotor blade was strong enough to withstand a large caliber field artillery. Even with a hole, flying wasn’t a problem, and it could bounce off bullets at certain angles. This meant that the shots were aimed at its weakest parts. The b*stard had aimed accurately despite the pouring rain. That kind of sniping was impossible for a human being.

“Hehe, it didn’t earn the nickname of air tank for nothing. You dirty Sunni traitor b*stard, I’ll see this to the end.”

Hassan clenched his teeth. Anger had overwhelmed his fear. He had to avenge Altun’s death by killing that devil of a b*stard. It was a combination of the strongest helicopter, Hind, and the best pilot, Hassan. The nickname, air tank, wouldn’t live up to its fame if he lost control over a missing blade.

He couldn’t flee in fear of a single fundamentalist b*stard. Disregarding his pride, he didn’t have the nerve to greet his father in heaven. The b*stard was a poisonous rat anyway. He couldn’t escape, and it was only a matter of time until he became roasted since his location was revealed.

The Hind blasted heavy punches in retaliation to the series of jabs.




30 millimeters explosives landed on the cliff in a row.

“What an amazing guy!” Black Mamba exclaimed.

The helicopter was worthy of its nickname, air tank.


Hassan’s fist landed on the console. He couldn’t strike properly due to the lack of stability. Bit by bit, the landing points became misaligned. He wanted to decrease the distance and land a critical hit but didn’t dare make a run at the ghost-like b*stard.

Hassan believed in the Hind’s strength. The Hind had withstood a direct hit from an RPG in Afghanistan. Nothing could happen with a few more bullet hits.

Black Mamba believed in his physical strength. If the opponent struck, he could wrap the Gorgon around the overhang and jump down. Both sides have placed their faith in different things, turning the battle into a dogfight. Landing a strike in the cave would be Hassan’s victory. If he managed to remove another rotor, it would be Black Mamba’s victory. It had turned into a battle of who could hold out the longest.

“Jamal, magazine!”

“Yes, sir!”

The Barrett shot endless rounds.

Bang bang bang—

Bang bang bang—

It was a continuous three-point sniping. None of Black Mamba’s shots were wasted. He battered on the blades’ joint without rest.

Hassan responded with the Gatling gun.


Lines of black-red flares were lit across the dark void.

Bang bang bang bang—

The 50-caliber bullets penetrated the cave’s entrance. Pieces of rocks scattered and struck his body. He could hear the bats fluttering inside the cave.


Cold sweat trickled down. Black Mamba would have died if it was a missile launcher instead of a machine gun. The risk doubled after the impact force was created.

“Jamal, magazine!”


It was the third magazine replacement.

“Jamal, hide yourself!” Those were Black Mamba’s parting words before he hurled his body into the air.

“Ah, master!”

When Jamal cried out of fear, he’d long disappeared.


He pulled out his Gorgon.


The five-pointed spear at the tip of his whip swung once in the air and embedded itself deep into the cliff.

Black Mamba, who hung on the cliff like a spider, raised the Barrett with one hand and fired away.




His strong muscles withstood the Barrett’s recoil and weight.

Lights flashed from the lower part of the Hind.


Like a pendulum, Black Mamba pushed against the cliff’s surface and moved to the other side.


The cliff released debris after suffering a direct hit from the machine gun.


Black Mamba spat out the pieces of stone and dust that had entered his mouth.

“Wh…what the hell is that?”

Hassan pried his eyes open. The enemy’s muzzle flare bounced around the cliff. He didn’t understand what was happening. When he was prepared to fire in the flare’s direction, another attack came from 10 meters away. Hassan floundered, unable to make a run at the phenomenon that he couldn’t understand.

Black Mamba used the Gorgon to reposition frequently. By using the pendulum force, he could avoid the machine gun and explosions while firing a counterattack. It was unfortunate that there wasn’t an audience to witness the great sight.


Another blade slipped away from the hub with the last bullet. The accumulated damage had eventually led to a catastrophe. The Hind’s body swayed with its nose raised.


Surprised, Hassan pulled on the pitch lever as hard as he could. It was a useless fight. Not even an air tank could survive after losing two of its blades. Its altitude decreased rapidly after its tail separated. The cockpit fell entirely into his sight.

Hehe, it hits you in the face when your guard is down, that’s the rule.


Bang bang bang—

Black Mamba shot with ease after replacing the magazine.


Three bullets penetrated the cockpit shield at once. Two bullets shattered the console while the other bullet crushed Hassan’s shoulder. Blood was spilled everywhere.


A scream resounded from within the cockpit, but no one was there to hear it. Hassan gathered his hazy mind. A friend, who had fought with him for three years, lost its wings. There was no chance of survival.

“Masha’Allah[1]! You won. I will go to heaven since I’ve battled and put my life on the line. Hoorah Assad! Hooray Ba’ath!”

He had shouted out of habit. The face that came to mind wasn’t Hafez al-Assad with the long nostrils. Instead, it was his wife awaiting his return at the house in Aleppo with Arabian shawarma. Unknowingly, his cheeks felt wet.


Another bullet pierced through the cockpit shield. He could see vibrations from the bullet and the air surrounding it.


A slower bullet brought about greater damage. Hassan’s right chest was blown wide open.

Is that b*stard a god or a devil?

It was a passing question right before his death. The Hind lost its force and crashed in a spiral.


The explosion shook the entire valley. Smoke from the dark red flames rose. The valley’s water, which had increased with the rain, engulfed the helicopter’s remains. The burning jet fuel heated the water’s surface.

Awar Hassan, who was the Syrian Third Airborne regiment’s top pilot, returned to Allah’s side. He’d tried his best until the end but found the wrong house number instead. Hassan’s opponent wasn’t the despicable Islamic fundamentalists but Dong-bang-bull-pae, Black Mamba. It was Hassan’s misfortune.


Black Mamba released a long sigh before lowering the Barrett. He wiped off the beads of sweat on his forehead. The battle was a test of patience and time. If the Hind’s power was slightly stronger, he could be in a difficult situation.

His arrogance had gotten the best of him, which caused him to lose focus. Advanced modern weapons were not to be taken lightly. With enough equipments procured, destruction and murder were simple matters. The only problem was invasion and retreat, which he considered an easy task for an eraser. But the sudden appearance of a modern weapon like the Hind was a threat to his mission.

Compared to the Hind, the T-34 tank in Dombrey Forest was nothing. There wasn’t a way to avoid air attacks unless he had his teacher’s psychokinesis ability. The Hind attack models gave him a new problem to solve.

The dark clouds had dispersed during his battle against the two Hinds.

Tap tap—

The rain was coming to a stop. The valley wind cleared away the thick fog.

“Mon dieu, c’est une incroyable.”[2]

Jamal gazed blankly at the bottom of the valley where the dark red flames were dying out. A power beyond a human’s imagination became the subject of awe.

His heart trembled at the thought of his master’s power. The attachment and loyalty he had for his country were long gone. His country’s precious helicopters were destroyed, but only images of his parents filled his mind.

Black Mamba bent down and jumped into the cave. His face was covered in blood, sweat, soot, and dust. His eyes flashed dangerously at the beggar’s face. Jamal kneeled unknowingly.

“May Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa be praised. I praise the victory of your greatness.”

“Stop saying nonsense. I nearly died.”

“No human can go against someone sent by Allah. Please bring my parents into the world you’re creating, Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa.”

“Of course. The family members of my family are naturally my family too. Syria would likely turn chaotic. There’s a village called Gobelaka in the southern hills of Maydanki Lake. Ask deacon Bakri Jadir for shelter.”

“Is he a Syrian Orthodox?”

“Yes. You’re not obsessed with the dogma of a righteous religion, are you?”

“Of course not, sir. While I was a terrorist, I realized that self-righteousness is scarier than a gun. The same goes for the fight between Assad and the Muslim Brotherhood.”

“Good. There are differences, but that’s not wrong. Everything becomes clear when you try to understand the other’s perspective.”

“Different but not wrong,” Jamal mumbled.

The people he had referred to as heathens up until now must have regarded him as a heathen instead. Were they sinners because they had a different religion and a different interpretation of social status? Were the orders of the ruling class all Allah’s teachings?

The time he’d spent in his self-righteousness and egotism was a waste. Suddenly, he felt the weight of his sins on his shoulders. Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa wasn’t Muslim. However, he became a trusted existence. He’d wasted his life being fixated on an illusion.

“Jamal, can you get down from the cliff by yourself?”

“Hehe, I’m not you, master.”

Jamal broke away from his train of thought and laughed in embarrassment.

“Hm, there is no hiding place quite like this one. Tsk!” Black Mamba smacked his lips.

“Please bring me to the ground, sir. I know the terrain around here very well. My abilities will only interfere with yours. I’ll find a retreat.”

Black Mamba liked Jamal. He was sharp-witted and knew how to gauge the situation. He was just like a butler. He was the right person to manage Edel’s farm. Black Mamba carried Jamal out of the cave, on his back.


The Gorgon swung in the air alongside a brief cry.


The five-pointed spear at the tip of his whip dug into the opposite cliff. He pushed against the cliff using the Gorgon as a rope. When his position stabilized, he moved the Gorgon and pushed again. Jamal was 10 times more terrified than when he was being carried up the cliff. He didn’t even think about the human arm that was lugging 200 kilograms of weight. He felt like he’d throw up from simply looking at the cliffs.

“Jamal, remember Bakri Jadir of Gobelaka Village,” Black Mamba repeated before he activated his becoming one with nature.


His body blended with the air. Jamal’s eyes focused. His master’s body had turned blurry and disappeared right before his eyes.

“Oh, Allah!”

Jamal went speechless.

There were two drawbacks to becoming one with nature. Firstly, the skill couldn’t last beyond 30 minutes. The brain couldn’t withstand the lack of concern from a master in the mountain and the highest level of nothingness. Secondly, it delayed fast movements. The idea of moving itself disrupted the process.

Five minutes later, Black Mamba released his becoming one with nature. The valley was unexpectedly empty inside. There was no reason to maintain his becoming one with nature if there wasn’t much security. He could avoid them by simply assessing the surroundings with his senses. A black shadow burrowed into the valley like a meteor.

Kaparja Valley was shaped like a horizontal gourd. It had a length of 15 kilometers with the narrowest width at barely 200 meters and the widest width at 1,000 meters.

The valley’s width widened with every step he took. The ANO was located at the narrowest end while the missile base was stationed at the widest end. The ANO was basically the gatekeepers. Assad had used his brain.

His first target was the restricted cave. He’d been certain that it was the biological and chemical weapons storage facility after hearing Jamal’s explanation. According to the DGSE’s information, Syria possessed a large number of biological and chemical weapons. According to the first world’s largest intelligence agency, the location of the biological and chemical weapons was in Qudsaya, near Damascus. They weren’t aware of any other storage facilities. There was a high possibility of it being the second facility.

Black Mamba rushed through the harsh mountain using his fearless steps. Deeper into the trail, the terrain got rougher. There was a mountain of rocks made up of small and large rocks that were as sharp as blades. He was surprised by the sudden appearance of a marshland after jumping over the rocks. A bike would have a difficult time getting through the terrain. Allah’s hands had reached this rough terrain too. He could see remains from the past and abandoned buildings around the valley.

[1] What God has willed.

[2] “My God, this is incredible.”
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