Mercenary Black Mamba - Chapter 283
“Sir, Black Mamba doesn’t even leave his hotel room. He stays in there like a dragon sleeping inside a cave and spends time alone training or meditating. Like a monk from the East or some religious leader, he isn’t interested in alcohol, women, gambling, food, or games. The best way to treat him is to leave him alone without causing any interference.”
Mitterrand laughed at Bonipas’ reply.
“What kind of young man lives like that? I heard he has a big appetite. He’s a strong man, but he should feel tired and restless. I’d like to dine with him, but it’s difficult because of his nature as a call name. I’ll send over the presidential palace’s chef while he’s still staying in the hotel. Chef de Partie Prechant knows his Korean cuisines. I enjoy the Korean bulgogi he makes.”
“Oh, that is a benevolent decision, sir. Black Mamba will be pleased.”
Bonipas bowed respectfully. The president sending over his chef to take care of somebody else’s meal was a great courtesy. It wasn’t just calling him the national treasure, but also treating him like one. Black Mamba was impressive, but the president who didn’t mind taking such measures when it came down to national interests was a respected figure too.
“Now, let us begin. I feel like the usual boring meeting will be enjoyable and amusing today.”
Mitterrand started the meeting with a bright expression. The minister of the Interior Pione spoke first.
“The border guards killed three terrorists with weapons around midnight yesterday at the Haut-Jura National Park near Lac Léman. We confirmed that they were from the same group of people who had infiltrated the de Gaulle Airport and the Opéra Bastille. With that, we’ve arrested 40 terrorists, as reported by Black Mamba. We’ve also wiped out 12 members from the Black September Organization. There are no signs of upcoming terrorism by the ANO, RAF, and Black September Organization in Paris, Marseille, Lyon, and Toulouse. Traces of the escaped terrorists crossing the borders of Switzerland and Italy were found. Those b*stards attempted to flee out of fear,” minister Pione explained confidently.
They finally reached higher grounds on the issue with the terrorists, which had initially fallen into the mud. He’d even endured a stomach ulcer from all the stress accumulated while dealing with those multi-active terrorists for several years. He wanted to carry Black Mamba around on his back. He could now rest comfortably in bed.
“That is the result of Black Mamba crumbling Ruman. They’ve grown fearful because of the unexpected strong blow. Police director Majif, please don’t lose this chance that Black Mamba has created for us. You must chase them down and uproot them all. Chief of staff Bordo, please block all borders to Italy, Switzerland, Spain, and Germany. Reiterate to their organizations that France will return 10 times the damages it received.”
“Yes, sir. I’ve already alerted the border guards of the emergency and sent the Special Warfare Forces down as reinforcements. We are establishing a counter-terrorism cooperation system with the four neighboring countries. We’ll certainly decimate all three terrorist organizations this time,” minister Pione said with confidence.
“Black Mamba personally erased over 1,000 terrorists and blew apart their nest. Military Police director, you should try establishing a similar reputation this time.”
“I’ll try my best, sir.”
Director Majif could only nod his head bitterly. The destruction of Ruman was hard to believe, but it was irrefutable. That was the truth, after all. He had swallowed his pride after initially opposing Black Mamba’s deployment.
“Director Lagos, did you analyze the CIA documents that Black Mamba brought?” Mitterrand turned to look at director Lagos.
“One of the five videotapes contain the confessions of the Middle East regional director, Paskal Belmont, and the supporting testimonies of consul Dijolle Baylout. The Ruman plan was similarly recorded here and there. If Black Mamba hadn’t stolen them, France would have lost their rights over the Syrian oil fields and become enemies with Assad. The other four videotapes contain the confessions of high-ranking officials from England and Deutschland. They must have been kidnapped too. The ANO is Assad’s Bloody Fist organization. That was the result of gang members and street members coming together. The documents that Black Mamba presented revealed the ill-intentioned relations between the CIA, ANO, and Assad. The third man in power in the ANO and the leader of Ruman, Bansiri, is currently the major general of Assad’s personal guards.”
“Dirty b*stards. I initially thought that both the CIA and Assad have the tendencies of cartel bosses, but it makes no sense that they’re holding hands with a neighborhood gang. In other words, we’ve been used. The CIA aims to restrain France, right?”
“Yes. It is a despicable operation that aims to reveal Europe’s immorality by using the ANO. They had planned to either anonymously send the tape to the Arab leaders or use it as the last hand for negotiations. They were aiming to drive us out of the Middle East by turning the Arabs’ pride against us.”
“Hm, morals. Well, I suppose we aren’t very decent, either.”
“A dog with s*** on its fur can’t say anything to a dog with fleas on its fur. All countries use some method of force,” Lagos answered as if that was a fact.
Intelligence agencies weren’t the Ministry of Health and Welfare or the Military Police department. They were considered useless existences that only consumed government funds.
“Hm, Black Mamba seems to have resolved a difficult situation. Are you planning to hand over the videotapes to England and Deutschland?”
“No, sir. Although that could work as a temporary relief, we could gain more if we present the evidence on the negotiating table with the Yankees.”
“Haha, director Bonipas, I’m afraid you will have to deal with that. If you can handle Black Mamba, those drug dealers will not be a problem for you.”
Mitterrand turned to look at Bonipas with crinkles by the edges of his eyes. Bonipas answered silently with a nod. Pressure straightened out his shoulders automatically. That was the Black Mamba effect.
Mitterrand referred to the CIA as drug dealers because of their top-secret project called the MK Ultra. In the 1950s, the CIA had started on an extreme project that manipulated human minds using LSD. In 1974, their mind control project, which utilized drugs, was made known to the world after information was leaked to the New York Times. With confirmation from the American Medical Association, the CIA suffered more humiliation when they were labeled as an immoral organization. In actual fact, the MK Ultra project was the study of combining humans, animals, and machines. The revelation back then was only the tip of the iceberg. After the incident, the MK Ultra project was relocated to Area 51.
“What happened to regional director Belmont and consul Dijolle?”
“Unfortunately, we couldn’t find traces of consul Dijolle, and regional director Belmont couldn’t withstand the torture. Consul Dijolle was probably taken care of after his confession. We’re planning to return his possessions, which Black Mamba found, to his family members.”
“Damn b*stards! How dare they torture an ally’s high-ranking official to death. They need to be punished with the Arab takfir.”
Mitterand, whose face was flushed, banged his fist on the table.
“Black Mamba already took revenge, sir. He slew the DIA agents who tortured Belmont into half, diagonally. The water explosion buried the 20 CIA agents in Ruman. Even Zaitun, who we suspected to be a consultant, was killed by Black Mamba.”
“As expected of Black Mamba. How exhilarating!” Mitterrand exclaimed.
There was no answer to the dark feud between intelligence agencies. Conclusions got lost in the tug-of-war of who was responsible and who was not. Only Black Mamba could come up with such an exhilarating solution. What a clean retaliation! All the participants in the meeting turned slightly pale. How could a human be split into half? Just hearing those words made their limbs tremble.
“Our best gain is discovering the true intent behind the CIA’s Socrates Project that was progressing in Syria.”
“I saw Bonipas’ secondary report. What exactly is the Socrates Project and its aim, that they’re advancing it with such secrecy?”
“According to the information that we received, they’re secret officials under the direct orders of the president. The higher-ups are covered in veils, but the low-ranking officials are composed of DIA agents and related researchers. They were aiming to secure strategic energy and resources. Their targets were Third World countries with unstable regimes and bountiful resources.”
“Selfish b*stards, it was a long-term plan in which they would stuff themselves by twisting the necks of those who’re struggling. There is no difference between those Yankees and Zipangus. The Jap started the war to expand their reach of resources in Southeast Asia, right? Now that I think about it, there is a difference in terms of depth, but we’ve played a part. Keke!”
Mitterrand laughed cynically. The foundation of international relations was power. Morals and justice was simply makeup. Lagos continued talking.
“There are two stages to the project that they were pushing in Syria. Firstly, to obtain Syria’s northeastern oil fields under our possession by secretly aiding Syria. Secondly, to connect Syria’s Hasakah and the Kirkuk pipelines in Mosul and Iraq to the Mediterranean Sea.”
“What did you say?”
“Connect the oil pipelines in the Middle East to the Mediterranean Sea?”
All the participants shouted in surprise. If that happened, France could only suck on their fingers while protecting Aden Bay from Djibouti.
“Major construction work would have taken place to connect the oil pipelines in Syria and Iraq to Abu Kamal, followed by the port of Baniyas in the Mediterranean. The Yankees would have had a stable oil route upon completion. The U.S. government spends 4,500,000,000 dollars annually to protect the oil pipelines in the Middle East. Upon completion, the cost would have dropped to less than half its current worth.”
“Hah, I’ve never felt such satisfaction in a long time. Did the CIA notice Black Mamba’s existence? They must be gritting their teeth by now.”
Mitterrand was elated. The Yankees had blown away their chance to replace the unstable Persian oil transport routes and the opportunity to save almost 2,200,000,000 dollars. He grew slightly concerned for Black Mamba.
“They should be. They have reconnaissance satellites and the Blackbird, after all.”
“Didn’t you say that the operative agents from the CIA retreated?”
“For a month and fortnight, they attempted to track Black Mamba by deploying extensive manpower and modern technology in the Aleppo region.”
“So they left after confirming Black Mamba’s disappearance?”
“Yes. Black Mamba’s plan to pit the Muslim Brotherhood and Assad against each other came to fruition. Assad is suspecting the CIA. Traces of Black Mamba disappeared, and all their operating points and resources disappeared. Without any gain, they lost all reason to remain. Black Mamba didn’t intend for it, but the CIA has written another chapter in history about their incompetence. That must be the reason why Bonipas calls Black Mamba a natural disaster.”
The corner of Mitterrand’s eyes creased.
“Hahaha, you’re right. A national treasure to France, and a natural disaster to enemies! We are raising the highest toast to his name. It won’t be enough with just a Légion d’honneur.”
Mitterrand was simply happy. His insides had been in turmoil because their ally, the U.S., had persistently bullied them for years. Finally, he landed a solid punch. It felt like all of his pent-up frustration was dissolving.
“Black Mamba should receive the medal, of course. Director Bonipas wouldn’t have expected a single person to overturn an entire plate. There is another good news, sir. The collapse of Kaparja has halted the Yankees’ progress of building Echelon in Syria and Iraq. If we speed up the Elios Project and rush to build the enterprise, we should be able to catch up with the Yankees’ information system.”
“An unexpected gain. We should hurry. I can only hope the press refrain from mentioning the public invasion of privacy. Tsk!”
Mitterrand clicked his tongue. The Frenchelon was a large-scale surveillance system that used satellites. A politician’s enemy was not another politician but the press. Of course, that was when the country was stable.
“We’ve already earned more time. Assad’s been wagging his tail since he lost the Air Defense unit and biological and chemical weapons.”
“Hehehe, his heart must be trembling in fear because of the empty northern skies.”
“Yes. Assad doesn’t have a choice now. He can’t go against France’s wishes with the Mirage tunnels open.”
The participants’ expressions brightened up at director Lagos’ reassurance.
“Black Mamba basically chased away the Yankees and turned Assad around. At this rate, I want to give him a piggyback ride.”
Mitterrand’s mouth hung from ear to ear.
“According to the director of Arms Acquisition, Syria has requested for our arms to be exported several times.”
At the minister’s words, all the participants turned to look at Bonipas. The exportation of arms was the responsibility of the DGSE’s operations department.
“That is also an unexpected gain. Syria has requested for us to sell 80 Mirages. Their request for self-propelled artillery and other weapons amounted to 11,000,000,000 francs.”
The participants’ mouths stretched wide open. That was great. Syria had been pursuing the acquisition of F-5s and Fighting Falcons. Assad had recklessly turned to France to purchase weapons. Now, there was a way to get rid of the bunch of Mirages and spit on the Yankees’ faces. Amazing.
“Councilmember Dasso will jump in joy. 500,000,000 isn’t enough. I should tell him to send more checks to Black Mamba.”
Mitterrand even joked around playfully. The destruction of Kaparja Valley didn’t end with the extinguishment of their existing and future threats. On the brink of being pushed out of Syria, France had basically hit the jackpot by thrashing the CIA’s head. Even Turkey and Israel were wary. The president was at the peak of his mood.
“Director Bonipas, sending Black Mamba out there was truly the hand of God. The Yankees are essentially kicked off at checkmate. I won’t complain about the DGSE’s funds ever again.” The minister of Interior smiled in agreement.
A cheerful meeting of its firsts ended.
Mitterrand turned to look at Bonipas.
“We can’t avoid conflict with the U.S. if they catch a whiff of Black Mamba’s existence, right?”