Mercenary Black Mamba

"Hahaha!"

He erupted in laughter. The warmth from her small body dissolved away the torment and stress he'd accumulated over 49 days. So what of it? A good ending made everything better.

"Wael, how is your leg?"

"Ma-ma yaeni hada?"[1]

Wael looked down at him curiously. Black Mamba pointed at her leg.

"Aha!"

Wael jumped down, ran all the way up with a bounce, and ran back.

"Haqqan ka-na mushalian."[2]

"Ya Ilahi! Haqqan?"[3]

Black Mamba exclaimed in surprise. Regardless of age, men could only outlive women by agreeing and reacting to their words. "Wow," "Really," "Woah," and "Oh my god" were the four combinations of words that would make any conversation flow between a man and a woman. It was "exaggeration" in theory.

"Ya Ilahi[4]! Kyahaha!"

The child's cheeks turned peachy as she giggled. Her black eyes twinkled in excitement. She was so adorable that he wanted to bite her. He wanted to protect her laughter. He had turned into a monster who ate other monsters, and he ended up being envious of naive humans instead. However, his dreams were too extreme for an ordinary life, and he'd come too far to go back.

"You're too young to be out here all alone. Let's hurry home."

It seemed as though she went around everywhere after she had healed from her unilateral paralysis. He lifted Wael in the air and set her on his shoulders, giving her a shoulder ride.

Kya-haha—

The ringing of laughter filled Maydanki Lake, which had lost a fair bit of water.

Black Mamba, who was walking toward the lake upstream, turned his feet slightly toward the sparse forest. There were a lot of villagers gathered in front of the village. The small village with 160 houses near the lake was Gobelaka Village. Bakri's house was one kilometer away from the village.

A middle-aged man was kneeling on the ground. Five men with their entire faces covered in cloth were standing before him. They wore dishdashas and khaki military uniforms that were in tatters while carrying rifles and knives. The atmosphere was very intense.

A man wearing a keffiyeh was reading off a scroll. Other than the few words such as Wahhab[5], fatwa[6], al-wusul[7], and hisbas[8], he didn't understand anything else.

Once the man finished reading, the villagers cheered. Based on Black Mamba's experiences, the temperament of Arabs was like a narrow canyon or a wadi. Rapid currents would flow through the narrow canyon when it rained, and the dry wadi of deserts would turn into streams. After some time, it always returned to normal as though nothing had happened.

One of the armed men raised a machete and stood behind the middle-aged man.

Is he…?

Curiosity killed the cat. The machete fell. Black Mamba immediately covered Wael's eyes and ears with his hands.

"Ahhh!"

Blood spilled out like a fountain along with a pitiful cry. The middle-aged man struggled after the blade fell onto his neck. Cutting off a human's neck wasn't easy. Only those who were specialized with a knife could cut off a person's head at once.

Bang—

A gunshot rang. The man stopped moving.

"Ajussi!"

"Shh, let's go."

There were laws in Syria. It wasn't a pleasant scene to watch, but he couldn't just interfere either. The emergence of an unknown armed organization was a threat. He started worrying about Bakri's family.

A single-floor house with walls made of earth appeared. Wael jumped down. She shot into the house like an arrow.

"Ha, that little brat."

The child, who had been expressionless and quiet, became playful.

"Dad, ajussi came. I was right, wasn't I?"

Bakri, who had been fixing the broken fence, leaped to his feet.

"You little brat, you went down there again, didn't you?"

"Hmph, but I met ajussi!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

Wael nodded her head like a spring. Bakri's heart raced. Ever since his daughter learned the word "uncle" from Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa, she used the Korean word "ajussi" instead of "amm[9]." There was only one person who Wael would call ajussi. His daughter didn't even call her uncle Mohammad "amm." Her illness had healed, but the wounds in her heart hadn't.

"Akh Jamal, it seems as though Sir has arrived."

Akh, which also meant "my brother," was a term used to refer to a close friend or someone of the same religion.

"Who are you speaking of?"

Jamal, who had been milking the sheep, turned to look at Bakri.

"Akh, there's no one I call 'Sir' other than Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa."

"Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa?"

Jamal grabbed the half-filled bucket of sheep milk and got to his feet. He had been waiting with a desperate heart, but that was too abrupt. How could he trust the words of a six-year-old child? On top of that, she was a girl. The perception of women in Arab was too pitiful. They considered women as possessions, like cows and sheep. A woman's word had no power.

"Hadritak Bakri, are you certain?"

"Hadritak" was an appellation for the elderly or someone respectable. It had a similar meaning to Korea's "old pal" or "teacher."

"Do you still not know him? Sir is someone who comes and leaves as he wants. An exploding dam or a collapsing mountain won't stop his feet from moving. He comes in Allah's stead."

"Those are very kind words, Bakri, but I'm just a normal human."

A man whose private parts were barely covered with a skirt made of reeds and face full of hair stepped into the yard.

"Ah, Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa!"

The bucket of sheep milk in Jamal's hand dropped.

Whoosh—

In a flash, Black Mamba crossed the distance of 10 meters between them and carefully raised the bucket with his foot.

"You shouldn't throw away food."

He raised the 20-liter bucket and gulped it down. The half-filled bucket of sheep milk disappeared instantly. Black Mamba, who emptied the bucket of sheep milk, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Kah, it's good. The sour taste is refreshing."

"Dubi, you're a pig!"

Wael, who was jumping around Black Mamba the entire time, shouted.

"Hahaha, you're right. I'm a pig, ajussi."

Black Mamba chuckled.

Clang—

The empty bucket fell. Bakri and Jamal's consciousness, which had drifted to Andromeda, returned. He was wearing a strange costume, but they recognized Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa at a glance. The reckless actions of someone instantly drinking an entire bucket of sheep milk could only be him.

They hurried to kneel. Arabs didn't lower their heads or bowed to others. They also didn't kneel. They only kneeled because they didn't regard Black Mamba as a human.

"Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa, what happened to—"

"Bakri, I need some clothes."

"Ah, right!"

Bakri slapped his forehead as he rushed to his feet. Wael ran over carrying a tobe.

"Oh, jeez."

It seemed as though the women inside the house had seen his figure. Unlike most Syrian households, Bakri's family was open-minded. No women donned the niqab or hijab. Even so, they couldn't shake off the traditional culture that centered around men. If another man had stepped inside the house naked, there would be chaos. Bakri would have stormed over with an ax in hand, while the women would be questioned as to whether they had seen the man's body.

Black Mamba sat on a large rock in the middle of the yard after covering his body with the tobe.

"Bakri, Jamal, it's nice to meet you again."

"Allahu Akbar. Hada afdal yaumin pi-hayati-duh shuduh Ddu-bai-buru-pa wa sadi!"[10]

"Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa, I hope you've had a safe journey."

"Ashkorak[11]! What was Wael doing down at the lake so early in the morning?"

"She always visits the place where she first met you, Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa. Every morning since you left, she always sneaks out despite our countless protests."

"Haha. It seems like I've gained the affections of a young lady. Jamal, you've found your way here."

Jamal lowered his head further.

"I'm sorry, Master. The Syrian Army rushed into Kaparja Valley in large numbers. I couldn't wait for you, Master, and had to extract myself."

"Good job. One's life can't be compared to some mere gold."

"Ah!"

Jamal and Bakri exclaimed at the same time. It was as expected of Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa. Who else could be that generous! Bakri, who had heard of the events that had happened in Kaparja from Jamal, shivered from head to toe. He thought he knew Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa well, but it seemed as though he still had more to learn. Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa's abilities knew no bounds.

"Master, Jamal brought some of your belongings with him when he evacuated. Mohammad and Jamal also moved the gold over. We've hidden them in the castle ruins' basement, on top of the hill."

Black Mamba jumped to his feet in surprise.

"Why, you've done something dangerous. There should be countless Mukhabarat and soldiers scattered around Aleppo City. Did anyone get hurt?"

"No, we are safe because of Allah's grace and your protection. I couldn't leave your wealth be, Master."

Black Mamba shook his head at Jamal's words.

"Jamal, gold may be important, but it is not comparable to the weight of life. What would you have done if someone died? Next time, place your life as the highest priority. Anyway, good job."

"I'll keep your words in mind, Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa."

The two men bowed deeply. Those were the words of a true apostle. They were determined to serve Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa with their lives once more. Black Mamba's protests had gathered their loyalty instead.

"Jamal, did you bring your parents here?"

"Yes, sir. I am indebted to Hadritak."

"Good. What happened to Kaparja?"

He was worried whether the pouring lake water had created any problems for the village downstream. His target had been the terrorists and soldiers and not the average citizens.

"I moved the backpack filled with gold to a higher terrain after you infiltrated deep inside the valley, Master. The Kindall B-zone was an entryway to the valley, which doubled the risks of exposing the backpack. In the end, my timidness saved your wealth, Master. Even the tanks were swept away by the strong currents. The backpack would have long disappeared if I didn't move it. Hehehe!"

"You've made the right decisions." Black Mamba smiled widely.

"My limbs still tremble thinking about the water that filled the valley, Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa. The 50-meter tall lake water rushed down faster than a car. The Third Airborne Regiment, who had moved forward with tanks in the lead, were washed away and destroyed. Both cliffs in Kaparja Valley collapsed, and the entire valley disappeared."

"Woah! Was it so extreme? I've gone a little too far. Assad must be pissed," Black Mamba replied as though he'd simply rammed a stake into a pumpkin.

Flabbergasted, Bakri and Jamal's mouths were agape. Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa had blown apart Ruman, the biological and chemical weapons storage facility, the strategic air command post, and the dam. He'd also incapacitated the Third Airborne Regiment and changed the entire Kaparja terrain. He had the cheek to call that "a little too far." He was someone who could sink the entire Arabian Peninsula if that was considered "a little too far."

"The spear and shield, which Assad had prepared with great care, disappeared. He must be gritting his teeth. Hadritak has sent akh Mohammad to gather information. It's time he returned. We should be able to get some detailed information when he returns."

"Mohammad is trustworthy. Bakri, restrict your family and followers from going out for now. There's going to be a rise in conflict. Some unfortunate displays took place in front of the village's entrance."

Bakri's facial muscles loosened up. He understood the situation immediately.

"It's the Wahhabis acting up. They are people who call themselves the warriors of Islam, using the principles of the Sunni fundamentalists."

"It seems like the Mukhabarat have overlooked them."

Black Mamba got straight to the point. Intelligence agencies were neither good nor bad. They were good if it benefited the country and bad if they produced losses. There were no concepts like terrorism to them. Their only concern was whether someone was useful or not. There were times when decisions were solely made for the benefit of their organization and not the country. It would be faster to find a virgin in the red-light district than requesting for morality from an intelligence agency.

Terrorism could be a reason behind the existence of intelligence agencies or the justification of intelligence-gathering activities. The British intelligence agencies had been established because of the Irish Fenian's explosives attacks in 1870. Russia's secret police, the Okhrana, had also been established because of the attacks between anarchists and nihilists.

Most intelligence agencies, including the CIA, used terrorism as a means of survival during information acquisition. The terrorism defined by the state agencies were different from the public's definition. In simple terms, intelligence agencies and terrorism were like Siamese twins. After all, Assad had raised the ANO and Black September Organization of Ruman as the first blood too.

The Saud royal family were nobilities of Wahhabism. They were a representative royal family who used Wahhabism as the national law to suppress public disapproval and maintain their tyranny. On the other hand, Assad, who was pan-Arabism, used the destruction of Wahhabism to gather the citizens under one dictatorship. Regardless of their moralities, both governments were involved in terrorism.

That brought about the rise of complex dynamics and heterogeneity of the Arabs. When Assad mobilized his army to destroy the Muslim Brotherhood, Saudi Arabia secretly supplied military funds and weapons to the Muslim Brotherhood.

That was also the reason why the Arab world couldn't do anything about Israel, continuing on their self-destructive ways. Black Mamba's title was the foreign relations cultural counselor of the French Embassy in Korea. Although it was a worthless seat without a desk, he had constantly received reports on the international dynamics.

"Yes, you're correct. They're using the violent follower cells of Wahhabism to control the same Sunni faction. The man that Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa saw was a Sunni follower who went against the religious laws. The reason was his negligence to punish his 18-year-old daughter for not wearing a hijab and for loving a man of a different religion."

"Woah! How can that be a reason?"

Black Mamba was shocked. The hijab was something that he could force himself to understand, but killing a father because he failed to punish his daughter for loving a man of a different religion? There was no other madness.

[1] "What does that mean?"

[2] "I really love it."

[3] "Oh my god! Really?"

[4] You gave me a shock!

[5] The founder of the Islamic fundamentalism movement, Wahhabism.

[6] A former ruling or interpretation on a point in Islamic law given by a qualified legal scholar.

[7] Islamic fundamentalists.

[8] An Islamic doctrine that means "accountability." It is an individual or a collective duty of intervening to maintain the norms of Sharia law.

[9] Uncle in Arabic.

[10] "Allah is great. My master Sir Ddu-bai-buru-pa has returned. May the greatest day of my life be praised!"

[11] Thank you!