Chapter 211: The Syria-Ruman Plan

Black Mamba had a painful memory of losing six of his comrades due to the backdoor plan and double contract plan. There was no way for him to have positive notions of the DGSE, their higher order GCP, and the GIGN, who were the cause of the incident. He had spat out cutting comments, influenced by his deep-rooted mistrust.

During the Sahel plan, the GIGN had used the Ratel team as their smokescreen to pull out the raccoon. They had failed and had to receive GCP’s full assistance to barely succeed. It was something he had come to learn after his return.

If the GCP and GIGN had moved properly regardless of the backdoor plan, Chartres and many of his friends wouldn’t have had to die. However, the country had abandoned the Legion Etranger, whom they should have supported, and instead, gave their full support to the GIGN.

In other terms, the GIGN was treated like VIPs while the mercenaries were treated like nomads. In Black Mamba’s perspective, the GIGN and GCP had shoved the Ratel team to death and had played around until his comrades died. He naturally began to loathe them.

North Korea’s involvement was nothing to be surprised about. North Korea had been falling behind South Korea’s economic and diplomatic growth since the ’80s. So, North Korea began to focus their attention on Africa and West Asia, which South Korea had failed to notice.

North Korea and Syria called themselves brother countries. Assad was someone who had learned how to control and surveil his citizens from Kim Il Sung. Assad had simply called in a fierce dog and gifted it with iron claws.

Bonipas and Claude smiled bitterly at Black Mamba’s provocations. Ordo’s face crumpled. It had been Ordo who had given the Black September Organization’s training center an Arabic name.

A pomegranate’s mesocarp and epicarp were red. When its skin burst, red seeds spilled out. With the similarity of a hand that spilled the blood of sinners, and the pomegranate, which spilled red seeds, he had made an adept comparison!

Mister Ordo considered himself culturally refined. Most of France’s upper society members considered themselves culturally refined or culturally knowledgeable.

Most of them had racist ideals against Asians. Ordo was no different. Despite going through Black Mamba’s many records, he didn’t trust him.

Chinese were good at bluffing. (Ordo didn’t have access to see Black Mamba’s identity.) The documents he’d read on Black Mamba were filled with impossible information. It was a solid fact that a single person could not go against an organization’s unified strength.

Even a lion would run away with its tail tucked between its legs when five to six hyenas attacked. There was a scientific limit to a human’s physical ability. A human couldn’t run as fast no matter how hard they trained, and they couldn’t be stronger than an ox.

Ordo, who had just regarded Black Mamba as a Chinese with good aiming skills, was offended. For him to know that Ruman meant pomegranates and Sagan’s poems?

He was still a Chin-duck who smelled of onions. For someone of a lower rank than him to mock the GIGN, he had to be out of his mind.

“It seems like not all the past criminals of Legion Etranger are idiots. Did the Department of National Defense change the rules? Perhaps, they award call names based on their cultural knowledge.”

It was a reply which wavered between an exclamation and a mocking. That was when Ordo’s head crashed onto the table with his chair falling to the side.

Ssah—

An unknown object passed the back of Ordo’s head with an accompanied air vibration.

Cra-a-ack—

The object embedded itself in the concrete wall. Anger surged through him before shock could be registered. If it hadn’t been for his instincts that were refined after several battles, he would have died without knowing what had hit him.

“Putain, je n’en vous plui.”[1]

Angered, Ordo pulled out his gun.

“If a skull is shattered by a peanut, is that considered murder, involuntary manslaughter, or a comedy? The military judges will rot their heads over it. This isn’t as good as the Korean peanuts, but it’s okay.”

Black Mamba chewed on the peanuts comfortably as he spoke in a bored tone. He didn’t seem to care about the gun, which was pointed at his chest.

“Arachide?”[2]

Ordo’s jaw dropped open upon confirming the objects embedded in the wall. Six peanuts had formed a circle in the concrete wall. It had been the roasted peanuts they’d prepared as snacks.

This b*stard’s the real deal. He’s not a human but the devil.

The back of his head grew cold. Did the peanuts kill a GIGN supervisor? He feared what the media would say more than he feared death. He slowly pushed the gun back into its holster.

“There are a lot of stupid people in Legion Etranger, but there’s no coward. Whether the person is a criminal or an idiot, a soldier’s job is to kill the enemies well, isn’t it? It’s because of those mercenaries you mocked that your subordinates were able to pull out the raccoon. If you mock those mercenaries again, you’ll be the first soldier to die by a peanut. Je Suis desole[3].”

Black Mamba’s French was still haphazard.

Clap clap—

Bonipas clapped his hands.

“Black Mamba, Monsieur Ordo is our guest. Don’t scare him.”

Ordo’s face, which was regaining its color, frowned once more. Sometimes, the sister-in-law who stopped her mother-in-law was more hateful.

“Monsieur, you want to deploy the GIGN members to Aleppo, right?” Black Mamba hit the mark.

“GIGN is the best anti-terrorist team.”

“No, I’m talking about deploying them to Aleppo.”

There was silence.

Ordo’s face turned red. In the beginning, he was thinking of creating a team that was based around the GIGN, then adding Black Mamba to their midst. Now, he’d heard the Black September Organization’s information clearly and saw Black Mamba’s ability for himself. He’d been clinging onto the thread of ambition and had ignored reality. Still, that didn’t mean he had to agree to the situation.

“Black Mamba, are you saying you can get rid of Ruman by yourself?”

“Of course. I need to go through five steps. Infiltration, Search, Confirmation, Annihilation, and Retreat.”

“How? That is missing, isn’t it?” Ordo shouted.

“Calmez-Vous. Ordo, how I go about doing this is up to me. The call name Black Mamba isn’t something I had pulled out of a casino. I always work roughly. I get rid of all those complicated procedures that you guys follow like a manual to control the surroundings before attacking.”

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Ordo was lost for words. He was right. There wasn’t a pattern to Black Mamba’s operations in his battle analysis. Immediate responsive battles and improvised attacks without the need of aid were his specialties. If GIGN was the chef who made B rations in modern kitchens, Black Mamba was someone who made A rations in a field flowing rivers of blood.

“Mister Ordo, I don’t have a lot of patience. I saw the disagreement in your expression since the beginning, and your brainwaves were unstable. Things like pride don’t help solve a case at all. If you’re that confident, why don’t you send the GIGN to Aleppo? There’s no hole to crawl through the ground, and air-drops are impossible. There’s a lot of air missiles and radars from the Soviet Union lining the Kaparja Valley after all. The shooting range of a Strela-2 and Igla is 5,000 meters and an S-75 at 15,000 meters. To avoid the Soviet’s radars, you’d need to go higher. Is there a GIGN member who can fall from 15,000 meters in height? If there is, good luck. I’ll just watch.”

Black Mamba drove him up the wall and folded his arms. His actions seemed to say, “bring it on.”

“Hm!”

Once more, Ordo’s face rotted into crinkles at his loss of words.

Haa—

Hooo—

A strange noise rang.

Claude’s face had ripened red. When else could he watch Mister GIGN’s high nose get shattered into pieces? Blood had rushed to his face in his attempt to hold back his laughter.

On the other hand, Bonipas’s mind was drawing a blank. The guy had surprised him. Black Mamba had somehow known about the air missiles stationed in Kaparja Valley.

Ordo gave up cleanly. If the GIGN was a wolf, this guy was a tiger. A wolf and a tiger cannot hunt together. If he kept insisting, his pride would be harmed. He glared at Claude and apologized.

“Excuse moi.”[5]

“Ce n’est pas grave[6]. I came on too harshly.”

When the atmosphere eased up, Claude continued to explain.

“Ruman’s residents are predicted to be around 300 to 400. We’ve based the number on provisions and deaths. Syria’s secret police are supplying them with food, weapons, and clothes—their basic needs. Their weapons are from the Soviet Union and North Korea, friends of terrorist organizations.”

Friends of terrorist organizations meant AK-47’s and RPG-7’s. It had been the best-sellers among terrorist organizations due to their cheap prices and widespread uses.

“There isn’t a place that those northern beggars left alone. Exactly what kinds of weapons do they have?”

“I’m disappointed with the Helios video security satellite we’re currently developing. The video we filmed isn’t clear as the HUMINT activities were obtained from long distance. Aside from the personal firearms and support arms, there are four of North Korea’s 76 millimeters mortars. They also have machine guns, submachine guns, grenade launchers, hand grenades, and several types of mines. The 82 millimeters recoilless mortar and ASG-17 Plamya grenade launchers were supplied by Syria. They’re at the level where enacting large-scale public terrors won’t be a problem.”

“Claude, weapons aren’t important here.” Black Mamba shook his head.

“There’s something even more fearsome than people and weapons. It’s their conviction that they’re doing the right thing. In other words, the Black September Organization is a cult. Also, their sympathizers are another problem. The Black September Organization’s training grounds in Kaparja Valley have historical value. Currently, Islamic terrorist organizations are made up of Shiites.”

“We know that.”

“We need to understand their family tree to know our foes and allies. The Shura, which was established after Prophet Muhammad’s death, completely excluded Prophet Muhammad’s paternal family. From Bakr-Umar-Osman’s line of secession, Muhammad’s fourth cousin, Ali, became the fourth Caliph in 45 years. The traditional Caliph’s appearance, which had been neglected, was temporary. Ali was assassinated. Ali’s son Husayn was also assassinated. The assassinators were sent by Syria’s Umayyad dynasty. Muhammad’s direct descendants criticized the central Arabian power in Syria and left in anger. They are the Shiites. The central power of Syria became the Sunnis under the definition of a legitimate community.”

“What does Islamic history have to do with the current situation?” Ordo asked snidely.

Black Mamba turned and stared at Ordo. Flinching, Ordo looked the other way.

“Hm, amazing. So, you understood that far? I’ll explain the rest.” Bonipas stepped up.

“Ordo, there isn’t a tree without roots and a child without a father. A head is attached for one to think,” Black Mamba finally spoke and closed his mouth.

Ordo’s face grew red. There wasn’t a humiliation like this. He shifted a few times in his chair but ultimately settled. He couldn’t rush out of the door either as it would be beneath him.

“The Shiites don’t acknowledge the Sunni’s Caliph. They selected an ‘Imam’ amongst Muhammad’s descendants and gave him the power beyond a Caliph’s religious and secular power. The Shiites were divided once more in the 11th century. The Ismailis, which is also known as the Nizari, became the founder of radical violent attacks and initial assassins. They are assassins who didn’t use poisons or traps but daggers. To them, the attacks aren’t political assassinations but religious conversion. The place of settlement for those radical, violent Ismailis was Aleppo. Aleppo meant religious conversion to the Ismailis. All the modern Arab terrorist organizations are taking the middle-ages’ assassin as their role model. Hezbollah, Hamas, and Jihad are all the same. The Shiites and Syria are obviously not in tune. Aleppo is a cuckoo’s egg in Syria’s arms. Some day, it will be the gasoline that burns Syria to the ground. The reason why the Black September Organization’s training center was able to settle in Aleppo was due to Assad’s intelligence. Assad is hiding his intentions to pit his enemies against each other. He’s saying he won’t stay still if France attacks Ruman. Not because he likes the Black September Organization, but because he wants to swallow the oil field that France has developed. That’s why this plan needs the highest level of secrecy. Don’t you think so, Black Mamba?”

“Right. The largest problem is that Aleppo is home to the Shiites and the Ismailis’ headquarters. Most of the locals around Aleppo are the Black September Organization’s eyes and ears. Also, you could see them as warriors who are ready to grab their guns whenever and wherever. This means that, with a haphazard attack plan, we’ll be suppressed by both the locals and Syria’s secret police who’ve converted. That’s why we need to attack like lightning and escape like a shadow so that the Syria and the Aleppo locals won’t realize. So, the egg’s shell cannot be cracked, and the white mustn’t be touched while extracting the core. This is why I mentioned the Shiites’ history.”

Bonipas turned to look at Ordo. He looked as though he was saying, “this is how smart our Black Mamba is” or something along that line.

“Haaa!” Ordo sighed deeply.

He’d been completely defeated by an eastern yellow. He hadn’t known that a mere mercenary could be so knowledgeable in Islam’s history and could go against the important strategic variables.

“Hu, fine. I’ll be leaving now. I understand there’s no place for us in this Ruman plan. Black Mamba, it was an enlightening meeting. I’ll buy you a drink later.”

Ordo stood up and left with crouched shoulders. Claude accompanied him and returned.

“It’s surprising that the man, who’s known to be stubborn, would willingly buy drinks for someone. Did his brain structure get upended with that shock?”

“He must have found the money and efforts invested until now too wasteful to simply hand the plan over to Black Mamba. At least he gave up like a man. The GIGN had been suffering the past year after all.”

“That doesn’t matter. Whether it’s the GCP, GIGN, or ANO, I simply need to bury them all if they get in the way.”

[1] “F***, I don’t like you.”

[2] “Peanuts?”

[3] Sorry about that.

[4] Calm down.

[5] “Excuse me.”

[6] It’s fine.

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