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Chapter 213: Chapter 26, Episode 7: The Syria-Ruman Plan

Black Mamba trusted his body. When he had to HALO jump from 13,000 meters above ground, he would descend 12,000 meters, at 70 meters per second, at -50 degrees Celsius. If he fell without protective gear, his soul was bound to leave his body before he landed on the ground.

One had to wear an air-pressure suit when falling from high altitudes so that blood wouldn’t accumulate at the hands, feet, and head. Too much blood in the head would cause sleepiness and blurred one’s decision-making skills.

In high altitudes, there was nothing to indicate the right balance above the clouds. A person could only consider themselves floating in the air. Hands and feet would lose their senses. Failure to check the pressure indicator would throw them down at 200 to 300 kilometers per hour, leading to a rough landing!

Deuxieme Rep used all kinds of safety gear when conducting a 5,000 meters HALO training session.

13,000 meters was a terrifying altitude!

A 70 kilograms gunpowder sack, a 50 kilograms equipment sack, a parachute container, and a sub-parachute weighed around 135 kilograms in total. It was hard to wear a pressurized G-suit that restricted all limbs, a helmet, and an oxygen mask in the first place. So, it became questionable whether the fat panda could move its limbs to control its landing position.

Syria’s archenemies were France and Turkey. There were plenty of anti-aircraft fire weapons stationed along Kaparja Valley near Turkey’s borders. They didn’t know whether the S-75s were stationed, but an invasion plan had to proceed with the worst scenarios in mind. A 12,000 meters free-fall took around 150 seconds, and an additional 110 seconds were wasted after opening the canopy from 1,000 meters.

260 seconds wasn’t a short time. If he was spotted by an anti-aircraft gun or a Vulcan during his landing, it would be the end. With gears and heavy equipment attached that restricted his body’s movements, it was a one-way ticket to greeting Allah.

A quick escape was also necessary after landing. Having all kinds of safety gear on would only expose him to the Mukhabarat’s radar.

What was the most feared name in Syria?

It was the secret police, Mukhabarat. Simply hearing that name could make a Syrian flinch. No one knew who operated the organization or who the informants were. It was known to have 1,200,000 members in total, but no one knew the exact number.

There was an example of Mukhabarat’s intelligence capability. In 1982, two workers from South Korea’s Ministry of Commerce, who had visited Syria after many trials, visited a carpet store in the backstreets of Damascus. The owner had sold the rug he’d bought from a local at 500 Ls at 1,500 Ls.

The owner, who had received a complaint, told them it was the government’s regulations. As a socialist country, Syria had high market prices. The locals, however, enjoyed a lower price. The two Korean workers had complained about the Syrian government’s price regulations. Of course, they had complained in Korean.

Two tall men had greeted the Koreans’ return to their hotel at the gates. The two Koreans were immediately arrested. In fluent Korean, the Mukhabarat agent began to investigate them.

The two workers of the Ministry of Commerce had lied and said that they never criticized Syria’s government. A moment later, another agent had appeared. They had reenacted the conversation between the two Koreans down to the very last detail.

It was something to be scared about. Not only was the Mukhabarat’s presence surprising, but the fact that they had understood Korean was even more so.

The two had been released after signing a document in which they swore not to speak badly of Syria’s government. It went unspoken that they weren’t able to comment about Syria’s government the entire time that they were there.

In order to avoid unexpected dangers, he had to wear his uniform and decrease the fall time as much as he could. Black Mamba decided to trust his body’s abilities that no one else knew.

With a T-score of 5.2 comparable to the duralumin of a honeycomb multi-layered skeleton and a 15-layered, multi-plated, spring-structured skin, his circulatory system could process five times faster than an average human. His friend, Professor Giz, had come to that conclusion after examining him. Professor Giz had called him a new species without hesitation.

The air pressure at an altitude of 13,000 meters was around 0.25 bar. It was the pressure of boiling blood. He believed that his strong skeleton and skin could withstand the speed and decreasing temperature for every 100 meters, and his blood could deceivingly circulate and replenish oxygen levels.

“Invasion isn’t an easy deal for me either. I wonder if I can breathe Paris’ air again,” Black Mamba complained meaninglessly.

As usual, there was no reason to tell them the techniques of his approach. The DGSE Intelligence Department and Technical Design Division would write fiction stories of the mission when it ended anyway.

“I completely understand. We’ve prepared a fitting reward for your troubles. The landing would earn you 1,000,000 francs, erasing all the terrorists in Ruman would be 2,000,000 francs, and the destruction of their base would be 4,000,000 francs, while photographs will be compensated separately at 500,000 francs.”

“Hm, 5,000,000 francs would be fine. I don’t want to take photos.”

An eraser man with a camera around his neck was a style that could only appear in one of those cheesy Japanese mangas. It was a gag that only people behind their desks could come up with. Just imagining it was already horrible.

5,000,000 francs was equivalent to 120,00,00,000 Korean won. It was 520 years worth of a Korean bank manager’s salary. It was a rather satisfying, no, an amazing achievement considering that this was his first official overseas mission. He didn’t want to perform poorly just to earn an additional 500,000 francs from shoving a camera everywhere.

Bonipas had offered another deal.

“If you bring the documents from Ruman, I’ll offer up to 1,000,000 francs based on its importance.”

Black Mamba stared at Bonipas’ belly, which protruded out of his body. His physique was thin like a bamboo, the type that emphasizes belly fat, even when he was small. He looked like a bread store owner who wouldn’t offer a single discount.

He was an amazing bread store owner. Unlike his appearance, Bonipas was giving and optimized on chances. He always betted beyond what Black Mamba had thought he would.

“It seems like you found some joy looking through those documents from the Sahel.”

Bonipas nodded his head.

“It’s true. We’ve managed to press down on the North polar bear’s nose and gained a few advantages thanks to you.”

“Good. I’ll do that much since we’ve known each other for a while.”

“Thank you. You’re honestly the only one capable of this plan. To avoid foreign diplomatic frictions, you will need to erase any traces of invasion, action, and retreat.”

“No problem!”

Bonipas’ face brightened. As expected of Black Mamba, it was a plan that had required him to enter an enemy state and erase the base where 100s of mad fanatics had resided. Moreover, he had to erase them like lightning so that no one would notice. Who else other than Black Mamba could agree to an impossible mission like that!

“I don’t want to become frozen and add my remains to a tell[1]. Prepare a mask and glove to protect my skin. I’ll deal with everything else myself. Do you have the retreat route prepared?”

Claude’s face darkened.

“It’s 25 kilometers from Ruman to Turkey. Once you go past the border, there’s a village called Antakya. There, you need to reach out to a DGSE agent. Hatay Airport is 50 kilometers away from there. The agent will wait for you with regular passenger passports and documents.”

Black Mamba’s eyes narrowed.

“Claude, are you stupid, or are you just acting like one? This is a battle that requires me to fight against 100s of enemies armed with firepower in the enemy’s base. Even if I do survive, do you think my body will be fine? You want me to escape with my body in pieces? Once they realize I’m a mercenary from France, Aleppo and its 100s of locals will attack me like piranhas, tearing away at my meat and bones.”

Black Mamba’s worries weren’t excessive. The Syrians, with their half-rooted French culture, would stone him to death and more.

The Syrians’ hatred towards France was more than the Koreans’ hatred towards Japan. That also meant that France had done far worse things to Syria compared to what Japan had done to Korea.

The Syria that existed today was compressed and crinkled into a lump. Syria had once been a great nation that represented regions, including Iraq, Lebanon, Jordan, and Israel. It had been referred to as Levant Syria.

France and England had played a part in shaping Levant Syria into its current state. France had been at the forefront of the Crusades since the 11th century. Back then, the knights of France had destroyed and looted Syria’s archaeological sites.

In the mid-16th century, they had gained a strange autonomy over Syria from Turkey called the Foreigners Residence Agreement. France had used the autonomy to loot from Syria.

After World War I, Turkey had stepped back from its governance over Syria, which had sparked a fight between France and England over Syria, a potential war trophy.

In 1916, France and England had created a Sykes-Picot agreement and divided Levant Syria. France took what was now known as Lebanon and Syria while England had swallowed Iraq, Jordan, and Palestine. Syria had vomited blood over the deal.

In 1917, the nation of Jews, Israel, had entered the land of Palestine under the Balfour Declaration.

France had taken over Syria once more in 1920. Back then, France had made a historical mistake it should never have made. It had separated Lebanon from Syria with the excuse of protecting the Maronites, a Catholic faction.

So, Levant Syria had been divided into six countries, Jordan, Lebanon, Palestine, Israel, Iraq, and Syria. France had created the powder keg of the Middle East, the hotbed for terrorism.

France had endlessly continued to plunder oil, mineral, and cotton from Syria during its control. They had even overstepped their power and gave the north-east Alexandretta region to Turkey. It was a similar case to the brutality that Japan had committed when they handed Gando over to China in 1909 under the Gando Convention.

In 1925, Syria’s independence uprising had broken out all around Damascus. France had suppressed Damascus’ uprising with overwhelming military violence. France had taken Syria’s best resources for 26 years until April 17th, 1946, when the troops had moved out.

France had done many inexplicable things it shouldn’t have done to other countries since the time of its imperialism. In other words, Europe’s Japan was France. Of course, the same went for other European countries. Europe and the United States’ horrible actions had simply been covered up because of their reign in the Golden Ages.

Korea had remained divided due to a powerful country’s intervention. According to the powerhouses’ mutual relationships, Syria had been divided into six areas. The severity of each country’s historical misfortunes shouldn’t be judged by comparison.

However, one thing was certain. When the citizens were divided, the country lost its strength. A powerless country’s future belonged in the gutter. The citizens, who had selected a wrong leader, were bound to find full retribution.

There was silence.

Claude couldn’t answer the question regarding his retreat route and shifted from side to side.

“Won’t there be some leeway in the mission if you gain Turkey’s cooperation?”

Bonipas felt uneasy at Black Mamba’s rightful words. France and Turkey’s relationship wasn’t that bad. However, there had been strains with Mitterrand’s government when moralism had fallen into place.

Turkey and Armenia were long-time enemies. Their hatred and long-running emotions were deeply rooted compared to the relationship between Korea and Japan. The problem had begun when the Muslim Seljuk Turks had conquered Christian leadership in Armenia during the 11th century.

Armenians had been massacred several times throughout history. It was known that over 2,000,000 people were killed. Armenia had requested an apology and reparations from Turkey. Turkey had given excuses by saying that it was a side-effect of World War I and migration. They had stepped back, saying that an apology and reparations didn’t make sense. It was like the replicated relationship between Korea and Japan.

Mitterrand had interfered with the fight between the two countries. He had sided with Armenia. France had once looted from Syria and Armenia with the help of Turkey. There were no ever-lasting friends or foes in international relationships. There were only mutual interests.

“The stupid Mitterrand has involved himself with Armenia’s problems. It’s not easy to use Turkey’s Hatay Airport since our relations have deteriorated. Won’t you be able to escape by yourself?” Bonipas pleaded.

“Huh, what a lacking plan. It’s too weak, isn’t it? You’ll be in a difficult place if I just return to Korea, director Bonipas. 10,000,000 francs for clearing Ruman, including the terrorists and 2,000,000 francs for the documents.”

Black Mamba negotiated his reward to twice its amount. He felt a deja vu. He’d once threatened his uncle to leave the house if he wasn’t given 1,000 won a month. 1,000 won was the least amount of money he could survive with and spend on school supplies and books.

A frustrated person was bound to dig the well. The mission was a contract mission. He had to work for his food, but there were too many variables. He was going to be rude if left with no choice.

“Bon!”[2]

Did he agree?

He was taken aback by the resounding agreement. 10,000,000 francs wasn’t something that he could simply agree to. He felt as if he had played right into Bonipas’ hands. That sly fox!

“Bon! We should drink the water since the salt’s been consumed.”

The bus had already left the station. Black Mamba agreed like always. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it wasn’t impossible.

Phew! I did it!

Bonipas sighed in relief. He seemed to have aged 10 years from the discussion. His gall had been shrinking in fear that Black Mamba would run mad. The Ruman mission was an impossible mission for even the best soldiers of the GCP and GIGN. No, deploying them in the first place was impossible. There was no way to enter Ruman.

The government’s power had weakened when the terrorists’ attack targets grew concentrated at public facilities. There were already calls for the president’s impeachment in the council. The government’s heels were on fire, trying to get past the citizen and council’s criticisms.

There was no one to lean on except for Black Mamba. The Ruman plan had been an impossible plan with Black Mamba in consideration since the beginning. The rushed plan had been organized weakly. Fortunately, the situation, in which they’d have no comeback against Black Mamba’s disagreement, had been resolved. Bonipas wanted to cheer.

[1] An artificial mound formed with accumulated remains.

[2] “Good!”