Mercenary Black Mamba

Ubiksa's fighting style was similar to that of an army ant. Dorylus soldier ants (African army ants) differ in size and shape compared to other equivalent groups. The bigger one could be 25mm while the smaller one could be 5mm. When they meet a big enemy, the small group grabs the enemy's foot as a flock and hangs down or digs into the nostrils and eyes, whereas the bigger soldier cuts off the muscles with his claws. If the small one is an infantryman, the big one is an artilleryman.

Ubiksa also demonstrated systemic cooperation like Dorylus. Thus, the more the number increased, the more potent they became. If they were two, it would be equal to Woo-Hyun, and if they were three, Woo-Hyun would lose the battle. Ten of them were also difficult for Samdi. In other words, Ubiksa was more dangerous than predators.

"Should I thresh after a long time?"

Rakshasa pulled the handle. The devil that was asleep in the backpack was released. A huge whip also came out. There was no weapon like Rakshasa's to beat soldier ants stayed in a cave.

"Ha! What's this?"

Black Mamba, who was trying to jump into the station, flinched. He had a strange feeling of incompatibility. Its feeling was similar to when he faced the group of locusts in the Sahel. Of course, there were no locusts in the jungle of Ituri. There were too many enemies, unlike deserts.

Something like a huge thing approached quickly from far up. It gave the pressure so hard that it could crush the temple. He looked up at the sky with the Rule of Sight.

"What is it?"

A fireball appeared 20 Km from above the sky. It was not one. One after the other appeared like a string of beads. They were coming at a terrific speed. It expended like a wheel in a second.

"Ha! No way?"

The fireball spun furiously. Whether Black Mamba's face was good or bad, the fireball fell at Mach 3.5 speed. It was the beginning of an apocalyptic rupture.

"ATACMS! Why is that?"

Black Mamba's face was rotten and tarnished. ATACMS was the newest missile that had not been deployed on the U.S. mainland bases. It was not a thing that would appear in the wild of Africa.

He postponed thinking about the question later. He swung the Gongjinpa with all his power. ATACMS couldn't compare with any bombs. He couldn't guess what the ammunition components were, but ATACMS was the worst ground-to-ground missile that shot up to 950 shells per shot. Even if there was Epidium biuret's grandfather, no one could endure that heavy rain and storms.

Rakshasa dug diagonally into the ground. A 12 m drill was dug into a 600mm diameter hole with a sonic sound. It was like a TBM (Tunnel boring machine).

Bam! The first missile burst. The small fireballs popped out like a firecracker. The night sky turned red with a series of explosions. Thousands of 210g of bomblet units fell to the ground. It made a spectacular view to be nicknamed a steel rainstorm. Of course, it was a curse for the enemy.

"Oh my god!"

Black Mamba jumped into the hole like a crazy bull. If he didn't make it, the 4,000 bombs would attack him. The bomb sound rang endlessly. A firestorm swept the ground. All the rocks and trees were smashed and scattered, turning into ashes.

The heat pushed Black Mamba more deeply into the underground. The booming sounds rang continuously and the ground wobbled. The power of ATACMS was incredible just like the rumor. The RPG7's converging fire at the Sahel was incommensurable.

"I'll find out a guy who played this fire. I'll show you what a true firestorm is."

Black Mamba gritted his teeth and rubbed his burning back. If he was a little late, it would possibly turn him into ashes. Sometimes, the U.S. committed outrageous things, but ATACMS was not unexpected. However, it was not a thing to say from Black Mamba, who changed the Caparuza landscape with a huge fire play.

"Wait, is No. 10 safe?"

He was worried. The underground would be over if ATACMS were filled with GBU-37(Bunker busters). He had to go directly into the U.S. military camp if he lost No. 10.

"It will be good if he is alive. It would be okay if he is dead."

Black Mamba shook away as usual. There would be more trouble if one worries about unforeseen concerns.

******

The reason why the U.S. military prosecuted the impractical plan to throw ATACMS was because of the meeting that happened a week before when the steel rainstorm hit Black Mamba.

At Los Alamo's underground base law enforcement office, Davis was frowning. The problem was that the ATACMS and Striker solidarity were requested by the camp. Stupid McKinley messed up the work and Brigadier General Dyson turned the jungle of Ituri into a bloodbath.

"What do you want William to do?"

William, the committee's military adviser, was the Freemason master and the hands and feet of Chairman Ian in the White House.

"We need to reinforce the net before it tears. Dyson's style is ignorant, but it may be worth considering. It's hard to catch a sneaky Ubiksa with a powerful predator. I heard that even Japanese ninjas are causing trouble."

William gave a flat reply.

"Nevertheless, will the Striker Regiment seal the perimeter and destroy the hiding area with ground-to-ground missiles? What about international criticism?"

"What's wrong with the world's executioner? That was what the Grandmaster wanted. He said that there would be no problem collecting Oparts even if the crust is up and down."

"It's a comprehensive approved project, but sending regimental level troops overseas still needs assembly's approval. It's embarrassing for Reagan to go to the Congress and insist it's an emergency."

"There is a massive battle involving helicopters attack and missiles out there. If this isn't an emergency, when is the emergency?"

William, the best hawk of the hawk, always insisted on a tougher method.

"There's nothing good about being loud. When the project is revealed, the media comes in... I don't want to recreate the MK project situation again."

David shook his head. Apologizing in front of dozens of microphones and testifying in the Senate? It was terrible to think about it.

"That's why we invited Senate Armed Services Committee Chairman Greg Zimmer. All you have to do is convince your old folks. By the way, did Mr.Lamartin also believe in ancient civilizations 150 million years ago?"

"Of course. The theory that Homo Sapien's history has been only tens of thousands of years doesn't make sense. Tens of thousands of years seem long, but it's too short of a time for human-level creatures to be created. It's at least 10 million years according to the analyzed junk genome."

"If you say so, so be it. Either Evolution or creationism is an overwhelming debate for me. It's about time for the old folks to arrive. Are you ready for the presentation?"

William waved his hand.

"It's not a presentation but an incident report. I don't feel I want to do it, but it can't be helped to get a corporation."

"You don't have to make them understand. Politicians don't want to understand anything naturally. Just as Henry Davis is not a time instructor, Greg Zimmer is not a student. If it doesn't work, drag him into our organization."

As usual, William's response was firm.

"I'll try to make it happen. Even now, so many young folks are bleeding in the uncivilized land. I cannot imagine how many young people will sacrifice in the future... I feel so bad."

Davis looked sad like a father who couldn't serve a roasted turkey on Christmas Eve.

"Holy!"

William kicked his tongue. Davis had cold-blooded and ready to pull tears from others at any time. He couldn't believe he was sad because of the loss of lives. Moreover, of the 7,560 deaths in Mambasa, only 560 were Americans. The other 7,000 were not even human.

"You were right enough. I found a lithium mine, a clue to ancient fusion, a substance no one has ever thought of. It is not a big deal, not like the mistakes that others make. We still have a lot of time. Whether you burn the jungle of Ituri or dry it, you just have to retrieve it."

"Thank you, let's go and meet the man who will hold a club in our hands."

Davis laughed. Since he earned the cold-hearted William's heart, this was good for him.

******

The northern highlands of Los Almos was densely populated with leisure facilities such as ski resorts and golf courses, and the vast Los Alamos National Laboratory was located in the South.

Senator Greg Zimmer, enjoying golf in Jemez, was willing to accept the invitation. It was obvious that Ian and Davis would tell a wistful saying. It was either the Middle East oil problem or the construction of nuclear power plants. He was willing to listen to what they said as much as possible, considering the sincerity of sending a dedicated helicopter.

Beyond the windshield of the helicopter, Trinity site, a little boy experimental site, was shown.

"It's the core!" he mumbled.

Unless the Soviet Union stays strong and China wouldn't divide, the United States continues to produce nuclear weapons. It is an endless chicken game, but the winner of the game is decided. The military power that doesn't have economic support is just a tree without roots. In that respect, the potential risk is higher in Japan.

"Stupid Truman!"

He closed his eyes. A nuclear-armed Japan was in front of him.

"Gentleman, thank you for coming."

Davis, who came to welcome him to the helicopter landing site, smiled.

"Oh, Davis, how long has it been?"

Zimmer was delighted. The person whom executive officer Davis was going to welcome would be top five ranked.

"You are the same as usual."

"Don't flatter me. I have gout and blurry vision time by time. To put it in an oriental way, I've stepped a foot into the Jordan River. You're still fresh. What's your secret?"

"No way. I haven't gotten sleep for more than two months."

"Well... I'm a little nervous about the story that is going to be told to me. It must be a hot potato. You're definitely more of a politician than a physicist."

Zimmer hugged David's shoulders. Zimmer majored in politics and Davis majored in particle physics. Davis was 15 year Princeton alumnus.

Zimmer always felt sorry for Davis. When Davis, who was expected to win the Nobel Prize in Physics, denied Princeton life-long professor and entered the administration. Everyone, including Zimmer, thought he was irrational and made an impulsive choice.

Davis was bald and looked like a rat. Although his appearance was not fit in with politicians, he worked well as a Physicist and Politician once he became the head of the Los Alamos Institution. As Oppenheimer did, an outstanding physicist could only be political.

"Davis, will you ask to raise the committee's budget, won't you? The superconducting particle accelerator moved to the next government. It doesn't make sense to drill 30 Km through a tunnel to find some grains you can't even see with an electron microscope. The Los Alamos budget is $1.5 billion and the Commission budget is $3 billion."

Zimmer defended in advance.

"I'm the only one who needs to cry. I work with worse things than the budget. Hahaha!"

Davis laughed. Today's topic was not related to the budget.

"Don't make a dull joke. These days, just looking at the eagle's head on the cover of the research team's report caused me convulsion. If you combine the budget of the U.S. and China research teams, you'll buy the Soviet Union. By the way, I'm sick of these machines."

Zimmer was annoyed as he passed through the optical screener and an iris recognizer.

"A 150-million years ago ancient fusion reactor? Davis, either my ears are wrong, or did you put hashish in my coffee?"

Zimmer's eyes gazed at Ian and stayed on Davis's face. He was like an American football player who was intercepted just before a touchdown in the Super Bowl final.

"Senator, I'm small. My liver is small and my balls are small too. I can't recommend drugs to the Senate Armed Services Committee chairman. The ongoing nuclear fusion reactor research is a waste of time. It is impossible to use in the next generation. The Tokamak is worth nothing more than a museum display, and the inertial trap-machine became meaningless for a while."

Davis understood his reaction of Zimmer. Zimmer was not Freemason. When one gets old, your brain cells harden, making it difficult to accept new information.

"To tell the truth, you must get drunk on cocaine. Tell Reagan that, too. Hahaha!"

Zimmer chuckled.

"That's why I'm holding a dead ball. Gentleman can pull you out of the mire, but Reagan will be kicked and dropped."

"It's worth kicking," Zimmer replied with a wry look.

The study of a nuclear fusion reactor had long been a money-eating hippopotamus. To be exact, it was becoming more like NASA. NASA was a crazy group that poured billions of dollars into bringing a rock to Mars, which was not as good as McDonald's hamburger.

"I might push you to the cliff, too. NASA showed me at least the moonstone, but the committee couldn't turn on a single light. Try to convince me."

Zimmer leaned back. Davis was willing to accept abusive and realistic complaints. The number of senators who looked on the Socrates project outnumbered the number of Oprah Winfrey's show cast members.

Even if one is trying hard, it looks like wasting of time; at least one gets something as a result. There was nothing new to be desired. Davis gave up on convincing him. Zimmer was a devout Catholic. It had been over a thousand years since Catholicism became enmity with Freemasons.

Launch ATACMS from the top spin shoots.