Cole remembered their first meeting, back when he had been Ensign Mark Kowalski with SEAL Team Two during the long, hot summer of 2003 in Iraq. It was only a year after he had fought in the caves of Afghanistan, but he didn’t mind; he loved the action. There was always the fear, of course, but he knew that if he could persevere through the fear, there would be the glorious reward of the supercharged adrenal surge at the other end. Kowalski had learnt early on that there was no more powerful a drug than the adrenaline hit brought on by a real-life fire-fight, with trained men shooting at you, whilst you tried to shoot back. It made everything so clear — movements, sounds, the feel of the air on your skin, the flow of blood pumping around your body — and it was unlike any other feeling Kowalski had ever experienced. The truth of the matter was that he only felt truly alive when his life was in danger. It was a truth that Mr Hansard, as he introduced himself, saw immediately.
Mr Hansard was waiting for him in the operations tent when Kowalski returned from a reconnaissance patrol. The interview took place before he had even had the chance to shed his equipment. As soon as Kowalski entered, the man was on his feet, extending a hand. ‘Ensign Kowalski, I presume?’ the tall, slim man said in a polished, almost seductive tone. As Kowalski took the hand and shook, the stranger continued. ‘My name is Mr Hansard. Sorry for the intrusion, but I would like to have a little talk with you.’
Kowalski looked around the room. Nobody else was there, which told him something; the operations tent was the nerve centre of the troop and was normally a hive of activity. Whoever this man was, he was someone important. Hansard … Kowalski’s mind wandered. He knew the name from somewhere, and it wasn’t long before he made the connection. The dark wood cane leaning against the side of the chair helped the matter. Charles Hansard, a big wig from the DIA. A war hero and a special ops legend. What the Hell does he want with me? Kowalski wondered.
The Systems Research Group was never mentioned, and Mr Hansard never even indicated that he was setting up a new, ultra-covert military action cell. All the questions came from the DIA officer, and Kowalski answered them as honestly as he could. It was clear that the older man was recruiting, but for what, he didn’t say. The interview went well, Cole remembered, but it was such a strange situation that in some ways it felt like no more than a dream.
At the end of the meeting, Hansard had stood, shaken hands with the American commando, and announced that he would be in touch. He kept his word, although it was four more years before the men spoke again.
31
The problem, Hansard remembered, was that at the time, Kowalski was something of an adrenaline junkie. The commendations, awards and medals — including a Bronze Star, Purple Heart with cluster, and the Navy Cross, a line-up that made him one of the most decorated men serving in the military at the time — that had looked so impressive in his personnel file, were merely the result of Kowalski’s impetuous desire to be in the thick of the action. Some people called it ‘courage under fire’, and Hansard did indeed find the man’s achievements impressive, but the new head of the SRG had decided, in the end, that such a man would be a liability in the field.
It was a further sad fact that Kowalski had almost been demoted after breaking the jaw of a four-stripe Navy Captain, almost losing his hard-won commission only months after his graduation as an officer.
Kowalski’s unit had been leaving a ‘hot’ beach in Libya, chased by Gaddafi’s Revolutionary Guard, and the submarine they had been expecting to extract them one kilometre off-shore had pulled back two further kilometres due to the Captain’s concerns over the safety of his ship. The extra distance had caused two of the team’s wounded men to die, and Kowalski had to drag the lifeless body of one of them almost a mile through the powerful current of the Red Sea.
Once aboard the sub, he had lost no time in finding the Captain and punching him straight on the jaw. He would have done more, Hansard heard, had he not been restrained by his team-mates.
It wasn’t that Hansard blamed the man per se; Heavens knew, the Captain deserved it for his cowardice. But it showed a streak of impetuousness that would be dangerous for an SRG operator. Indeed, Kowalski might have been thrown out of the Navy altogether had it not been for his incredible service record.
Hansard had kept a close eye on Mark Kowalski, however, watching as he made Lieutenant — presumably his previous transgression against the submarine commander had been forgiven — and then as he passed selection for the SEAL’s own elite DEVGRU unit, known more famously as SEAL Team Six, and started the arduous training programme for that specialist group. According to Hansard’s sources, Kowalski had exceeded all expectations in training, and was deemed by his instructors to be a natural counter-terrorism soldier. One of his greatest attributes, reputedly, was his patience. Hansard remembered being surprised to hear this particular comment, and made a note to monitor Kowalski’s first few jobs for the DEVGRU in order to see just how far the lad had come on. Although the SRG was a small group — and still a well-kept secret — there was always room for the right sort of person. And Hansard was finally coming round to the decision that Kowalski was the right sort of person.
It wasn’t long after training that Kowalski was once again tested in the field, as his Team Six was sent straight to Iraq to make up Task Force Blue, responsible for hunting down the Al’Queda high-command in the western provinces, including regular incursions into Iran.
What impressed Hansard about the operation wasn’t so much the fact that it harmed Al’Queda — he knew they would replace their lost leadership soon enough — it was the fact that the unit had never been seen or discovered, even though it moved throughout a dangerous area, in which allied forces should never have been in the first place. Which meant that Kowalski had kept his cool.
It seemed, for whatever reason, that Kowalski had developed into the man Hansard had been looking for. It was time to meet with him again.
32
The call came as a surprise to Kowalski; so much had happened since that strange meeting two years previously that he had all but forgotten Hansard and the mystery job.
He had been at home in Dam Neck, Virginia with Claire, his first wife, when the call came. Things hadn’t been good between them lately — Kowalski had been away too often, either training or on operations, and his wife had simply grown tired of being alone — and she had just started another argument when the phone went. Glad of the interruption, Kowalski had picked it up straight away.
The conversation was short, merely inviting Kowalski to meet with him the next day in Washington. There was no question of not going; he was curious about why Hansard should contact him now, after never getting back to him before. Besides which, it would give him a reason to be out of the house.
The meeting was shorter this time. Kowalski could tell Hansard had already made his mind up, and the ‘interview’ was a mere formality. It soon became apparent that that was indeed the case.
‘What do you know about a covert cell known as the Systems Research Group?’ Hansard asked.
Kowalski shook his head. ‘Systems Research Group? Never heard of it.’
Hansard smiled. ‘I should hope not. It doesn’t officially exist as such, you see. Are you familiar with the Intelligence Support Activity or Grey Fox?’
‘Oh, yeah,’ Kowalski answered. ‘I even know a few guys who served in those units, met them on joint exercises. Good men,’ he added.