‘They probably were,’ Hansard agreed. ‘The problem was, everyone knew about it. And for a covert unit that does questionable work for the government, that’s really not good. So, we disbanded and had a quiet couple of years. Time to reflect, so to speak.’ Hansard watched Kowalski’s face for a reaction. There was none; he had come a long way in just four short years, it seemed. ‘But the need for such a unit was still there, and on an even wider scale. And so I was asked to establish the SRG back in 2003, to carry on that necessary work. I was of course interested in you then; but I felt that you could do with a bit of maturing.’
Kowalski was not offended by the suggestion; looking back now, he could see how impetuous he had been. He realized now the danger of such behaviour and, although the desire for action was still there, his immense personal discipline now kept it very much in check.
‘Do you have any issues with the work that the ISA or Grey Fox was involved with?’ Hansard asked him directly.
‘No,’ Kowalski answered without a pause. Why would I? he wondered silently. The unit performed work that the American government deemed was necessary for the safety of the country; DEVGRU did pretty much the same thing, Kowalski figured. To some, the methods may have been questionable, but Kowalski was a firm believer of the ends justifying the means.
‘Good,’ Hansard said, standing and offering his hand. ‘Welcome to the unit.’ And that was it.
33
Only a couple of hours after losing the agents at the mall, Sarah and her family were making their way down I-87 towards Louisiana, and Louis Armstrong International Airport, from where they would catch the 19:15 flight to Munich.
The mood in the car was jovial. After they had gone up three flights of steps back in the Miami apartment block, Sarah had taken them through a service door and into a brightly-lit corridor.
The group had then entered Apartment 1209, where they had all had the chance to get washed and changed into new clothes. For added fun, they had all dyed their hair too, and Amy had been particularly happy with her new blond locks.
The apartment was owned by Mark Cole, who had bought it some time ago as part of the intricate escape plan he had developed for his family. It had taken him a while to find such a location — with service doors backing onto those of the huge neighbouring mall — but he had eventually managed it. He had also put in the remote-controlled door, and had it checked periodically.
And when the happy party were ready, the Ford 4 × 4 with blacked-out windows they found in the secure underground parking garage was also owned by Cole, who had thoughtfully placed the keys in a drawer in the apartment kitchen.
As they drove along the parched concrete of the interstate, Sarah finally began to relax, at least a little. After all, they’d done it; they’d finally managed to get rid of their pursuers, and would be in Europe by early morning.
And soon after that, she hoped above all else, her family would be reunited.
34
The collision was inevitable. The expressway southwest to Reims that Cole had wanted to use had been closed due to a large-scale accident caused by the horrendous weather, and so he had been forced to go straight down along the A16 to Paris. He now planned to skirt around the city and take the E54 out east on his way towards the German border crossing near Strasbourg.
But by the time Cole had got to D104 eastern ring road towards Attainville just to the north of the city, the weather was so bad that visibility was limited to mere inches, the ice on the road making progress even more treacherous.
Cole barely had time to turn the wheel when he saw the muted glare of headlights swiftly approaching from the side, out of a concealed entry road. The lights were swinging wildly from side to side, and in the instant before impact, Cole understood that the car must have lost control coming down the hill, picking up speed as it careered forward on the ice.
Cole managed to turn the steering wheel just in time to angle the car so that the brunt of the impact was taken on the rear end. Because he had a few precious instants to prepare, the collision didn’t shake him as much as it might have done. The icy conditions were merciless, however, and Cole felt his own vehicle start to spin wildly. He tried desperately to correct the wheel, but it was no good, and less than two seconds after the initial crash, the Citroen was straddling the opposite lane of the highway.
Cole had no time to prepare for the impact of the second vehicle as it ploughed straight into him; he merely felt the car roll, and then everything went blank.
35
Sarah, Ben and Amy arrived at Louis Armstrong International fresh and ready for their ‘holiday’. Sarah had been telling her children all about Europe during the car journey, and they were excited to see Germany.
Sarah had been born and brought up in New York, sometimes in the city but mainly at her father’s huge estate in the Catskills, and she had travelled widely across Europe in her youth. As a teenager she had gone backpacking with two of her girlfriends, visiting most of the continent’s capital cities, and had soaked up everything she could of their history and culture.
Although dangerous, travelling around Europe hadn’t worried her; she had been brought up to be self-reliant, and was more than capable of handling herself. Some parents would have balked at letting their daughter travel unprotected around Europe; Sarah’s father hadn’t really cared. Indeed, since the death of her mother, he hadn’t really cared about anything.
She sometimes reflected if his apathy was what let her leave her old family behind so easily, to live with Mark in the Caymans.
She accepted Mark’s way of life without question, and she realized that this would have seemed strange to many women. After all, it wasn’t until they were engaged that he had confided in her his real name, his real history, and his real job.
They had met at a dive centre in Cyprus, and the attraction had been instant. She was an instructor at the centre, and he was there on holiday, although it turned out he was an instructor too. It wasn’t until later that she found out that he had really been there recovering after plastic surgery, the final step of his transformation from Mark Kowalski — a Navy SEAL from Hamtramck, Michigan declared Killed in Action two years after being seconded to the secretive Systems Research Group — to Mark Cole — apparently a professional diving instructor from Phoenix, Arizona but who was really a covert agent for the US government known only as ‘the asset’.
She had been shocked initially, of course, but the truth was that Mark’s background excited her. She was a woman who loved adventure, and hated boredom — and Mark’s life, a life that he let her into and share, was anything but boring.
And, she figured, what he did now was no different from what anyone else did in the military — they followed orders sent down to them by politicians, for the good of the country.
She had been scared by the recent events, that much was true; but Mark’s training and his well-laid plans had worked, and now they would soon be in the air, on their way to their rendezvous.
She was confident her husband would meet them there.
36
Cole couldn’t see, but he could hear voices; first as if far away, or maybe underwater, but gradually becoming clearer. Eventually, he could make out the words. French. He concentrated harder to understand.
‘No, he’s unconscious,’ said one of the voices. There was a pause, as if the man was listening to a reply, indicating the conversation was via telephone, and it was long enough for Cole to remember everything. There’d been a crash; his car had been blasted across the highway, rolling onto its roof and back again. He had lost consciousness soon after, and had no idea how long he’d been out. Given the conditions, it would have taken the emergency services a considerable amount of time to attend the scene. He might have been in the car for hours even.