He turned his attention back to the road. They couldn’t take any chances at this point. “Based on what you’re telling me, the only people we can trust are the four of us. How could the cartel have found out our team’s identity? As long as that’s an open question, we have to keep this circle tight.”

“I called Mason and told him what happened to me, but he doesn’t know about anything else, I don’t think.”

Mason Gray was their boss at the DEA. “We should let him know about Layla. If it was just one of us being targeted, we could envision some other explanation, but with both of you attacked within such a short time period, we have to operate under the assumption that it’s all tied together.”

“But you still don’t trust Mason?”

“I don’t want to think we can’t, but we have to be cautious. Right now, though, we can’t keep him iced out on the basic facts because we need his help. Did Layla think you were on the right track?”

“Yes, she was concerned. But it seemed like there was more going on that she didn’t want to talk about.”

Zane huffed. “Well, that’s typical CIA. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Agency messed this up somehow.”

Cass was silent for a moment, clearly thinking. “Layla’s not even a field officer—not by design anyway. She’s an analyst who has done some limited fieldwork.”

“Yeah, but she did well on the op.” Zane glanced at her, wondering where she was going with this. “We had no issues with her performance.”

“I’m not questioning her skill. I’m thinking that it’s even more disturbing that someone could have found her out, given her lack of fieldwork. You and I are out there all the time. So is Diaz. That isn’t the case with Layla.” She turned and looked over her shoulder.

“You see anything?” he asked.

“All clear so far.”

They rode in silence the rest of the way to Diaz’s house, but even in the quiet, Zane knew the two of them were in work mode. This wasn’t a leisurely weekend afternoon drive.

Cass looked down at her watch. “Diaz always goes to Sunday service, but it’s almost two. He should be done by now.”

“I talked to him late last night, and everything was good.”

“Let’s find out.”

Zane stopped the car, and the two of them walked up the driveway and onto Diaz’s front porch.

“Zane.” Cass pointed to the front door, which was slightly open.

Zane pulled out his Glock, and Cass followed suit. “On me,” Zane said.