They ran in silence, and she pushed herself as hard as she could, flying faster than she ever had before. The pure adrenaline burst from the unexpected news propelled her all the way back to her apartment complex.
When they walked up to her building, her stomach dropped. The doors of a dark sedan parked out front opened, and two Arlington PD detectives stepped out to greet her.
Layla had been called to an offsite DEA meeting at Mason’s condo. With each passing minute, she was becoming more convinced that they were caught up in something bigger than the one op they’d performed in Honduras.
Hunter was even more on edge than usual as they walked up to Mason’s front door. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I’m wondering if there’s a possibility that the Honduras op was unsanctioned. Why not meet at HQ in Pentagon City?”
“An off-book op?” That thought hadn’t even occurred to her.
“Yeah, as in someone wanted it to happen, but it didn’t go through the proper chain of command.”
“I guess that’s one thing to put on the table.”
She rang the doorbell, and Mason opened the door. The tall, brown-haired supervisory agent greeted her warmly. “Come on in, both of you. The whole gang is here. We need to talk.”
“Why meet here?” she asked, unable to help herself.
“I’ll explain.” He turned to her. “And I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Thanks.”
They were led into Mason’s large living room, where Zane and Cass sat in two navy blue chairs.
“All right.” Mason remained standing as Layla and Hunter took seats on the couch. “It’s time to read everyone into the bigger picture here.”
“There’s a bigger picture? I don’t like the sound of that,” Zane said.
Mason nodded. “I have kept you all in the dark, but I had my reasons. The Honduras op was only one small piece of a larger DEA covert operation to try to take down the Mejía cartel.”
“And why didn’t we know about the rest of the plan?” Cass asked. “We all risked our lives down there.”
Mason lifted his hands. “If I need to leave for a minute and let all of you trash-talk me so we can get down to business, let me know.”
There wasn’t an ounce of humor in Mason’s suggestion. Layla kept her mouth shut, but Zane didn’t.
“We have a right to be angry, but we also need to get to the information, since we are the targets here. So please continue.”
Mason crossed his arms. “The plan against Mejía is totally need-to-know. We have multiple operations running, and no one on those assignments knows about the bigger picture. Leadership made that decision to decrease the chances of leaks and to give ourselves the best chance of disrupting and ultimately destroying the network.”
Layla still felt unclear. “How does this fit together with the current threat assessment?”
“We’ve believed for some time that someone at the DEA is working with Mejía, but because of the larger plan, we have to be extremely careful about how we handle the insider. If we can continue to keep things compartmentalized, then we can feed information to each team and determine who might be the traitor. Also, a new development I want everyone to be aware of is that we haven’t determined for certain but believe one surveillance camera got missed in the chaos at the Mejía safe house, and that’s how you all got identified.”
Layla was quickly processing everything he was saying. “And maybe Zane wasn’t caught on that footage?”
“That’s our current theory,” Mason said. “We also don’t know why Cass’s situation was a break-in instead of a hit job, but we have to assume all of you are in danger.” He looked away and then made direct eye contact with Layla. “And, unfortunately, there’s more bad news.”
“What?” she asked.
“The Agency is being cagey about you, Layla. I couldn’t get a word out of them on this supposed investigation they’re conducting, and I’m going to be totally frank here. I got the sense that they’re trying to disassociate themselves from you.”
She’d had the same feeling. “I know, but I have no idea why. I guess the cartel could be linked to that, too, but then again, if they’re trying to kill me, why go through the trouble of cooking up something with the IG’s office?”
Hunter cleared his throat. “Regardless, Layla is a prime target here. I hope the DEA isn’t going to throw her to the curb like CIA has.”
“No. At least not if I have anything to do with it,” Mason answered. “Layla was a key part of this entire operation and the success we had. I don’t know what kind of games Langley is playing, but we want no part in it. However we can help, we will, and that includes you, Hunter, providing her with personal protection.”
Hunter laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Mason asked.
Hunter looked at her. “Layla’s the one who saved me from getting shot, but yes, I’m here to do whatever I can.”
Layla was thankful again that her training had kicked in yesterday, and as a result, they both got away relatively unscathed. “You know that the Agency stripped me of my passport and wants me to stay in town.”
“You could defy them,” Cass suggested. “Go off the grid. We could help you.”
“To what end? I can’t hide forever.” Frustration was building up inside her. “And I’ve got Agency security detail posted at my condo, watching my coming and going. Feels more like surveillance than security, but at least it’s something.”
Mason finally took a seat. “I get that this situation is far from ideal, but all we can do is take it one step at a time. We’re investigating Diaz’s death as hard as we can. We’re putting resources behind this thing. If anyone wants a DEA safe house, just say the word. All options are
