Jenna’s Protector (Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists: CHARLIE Team #4)

13. Carter

THIRTEEN

Carter

Jenna and I fumble with our seatbelts, our hands tangling, heads knocking, as we both twist at the same time to buckle in. She laughs, and warmth rushes through me. We eventually figure it out, which is good.

Blake sucks as a driver, accelerating and powering around curves like he’s a damn racecar driver, but it’s still just a golf cart—with seatbelts.

Who puts seatbelts in golf carts?

The golf cart hums beneath us as Blake navigates the compound’s winding paths. The air is filled with scents—the salty tang of the nearby ocean, the crisp smell of freshly cut grass, and an underlying hint of machine oil and electronics.

As we round a corner, a massive structure comes into view. Its mirrored surface reflects the blue sky and fluffy white clouds. The building hums with energy, a tangible sense of innovation.

“Over there is the tech center,” Blake announces, his voice brimming with pride. “It’s the heart of our operation. Mitzy, our technical lead, is a genius. She’s developed some incredible AI and robotics that have revolutionized our work. Our HUDs displays are freakin’ next level. ”

“HUD?” Jenna looks at me. “What’s that?”

“Heads Up Display,” Blake answers swiftly. “It lets us see in different wavelengths. Night vision, infrared, visual spectrum—obviously. Our tech team feeds us intel.”

As Blake continues explaining HUDs and drones, Jenna’s excitement grows. Her body tenses with interest beside me, her hand squeezing mine tighter with each new revelation. The warmth of her touch sends a pleasant tingle up my arm.

“What kind of intel?” Jenna’s curious, something else I love about her.

“Maps. Like if we have to hump it overground, they send us a terrain map. If we’re rescuing hostages in a building, we have the schematics. Just makes life that much easier. But that’s not the best of the tech we get to play with. In addition to that, we have access to a VR environment to plan missions. There’s an entire town in the back quarter we use for training. And, of course, there are Mitzy’s drones.”

“Drones? What do you use those for?” Jenna’s eyes widen with curiosity.

I love Jenna’s questions. She’s asking everything I want to know, which means I don’t have to look like an idiot to my brother for not knowing any of this shit.

“There’s Smaug , of course. It’s a high-altitude drone that helps with mapping and other intel. Then, we have dragonflies and bumble bees. They are smaller drones that help when we need to map out where we’re going, identify hostiles, find alternate routes, all the things.”

“That’s insane.” Jenna reaches for my hand and squeezes it tight. “Must be fun to operate them.”

“We have techies who do just that, but the bumblebees are autonomous.”

“Autonomous? What does that mean?” Jenna’s questions keep coming.

“They don’t need a human at the wheel. Mitzy and her team are pioneers in AI and robotics. ”

“That’s hard to wrap my head around.” Jenna leans forward, her interest piqued.

“I keep telling Carter we’ve got some pretty cool toys.” Blake grins and reaches out to scratch Max. “We even have robotic dogs.”

Suddenly, a sleek, black, four-footed form emerges from the tech center. It moves with an eerie grace, each step precise and calculated. Max’s ears perk up; his tail wags uncertainly.

“Meet Rufus, one of the Rufi.”

“Rufus?” Jenna asks.

“Robotic Ultra-Functional Utility Specialist—aka RUFUS.” Blake makes a sweeping gesture with his arm and pulls to a stop.

We all climb out of the cart, watching Max cautiously approach the RUFUS. The contrast between them is striking—Max’s soft fur and organic movements against RUFUS’s smooth metal exterior and eerily lifelike motions.

Max circles the RUFUS, sniffing curiously. The RUFUS, in turn, tilts its head, cameras whirring as it processes the living canine before it. Suddenly, the RUFUS emits a series of beeps that sound remarkably like a playful bark. Max’s tail begins to wag more enthusiastically.

To our amazement, the RUFUS drops on its front legs while its rear remains raised. It’s rear end even wiggles.

Max, recognizing the universal dog language, responds in kind. Before we know it, the two are engaged in a game of chase, circling the cart and darting between our legs.

The sound of Max’s excited barks mingles with RUFUS’s electronic yips, creating a weird blend of man’s best friend meeting machine’s best approximation.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” I mutter, watching the unlikely pair play.

Jenna laughs, the sound light and carefree. “It’s like watching the past and future of canine companionship collide.”

“The Rufi are invaluable in the field,” Blake says. “When there’s more than one of them, we call them Rufi. Mitzy hates that. We’re supposed to say Rufuses , but that’s a mouthful. We’ve recently begun integrating the Rufi into the team, partnering each two-man pair with a Rufi. ”

“They seem to be getting along.” Jenna laughs, the sound warm and rich.

“Like two peas in a pod. Come on, Max. Time to go.” Blake pats the seat next to him. Max leaves the Rufus, and Blake steers the cart onward. “Over there is the medical facility, run by Skye Summers, a brilliant doc and co-founder of Guardian HRS with her brother, Forest.”

“Impressive,” I murmur, taking in the state-of-the-art building.

As we continue the tour, Blake points out the various training facilities—the gym complex with its towering rock wall, the shooting ranges designed for every scenario imaginable, and the mock town used for urban combat simulations.

“You’ve really thought of everything,” Jenna says, her voice filled with admiration.

“We have to be prepared for anything.” Blake shrugs, but pride fills his expression. “Our missions have high stakes, and we can’t afford to be caught off guard.”

“There’s a lot more to see and other cool stuff I want to show you, but…” We stop at a cafeteria, the smell of food wafting through the air. “I thought you might be hungry.” Blake hops out of the cart. “Or, at least, I am. The food here is top-notch. Our chefs are world-class.”

As we enter the cafeteria, I’m struck by the variety of options—everything from classic comfort foods to exotic, international dishes. Despite our recent meal, Jenna and I load up our plates and find a table. Max curls up at our feet.

“So, what do you think?” Blake asks, his eyes flicking between Jenna and me.

“I had no idea the scale of what you were doing here.” I shake my head in wonder.

“We’re making a real difference,” Blake says, his voice serious. “The work we do… It matters. We’re saving lives, bringing people home to their families. Right now, my team is involved in tracking down a major organization involved in some bad shit.”

“It’s amazing what you’ve built here.” Jenna nods, her expression thoughtful. “The resources, the technology… It’s like something out of a science fiction movie.”

Blake beams with pride. “Just wait until you see what else we’ve got. This is only the beginning, and we’re always looking for talent to join the team.” He shoots me a pointed look.

“Blake…” I start, but he waves me off.

“I know, I know. You’re happy being a detective, but we could use someone like you.”

My mind whirls with possibilities. The thought of working alongside Blake and accessing these incredible resources is tempting, but I have a duty to my community and the missing girls I’ve sworn to find.

As if sensing my inner turmoil, Jenna squeezes my hand. I meet her gaze, seeing the warmth and understanding in her eyes.

Sitting in the cafeteria, the conversation shifts to Blake’s recent missions. He leans back in his chair, a glint in his eye as he regales us with tales of high-stake rescues and narrow escapes.

“You should have seen it,” Blake says, his voice filled with excitement. “At Citadel, we were outnumbered, outgunned, but we managed to get the hostages out safely. It was a thing of beauty.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “You always did have a flair for the dramatic.”

“What can I say? It’s a gift.” Blake grins, but then his expression turns serious. “But it’s not all fun and games. We’ve been tracking an organization that’s proved to be a real thorn in our side.”

I glance over at Jenna, trying to gauge how overwhelmed she might feel. It’s been a big day, and I’ve yet to tell Blake why we’re here. I’m hoping he might be able to get one of the tech geeks to take on a side project for my case.

Blake continues, his voice low and intense. “This is the only thing we have on them. It’s a symbol, really—Chinese.” He pulls out a pen, scribbling something on a napkin—哨兵. “Isn’t that weird?”

Jenna goes rigid beside me as he slides the napkin across the table. Her face drains of color, and her breathing turns shallow and rapid .

“ Shàobīng ,” Jenna whispers, her voice trembling. “It means Sentinel.”

The cafeteria seems to disappear, the background noise fading as I turn to Jenna. “Have you seen this symbol before?” I ask softly, dread creeping into my voice.

Jenna nods, her eyes filling with tears. “Yes. When I was… When I was taken, the man who bought me had a tattoo on his wrist. It was that symbol. And he…” She trails off, absently rubbing her wrist as if trying to erase an invisible mark.

I notice her action, my eyes drawn to her wrist. In the cafeteria’s harsh fluorescent light, I can make out faint, barely perceptible markings on her skin. Before I can ask about it, Jenna reaches for her bag. Her hands shake as she pulls out her sketchpad, flipping through pages urgently. The rustling paper fills the tense silence. Finally, she stops, laying the pad flat on the table.

A Chinese symbol is there, rendered in harsh, angry strokes of black. It dominates the center of the page, surrounded by jagged lines that pulse with danger and fear. The drawing is raw and visceral, a visual representation of the trauma Jenna endured.

“Holy fuck.” Blake leans in, his face a mask of shock and dawning realization. “Do you know what this means?”

I meet my brother’s eyes over Jenna’s bowed head, a silent understanding passing between us. The missing girls, Jenna’s past, and the organization Guardian HRS has been hunting are all connected.

“We’re working the same case.” The realization hits me like a physical blow.

“This is… It’s huge.” Blake nods slowly, his eyes never leaving the sketch.

“Jenna is a phenomenal artist. She’s got pictures of some of the men involved and some of the facilities she was taken to.” I pause, the weight of what I’m about to ask settling on my shoulders. “I was hoping that Guardian HRS could help me find some of these facilities or help with facial recognition to track down these men and start drawing some connections.”

“This is… It’s fucking gold.” Blake’s eyes widen as he flips th rough the sketchpad, taking in the detailed sketches.” It’s precisely the kind of stuff we’ve been looking for. With these sketches and our resources…” His expression shifts from shock to determination.

“If it can help prevent what happened to me from happening to anyone else, then it’s worth it.” Jenna nods, her eyes still glistening with unshed tears, but her gaze now has a steely resolve.

“So, what’s our next move?” I slip my arm around Jenna’s shoulder, pulling her close.

“We need to get these to our tech team right away.” Blake stands, a new energy radiating from him. “Mitzy’s going to have a field day with this.”

Blake’s words sink in. We’re standing on something much bigger than my small-town investigation. This case has just become so much more than finding missing girls. We’re about to take on a criminal empire, and the stakes couldn’t be higher.

Just then, two figures enter the cafeteria. Max, who had been dozing under the table, perks up, his tail wagging as he recognizes Jeb. The man I know as one of Blake’s former team members is accompanied by a petite woman with long, raven-black hair and dark eyes, exuding a distinct goth vibe.

“Jeb, it’s good to see you again,” I say, standing and shaking his hand. Max trots over, nudging Jeb’s leg for attention.

“You too, Carter,” Jeb replies, returning a crushing handshake before giving Max a quick pat. His eyes shift to Jenna, curiosity evident.

Blake jumps in with introductions. “Jenna, this is Jeb. He used to be on Charlie team but jumped ship to work with the techies. And this is Stitch.” He gestures to the woman. “Our resident criminal hacker turned model citizen.”

“Hey!” Stitch playfully punches Blake’s arm. “You make it sound bad.”

“Am I wrong? You were arrested for hacking into the NSA.” Blake grins. “Mitzy got her sentence commuted if she agreed to work here. Now, she’s a vital part of our tech team. Helped bring down Citadel and everything. ”

“Nice to meet you.” Stitch rolls her eyes but extends her hand to Jenna and me. “What brings you to Guardian HRS?”

The innocent question hangs in the air, suddenly loaded with implications.

“Funny you should ask.” Blake clears his throat. “Jenna might have just given us a new lead on Sentinel. The man who—bought her had their symbol tattooed on his wrist.”

Stitch’s eyes widen. “Bought? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…”

“It’s okay,” Jenna says softly, shrinking back in her seat. Max, sensing her discomfort, moves to lay his head on her lap. “I don’t know if what happened to me is connected. It was years ago, and that tattoo could have been unrelated.”

Jeb and Stitch exchange a look.

“It’s one hell of a coincidence,” Jeb says, his brow furrowed.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions.” As a detective, the worst thing we can do is jump to conclusions before understanding the data. “We’re here because Jenna made detailed sketches of the places she was taken. I hoped to use your resources to identify the buildings, trace ownership, and follow the money trail.”

“We can do a lot better than that,” Blake says, his eyes shining excitedly. “It’s time to bring in the big guns—Mitzy, CJ, Sam, and Forest. We need to investigate this from all angles.”

“I’ll set up a meeting,” Stitch says, pulling out her phone.

We’re on the brink of something huge. Max whines softly, pressed against Jenna’s leg, as if he senses the weight of what’s to come.

Jenna and I find ourselves momentarily alone as the others disperse to set up the meeting. She rubs at her wrist again, a gesture I’ve seen her repeat several times today. She seems to withdraw into herself, her eyes becoming distant.

“Hey, are you okay? I know this is a lot.” I lean in close, my voice low.

“I just… I never thought I’d have to face this again. I thought I left it all behind.” She takes a shaky breath, her eyes meeting mine. “I don’t think I’m okay with it.” Her eyes pinch in pain .

“I’m sorry. I can make excuses. Take you home…I know this isn’t easy, but…”

“You don’t have to do that.” A flicker of determination flashes in her eyes. “I want to help. If Sentinel is behind your missing girls and behind what happened to me… I want to stop them. It’s just overwhelming.”

Pride swells in my chest at her words. Despite everything she’s been through, Jenna’s strength and courage never cease to amaze me. I pull her into a hug, holding her close. Her body trembles slightly, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she melts into my embrace, finding comfort in our shared warmth.

“You keep rubbing your wrist. I can’t help but notice there are faint lines there.”

Jenna hesitates, her eyes meeting mine with a mix of fear and trust. Slowly, she turns her wrist over, exposing the delicate skin on the inside. At first glance, I see nothing, but as she traces her finger over the area, I make out the faintest of lines.

“It’s a UV tattoo,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “The man who… Well, after he stripped me and before he…Well, he had that tattoo put on my wrist. It’s the same Chinese character; next to it, he placed a number. The number nine.”

I lean in closer, my heart racing at this revelation. “Nine? Do you know what it means?”

“Not really.” Jenna shakes her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I assumed it meant I was his ninth acquisition.” The pain in her voice breaks something inside me.

“You’re not a number,” I murmur into her hair. “You’re so much more than what they did to you. You’re strong, brave, and resilient.”

Her breath hitches, but she nods against my chest, the warmth of our connection providing a small but much-needed comfort. Her shoulders shake as she lets out a quiet sob. My arms tighten around her, wishing I could shield her from the pain of her past.

“I’m scared,” she admits, her voice muffled against my shirt. “I thought I’d left all this behind, but now…” Suddenly, Jenna’s body trembles more violently, and her grip on me tightens .

“We’re going to figure this out together, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.” I run a soothing hand down her back. I pull back slightly to look into her eyes, seeing the raw terror there. “What is it? Tell me.”

She pulls back slightly, her tear-stained face looking up at me. The vulnerability in her eyes makes my heart ache, but there’s also a flicker of something else—trust, maybe even hope.

“It’s all happening so fast,” she says, her words tumbling out in a rush. “If this organization, Sentinel, is the same one that took me all those years ago… It’s bigger than I ever imagined. And if they’re connected to what Guardian HRS is hunting down…” She shakes her head, unable to finish the thought. “How are we ever going to find your missing girls?”

“I don’t know, but I’m not giving up on them.”

“The man who bought me,” she continues, her voice dropping to a whisper. “If he finds out where I am…” Her eyes fill with fresh tears. “He’ll come after me. He’ll find me, and he’ll…”

I cup her face in my hands, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Listen to me. I won’t let that happen.”

“But what if word gets out?” she asks, the fear palpable in her voice. “It’s all moving so fast, and I feel like I’m losing control. I’m terrified of being found, of being taken again.”

“Your fear is completely understandable, but you’re not alone. You have me, and now you have Guardian HRS resources behind you. We’re going to figure this out, and we’re going to keep you safe.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, a small smile tugging at her lips.

I’m struck by how right this feels as we stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms. Jenna isn’t just a witness or someone I’m trying to protect. She’s become something more, someone I care deeply about.

The sound of approaching footsteps reminds us that we’re not truly alone. We reluctantly separate, but I keep hold of her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Ready?” I ask, searching her eyes .

“As I’ll ever be.” Jenna takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders.

While we had a moment to ourselves, Stitch was busy. She finishes a call and then approaches us.

“Meeting’s set,” she says, joining us as we bus our dishes and head outside.

The missing girls are still my priority, but now I have another reason to see this through—to help Jenna find closure and justice for what was done to her. As we climb back into the golf cart, Jenna’s hand finds mine again. Her grip is tight, terrified, and clingy, yet she remains resolute.