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

17. Carter

SEVENTEEN

Carter

The briefing room is a mess of tension and exhaustion. We huddle around the table, poring over Jenna’s sketches. The weight of the case hangs heavy in the air, punctuated by faces etched with grim determination.

Mitzy carefully removes each sketch from Jenna’s book, handling them like precious things. Her psychedelic hair sparkles under the lights as she spreads Jenna’s sketches out on the table, arranging and rearranging them like puzzle pieces.

“Look at this.” She points to a detail in one of the sketches. “This building, it’s got unique architectural features. We might be able to use that to narrow down the location.”

“How do we narrow down the location based on the architecture?” Stitch, Mitzy’s complete opposite with her long, raven-black hair and goth persona, leans in closer.

Mitzy taps her chin thoughtfully. “We can cross-reference it with known buildings in the area. We might land a hit on the architect who designed it. Use that to work back to this place.”

The door to the briefing room suddenly swings open, and a staff member enters, carrying a stack of pizza boxes. The aroma of melted cheese and garlic wafts through the air, mixing with the scent of freshly brewed coffee.

“It’s gonna be a long night, folks. Thought we could use some fuel.” Sam stands, his voice cutting through the chatter.

The team cheers, grateful for the sustenance. They dig in, grab slices, and refocus on the task at hand, but I hesitate. Jenna’s not in the room, and it doesn’t feel right to eat without her.

Ethan speaks up after taking a bite of pizza. “Hey, Mitzy, what about what we did when we rescued Eve? Call in your cyber geeks that do that geolocate thing.”

“I’m one step ahead of you.” Mitzy’s eyes light up. “Already sent a request.”

“What does that mean?” My brow furrows.

Ethan, the team strategist, chimes in. “When we rescued Eve Deverough, all we had to go on was a photo. Mitzy worked her magic, and we located the compound. We’re hoping they can do the same with Jenna’s sketches.”

“Yeah, they’re the best of the best,” Mitzy says. “Give them a blurry photo and a half-eaten bagel, and they’ll find its location faster than you can say ‘enhance.’”

I lean back in my chair, rubbing my temples. The fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting harsh shadows across the room. My gaze drifts to the open door, catching a glimpse of Jenna in the hallway. She’s talking to Forest, her shoulders hunched, her body language screaming discomfort.

A pang of guilt twists in my gut. I did this to her, dragged her back into the nightmare she’s tried so hard to escape.

Max, my loyal German Shepherd, sits at my feet. He senses my unease. His ears perk up, and his eyes fix on me. I reach down, scratching behind his ears.

“Hey, buddy. Go take care of our girl, will you?”

Max tilts his head, his tail thumping against the floor. He stands, shaking out his fur, and trots out of the room. He approaches Jenna, nuzzling her hand, and the tension in her shoulders eases. A small smile tugs at her lips, the first smile since this briefing began.

I turn back to the briefing. Jenna’s sketches, the ones she poured her heart and soul into, are spread out on the table. The faces may have changed, erased by Sentinel, but the landscapes and the buildings have not—those are the key.

Jeb points to a sketch. “This looks like a warehouse district. Lots of places to hide, lots of room for illegal activities.”

Rigel nods in agreement. “Just gotta locate it, but we should start there, see if anything stands out. It’s not much, but it’s a start.”

The room falls silent, the gravity of the situation sinking in. We’re nowhere close to cracking this case. I fear another girl will be taken before we make any headway.

It’s a heavy weight on my shoulders.

I glance back at the hallway, catching sight of Jenna and Forest. They’re still talking, but Jenna’s posture has changed. She’s standing taller, her shoulders squared. Whatever Forest is saying, it’s giving her strength.

Jenna is the strongest person I know, a survivor in every sense of the word. She’s facing her demons head-on, and that takes a kind of courage most people can only dream of.

I turn back to the table, my resolve hardening. With the might of Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists, I might find who took my four missing girls. Hopefully, before Sentinel adds a fifth and a sixth to the list.

“Jeb, can you snap pictures of all the buildings Jenna drew? Got a response from my dark web contacts, and they’re eager to begin.” Mitzy is a flurry of activity. Her fingers fly across her keyboard, her eyes glued to the screen. The monitor's glow illuminates her face, casting an eerie blue light across her features.

I push back from the table, my chair scraping against the floor. The sound is harsh, grating against my nerves. I need to check on Jenna and make sure she’s holding up under the weight of all this.

She looks up as I approach, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Max stands diligently at her side, enjoying a little neck scratch courtesy of Jenna. The urge to pull her into my arms is overwhelming.

“Hey,” I say, my voice soft. “How are you holding up? ”

“I’m okay. Just… It’s a lot, you know?” Jenna takes a shaky breath, her fingers curling into Max’s fur.

“I wish I could make this easier for you.” The lump in my throat makes it hard to speak.

“Don’t be sorry. I want to help. I need to help.” She shakes her head, and a stray lock of hair falls across her face. “If my sketches can bring those girls home, it’s worth it.”

“You’re amazing, you know that?” The words slip out before I can stop them, my heart laid bare in the space between us.

“I’m just doing what anyone would do.” A blush stains Jenna’s cheeks, and her gaze drops to the floor.

“No, you’re not. You’re facing your demons head-on, and that takes a kind of courage most people can only dream of.”

Jenna looks at me, her eyes searching mine. For a moment, the rest of the world falls away, and it’s just us, suspended in this fragile bubble of understanding.

The team’s chatter inside the briefing room breaks our moment. Reality comes crashing back in, and the weight of the case settles heavily on my shoulders once more.

“I should get back in there. There’s pizza if you want it?” I clear my throat, stepping back.

“Honestly, I’m not hungry.”

“Will you be okay here with Max for a bit?”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine. Go do what you need to do.” Jenna’s fingers tighten in Max’s fur.

I hesitate; the urge to stay with her wars with my duty, but the case calls, and I can’t ignore it. With a final nod, I turn and head back to the team, my heart heavy with the knowledge of what we’re up against.

Back in the briefing room, ideas bounce off the walls as Blake and his teammates dig deeper into Jenna’s sketches. Each revelation sparks another lead to chase down.

Mitzy’s dark web contacts are already working their magic, and I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the resources and expertise that Guardian HRS is bringing to my case.

But as much as I want to dive in and lose myself in the hunt, Jenna needs me more. She’s been through hell today, reliving her worst nightmares for the sake of this case. The least I can do is make sure she gets home safely.

I catch Ethan’s eye across the table and give him a nod. He understands immediately, waving me off with a silent “go.”

I find Jenna and Max in the hallway, her hand buried in his fur as she leans against the wall. She looks up as I approach, exhaustion etched into every line of her face.

“Hey, you ready to get out of here?” I ask softly.

Jenna nods, pushing off the wall. “More than ready. Do you mind if we swing by a drive-thru on the way? I’m starving all of a sudden.”

“There’s still some pizza left, if you want it.”

“Not really in the mood for pizza.”

“Of course. Anything you want.”

Max woofs softly, his tail wagging at the prospect of a car ride and a potential treat.

We pile into my truck, the silence comfortable as we navigate the quiet streets. The fluorescent glow of a 24-hour burger joint beckons, and I pull into the drive-thru without a second thought.

“Two burgers and a plain hotdog, please,” I order for us both, not realizing I never asked Jenna what she wanted. She sits in silence, absorbed in her thoughts.

I watch Jenna out of the corner of my eye, mesmerized by the delicate way she holds her burger and savors each bite. Meanwhile, Max wolfs down the pieces of hotdog I feed him.

“What?” She catches me staring and quirks an eyebrow.

“Nothing. Just… It’s nice to see you relaxed. Even if it’s just for a moment.”

“It feels good. Normal, even. Like maybe the world isn’t ending after all.” Jenna smiles, a real smile that reaches her eyes.

“We’re going to get through this. I promise.” I reach across the console and take her hand, gently squeezing it as if I can pour my emotions into the touch.

“I trust you. More than I’ve ever trusted anyone.” She squeezes back, her fingers warm against mine .

We finish our burgers in comfortable silence, the tension slowly easing from our shoulders. I dump our trash in a nearby trashcan, and we’re back on the road.

The drive to Jenna’s place is a blur of streetlights and shadows. The silence between us is thick, the weight of the day hanging heavy in the air. Jenna’s exhaustion radiates off her in waves, the toll this is taking on her evident in every line of her body.

Miles pile up behind us as I drive her home, the silence broken only by the soft hum of the engine and Max’s occasional yawn from the backseat. Today’s events replay in my mind. Jenna’s strength and vulnerability intertwine in a way that makes my heart ache.

As I pull up to her apartment building, Jenna turns to me, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. The war behind her eyes is clear: the fear of being alone clashes with the fear of asking for help.

“I hate to ask, but I don’t want to be alone tonight.” Her voice is small and delicate, almost lost in the space between us. “Do you think… Would it be too much if I asked you to stay with me?”

It’s a big step, crossing that line from professional to personal, but the thought of leaving her alone after everything she’s been through is unthinkable.

“Of course. Whatever you need, I’m here.” I reach across the console, taking her hand in mine. Her fingers tremble slightly, and I give them a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you.” Relief washes over her features, and she blinks back tears. “I just… I don’t think I can face the night alone. Not after today.”

“You don’t have to explain. I get it.” And I do.