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

23. Carter

TWENTY-THREE

Carter

While I miss Max at my side, he’s in good hands with Jenna. If I had to be jealous of anyone stealing my dog’s affection, I’m glad it’s her.

I make the hour-long drive to Guardian HQ in record time. It’s early, and traffic is light. As I pull up to the entrance of the tech facility, Blake waits for me, his tall frame leaning against the sleek glass doors.

“Well, well, well, look who decided to show up,” Blake calls out as I exit my vehicle, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I wasn’t expecting a welcoming committee.” I grab my bag from the passenger seat. “And what do you mean by ‘decided to show up’?” I glance at my watch. “I’m right on time.”

Blake chuckles, shaking his head as I approach him. “In the world of Guardian HRS, on time is late. Early is on time.”

I roll my eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

“You do that.” Blake grins, pulling me into a quick hug. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too. Even if you are busting my chops first thing in the morning. ”

“First thing? Dude, I’ve been up for hours. It’s practically mid-day for me.”

We head inside, and I can’t help but be impressed by the sleek, modern interior. The Guardian HRS building is all clean lines and reinforced steel, designed to withstand any threat. It’s an imposing structure, and walking through its doors fills me with a sense of awe.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Blake watches my reaction with a smirk on his face and a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“It’s certainly something,” I admit. “I’m extraordinarily lucky to have Guardian HRS helping me with this case—although I hate that you are.”

“Why’s that?” Blake’s expression turns serious.

“The only reason you’re involved is because my case ties in with an organization you’ve been struggling to bring down. It’s fortuitous, but I hate that it means there are other victims in need.” My jaw clenches, and my gut churns.

“Unfortunately, it’s true, but look at us, Blake and Carter Jackson, the super twins working together again. Vile assholes aside, I’m stoked we finally get to work together. It’s been too long since we’ve been a team.”

We continue into the main part of the facility, and I’m struck by the level of activity. Computers hum, their screens casting a bluish glow across the faces of the analysts hunched over their keyboards. Monitors line the walls, displaying real-time feeds from around the world. The air crackles with tension and purpose.

Everyone here is focused on a singular goal—protecting the innocent and bringing the guilty to justice.

“It’s a bit mind-boggling, if I’m being honest.” I run a hand through my hair, feeling a pang of defeat. “I wish I had access to similar resources at my job.”

“Well, that’s what happens when you work for the underfunded good guys instead of the super-secret, high-tech organization with all the dough in the world.”

I elbow him in the ribs. “Watch it, or I’ll tell everyone about the time you cried during ‘The Notebook.’”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Blake narrows his eyes at me .

“Try me.” I grin.

Blake shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “Come on, let’s go see what miracles we can work with that evidence of yours.”

I follow him deeper into the facility, ready to see what Guardian HRS can bring to the table. With their resources and my determination, it’s only a matter of time before we find a way to bring down the monsters behind this case and save the lives hanging in the balance.

I have to say, it puts my dingy office to shame. As we walk to a briefing room where we’ll work on my case, I make a conscious effort not to leave my jaw gaping.

This place is— intense.

I can’t help but reflect on the path not taken. As twins, Blake and I are close—closer than most siblings. Nearly inseparable comes to mind.

But our lives took very different turns.

He joined the Navy, became a SEAL, and now works with this incredible team. I was lied to; told I’d knocked a girl up. I did the honorable thing. Then I found out I got played. By then, it was too late to change course.

Sometimes, I wonder what my life would look like if I had followed Blake into the Navy. But then I think of my work as a detective, of the people I’ve helped and the difference I’ve made.

It’s not as flashy as what he does here, but it matters.

I’m good at what I do—exceptional even—and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

My thoughts are interrupted by Mitzy, who enters with flair and a bustle of energy. She moves to the front of the room, a grim look on her face, and says nothing. Immediately, her fingers fly over her keyboard as images flash across the screen behind her. She starts speaking without lifting her eyes from the screen in front of her.

“I’ve been working on identifying the men in Jenna’s sketches. We found nothing on facial reconstruction, but I thought I could tweak the parameters to adjust for any reconstructive work done. Unfortunately, I’ve hit a wall. These men—they’ve undergone extensive surgery, making facial recognition impossible, even for my algorithms.”

Everyone in the room deflates a little at the news of the facial reconstructions. It’s a dead end, a roadblock in our investigation. A murmur goes through the room. The frustration and disappointment of the others is palpable. I feel it too, a sinking feeling in my gut.

Blake has mentioned Mitzy’s incredible skills more times than I can count. Mitzy Magic, he calls it, and I expect miracles.

“If Mitzy can’t work her magic, where does that leave us?” I nudge Blake and lean in close, keeping my voice low.

“Just wait.” Blake leans back with a shit-eating grin on his face. “You’ve yet to see it.”

“It?”

I look around the room at the stony expressions of Blake’s teammates and the pensive expressions on Stitch and Jeb’s faces. They’re locked into whatever it is they’re doing with their computers, but if there’s any magic going on, I fail to see it.

“Mitzy isn’t one to give up easily.” He gives a cheekish grin.

Suddenly, Mitzy’s eyes light up, a spark of excitement animating her features.

“The architecture.” Her voice rises with anticipation.

“What?” Once again, I lean toward Blake, hoping for an explanation.

“Just wait…” Blake places his hands behind his head, lacing his fingers together. Asshole is having fun with this.

But I still don’t see any Mitzy Magic.

“Stitch…” Mitzy points to the Goth chick, another female hacker with impressive skills—or so I’m told. “That building has a distinct style. Have you run it to see if we can identify the architect? That might give us what we need.”

“On it, boss.” Stitch leans close to Jeb.

Stitch and Jeb put their heads together. Then they turn as one to face their screens. The interaction is a bit creepy, as if they’re thinking with one brain.

The room erupts into a flurry of activity, everyone energized by this new lead. Meanwhile, Mitzy leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. She looks directly at me, a glint of determination in her eye.

“I’ve already sent the sketches to my geo-locating friends. Jenna’s drawings aren’t as good as actual photographs, but it’s something.”

“How does that matter?” I don’t pretend to understand a tenth of what this woman can do.

“Photographs capture the height of the sun, cloud cover, shadows, and other visual clues, but Jenna’s sketches are better than nothing. They’re working on pinpointing the location of the facility as we speak. I’m just waiting for word back from them.”

Maybe this is Mitzy Magic?

Hard to say. This seems to be an everyday thing for these people, but my mind is blown. I’m an excellent detective and can close cases with basically nothing but the barest thread to stitch together a case.

Now, if I had access to their resources?

Fuck, that would be epic.

As if on cue, Mitzy’s computer pings, a new message flashing across the screen. Her brow furrows in concentration. The room holds its collective breath, waiting.

Then, a grin spreads across Mitzy’s face. “They found it. The compound where Jenna was trained. It’s about a three to four-hour drive from here.” She looks up at me, her expression softening. “About two hours north from you.”

The entire vibe of the room suddenly shifts. Everyone, including me, sits up straighter, and the air crackles with renewed energy.

Blake leans in. “Told ya. Now that’s a bit of Mitzy Magic.”

“Great.” Sam, the leader of both the technical and Guardian teams, leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “So we know where it is. But who owns it?”

Mitzy’s fingers fly over the keys, pulling up new windows and documents. “I’m tapping into the local government’s records now. Building plans, construction permits, everything they have on this place.”

We watch as blueprints and schematics fill the screens. The estate takes shape before our eyes. It’s a sprawling compound with high walls and fortified gates, just like Jenna described.

Jeb lets out a low whistle. “That’s some serious security. Whoever built this place didn’t want anyone getting in?—”

“Or out.” Stitch completes his sentence. “Looks like a prison.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s Jenna. I step out into the hallway to take the call, concerned something’s wrong.

“What’s up, love?”

“How’s it going over there?” Her voice is warm and comforting in my ear. There’s no sign of stress, which means I can relax.

“We’re making progress.” I lean against the wall, feeling some of the tension drain from my shoulders at the sound of her voice. “How are you holding up?”

“Max has been keeping me company. He’s quite the charmer with the customers.” Her voice carries a smile, making it easy to imagine the warmth in her eyes. “I think he’s interviewing for Marlowe Café Mascot.”

“I’m glad you two are getting along. I might start getting jealous.”

“Don’t worry, Detective.” She laughs, and the sound warms me from the inside out. “You’re still my favorite.”

“Better be after this morning’s shower.”

We talk for a few more minutes about everything and nothing. Just hearing her voice, knowing she’s safe and surrounded by the comforting bustle of the café, eases something in me.

When I step back into the briefing room, the energy is palpable. Mitzy is already deep into planning mode, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

“It’s isolated, way off the grid.” She pulls up satellite images of a dense forest surrounding the compound. “But it matches Jenna’s descriptions perfectly.”

“We need eyes on this place. See what we can learn.” CJ steps forward, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Drones or a recon mission?” Ethan, the leader of Charlie team, speaks up.

“Both.” CJ stops his pacing and glances at the schematics of the building displayed on all the monitors in the room. “Mitzy’s drones are the best to see if anyone is still there and to get a basic lay of the land, but we need boots on the ground. Drones first to see who’s there. Then Charlie team. We’ll go in at night and gather what intel we can.”

Murmurs of agreement fill the room as they start to plan.

“Mitzy, Stitch, and Jeb,” CJ says, “the three of you work on mapping out the compound and identifying potential entry points. Ethan, you take care of logistics—gear, transportation, contingencies.”

“Copy that.”

“Isn’t it risky—showing our hand like this?” I can’t help but step up and insert a voice of caution into the mix. “I’m worried us poking around is going to raise questions we don’t want them asking.”

“We’ll be discreet. They won’t know we’re on to them.” CJ’s gruff voice fills the room. “It’s a risk we have to take. The drones can give us a lot of intel, but boots on the ground is always superior.”

They’re the experts, but I feel as if this is our first mistake.