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

36. Carter

THIRTY-SIX

Carter

The clock on the dash flips to 0500 hours when we pull into Guardian HRS headquarters. My eyes burn with exhaustion, but there’s no time for rest. Not with what we’ve uncovered.

“Let’s move.” Ethan’s voice is gruff as he kills the engine.

We pile out, our footsteps echoing in the empty parking lot. The weight of the waterproof bags feels heavier than it should, laden with secrets we’ve yet to uncover.

Inside, the command center hums with activity. Screens flicker with data streams; the air is thick with tension and the acrid scent of stale coffee.

Mitzy, Stitch, and Jeb huddle around a central console while CJ and Sam confer in low voices nearby. Forest Summers stands at the helm, his presence commanding even in the early hours.

“What have you got for us?” Forest’s eyes lock onto the bags we’re carrying.

I upend the first bag onto a nearby table. Documents spill out, along with several hard drives. “Everything we could grab from the yacht.”

Mitzy rifles through the papers, her brow furrowed in concentration. “This is going to take some time to sort through. I’m sure it’s heavily encrypted.”

“Start cataloging everything.” Forest’s expression is grim. “We need to know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

For the next few hours, we meticulously document each item. The team works in near silence, the gravity of what we uncovered weighing on us all.

“Look at this.” Mitzy holds up a document, her finger tracing a series of symbols. “These keep repeating. Nine distinct markers.”

Forest leans in, studying the page. “Interesting. Could be some kind of organizational structure.”

More silence follows.

As noon draws near, CJ steps forward. “Alright, people. You’ve done good work. Get some rest. We’ll pick this up again later.”

Blake catches my eye. “You should see Jenna. She’s probably waiting in medical.”

“Yeah. Let’s go.” My bones ache with exhaustion, but the thought of seeing Jenna adds a spring to my step.

When we arrive, the medical wing is quiet. Jenna and Sophia sit together on a bed. Jenna has her arm around Sophia, who looks pale and vulnerable. The sight of them together, survivors supporting each other, tugs at something in my chest. When we enter, Jenna’s eyes light up. She disentangles herself from Sophia and rushes into my arms.

“Carter.” Her voice cracks with relief and exhaustion.

I wrap her in my arms, holding her as tightly as I dare. She buries her face in my chest, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. I stroke her hair, murmuring soothing words into her ear, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside of me.

“How are you holding up?” My voice thickens with emotion.

“Better now that you’re here.” She clings to me like a lifeline, her fingers digging into my back and her tears soaking my shirt. I don’t mind. It means this is real, and she’s no longer in danger.

Sophia pushes back on the bed, drawing her knees up to her chest, curling into a tight ball. Blake hovers near the door, his gaze fixed on Sophia. His hand twitches at his side as if he wants to reach out, but he holds himself back.

“How are you really feeling?” I pull back just enough to examine the bruises marring her face.

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck.” She manages a weak smile through her tears. “But I’ll live. How’s Max?”

“He’s stable.” Fortunately, Malia called me with an update a few hours ago. I brush a stray lock of hair from Jenna’s forehead. “Lost a lot of blood, and the surgery was successful. He’ll need time to recover, but he’s going to be okay.”

“Thank God. I want to see him.” Relief washes over Jenna’s face.

“We’ll arrange that soon. We found a lot of stuff on the yacht, but most of it’s encrypted. They haven’t figured anything out yet, but I’m hopeful something will lead to Sentinel.”

At the mention of Sentinel, Sophia’s head lifts. Blake takes a half-step forward, reaching out before catching himself. I hold Jenna closer, feeling her heartbeat against mine, and press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“I’ll make them pay for this.” My fingers brush her cheek, tracing the outline of a particularly dark bruise.

I kiss her again, softly, tenderly, then pull her even closer, holding her as if I could shield her from all the pain she’s endured. After a long moment, I gently take her hands in mine, turning them over to look at her wrists. My thumb brushes over the hidden tattoo, barely visible under the UV light.

“Jenna,” I say, my voice softer now, “do you know anything more about this? About shàobīng or if the number nine means you were his ninth?”

“Do you have something like this?” Jenna turns to Sophia.

“Mine’s a bit different.” Sophia nods slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But—it doesn’t mean what you think.”

“What do you mean?” Blake steps closer, his eyes narrowing.

“It’s not about the number of women. It’s Nine…”

“I get that.” I lean in, confusion and annoyance flickering across my face .

“It’s something else. Something bigger.” Sophia’s gaze shifts between Jenna and me, and then she looks down at her wrists.

“He’s a Sentinel. There are nine of them, all with different roles.” Sophia takes a shaky breath. “It doesn’t mean you were the ninth slave he owned. It means he’s the Ninth Sentinel.”

“Ninth Sentinel?” Blake’s eyebrows shoot up. “I thought Sentinel was an organization.”

“No.” Sophia shakes her head. “There are nine Sentinels. He was the Ninth.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, my mind racing.

“Each one has a different role.” Sophia uncurls slightly, her eyes distant. “The Ninth, he deals in human trafficking. The others… I don’t know all of them, but I heard things. One deals with weapons, another with money... They’re…” She grasps at the air as if struggling for an explanation.

“They’re, what?” I ask, gently.

“Disruptors. With a capital D. Their entire purpose is to disrupt the normal state of things.” Sophia curls in on herself as if trying to disappear; her voice is low but clear.

“How do you know all this?” Jenna shifts closer, her hand gently resting on Sophia’s arm.

“Jonathan—got complacent.” Sophia’s fingers twist in the blanket, her gaze distant.

“Jonathan?” Blake steps closer, his expression hardening.

“Jonathan Greaves.” Sophia’s voice trembles as she looks at Jenna, a mix of fear and regret in her eyes. “The Ninth Sentinel.”

“That’s his name? Jonathan Greaves?” I look to Blake, not needing to state the obvious. Sophia is a wealth of information.

“He thought I was broken, that I had no fight left in me. That I didn’t matter anymore. He left me in rooms during meetings or talked on the phone like I wasn’t there. I heard things I shouldn’t have.”

Blake’s jaw clenches, his body angling toward Sophia as if to shield her from an unseen threat.

“There’s more,” Sophia whispers. “There’s someone above them all. Jonathan was terrified of him. I heard him begging for more time once, telling Malfor he’d fix it. No matter what.”

Blake and I exchange another glance at the mention of Malfor. We know that name, but now isn’t the time to discuss it.

“Fix what?” Blake asks.

“I don’t know, but it was important, and he was scared.”

“Thank you, Sophia,” I say gently. “This is incredibly helpful.”

Sophia nods, curling back into herself. Blake takes another half-step toward her before stopping, his hand clenching and unclenching at his side.

The weight of this new information settles over us. We’ve uncovered something massive, something that goes far beyond what any of us imagined.

Nine Sentinels.

Not Sentinel, but nine of them.

An organization so vast and complex it makes my head spin.

“How are you holding up?” Blake’s gaze fixes on Sophia, his posture shifting subtly. There’s a protectiveness there I’ve never seen before.

“Managing. Thanks for asking.” Sophia glances up, her eyes meeting Blake’s briefly before darting away. “It doesn’t feel real.”

There’s so much I want to say and need to know, but now isn’t the time to push.

I think of the document Mitzy showed us, the nine repeating symbols. “The tattoos,” I breathe. “They’re designations?”

“In so much, to say that we belong to the Ninth Sentinel. That’s what our tattoo means.” Sophia nods, her eyes haunted.

“Is there more?” Blake’s voice is gentle and encouraging. “Other girls who belong to other Sentinels.”

“Yes.” Sophia swallows hard. “Lots more. Jonathan took extensive notes and records on inventory and transactions. He took private notes as well. Things he didn’t share. Things he wasn’t supposed to keep track of. That’s why you had to take the stuff from the safe.”

Sophia’s words have severe implications. Blake and I exchange a look, realizing the gravity of what we’ve just learned .

“Sophia,” I say gently, “I know this is difficult, but we must debrief you. The information you have is crucial.”

“We need to know everything you’ve heard, every detail you can remember.” Blake finally moves to stand beside Sophia. He places a hand on her shoulder, touching her as if she’ll break.

Just as Sophia begins to respond, the door swings open. Dr. Skye Summers steps in. Her keen eyes take in the scene. “I came to check on our patients,” she says, her voice calm but authoritative. “What’s going on here?”

I briefly explain the information Sophia has shared, emphasizing its potential importance to our investigation.

“Absolutely not.” Skye’s expression hardens. “These women have been through a traumatic ordeal. They need rest and time to process, not an interrogation.”

“Doc, the information Sophia has—” Blake steps forward, his protectiveness for Sophia evident.

“Can wait,” Skye cuts him off firmly. “Their mental and physical health comes first. Period.”

A tense silence falls over the room. Jenna’s shoulders sag. Dark circles accentuate her eyes, and her movements are sluggish. As much as I want answers, Skye is right.

“I’m okay. I want to help.” Sophia looks up, her voice steady despite her fatigue.

“I agree with the doc. You need to decompress and recover,” Blake says. “We can debrief you later.”

Once that is settled, I turn to Jenna and gently grasp her hand, feeling the weight of everything we’ve been through.

“What do you think about heading home? You could rest better there, and we can check on Max on the way.”

“I don’t want to leave her alone.” Jenna hesitates, glancing at Sophia.

“She won’t be alone.” Blake steps in. “I’ll watch over her and make sure she gets whatever she needs.”

“Thanks.” Sophia’s gaze lingers on Blake, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Go check on Max. I feel safe with Blake. I’ll be fine.”

“Thank you, Blake.” Relief fills Jenna’s expression .

“Thanks, Doc. We’ll head out now.” I turn to Skye, gratitude in my eyes.

“Just make sure she gets some rest, and I’ll want to check in on her.”

“Promise.” I take Jenna’s hand, eager to get her out of here and someplace private.

Blake pulls me aside as we prepare to leave. “I’ll keep you updated on anything Sophia shares, but…” His voice drops to a whisper. “Whatever’s going on here, it’s big. We need to be careful.”

“I know.”

With a final glance at Sophia, who watches with wary eyes, I lead Jenna out of the medical wing. I can’t shake the feeling we’ve scratched the surface of something much larger and more dangerous than we ever imagined.

Nine Sentinels.

Malfor at the head.

An organization that spans the globe.

Disruptors.

My arm tightens around Jenna’s waist, a fierce protectiveness surging through me.

Yeah, this is far from over.