Page 113 of Jenna's Protector

“Each Sentinel operates independently,” Jinx continues, “but they’re all connected through a centralized communication network. They report to a single individual known only as Malfor.”

“Tell me more about Malfor?” I know a little, but not nearly enough.

“More than we’d like, but not nearly enough.” Mitzy’s expression darkens. “Stitch, you want to take this one?”

Stitch steps forward, her usual confident demeanor tinged with unease. She takes a deep breath before speaking.

“Malfor isn’t just a name in encrypted files. He—or she, or they… It’s personal.” Stitch’s voice is tight with suppressed emotion. “Malfor was my mentor, back when I was just a kid with a keyboard and too much curiosity. Taught me everything I know about hacking. Well, almost everything.”

She pauses, her eyes distant. “Malfor’s the one who got me arrested. Dared me to hack the NSA, then abandoned me when I got caught. I thought my life was over after that, but Mitzy recruited me. I joined Guardian HRS and was immediately assigned to the Citadel case.” She shakes her head. “After the Citadel incident, I received a text from Malfor. Telling me to back off and stay away from Sentinel.”

The room falls silent as I process this information.

“Malfor’s not just the head of Sentinel,” Ethan says slowly. “He’s a master hacker, on par with, or better than, Stitch.”

“And they’re not afraid to play the long game.” Mitzy nods grimly. “Grooming Stitch from childhood, setting her up years later… This is someone with patience, resources, and a frighteningly strategic mind.”

“But we still don’t know who he is?” Frustration colors my voice.

“No,” Stitch admits. “Malfor could be anyone. Man, woman, a group of people… Hell, for all we know, it could be an AI. Whoever or whatever Malfor is, he/she/they are incredibly good at staying hidden.”

As the briefing continues, I can’t shake the feeling we’ve just scratched the surface of something far more complex and dangerous than we ever imagined. The fight against Sentinel isn’t about bringing down criminals anymore. It’s a chess game with the highest stakes imaginable, and we’re playing against a grandmaster we can’t even see.

After some discussion, the room falls into a tense silence as we all grapple with the implications of what we’ve learned. CJ finally breaks the silence, his voice cutting through the heavy atmosphere.

“It’s time we hear from someone who’s been on the inside.” His eyes scan the room.

“Agreed. Let’s bring Sophia in.” Mitzy nods, her expression grim. “Our hope is she will be able to fill in some of the gaps.”

THIRTY-NINE

Carter

We all knowhow fragile Sophia is and how traumatized her experiences have made her, but we also know that her insights could be crucial.

“I’ll get her,” Blake volunteers, his voice tight with barely concealed protectiveness.

I do a double take because I’ve never seen Blake act like this before.

As he leaves to fetch Sophia, the rest of us rearrange ourselves, preparing for what promises to be a difficult debriefing. I can’t help feeling a twinge of guilt, knowing we’re about to ask Sophia to relive her worst nightmares.

I did that to Jenna and experienced the fallout firsthand.

Minutes later, the door opens. The briefing room falls silent as Sophia enters. Blake is close behind, protecting her.

Her shoulders are hunched, and her gaze darts nervously around the room. Blake’s posture is rigid, and his eyes scan each person as if assessing potential threats.

The tension in the room ratchets up another notch as Sophia takes her seat at the table. We’re all acutely aware of the delicatebalance we’re trying to strike—between getting the information we need without further traumatizing a victim of Sentinel’s cruelty.

Ethan speaks first, his voice gentle but probing. I steel myself for what’s to come. Whatever Sophia has to tell us, I have a feeling it’s going to change everything.

“Sophia,” Ethan begins gently, “can you tell us more about the Ninth Sentinel’s operations? You mentioned he allowed you to stay in place during business dealings.”

“He—he thought I was broken. Harmless.” Sophia’s hands tremble slightly as she speaks. “He’d leave me in the room during meetings, on phone calls. I heard—so much.”

Blake’s hand comes to rest on her shoulder, a gesture of support and protection. Sophia draws strength from it, sitting up a little straighter.

“There were frequent calls about shipments. Girls, mostly, but sometimes weapons or drugs. He used code words, but I started to understand them over time.”

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