Page 4 of Saving Jennifer
Noah made no move to take the phone. “I’ve been out of the game for quite a while.”
“And yet here you are.” Carpenter leaned forward. “Look, I understand your reluctance. After what happened in Kabul, I’d be wary too. But this is a straightforward protection detail, not complex counterintelligence.”
“If it’s so straightforward, why not use one of your regular operatives?”
“Because the Amirs have infiltrated nearly every security firm and most of the law enforcement agencies in Texas and Louisiana. They aren’t taking any chances in trying to find Ms. Baptiste. I need someone off the grid, someone with no digital footprint, no traceable employment history for the past three years.” Carpenter fixed him with a steady gaze. “Someone who disappeared into the Tennessee mountains and hasn’t surfaced since.”
The implication was clear. Noah’s isolation—what he’d considered his sanctuary—had become his most valuable asset in this situation.
“Two weeks,” Carpenter continued. “Then Nate returns from assignment in Colombia and takes over. All you must do is keep her alive and prevent her from doing anything reckless until then.”
Noah immediately read reckless for stupid. “From what I’ve heard, preventing reckless behavior is a full-time job where Ms. Baptiste is concerned.”
A hint of a smile touched Carpenter’s lips. “You’ve heard about what the Texas branch has been saying.”
“They seem to think she’s more trouble than she’s worth.”
“Ms. Baptiste…marches to her own drummer.”
“Great,” Noah muttered.
“Her determination is what’s kept her alive this long,” Carpenter pointed out. “And it’s what will eventually bring down the Amirs, if she survives long enough to prove they are behind the attempted abduction.”
Noah finally took the phone, turning it over in his hand. “If—and that’s a big if—I agree to this, I have conditions.”
“Name them.”
“I work alone. No team, no backup unless I specifically request it.”
Carpenter nodded. “Done.”
“I need complete access to the case file, no holding back. I don’t want any surprises jumping up to bite me in the butt because somebody didn’t give me all the information.”
“Already on the phone.”
“And when this is over, I go back to Tennessee, and nobody—not Gator, not you, not any Boudreau—comes looking for me again.”
Carpenter studied him for a long moment before nodding. “That last one isn’t up to me. But I’ll respect your wishes on my end.” He glanced toward the door where Gator waited in the hallway. “Though I suspect your Uncle Gator might have other ideas.”
It wasn’t the guarantee Noah wanted, but it was the best he was likely to get. He pocketed the phone with a curt nod.
“I’ll be at the safe house at seven. Have someone text me the address.”
“It’s already done,” Carpenter said, indicating the phone in Noah’s pocket. “One more thing.” He opened a drawer and removed a sleek handgun and holster. “Your Louisiana carry permit has been reactivated. Courtesy of your uncle’s connections.”
Noah took the weapon, checking it with practiced hands. A Glock19—reliable, familiar. He hadn’t carried a firearm since leaving the military, if you didn’t count the shotgun he kept at the cabin. You never knew when you’d have to chase away unwanted varmints.
“This doesn’t mean I’ve agreed,” he said, securing the holster at his hip.
Carpenter’s expression remained neutral. “Of course not.”
As Noah turned to leave, Carpenter called after him. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re the right man for this job.”
Noah paused at the door. “Why’s that?”
“Because Jennifer Baptiste doesn’t need a bodyguard. She needs someone who understands what it means to stand alone against powerful people who want you silenced.” Carpenter’s gaze was knowing.
The words hit closer to home than Noah cared to admit. He left without responding, the weight of the gun at his hip both foreign and familiar, like stepping back into a life he’d tried to leave behind.