When I finally come around I realize that I'm lying on my couch. The pungent smell of liquor and unwashed clothes tell me that Haymitch is nearby. I touch my head gingerly and find that the gash there has been bandaged.

"Where's Peeta?" I mutter.

"You've been asking the same thing over and over again for half and hour—we don't know," repeats Haymitch exasperated. "Next?"

"I want my bow."

"Well, that sounds about right. Number 1, where's Peeta, number 2, bring me a lethal weapon. At least we know there's been no permanent brain damage." He takes a swig from his flask. "But there's really no point, you know, unless you're going to use your bow to divine his whereabouts."

I groan and pull myself into a seated position, trying to clear my thoughts. It's a bit hard considering the throbbing pain in my skull.

"Come on now, Katniss. You've gotta take it easy— " begins Haymitch in what might be a concerned voice.

I cut him off abruptly, "Where's Johanna?"

"In the kitchen with Beetee wracking her brains as to what could have possibly precedented Peeta's abduction." My ears perk up at that. "Yeah, Beetee's here," he says, reading my thoughts. "Called him right afterwards and he came as fast as he could. Luckily he happened to be on business in 11."

I feel a little better knowing we've got one of the most brilliant minds in Panem on the case, but mostly I feel like I want to find whoever took Peeta and treat them to a long, painful death.

"I don't get it," I say bitterly. "Why Peeta? If this were some kind of revenge scheme wouldn't they go straight for me?"

"Same question we have sweetheart. A surprise attack like that and you unarmed—even the Girl on Fire couldn't have wormed herself out of that one. You weren't the target."

I hear the scraping of chairs in the other room and I see Beetee and Johanna emerge. Beetee looks a bit healthier than the last time I saw him, there's some color in his cheeks and his wire-rimmed glasses aren't slipping off his gaunt face anymore. Johanna is nursing an arm wound, most likely a stray piece of shrapnel. They both look tired.

"Hey there Katniss," says Beetee, trying to sound cheerful. "Long time no see."

All I can do is nod in his direction.

"We've been over the security footage again and again," Beetee tells Haymitch. "They must have tampered with the alert system—it's the only way they could have broken through the perimeter."

"Excuse me," I say, becoming concerned that I may be more concussed that I previously imagined. "The perimeter?"

Beetee squirms a little and avoids looking me directly in the eye.

"Er, yes, after the Rebellion we set up a small…um, security net."

"A security net?" My eyes narrow and I round on Haymitch, "Did you know about this?" I demand. Unlike Beetee, he doesn't look the least bit bothered by this line of questioning.

"Well of course I did. Honestly you're so thick sometimes. What? You think a war just ends and poof that's that?" He kicks off his shoes and props his feet up on the couch. "There were loyalists to contend with, mercenaries looking to cash in on the post-war chaos, thugs, gangs, you name it! You and Peeta were sitting ducks, and with your knack for getting yourselves in trouble, hell, of course we set up some security measures."

I glare at Haymitch for a second. Then I grab his feet and push him so that he topples backwards off his chair and onto the floor. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly while his string of obscenities pound into my aching head.

Johanna smirks. "Told you she'd take it well."

"We're really sorry, you know," says Beetee, his voice brimming with regret. I start to feel that I may have overreacted. "It's just we knew the two of you were going through a lot and we thought it best to not worry you."

"Yeah, well, you still should have told me," I say stubbornly. "I wouldn't have let my guard down."

"Point taken. No more secrets," promises Beetee.

"Where have I heard that before?" I scoff, still staring daggers at Haymitch. Somehow I'm sure he's behind the deception.

"Enough!" interrupts Johanna before I can say anything else. "We get it, you're mad. But we need to stop obsessing over how they got him and start figuring out who they are and where they're taking him."

"Right," agrees Beetee, unrolling what looks like a giant map. I gasp when it unfurls because it is not your average map. It's 3D for one and there are different colored dots hovering above it, blinking and moving in courses across an unfamiliar, mountainous terrain. "It's made with holograms," he tells me, seeing my surprise. "You know, like the ones we used during the Rebellion."

"What is it?"

"It's a map of the outer wastelands beyond District 13," grunts Haymitch, who seems to have recovered from his fall and looks a bit sobered. "Its virtually unexplored terrain. Folks believe there were once settlements there ages ago when this place was called North America, but because of the show down between the Capitol and 13 these last 75 years it's been virtually impossible to access."

"And before that the Capitol didn't really bother with it," adds Johanna with a wry smile. "They had enough resources to exploit."

"Luckily, some cartographers and military types from 13 were looking into the region. That's where we got this map. Gotta know your neighbors, right?"

"Neighbors?" I ask, feeling that this is a lot of new information to take in, especially when my head refuses to stop pounding. Peeta, Peeta, Peeta beats the steady tattoo.

"Yep. Point is, we think there are several terrorist cells located in these mountains—the Rockies they were once called. See those clusters?" asks Beetee gesturing to some regions glowing on the map. I nod. "Those are them."

"And the dots moving overhead?" I ask. I shake my head, but the drum continues Peeta. Peeta. Peeta.

"Those are hovercrafts," breaks in Haymitch. "We've got a map like this for District 12, too. Although the first-class moron that was on duty says he didn't see anything before the attack."

"None of these new mechanisms are foolproof, Haymitch," explains Beetee tiredly, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "Useful advances in science and technology were basically non-existent during the Capitol's reign. Sure we made electronics in District 3, but they were mostly frivolous, meant for entertainment when the elite weren't watching children hacking each other to death on TV. Or worse…they were…implements of torture, some of them…But what could anyone do? I don't need to tell you all that the Capitol has ways of persuading," he pronounces the word with obvious bile, "people to do things."

"Alright," I say slowly, trying to process everything. "So these terrorists, who are they? What's their game?" Why is everything some kind of sick game?

Johanna fields this one, "Unfortunately there's no cut and dry answer to that. We think some of them are Capitol loyalists. It's obvious that they had some kind of emergency escape plan, but it clearly wasn't well developed. Snow though he was invincible, you see. He thought slaughtering a round of children each year and," she swallows hard, "their families, would prevent another Rebellion from every happening… Hubris. Gets you every time."

"But it's clear that some of them got out," puts in Beetee, "although we're not actually all that concerned about them. It was probably mostly the rich, political elite that scrambled out of there like a bunch of cowards and we don't think they'll last so long in this rugged terrain."

Haymitch smiles grimly and adds, "Best case scenario? They run themselves into one of these other cells and we won't have to deal with them. Now there's a cornucopia-style bloodbath in the making."

"Ok, so who are you worried about then?" I'm starting to feel a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead, a precursor to full out panic. Images of Peeta lying bloodied and beaten in a cell are threatening to choke out what little concentration I have left. Why are we just sitting here? I have to do something! My heart is starting to race.

Haymitch knows me well enough to know that situations like this make me reckless. He grabs my shoulders and gives me a little shake. "I know what you're thinking, girl, and it's stupid. You can't just go charging out into the wilderness after that boy with no plan and no idea where in the hell you're going!"

I open my mouth to protest, but Haymitch barrels on, "I know you've done it before. No one's questioning your courage here, just your sanity. You're not doing Peeta any favors by doing something foolish that's gonna get you killed!"

I can't really think of any response to that. He's right, of course. Peeta would never want me to risk my life for his, but somehow the thought of his unwavering affection for me, that pure, selfless love which used to make me so uncomfortable, just makes me want to run after him even more.

I settle with a sullen glare at Haymitch. "Ok fine, but can we move this along already! Who knows—" my voice breaks. I'm perilously close to tears. "Who knows what they're doing to him…"

Johanna makes a spasmodic movement and I think she's about to grip my hand. Instead she says softly, far too softly for Johanna, "Peeta's tough, Katniss. He'll get through this and we'll find him. We will!" The steely resolve in her eye makes me feel a bit more hopeful and I sit back on the couch, ready to listen.

Beetee continues, pretending my outburst never happened and I'm grateful to him for it. "So as I was saying, we can cross the loyalists off our list. The group I'm most worried about is this one," he says jabbing his finger at a pulsating red cluster hidden deep in the mountains. Beetee's expression is so dark that I feel the hairs standing up on the back of my neck.

I'm almost afraid to ask my next question. "Who are they?"

"The "Lords of Light" they call themselves, its the most ironic of names. They are a sinister, cult-like organization that's been conspiring for decades. I know this is going to be hard for you to hear, Katniss, but I need you to stay with me. No one can be sure of their methods or motives because although many have been taken in…no one has ever come back alive." Beetee's dark pronouncement settles over the room like a thick fog. I can do nothing but stare raptly at him, feeling completely incapacitated by fear. He continues, "They've been snatching people, mostly children, for years. The most intelligent kids from my district, those that show promise in math and science. They disappear in the night."

Beetee stops abruptly with a short of choking noise and Johanna takes over for him. "This is kind of close to home for Beetee," she explains, giving him a sad look. "Intelligence tells us that they've been working on a super-secret form of mental terrorism, you know, mind control and that sort of thing. We think that's why they wanted Peeta. Capitol doctors have been messing around with hijacking for a long time and so far Peeta is the only one to have recovered so completely."

It's the worst thing I can imagine. Mind penetration. So much worse that any physical harm that they could inflict upon him. I remember all the dark nights I spent rocking him in my arms after he fought off an episode. Shaking and twitching and crying out at unseen foes, like a shell of the person he once was. I imagine them penetrating the dark recesses of his subconscious, assailing his already mangled memories, forcing him to relive the worst moments of his life, implanting in him false moments that are worse, if that is even possible.

"So what do we do?" I say finally, my fear quickly dissipating, leaving in its wake a grim determination.

"Well," says Haymitch slowly. "There is one person who could help…He's a special agent—in charge of the terrorism dispersal unit in the Outerlands. But I don't think you're going to like it…"

I know who it is even before anyone pronounces his name. "Give me the phone," I say calmly. Peeta needs me and that's all I can think about right now.

He picks up after two rings. "Hello?"

"Hi Gale," I say, "It's me."

"Katniss?"