Every year, Finnick hopes the rebel armies have managed to put an end to the ability of the Capitol to stage another round of Hunger Games. Then the fact that he can't defend the border in Seven with this stupid wall wouldn't matter. And every year, his hopes are crushed.
"You can stop working on the defenses," Johanna announces.
Finnick squeezes his eyes shut and sighs a deep breath. "Damn it."
Johanna looks at him in surprise. "What? You knew it wasn't going to work."
"No, but..." She summoned him back from the border with Six, and he'd dared to hope for good news.
Foolish hope.
Johanna looks at him curiously, and when he doesn't finish his sentence, shrugs. "Anyway, it served its purpose. I got a lot of military initiatives that I've been wanting, and in return, all I have to do is get a rescue mission going for the missing kids, which, as I'm sure I don't need to tell you, I am one hundred percent behind."
"From the Capitol?" Finnick's brain immediately starts racing down the possibly pathways, trying to come up with ways for that not to be a suicide mission.
"From the arena, if we can swing it."
"Do we know where it is?" Finnick asks, astonished.
"No, I have no idea. That's why I figured I'd ask you first." Johanna winks at him. "And alone."
Finnick snorts and rolls his eyes. "I hate to disappoint you, but I haven't fucked any Gamemakers lately. It'll be a bit of a stretch if I try to start now."
"You figured out all my secrets without fucking me," Johanna points out. "If you can't figure this one out, fine, but I thought I'd ask."
"I'm betting they're holding it in Two, near the Capitol." Finnick thinks out loud. "Although One does have mountains. Two has more fighting, but also more troops. That means there's a chance the Four troops in Two can find out. I'll see if I can get anything out of Rudder. He's not very talkative, but he trusts me with intelligence."
"Rudder's not in Three," Johanna informs him. "I tried sending a message, was told he left two weeks ago."
"Rudder? But he's been in Three since the war started..." Finnick's voice trails off.
"You think he's on a rescue mission too," Johanna guesses. "Ha!"
"But why now? This is the third year of Games since the war started."
"Pearleye and Plutarch have been at a hammer and anvil strategy in Two, right?" Johanna says. "Maybe this year they've pushed deep enough."
Suddenly, Finnick knows with utter certainty that if the arena's been located, Rudder will be there, for the same reason he has to be there.
He and Johanna exchange a look.
She bares her teeth in a grin. "Let's do it."
"Is this the 'craft you airlifted me to lower altitude in?" Finnick asks, scrutinizing the controls. Johanna's slipped in beside him. "And do we have at least two people who can fly it?"
"Do we have at least one?" she counters. "Not on short notice. We can delay our departure, but the parade was this morning. And you have sharp eyes." Johanna raises her eyebrows.
"I've found it useful to be able to tell one hovercraft from another," Finnick says drily.
"That sounds like a story," Johanna prompts. Finnick's got some crazy stories, and he's good at telling them, too.
"Tell you later. I don't know if you've got one, but if we can to stay on friendly territory and radio our position ahead so we don't get shot down, maybe. We're sure it's flightworthy?"
"I've had engineers crawling over every inch, and they say it's flightworthy. As long as we've got a worthy flyboy," she needles.
"I've put in my hours on the flight simulators in Three and Four, and I've logged some air time as well. I'm not the best pilot in the world, but I'm authorized." With Annie gone, he's got nothing else to do in Three.
"Good enough for me." Johanna can drive trucks and logs, but there are no flight simulators up here.
"Who's coming? Have we got supplies?"
"Supplies are taken care of. Four semi-civilian-militia-type soldiers who knew the kids."
Finnick grunts. "Parents?" Considering how he reacted when he thought Annie was in the arena, he can neither blame them for any compromised judgment nor think it's a good idea to have them along.
"No, but an uncle."
"Mm." Finnick looks up. "All right, I'm comfortable with these controls. You've got yourself a pilot."
Johanna claps him on his shoulder. "My flyboy and my spy boy."
Finnick laughs. Looks like he's piloting the rescue mission.
"So did you learn to fly sleep-deprived?" Johanna ribs him during a lull in mid-air. "Is that like flying drunk?"
"Not so much," Finnick explains. "Not that my insomnia ever really goes away, but Dahlia wasn't so bad. I slept better at her place than most. She was just going through the motions of a socialite lifestyle, and fucking me was one of those motions. She may have been born to that life, but she did a less convincing job of pretending to fit in than I did. She was really very serious and just wanted to be left alone to work."
"Huh. You think you would have liked her if she was from the districts?"
"Maybe." Finnick shrugs. "Or maybe she'd have been like Pearleye and we'd have gotten on each other's nerves. Either way, her house was pretty low-key, and I managed to get some sleep. Not as much as when I'm with someone I trust." He glances at Johanna. "But better than nothing."
They land in Four without serious incident, only a couple of close calls, and one forced landing where Finnick had to exit the 'craft and prove that he wasn't operating under duress. Once in Four, Finnick works his contacts hard and establishes that yes, Rudder is on the front lines in Two, along with Elspa.
Then he gets his team a ride into Two.
"Wow, you have tanks now?" Johanna looks around at the convoy, impressed, before she lets one of the troops shoo them all into the back of the truck they'll be riding in.
"Evidently." Probably captured from the enemy, unless Six and Thirteen are cranking out materiel faster than Finnick had realized.
"Know how to operate one?"
Finnick laughs. "No, but..."
"How hard can it be?" Johanna winks.
"Flying is harder than it looks," he tells her. "But I'm good at learning how to halfway do things."
As the convoy rolls across the desert, Finnick wonders about anti-tank mines, old or new, but he makes an effort to shove that into the nothing-to-be-done slot of his brain. If the Four troops haven't been able to secure a route in the last two or so years since they expanded outside their borders, it's pure silliness, not to mention arrogance, to think that he'd be able to do anything about it in the next five minutes.
He just likes it better when he has some element of control.
Finnick looks over at Johanna and forces in and out a deep breath. Focus. There'll be plenty of work to be done when you get there, if you're right.
Noticing, Johanna digs her shoulder into his arm, and he knows she's telling him the same thing. Calm down. Whatever happens, we'll tackle it together.
"No sleep until we get there?" She raises an eyebrow and speaks under her breath.
Finnick sighs. "I'll try. I know Mags would want me to. I just don't deal well with adrenaline when I don't have an outlet for it."
"She didn't train you?"
"Oh, she did. So did Rudder. It was easier when I was younger." Before Mags was dead, and Annie gone.
Now Johanna knees his thigh. They're crammed into the back of a truck with supplies and a dozen other sweating bodies in the desert summer, and it looks like she's jostling for space, but Finnick can read her message. If you need touch to relax, here's your touch.
He smiles his gratitude and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the sweat that streams down over them from his forehead. They'll be there soon.
It's both too soon and not soon enough when they arrive at the Four encampment in Two. Thirteen is camped not far off.
"Both of you!" Elspa cackles when Finnick and Johanna find her.
"I knew it," adds Brine, coming up from behind her with a grin.
"Is everyone here?" Finnick asks, a smile flickering across his face. He may have a complicated relationship with Brine and almost none at all with Elspa, but just being surrounded by Four accents strikes a twinge of nostalgia. "Rudder?"
"Everyone," Elspa confirms. She thrums with energy as she paces back and forth, chin tilted confidently. "Rudder's occupied, but I'll send word that you've arrived."
Finnick follows Elspa with his eyes. She has the same panther-like grace that he always admired in Cashmere.
"Katniss too," Brine adds.
Elspa notices Finnick's gaze and flicks him back appreciation. They fucked a couple of times, long ago, but they're too much alike to really be close. Finnick finds himself getting competitive with her in a way he doesn't even with Johanna.
"Wow, family reunion," Finnick jokes.
Like a lightning bolt, resentment flashes across Elspa's face. She still thinks she would have won, even though the girl who was accepted as volunteer over her died. Maybe she would have; maybe Mags wanted the stronger candidate here on the front lines in Two ten years later, not gambling her life in the arena.
Or maybe she wouldn't have; the only year they had two female volunteers was the year none of the eighteen-year-olds in Four wanted to be shown up by a fourteen-year-old, and the year no one in One or Two wanted to risk a repeat of the previous year. The year Four was targeted in the bloodbath, and neither of their tributes lasted out the first hour.
Sixty-Six.
"So we do know where the arena is?" Johanna demands. Finnick can feel her excitement mounting along with his, in lockstep with the dread.
"Closing in on it."
"This is the endgame, then," Finnick says. "If we've made this much headway in Two."
Brine nods. "Maybe so. We think we can crack this nut if we just press a little harder."
"But not in time to prevent this year's Games," Elspa says. "So we're going to have to stage a separate mission. I'm sure you'll be brought up to date. We had advance notice you were coming," she says to Finnick, "but not the rest of you. How many in total from Seven?"
"Four plus me," Johanna answers.
"All right, we'll get you settled in. You don't mind camping with us?"
"Well, we were going to set up a separate Seven camp on our own front line and attack the enemy from there," Johanna says, straight-faced, "but I suppose we could join forces."
Elspa looks approving. "You'll do."
Johanna watches Elspa incorporate the new arrivals casually, staring at the other woman like her life depends on figuring out what the difference between them is.
She holds her head high, but so does Johanna. She can juggle with her eyes closed—give orders, gather information, make decisions, and switch from topic to topic without missing a beat, but so can Johanna.
Then Elspa laughs, dipping her head in a private nod at the officer standing beside her. He grins back, in what's obviously an inside joke.
That's it, that's the difference. Elspa's easy in command. She leads like she doesn't expect to be challenged. She's not locked in a non-stop battle with everyone she meets.
That could have been me, Johanna cries in silent anguish. That should have been me!
"I should have been from District Four," Johanna grumbles later, setting up camp with Finnick and her team.
"You would have been happier," Finnick acknowledges. "So would I," he adds with a smile. "But for the sake of Panem, I'm glad you were from Seven."
Johanna almost drops the pole she's holding. "What?" She stares at Finnick in utter disbelief until he pauses in his setup and looks at her, bemused. "But I haven't done anything like what I could have."
"You would have done amazing work in Four, but then we wouldn't have had anyone in Seven, and we needed that more than we needed one more amazing person in Four."
"Really?" Johanna's standing frozen in place, not bothering to hide her shock. Then her eyes narrow. "Are you saying this to make me feel better?"
"No! Remember when you wanted to come to Four, but everyone said you should stay where you were?"
"Yes, but then I got captured, and I talked, and I haven't been able to drag anyone hiding in the mountains down to the front lines. I can't take credit for the fighting in Seven—they would have done that without me."
"Yes, of course. But you're the reason Seven's in an alliance with us. Why do you think Katniss hasn't been there?"
"It's not because she hates my guts?"
Finnick grins. "Nah. There's a war on. Since when do any of our feelings matter? She goes where she's needed, and thanks to you, she hasn't been needed in Seven."
Johanna breathes deep. Really?
Then her brain catches up to her facial expressions, and she realizes she's letting her vulnerability show. So Johanna does what she does best and goes on the offense.
"So what's up with you and Elspa?" she teases. "Don't tell me you weren't making ooh-la-la eyes at each other the whole time."
Finnick laughs. "We have great flirting chemistry, but we can't stand each other an hour after the sex, so that's as far as that ever goes. Not like Annie, we were friends before there was ever any sex."
"And it's not great sex?" Johanna guesses.
Finnick gives her a look, pretending to be disgruntled. "Johanna, do you even know what a boundary is?" But he answers, because he doesn't really mind and she knows it. "Honestly, I don't think I had great sex with Elspa either. I'm not sure if I ever do. I'm too busy making it perfect sex. So if I don't have perfect sex with Annie, it's because I trust her. She gets to see all my messy, inconvenient sides. That's why I married her."
"You got married?" Delighted, Johanna jogs him with her elbow. "For real, or-"
"Oh, yes, we tied the knot." Finnick grins helplessly, remembering.
"Congratulations! How did you not invite me, you thoughtless bastard?"
"Well, you know how it is. Out of sight, out of mind." Finnick dodges the tent pole she swings at him. "No, if we'd gotten married in Seven, you'd have been in charge of organizing the wedding, don't worry."
"Organize your own wedding, lazybones."
"Sorry, too busy enjoying the company of my fiancée." Finnick sticks out his tongue. "No, the sad thing is, I wasn't even doing that. Want to know how I spent the days leading up to my wedding? Same way I spend most of my time with you—catching up on sleep. Lazybones is more right than you know. That's what I mean about the messy bits." Finnick laughs, and even Johanna can tell he's laughing because it hurts. "I hardly ever got to see her, and I slept through most of it."
"Sounds like you'll have to make up for lost time afterwards, then." Johanna drives a peg into the ground and holds her hand out.
Finnick tosses her the hammer, and she catches it one-handed. "That was exactly our wedding promise."
"Then I'll just have to win the war faster, and make sure you're all caught up on sleep before you see her."
Finnick looks touched, but he knows better than to say it. "I'm sure you'll kill me if I say that's really sweet of you, but that's really fierce and problem-solving of you."
Johanna laughs hard. "I try."
Just then, someone calls Finnick's name. "I'll finish up here," Johanna tells him. "Catch you later?"
"Thanks. Ask for Benton when you're done," Finnick suggests. "I think you'll have a lot to talk about."
Just as he's taking off and she's hauling a bulky bundle of sleeping bags, a man she doesn't recognize steps up. "I can take that."
Finnick half turns. "Nah, she's got it. You don't know Johanna."
Seething, Johanna knows what's next—she'll take your head off if you try to help her—but every person she's trained is one less person getting in her way. She's yanking the bundle out of the man's reach, throwing them both off balance, when Finnick continues,
"She used to drive logs. Move trees around. You should ask her about it sometime, it's pretty interesting stuff."
"All right." The man backs off. "Just trying to help."
"The nice thing about Johanna," Finnick persists, "is that she gets her job done, so you can go get something else done."
Johanna bites the inside of her cheek to keep the smile from breaking out. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" she calls to Finnick.
He grins back. "But seriously, talk to Benton. He's our logistics guy from way back. You put your heads together and you'll be unstoppable." Finnick looks up at the guy behind her. "And I'm serious about asking her about the log drive." He blows them a kiss, and he's gone.
Fine, it's not like she has anything better to do. Besides, as annoying as he can be, always insisting on her making contacts, they do keep paying off.
Stupid Finnick, always being useful.
When Peeta comes looking Finnick up, Finnick's both touched and concerned.
"What are you doing here?"
The last he'd heard, it wasn't safe for Peeta to leave Thirteen. Now he's here, on the front lines? Something's gone wrong. Someone decided Katniss needed the moral support this badly, and either Peeta insisted or someone insisted Peeta come against his will.
Finnick doesn't know Peeta well, but he knows him well enough to suspect he volunteered. It doesn't leave Finnick much less worried.
Slowly, Peeta sits down beside him. "I heard you were here for the Games. I thought I'd come say hi."
Someone actually wanting to talk to Finnick is soothing, but that wasn't the question and Peeta knows it. He's silent for a while.
"Prim's started going out on the battlefields with the medics," he finally says. "Even that Avox woman from Four is here."
"What, Coral?" Finnick interrupts. "You know, she escaped a fire meant to kill her and somehow made it to District Thirteen after the war'd broken out. She seems unusually self-sufficient. You don't need to feel bad—Annie's gone so deep in hiding I'm not even allowed to know where she is."
"Is that why you're so nice to me? Do I remind you of her?"
"Those are two different things," Finnick protests. "Yes, you're like Annie in some ways, but I don't have so many people who can stand me that I wouldn't appreciate you anyway." He takes Peeta's hand. "I suppose Katniss is still mad at me?"
"I told you, it's more complicated than that. And that reminds me, Haymitch says he's not. He's recovering from an injury in Thirteen, by the way, or he'd be here too."
Finnick sighs involuntarily. "He forgave me?"
"He didn't seem like he thought there was anything to forgive. He didn't want to go, you did, and he doesn't know what idiot thought he was more cut out for charming bigwigs than you."
"What?" Finnick's jaw drops. "But of course he didn't want to go, that doesn't mean he wasn't going to go. If I hadn't talked him out of it while he was too drunk to say no. I was sure he'd regret it in the morning, and I did it anyway."
Peeta shrugs. "He thought you saved him from a miserably boring evening and did a better job at it to boot. Why, you always do what you don't want to, even if there's a way out?"
"Of course!"
"Well, I guess it's harder to get Haymitch to go along with something he thinks is stupid." Peeta glances at him quickly. "No offense."
"None taken. I just—well, I guess that's one person who doesn't wish I'd disappear. Shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Anyway, you talk to him a lot?" Finnick smiles. "Nothing beats a good mentor."
Then Finnick bites his tongue, because shit, he'd managed to forget for a minute why he doesn't have his mentor any more, and he wasn't trying to rub it in.
Peeta gives him a long look. "How close were you and Mags?" he asks softly.
Finnick makes a face, swallows. "Pretty close," he admits.
"Haymitch and I aren't that close. But...he's been there for me, more than once."
Bracing himself with a deep breath, Peeta begins tapping the thumb of his free hand on his knee while he works up the courage. Finnick hangs on tight to his left hand and listens.
"My mother. Used to yell at me a lot. Us. Hit us. With her hands, usually. Sometimes with the rolling pin. We never talked about it. But everyone knew. My father knew. He used to tell me to let what she said go in one ear and out the other. I guess that's what he did.
"He was always kind. But he never stood up for me. No one did. Not until the Hunger Games. Katniss. Haymitch. You."
"That happens. There's your blood family, and there's your victor family. What'd Haymitch do? You don't have to tell me," Finnick adds, when Peeta struggles to open.
"No, I...I don't have a lot of people to talk to. And you keep putting up with me for some reason."
"Remember what I said about the victor family?" Finnick asks gently.
"I know, but I killed half your victor family."
"True, but so did I, and so did Annie, and Katniss, and Plutarch, and Snow. It took six of us to kill one eighty-year-old lady with arthritis and a stroke, and she still had to help us out. Talk about indestructible!"
To Peeta's quizzical, hesitant expression, Finnick shrugs. "I laugh at life, I laugh at death, it's what I do. But you were saying about Haymitch?"
"He...saw my mother...being herself in my house in the Victors' Village. He yelled at her, told her to get out. She said she wouldn't let a disgusting old drunk tell her how to raise her own children so they could turn out fuckups like him. It...escalated. The whole family was there.
"In the end, he got his way. She moved out. But so did they all. My dad would come to visit, but he went home to her. One of my brothers said he wanted to live with me, but...too scared of her, I guess. Can't blame him."
Finnick makes a deep, wordless sound in his throat. "You, me, Annie...all estranged." Johanna, Mags, and Rudder left alone. Cashmere and Gloss keeping their distance to keep their secrets. And on and on it went. We don't get to keep our families.
"I should have said something, done something. I just sat there, frozen, while they all shouted and threw things. I should have-"
"Oh, Peeta." Finnick shakes his head. "What would you have said?"
"I don't know. To this day, I don't know. And now they're all dead."
And now Peeta's always saying he wishes Finnick would come back to Thirteen, and Finnick's always finding an excuse to go back to Seven. "You compared me to an older brother once. I'm sorry I'm not around more, but if there's anything I can do while we're here, don't hesitate."
Peeta chuckles nervously. "Actually, I was trying to get up the courage to ask you for a favor—Not that kind," he hastens to add, although Finnick would have been more surprised if it was. "But I mean, after you saved my life five times in two days and we didn't even make it easy for you, at this point I've got nothing to lose by asking, right?"
Finnick laughs with him, hoping Peeta's humor is self-deprecating and not too bitter. "Sure, why not. Ask away."
"But you have to promise not to tell Katniss. She'll kill us both."
Now Finnick's curiosity is piqued, but he has an idea what's coming. "Peeta, if there's one thing I can do, it's keep a secret," he assures the boy.
"I guess so." Swallowing a couple times, Peeta asks surprisingly steadily, "I'm not a total innocent, but I know there's a lot you learn as you go along, and I was hoping...you must have gotten this question before, right?"
"Oh yeah." Finnick settles back against a stack of crates, getting comfortable. "I can do this one in my sleep."
He can't tell you how to get someone to notice you, other than win the Hunger Games at fourteen and look pretty doing it, but how to please them in bed, that he is a world-class expert on.
"Okay," Peeta says with relief, "but you cannot tell Katniss I asked!"
"Your secret is safe with me. Now, there are two versions-"
"You really have done this before," Peeta interrupts.
"A million times. So there's the one where you have a sex life, and the one where you don't yet but you want one." Finnick pauses.
Peeta is shaking his head. "No, she really will kill me. It's none of her business where I learn what I know, but it is her business what I tell you about her."
"Fair enough. So here go both, then."
The lecture leaves Peeta both fascinated and doubled over in laughter, and Finnick smirking and laughing with him. He's had fun crafting something light-hearted and educational over the years, and it's always gratifying when he knows his hard-won experience will be put to use making someone he cares about happy.
"Thanks, man," Peeta says, when Finnick winds to a close. "So you and Cinna, huh?"
Finnick smiles. "I couldn't tell whether he was more interested in me professionally or sexually. I wore his clothes for a season, got him some good publicity. Maybe that helped his promotion to Twelve stylist, who knows."
Peeta's smiling. "That finally makes sense out of something I didn't understand for a long time. When Cinna and I came out and saw you and Katniss chatting by the chariot, Cinna threw his hand over his eyes very dramatically, half turned away, and exclaimed, 'I can't look!' And I was so confused, because Katniss looked fine."
Finnick chuckles. "Me and Cinna used to joke around like that. And wow, but you are straight."
"Guess so," Peeta says. "Sorry, I just don't see it. You're into both, then?"
The easy answer is yes. "Probably. It was a job, it didn't matter what I was into." Since they've just been talking about sex, Finnick admits something he's never admitted out loud before. "Sometimes I had to put the effort into being more turned on, sometimes into being less turned on. It didn't seem to matter whether it was a man or woman. None of that says anything about me, about what I liked. Enough physical stimulation and your body doesn't care who's delivering it. Straight as you are, I promise I could make you scream right now if our lives depended on it."
Peeta looks sick. "But Cinna wasn't—he wasn't allowed to sponsor. Right?" he says pleadingly.
"Oh. No, don't worry, he wasn't one of my clients. What you have to understand is that President Snow was watching me so closely that even at home, never mind the Capitol, I had to choose who I slept with based on what it got me, whether it was information or shaping what he thought of me. There were never no strings attached."
"Wow. I feel bad asking you to talk about it, then. Taking advantage of all your experience."
"Nah," Finnick assures him, "I actually like knowing it'll be put to good use. And more than that, when you ask for something, it feels like reaching out. I don't want payback, I want someone to reach back. It doesn't bother you, then—after the last time we spoke?"
"What, your history, or the fact that Katniss doesn't like it? I'm sorry it happened to you, I'm sorry about all your sacrifices, but I can't hold it against you. And Katniss...It took me ten years to get her to notice me, but I never stopped loving her, not for a day. If she doesn't like me reaching out to you, I can wait her out on this one too."
Stubborn boy. Finnick smiles affectionately.
He's glad that they get the occasional chance to talk, even if it's only once a year, even if he can't be the confidant Peeta craves. But even if everything were working out between him and Peeta and Katniss, it's been so many years that any time Finnick thinks about how maybe he should have stayed in Thirteen, all he can he think is how much he'd have to give up. He hasn't been idle, and he's been doing important work that no one else could do.
Just then, he hears an impatient shout. "Finnick! Where are you? We're having a meeting, get your butt in gear!"
Bossy Johanna always warms Finnick's heart, and her teasing him about missing a meeting makes him laugh. "I'm coming!"
The meeting is full of familiar faces. Rudder, Elspa, and Brine from Four, Plutarch and Katniss from Thirteen, Lyme from Two, and of course, him and Johanna from Seven.
A number of them are carrying injuries, visible or otherwise. Lyme's arm hangs from her shoulder in a sling. A patch covers Rudder's left eye. Johanna leans subtly forward in her chair to avoid putting pressure on her right upper back, but presses the lower part hard against the rigid pine backing.
Lyme opens. "I'll summarize, for the new arrivals." She points at the map projected onto the wall. "You can see here how far deep into Two territory we've pushed. We hold everything between here and the borders to Four in the west and District Ten in the east. I have to admit most of that was uninhabited, but we did capture weapons testing sites in the desert that have been very useful.
"Meanwhile, they're pulling in and closing a line of defense around the Capitol, and the fighting has been up here. More mountains. It's hard for both sides to move large bodies of troops around in, and easier to hide, spy, sabotage, and ambush. We have enough insider support that the terrain isn't as much of an advantage to them as it could be.
"The plan is to keep pushing them back, until we can capture the Capitol. But this week, we have to think about the Hunger Games. The tributes enter the arena tomorrow. We've spent the last month or two narrowing in on its location, and in the last few days we finally found it.
"As you'd expect, it's behind enemy lines, and they will defend it strongly. This means if we make a move for it, it will have to be a small but powerful thrust. We can't afford to throw away resources that we'll need to take the Capitol. Rescuing the tributes, though, will be a great psychological victory."
"Will it?" Brine asks. "We evacuated the arena in Seventy-Five-"
"Half the arena," Johanna snaps.
Finnick represses a reaction, because she doesn't want pity and his guilt won't help her, and Brine flinches. "Anyway," he stammers, before resuming his flow, "it didn't win us the war. Here we are, three years later, doing the same thing."
"It helped unite most of the districts," Plutarch says calmly, "and got us defectors from the others. But I'll tell you this: our failure to prevent future Hunger Games has weighed against us in the balance of this war. As long as there are Hunger Games, the Capitol can claim to be in control, even if the infrastructure is falling apart around them. We haven't won as long as we still have to give up our children and watch them die. This is why the Capitol has been so insistent on holding the Games every year, even though they could have used those resources elsewhere. That's why we have to do what we can to put an end to these Games."
"Their arenas have to be weaker now, though, right?" Katniss says.
"Weak is still deadly," Plutarch says. "Don't underestimate them. Arenas are begun up to five years in advance, and they're finished on a rotating schedule." He glances at Johanna. "Seventy-One was an unusual year. But this arena will have been begun when the Capitol was at its peak of wealth and power. At best, it'll lack some of the elaborations that get added toward the end."
"Like a giant saltwater pond in the middle?" quips Finnick.
Plutarch gives him a stern look. "Yes," he says flatly. "Last-minute sponsor pressure went into that feature. Next question?"
Finnick chuckles and lets the discussion go back to serious topics.
"What we know about the arena," Rudder begins summarizing, "is that it's inside a mountain. Most likely both to defend against bombing and to favor Two. What kind of measures may have been taken against the One tributes to prevent a repeat of last year, we don't know. But we do suspect an environment that would favor anyone with a mining and quarrying background."
"Do they have a mining and quarrying background?" Finnick directs his question to Lyme. "Full-time weapons training, right?"
"First, we start them older than One. Second, whether or not they've personally worked in the mines or gone to school or worked in a store, they'll be familiar with mountains, rocks, and tunnels. Third, if you think we don't train them to be good at what the audience expects them to be good at..."
"Fair enough," Finnick concedes. Why else did Johanna train with an axe? "So more rocks."
"More rocks," Rudder agrees. He gestures to a man sitting further down the table. "This is Max. He's heading up the team of engineers we have to try to get information about, control over, and sabotage of the arena. We'll need engineers as much as we need armed forces."
Max nods to everyone at the table. "We have managed to intercept some of the signals coming between the arena and the Gamemakers control room in the Capitol. We're tapping them, in other words, and we don't believe they're aware.
"Deciphering is another matter, and controlling is even harder. We're operating from the assumption that we won't know what the arena looks like until we receive the official broadcast tomorrow along with the rest of the country, and we won't be able to wrest control of the arena. If we send a team into the arena, it will be into Gamemaker-controlled territory.
"Nevertheless, my team is working round the clock to get as much information as possible, particularly on the location and nature of the traps. If, for example, they have the ability to strike you with lightning from anywhere in the arena, that will be information we have to build our strategies around."
"You're saying we won't be able to send anyone on the first day," Finnick says. "That we have to do reconnaissance first."
"There will be tributes killed," Plutarch confirms. "If we go in without information, all we can do is die with them."
"Are we definitely sending a team, then?" Katniss asks. "The last I heard, that hadn't been decided."
"Unless we can find a better way to stage a rescue," Rudder answers.
"Step one is going to be the assault on the outer defenses," Plutarch elaborates. "If, and I mean if, we can break past them and gain entrance to the arena, then we will try sending a team inside."
Katniss catches Finnick's eye. He knows immediately what she's thinking, and he gives her a tiny nod.
Katniss raises her voice. "If this is for propaganda, then we have to send someone recognizable. Someone like me."
An invisible electric current runs around the table, but no one looks surprised. The leaders must have been waiting for this.
"Is it more dangerous than the other appearances you've been having me make?" Katniss presses.
Plutarch considers. "Somewhat, yes. Enemy territory is not Gamemaker territory. We didn't have a choice the last time you went into the arena. Now you're asking me to authorize it."
"It's a big gamble," Lyme says. "If we pull it off, the image of the Mockingjay rescuing children and returning them home will be burned into the minds of the entire country. If we deliberately send the Mockingjay into the arena and the Gamemakers take her out, we look irresponsible, arrogant, even suicidal, and we lose one of our most important game pieces."
"But if we don't use her for what she's good at, she's not our most important piece."
Finnick wishes Haymitch were here. Looking around the table, he doesn't see anyone who might be mentoring Katniss. Plutarch is formal and distant, and to all appearances, less personally invested in Katniss than Rudder is in Finnick. And Peeta, who either wasn't invited or didn't want to come, is doing the best he can at moral support, but he's in no position to guide and advise.
"Can't we film her receiving the children once they exit the arena," Lyme argues, "promise them they'll see their families again, maybe even personally deliver them to their families?"
"Look," Katniss says, "I don't want to die. But neither do those kids. I'm supposed to stay safe and look them in the eye afterward, then take all the credit? I'm not offering to go alone, just to share the risk. I'll have the same odds as anyone else."
"Higher," Finnick interjects. "I'll be with her."
Another deep sigh of breaths around the table, but no one objects.
"It'll be fiiine," Finnick drawls, grinning. There's no way he's sitting on the sidelines and watching this happen. Katniss knew that the moment she glanced at him.
"Oh, sure, Katniss couldn't be safer," Johanna chimes in. "Why not let Peeta come along for the ride too?"
Johanna laughs snidely at the immediate chorus of Nos. "Even safer than last time, then." She smirks.
"The composition of the teams is something we're going to hammer out in the next couple of days," Rudder says in tones of finality. "It will be volunteer-only, and each member will need the joint approval of myself, Lyme, and Plutarch. We'll need a minimum of two teams, one for the initial, exterior assault, and one for entry if the first one is successful.
"In the meantime, an overview of what's happening in the next two days. The engineers have an outpost in the mountains not far from the arena, where is where they're intercepting these electronic signals Max talked about. We will be joining them, and launching our mission from there. Elspa, you'll be in command down here."
Elspa nods.
"We'll be accepting applications for this mission, and we'll be meeting with each of you individually. Dismissed."
Rudder interviews Johanna first.
"If Finnick goes into the arena, is he going to get himself killed?"
Johanna's jaw drops.
"Is that a no, then?"
Johanna's brain stutters to a halt, tries to change tracks. "Well, I was thinking more along the lines of me keeping him from getting killed when Katniss doesn't give a shit or outright attacks him, but, no, let me think."
She drums her fingers on her knee, pondering.
"You're saying he's so stuck on the idea that it's his job to rescue everyone else that if you let him loose with Katniss and a bunch of tributes, he's going to start throwing himself in front of everyone left, right, and center?" She nods, tightening her lips disapprovingly.
"Maybe," Rudder says, not giving anything away. "Does he have any other reasons for getting himself killed that you know of?"
Oh, shit. That's right, Rudder knows about Finnick's lungs. "You mean choosing a quick death?"
"Has he shown any signs?" Rudder retorts.
Johanna takes a deep breath. She can protect Finnick from enemy soldiers, mutts, Gamemakers, and Katniss. She doesn't want to think about dangers she can't protect him from.
"He's been throwing himself into danger a lot. Insisting that we're not allowed to rescue him. But that's how he got himself into this situation, right? Volunteering for the Hunger Games, carrying Peeta, sacrificing Mags, getting electrocuted."
"If I put him in command, do you think responsibility for a team will put a damper on his recklessness, give him something to sacrifice himself for, or put everyone else in danger?"
Johanna doesn't even have to think about how to answer that. "The second one."
"If you're with him, do you think you can get him off a self-destructive track? Or do you think it would be the other way around?"
This is the most brutal conversation Johanna's been in since Sallie told her about her father's suicide. She can shoot anything that looks at Finnick wrong, but will he use protecting her as a flimsy excuse for throwing himself in front of a speeding bullet? Finnick cares enough about her that he might find it easier to get himself killed if she's there.
"I haven't been able to get him off a self-destructive track yet," Johanna's forced to admit. "The best I can do is insist on rescuing him. And since it would have to be a real emergency before I tried carrying him myself, that usually means ordering someone else to do it. Couldn't we have made him the Mockingjay?" She grumbles. "Then he'd have to keep himself in one piece."
"I wish," Rudder says grimly. "Well, what can you tell me?"
"You were right. He is burning out." She shakes her head wonderingly. "He's still on his feet, who knows how. If you put him in the arena, he'll do the job. But if he goes in, I'm going with him. I don't trust him or Katniss to bring him back."
"Is he being reckless?"
Johanna's hesitation speaks volumes. "I was about to say yes, but then...he did rig a draw at fourteen. Is he being more reckless than usual? He always had this weird combination of putting himself in ridiculously dangerous situations, and then walking away from danger like he has nothing to prove."
"What does your gut say?"
"My gut says he's determined to get himself killed protecting someone else. If you put him in the arena, that's what he'll try to do. And that's why he needs someone protecting him."
"We need to talk about Johanna," is the first thing Finnick says, before Rudder can even begin quizzing him. He raises an eyebrow, allowing Finnick to continue.
Finnick leans forward, hands on his knees. "There are two kinds of volunteers for the Hunger Games. The ones who want to be there, and the ones who are willing to make the sacrifice. If Johanna were in the first category, I wouldn't question her fitness. But she's in the second, and if we can avoid sending someone who's already been reaped twice, captured and tortured once-"
"Was she tortured?" Rudder interrupts.
"She says no, which I take to mean 'only a little'. She doesn't talk about it, which I find very telling. I'd like to keep her out of the arena if possible. That said, if you need her to make up the numbers on the team, she'd definitely be an asset, not a handicap."
"All right, thank you for your input."
"One other thing. Whatever assignment you give her, make it a critical one. She's good at what she does, and there's nothing she cares about more than this fight. I'm only suggesting you keep her out of the arena because I don't want to torture her more than necessary."
"I'll take that into consideration," Rudder says. "Now. Are you going to get anyone killed in the arena?"
Finnick physically rocks backward as if from a blow, then leans in again, eyes glued to Rudder's. "What the hell kind of question is that?!"
"You want to turn this into your personal suicide mission, get yourself killed in battle before the nerve gas gives you a slower death, I won't say I don't understand. But before I let you in there, I have to know that death wish isn't endangering anyone else."
Finnick brings his fist down on the table. "Did Mags endanger anyone else? Have I ever done anything but save everyone around me? Years of sacrifice, and this is the kind of trust I get? From you of all people? I think Katniss trusted me more! She at least wanted me to go in with her. Kind of like she's been paying attention or something."
Rudder waits for the rant to run its course. "I won't ask whether you're trying to get yourself killed. If you give me your word that it won't get anyone else killed, I will trust you. You've earned that. But I am responsible for a team and I do have to ask."
Fuming, Finnick exhales through his teeth. With forced calm, he says, "I give you my word I will keep protecting everyone else. The same way I always have. I'll be responsible, and trustworthy, and use good strategies, and...what else do you need to hear?"
"That's enough. You're dismissed."
Finnick goes straight to Johanna after the interview, his blood up.
"Talking about me behind my back with Rudder? He acts like he doesn't trust me any more."
"Oh, we trust you. With anything except your own skin."
Finnick grabs her shirt by the collar. "What the fuck did you tell him?"
He moves just as she drives her head into his stomach. "I told him a couple months before we came here, I had to send troops to drag you out of a ditch under fire and you yelled at me."
Then the fight really begins. Finnick's rarely angry during these, but now that he is, he has to admit he sees the appeal.
"No one needed to die saving me! If I couldn't make it out on my own, then that was the risk I took."
"While saving someone else!" Johanna punches him, hard enough to raise a bruise without doing any real damage.
"Which is exactly why I don't appreciate being interrogated about whether I'm going to be endangering everyone around me. I've done my best to keep everyone else out of danger, and here I am getting lectured about your decisions."
"You keep taking these risks. Rescuing kids, fine, but there was no need for you to be in District One in the first place."
"I don't understand why you're so dead set on criticizing me about that one." Finnick growls his frustration to hide the sting.
"I'm not ungrateful!" Johanna struggles, but he's got her immobilized. "I'm just trying to protect you from doing anything like that ever again."
"I get that, but why do you have to act like you wish I weren't here doing the things I do? I've never pulled that on you."
"I know." With one last, futile, wrench, Johanna signals him to release her. "But I've never pulled any of those crazy stunts on you either. If you want to have my back, you're welcome to. I've never insisted you leave me in a ditch or disappeared into enemy territory on you without backup."
"I do have your back," Finnick insists. "And if you end up in the arena, I'll have it there."
"If you end up in the arena, I'm not letting anyone kill you, including you." Not a promise. One hundred percent threat.
Who's heading behind enemy lines is announced at midnight. Each individual who was approved receives a summons to command.
They're taking four medics, and twenty-five military personnel. Four engineers have already set up shop at their destination camp. "It seems like a lot for a stealth mission," Rudder says, "but we need three separate teams: one to take out the outside defenses of the arena and create a breach if possible, and one to enter the arena and rescue the tributes, and one to remain behind and guard the camp, where command and engineering will be. If we can't penetrate the arena, of course, the second team won't be needed."
"Who's going to be on what team?" Brine asks.
"We'll decide that in the morning, when we've seen what the arena looks like. In the meantime, we're going to join the engineers at camp Spearhead. We move by night."
Rudder leads them to the edge of the main camp, where a fleet of hoverbikes is lined up to take them behind enemy lines. Each bike fits one person, two in a pinch, and can skim up to four feet above the ground.
Finnick runs his hand over the the handlebars of one. "Never seen these in person."
"They're useful in the mountains," Lyme says. "More discreet and maneuverable than a full-size hovercraft, but they deal with rugged terrain better than a wheeled vehicle."
"Where's Plutarch?" a voice asks. In the dim light, it takes a minute to place.
Then Johanna erupts. "No! No, you are not coming! Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to bring a damsel in distress? I'm not rescuing you! Oh, shit, I'm going to have to rescue you just to keep him from doing it-"
Lyme interrupts. "Peeta will remain in camp with the other noncombatants, protected just like the engineers and medics."
"You really think it's sane to risk him behind enemy lines? Am I alone here?"
"I'm going," Rudder points out. "And I'm far more important."
Finnick snickers, but has a perfectly bland face by the time Johanna whirls on him. She turns back to Rudder.
"You can protect yourself," she says contemptuously.
"But seeing that I'll be in camp, I'll be very disappointed in all of you if I have to." He pitches his voice to the team as a whole. "The destination is preprogrammed into your hoverbike. Wipe it by pressing this button here on your right handlebar if you're about to be captured."
Lyme distributes the suicide pills without comment. They've all been instructed in their use, and most have been accustomed to carry them for years now. Finnick hopes that if he has to use his, he gets to do it with adrenaline pumping through his blood.
"So where is Plutarch?" Peeta repeats his question.
"He's remaining behind to direct the troops," Lyme explains. "We're not putting all of our command eggs in one basket behind enemy lines."
"Just the victors?" Johanna asks pointedly.
"Like I said. Big family reunion," Finnick says with a wink.
Finnick's heart goes out to Annie and Cashmere, wherever they are, but then he swings his leg over his hoverbike and narrows his focus.
They end up without incident at a cave. It has two chambers, the inner one for work, the outer for a living space.
"Get some sleep," Lyme orders, when they dismount. "First thing in the morning, there'll be a briefing."
Finnick doesn't think he'll be able to obey, but for once he surprises himself. There are a million problems to solve, but he's not alone with them, and even better, Johanna's laying herself down beside him. He crashes almost immediately.
Only the incessant tossing and turning of Johanna beside him wakes him, in the dark of the night.
As soon as he's worked out why he's awake, Finnick shifts up on one elbow. "Can't sleep?" If she's having a flare-up, he'll help distract her.
"She's singing that damn song again," Johanna mutters, and turns onto her back. "Does she ever shut up?"
Finnick widens his attention to take in the sounds he'd been tuning out. Not far away, Katniss is crooning at Peeta. Soothing his nightmares or hers, or both. Finnick listens for a few seconds, then flinches. No, Johanna wouldn't want to hear about a man being hanged.
"Why's he here, anyway?"
"Katniss is under a lot of pressure, and she's alone. She deserves the moral support." Finnick's impressed that Peeta's traveling this far, given the state he was in the last time Finnick saw him. He hopes it means the boy's getting better.
"Meanwhile, you know any better songs about trees?" Finnick asks. Distraction it is, then, if for a different reason.
"Oh, I know plenty of words, but I can't carry a tune."
"Eh, I can't tell the difference." Finnick waves his hand dismissively. "I can't sing either."
"Oh, there's something Wonder Boy can't do?" she needles, making him laugh. "I hardly believe it."
Finnick defends himself. "It's not a survival skill."
"Not a survival skill!" Johanna chortles, and holds up a hand to high-five him. "I like it. If it were important, we'd have learned it by now. Very well." She grows more melancholy. "Here's one my grandmother used to sing."
All in a wood there grew a tree.
Her voice is low and tuneless, just loud enough to drown out Katniss's song and the memory of Johanna's father, and just soothing enough to convince Finnick's eyes to drift shut again.
The finest tree you ever did see.
Johanna's here. Finnick wants to reach out and put his hand on her back, offering moral support in return, but they're not quite there yet.
And the green leaves grew around, around, around.
No matter. She doesn't have to listen to Katniss, and he doesn't have to sleep alone.
And the green leaves grew around.
[A/N]: Johanna's grandmother's song is a traditional folk song, a variation of Roud 129, because I do not compose lyrics, not even a little bit.