Before the Music Dies Legacy

ANT Companion: The Place of White and Gold

Chapter Four: A Spy (Or, A Family)

As Minister, Jack Brooks was very effective, if, despite his election, slightly under-supported. He didn't have the same beliefs as Cygnus had, though said nothing that pleased the conspirators, either. Fourteen was flourishing, and with that progress Jack was happy. So, he said, it was time for them to think of taking action once again.

There were protests. Not openly against him, but most normal citizens had settled into their new, Capitol-free lives and were content with that. The rest of the government feared another war so soon would be the end of them. The conspirators still wanted an alliance with the districts instead of such a solo, destructive effort.

Jack Brooks heard none of it.

Instead he scoured the Records to put together an elite strategy-devising team that would produce plans for spies and a real military, provisions for war. It would be time-consuming and taxing, but, he promised the state, rewarding.

. . . . .

Capitol Hovercraft 495 :: 0400 Hours

Location: -800 Kilometers from Fourteen Border

Passengers: Leigh Fletcher, Slade Fletcher, Volare Alas (Pilot)

Mission: Deliver passengers to state.

. . .

There was something to be said of children raised in District Two, though no one was sure quite what that was. It instilled bravery, courage—or maybe just bloodlust. Manipulation, lying, cheating, doing anything to win, they were all just part of the mindset.

Leigh and Slade Fletcher were no exception to this.

They were always called loyal, no matter what they did, and subordinate. When the Capitol's secret military base in Two made the whole district a target in the Dark Days, Fourteen attempted to raze it to the ground. They nearly succeeded. In the one month the siblings were both fifteen, a missile hit the end of their street, throwing flames down the road and into their home, running up the north wall of the house as their parents yelled for them to run.

They fumbled their way out of a first-story kitchen window, and ran for their school, one of the shelters. For one second, Leigh turned, watched their home reduce itself to ash, sparks jumping through the smoky night air. Her brother pulled her forwards, and they never did go back, and their parents never did get out of the house. But they'd done as they were told.

Then there were the practices, secret though they were encouraged. After the war ended, several times on the verge of death and getting desperate, they sheltered in a cave made of rubble from what had once been a storage building near the train station. Near them, they found, a solider who had stepped out of the fight early on was hiding out the days in a little hut—if you could even call it that—made of mud and tree branches and old plastic tarps. He was the one who began those practices, salvaging weapons and even makeshift ones from all the wreckage, mostly dull knives once used in kitchens. He taught them how to survive, how to kill, how to defend themselves if they were ever going to be reaped. Others began to stay and watch. The mountainous area behind the hut became the first thing District Two ever had resembling a Training Center.

They were never reaped, though one boy in the group was, and they didn't care to watch his death, one at the hands of a former ally, securing him in a trap dangling from a tree as an acidic flood began to rise.

Out of the Reaping, without tesserae and only low-paying quarry jobs, Slade announced: "I'm gonna be a Peacekeeper."

"So am I," his sister answered.

"You can't be a Peacekeeper," he almost laughed, watching the look on Leigh's face. "You're not old enough."

"I'm not a full year younger than you," she shot back.

"But—well, since when have you ever seen a woman Peacekeeper, huh?"

"Three at the last Reaping. And we passed one just yesterday."

"You don't know anything about the job."

"Neither do you."

The two argued for well into an hour, until Slade relented. "Fine. So be a damned Peacekeeper and see how long you last. I wish you luck."

They did enlist, and their squad commanders were impressed with both of their progress. They were allowed to stay in the district as they wished, a compromise for the lack of funding that could earn them raises. They were as competitive as those strong tributes nicknamed "Careers", with each other especially.

At twenty-two and twenty-one, they were offered positions in the Capitol. Guards, one of their superiors said, waving a hand. Probably graveyard shifts at first, for them high-up people. Y'know, the politicians, Gamemakers, whoever. Maybe one o' ya 'll get lucky, land a place near the grand President himself. They accepted. Slade was indeed soon in the Capitol Building, pulling his sister in. Over two years later, the President called them both in one day and said that he had found them a purpose.

. . .

There were many slip-ups in their integration into Fourteen. Pieces of their story they didn't quite agree on, questions not answered fast enough as they were thoroughly searched, letting the Capitol accents they'd acquired affect a word here and there. To the Minister, Jack, and to his Deputy, Deneb, and in fact the Representatives and all of Fourteen, they were runaways from District Nine. Fourteen supporters from the Dark Days that had just escaped and found them once again.

In reality, they were spies. In eight weeks they were to return to the point the hovercraft had secretly, invisibly dropped them off at, go back to the Capitol with their reports on Fourteen while giving the state as little information as possible. The President had personally advised concealing the truth of the war's effects, namely the Hunger Games.

Jack was pleased at the idea they still had support in Panem, citizens that might be weeded out before their attack. He gave orders for them to stay and gave them both accounts and Records and quarters and jobs in Sector Eight, Product Distribution.

. . . . .

Oblivious to the Capitol's infiltration, Deneb absorbed the arguing going on in a meeting of the strategy team. The debate was useless, he thought, as nothing was known for sure. Everyone was winding themselves up about whether or not the Capitol had rebuilt their important structures in the same locations, while he pondered if Jack would ever work up the nerve for an actual attack. Most of him wished he wouldn't, and was afraid of the other man's confidence and even eagerness.

He put in his thoughts as the conversation became more civil, in a way he hoped wouldn't invite further conflict. As if it's avoidable.

. . . . .

The Fletcher siblings took note of everything in Fourteen in their Record books, nothing overly conspicuous but everything still detailed, not even hinting at their real past in case the government would search for it. They planned to take them back to the Capitol.

Slade became the worrier for one of the first times, thinking of what their fate might be if Fourteen were ever to find the truth about them, trying not to imagine the scenarios that came to mind. He waited for the date of their departure with bated breath, heartbeat constantly rapid. And Leigh takes too many risks, he would think on a sleepless night. What if…?

He was being ridiculous, questioning even his own sister's loyalties, the one he'd grown up with all his life. Fourteen was making him paranoid and jumpy and afraid, and he didn't like it one bit. For the first time he found himself wishing he had his sister's subtlety in her worries, the ability to focus on something else.

. . . . .

Jack became a more and more frequent visitor to those tactic meetings, several times bringing in new members for the group. One was Lance Casimir, who had formerly run against Jack to be the Sector Two Representative and failed. He had fought in the Dark Days, making him instantly a respected and welcomed strategist.

It was the second mistake Jack made in that time period.

Lance was still one of the conspirators.

. . . . .

The Fletchers would become the first and last spies to successfully get in and out of Fourteen, leaving the state, at the discovery of their absence, outraged and more on-guard than ever. Questions began to fly, the trial rates went up at the violent outbursts of, "Why? Why?! How did you let this happen? How?!"

There was a secret to their success undiscovered. District Two and Fourteen weren't all that different. The Fletchers were the only spies ever from the second district, the only ones ever really able to be convincing. One day, they became their roles.

One day, they disappeared.

. . . . .

Author's Note: And now we are reminded that the Capitol is still involved with things…. Also, since the last chapter, there have been updates to the Place of White and Gold page—character profiles plus more images. beforethemusicdieslegacy -dot- webs -dot- com/placeofwhiteandgold -dot- htm. Please check out the page, leave a review with your thoughts, and may the odds be ever in your favor.