I walk through the halls of the Presidential Mansion back in the Capitol, but everything seems different…darker and scarier. The walls of the hallway are lined with massive portraits of Coriolanus in various heroic poses. I hear the familiar sounds of Caesar Flickerman giving the day's wrap up of the arena. I make my way down the hall toward the flickering light of a television set.
I enter a huge room lined with exotic wooden paneling and decorated with mounted animal heads. An antique hand-woven rug lies on the hardwood floor. I scan across the room before freezing in terror as I see President Snow laughing in joy as he sits in his massive leather armchair. He is balancing his most beloved treasure and heir apparent, my sister, on his knee. She is eleven years old and squeals with delight as he describes the images on his giant television screen to her. I look over and see a young Katniss, her face covered in terror, as she dodges fireball after fireball shot at her through the forest.
Suddenly, both Coriolanus and Venus fall silent and turn directly at me. I cannot move as my grandfather's snake-like eyes burn into my soul.
"Oh, there you are, my little Ares," he says condescendingly as if he's speaking to a little child. It's only then that I realize that I am young child, two feet tall and barely able to stand on my wobbly legs. "You know this isn't for you," he says with an evil grin on his face. "This is only for real Snows to enjoy." I try to respond to his comment but cannot speak one word. "Well," he says as he and Venus both start laughing uncontrollably. "What do you have to say for yourself?" I realize that my mouth feels strange. I reach inside and instead of my tongue, I feel only jagged scars. I gasp in horror and collapse onto the thick wool of the carpet. Their laughter slices me like a thousand knives as blood starts pouring from my tongue-less mouth. "Don't worry, I know just how to deal with naughty little children like you. Don't you remember your Aunt Medea?" Wherever my blood hits the carpet, a thick blue vapor begins to bubble and rise. Soon, I am enveloped in a burning cloud of Shiver. My tiny legs and arms begin to cramp and writhe. Agonizing pain grips my body and I begin to choke and gag on a mix of blood and saliva. The laughing continues as I start to convulse…
I bolt awake with a stifled scream in my bed at The Three Foxes. Sunlight is already streaming in from the window and I catch my breath to the sounds of the Londoners below in the street. I quickly realize that both I and my sheets are soaking wet with sweat. I reluctantly climb to my feet and walk across the cold wooden floor to the washbasin in the corner. I dip my hands in the water and wash the tears and streaks of perspiration away from my face. Obviously, I still haven't quite recovered from the meeting yesterday.
Suddenly, my video terminal starts beeping on the desk.
"Funny," I think to myself. "Lizzy wasn't supposed to call today." I walk over and accept the call.
"You know, Ares," President Holmes' image says to me as she appears on the screen. "I don't know whether I need to control you more or just keep letting you go on you little rants. That was a very impressive little speech to everyone yesterday." I just look down and mutter:
"Good morning to you too, Madame President. It appears you've caught me at an awkward time."
"So it seems, General," she replies flippantly. "I'm glad to see you're keeping in shape over there." It is only then I realize that I'm still in my underwear. I quickly stand up and grab a shirt and pair of pants off my dresser. "Still having trouble sleeping?" she says with genuine concern but somehow I still find it insulting.
"And just how did you know I was having trouble sleeping?" I ask pulling my legs into my trousers.
"Because as much respect and care I have for you, Ares, I still have a job to do. I wouldn't have let you go on this assignment if I didn't have a clear picture of your mental stability."
"That's a really diplomatic way of saying you've been watching me, isn't it? That shrink who talked to me last year assured me that my sessions would be completely confidential."
"Who said that I used that shrink…" I slam my hand down on the desk as I realize who she's talking about. "Luckily, your wife understands what the phrase 'professional opinion' really means."
"I'll have to have a talk with her…" I say trailing off.
"No, you really don't," President Holmes says to me with blunt seriousness. "She has a job to do just like Sergeant Sawbleyde…oh…I mean Sergeant Hightower. That's still gonna take some getting used to." It all becomes clear to me.
"So, you asked Hatchet to watch over my body and Lizzy to watch over my mind?"
"Yes," President Holmes says. "That's one way of putting it." I open my mouth to say something, but President Holmes cuts me off. "All of us care about you, Ares, just in different ways. Lizzy loves you as her wife, Olivia respects you as her leader, and I…"
"And you?" I say curiously.
"I…" she pauses cautiously as if she isn't sure how much she wants to reveal. "I feel responsible for you. I've watched you grow up from a boy into a man. My government turned you into a weapon, and I couldn't live with myself if I became a president of Panem who destroyed a life because it was advantageous to me." I lean back in my chair and smile.
"Well, thank you, Driva, but I assure you, I don't do this because of my loyalty to you. I consider paying it a personal debt to the nation."
"That's the problem, General. There's something that us old veterans of the Revolution didn't understand. We were so desperate for justice that we didn't realize it wasn't your debt to pay."
"Well, it is now," I say firmly before changing the subject. "Madame President, I don't think you called this morning just for personal revelations. What's up?"
"I just received word. Three days…" she says. I nod in understanding.
Three days later I stand with Angus on a cliff overlooking the Welsh coastline. It is a beautiful morning and the sound of waves crashing on the rocks below mixes with the breeze rolling through the endless grassy field around us. I look over to Hatchet, Ratchet, Doc, and Tiller all reunited again and sitting on an outcropping of rocks laughing and joking with each other.
"You know, Ares, It's very beautiful here, but I hope there's a better reason than a bit of fresh air that you dragged me all the way to bloody Cardiff from London."
"Oh there is," I say before nervously looking down at time on my communicuff. "They're almost an hour late…" I think in frustration. "Not a good start."
Hatchet walks over and pulls me aside.
"Sir, I thought you said they were coming?" she quietly whispers into my ear.
"They are," I reply back. "Just have a little faith."
Suddenly, the communicuff on Angus' wrist comes to life.
"Sir!" Maggie screams at Angus from Tower Control in London, "They're coming right at you! They're requesting to enter our waters. Thousands of them!" Angus jumps and screams back at Maggie.
"Who do you mean? The TECs?"
"No Sir, Don't you see them?"
"See who?" I tap Angus on the shoulder and point out toward the western ocean.
"Remember last year when you said it would take an army to defeat the TECs?"
"Cut the shite, Laddie," Angus says angrily. "What's going on?"
"Look," I say with a huge grin. Angus stares out to the horizon and sees them: dozens of armored warships escorting hundreds of freighters and transports. Angus looks at me in utter shock.
"You mean?"
"They're here." The massive fleet stretches from horizon to horizon and steams closer and closer to the British coastline. I see the flagship, bristling with massive cannons, in the lead. I pull out a radio from my pocket. "United Districts of Panem Ship Polaris, This is Mockingjay. I have you in sight. Prepare for rendezvous with the big three on marked beachhead."
"Mockingjay, this is UDPS Polaris. Acknowledged and awaiting your beacon."
"Sergeant Hightower!" I shout to the team. They have all climbed to the top of the rock outcropping and are gazing at the gargantuan convoy headed right toward us.
"Which Sergeant Hightower?" Ratchet screams back with a chuckle.
"Which one to do you think, Grease Monkey? Pop the beacon!" Ratchet pulls something out of his backpack and climbs to the tip of the rocks. He points the infrared beacon toward the flagship and hits the switch.
"Polaris, Mockingjay," I say speaking into my radio again. "Beacon is alight. Come down and join us."
"Finally," Hatchet says to us sounding relieved. "I'll have people to talk to that I can actually understand."
"Roger, we copy the beacon. Big Three en route."
I pull two pairs of binoculars from a bag at my feet and hand one to Angus. We look out and see a squadron of attack hovercraft lifting into the sky from one of the transport ships. Another transport hovercraft lifts off from the rear deck of the Polaris. Half of the attack hovercraft begin to escort the transport hovercraft while the rest fly straight to the beach. They circle only a few hundred feet over our heads making sure the landing zone is clear. Angus stares up at them, still overcome by amazement.
"I've never seen so many ships and hovercraft in my life…" he stammers. "I didn't even know it was possible."
"Panem answered the call, my friend," I say slapping him on the shoulder. "Now you see why it took so long."
"Aye," is the only response he can muster.
As the transport hovercraft nears the cliffs, one of the escort attack ships breaks away and touches down in the grass a few yards away from us. We lean down and shield our eyes as its powerful engines kick up sand and debris all around us. The transport lands next and both shut down their turbines simultaneously.
The cockpit dome of the attack hovercraft peels open and the pilot climbs down the side of the fuselage to the ground. She pulls off her oxygen mask and helmet and reveals her face. She is an athletic woman in her early forties with jet black hair, deep brown eyes, and olive skin. Her flight suit has golden stars on the epaulets. She walks over the transport as the ramp drops and two more men walk out. One is wearing the black uniform of a UDP rear admiral. The naval service badge on his left jacket pocket, a massive golden Mockingjay perched on a pair of crossed tridents, gleams at us in the sun. His pale skin, red hair, and freckles scream District 4. The other man wears a uniform very similar to my own. I recognize my old friend immediately.
The three of them walk over to me and Angus and salute sharply. I return the gesture with a smile.
"Air Brigadier Valderoun, Rear Admiral Flannigan, Brigadier LaSalle," I say nodding to each one of them individually. "Welcome to Britannia. May I introduce the Chief of the Britannia War Council, Angus McFadden." I gesture to Angus who can do nothing more than stretch out his hand in friendship. I can see this very pleasant surprise has left him speechless and the three of them are a bit confused. "He doesn't talk much," I say with a grin which immediately breaks the tension.
"Now, you know that's not true at all, Laddie!" Angus says breaking into joyous laughter. "Welcome to Britannia indeed! Hope you all are ready for a fight."
"Count on it," Brigadier LaSalle says to Angus. "It's good to see you again, Sir," he says turning to me. "I suppose I owe you a 'thank you' for this he says flashing the new ranks on his epaulets to me.
"Well, I may have dropped a few hints to President Holmes over the past few months, but you earned that yourself." He smiles back at me in gratitude.
Air Brigadier Valderoun takes a look around.
"So, this is Britannia?" she says in the soft tones of her District 1 accent. "I've always wanted to see it in person."
"Oh trust me," I say, "You haven't seen anything yet."
