9
It was clear from the outset that the 75th Hunger Games would be different from those that went before. In District 13, viewing was not mandatory as it was throughout the rest of Panem, but the Capitol broadcast was not censored and a large segment of the population followed the Games avidly. Knowing what was to come both from District 13's plans and from the known plans of the Capitol, 13's High Command was paying close attention, and they clustered together in a Command Center.
"Is our hovercraft in place?" asked Coin.
"Not yet." replied Boggs. "It will be dispatched the morning of Day 3."
"Such distances." said Coin. "And so long in the air?"
"Not a problem in terms of fuel." said Boggs.
"And just the one?"
"We can't significantly engage the enemy so far from home and hope to survive. It's an all or nothing thing, totally dependent on surprise, and with an extremely narrow window of opportunity. If one isn't enough, neither is everything we have. An enormous gamble. If we succeed we'll make history."
"Even if we don't succeed, we'll still make history. That's the problem with history."
"The mission goals are clear, but the specifics of how to accomplish them are largely at the Captain's discretion. Briefly stated, they'll arrive at the arena and circle it to drop sensors that will gather the data to tell them where to find the lightning zone. That's the first trial. Assuming they can do that without being detected, they'll proceed to the Capitol to pick up Plutarch and Haymitch, and whoever and whatever they'll be bringing along. Then they have to be back at the arena in time for Beetee's plan. Any way you play the schedule, it's going to be tight. The crew is very much on its own out there. We have some idea of the Capitol's plans. We have to assume that they have some idea of ours.
"If it were me on the Capitol side." continued Boggs, "and I suspected some outside interference might be in the works, I'd have fighters close to the arena, probably base them where the on-site construction administration is centered. It has the facilities."
"Detection begins to sound likely." said Coin.
"We've been over this before. Our activities at the area will all be carried out in full stealth mode, and we've developed some impressive technologies: new design, materials, and electronic shielding.. It's really all we've got. We hope that the arena's force field will have such a large electronic signature that it will further help to mask the presence of our craft. It's all just guesswork, hopefully informed guesswork. There's nothing more that we can do other than wait and see. The best hope we have is the Capitol's arrogance. If they suspect we're planning something, how certain will they be that any plan of ours cannot succeed?
"Of course 'full stealth mode' includes complete communications silence. Ultimately, except for the Capitol broadcast we'll be watching here, we won't know what's happening until well after it's all over. The whole thing is an immense risk."
At the start of the Games, Milo received his orders and passed them along to Commander Corel. The base went to highest alert. The munition stores were emptied as all the available hovercraft received full compliment of arms. All crews were on standby and at the highest peak of readiness. Hovercraft were dispatched to District 12 to pick up Thread and his Peacekeepers and deploy them around District 13.
"He can't have more than 200 men." said Corel. "How can he hope to make an impression on 13?"
"It's not a true assault." replied an exasperated Milo. "Think of them as noisemakers. You're deploying them just beyond 13's known sensor range. 13 won't know if there's a handful or a major force. They will know that they are practically surrounded. With the activity that they have no doubt noted around this base, we think they'll expect the worst and devote their attention to it. That frees us to devote our real attention to pacifying the districts."
"Who's watching 12?"
"There's still a small Peacekeeper presence there. The district is so cowed that so long as a handful of Peacekeepers are visible, there won't be any problems."
By the end of the second day of the Games, 16 of the 24 tributes had died.
At the Capitol outpost, Commander Corel was not happy. "Something strange is happening with these Games." he said. "There's something happening with the tributes that does not make sense. Not just the holding hands thing at the interviews, but in the arena itself. The game is not being played according to previous rules. Everdeen is not part of a pack, she's surrounded by a guard... there's a difference."
Milo replied, "Eight tributes died at the Cornucopia. Eight others have died since then, and I will point out to you that while 3 of those subsequent deaths have been at the hands of other tributes, the remaining 5 were killed by the arena. They were Capitol kills. Things are progressing as expected."
"What about those bastards in 13?" demanded Corel.
"You know what our plan is. You've been rehearsing it these long weeks. It is now in play, and you're ready. We don't know specifically what mischief has been planned for the arena but, like you, we feel that someone is up to something. Our engineers assure us that the force field is impregnable to anything other than a major onslaught, which would be suicidal."
Remus shook his head in disbelief at the notice of a Heads of Department meeting for the evening of the next day. The tension in 13 was so palpable you could cut it with a knife, but still they insisted on maintaining this pretense of normalcy. Evening meetings were unusual. That, in itself, indicated the preoccupation of 13's leaders with other matters. It didn't matter to him. Sitting at the desk in his office, he opened a drawer, took out a sock and stared at it. A sock, he thought. The fate of the nation might rest on this sock. He had put it in his desk the day he had hidden the explosives, the day after returning from District 6.
He had not dared to leave the explosives in his quarters. A laundry room close by provided the solution. It was larger than his sector currently needed, and a broken dryer had gone untended for months. Remus had gone to the room when returning from his office duties, his briefcase holding the lump of plastics. Finding the laundry deserted, he had stuffed the explosives into the vent behind the dryer. He had the sock with him then. If someone had come in on him, he would simply explain that it was one he had lost and he was checking the room to see if it might have fallen behind something.
He was doing the same thing now. What a relief that the room was again deserted. He reached into the vent and encountered... something. He turned pale, and suddenly felt sick. From the vent, he pulled a small wooden block, a child's toy. Some child had been playing around the vent! He reached in again, and there were the plastics. Imagine, he thought, if that kid had reached in just a few inches farther... He stuffed the package into his briefcase and hurried off to his quarters.
Day three of the Games saw Corel and Milo engrossed in the broadcast. Corel's concerns had not eased. There was something... off... about how these Games were unfolding.
"What is it with these buns?" asked Corel "That's 3 times this group has been gifted with 24 buns from District 3. You've seen Finnick... and Beetee. You've seen how careful they are to be certain of the count and to be certain of the district. There's more there than sharing. Something's happening. They have some kind of plan. Who is behind these gifts?"
"You can be sure the gifts are being investigated." said Milo. "I don't doubt it's a message being sent. It won't do them any good.
"It will be interesting if Beetee's plan works." he continued, "If it does, only the group around Everdeen will remain. We'll see how they react then... all the remaining tributes together in one small area. Will it be a blood bath? Will they stand defiant? Either works from the Capitol perspective. It's proceeding nicely. A bit of drama doesn't hurt at all. When the Games wrap tomorrow, the result will be entirely satisfactory. The Mockingjay will be destroyed and, after your assault, District 13 will be in complete disarray."
Tensions were peaking in District 13. Their plan to free the tributes was scheduled for that midnight, arena time, and seemed to be progressing smoothly. The rescue hovercraft had launched just as the day was dawning. Boggs was satisfied by reports that 13's tracking and sensor arrays had barely been able to detect it.
In the Command Center, Coin asked, "Are you sure they're getting the message?" as a silver parachute delivered a second group of buns to the tribute pack in the arena.
"Yes." said Boggs. "You can see Finnick and Beetee assessing the delivery. The question is: will the Capitol allow Beetee to attempt his plan? You can bet they're conferring on what effect it might have."
"He used electricity to win his previous Games." replied Coin. "What he's doing now is not out of character. Of course, they think he's only trying to kill other tributes. I think people will be curious to see if it works. So will we, but for somewhat different reasons."
"Now," said Coin, switching topics, "what is the situation with the base?"
Boggs shook his head. "They've readied their fleet for action, and now we're getting reports of troop movements at our border."
"We'll go to highest alert." said Coin "Noncombatants to shelters, reservists to draw weapons and be on call, active troops deployed in a perimeter beyond the fence. Full lock down. Deploy gunships to the perimeter, tree top level and sight shielded."
"Whatever is happening will happen very soon." said Boggs. "A preemptive strike on the base might be in order. Catch them on the ground."
"No." said Coin. "Our outposts aren't equipped for any kind of attack. The only means we have are hovercraft and manpower. We can't risk our hovercraft. We haven't the manpower to take the fight to them. They will have to bring it to us. They've created a threat on our border. We can only maintain a defensive posture"
"Without testing the threat, we can't know its scope, and we're not going to know until they make their move. The hovercraft we dispatched this morning encountered no problems."
"We'll wait." said Coin. "We'll go to our scheduled meeting, give the Heads a brief breakdown of the situation and announce the steps we're taking."
It was a faltering meeting from the start. Everyone seemed preoccupied, directionless. The lateness of the hour didn't help. No one showed any interest in discussing mundane issues. Coin gave it up for a lost cause and went straight to the core issue. By the time she had completed her summary, the people in attendance sat staring at her like deer caught in the headlights. She looked at the staring faces.
"It's a lot to digest." she said. She sat, drumming her fingers on the table. "I'll tell you what: why don't we take a short break to absorb all this? We'll reconvene in half an hour and, at the very least, go over the procedures for the coming days." She motioned to Boggs and the two of them got up and left the room together. They wandered down towards the nearest cafeteria, noting several others leaving after them, intent on errands of their own.
Remus didn't know what to think. The explosives were in the briefcase sitting on his lap. The timer had been set. The plastics had packed neatly into the top and bottom of the case, There was room between, and he had tossed in some papers for show. His intent had been to pull the papers at some point and make a show of having the wrong ones, excuse himself from the meeting to get the right ones, leaving his briefcase behind. Now the meeting was disbanded and the timer was ticking. True, the explosion was set for about a half hour away, but would that be time enough? There was nothing he could do. He left the meeting and headed in the direction of his office.
Coin and Boggs sat in the cafeteria over cups of hot coffee. Two of the other attendees sat at a nearby table, immersed in low conversation. But for them, the room was deserted.
Coin said, "It's like the calm before the storm." Boggs only grunted.
They sat in silence awhile until, by mutual accord, they rose to return to their duties.
It was scant hours before midnight would be upon the 75th Hunger Games.
As they left the cafeteria, a runner approached gasping out a message. "Verbal communication from the perimeter." he reported. "Small arms fire heard but not seen. No indication of troop engagement on our part, all our groups have reported and all's quiet." Boggs thanked the soldier and dismissed him.
"Now what could that mean?" he puzzled. "If we're not shooting, who is?"
The two continued towards the Command Center. Lost in their thoughts.
"Wait a minute." said Boggs, stopping short in his tracks. "What if it's Nomes?"
"Nomes!" exclaimed Coin, "Why would those creatures attack a Peacekeeper force?"
"They wouldn't." replied Boggs excitedly. "They wouldn't interfere with a Peacekeeper force of any magnitude, it would be foolish, but they would attack a small group if they were confident they could beat them.
"Don't you see what this means?" he asked Coin. "The Peacekeeper line must be very thin if Nomes feel they can attack."
"It's a supposition." said Coin "How can you be sure it's Nomes?"
"Well it's not us." responded Boggs. "Who else could it be? A mutiny in the Peacekeepers? We need more info." The two hurried towards the Command Center.
The briefcase bomb exploded just as they rounded the approach corridor corner. The Center was instantly demolished. Masonry and plaster dust ricocheted down the corridor. The force of the explosion knocked them backwards and debris battered them like shotgun pellets. The lights went out and black, acrid smoke filled the air. Live electrical wires sparked down from broken light fixtures and water gushed from fractured lines. Boggs grabbed Coin by the arm and stumbling, pulled her free of the debris and back down the corridor. She struggled to her feet.
"Are you alright?" she rasped.
"I seem to be." he replied. "You?"
They were both covered in dust but apparently whole. They coughed, gasped, retched in the foul air.
"What happened?"
Emergency lights flickered on around them.
"Stay here," said Boggs, "I'll take a look."
He crept down the corridor towards the source of the explosion until he reached a gaping hole in the wall. Nothing remained of the Command Center. Walls had been punched out on two sides, a gaping hole had been knocked through the floor, and the ceiling was fractured. He stumbled his way back to Coin.
"The Command Center has been destroyed. It's just gone. The explosion came from within. It must have been sabotage."
"Relocate operations to the sector B Center." said Coin. She activated her communicuff and typed in a series of commands. Emergency crews were converging on the scene and soon the smoke began to clear as fires were extinguished and foul air was pumped from the site into District 13's exhaust system.
"We're leaving here." said Coin. "Leave it to the cleanup crews."
Together they took a circuitous route to the new center of operations.
"Was anyone in there when the explosion went off?" asked Boggs.
"People are checking in now." replied Coin, glancing at her communicuff. "I've changed my mind." she said, "We'll convene in the cafeteria closest to the Sector B Command Center. We won't enter that Center until it has been checked by anti-bomb personnel. I've given that highest priority."
The small group of command personnel assembled in the cafeteria as medics completed their examinations of Coin and Boggs. Though both were badly shaken, neither had sustained serious injury. Minor cuts and scrapes were treated, and they would surely be sore for days following.
A head count of the command group was taken. Three people remained unaccounted for. "Find them." said Coin.
Reports began to trickle in from the site of the explosion. The situation was under control. Water, electricity and ventilation had all been successfully rerouted. The site was being sealed off, including the levels above and below. There were injured on those levels, but no dead. Human remains had been found at the bombsite and samples were being sent to Special Defense for DNA analysis. A report came in from the bomb squad giving the all clear on the Sector B Command Center and the group moved there to re-establish necessary communications and to review the situation.
"An act of sabotage." said Coin. "Unbelievable!"
"Yes," agreed Boggs, "and we'll get to the bottom of it. But it doesn't change the District status and we need to act on that."
"Begin the alert." Coin ordered, and a loud beeping was soon sounding in the hallways.
Boggs looked at her. "I think the troop movements around us are a feint, a diversion. I think the force is small and only meant to instill fear and indecision. I suggest we send gunships to test the strength between us and the base, and if it proves to be weak, we attack the base."
"This is based on that report of gunfire we received before the explosion?" asked Coin.
"Yes, and the hovercraft launched this morning had no problems."
"But the hovercraft has our latest developments in stealth. It's not much to go on."
"We need to test the strength of their force one way or another." replied Boggs, "We need to know what we're up against. It's a question of acceptable losses."
Coin sighed. "Any objections?" she asked the group.
There were no replies.
"Make it so." she said.
Orders sent two gunships to test the strength of the Capitol line.
In the meantime, reports came back from Special Defense identifying the DNA of two victims in the Command Center explosion. The person unaccounted for was Remus Thread. "Find him!" growled Coin.
Within seconds, loud speakers throughout 13 were announcing, "Remus Thread to report to Command Center, Sector B. Anyone knowing the whereabouts of Remus Thread to contact Special Defense." Moments later, a photograph of Remus was displayed on every video monitor in the district.
When the break was called at the Command Center, Remus mumbled something about missing papers and departed, apparently for his office. His briefcase remained behind. No one gave it a second thought. It was just one more of his innumerable idiosyncrasies.
Remus, of course, had no intention of going to his office. The bomb was timed to detonate in just over half an hour, hopefully long enough for the group to reconvene, but not long enough for his absence be noted.
He hustled through empty corridors towards the exit tunnel. The Peacekeepers were aware of its entrance point, he had revealed it to them himself. Milo had assured him that they would be waiting for him to emerge, and would take him immediately to his brother. It was a snap. What a bunch of suckers! So high and mighty and morally superior. Weren't they in for a surprise.
He was relieved to find the tunnel bulkhead sealed, but unguarded. Remus opened it and entered.
The tunnel was long, and Remus could not be certain that pursuit would lag too far behind, but he had one more surprise for the high and mighty. From his pocket he took the final small package of plastic explosives. He set down the explosives and then activated the proximity sensor several yards back down the tunnel. The end of this little adventure was in sight.
Remus was well aware of the sensors and cameras hidden around the exterior entrance to the tunnel. Who cared? Once out in the open, he would be in the hands of the Peacekeepers – on his way back to the Capitol, clothed in glory.
Special Defense reported, "We believe Remus Thread is attempting to exit the district through covert tunnel 7. Troops are in pursuit."
"Seal the tunnel!" ordered Coin.
"They can't." murmured Boggs. "The outside exit is designed to keep people from getting in, not from getting out."
Coin fired him a look. She sat, tapping her fingertips on the tabletop and looking at Boggs. "What next?"
Again, Special Defense broke in. "Remus Thread has emerged from the tunnel to the exterior of the district. He has been seen on our surveillance cameras. The pursuit has ended as well. We have one dead and several wounded. An explosion in the tunnel caused a partial collapse."
"That bastard." said Coin.
"He's beyond our perimeter." said Boggs.
Remus emerged from the tunnel into the cool night air. He set off in his usual direction as instructed by Milo. He was just becoming concerned that he had missed the Peacekeepers when several, dressed in woodland camouflage, emerged from the dark and ordered him to stop. He identified himself, but they seemed unimpressed. They took him in charge and led him off into the bush at a rate he found difficult to maintain.
It took more than an hour of relentless, forced marching, stumbling, struggling, before they emerged onto a broad expanse of bare rock where a group of soldiers stood clustered. Remus was exhausted.
"Where's the Captain?" asked one of the soldiers.
"Off hunting savages." a sergeant replied. "Not enough we have to deal with 13; now we're being attacked from behind by these animals."
He gave Remus an appraising stare.
"This is the one, is it? Why isn't he cuffed?"
"Now wait..." began a breathless Remus, but the sergeant interrupted.
"Shuddup or you'll regret it. Get cuffs on him and put him over there." He nodded towards the edge of the clearing.
Remus had his arms forced behind his back and handcuffs tightly clamped around his wrists. He was manhandled across the clearing and knocked off his feet near a dead tree. He started to protest, but the sergeant was right there, his face inches from Remus' own.
"Shut. Up." said the sergeant, grabbing Remus' jaw in one gloved hand and slamming his head back against the tree. "Or you'll regret it."
Remus subsided in terror. Just wait until Romulus gets here, he thought, but he said nothing.
The night enclosed them and, despite his situation, Remus felt himself dozing off.