CHAPTER 25
PART I
It seemed to me that I had just fallen asleep when the door buzzer began to sound insistently.
I groaned and forced my eyes open, squinting at the harsh green display of the digital clock. It was almost 3 A.M. I called out, "Just a minute!" as I fumbled for the bedside switch, squinting again when the ceiling panels blazed to life and harsh fluorescent light flooded my quarters. I paused for a moment, as my hand reached out and brushed the empty spot on the narrow bed where Katniss would normally be sleeping, and then forced myself to concentrate on the task of attaching my prosthetic leg and pulling on a pair of shorts that I had carelessly tossed into a corner of the room.
Katniss had moved back in with her mother and sister following our latest "confrontation" regarding her willing assignment to the "Star Squad." She had given me some lame excuse about not wanting to be distracted during her training, but I knew better. Katniss was angry – angry at me for confronting her, and quite possibly angry at herself for impulsively signing up for a glorified suicide mission.
I was angry also, but that didn't prevent me from missing her warmth as she slept next to me.
I was finally able to stumble to the door, stubbing my big toe on my remaining foot in the process. I slid the door open with a muffled curse, revealing a grim-faced Lieutenant Jackson standing on the other side.
"Emergency meeting in Command," she said without preamble. "Ten minutes."
She turned to go. "Wait a minute! What kind of 'emergency?'" I asked.
She paused and glanced back at me over her shoulder. "I don't know. Boggs' orders." She looked me up and down. "You might want to wear something more substantial than shorts. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to roust Abernathy and Trinket."
I watched Jackson hurry down the passageway and then ducked back into my quarters to change into a coverall. As I dressed, I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. There could only be one reason why Boggs would call an emergency meeting so late. I was convinced that he was going to deploy the Star Squad.
I've never been so relieved to be wrong as I was that night.
The conference room was jam-packed. Katniss was sitting across from me, sandwiched in between Finnick Odair and Cashmere. I fully expected her to ignore me and was surprised when she met my eye and gave me a quick little half-smile, one corner of her mouth twitching upwards. I took that to be a good sign – if she was being deployed, she probably would have gone to a lot of effort to ignore me, assuming, of course, that she would even be attending the meeting in the first place.
I thought about going over to talk to her, but I never got the opportunity. At that moment, Boggs entered the conference room.
He took his place at the head of the table as the buzz of conversation disappeared. It was then that I noticed another officer had accompanied him into the room and was now standing patiently just behind and to the left of the chair occupied by Boggs. "I'll get right to the point," Boggs said as he glanced around the room. "Something's happening in the Capitol." He turned to the officer behind his chair. "Lieutenant? Please tell everyone here what you told me."
The lieutenant shifted uncomfortably and cleared her throat loudly. "Yes, sir," she said nervously. "I was the duty officer in Signals Intelligence tonight. We monitor communications in and out of the Capitol. About two hours ago, routine Capitol transmissions suddenly stopped. As a rule, there's usually a lot of traffic sent in the clear, even at this time of night. And tonight, all routine traffic suddenly came to a complete halt. The only transmissions that we're picking up are sporadic coded military traffic."
"And, before anyone asks," Boggs added, "the code they're using is new. Our intel folks are working on cracking it, but –"
"Colonel," Beetee asked, "any speculation or theories as to what may be going on in the Capitol?"
Boggs shrugged. "With Marcellus Snow as Acting President, who knows? It may be an internal shake-up. Or, they may be on the verge of launching a desperation offensive against our forces."
"Or," Haymitch drawled, "maybe Coriolanus Snow died."
The room fell silent.
Boggs finally broke the silence. "We just don't know," he said, and then added firmly, "and it's counter-productive to engage in idle speculation." He glanced at everyone in the room pointedly. "One other thing. Reports from District Ten state that Peacekeepers all up and down their lines have disengaged."
"You mean, they've all quit fighting?" Haymitch asked.
Boggs nodded. "The front in District Ten was the most active. Even during the past few weeks of relatively light activity, General Beck has reported that intermittent sniping and mortar attacks have all but disappeared." Boggs paused for a moment before adding heavily, "Of course, Beck wants to use this lull to immediately launch his own offensive."
"What about our operatives inside the Capitol?" Haymitch asked. "Any word from them?"
Boggs glanced at Plutarch, who replied with a single, terse word. "No."
Haymitch snorted derisively. "All right. All we know is the Capitol decided to clam up and stop talkin'. No one knows what's goin' on, and still the powers-that-be – that's you, Boggs – decided that we all needed to be rousted outta our beds for – what, exactly?"
Boggs took a deep breath. "In light of the sudden communications blackout in the Capitol, I've decided to place the Star Squad on immediate alert-to-deploy." He turned towards Jackson. "Lieutenant, you are to assemble your command in the East Hangar thirty minutes from now. Until I give the order to either deploy or stand down, the Star Squad shall remain on standby in the East Hangar, ready to deploy on fifteen minutes' notice."
I stole a glance at Katniss, who was busily examining her fingernails while studiously avoiding making eye contact with me, and then back at Boggs, who was still speaking. "Plutarch, alert Messalla and his crew that they are to immediately report to the East Hangar."
Plutarch nodded. "Yes, sir."
Boggs scanned the room, his eyes missing nothing. "That's it for now, people. You have your orders. Execute them."
We all rose to our feet and watched, silently, as Boggs gathered up his notes, both paper and electronic, and left the conference room. We remained silent until the door clanged shut behind Boggs, and then the room erupted in a cacophony of sound as everyone talked at once – trying to digest the events playing out not only here, but in a city over three thousand kilometers away.
The only thing that mattered to me, of course, was to be able to have a few moments alone with Katniss – but she disappeared almost as soon as Boggs did, hurrying away with her fellow Star Squad members to their scheduled assembly in the East Hangar. I tried to catch up with her, only to be intercepted by Plutarch, who had apparently decided that he needed that very moment to speak to me about recording a new propo.
Right now, none of that mattered. All I wanted to do was to somehow get access to the East Hangar and talk to Katniss before she received the order to board a stealth hovercraft and fly to the Capitol to die.
PART II
"All right," Minister-General Antonius said tiredly, "we've bought ourselves some time. Exactly how much time is anyone's guess."
"Antonius," Minister Quintus Blackstone replied, "we have three factors working in our favor. We control communications. Your Peacekeeper commanders in the field have, so far, not challenged our stand-down orders. Finally, Commander Servius has been invaluable. Without him, and his Peacekeepers, you and I would have a coup without muscle."
"Time will tell," Antonius said sourly. "In the morning, when Marcellus Snow awakens, and learns that you are no longer sitting in your cell –"
"There is that," Blackstone conceded. "And it's not just Snow that we have to deal with. There's Hammersmith, as well."
"The puppet-master," Antonius added, a note of disgust in his voice. "Our esteemed Minister of District Affairs has his own personal security, as does our Acting President. And that presents a different problem. These people are not Peacekeepers, which means –"
"- their loyalty rests with their employers, and not to the Peacekeeper's Oath," Blackstone finished slowly. He rubbed one hand over his face. "Congratulations, Antonius. You've managed to throw a very effective damper on my previous enthusiasm."
"With all due respect, Minister," Antonius pointed out, "it's my job to look at everything that could go wrong. It's not my job to blow smoke up your ass." He shuddered slightly at the recollection of the mutts that were, at this moment, caged up in anticipation of Blackstone's execution. He knew that, if this coup failed, he would join Blackstone in being torn apart for the entertainment of the Acting President and his cabinet.
"Congratulations, Antonius," Blackstone said wryly. "You do your job well."
"I do have one piece of good news, however," Antonius continued. "I've arranged to have your wife brought here. I figured it was the safest place for her – at least until the dust settles from…from what we're about to do."
"Vesta," Blackstone said softly. "Thank you, Antonius. With everything that's happened, I didn't even think –"
"You did have other things on your mind," Antonius pointed out gently.
"Do we still have the comm link with District Thirteen?" Blackstone asked suddenly.
Antonius nodded. "I believe so, yes."
"Then we need to contact Thirteen as soon as possible," Blackstone said urgently. "My daughter, Sperantia – she's probably heard that I was arrested. I need to let her know that I'm still alive."
"Minister," Antonius replied carefully, "I need to remind you that we must keep focused on our priorities. We need to consolidate our position here, and we need to move on both Marcellus Snow and Cassius Hammersmith before they have a chance to muster any kind of response. We must take them quickly, and quietly. If their personal guard is alerted, they'll resist. And the last thing that we need right now is to fight pitched battles in the center of the Capitol." He paused before continuing. "We don't need bloodshed in City Center. The citizens would panic. Not to mention, a clean, bloodless takeover will be easier for the average Capitol citizen to swallow than wresting power from Marcellus Snow by force." He regarded Blackstone sympathetically. "We will re-establish contact with Thirteen after we take Snow and Hammersmith into custody. Once we cut off the head, the body will be much easier to deal with."
Blackstone looked as though he wanted to say something, but instead nodded once, curtly. "You're right," he finally admitted, although reluctantly.
"Your wife will be here any minute," Antonius said. "I suggest that you spend a little time with her before we continue to plan. We can't do anything about Snow and Hammersmith until morning, anyway."
"Why wait?" Blackstone asked. "They're asleep. We would have surprise on our side."
Antonius shook his head. "Their personal security teams would find it very suspicious if Peacekeepers suddenly appeared in the middle of the night. Questions would be asked that there would be no satisfactory answer for. We wouldn't be able to avoid shooting or bloodshed."
"I don't see how we can avoid spilling blood, Antonius," Blackstone argued. "I don't see either Snow or Hammersmith going quietly."
"Oh, but they will," Antonius assured him. "I intend to visit Marcellus Snow first thing in the morning and inform him that you seem to have escaped from the prison. And no one would raise an eyebrow if I travel through the Capitol with a contingent of armed Peacekeepers. We are at war, after all."
Blackstone looked doubtful. "How do you know that Snow will 'go quietly?'" he asked.
Antonius chuckled. "He'll be outgunned – and Marcellus Snow values his own skin. He's not the martyr type."
"And Hammersmith?" Blackstone asked. "What if he doesn't cooperate?"
"Cassius Hammersmith can't expose himself as Snow's puppet-master without taking a lot of risks," Antonius explained. "He's a cabinet minister. He wields no direct executive authority. That's reserved for the President alone. If we take Marcellus Snow, Hammersmith won't stick his neck out to intercede."
"Speaking of which," Blackstone continued, "what about Snow? Coriolanus Snow, that is."
"Out of the picture," Antonius replied dismissively.
"You sound pretty damn confident," Blackstone said.
"Minister, he's in a coma," Antonius said patiently. "I spoke with two of his doctors, and they both told me the same thing. Coriolanus Snow is dying. It's just a matter of time. He is not a factor in how this all plays out."
There was a soft knock before Blackstone could reply, followed by a Peacekeeper cracking open the door. "Excuse me, Minister – and Praetor. The Minister's wife is here."
Antonius waved his hand in a "send her in" gesture, as Blackstone rose shakily to his feet. Tentatively, Vesta Blackstone entered the office, saw her husband, and stopped with a gasp. Eyes wide, her mouth worked silently for a moment before she was able to croak out a single word.
"Quintus?"
Blackstone stepped forward, his arms going around his wife's small frame, and pulled her close as her hands clutched the front of the prison coverall that he was still wearing. "Vesta," he murmured softly as he buried his face in her hair. "I'm so sorry. I've put you through more than any wife – or mother – should ever have to bear."
"Oh, Quintus," Vesta sobbed into his coverall, and then pulled her face back abruptly. "What is that smell?"
The Peacekeeper was still standing at the door. "Minister," he said respectfully, "I took the liberty of bringing you a change of clothing while I was at your home. I figured you may want to change out of prison orange."
Blackstone gratefully took the proffered suitcase. "Thank you," he murmured. He turned to Antonius. "Do you think our coup can wait until after I shower, shave, and change?"
Antonius grinned. "I think that's an excellent idea. After all, it wouldn't do for you to address the nation wearing an orange prison coverall."
PART III
For the twentieth time, Katniss Everdeen carefully inspected each arrow, running the ball of her thumb along the razor-sharp broadheads before she replaced the arrows in her quiver. She didn't inspect the incendiaries or the high-explosive arrowheads. There was no need. The incendiaries would burn, and the explosives would explode when they struck their targets. There was no real need to inspect the broadheads, either, but Katniss found something strangely reassuring in handling the arrows that she was most familiar with – almost ritualistic.
Without realizing it, Katniss was going through the same motions that she had done hundreds of times before, back in District Twelve. There, on the other side of the fence, she hunted wild game to feed her family. Here, she was preparing for another kind of hunt.
Katniss Everdeen was preparing to hunt human beings.
She didn't consciously realize that was what she was doing. If anyone had asked her, she would have said, truthfully, that she was doing it out of boredom. That was easier than to admit that she was preparing to enter the Capitol, not to do battle, but to assassinate what Jackson called "high-value targets." Katniss had killed people before, of course. In the Hunger Games, she had killed other Tributes to save her own life. During the Reaping Day Rebellion, and again during the war, she had killed Peacekeepers. But that was different. They were all combatants. The people she was training to kill now were not. They wouldn't even realize they were in danger until Katniss's arrow suddenly sprouted from their chest, or their head, and they fall lifeless to the ground.
Katniss didn't think about all that. She was bored, that's all.
A familiar voice caused Katniss to look up from her repetitive task. Johanna Mason walked across the hangar floor, her ax slung jauntily over her right shoulder and a grin on her face as she talked animatedly with a District Thirteen soldier that Katniss didn't know. As the pair approached Katniss, Johanna slapped the man on the back, said "I'll see you later," and veered off towards Katniss as the soldier walked on, giving Johanna a final wave and nodding his head respectfully at Katniss as he passed by.
Johanna stopped in front of Katniss, dropped her ax with a metallic clatter, and lowered herself, cross-legged, to the concrete floor. As she sat, she said breathlessly, "There she is. The 'Mockingjay.'"
Katniss snorted, half in amusement, half in disgust, and raised her left hand, middle finger extended. "Fuck off, Mason," she muttered in mock contempt. It was a game they played often.
Johanna ignored both Katniss's finger and her obscene suggestion. "Is Finnick back yet?"
Katniss shook her head. "No. He and Cashmere are still at the range."
Johanna chuckled. "Waste of time, if you ask me. Finnick couldn't hit his own ass with a full magazine and Cashmere ain't much better."
"I suppose you have room to talk?" Katniss asked archly.
Johanna smiled triumphantly. "Perfect score on the combat course today, and seventy-four out of eighty on the known distance range."
Katniss whistled softly. "Impressive."
Johanna shrugged. "Yeah, well, if we are deployed, this –" she hefted her ax "- will be useless for anything other than a photo op. Ditto Finnick's trident and Cashmere's sword." Johanna eyed Katniss's bow and full quiver. "Now, you, on the other hand – 'whispering death' at a hundred meters. Those Capitol fucks won't know whether to shit or go blind when your arrows start sprouting out of 'em."
"That's 'if,'" Katniss corrected. "'If' my arrows start sprouting. We're supposed to be a contingency, remember?"
Johanna chuckled humorlessly. "A 'contingency.' That's why we're locked up in this hangar. Do you really think that Boggs would order us in here if he didn't think that we're going to be deployed?"
Katniss glared at Johanna. "Aren't you just a fucking ray of sunshine," she muttered.
"Just being realistic," Johanna replied cheerfully. "You seem tense, though." Johanna snapped her fingers. "I've got it. You're all wound up because you aren't getting any!"
Katniss shook her head in disgust. "You're crossing the line, Mason," she warned.
Johanna leaned in and her voice dropped conspiratorially. "Hey, listen. I know what it's like. I mean, Nils and I usually –"
"That's enough!" Katniss snapped angrily.
Johanna fell silent and regarded Katniss thoughtfully. Finally, she said, "You really are pissed, aren't you?" She paused for a moment, and then spoke again, softly, "Listen. For what it's worth – I'm sorry."
Katniss gave Johanna a sidelong glance. "I'm not like you," she muttered. "Peeta's the only one…" she added as her voice trailed off.
"Seriously?" Johanna asked in amazement. "I mean – I thought that –"
"You thought right," Katniss said miserably. "But Peeta – I never thought I could love anyone, until Peeta." She wiped her eyes clumsily.
Johanna shifted around, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. "Did it happen on your Victory Tour?" she asked softly.
"Peeta and me?" Katniss asked.
Johanna shook her head. "No. The – other thing."
Katniss nodded her head, once. "Then, and after," she admitted slowly.
"Snow wanted me, too," Johanna said, her voice distant. "Oh, but I was so full of myself. Arrogant. An 'untouchable' Victor. I actually laughed at him." Her voice turned bitter. "Oh, I was right. Nothing happened to me. No, Snow just killed off my family – and my boyfriend. That was stupid on his part. He should've left someone alive to use against me – but he didn't. So, I was shunted aside and only appeared in public during the Games, when I had to mentor some poor girl that was destined to become cannon-bait for some bloodthirsty Career." She glanced over at Katniss. "Your Mentor, Haymitch – he defied Snow also, and paid the same price as me. And I ended up just like him."
"Haymitch is a drunk," Katniss pointed out. "You're not."
Johanna laughed again. "We're both addicts. Haymitch has alcohol. I have sex. Although," she added, bitterness creeping into her voice again, "Snow knows I could use a drink right now."
Katniss sat silently. "Did I shock you?" Johanna asked. "I mean, I know that you Twelves have some pretty old-fashioned ideas about sex and all."
Katniss shook her head. "No. Surprised, maybe."
"Hmmpf," Johanna grunted. "After I lost everyone that I cared about, I went a little crazy. Nothing was off-limits. Threesomes, orgies, men, women – you name it, I did it. Except for Capitolites. I wouldn't bang a Capitolite no matter what. And they tried – every year during the Games I got propositioned. And I'd tease them, and lead them on, and get 'em all worked up before I'd cross my legs and kick them out."
"Did you ever think," Katniss said angrily, "that these Capitolites may have been responsible for your Tributes not getting sponsored, or worse – that they sponsored Tributes that killed yours?"
"I never had a Tribute survive the bloodbath," Johanna replied calmly. "So, to answer your question: no." She turned once more and gazed at Katniss. "You know – this may come as a shock to you, but I admire and respect the hell out of you, even if I don't like you very much."
Katniss was surprised to hear this revelation. "I didn't know," she murmured.
"When Snow came to me," Johanna said, "I was only thinking of myself. You were thinking about your sister. Am I right?"
Katniss nodded. "Yes," she admitted softly. "And it's because of Prim that I hope we don't have to deploy – even though one of the reasons why I volunteered is because of Prim. Does that make sense?"
Johanna gave Katniss a genuine smile. "It makes perfect sense to me. But what about Peeta?"
"What about him?" Katniss asked warily.
"Well, you say that you love him –" Johanna began.
"I do!" Katniss said emphatically.
"- yet here you are, volunteering for a suicide mission," Johanna finished.
"Let me ask you something," Katniss said. "Do you love Nils Fenster?"
Johanna shrugged and turned away from Katniss. "I don't know. I guess maybe I do."
"Yet here you are," Katniss said. "Finnick loves Annie, and he's here. Cashmere and Doc Picardo have become an item, and she's here. Peeta would be here, if he could. What's the one thing we all have in common?"
"We're all Victors," Johanna said, with an "I'm stating the obvious" tone in her voice.
"And we're all willing to die for people we love," Katniss added softly. "That's why I've been avoiding Peeta. It's not that he doesn't understand – deep down inside, I think he understands all too well."
Johanna shrugged. "Maybe. But that's not the main reason I'm here."
Katniss gave Johanna a quizzical look. "I'm here," Johanna said slowly, her voice savage, "to finally get some personal revenge against those Capitol fucks. Why do you think I've been working so hard at the range?" She smiled wickedly. "You don't think I'm gonna let you have all the fun, do you?"
PART IV
I was in a meeting with Plutarch Heavensbee and Fulvia Cardew when Plutarch got an urgent message from the Command Center to activate his holo-screen and tune in to Channel "A."
I had to hand it to Plutarch. He must have known that my heart was not into discussing a new propo, yet here he was, doggedly forging ahead despite my obvious disinterest. What did get my attention, however, was the message to tune in to Channel "A," as that was the channel that District Thirteen had reserved for broadcasting holo-vid broadcasts from the Capitol.
"Someone in the Capitol must be back on the air," Plutarch said unnecessarily as he activated the holo-screen. I could tell that he was annoyed at the interruption. I, on the other hand, welcomed it – although I doubt if anything could really get my mind off Katniss, awaiting deployment orders in the East Hangar.
The image on the holo-screen flickered, steadied, and finally came into focus. It didn't show much – just an image of City Center in the Capitol. What was unusual was the lack of traffic – both vehicular and pedestrian – that almost always clogged City Center. A voice finally emerged from the holo-screen speakers, and it quickly became apparent that the commentator was trying to piece together what was happening.
"– reporting from City Center," a male voice said. "Peacekeepers have blocked key intersections near the Presidential Palace. Every few minutes, a hovercraft passes overhead, and an amplified voice advises all citizens to avoid the City Center from the Presidential Palace in a ten-block radius. We're still unsure as to why the communications blackout has been suddenly lifted, and, so far, we've been unable to contact anyone at the Information Ministry for an explanation. We have no new information regarding President Coriolanus Snow's condition. We will continue –"
The commentator suddenly stopped speaking as the unmistakable, staccato crackle of gunfire burst from the holo-screen's speakers. The camera seemed to shake, and then steady, and shake again as a bright flash appeared in the upper right corner of the picture, to be immediately followed by a billowing cloud of dirty grayish-brown smoke. The report from the explosion rolled and echoed through City Center a second or two later, and a Capitol hovercraft flew into the picture, gleaming white with the Great Seal of Panem emblazoned on each wing.
"There's shooting and explosions now," the commentator said unnecessarily. "We have no other information, other than what we are witnessing here; however, we can't rule out the possibility of a terrorist attack. We'll try to get more information as it becomes –"
The commentator's voice suddenly cut off again, and the holo-screen went black. "Dammit," Plutarch muttered as he tapped the controls. "I need to get that picture back! Fulvia, call the Command Center and find out what happened to the signal!" He turned towards me. "This is no 'terrorist attack!' This is a coup!"
Suddenly, the holo-screen flickered to life again – this time showing a scene inside what appeared to be a well-appointed office. I recognized the location instantly, because I had been in that office once before. It had been during my Victory Tour, during the Presidential Reception, when I had been whisked away for a brief photo op with President Coriolanus Snow. The meeting had been perfunctory – a smile and handshake for the cameras – but the opulence of the room had made an impression on me.
A man was seated behind President Snow's desk, but it wasn't Coriolanus or Marcellus Snow. In fact, it was just about the last person that I expected to see sitting in what, for all intents and purposes, was the seat of power for the Nation of Panem.
It was Quintus Blackstone, the Minister of Security – and Sperantia Blackstone's father.
PART V
Spartacus Knight had been reading the security duty log for the previous twenty-four hours when his desk phone chimed softly. The Presidential Chief of Security absently reached for the phone with one hand while pausing the text scrolling slowly down his computer screen with the other. "Yes?"
"South Portal, sir," a familiar voice replied. The South Portal was the entrance most commonly used by Ministers and other high-ranking government officials, and Spartacus reserved that station for his most trusted security officers. "Praetor Antonius just arrived, and he's not on the appointment list for this morning."
Spartacus sighed softly in irritation. His people were hand-picked, but sometimes took their orders too literally. "He's now the Minister of Security, Officer Butler," Spartacus explained patiently. "As such, he's a member of the Acting President's cabinet. Please pass him through."
"Yes, sir," Butler said, and then added, "his Peacekeepers also?"
The mention of Peacekeepers got Spartacus Knight's full attention. "Peacekeepers?"
"Yes, sir," Butler said. "The Praetor is accompanied by a full squad of Peacekeepers."
"Hold on that order to pass the Minister through." Spartacus punched a button, placed his officer on hold, and then quickly dialed a number.
"Office of the President," a well-modulated feminine voice said after a single ring.
"Albia, it's Spartacus. Is the Acting President in his office?"
"Of course," Albia – the personal secretary to Coriolanus, and now Marcellus, Snow, said. "He's in conference with Minister Hammersmith."
"Minister Antonius just showed up at the South Portal to see the President," Spartacus explained. "He's accompanied by a full Peacekeeper squad. Did President Snow add Antonius to the appointment list after it was published?"
"No." Albia replied, and then added, "He's got a full squad with him?"
"Yes." Why would Antonius travel through the city with a full squad? Unless – "Albia, can you check with President Snow to confirm if he can see Minister Antonius and get right back to me? I have to check something."
"Of course," Albia said.
Spartacus immediately broke the connection and quickly dialed another number. "Capitol Garrison, Sergeant Adler, sir," a crisp voice said on the second ring.
"This is the Presidential Security Office," Spartacus said brusquely. "Is the Garrison Commander available?"
"He's been called away to a meeting at the Ministry of Security, sir," the Sergeant explained. "If you like, I can check if the Deputy Commander is available."
"Perhaps you can help," Spartacus said impatiently. "Have any new security alerts been issued?"
"No, sir," Sergeant Adler said. "Nothing except the stand-down order."
"'Stand-down order?'" Spartacus asked in confusion. "What 'stand-down order?'"
"Why, from the Security Ministry, sir," Adler explained. "It came over the wire a few hours ago. Here it is – 'Cease-fire effective immediately. Stand down from all offensive operations. Maintain defensive posture and only return fire unless fired upon. For the Acting President – Antonius, Praetor-General, Minister of Security.'"
An incoming call light was blinking insistently on the phone. "This order didn't originate from the Office of the President?"
"No, sir," Adler replied. "The Acting President must issue his orders through the Ministry of Security, unless official succession has been accomplished and command authority has been passed from President Snow – President Coriolanus Snow – to the new President, in writing."
"Thank you." A knot of fear was growing by the second in Spartacus Knight's belly, and he quickly broke the connection and punched the 'incoming call' button. "Yes?"
"Spartacus," the President's Secretary said, "I've checked with the President. He will grant Minister Antonius five minutes."
"Thank you, Albia," Spartacus said, and broke that connection. He paused to mop his forehead with a handkerchief before resuming his call with the South Portal. "Butler?"
"Yes, sir," Butler said nervously. "One moment, sir." Spartacus could hear muted conversation in the background, and then a new voice spoke.
"Young man, how long are you planning on keeping me waiting?" Minister-General Antonius asked impatiently.
"I'll be right down to escort you to see the President, sir," Spartacus replied, forcing his voice to remain calm.
"About time," Antonius grumbled. There was a sudden silence, and Spartacus realized that Antonius had hung up the phone. I can't risk calling the South Portal, he thought. I'll have to handle this myself, and hope that Butler and the others don't hesitate when I need them and follow my lead. Spartacus stood and slipped a pistol into a holster at the small of his back. Snow knows I hope I don't need a gun, he said to himself as he hurried out of his office towards the South Portal.
"My apologies for keeping you waiting, Minister," Spartacus said as he strode quickly to the South Portal security checkpoint.
"I trust there won't be any further delays," Antonius grumbled. "I have urgent information to pass on to the Acting President."
"Of course." Spartacus glanced at the Peacekeepers standing outside the Portal. "Your escort must remain outside, however."
"As you wish." Antonius turned and nodded curtly to the Peacekeeper Squad Leader. "Sergeant, wait here."
The sergeant snapped to attention. "Yes, Praetor."
Spartacus beckoned for Antonius to enter the Portal. "I'm afraid you'll have to be scanned, Minister," he said apologetically. "Standard operating procedure. No exceptions."
Antonius nodded, emptied his pockets onto a small tray, and stepped into the scanner. A moment later the scanner beeped softly, and the scanner operator waved Antonius through. "You're clean, Minister."
"I should certainly hope so," Antonius said as he retrieved his belongings. He noticed Spartacus watching him with a puzzled expression on his face as he slipped his wallet and phone back into his pockets. "Is there something wrong, Spartacus?"
"I'm just a little surprised that you aren't armed, Minister," Spartacus replied.
Antonius chuckled. "I have an entire Peacekeeper squad to protect me."
"Yes, you do." Spartacus held out one arm. "Right this way, Minister."
As they walked, Spartacus tried to shake off his confusion. Antonius isn't armed. He didn't make a fuss about leaving his escort outside the Palace. Still – "The Acting President has said that he can only give you five minutes, Minister. I hope that will be enough time."
"It should be," Antonius said dryly. "What I have to discuss won't take much time at all."
They entered a hallway leading to the President's personal offices. Two security officers were posted outside the door leading to the outer office. "Pass us through," Spartacus ordered.
One officer opened the door while the other made a quick note on a clipboard. Antonius nodded at the two officers as he and Spartacus entered the outer office. There, a pleasant-faced young woman with an elaborate sea-green hairstyle was sitting behind a desk. "Hello, Minister," she said with a smile as the security officer shut the outer office door. "Good news! You won't be held to just five minutes. President Snow has concluded his business with Minister Hammersmith ahead of schedule."
"Oh?" Antonius said in surprise. "Is the Minister still here?"
"No, sir. He left shortly after Spartacus called me."
"He didn't exit through the South Portal, Albia," Spartacus said. "We would have seen him." Hammersmith and Marcellus Snow are practically joined at the hip, Spartacus said to himself. Why would he leave so suddenly? Unless – "Albia, what exactly did you say to President Snow?"
"Umm – well, I asked him if he could see Minister Antonius," Albia replied slowly. "He asked what about, I told him I didn't have that information, but it seemed to be urgent as the Minister was traveling with a Peacekeeper escort."
"Young lady," Antonius said evenly, "I do have an appointment with the Acting President. Could you please –"
"Minister, do you have any idea why Minister Hammersmith would suddenly leave?" Spartacus asked suddenly.
"I have no idea," Antonius said icily. "In fact, it's inconvenient that he's not here. I needed to discuss the stand-down order with both President Snow and Minister Hammersmith, not to mention the fact that Quintus Blackstone disappeared from custody sometime last night."
"Blackstone's escaped?" Spartacus gasped. Antonius mentioned the stand-down order, Spartacus said to himself. Was I wrong? "How?"
"That's what I wish to discuss – with President Snow." Antonius said, and then added, "Now, may I please see him?"
"I don't understand," Spartacus said, confused. "Why even mention Blackstone's escape to me?"
"Why, to cause you to drop your guard, of course," Antonius replied casually – and his right hand flashed out, striking Spartacus in the middle of his throat. Spartacus staggered back, and his eyes bugged out as he gagged and choked with the force of the blow. Antonius didn't hesitate. He spun Spartacus around, nimbly extracted the pistol from its holster, and brought the butt down forcefully against the man's skull. Spartacus dropped limply to the richly-carpeted floor.
Albia watched the sudden attack, her eyes wide, her muscles frozen with fear and shock. Antonius checked Spartacus one last time and then turned towards the young woman with the sea-green hair. "No need for you to die," Antonius said calmly, "as long as you do exactly as I say. Am I clear?"
Albia nodded, once. "Yes," she whispered.
Antonius smiled. "Good. Now, open that door." He nodded towards the door leading to Snow's personal office.
Albia gulped, turned, and slowly opened the door. "Minister Antonius, sir," she announced shakily.
"It's about time," Marcellus Snow muttered, as he looked up from a document that he had been reading. "I'm a busy…" Snow's voice trailed off when he spotted the pistol clenched in the Minister-General's hand.
"Correction, Marcellus," Antonius finished. "You were busy. Your status has just changed to 'unemployed.'"
"Are you insane?" Snow demanded. His eyes widened when he saw, through the open door, the body of his Security Chief sprawled on the floor. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"It's called a 'coup,' Marcellus," Antonius explained patiently. "And, unless you have a death wish, you will cooperate, and keep your hands in plain sight." He turned to Albia and pointed to a chair. "Sit."
"This is preposterous," Snow sputtered. "You won't succeed, Antonius."
"Then we'll both die today," Antonius replied matter-of-factly. With his free hand he pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed a single digit.
The phone rang twice before the familiar voice of the Peacekeeper Squad Leader answered. "Yes, sir?"
"How many on duty at the Portal?" Antonius asked.
"Five, sir," came the immediate response.
"Disarm them, peacefully, and take control of the Portal. Don't call me unless there's a problem." Antonius ended the call and immediately punched another number.
The phone only rang once this time. "Commander Servius, Praetor."
"Is the Capitol Garrison Commander there, Servius?"
"Yes, sir."
"I'm in the President's Office. Execute Plan Alpha immediately. And please escort the Garrison Commander to the Presidential Palace personally, Servius. I have some urgent matters to discuss with him."
"Right away, Praetor."
Antonius ended the call, lowered himself in a chair, and turned to Albia. "Do you have any heavy duct tape in your office?" he asked.
"I – I think so," she replied hesitantly.
"Good." Antonius waved the pistol towards Spartacus. "I need you to tape his hands and feet together, and put a nice big piece over his mouth, before he recovers his wits."
Albia nodded, stood, and went to comply with Antonius's order. "Oh, and Albia? Do a good job, my dear. If Spartacus manages to free himself, I would hate to be forced to shoot him."
PART VI
Plutarch, Fulvia, and I could only gape in astonishment at the image of Quintus Blackstone on the holo-screen. Blackstone showed signs of his recent imprisonment – there were obvious bags under his eyes and it was apparent that he had lost weight – but he was well-dressed and appeared to be freshly shaved and bathed. I thought of Sperantia Blackstone – as far as I knew, she had not been told about her father's incarceration – and I immediately reached for Plutarch's phone.
"Command center. Duty Officer speaking." a terse female voice said after a single ring.
"This is Peeta Mellark," I announced. "Put me through to the President."
There was only the briefest hesitation, and then the duty officer spoke once more. "One moment." There was a series of clicks and low tones, and then a familiar voice came through the earpiece. "Boggs here, Peeta."
"It's Blackstone, Colonel," I announced unnecessarily.
"I know, Peeta," Boggs said dryly. "Is that all –"
At that moment, the holo-transmission flickered, steadied for a moment, and then disappeared. "Get it back!" I heard Boggs order someone there in the Command Center. "Stand by, Peeta," Boggs said. "We lost the transmission."
"I know." Out of the corner of my eye I could see Plutarch reach out and change the setting on the phone to "speaker" mode.
"Heavensbee here, Mr. President," Plutarch announced. "I think the transmission was terminated at the source."
"The technicians here tell me the same thing, Plutarch," Boggs said tiredly. "Are you still there, Peeta?"
"Right here, Colonel."
"Why did you call?" Boggs asked.
"I think Sperantia should be told that her father is alive and well," I replied.
"She wasn't informed of her father's incarceration, Peeta," Boggs said, "That information was classified. As far as she is concerned, her father has always been alive and well in the Capitol."
"Yes, sir, I know." I leaned forward a bit. "Still, what would be the harm in releasing the information that we've seen her father and he appeared well?"
Boggs was silent for a moment. "I'll consider it." Another pause. "I think you should know, I've downgraded the Star Squad's alert status, in light of what we've seen on holo so far."
"Does that mean –" I began.
"– the Squad's status has been relaxed," Boggs interrupted. "They are no longer restricted to the East Hangar. They're free to move about."
I could feel something like a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. "Thank you, Colonel," I said softly.
"Just thought you should know," Boggs said brusquely. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
Boggs abruptly broke the connection – but I didn't care. Katniss had been given a new lease on life. And, right now, that was all that mattered to me.
PART VII
"Brigadier Valerius," Antonius said warmly as the tall, erect Peacekeeper entered the room, "you look well. Please, sit."
Valerius planted his feet on the rich carpet and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll stand, thank you, Minister."
Antonius waved his hand towards an overstuffed leather chair, where Quintus Blackstone sat, watching the exchange between the two veteran Peacekeeper officers with interest. "He's the Minister, Brigadier. Not me. If you wish, 'Praetor' or 'General' will suffice."
Valerius never shifted his gaze from Antonius. "He's a traitor. As are you, it would appear."
Antonius chuckled. "Then perhaps you should arrest me."
"I can't!" Valerius snapped. "Your lackeys have disarmed me."
Antonius rubbed his hand over his chin thoughtfully. "Oh, yes. They did." He stood and picked up a pistol laying on the desk and held it out, butt first. "Here."
Valerius hesitated, acutely aware of the brace of armed Peacekeepers behind him, their weapons at the ready. "Go ahead, Brigadier. Take it. It's yours, after all."
Valerius didn't move. "Peacekeepers," Antonius ordered, "you're dismissed. Wait outside and close the door on your way out."
Once the guards had left, Antonius carefully placed the pistol on the desk in front of Valerius and then sat back down. "It's all about trust, Valerius. Go ahead."
In a single, smooth motion, Valerius snatched up the pistol, pulled the slide to the rear, and aimed it at Antonius. "Your sidearm, please, General."
"Tell me, Valerius," Antonius said conversationally, "Tell me about the oath you swore."
"I know about your twisted interpretation of the oath," Valerius growled. "Now, I will ask you one more time. Your sidearm, please."
Antonius sighed, sat up, and slowly drew his pistol – but he didn't hand it over. "How long have we known each other, Valerius? Thirty years? Forty?"
Valerius tightened his grip on his pistol, its muzzle pointing unwaveringly between Antonius's eyes. "Our history has nothing to do with the current situation."
"Our fathers were stonecutters in District Two, Minister," Antonius continued, now addressing Blackstone instead of Valerius. "And, like all fathers, they wanted their sons to have a better life. And the path towards that better life was through the Peacekeeper Academy." He turned back towards Valerius. "Remember? We were two eighteen-year-old kids, fresh from our final Reaping, ready to pacify the districts and maintain order throughout Panem."
Valerius said nothing. "Now look at us," Antonius continued. "You, commanding the Capitol Garrison, and me, the most senior Peacekeeper of them all. Not bad for a couple of 'cutters', wouldn't you say?"
Antonius reversed his grip on his pistol and extended it, grip first, to Valerius. The Brigadier took the weapon and slipped it under his belt, all the while never taking his eyes off Antonius. "I should shoot you both now and save Panem the trouble of executing you."
"Except that Servius would then be forced to kill you, and we would have gone to all this trouble for nothing," Antonius pointed out. "The coup would die, right here, in the Presidential Palace. Servius – he's a good man, but he wouldn't be able to rally the rest of the Peacekeeper Corps to continue to effect the change that we so desperately need."
"The war is over, Brigadier Valerius," Blackstone added, speaking for the first time. "Oh, if Antonius and I were out of the way, the fighting would go on – needlessly, I might add. But the outcome would not change. The Capitol will fall to the Rebellion, but thousands more would die - needlessly."
"Tell me, Valerius," Antonius said. "How are your brothers and sisters?"
"You know they're all dead!" Valerius snapped.
"Valerius had two brothers and a sister," Antonius explained to Blackstone. "All stonecutters. I, too, had two brothers and a sister that were stonecutters. And, like Valerius, my siblings are all dead as well. Silicosis, also known as 'cutters disease.'"
"That's how it is in District Two," Valerius said defensively. "We either quarry stone or become Peacekeepers."
"And cutters die before they're fifty," Antonius pointed out. "Just like lumberjacks in Seven, coal miners in Twelve – when there still was a Twelve, anyway – and assembly-line workers in Six. That's what needs to change, Valerius."
"The country needs stone for building and will continue to do so no matter what the outcome of this war!" Valerius argued. "You are changing nothing!"
"Yes, and the country needs wood, and coal, and trucks, and trains," Blackstone agreed. "And every year, the Capitol increases quotas, and the workers in the districts struggle to feed their families and provide for their children." He rose to his feet slowly. "Look at me, Valerius. Capitol born and bred. It took this war to really open my eyes and see things in a different way."
"It's well known that your daughter has sided with the Rebels," Valerius practically spit.
"Yes," Blackstone replied thoughtfully, "and if Sperantia – who was as staunch a Loyalist as any Capitolite – could be swayed, then perhaps the Rebels have a point in rebelling against the established order."
"Valerius," Antonius said softly, "you know as well as I do that Marcellus Snow has no real authority to issue orders to the Peacekeeper Corps. The oath that you say I've twisted is very clear. You and I – and every other Peacekeeper in Panem – swore an oath to President Coriolanus Snow. There's been no legal transfer of power. Marcellus – who is now our prisoner, by the way – cannot legally issue orders to any Peacekeeper. Do you know what that means?"
"It means nothing," Valerius said, but his voice had lost some of its fire.
"It means everything," Blackstone pointed out. "It means, until there is a legal transfer of presidential authority, that the first duty of the Corps of Peacekeepers is to keep the peace." He raised a small remote control, and an image appeared on the holo-screen. Rather than a video, a series of still pictures slowly scrolled past. "These were taken in District Twelve," Blackstone narrated, "shortly after the Reaping Day Rebellion." Images of Peacekeepers, sprawled on the streets and bloated in death, appeared. "District Twelve was firebombed on Coriolanus Snow's order."
"I'm aware of this," Valerius muttered.
"Were you aware, old friend," Antonius added, "that Snow bombed Twelve before these Peacekeepers could be evacuated?"
Valerius stared at the images numbly. "He wouldn't do that."
"He did," Blackstone said flatly. "He sacrificed their lives without a second thought."
"These were taken a few days ago in District Two," Antonius continued as a new set of pictures appeared. "Of course, our old home is difficult to recognize, what with all the rubble in the streets and destroyed buildings. There are a lot of Loyalists in Two. The fighting there has been especially savage. And unnecessary."
"And let's not forget District Eight," Blackstone said. "Virtually destroyed in a Snow-ordered nuclear attack."
"A 'nuclear' attack?" Valerius looked on in horror as photos of a huge, glowing mushroom cloud, followed by images of horrific destruction, scrolled before him. "That can't be! Rebel bases in Eight were bombed with conventional weapons."
"That was the official story," Blackstone said with a shake of his head. "Death-toll estimates are at twenty thousand and rising."
"Snow targeted Eight to send a message," Antonius added. "He tried to nuke Ten, also. Fortunately for everyone, that missile malfunctioned and failed to detonate."
Blackstone ended the slide-show. "Seen enough?"
Valerius looked shaken. "I didn't know," he muttered.
"I didn't think so," Antonius said gently.
Valerius looked at the pistol in his hand, and then slowly holstered it. He then drew Antonius's pistol from his belt and held it out, butt first, to Antonius. "Here."
Antonius made no move to recover his weapon. "What changed your mind?" he asked.
Valerius sighed. "You may be a traitor and a rebel, but I've always known you as a man of your word. You're no liar."
Antonius took his pistol and wordlessly slid it back into its holster. "Trust?" he asked.
Valerius nodded. "Trust."
"Brigadier," Blackstone said urgently, "We have your trust. Do we have your cooperation as well?"
"Not yet," Valerius replied. "However, you do not have my opposition, either." He glanced at Antonius. "I need access to your comm room. I need to order the garrison to stand down and not interfere with your operations."
"Right away." Antonius pushed a button on the desk, and Commander Servius immediately appeared at the door. "Servius, have someone escort Brigadier Valerius to the comm room, and send in the video technicians."
"Right away, Praetor."
"Ready for your big moment?" Antonius asked as Blackstone took his seat behind the desk.
Blackstone took a deep breath, nodded, and glanced at the technicians. "I'm ready. Are they?"
"One moment, Minister," the lead technician said. "We've accessed the primary network, but we're still having some problems with signal strength. The live feed may intermittently freeze."
"Meaning?" Blackstone asked impatiently.
"Meaning," the technician explained, "from time to time, we will only be able to send still images."
"Better than nothing," Blackstone muttered. "Let's do it."
Antonius glanced at Servius. "Security?"
"My Peacekeepers are spread pretty thin," Servius replied, "but we control traffic in the immediate vicinity of the Palace. We've even managed to get a hovercraft airborne to assist in our security efforts."
"All right," Antonius said with a nod, "let's –"
Gunfire suddenly erupted outside, dangerously close to the Palace. "What the hell?" Antonius muttered.
"Start the transmission," Blackstone ordered. "Servius, find Valerius. I want to know if that shooting is coming from his Peacekeepers!"
"We can only get still for now," the technician said. "All we'll be sending is your picture."
Blackstone nodded. "Do it."
PART VIII
Sperantia Blackstone, accompanied by her closest friend, Andromeda Snow, sat quietly and listened as Boggs told her what was known about her father's arrest, incarceration, and apparent escape from the custody of Acting President Marcellus Snow. As Boggs spoke, Sperantia's eyes kept shifting to the image of her father on the holo-screen, as if she was trying to convince herself that her father was, indeed, alive and well.
When Boggs finished speaking, Sperantia asked a single question. "Why wasn't I told about my dad's arrest earlier?"
Boggs glanced at me, a "help me" expression on his face. I had to suppress a smile. Boggs was one of the toughest people that I had ever met, and here he was, cowed by a teenage girl's simple question. Well, he was most certainly asking for my help – but I'm not sure if what I was about to say would help him in any way.
"Speri," I began, "I want you to know that I was against keeping you in the dark regarding your father. You had a right to know – even if the knowledge was painful to you."
"Thank you," she said, and then turned towards Boggs once more. "But that doesn't explain why I wasn't told."
"It's – well, it sometimes is hard to find the right words," I explained awkwardly, coming to Boggs' rescue once more. "But, as you can see, your father is no longer in prison. President Boggs feels that he's somehow involved with whatever is going on in City Center."
"Speri," Andromeda added, "for what it's worth, I trust what Peeta is saying. Your father is alive and, from what I understand, he's involved with the resistance in the Capitol." She paused and looked down at the floor. "Unlike my father, who's trying his best to make the Rebellion as bloody as possible." She sighed and looked like she was about to cry. "I wish I wasn't a Snow."
"It's a good thing you are," Boggs said. "If not for you, the Snow name would be tarnished forever. You'll make people think of the good that you've done – and will continue to do." He turned towards Speri. "And your father – he's risked his very life to end this war. That's something you can be proud of."
"Funny how things turn out," Speri murmured. "I was a Loyalist. I thought Meda was a traitor. And now I'm angry at the things that Meda's father is doing, when I would have supported him without question if I was still in the Capitol." She looked directly at Boggs. "I'm not some pampered Capitolite that needs to be protected from bad news. In the future, I expect to be given bad news, not shielded from it."
Boggs smiled. "It's a deal."
As it turned out, she didn't have long to wait.
"Well?" Blackstone asked impatiently.
"If your question was regarding the gunfire that we heard," Antonius replied, "it was Snow's personal Presidential Security Detachment against Servius's Peacekeepers." He paused for a moment. "The Peacekeepers won."
"And our transmission?" Blackstone asked.
"It was interrupted by the Ministry of Information, sir," the lead video technician explained as he worked. "A clumsy job, at best," he added with a grin. The video technicians were, almost without exception, originally from District Three, and were not inordinately fond of the Capitol or the Snow administration. "We're working on a bypass now. We should be up and running in a few minutes."
Blackstone nodded and shifted nervously in his chair. "I hope this works," he muttered. He glanced at single printed page that rested on the desk in front of him. "Do you think this is enough, Antonius?"
"We have two goals right now," Antonius said with a nod. "We want the shooting to stop, and we don't want the Rebels to invade the Capitol. The long-winded speeches can come later."
"Speaking of shooting," Blackstone continued, "how bad was it?"
"Three Peacekeepers, twice that number from Snow's personal guard," Antonius replied somberly, and then added, "let them be the last casualties of this war."
"Minister?" Blackstone glanced up at the video technician. "We're ready, sir."
Blackstone nodded again and took a deep breath. "All right. Let's end a war."
My reunion with Katniss took place in the mess hall, so we were a bit restrained – both by the public setting as well as the other reunions taking place at the same time. Finnick was with Annie once again, Johanna and Nils Fenster were giggling like a couple of District Twelve school kids planning a rendezvous at the slag heap, and Jackson sat with Enobaria in a corner off to themselves. I must admit, I was more than a little shocked to see Enobaria – the tough, ruthless Career Victor – weeping very quietly.
Of course, it was Haymitch that managed to put a damper on everyone's mood. "Just remember, folks," he groused, "ain't nuthin' over. We don't know what's going on in the Capitol. So, don't get your hopes up too high."
"Really, Haymitch," Effie said in exasperation, "sometimes you're impossible!"
"Just realistic, darlin'," he replied with a shrug.
Cashmere, who, along with Dr. Picardo, was seated across from Katniss and me, leaned forward. "There he goes again," she said in a low voice. "Mr. Buzzkill."
"Now, my dear," Picardo said soothingly, "don't judge him too harshly. Haymitch, after all, is a rough-hewn product of his environment."
Katniss looked at me quizzically. "Did he just insult Twelve?"
I tried to suppress a grin. "I think so."
Katniss's face clouded over, and she turned towards Picardo, but before she could say anything, the large video monitors in the mess hall flickered to life. Once again, the face of Minister Blackstone gazed at the camera, only this time, the image was moving – and speaking.
"People of Panem," Blackstone was saying. "My name is Quintus Blackstone. I am the former Minister of Security for Panem, and I am speaking from Coriolanus Snow's personal office inside the Presidential Palace. I represent the resistance within the Capitol, and I, along with Praetor-General Antonius –" as he spoke, the camera seemed to pull back, and the scene now showed three uniformed senior Peacekeepers flanking the desk that Blackstone was seated behind "- as well the commander of the Capitol Peacekeeper Garrison, Brigadier Valerius, and the commander of the central Capitol Prison, Commander Servius, have ordered an immediate and complete cessation of hostilities, effective immediately."
Blackstone paused for a moment as the camera zoomed in on him until he filled the screen once more. "As many of you are probably aware, President Coriolanus Snow has been hospitalized and his condition is grave. Acting President Marcellus Snow has been placed under arrest, and, as I speak, we are actively seeking out other Cabinet Ministers to be taken into custody. I ask now, of the Rebel leadership, to please honor the cease-fire and take no further offensive action."
A look of determination crossed Blackstone's face. "There has been enough killing. The war is over."