CHAPTER 26
PART I
Thump-dump. Thump-dump. Thump-dump.
I feel each heartbeat pulse against my chest wall, my eyes glued to the muzzle of the pistol pointing at my head. I've been in trouble before. Flogged twice, arrested for bogus crimes that I didn't even commit, launched into an arena of death, beaten, shot with arrows, and came about as close to dying as a person can come without actually crossing into the realm of death...but this...facing a cold-eyed man pointing a pistol unwaveringly at my head in Haymitch Abernathy's fucking basement...
I'm only dimly aware of Hazelle Hawthorne's presence behind me as I stand, my hands raised far above my head. The man's eyes grow colder still, as his right thumb descends on the pistol's hammer, deliberately pulling it back with an emphatic click-click.
This is it. This is how I die. At the hands of a total stranger in Haymitch Abernathy's basement...and I have no idea why.
"Mitchell," a quiet, firm, female voice says, her face wreathed in shadows. "Mitchell!"
"He's seen us," the steely-eyed man mutters, his accent strange and hard to place. "Ma'am, he'll compromise the whole op." The muzzle of the pistol doesn't waver so much as a single millimeter.
I hear a board creak on the stairs and the woman's face comes into view. Her short, dark hair is pulled straight back from her thin, angular face. Sharp-featured, my mother would call her. And, gauging by the deference that the man called Mitchell is showing her, definitely in charge.
"Stand down, Soldier," the woman says. "Now. Unless you want to explain to Coin exactly why you greased a Victor?"
Uncertainty flits over his face for the first time. "Ma'am?"
The woman reaches one hand over the mans shoulder, firmly grasping the pistol clenched in his hand, deliberately grabbing it so that one finger is wedged in between the hammer and the rest of the gun. The man called Mitchell couldn't fire the gun now even if he wanted to.
"That," the woman says slowly and distinctly, "is Peeta Mellark. Victor of the Third Quarter Quell." The woman carefully pulls the gun out of Mitchell's grasp. "And I'm reasonably sure that President Coin wants him alive and undamaged."
President who?
"Besides," the woman adds, "did you stop and think about the noise that a gunshot would make? Even down here? The idea is to not draw attention to ourselves."
The man called Mitchell reddens slightly from the quiet rebuke, and I can feel the tension dissipating as my pulse slowly returns to normal, especially after the woman says calmly, "You can lower your hands, Soldier. I've pulled Mitchell's teeth."
Sheepishly, I slowly lower my hands. Even though the woman has taken his gun, the man that she addressed as Mitchell is still watching me carefully, and I have no doubt that any sudden moves on my part would be met with an instant, and most likely, violent response...Victor or no Victor.
"Come on," the woman says. "Let's get off these stairs." She glances back up at Hazelle. I had just about forgotten that she was even there. "Soldier, please secure the door and -"
"Too late for that," Haymitch's laconic voice cuts the woman off. "Boy, I can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?"
Still mindful of Mitchell watching my every move, I swivel my head around and see Haymitch standing in the kitchen behind Hazelle...and Katniss standing directly behind Haymitch.
"Great security ya got here, Jackson," Haymitch chuckles as he brushes past Hazelle and joins me on the top stair step.
"That's Lieutenant Jackson to you, Soldier!" The woman retorts angrily. I'm aware of another presence behind me and I glance over my shoulder to see Katniss, confusion written on her face.
What's going on? I see her mouth soundlessly form the words. I can only shrug in reply.
Haymitch chuckles again. "Soldier. Now that's funny!" He turns back to Katniss and I. "What'dya say, Sweetheart? Am I soldier material?"
"We're all soldiers," the woman called Jackson says curtly. "Soldiers fighting for the same common cause. A free and just Panem."
Haymitch gives the woman a disgusted look. "Missy, I was ass-deep in the Rebellion while you were still being toilet trained. So spare me the rah-rah speeches."
Haymitch's casual mention of the Rebellion finally causes me to find my voice once again. "Everyone just shut up! Someone needs to explain just what the fuck is going on here! And Haymitch...are you crazy? Talking about...that...in the house?"
"Relax, kid," Haymitch drawls. He digs in his pocket and pulls out a small control box. "Remember the gadget I showed you on the train?"
I nod. "A bug detector."
"Exactly." Haymitch holds the box up. "This is the new, improved version. Detects and neutralizes bugs. It's called a 'white noise generator.' Actually this is just the control. The generator is...well, elsewhere. We can talk freely in the kitchen, pantry, and basement."
"Speaking of which," Jackson cuts in. "As long as that door is open we're in danger of being compromised even more."
Haymitch nods. "Point taken." He turns to Hazelle. "Hazelle, can you make some o' that great tea? And bring it downstairs when it's ready?"
"Sure thing, Haymitch," Hazelle replies. Haymitch nods his thanks, closing the basement door firmly, and ushers us all downstairs.
I hesitate briefly, torn between my own curiosity about these strangers, and reluctance to have any more guns pointed at me...until Katniss says, "Come on. I want answers."
That did it. Katniss and I follow Haymitch into his basement.
The first thing that I notice is that the basement, once again, has that "lived-in" look. Not at all surprising, considering that there are now four people living down here instead of just myself. There was still only the one bed, but there were several sleeping rolls laid out on the floor, along with packs containing Snow only knows what. And, something new...a rectangular table and six chairs, one of which Haymitch grabs and plops down into.
"Sit," he says, indicating the other chairs with an extravagant wave of his hand. Almost in unison, Katniss and I both grab a chair and sit down, glancing at each other as we do so. We both want answers and I can tell that Katniss is becoming more and more impatient.
"Now, before either of you start in on me," Haymitch begins, "I just wanna say that you were gonna be brought in on this...at the right time."
"Which is now," Katniss replies flatly.
"Because your boyfriend had to go snoopin' around in my basement!" Haymitch points out sharply. "Even after Hazelle made it a point to tell him to stay the fuck out!"
"I already told you," Katniss says tightly, "he came over to -"
"- get a tool kit," Haymitch finishes. "Yeah, Sweetheart, you explained all that before." Haymitch rubs his face tiredly, tightly pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger before continuing. "But you're here. We'll just have to rearrange the time line a little. Okay. I guess introductions are in order."
Haymitch lurches to his feet. With another exaggerated gesture, he says, "Ladies and gentlemen, you already know Peeta Mellark. I now give you the Victor of the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games...Katniss Everdeen."
The woman called Jackson was the only one of the strangers to show absolutely no emotion at the announcement. Mitchell and the other two, however, were far from emotionless.
"It's such an honor to meet you -" "I thought she was taller. Didn't you think she was taller?" "Holy shit. It's really her. The Mockingjay -"
Katniss rises to her feet with considerably more grace than Haymitch had. She nods slightly at Mitchell and says, "Nice to meet you too." She then turns to the other male stranger...a man of medium build and very average, nondescript appearance, and says, "Sorry to disappoint you," before turning to the last stranger...a young, blonde woman.
"What did you call me? A mockingjay?"
"Not 'a' mockingjay, Soldier Everdeen," Jackson corrects with a small smirk. I make a snap decision. I don't like this woman. "You are 'the' Mockingjay."
"You lost me," Katniss says in confusion. "Why the fuck am I 'the' Mockingjay?"
"Perhaps we should finish the introductions," Haymitch says hastily. "You've already met Jackson -"
"Lieutenant Jackson," the woman snaps.
"Excuse me. Lieutenant Jackson," Haymitch continues. "This guy -"
"Haymitch," Katniss's voice is tinged with impatience.
"- this guy has already made Peeta's acquaintance." Haymitch shoots Katniss a look before continuing. "At least, his large gun has. This is Mitch-...I mean, Soldier Mitchell."
"It's an honor," Mitchell repeats, rising slowly to his feet.
"Likewise," Katniss replies impatiently, giving Mitchell a quick nod. She turns back towards Haymitch. "Haymitch -"
"And this gentleman sitting back here is Soldier Homes." Homes rises to his feet, giving Katniss and I a quick nod, which we both return just as perfunctorily.
"You look bigger on TV," Homes states stubbornly.
"I know," is Katniss's simple response.
"And finally," Haymitch says with another flourish, "Our last soldier. Soldier Leeg." The blonde woman rises to her feet and smiles shyly at Katniss.
"It really is an honor to meet you," she says, almost breathlessly. "Your courage, your strength, your selflessness...you are such an inspiration to us all."
Katniss blushes at the praise that Soldier Leeg is heaping on her. "I'm really not anything special," she mutters.
A soft knock on the basement door prevents any further conversation for a moment, as Hazelle descends the stairs with a tray containing a teapot, milk, sugar, and seven cups.
"Thank you, Hazelle," Haymitch says with a smile. "Go ahead and set it on the table, there." Hazelle quickly moves to the table, setting the tray down and passing out teacups. Haymitch waves his cup away and adds, "Why don't you stick around? You're as deep in this as anyone else, after all."
"She doesn't have a 'need to know,'" Jackson says sharply.
Haymitch turns to the dark haired woman, a look of annoyance on his face. "Missy, I'll decide who needs to know what around here! And, in case you forgot, Hazelle's oldest son was Katniss's district partner in her Games. She's got just as much at stake...and as much to lose...as any of us in this room. Got it?"
Jackson doesn't answer, but simply glares sullenly at Haymitch. Haymitch grins crookedly at Jackson before turning to Hazelle. "There. It's settled. Hazelle, take a load off."
Hazelle sits...reluctantly, it seems to me...while the Mitchell, Homes, and Leeg busy themselves with pouring tea. After a moment's hesitation, Jackson joins them. Haymitch sits back in his chair, that same crooked grin on his face as he pulls a flask from his coat pocket, unscrewing the cap and taking a quick pull before turning back to Katniss and I.
"Questions?" Haymitch asks.
"Just one," Katniss replies, rather coldly. "What's all this 'Mockingjay' bullshit?"
Katniss's question obviously makes Haymitch uncomfortable. "I'll explain later."
"You haven't told her?" Jackson asks with a smirk.
"Told me what?" Katniss asks sharply. "No one's told me shit!"
"Jackson -" Haymitch begins, his tone a warning.
"'Lieutenant' Jackson," she corrects almost absently, before turning to Katniss. "You see, Soldier Everdeen, the use of the Mockingjay symbol goes back many years as the symbol of the Rebellion. The Mockingjay, after all, is an animal that exists in spite of the Capitol, rather than because of it. It's a living reminder that the Capitol is vulnerable. And it's always been the secret symbol of the Rebellion, going all the way back to the Dark Days."
"Wait a minute," I say in confusion. "The Dark Days? The Rebellion failed. That's why we have the Treaty of Treason and the Hunger Games."
Jackson nods, even as Haymitch says, "Jackson...now ain't the time or place -"
Jackson sighs, shaking her head. "No? When, then, Soldier Abernathy? I think that Soldier Everdeen has a right to know what her role is."
Katniss looks from Jackson to Haymitch, anger once again flashing in her eyes. "My 'role?' Somebody better start making some sense."
"Sweetheart, it's like this," Haymitch begins, before Jackson cuts him off again.
"The First Rebellion failed...mostly because there was no unified effort against the Capitol. It was thirteen districts fighting thirteen separate wars. Once the Capitol crushed the strong districts it was an easy task to bring the others under their heel. The Rebellion never died, though...it just went underground. And we've been biding our time ever since, waiting for the right time, waiting for the spark that would unite every district in Panem under a common cause. And that spark is you, Soldier Everdeen."
"No," Katniss protests. "No! I'm not a 'spark.' I'm not this 'Mockingjay!' I'm just a seventeen year old girl -"
"- who was the first non-Career Volunteer since the Forty-Sixth Hunger Games," Jackson continues. "Who was the first non-Career Volunteer to ever win the Games. Whose motives for Volunteering were noble, and selfless, and courageous."
"I did it to save my sister," Katniss replies. "I did it for Prim!"
"And you inspired thousands...even millions," Jackson says. "There's unrest all over Panem. Things can't continue the way they've been without something catastrophic happening. The districts are on a slow boil and they're ready to erupt. But, without unity of purpose...without cooperation...this Rebellion will fail just as surely as the last one. A symbol is needed...something that the people can relate to. Something that they can rally behind. A living, breathing Mockingjay."
Katniss turns toward Haymitch. "How long have you known about this?" Her voice is quiet, and very controlled. Katniss is furious. "How long before you let me in on your little secret?"
"Sweetheart," Haymitch replies carefully, "it's like this -"
Katniss leaps to her feet, her hand striking out. The sharp sound of the slap echoes in the basement as Haymitch's head rocks back. "You son of a bitch! You knew all along that they wanted to use me! You knew, and you said nothing! Not...one...fucking...word!"
Katniss spins and faces the strangers. "Forget it. I'm not a symbol. I'm not this 'Mockingjay.' I'm Katniss Everdeen, from District Twelve. I'm seventeen years old. I survived the Hunger Games. I was a...was a...I was forced to do...horrible things. I hate the Capitol as much as anyone, but if you think that I'm what Panem needs to overthrow Snow, well, you're mistaken. All of you!" She pauses and looks around the dark, musty room. "What the fuck were you people thinking? What the fuck do you think Snow would do to Twelve if he knew that I was this 'Mockingjay?' I want Snow dead...but not at the expense of Twelve being destroyed, like Thirteen was in the Dark Days!"
Silence. For long moments no one says anything. Finally, Jackson rises slowly to her feet, facing Katniss with an unflinching stare. "Soldier, I understand your concerns. But you're wrong about one thing."
"What's that?" Katniss, her emotions still running high, challenges Jackson.
"District Thirteen," Jackson replies calmly. "It wasn't destroyed." Jackson indicates the other three strangers with a sweep of her hand. "If that were the case, then none of us would be sitting here right now."
The meaning of Jackson's words sink into my brain ever so slowly. I can only stare in amazement, even as Katniss says, "Are you trying to tell me that you're from..."
"That's right," Jackson might as well be discussing the weather, as calm as she is. "We're all from District Thirteen."
PART II
"Peeta?" Sae calls out from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready!"
I glance up from the book I had been reading...a Capitol-approved history of the Dark Days. I had been lingering on the section regarding the destruction of District Thirteen. "Yes, Sae," I reply, carefully putting the book on the table next to my chair and standing up. "Coming."
I'm breaking from my new routine of having dinner with the Everdeens. Mrs. Everdeen's oven is still broken...my plan for borrowing Haymitch's tool kit and cannibalizing the over from one of the other homes delayed, at least for now. I had invited the Everdeens over for dinner that evening, of course...only to be met with a polite refusal.
Poor Katniss. She's still really shaken up by the events of today. So am I, for that matter.
It's disorienting to discover that everything that you've been taught about the Dark Days has been a lie. We had always been taught that District Thirteen had been completely obliterated during the First Rebellion...I have come to think of it as the "First," now that the reality of another has taken root...and that Thirteen was left so toxic as a result that even now, after more than three quarters of a century later, it's still completely uninhabitable.
Yet another lie by the Capitol.
Dinner smells wonderful. I sit down to a thick, savory stew. "Sae, you've outdone yourself," I say as I inhale the aroma.
Sae smiles at the compliment. Her ever-present granddaughter smiles as well, even though I doubt if the girl understands what we're talking about. "Thank you, Peeta. I've made enough for the Everdeens as well. Maybe you could run it over to them later."
I nod. It's a perfect excuse to find some time to speak with Katniss. "I'll do that," I say as I dig in, my appetite returning with each bite. Sae says goodnight and leaves quickly. I know that she eats before I do, on those infrequent nights where she has to cook for me. She's never accepted an invitation to sit down with me.
I eat with a newfound appetite, brought on, no doubt, by Sae's wonderful cooking. I eat in silence, mulling over the events of the day, trying to sort out this incredible revelation.
Far from being the toxic wasteland that I had been taught it was, District Thirteen is alive and well.
According to my teachings (and the book that I had been reading), District Thirteen's chief industry had been graphite mining...but nuclear development had been their real value to the Capitol. Thirteen constructed nuclear weapons for the Capitol...for what purpose remains unclear, as no other civilization seems to have emerged from the Catastrophes except our own nation of Panem. Nevertheless, they constructed nuclear weapons...bombs capable of being dropped from high-altitude hovercraft as well as being capable of being carried by long-range missiles.
Thirteen had been forefront in the First Rebellion...leading the fight against the Capitol. But, because there was no unity of purpose, no real cooperation between districts, the Rebellion eventually failed...and, by all appearances and accounts, the Capitol totally destroyed District Thirteen, sending a message to the twelve surviving districts.
Only it didn't happen that way. District Thirteen suffered terribly during the Rebellion and, in desperation, threatened the Capitol with the only weapons that only they and the Capitol possessed.
"It's called 'mutually assured destruction,'" Haymitch had explained. "Thirteen had their backs against the wall...using nukes was the only option that they had left. Of course, the Capitol has nukes also...so both sides aimed their missiles at the other and waited for someone to blink first."
In the end, it was the Capitol that blinked. They hammered out a secret treaty with District Thirteen...we allow you to live secretly as an autonomous nation, and, in return, we both stand down with our nuclear weapons.
Thirteen had already suffered terribly...the surface was virtually uninhabitable, thanks to the Capitol's liberal use of chemical weapons (the only reason that they survived at all was due to a vast underground infrastructure, where they had secretly turned played-out graphite mines into a virtual underground city...it seems that Thirteen had been planning to revolt against the Capitol for several decades), and being allowed to secede was infinitely preferable to nuclear incineration.
"We agreed to the Capitol's terms," Jackson had added to Haymitch's explanation. "It wasn't easy...we knew that our actions were condemning the rest of Panem to an even more oppressive environment than ever before...but we also knew that we would be of no use if we and the Capitol succeeded in destroying each other."
"I don't understand," I had replied in confusion. "Don't you want to destroy the Capitol?"
To my surprise, Jackson had shaken her head. "No. The Capitol has all of the resources in place necessary for governing a nation. Our goal is to remove the present corrupt government and leave the infrastructure in place, to be used by the new government."
The new government. I had realized at that point that I had given no thought as to what would replace Snow's regime...assuming, of course, that this Rebellion was successful. We would need a new government, with new leaders...leaders that would have the best interests of all Panem at heart. And I had absolutely no idea where we would find these people.
Jackson had answered one question. In our first meeting she had mentioned someone that she had called 'President Coin' to Mitchell...when she was trying to convince Mitchell to not shoot me. It turns out that she had been referring to the leader of District Thirteen, President Alma Coin. Jackson spoke of her almost worshipfully, describing her as a strong leader. She carried the title of 'President' because District Thirteen was, for all intents and purposes, its own nation.
Did Jackson have President Alma Coin in mind as the new leader of a Free Panem?
It was almost too much to take in for one day. I finish my dinner, quickly clean up, and gather up the leftover stew and a fresh loaf of bread, and head over to Katniss's house. Maybe, just maybe, she'll feel like talking now. And, if not...well, she, Prim, and Mrs. Everdeen need to eat.
"You didn't have to do this, Peeta," Mrs. Everdeen says as I hand her and Prim the tureen of stew and the loaf of bread.
"It's no problem, really," I explain with a smile. "Sae made enough for everyone."
"Well, it smells delicious," Mrs. Everdeen replies. "Would you like to join us?"
"I've eaten already, thank you," I say.
"Next time," Mrs. Everdeen says, and then turns to Prim. "Prim, could you go get your sister and tell her that dinner's ready?"
"She won't come down," Prim replies firmly. "She's locked herself in her room every since she came back from Haymitch's house. Every time I try to talk to her she just tells me to go away." Prim gives me a look that asks the question, what's going on?
I shake my head once, very slightly. Not now. Later.
"Let me try," I volunteer.
"Good luck," Mrs. Everdeen calls out as I ascend the stairs. I think she has a right to be upset, I say to myself. After all, it's not every day that you're told that you are the symbol...no, the very face of a Rebellion.
I pause for a moment outside her door before knocking softly, twice. "Go away, Prim," a muffled voice says from within the room.
"I just came up to tell you that I've brought dinner over," I reply.
I don't have long to wait. I hear the lock being turned, and the door slowly opens to reveal a very small, scared looking Katniss Everdeen standing on the other side.
She immediately wraps her arms around me and, for a few seconds, I just hold her close to me. Finally, she pulls back and looks up at me, her silvery-gray eyes shining softly.
"It's stew," I explain. "Sae made it. I brought a loaf of bread over as well."
Katniss finally offers me a small smile. "Well, if Sae made it, I know it'll be good."
I lean in close so I can whisper. "Do you want to talk?"
Katniss shakes her head very slightly. "Not now," she whispers. "After dinner. I don't want Mom or Prim to wonder what's going on any more than they already are."
"Okay," I whisper back, then, in a normal voice, "You need to eat something. Come over after dinner, though, okay?"
Katniss smiles and nods, kissing me quickly. "Count on it."
We walk downstairs together and she sees me to the door. "I'll see you later," I say. "Tell your mom and sister I said goodbye."
"Okay," Katniss says. "And Peeta? Thanks."
"Anytime," I reply with a smile as the door closes behind me.
I'm still reading the book on the history of Panem when Katniss comes over.
I hear a soft knock at my front door...three quick taps, followed by the sound of the door opening, and Katniss calling out softly, "Peeta?"
I put the book down and stand up, wincing slightly. My prosthetic leg has been irritating me a little lately. "In here," I reply, walking out of the living room toward the front door.
Katniss is waiting patiently by the open door. "Why don't we take a walk around the Village?" She suggests. Good. She wants to talk.
"Good idea," I reply as I grab a lightweight coat from the coat rack near the door. Together we step out into the early spring evening. I breathe deeply. The air is cool, not cold, and the smell of rain is heavy in the air.
Katniss casually laces her fingers into mine. The ease at which she takes her hand in mine never ceases to make me smile.
Katniss sees me smile. "What?"
"Just this," I reply as I hold up our hands. "This never fails to make me feel good."
"I'm glad," she says softly. We stay on the paved surface of the Circle. The Green is more brown than green at this time of year...especially after the rain we got earlier in the evening.
I decide to start things off. "A lot to take in today," I say cautiously.
"Yeah," Katniss replies softly, then, "Did you know? Please tell me if you did."
"About the Mockingjay thing?" I ask. Katniss nods. "No. I never heard anything until today."
"I...I didn't think so," Katniss stammers, "but I had to be sure. I just...Peeta, I don't know if I can."
"I know." I can't imagine what she's going through right now. Nice to meet you, and, oh, by the way...we're from a district that you've always been taught was destroyed during the Dark Days, and, while I'm on the subject, we've decided that you're to be the living symbol of the New Rebellion.
"What if I can't?" Katniss asks miserably.
"Then you can't," I reply firmly. "And that's all there is to it."
"It's not that easy," Katniss continues. "What if I don't and Thirteen decides not to help? They've got things that we'll need...hovercraft, guns, soldiers. We need all those things, Peeta! It won't do us any good if the districts are unified, but fighting the Capitol with pick handles, axes, and scythes!"
"They'll help," I reply. "They want Snow gone as badly as we do."
The sound of a door slamming surprises both of us. We stop and turn, watching as Haymitch emerges from his house, lumbering down his walkway towards us.
"Hi, kids!" He calls out cheerfully. "Feel like company?"
"No," Katniss says flatly. "Go crawl back into your hole, Haymitch!"
"Aww, don't be like that, Sweetheart," Haymitch replies, puffing slightly as he catches up with us. "Look, I was gonna tell you everything eventually."
"That's the problem with you, Haymitch," I point out. "Everything is 'eventually' or 'later.'"
"You're impossible," Katniss mutters as Haymitch falls in next to us as we continue to walk. "Can't you get the hint that you're not wanted?"
"I came out here for a reason," Haymitch replies, "and it's not because I was missin' your sunny personality. I figured you two would have some questions."
"And you'll answer them? Truthfully?" I look at him skeptically.
"The way I see it, I owe you some answers," Haymitch says quietly.
"Okay," Katniss says. "Equinox. I looked it up. It means the two days of the year where day and night are exactly the same length. And we just had one. The Vernal Equinox...the first day of spring."
"And?" Haymitch asks.
"And," Katniss continues, "now we have four soldiers from Thirteen here. They were brought in on the Equinox."
"Almost," Haymitch says. "You got it partly right. Operation Equinox was the infiltration of our four guests from Thirteen. But it wasn't on the equinox. It was thirteen days after the equinox. That way, if Thread got wind of it, when nothing happened on the equinox he would let his guard down. But I don't think he got wind of it," Haymitch adds hastily.
"How did you get them in?" I ask.
"A stealth hovercraft...that's one that's specially configured so it doesn't show up on radar or infrared...flew them to your old stomping grounds, Sweetheart," Haymitch replies, directing the last at Katniss. "They came in at night. At thirteen minutes past midnight on the thirteenth day after equinox, one of Darius's Peacekeeper operatives turned off the perimeter fence for exactly thirteen minutes. Darius met them personally and escorted them here. I already had everything set up for their arrival. That was four days ago."
"And you're gonna hide them in your basement forever?" Katniss asks skeptically.
"These people were chosen carefully," Haymitch says, "because of their ability to fit in to the population here, without attracting undue attention to themselves. It ain't feasible to keep them hidden until..." Haymitch pauses for a moment.
"'Until' when, Haymitch?" I prompt.
"Until they're needed," Haymitch finishes lamely. "For now, we'll introduce them into the population gradually."
"Holding something back, Haymitch?" Katniss asks archly. "I thought you were gonna answer all of our questions truthfully."
Haymitch is silent for a moment. Finally, "Okay. I'll let you in on some of it now...not all. Not just yet." Haymitch pauses again. "They're here to liaison between us and Thirteen...and to help us jump start the Rebellion."
"What does that mean?" I ask. "'Jump-start the Rebellion?'"
"Because," Haymitch replies slowly, "it starts here. In Twelve. The first battle will be fought right here."
I feel a cold chill in the pit of my stomach at Haymitch's words as Katniss asks the logical question. "When?" Oh Snow. It begins here. The first battle will be fought here.
"Soon," Haymitch says. "And that's all I'll say on the subject...for now."
Katniss and I both recognize the tone. Haymitch has said all that he's willing to say for now. It won't do us any good to try to press the issue.
"You said that they were 'chosen,'" Katniss says, changing the subject. "Who chose them?"
"Boggs," Haymitch replies. "Their commander. He's a colonel in District Thirteen's military, and their chief of security. Jackson says that he wanted to command this mission personally." Haymitch chuckles. "I asked her why he didn't. All she would say is that he would stick out like a sore thumb. She said that I'd understand if I ever get the chance to meet him."
"How did they even get involved? District Thirteen, I mean?" I ask.
"All I know is, Plutarch's been in communication with them for over two years now," Haymitch explains. "He won't tell me how they managed to contact him originally. He did say that the decision to actually go forth with the start of the New Rebellion was fueled, in part, by your relationship with Peeta. He loves that 'Blood Soaked Lovers of District Twelve' bit."
"And me being this 'Mockingjay,'" Katniss adds bitterly.
"Sweetheart, like it or not, you are immensely popular in the other districts," Haymitch says patiently. "Even after those truly awful propos that you shot for Snow. And Peeta is a close second to you. Your story is compelling...especially since just about everyone out there can relate. Growing up dirt poor, half starved all the time...three-quarters of Panem has experienced your struggle. Sweetheart, they look at you and see themselves."
"And what if I don't want it?" Katniss asks, the challenge clear. Does my possible refusal constitute a withdrawal of help from Thirteen?
"That's your choice, of course," Haymitch replies stiffly. "And, just so you know, I'll support whatever decision you make."
"Even if I say no?" Katniss asks.
"Even if you say no," Haymitch confirms. "Sweetheart, you aren't a good enough actress to lie to people convincingly. If you're gonna be the Mockingjay, you're gonna have to want to be the Mockingjay. Personally, I'd much rather have you not do it if your heart ain't in it."
"I just don't know," Katniss says, her voice almost a whisper. "What do you think Snow will do to the district once he sees me telling people to rise up against him?"
"His reaction will be the same regardless," Haymitch points out. "He'll retaliate no matter what."
"And what about you, Haymitch?" I ask suddenly.
"What about me?" Haymitch looks at me warily.
"When all is said and done, where will you stand with the new government?" I ask bluntly.
"I won't," Haymitch replies evenly. "I won't because I doubt if I'll survive long enough to see the Rebellion through to the end."
No one much felt like talking any more after that.
PART III
Over the next week or so, Katniss and I both get to know our strange guests from District Thirteen a little better. Well, we try to, at any rate.
Lieutenant Jackson, the leader, is close-mouthed about her personal life. We do manage to determine that she's in her forties, unmarried ("a soldier has a duty to remain as free from distractions as possible"), and no children. She is completely dedicated to her job and to her President, Alma Coin.
Mitchell is the oldest. He's somewhat older than Haymitch and is easily the most taciturn. For him, everything revolves around the successful accomplishment of his assigned mission. We manage to learn from the others that Mitchell is a deadly accurate marksman and can "shoot the dust off your boots at fifty meters."
Homes, the other male member of the team, remains quiet in the beginning, although he never does say much of anything even when he does open up a bit. Like Jackson, he's totally devoted to their President Coin. A marksman like Mitchell, he's somewhere in his mid-thirties.
Leeg is the youngest...somewhere in her early twenties...and the easiest to talk to. Of course, her hero worship of Katniss plays a large part is getting her to open up to Katniss and I. We learn that she has a twin sister back in Thirteen and that her father is still alive. We also learn that her mother died in a mysterious epidemic some years ago, and that many of the men that became ill during that same epidemic were rendered sterile. Katniss and I learn more about the mysterious District Thirteen from Leeg than we did from the other three combined.
Life in District Thirteen is Spartan, with luxuries and creature comforts being almost nonexistent. The district, by necessity, is the only truly self-sufficient district in all Panem. Everything that they need, they produce or manufacture themselves. Even though the surface is no longer toxic, the only activities that take place there are related to raising food animals such as rabbits and chickens. Beef is almost unheard of...their cattle are raised for dairy rather than meat...although pork products appear on the menu from time to time. Pigs will eat anything, including what Leeg refers to as "edible garbage," and so are remarkably easy to breed and farm.
There are sheep...raised for wool rather than for meat. Most of the farming, in fact, is done underground, rather than on the surface, using what Leeg describes as "hydroponic" or "soilless" farming. The Thirteens are hyper sensitive to their fear of attack by the Capitol, even after a decades-long cease-fire, and prefer to keep as much underground as possible.
Everything, and I mean everything, is rationed and recycled in District Thirteen. That explains, in part, why Leeg and the rest of the Thirteens reacted so enthusiastically to something as simple as Hazelle Hawthorne bringing them tea.
"Tea and coffee are rationed," Leeg had explained. "We only see tea and coffee when there's a need to ingest stimulants. And never with milk and sugar."
Leeg went on to explain that how much a person was given to eat was directly related to how many calories they burned at their assigned job. "No one starves," Leeg had said. "But, at the same time, no one ever walks away from the mess hall full, either."
Katniss and I learned one other fact about daily life in District Thirteen. Everyone, and I mean everyone, over the age of sixteen is a soldier. In fact, it's a coveted badge of honor to be able to be addressed as "Soldier."
Your job is Poultry Tender? You feed chickens and collect eggs with a pistol strapped to your waist. You're a Cook in the mess hall? All well and good...but if you work the early shift (breakfast and lunch) then you have two hours of mandatory combat drill in the afternoon. The schedule is reversed for the cooks that work the late shift. The same is true for Electrical Technicians, Administrative Specialists, Maintenance Workers, Construction Engineers, and Medical Technicians...all are trained to fight, if necessary.
And some, like our guests, are soldiers by trade.
Jackson is the leader. A lieutenant...an officer...she's worked her way up through the ranks and is respected by every member of her team. Mitchell and Homes are both expert marksmen. Leeg is the communications specialist, maintaining the link between the team here in Twelve and her home in Thirteen. So far, that has consisted of sending a brief, coded message twice a day at irregular intervals, just confirming that the team is still, in her words, "operational."
"What would happen," I had asked, "if they didn't receive a message from you?"
"If I miss two consecutive messages," Leeg had replied, "they would assume that we've been compromised, and they would attempt to discover our fate through alternate means."
I didn't bother to ask what those "alternate means" were. I doubt if she would tell me. Instead I asked, "And what if you had been, what was it you said? 'Compromised?'"
"The mission would be scrubbed...cancelled," Leeg had replied. "But don't worry. We've trained long and hard for this. By the time Snow realizes that we're here it'll be too late for him to do anything about it."
Leeg had told us that a child in District Thirteen begins military training at the age of fourteen, and, for the next two years, is continually tested and evaluated. At the age of sixteen, and after a special ceremony, they are allowed to affix the honorific "Soldier" to their name.
"I don't understand," Katniss had said. "You call me 'Soldier' Everdeen. You call Peeta 'Soldier' Mellark. You even call Haymitch 'Soldier' Abernathy. We've never been through your training."
"You're all Victors, though," Leeg explained quietly. "You've fought...and killed. That qualifies you as Soldiers."
"And what about you, Leeg?" I had asked. "Have you fought...or killed...anyone?"
"I've successfully completed over one hundred full length combat sims," Leeg had replied, somewhat defensively. "Lieutenant Jackson, along with Soldiers Mitchell and Homes, have completed far more."
"But none of you have ever actually killed anyone," Katniss had said.
Leeg had been silent for a moment. "No," she finally admitted.
Katniss and I both agree that the chances of this mission...whatever it may actually turn out to be...succeeding aren't quite as great as Haymitch has led us to believe.
PART IV
Part one of Operation Equinox was to successfully infiltrate the team from District Thirteen into District Twelve. Part two was to integrate the team into day-to-day life in the district.
"Unfortunately," Haymitch is saying during yet another basement meeting, "Twelve is too small to just shove the four of you out there and say 'blend in.' We can put you all in district clothing and you'll look the part...but if any of you has to do any talking much beyond 'Good morning,' well, your accents will give you away in a heartbeat."
"We have the option of remaining clandestine, if the alternative will compromise the chances of the op being successful. Why don't we just sit tight here until...we're needed?" Jackson asks. I wince inwardly, aware that Jackson came very close to revealing when the Rebellion was actually supposed to start.
Katniss noticed that as well. "And when, exactly, is that?" She turns and addresses Haymitch directly. "Don't you think it's about time that you let Peeta and I in on the 'big day?'"
Jackson shoots a warning glance at Haymitch, who is visibly torn between his promise to us to not hold anything back, and the obsession that Jackson has for what she calls "operational security."
"You're right," Haymitch says firmly. He turns to Jackson and says, "They got a right to know everything. Sorry, Jackson. I've kept my trap shut long enough."
"It's 'Lieutenant' Jackson," Jackson corrects him tiredly. "Fuck it. Go ahead. It's their ass on the line too. Besides, I'm tired of arguing about it with you."
Haymitch shoots Jackson a surprised look. I can't say that I blame him. Jackson has been allowing information to be passed on to Katniss and I with an eyedropper. In effect, this is like her turning on a garden hose as a replacement for that eyedropper.
"Well," Haymitch says in surprise, uncapping his flask and taking a quick pull before continuing, "that was unexpected." He caps his flask and looks at Katniss and I. "Okay. Here it is. The, uh, Games. They'll be a little different this year."
"In what way?" Katniss asks warily.
"If all goes according to plan," Haymitch continues, "they won't even happen."
I don't know which of us was more shocked...Katniss or I. Katniss recovers first. "Go on. You've got our attention."
"Do either of you know how the Reapings work?" Haymitch asks.
"You mean, the reading of the Treaty of Treason, Effie beginning with the girls, that sort of thing?" I ask impatiently.
"I meant for all Panem, not just District Twelve," Haymitch explains.
"I never gave it much thought," Katniss admits. "I just thought it would be the same in pretty much each district."
"It is...to an extent," Haymitch says. "There's a two hour time difference between us and the Capitol...three hours between us and the westernmost regions of Districts One, Three, and Seven. So, when we have our Reaping at two, in some places it's still before noon."
"I don't see -" I begin, before Haymitch cuts me off with a wave of his hand.
"I'm gettin' to that, boy," he says irritably. "Twelve is further east than any other district in Panem, not counting Thirteen, of course. Our Reaping starts promptly at two. Now, if every other district had their Reapings at two that would mean that Districts Six and Eleven would be Reaping the same time as we do, Districts Four, Five, Eight, Nine and Ten would be an hour later, and Districts One, Two, Three, and Seven would be two hours later. Follow me so far?"
"We already knew about the time differences," Katniss replies, her irritation plainly evident in her voice. "But you said that it's three hours between us and One, Three, and Seven...not two."
"Sweetheart, you've been there," Haymitch says patiently. "Their District centers are all on Capitol time. Two hours behind us. Anyway," Haymitch continues, "The Capitol wants to get maximum coverage of every aspect of the Games every year, beginning with the Reapings. So, each district is required to view the Reapings of every other district live, as they happen...with exceptions. Do you know what the exceptions are?"
"Us," I reply immediately. "I've never seen a live broadcast of another Reaping. Just the recaps on Mandatory Viewing that night."
"Exactly!" Haymitch grins triumphantly. "We don't watch any live Reapings because we're the first. But I can see the wheels turning in your heads. 'Wait a minute, Haymitch. What about Six and Eleven? They're on the same time as us.' Well, here's your answer."
Haymitch pauses for a moment as Katniss and I literally lean forward. This aspect of the Reapings is all new to us both. Haymitch glances at Katniss and I before continuing.
"Reapings are staggered at ten minute intervals in reverse district order," he continues. "We're always the first, followed by Eleven ten minutes later, then Ten, Nine, and so forth. All at ten minute intervals from the previous district...so Eleven only has to view our Reaping, Ten views both ours and Elevens, and on down the line to District One, who gets the privilege of standing and watching all of the other districts get Reaped for almost two hours." Haymitch chuckles softly. "In a way, we're lucky. We don't have to sit through two hours of live broadcasts."
"This is all very fascinating, Haymitch, but I don't see what it has to do with them," Katniss says impatiently, indicating the District Thirteen soldiers with a sweep of her arm.
"Think about it," Haymitch says softly. "The Reapings are broadcast live, as they happen. The only thing that the Capitol can do is to interrupt the broadcast, which is easily circumvented...with the right technology."
Haymitch's words begin to sink in as the realization of what he's saying now, combined with what we've been told before, finally coalesces. "The Rebellion begins here," I whisper. "It starts here, like you said before."
"Correct," Haymitch confirms. "And it begins for all of Panem to witness."
"The Reaping," Katniss adds softly. "With all the cameras, and with the entire nation watching. But how?"
"That's where we come in, Soldier," Jackson replies. "We four, plus the Rebel Peacekeepers, plus your own Rebel faction here in Twelve."
"How many Peacekeepers are stationed here?" Katniss asks.
"Somewhere between eighty and ninety," Jackson replies. "Of course, that figure doesn't include the security detachment on the Tribute Train, or the hovercraft on station nearby."
"So figure about a hundred," Katniss says flatly. "One hundred armed, trained Peacekeepers against the four of you?" She glances around at the faces in the basement, her look one of mixed amazement and fury. "Are you all insane?"
"You're forgetting Darius Potter and his Rebel Peacekeepers," Jackson adds. "He's never given us a count, but by all indications there are five or six Peacekeepers that are a part of this plan. Not to mention you three Victors, and other Rebel elements here in Twelve."
"So what are we up to now? Something less than twenty?" Katniss's voice is rising with each word. Her face is flushed and her chest is heaving with each breath. I can't say that I blame her. Reaping Day is when every Peacekeeper in the district is on duty. What did Jackson and the rest of her team expect the Peacekeepers to do once it was apparent that a full-fledged uprising was taking place?
"Katniss," I say firmly, gently placing my hand on her arm. "Let me." Katniss shoots me a look and I see panic in her eyes. I've never seen panic in her eyes before. I give her a small, hopefully reassuring smile before turning back to face Jackson and Haymitch.
"Maybe now would be a good time for you to tell us exactly how you manage to pull this off," I say, addressing Jackson and Haymitch both.
"My team will be strategically positioned in the crowd, with each of as near as possible to Peacekeeper teams," Jackson explains carefully. "We'll have the element of surprise in our favor. When we hear our trigger word, we pull our pistols and begin shooting. The Peacekeepers won't be expecting immediate, armed resistance and we're counting on them to hesitate and be confused by the initial attack."
"At the same time," Haymitch adds, "The Rebel Peacekeepers will be doing the same thing...attacking Peacekeeper teams. These attacks will be totally unexpected...and this will add to the general confusion."
"Even though we'll be outnumbered," Jackson continues, "the element of surprise should allow us to neutralize thirty to forty percent of the threat before they even have a chance to pull their own guns. Plus, we'll have other Rebel elements in the crowd attacking Peacekeepers with locally fabricated weapons...and, as Peacekeepers begin to fall, we'll be able to turn their own weapons against them."
"And the whole thing will be on a national broadcast for all Panem to see," Haymitch says confidently. "Our uprising will be a trigger for other districts to immediately rise up simultaneously. Snow won't know whether to shit or go blind!"
Katniss and I sit in stunned silence as the "plan" is revealed to us. What did they think...that Peacekeepers were just going to stand by and calmly wait for someone to shoot them, stab them, or bash their heads in?
"What about the crowd?" Katniss asks in a hushed voice.
"What do you mean?" Jackson replies, her brow furrowed in puzzlement.
"The crowd," Katniss repeats. "What do you think will be happening with the crowd? They'll hear gunshots, see Peacekeepers go down, and get spattered with blood. They'll panic, Haymitch! You know that as well as me! You want an Uprising? You're gonna have a fucking panicked riot on your hands! And what about my sister?"
Haymitch frowns. "Your sis -" he begins, but then realization dawns and his expression changes from confusion to horrified comprehension.
"Yeah," Katniss practically snarls. "My sister. Prim will be smack dab in the middle of a fucking riot! Who's gonna watch out for her? Huh? Who, Haymitch? Who, Jackson?"
Jackson looks stunned, but I'll give her credit...she recovers nicely. "Of course, we'll do everything possible to limit collateral damage -"
"Collateral damage?" Katniss practically shouts. "These are people we're talking about here, you stupid bitch! People! Do you think for a minute that Peacekeepers won't hesitate to fire into a crowd to get to you?"
"Sweetheart, calm down," Haymitch's voice is tinged with urgency. "This is just a general outline. Nothing is firm yet. Believe me, by Reaping Day, almost all of the casualties will be the Peacekeepers."
Katniss stares at Haymitch for a single, long minute before replying. "Not good enough," she says as she rises to her feet. "And you can count me out. No Mockingjay. No 'symbol of the Rebellion.' If you can't guarantee Prim's safety, then don't even bother talking to me." And, with that, Katniss spins, stomps up the stairs, and slams the basement door shut as she leaves.
We all sit in stunned silence for a moment, until Jackson is the first to speak.
"We have to convince her," she says. "Without the Mockingjay, the Rebellion will fail."
Haymitch glances at Jackson. "She's right, you know." He rubs his hands over his face before continuing. "This plan, as it stands right now, sucks, to be honest. There's far too much 'collateral damage' for my taste. No, we need to rethink this...work with Darius, Silenus, and July until we have something workable. Until then...I'm with the Mockingjay."
"Stop calling her that!" I bark sharply. "She hasn't agreed to anything!"
"You have to convince her, Soldier," Jackson replies firmly.
I laugh bitterly. "Me? Are you fucking kidding me? You say you want a revolution? What you've described makes a Games Bloodbath look like a shaving cut by comparison!"
"Did you think this was going to be clean and bloodless?" Jackson demands. "No one hurt except Peacekeepers and Capitolites? This is war, Soldier!"
"The voice of experience?" I ask sarcastically. "Based on the hundreds of combat sims you've successfully completed?" I see Jackson flush as I mention her inexperience with actual combat. "Let me tell you something. Killing isn't easy." I stand up. "If this is the best that District Thirteen can do, then count me out as well." I turn and walk towards the stairs.
"Peeta -" Haymitch's voice stops me. "We'll figure this out. We have over two months to fine tune this."
I don't turn around. "You better, Haymitch. It won't do any good to have a Rebellion if there's no one left when it's over to rebuild."
After I leave Haymitch's house, I head straight for the Everdeen home, only to be told that Katniss wasn't there either. A quick check of my house confirms that she didn't go there, either.
I have a good idea of where she might have gone. Before I leave, I grab two items and shove both in my pockets before heading out.
There's still a chill in the air, even though spring is almost three weeks old. I glance up toward the sky and see clouds gathering, blocking out the afternoon sun. I pull my collar up and walk a little faster.
My hunch is right. Katniss is sitting in the Meadow, staring out beyond the perimeter fence toward her beloved forest, her knees drawn up, her arms clasped around her legs. I know she can hear me walking up to her but she doesn't move from her spot or acknowledge me. I reach her and lower myself to the ground next to her.
"How did you know where to look for me?"
I glance at Katniss and give her a knowing grin. "Where else would you be? I figured either here or your old Seam house."
"Am I that predictable?" Katniss leans in towards me, nestling her head against my shoulder.
"Only so many places for you to go," I reply as I reach into my pocket. I pull out a small loaf of bread and hand it to her. "Here. It's not much. But I figure I should have handed it to you like this six years ago, instead of throwing it to you."
Silently, Katniss takes the bread, as she looks up at me, understanding lighting up her eyes. "Six years ago," she whispers. "You remembered the exact day?"
"Happy Bread Day, Katniss," I murmur, sliding my arm around her shoulders.
Katniss holds the bread to her nose, inhaling deeply. "And it looks like rain, just like that day. Thank you, Peeta." She tilts her head up to mine and kisses me gently. I taste the salt from her tears on her lips.
"I have something else," I murmur. I pull her pearl out of my pocket, now mounted in gold and hanging from a simple, yet sturdy, gold chain. "I think you need to hang onto this. I've kept it for you long enough. But, I know how you are...always misplacing shit. So..." I slip the chain over her head. Katniss picks up the pearl and examines it closely, before slipping it, and the chain, into her shirt.
Another salty, teary kiss. "How do you do it?"
"Do what?" I ask.
"Make me feel like everything will be all right," she replies softly. "Peeta, what am I gonna do?"
"Haymitch and I both agree with you," I tell her. "I guess it took both you and I to show Haymitch just how bad the plan is."
"I meant what I said," Katniss replies firmly. "I won't be the Mockingjay...not like this."
"We know that too," I say. "Katniss...I don't like Jackson."
"Neither do I," Katniss admits.
"But she is right," I continue. "This Rebellion...we're dancing around what it really is. It's war, Katniss. People die in war. Even Haymitch said that he didn't expect to survive."
Katniss snorts derisively. "Haymitch was just being dramatic. Typical."
I shake my head. "I don't think so. Well, maybe a little." Katniss chuckles at this and I allow myself a smile, happy for the moment to have at least coaxed a small laugh out of her.
I pull Katniss closer to me. "Haymitch does expect to die. I think he wants to die...or, at least, doesn't care if he lives or dies. As long as his death means something."
"And what about us?" Katniss asks.
"I want to live," I admit. "I have a lot to live for."
I see Katniss blush when she realizes that I'm talking about her. "So do I," she says softly, before adding, "and so does Prim."
"The Reaping is still over two months away," I point out. "We have plenty of time to figure things out between now and then." I stand up and extend my hand to Katniss. She takes my hand in hers and I easily pull her to her feet. "There's still a lot to do between now and then...like getting the Thirteens into Town so people will be used to seeing them by Reaping Day."
Katniss and I begin to walk back to the Village, even as the first drops of rain start to fall. "I meant what I said," Katniss says. "Prim has to be safe...and I don't want to see a bunch of innocent people hurt or killed."
"Same here." I slip my arm around her shoulders as we walk faster, trying to beat the rain.
"Thank you for my pearl," Katniss whispers a few moments later. "What you did...it's perfect."
"Madge helped me," I admit. "She knows someone in the Capitol Liaison Office...they have a jeweler there."
"Madge," Katniss breathes. "I never would have guessed her to be a Rebel. Do you know if she's aware of the Thirteens?"
I shake my head. "I don't know. But I think she should."
We walk in silence for a moment before Katniss speaks again. "Peeta...does me wearing the pearl mean that we're engaged?"
I feel my heart race at the words, but still, I know that I have to tread lightly. Katniss has had so much to deal with today. "I'd like it to be," I reply carefully.
Katniss stops walking, grabbing my arms and turning me to face her. Blinking against the rain hitting her face, she looks up at me and whispers, "Is this a proposal, then?"
I stare down into her silvery eyes as she stares solemnly back up at me. I take both her hands in mine as I say, "This isn't how I ever saw myself doing this. But yes. I am proposing."
I see tears forming in the corners of Katniss's eyes as her hands grip mine tightly. "Why now?" Her voice trembles slightly as she speaks.
"I...I...with everything that's been happening," I stammer, "especially today...I wanted you to know...shit, I wanted this to be perfect, and -"
Katniss presses her mouth firmly to mine in a long, deep, and damp kiss, as the rain begins to come down on us harder. Finally, she pulls her mouth from mine and looks up into my face, stray tendrils of her hair plastered to her cheeks and forehead, as tears roll down her face, joining the raindrops.
"Oh, Peeta," she breathes. "Sometimes you can be so...dense. This is perfect! In the rain, with my pearl and my bread, on the anniversary of the very day that you saved my life. And you are so worried about timing!" She reaches up to tenderly stroke my cheek. "It couldn't have been more perfect," she whispers.
"So that means that you accept?" I ask anxiously.
Katniss smiles up at me. "I accept."
She kisses me again, quickly, and adds, "But right now we're getting soaked. Come on!" We trot the rest of the way back to the Village at the best speed that my prosthetic leg would allow, and I walk her to her door, where we pause for another kiss.
Before Katniss disappears into her house, she whispers, "When I come over tonight...I'm staying. All night. Just so you know. I'll make Mom understand. Things are different between us now."
"I love you," I blurt, earning another smile from Katniss.
"You better," she replies, "and I love you too." She opens her front door and steps into her house, turning one last time for a final kiss. "See you later tonight," she whispers.
I don't think my feet touch the ground the whole way back to my house.
PART V
"Okay," Darius is hunched over a large sheet of butcher paper, sketching quickly with a pencil. "Justice Building, temporary stage, and the Square. Scaffolding on either side of the stage with lights and big-screen Holos. Directly opposite from the stage are the check-in tables. Boys assemble here," he points to an area on his sketch, "and girls here. Onlookers back here," he points again, "and over here. Once the Square is full additional onlookers are directed down these streets here, here, and here."
"And the Peacekeeper deployment?" Jackson asks.
"Eight at the check-in table," Darius replies, pointing at the sketch. "Another eight directly in front of the stage. Four deployed here," he traces a finger along the girls assembly area, "and four more here," he indicates the assembly area for the boys. "These are the Tribute Escort Teams. They have one job. Escort the Reaped Tributes from the assembly areas to the stage and prevent anyone from interfering."
"That's twenty-four," Katniss points out. "Where's the rest?"
"One team...a team is four Peacekeepers...on top of the Justice Building," Darius continues. "Another on this building back here." He points at the building directly opposite the Square from the Justice Building. Darius glances up. "There's a medium machine gun set up on each building, each with a crew of three. The other Peacekeeper is equipped with a sniper rifle."
"They can shoot down into the crowd," Katniss says quietly, her voice filled with horror.
Everyone looks grim as they study the sketch. "It'll be a slaughter if we can't neutralize those gun positions," Haymitch says, stating the obvious.
"I've got a plan," Darius replies. "It just so happens that I'm the best marksman in the District Twelve Peacekeeper Detachment. I can just about guarantee that my team will be assigned the position on the Justice Building."
"Just about?" I ask. "That's not good enough, Darius!"
Darius glances up at me. "Peeta, the best marksman is always assigned to the Justice Building gun position. I was number three at the last Reaping. I'm number one this year. There's no reason why Thread would do anything else."
"Unless he suspected you of something," Katniss says darkly.
"If that were the case," Darius replies sharply, "we wouldn't be having this conversation now. I'd be buried in an unmarked grave with Thread's bullet in the back of my head!"
Haymitch takes a quick pull from his flask before speaking. "Let's try to stay focused here. You two wanna argue, do it on your own fuckin' time." Haymitch arches one eyebrow as he speaks, fixing first Katniss, then Darius, with his gaze. "Darius? Katniss? We good?"
Darius says nothing. Katniss gives Haymitch a quick, sullen nod. "Okay then. Darius, please continue."
Darius takes a deep breath. "As I was saying...when the shit hits the fan, my job will be to take out the gun crew on the Justice Building first, and then neutralize the position on the back building."
"How will we know if you're successful?" Jackson asks.
"Easy," Darius replies with a small smile. "If no one's shooting at you from either building, you'll know then."
"There's too much at stake," Jackson continues. "Those positions must be neutralized. We have to have a back-up plan in case Potter fails."
"The Elevens," a new voice pipes up. All eyes turn towards the source of the voice...a slightly built boy, somewhat younger than myself, dressed in worn, gray clothing.
"The Elevens?" Jackson asks. "Explain, Barrow."
July Barrow sits up, examining the sketch more closely. Up until now, he's said nothing. "The Elevens. The kids in the Home who aren't quite old enough for Reaping. There's five or six like that. They could be backup to Darius."
"Children?" Jackson says incredulously. "You're proposing sending children to fight trained, heavily armed Peacekeepers?"
"No," July says calmly. "They can't fight them."
"What, then?" Jackson demands.
July grins. "They can start fires."
"The Justice Building is constructed from granite," another new voice chimes in. "And the back building is brick."
"Just the exteriors, Madge," July explains, addressing the new voice. "If I can get the Elevens into the buildings with flint, steel, and a little coal oil, they'll have a couple of nice fires going as soon as they hear the machine guns firing from the roof. As old as the wood is, that shit will flare up instantly. At least the smoke will interfere with their shooting."
"How are they supposed to get into the buildings in the first place?" Haymitch asks.
"I can help with that," Madge replies. "I know ways into the Justice Building...and my mothers' family has the sweet shop in the back building. Getting them in won't be a problem."
"And what if Darius is successful? How are you gonna let them know not to burn both buildings down?" Haymitch presses.
"The machine guns won't be firing," Darius replies. "It'll only take me a few seconds to secure my position. I'll take out the sniper and the machine gunner on the back building first, and then the rest of the crew. The kids can help with securing the weapons from both buildings."
"I can help the kids in the back building once the shit hits the fan," July says. "I don't see a problem. Community Home kids are pretty much invisible anyway," he adds bitterly.
"And I can help the ones in the Justice Building," Madge adds. "No one would think twice about the mayor's daughter going in the Justice Building."
I can tell that Jackson was far from convinced, but Haymitch speaks up before she can voice any more concerns. "Alright. Darius, you're go-to for the gun emplacements, with July and Madge backing you up. Let's talk about the other Peacekeepers. Where are they?"
Darius studies the sketch. "A squad...two teams of four each...on the far side of each assembly area. One squad down each of these three side streets to handle overflow. A squad here...and here," he points at the area where families typically gather to view the Reaping, "and that's it."
Haymitch leans back, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. "Lieutenant Jackson? Based on your training and experience, what problems do you see?"
Jackson glances sharply at Haymitch, looking for any hint of sarcasm in his voice, and finding none. Haymitch was truly asking for her advice.
Jackson clears her throat. "As I see it, there are a few problems that we still need to address. One. The security of the Victors while on the stage. All three will have huge targets on them as soon as it's apparent that an uprising is taking place at their urging. Potter, you indicated that there would be no less than eight Peacekeepers directly in front of the stage. Will any of them be part of your Rebel group?"
Darius shrugs. "I don't know. I suspect that Thread will assign Breccia's squad to this position...it's the most prestigious and visible, and Breccia is a notorious ass-kisser when it comes to Thread. If that's the case, then yes, there will be one." He turns to where Katniss, Haymitch, and I are seated. "You'll know who it is."
"Only one?" Jackson asks, frowning.
"That's all we'll need," Haymitch says. "They won't expect one of their own to turn on them. It'll give us time to hit cover if we need to, and -"
"No."
I glance up in surprise. "Katniss?"
Katniss shakes her head. "No. If I do this...and I still haven't decided for sure yet...I'm not gonna be diving behind chairs or under tables when the shooting starts." She looks around at Haymitch. "If you're right, literally everyone in Panem will be watching. If I'm supposed to be the symbol of the Rebellion, how's it gonna look if I'm hiding behind a chair? No...I...we," she adds emphatically, looking at Haymitch and I, "We will have to set the example. And that means all three of us standing firm, no matter what."
"Then we need to arm you and put you all in body armor," Jackson says firmly.
"Arm us?" I ask. "With guns? None of us knows how to shoot...and there's no way you can teach us without blowing this whole operation!"
"And no body armor," Katniss adds. "Have you seen the dress Cinna designed for me for the Reaping? There's no place to put body armor! Everyone within fifty meters of the stage would be able to tell right away that I'm wearing something under my dress. No. Body armor is out."
"For me as well," I say firmly, earning a smile and a squeeze of her hand from Katniss.
Haymitch hesitates for a moment before adding, "Fuck it. Make that all three of us." He sighs and grins at Katniss and I. "I never thought I was gonna live forever, anyway."
"That's unacceptable," Jackson sputters. "You need something!"
"They got somethin'", a gravelly voice says from the back of the room. "They got me."
"'Bout time you joined in, Silenus," Haymitch says, turning his grin towards Goat Man. "I was startin' t' think you up and died on us back there!"
"Didn't need to till now, Abernathy," Silenus Festuca replies dryly. "Figured I better say somethin', though."
Jackson is eying Festuca with distaste. "Would you mind explaining how you plan on helping?"
"Like this." Festuca sits up, his hand flicking out from his lap. A thunk next to Jackson's head reveals the quivering handle of a knife, buried a good three centimeters into the wall. "Any other questions?"
Jackson's eyes widen in surprise, but, to her credit, she maintains her professional demeanor. "Impressive," is all she says.
"I'll work with these three," Festuca continues, "although they're all already competent with blades. And no one will raise an eyebrow if they're packin' a sticker or two."
"It's settled, then," Katniss says firmly.
Jackson looks far from happy at this arrangement, but, like Katniss said, she still hasn't committed to being the Mockingjay. Instead, Jackson turns back to Darius.
"Potter, make sure you tell your Peacekeeper that Breccia is his number one target," she orders.
"If she's still alive," Darius replies grimly. "She'll be my number one target...after Thread, of course."
"No," Festuca says firmly. "Thread's mine." He glances around the room, defiance on his face. "I owe him. Besides, Thread will be moving around. He won't notice a broken down old goat herder shadowing him."
Jackson stares at Festuca for a long moment before nodding, once. "Very well. Thread's yours." She glances over at Haymitch, Katniss and myself. "Soldiers? Objections?"
There were none, of course.
"That leaves the dispositions of the other Peacekeepers," Jackson continues. "and the Peacekeepers on the Tribute Train. Potter?"
Darius takes a deep breath before he begins to speak. "I'm only sure about two items: one, that I'll be on the Justice Building Roof, and two, Breccia's squad will be stationed in the 'glamour' spot directly in front of the stage. Other than that...I have no idea about dispositions. I do know that you four -" he indicates Jackson and her team "- will be pretty conspicuous if you start following some of the Peacekeeper teams around. During Reapings, people find a place to watch and they stay there. Peacekeepers, on the other hand, will be roaming around, looking for potential trouble. After all, emotions can run pretty high at Reaping."
"What do you suggest?" Jackson asks tightly.
"Hang back near the check-in tables," Darius replies. "That's the only other place, other than the gun positions and the front of the stage, where Peacekeepers are more or less stationary...and you can't cover the stage or the guns."
"And if one of your Rebel Peacekeepers is assigned to check-in?" Jackson asks.
"I'll let you know," Darius assures her. "Final assignments for Reaping will be posted a few days prior. I'll know where all my people will be by then and I'll get word to you at that time."
Jackson is silent for a moment. Finally she says, "I don't like it. Too many variables. And we haven't even discussed the Tribute Train Peacekeepers."
"We've made a good start," Haymitch says quickly. "And we still have a few weeks before Reaping. We can't solve every problem now. We're still in phase two, after all."
"Which is going well, by the way," Madge adds. "Between July and myself, we've successfully taken Lieutenant Jackson, along with Soldiers Mitchell, Homes, and Leeg into Town several times. We're avoiding contact but not running from it. Our guests have even practiced their District Twelve accents on a few people."
"Successfully, I assume," Haymitch says dryly, "as they're still with us."
"Don't worry about phase two," July says. "We have decent cover stories for each of them that aren't complicated and are convincing. By Reaping no one in Town will give them a second glance."
"Okay, then," Haymitch says wearily. "Let's try talking again as a group in a couple of weeks. I, of course, will be your cordial host. That'll put us at just about a month before the Reapings. So, if there's nothing else -"
"There is." Katniss stands up. "Prim. What about her safety?"
Haymitch looks decidedly uncomfortable. "I actually wanted to talk to you in private about that, Sweetheart. I have an idea...but I don't think you're gonna like it."
"Really," Jackson chimes in, "I thought we had tabled that. This is not the time or the place -"
"Do you want my cooperation, or don't you?" Katniss asks coldly. "Think about your answer very carefully. Because if I don't like what I hear, you can find yourself another Mockingjay!"
Jackson doesn't say another word. Katniss turns back to Haymitch. "You were saying?"
"You ain't gonna like it, Sweetheart," Haymitch mutters.
"Try me."
Haymitch takes a deep breath. "We reap Primrose Everdeen."
Dead silence for almost a minute, finally broken by Katniss's barely controlled voice.
"What?"
"We deliberately Reap her," Haymitch says quickly. "That way, she's up on stage with you and out of the melee when the panic and rioting begin."
Katniss stares at Haymitch wide-eyed for several heartbeats before she replies. "You want to subject my sister to that? Hearing her name called at a Reaping? Making her think that she's gonna be sent away to die? Only this time, with her own sister responsible for Mentoring her? Are you fucking insane?"
"I told you that you wouldn't like it," Haymitch mutters defensively.
Katniss laughs bitterly. "That's an understatement. I absolutely hate it! Do you think for one minute that I'll put Prim through that hell again?" Katniss spins and stomps off toward the basement stairs. "Try again, Haymitch! Because right now I'm this close -" she holds up her right hand, thumb and forefinger a couple of centimeters apart "- this close to telling all of you to shove this whole plan up your ass!"
And with that, Katniss stomps up the stairs, slamming the door on her way out.
Haymitch sighs. "That's becoming a habit with this girl," he mutters.
"She's right, Haymitch," I say quietly. "You, of all people, should know what it's like to hear your name called."
"It wasn't his idea," Jackson says. "It was actually mine."
I stare at Haymitch incredulously. "And you went along with it?" I stand up and face Jackson. "You've got no idea what kind of stress a Reaping puts on a kid! None!"
Jackson looks defensive. "It's not real. It's not as if she'll actually board the train."
"Oh, fuck," I say disgustedly. "Why am I even arguing with you? You've been sitting back in Thirteen for all these years, watching every other District in Panem do your bleeding for you! You've got soldiers, guns, and hovercraft...and you did nothing to stop it! And if you don't think that Prim's safety is a game-changer for Katniss...guess again! Katniss volunteered for Prim! She's literally willing to die for her! And the last thing she wants is for Prim to be subjected to this kind of stress."
I turn to leave. "I'm going to talk to Katniss. Not to convince her of your idiotic plan, but to reassure her that Prim won't be Reaped. And, I suggest that you all do some serious fucking thinking on how we're gonna keep Primrose Everdeen safe, or, as Katniss said, you better start looking for another Mockingjay."
I have a nightmare that night for the first time in weeks.
I awaken in a cold sweat, struggling to breathe, my heart pounding. Katniss is lying by my side and I feel her stir as I come fully awake.
"Peeta?" I hear her fumbling for the light switch, and suddenly a soft glow emanates from above the bed.
I turn toward her. "Sorry," I whisper.
She reaches her hand out to my face, touching my cheek gently. "It's okay. You woke me before my dream got too bad."
Wordlessly I pull her closer to me and we both lay there silently, just holding each other. Katniss is the first to speak.
"I've been thinking. They're partly right, you know. About needing to get Prim on the stage."
"Not like that, though," I reply, gently stroking her hair.
"No," she agrees. "Not like that. Besides, there's too much to go wrong. Somehow we would have to make sure Effie pulled the right slip, or someone would say something. She can't be deliberately Reaped."
"We need to get her on stage somehow." I frown. But how?
"Prim needs to know what's going on," Katniss says shakily. "And there's only one way to get her up with us where she'll be away from the crowd."
"How?" I ask.
Katniss lets out a half sigh, half sob. "I bring her in on the plan...and tell her to Volunteer."