They slept in the tree last night, in case Dixon came back, so they'd be hidden. It was the wisest thing they did all day. I can't get over how panicked I got when Annie leapt down from that tree and started chasing after Dixon. It was the stupidest thing she could possibly have done. It made it all the worse that it was completely calculated. Gloss was elated, and he was talking much too loudly about it. He told Dixon to lead her to the edge of the land in his letter, because they knew that the Gamemakers would cause some kind of danger to push them back into the action. I got up the second I heard him start it, grabbed his shirt collar and spat in his face. It was a really low thing to do, but I had to do it. I play fair with my tributes, we might have tactics, but we don't cheat. We don't use the arena for our advantage. It gets you into trouble when you do that – just ask Haymitch. He'd know all about that.

'Odair!' A cold voice calls from the doorway. I spin around on my chair to see one of the Gamemakers' minions peering around the door.

'What?' I answer similarly. She scowls at me, and adjusts her dark hair, tied in a loose bun on the top of her head.

'You're wanted. Follow me.' She says icily, then turns her back and starts pacing off the down the corridor, not even waiting for me to get up. I growl at her under my breath, before I do as she says. I know I must be in trouble if I'm being summoned by the Gamemakers. I can't think that I've done anything terribly wrong. I mean, sure, I've got in a few heated discussions with the District 1s, but I don't think that's cause for concern from the Gamemakers – it's not the first time mentors have got in each other's way. It happens all the time.

I'm led into up some stairs and to the Gamemakers quarters. The girl who I've been following stops in front of two steel doors. She swipes her ID card through the slot, and the doors part silently, revealing the Control Room. I've never been here. I didn't even think mentors were allowed!

'Go on, then. I don't have clearance in there.'

I don't give her another look, I just do as she says, and take on small step inside the doorway. They have that huge virtual map of the arena in the centre of the room – it shows where all the tributes are! I just want one look at it. It's the closest I've been to Annie in ages. Seeing her on a screen isn't the same thing. What they do here affects her in there. I feel closer to her because of other people's actions. But I don't care, as long as I feel closer to her.

'Ah, Finnick.' I hear that voice. Alec Hardwick, the Head Gamemaker. His cold, grey eyes meet mine as he gets up from a chair across the balcony from me. He steps in line next to me, and surveys his room. 'I wanted to talk to you.'

'Not invited me for tea, then.' I say with a sigh, knowing I shouldn't get sarcastic with someone who has Annie's life in his hands, but I just couldn't stop myself.

'As lovely as that would be, alas, no.' He says, with a surprising lack of anger. I know I don't myself any favours with them when I'm sarcastic, but I only do it because I want a response. Not getting one confuses me a little.

'So… what's this about then?' I ask him absentmindedly, as my eyes drift down to the Control Table below us. All those holographic trees and lakes, and the little dots with names above them. I'm scanning for Annie's, but she must be at the other side.

'Maybe we should adjourn to another room,' Hardwick says, as I turn around I notice he's smirking.

'It's fine.' I tell him, maybe with a little more bite than I intended. He doesn't react to that either, simply nods and leads me down the stairs, and closer to that Control Table. For some reason, I can sense he wants me near it. He wants me to lose it because I'm closer to Annie. Whatever his motives are, I need to tear myself away from that table.

He gestures to me to take a seat at a white table. I do as he asks and sit down, as Hardwick does the same. He leans forward across the table, folding his arms and looking me in the eye. His cold eyes have nothing but steel in them.

'We need a chat, Finnick.' He says quietly, almost sinisterly. I feel a chill down my spine and I have a very bad feeling about this.

I clear my throat and try not to look worried. 'Look, if this is about me picking a fight with Gloss, then I've got to tell you that it wasn't entirely one sided-'

'It's not about that. If anything, I found it all rather amusing.' He interrupts coldly. I bite my tongue and don't say anything else, I know this is going to be serious.

'It concerns your tribute.' Hardwick informs me, not trace of sympathy or emotion in his voice. It's clinical. Your tribute. Not Annie, just your tribute. She's like an object to him, not even human! I can feel my fist clench at my side, but I'm trying desperately not to let my obvious anger show in my face.

'She's been near the boundary.' He continues in monotone, as he leans forward even more, like it's some kind of secret. The lines around his eyes and on his forehead denote the stress of the job he's doing, but I don't feel the slightest bit sorry for him. The scar in his right eyebrow shows the trauma of the job he's doing, and yet, I'd give him more scars. This is his last year and he knows it. 'She's also gone a little… off the rails, shall we say?' He continues finally, the slightest bit of amusement creeping onto his sallow face.

I lean forward now, I'm not going to let him hold all the cards. 'And that's a problem because…?'

Hardwick smiles at me; a horrible, twisted grin. He sits back in his chair and surveys the room, the Control Table, before turning back to me. 'She cannot win.'

I slam my hand down on the table before I've even thought about it, but Hardwick doesn't react.

'What the hell do you mean? She cannot win?' I spit out at him, anger flooding into me faster than I've ever known.

'She cannot win,' he repeats calmly. 'because her ever deteriorating mental health is due to the Games. We didn't expect her to last this long, and it's taking its toll on her that she has.' He sighs like it's nothing and crosses his legs, as he takes another glance at the Control Table. 'If she wins, it will reflect terribly on the Games. On the Capitol. Therefore, she cannot win.'

'So you won't let her win?' I shout, my voice louder than I realise. 'If it looks like she's going to win you'll kill her?' And as fast as my voice rose, it's shrunk, and shaking all over the place. I've trained her well, and she's worked hard throughout these Games, and now they're just going to kill her? Just take her out?

'Yes.' He says with a shrug. 'I'm sorry, Finnick. A lot of people really thought this year would have a District Four winner,' his eyes flit up to the grey pictures of the dead tributes. 'but I don't think anyone presumed it would be Annie.'

I lean forward even more on the table, and grab his attention. 'You listen to me, Hardwick, and you listen good.' And I don't even know what I'm doing, I sure as hell should not be doing this. 'You dare to have her killed off in there, and I am not afraid of giving you the same treatment. You don't think Snow's going to have you killed after this Games, anyway? And you know I hold some standing with him, don't you? I can have him change his methods, I can have him leave you in a room all alone to starve to death.' I glance around to make sure no one's listening – they're not. 'He can kill your family, instead, Hardwick, I hope you know that.'

He doesn't reply, just continues motionlessly staring at me. I give him one last look before I stand up to leave.

'Finnick,' he says in a small voice. I hesitate before I turn around, do I really want to hear what he has to say? Does he really deserve my attention? 'there's nothing I can do about it now.'

I whip around and throw myself in front of him, slamming my hands against the back of his chair so he can't get away.

'What did you just say?' I growl at him. He swallows hard, evidently still mulling over what I told him.

He shakes his head meekly. 'It's already in place. I can't change it now.'

Before I manage to think it through, my fingers close around his neck and push him back against the wall.

'So tell me, then,' I spit at him. 'who exactly is supposed to win?'

His eyes start to water as he tries desperately to avoid my gaze. He wants someone to come to his aid, but no one is. Finally, his beady, little eyes find mine once more.

'Dixon.' He gasps, and I let him go in an instant. Of all the people they could plan to win.

'Despicable.' I mutter, as Hardwick tries his best to scramble up off the floor. I'm going to leave, I'm not sure what I'd do, but I want to leave. However, before I can, I hear another Gamemaker from around the table start a countdown. I stare down at Hardwick, but his eyes are transfixed on the Control Table, fear dancing in his eyes. This is it, this must be the wipe-out.

'What is it?' I ask him urgently. He doesn't even respond. 'What is it?' I try again, only harsher. Hardwick jumps and stares at me, his hands grabbing the side of the chair.

'A flood.' He whispers.

'A flood?'

'Well… a whirlpool.'

A fucking whirlpool? That's not even fair. She won't survive that. No one will! Hell, their precious Dixon won't survive that! I involuntarily walk towards the Control Table, gravitating towards it because I know what kind of power it has.

'Ten seconds until launch.' One Gamemaker says from the other side of the circular table. And there's nothing I can do. She won't survive a whirlpool. None of them will. Unless they've decided to spread them out. My eyes hurriedly scan the map; Annie and Anika are still together in their tree; Dixon's way out in the caves on his own. It's Celeste who shocks me the most. She's not too far away from Annie and Anika, in a tree of her own. I think she's been watching them. She's much too close for it to be a coincidence. There are no coincidences with Celeste. She's too precise for that.

'And in five, four…'

Dixon's still not safe, though. His caves are still on their side of the map, everyone's over on the bottom left of the map, just to varying degrees. I don't understand how this could possibly work? Unless they're just going to stop it once there's only Dixon left? I need to get out of here, I can't see the screens in here. I need to know how she's doing. If she's going to die know, I need to see it. I owe her that much.

I sprint out of the Control Room and throw myself down the corridors towards the Watch Room. I don't care about the amount of strange looks I'm getting, I barely even notice. I skid through the automatic doors, as they've hardly opened enough, but I don't care. I arrive in the Watch Room just in time, breathless but staring at the screen intently.

'Finnick-' Johanna starts, wheeling around in her chair. I shake my head at her, she obviously doesn't know. But she'll find out. Right now, in fact.