CHAPTER 5

PART I

I dozed fitfully, twisting around in the straight-backed chair next to the hospital bed. The room was quiet except for the soft hum coming from the various monitors hanging above the bed. The bed's occupant was silent, with only the readouts from the monitors and the sight of his chest rising and falling slowly the only indications that he was still alive.

The last time that I had seen Beetee Latier had been while I was a patient at Victor's Mercy Hospital in the Capitol, following my own Hunger Games Victory. Not only had he sat with me...part of a ritual called the "Vigil" that past Victors had observed when a badly injured new Victor was plucked from the arena...but he had designed the electronics that made my prosthetic leg function.

He had sat Vigil for me when I needed it. I owe him this much.

Of course, Katniss and I had not been allowed to immediately see either Beetee or Finnick Odair, both Victors arriving just minutes apart from their respective extractions. Both men had been rushed straight to the hospital. Haymitch had been correct. Both men were in bad shape.

Beetee had a single bullet wound in his abdomen that had caused internal damage and, from what I had been told by one of the staff here (not the Everdeens or Dr. Picardo, who were not on duty at the time), the bullet had damaged his spine as well. Finnick Odair was in better shape physically, but Dr. Aurelius had been spending a lot of time with him today. It wasn't Finnick's body that was damaged, but his mind.

Mags, his old Mentor and the oldest living Victor, had been killed during Finnick's escape. This was bad enough...Mags and Finnick were extremely close...but what was worse for Finnick was what had happened to Annie Cresta. They had become separated in the confusion during the escape and Annie was now officially listed as missing in action.

Katniss was keeping Vigil with Finnick. She knew him much better than I did...in fact, I don't clearly recall ever meeting him at all, although he may have sat Vigil for me after my Games. No matter. It was more fitting that Katniss keep Finnick company. After all, they shared more than the experience of being a Victor, and they understood each other in a way that I never possibly could.

Haymitch had sat with both Katniss and I at different times, once Finnick had been assigned to a room and after Beetee had left surgery, but he had been called away by Plutarch before dinner, and I haven't seen him since. Truthfully, I think he was relieved to have been called away. This sort of thing wasn't his strong suit, and it had been pretty apparent that he was uncomfortable when he sat with me.

So now, I'm sitting here, dozing off and on, and wondering exactly what I will say to Beetee Latier when...and if...he wakes up. And, as it turned out, I didn't have long to wait.

I awoke with a jerk, unsure why I suddenly snapped awake. I straightened up in my uncomfortable chair, glanced up at the readouts on the monitors above Beetee's bed, and listened for any alarms that would sound should his condition take a turn for the worst. The monitors were unchanged and there were no alarms, and it was only then that I noticed that Beetee's head was turned toward me, and his eyes were open.

Beetee peered at me, his forehead creased in concentration, and then he whispered a single word: "Glasses."

Of course! I had known that he wore glasses. He probably couldn't see me very well at all without them. Muttering an apology, I leaned forward, retrieving his glasses from the stand next to his bed, and slipped them on his face. Beetee reached up, adjusted the frames, and looked back toward me, his eyes focusing on my face.

"Ahh," he murmured, his voice rusty. "Peeta Mellark. It's nice to finally get confirmation that you are, in fact, still alive and that you made it to Thirteen...we are in Thirteen, correct?"

I nodded. "Yes," I replied. "With Katniss and Haymitch as well."

Beetee's lips curled up in a small smile. "Good," he croaked.

"I'm sorry," I said. "You must be thirsty." I glanced around for a water pitcher, but there was none to be seen. I reached out and pushed the call button on Beetee's bed. "I'll get you some water."

Beetee shook his head. "Peeta, it's not necessary -"

"You can barely talk," I replied, cutting him off. At that moment a nurse entered the room.

"Oh, good," she said with a smile. "You're awake. I'll let the doctor know." She stepped next to the bed and checked the various IV drips, and then the vital signs readouts, nodding in satisfaction.

"He's thirsty," I said firmly. "Can we get some water in here?"

The nurse turned to me. "Sorry, no. He's had an abdominal wound. No liquids by mouth just yet." She produced something that, at first glance, looked like a fat-handled toothbrush, but with a soft, foam head. She squeezed the handle gently until the foam head darkened with moisture. "I can give you this, Mr. Latier, if you like."

Beetee nodded gratefully. "Please." The nurse quickly ran the foam head over Beetee's lips before sliding it into his mouth, repeating the action. It looked like she was brushing his teeth. When she was finished she carefully laid the foam brush on a tray next to his bed.

"I'll leave this here for you," she said. "Are you in any pain?"

"A little," Beetee admitted.

The nurse examined Beetee's chart, and then reached over to one of the hanging IV drips. A small control box was attached to the drip. She placed the box in Beetee's right hand.

"There's a button on the box," she explained. "Press it."

Beetee did so, and I could hear a soft beeping sound. "That's morphling," she explained. "You can self-medicate every few minutes. Make sure you keep up on the medication. You don't want your pain to get out of control."

"I will," Beetee promised. "And thank you."

After the nurse left, Beetee turned to me. "As I was saying, water isn't necessary at this time. I know where I was shot. No oral liquids with a wound like mine."

"I didn't know," I murmured, embarrassed.

Beetee's mouth twitched up in a small smile again. "No worries. How's Katniss? I saw her get shot...her and Cressida. I assume she was wearing body armor?"

I nodded. "Yes. She's fine. Just a little tender still." I paused for a moment. "Cressida is...she didn't make it. She's dead."

Beetee nodded, sighing heavily. "I assumed as much. She was a good person." Beetee shifted slightly, a small frown creasing his forehead. "Peeta, I can't feel my legs."

I gazed at Beetee, unsure of what to say, if anything. The bullet had damaged his spine. I knew that much. But I'm no doctor.

A doctor, along with a nurse and a technician, entered the room, saving me from having to say anything. "Mr. Latier," the doctor said. "I was told that you're awake." He turned toward me. "Can you excuse us? I need to speak with Mr. Latier."

I stood up, grateful to this doctor for giving me an out, and, at the same time, ashamed that I didn't have the courage to insist on sticking around for what was sure to be bad news for Beetee. "I'll come back later, Beetee," I said, patting him on one shoulder.

Beetee reached up, clasping my hand in his. "Thank you for being here, Peeta." He squeezed my hand gently. "And don't feel bad. I know what the doctor wishes to speak to me about."

"I'll see you later," I replied lamely, letting go of his hand and quickly leaving the room.

As I made my way back to my quarters, I remembered my own reaction when I awoke in Victor's Mercy to discover that I had lost a leg. But, with time and help from a lot of people, Beetee included, I re-learned how to walk. I could even run, after a fashion.

I couldn't imagine someone telling me that I would not be able to ever walk again.

PART II

I didn't have much in the way of leisure time today. Finnick and Beetee's successful extractions managed to spur Coin and the rest into taking some positive action. As soon as I returned to my quarters I saw a flashing light on my comm unit. There was a single message: "Meeting in Command at twenty-one hundred hours."

I glanced at the digital clock. I had eight minutes. I sighed, turned, and walked out the door, heading for the nearest elevator. So much for a shower, I thought as I waited for the elevator.

I had a pleasant surprise when the cage slid open. Katniss was heading down to Command as well. We had hardly seen each other all day. She hugged me tightly, gripping my shoulders firmly for a few seconds before pulling away.

"How's Finnick?" I asked, after a quick kiss.

Katniss pulled away from me to close the cage and punch the "DOWN" button before replying. "A mess," she said quietly. "Mags is dead, Annie's missing, and of course he blames himself." She sighed heavily. "Peeta, I've never seen him like this. He's not in bad shape physically. But all he's been doing is tying and untying knots in a piece of rope." She shook her head. "That head doctor, Aurelius, is with him. He said that he could help him. I hope he's right. How's Beetee?"

"Awake," I replied. "A doctor was with him when I left. He's probably been told by now that he probably won't ever walk again."

"I feel so bad for them both," Katniss said. She paused for a moment, looking down at the floor of the elevator. "Aurelius asked me if I would be willing to talk to him."

"What did you tell him?" I asked.

Katniss surprised me. "I said that I would." She must have seen my expression, for she continued with, "No one else has ever come to either of us and said they could help. Maybe he can." Another pause, and then, "Not for a while, though. I think he's gonna be busy with Finnick for a while."

At that moment, the elevator sighed to a stop and the cage slid open. I gave Katniss a small smile. "After you," I said with a flourish. "I believe we're expected."

"Yeah," Katniss grumbled as she stepped from the elevator. "At another stupid meeting that accomplishes nothing."

Katniss was wrong. The arrival of Finnick and Beetee seemed to galvanize Coin, Boggs, Plutarch, and the rest. This meeting was full of surprises...including one of my own.

The usual attendees were in place: President Coin with her assistant, Henry Elliott; Colonel Boggs and Lieutenant Jackson; Plutarch Heavensbee and Fulvia Cardew; and Haymitch Abernathy. But this time we were joined by others: Cinna, Effie Trinket, Darius Potter, and the Goat Man himself, Silenus Festuca.

"Please be seated," Coin said as soon as we entered the room. Without preamble, she continued, "The successful extractions of Finnick Odair and Beetee Latier means that we can now move forward with the next phase of the Rebellion. Mr. Heavensbee?"

Plutarch nodded slightly and turned towards Katniss and I. "We've decided that you are most convincing when your reactions are genuine, Katniss. So we aren't going to feed scripted lines anymore. We've come up with another idea."

"No more propos?" Katniss asked, glancing uncertainly at Coin.

"We'll still record propos," Plutarch explained. "But not on a sound stage." He turned and gestured across the table, towards where Effie and Haymitch were sitting. "Haymitch pointed out, and rightly so, that you are your best when you are yourself...and Miss Trinket gave us several excellent examples."

"I don't understand," Katniss muttered.

"Katniss, what moves people is when they see the real you," Effie chimed in. "When you volunteered for Primrose, or when you sang to Rue, or when you were with Gale when he...anyway, that's what moves people. Your real emotions and reactions."

"Whatever happened to wanting the 'Girl on Fire?'" Katniss asked.

"Embellishments," Cinna said. "Amplifications of your personality. Larger than life projections of the real you. But the real you is what touches people. And that's what's needed here."

"Katniss, we're going to put you and Peeta in the field," Plutarch said. "You'll be perfectly safe, but the districts...and the Capitol...need to see why we are fighting."

"What's that mean exactly?" I ask. "'The field?'"

"We're going to take you two back to District Twelve," Plutarch explained. "With Messalla and his crew. There's been a complete information blackout throughout all of Panem regarding what happened there. We need to show all of the other districts what the Capitol is capable of...and what they will do, without hesitation."

I glance at Katniss, whose only reaction is an almost imperceptible tightening of her jaw. "Who will see it?" I ask.

"The entire nation," Plutarch replies with a smile. "Including the Capitol. Believe it or not, but Capitol citizens are as much in the dark about what happens in Panem as everyone else. It's important that they see what Snow did to District Twelve."

"How?" Katniss asked. "The Capitol controls all communication, especially Holo-TV broadcasts."

"Beetee Latier," Plutarch replied, somewhat smugly. "He designed the programming for the computer network that the Capitol uses...including backdoors that he installed. Hacking into their network won't be a problem now that he's here."

"You do know," I said slowly, feeling my anger rising, "that he took a bullet and most likely will never walk again?"

"I'll be blunt, Mr. Mellark," Coin said. "We want Mr. Latier for his brilliant mind, his genius...not for his legs. His mind is intact. Whether or not he can walk isn't relevant."

"And," Haymitch said hastily, speaking for the first time, "Beetee knew the risks when he got involved with the Rebellion. So don't get yourselves all in a twist. Got it?"

I glanced quickly from Haymitch, to Katniss, and then to Coin. I knew instantly what Haymitch was trying to do...prevent either Katniss or I from replying to Coin's callous, almost cruel, remark about Beetee's legs. Which one of us most certainly would have done if he hadn't said something first.

Katniss picked up on Haymitch's signal as well, saying nothing. But there was no mistaking the blaze in her eyes. Let it go, I said to myself. This is not the time or the place.

"Let's continue," Coin said brusquely. "Colonel Boggs?"

"Security on the ground will be handled by Jackson's squad," Boggs said. "We'll do an aerial recon of Twelve before we go in, although there's been no indications that any attempts have been made to occupy the district since the bombing. That being said, Jackson will secure the area before you so much as set foot in Twelve, and she will have the final say on all security related matters. Clear?"

"Clear," Katniss and I answered together.

"Good." Boggs said. "In addition to Messalla and his crew, you will both be fitted with body cams that will record everything that you see and hear from your point of view. Messalla will activate them by remote when you land and will deactivate them once you return to the hovercraft."

"When do we go?" Katniss asked.

"The day after tomorrow," Boggs replied. "Tomorrow you'll spend with Plutarch and Fulvia on content, Cinna and his team on appearance, and Haymitch, along with Effie, will keep you focused and on schedule. This is important, you two. What we record in Twelve will go out to all of Panem. And this will prove to the entire country that you two are alive and well."

Katniss said nothing. I just nodded. I couldn't help but think how much our schedule for tomorrow sounded like Interview Prep before the Hunger Games. There's one important difference, however...it won't be us with twenty-two other Tributes. It's just Katniss and I, on display in front of the entire country.

"Alright," Coin said, sitting back in her chair. "One final item to discuss before we break. Where to commit troops for the first major offensive against the Capitol." She glanced down at the PADD on the table in front of her. "I understand that there's been some...conflict?"

"A difference of opinion, President Coin," Boggs said tightly. "I'm in favor of striking the Peacekeeper units in either District Four or District Eight. The Rebels in both of those districts have had the greatest measure of success against Capitol forces. We feel that, with our assistance, that the Rebels will be able to quickly secure either district."

"So, what's the problem?" Coin asked impatiently.

"The problem," Silenus Festuca said, speaking for the first time, "is that you'll end up fighting a war for ten years with a strategy like that."

Coin arched her eyebrows and turned an icy glare in Festuca's direction. "Mr. Festuca," she said slowly, measuring each word carefully, "I allowed you and Mr. Potter to sit in here tonight under the condition that you would not disrupt this meeting." She then turned towards Plutarch. "Mr. Heavensbee, I thought I was quite clear on this matter. These two...gentlemen...are effectively on parole."

"And they have first-hand experience in tactics," Haymitch pointed out. "And Goaty has -"

"I beg your pardon," Coin said, cutting Haymitch off. "'Goaty?'"

"Back in Twelve he was known as Goat Man," Haymitch explained impatiently. "He's a retired Peacekeeper Sergeant who served for twenty years. He knows Peacekeeper tactics, as does Darius."

"And I agreed to listen to them both," Boggs interjected. "And, for the record, I strongly disagree with their recommendations."

Coin sighed heavily, tossing her pencil onto the table, and pinches the bridge of her nose before wiping her hands across her eyes. "This is the conflict, then. All right, let's hear it."

"You ain't gonna hurt the Capitol by taking either Four or Eight," Festuca explains. "What's that gonna accomplish? Cut off their supply of jumbo shrimp and lobster tail? Capitol socialites forced to wear last year's fashions? Oh, the humanity!"

"Spare me your sarcasm, Mr. Festuca," Coin snapped. "I'm not in the mood."

"My apologies, Madam President," Festuca said contritely. I glanced at him sharply, and he even looked contrite. Well, Coin can have that effect on people, and I know from experience that she's not to be taken lightly. "But such a move will prolong this war, and the Capitol has both the numbers and the resources to fight a lengthy conflict. We don't."

Coin nodded thoughtfully. "I agree with you on that point." She turned to Boggs. "Colonel, what is the advantage in taking the fight to either Four or Eight at this time?"

"Both districts are active in the fight against the Capitol," Boggs explained. "They're both close enough to not pose an insurmountable logistics problem. Their Rebel cells have already indicated that they are willing to accept help and guidance in fighting the Peacekeeper units there. And once we pacify one district, we can use the seasoned fighters there as cadre in other districts to train their Rebels."

"And all that takes time that we don't have," Festuca said. "We have to move quickly, and we have to hurt the Capitol right now."

"All right," Coin said, turning towards Festuca. "What's your plan?"

"Simple," Festuca replied. "We need to concentrate on three districts: Nine, Ten, and Eleven. Start with Eleven first. They're the closest and we can work from there. But these three districts are the key."

"They're also quite large, Mr. Festuca," Coin pointed out, "with populations scattered all over each district. Exactly what are they 'key' to?"

Festuca smiled grimly. "Food. The Capitol can get along without new clothes, or caviar, or the latest, greatest high-speed train out of District Six. But they all gotta eat."

Coin arched one eyebrow. "Are you suggesting that we starve them out?"

Festuca nodded. "That's exactly what I'm suggesting."

Coin absently tapped her lip with her forefinger as she stared off at the far wall of the conference room. Finally she sat up. "Both proposals have their own merits," she declared. "But we'll shelve any strategic decisions until after the propos are recorded." She looked around the room. "Does anyone have anything else for now?"

"What about Finnick?" Katniss asked quietly.

Coin turned to face Katniss. "What about him?"

"Where does he fit into all of this?" Katniss asked. "I mean, you've made it clear what Beetee was rescued -"

"Extracted," Coin corrected automatically.

"- rescued for," Katniss continued, ignoring Coin's correction. "You need to pick his brain on how to break into the Capitol computers. But what's Finnick here for?"

"He has some information that may prove useful to us at a later date, Katniss," Plutarch explained. "And, until then, he can work with you and Peeta on making propos."

"Not in his present condition," Katniss muttered.

"No," Coin admitted impatiently. "Not in his present condition. At a later date, perhaps. Now, is there anything else?"

I took a deep breath. "Yes," I replied. "One more thing."

Coin turned to me with a sigh. "Mr. Mellark?"

"I would like to begin training," I said carefully. "As a soldier."

PART III

I never said I had good timing.

The hovercraft was flying low, just above treetop level (what the pilot described to me as "nap of the earth" flying), so we were alternately experiencing feeling ourselves being pressed down in our seats and then suddenly having our stomachs drop out from under us.

I glanced over at Katniss, who was sitting across from me, between Pollux and Jackson. She must have felt my eyes on her, because her head swiveled towards me and I was treated to yet another glare.

I sighed and looked away. Haymitch, who was sitting across from me, grinned crookedly and leaned forward, tapping my knee. "What did you expect, kid?" He asked. "Your little bombshell took everyone by surprise. Did you really think that Katniss was gonna turn cartwheels when you announced that you were joining the Army?"

"Dammit, Haymitch," I muttered angrily, "I'm not joining the Army! All I want is some training in weapons and tactics. I can't throw knives at every Peacekeeper I run into! I just want to be able to handle whatever gun I'm issued, that's all."

"Kid, it don't stop with just weapons training," Haymitch pointed out. "There's all kinds of other shit that they're gonna make you learn. And don't think that you ain't joinin' the Army, 'cause you are."

"Coin even said that my military training was not to interfere with the propos," I replied lamely, but deep down, I was already having concerns. What if Haymitch was right? If I complete their basic training program there's nothing to prevent Coin from having me assigned to a combat squad, which I'm sure she would if I somehow "displeased" her.

Haymitch leaned back in his jump seat and sighed. "Kid, if you wanted to have someone teach you how to shoot, you shoulda asked Festuca or Darius. You already know how to fight...and kill...if you have to. You don't need the rest of the bullshit that goes along with military training."

I didn't reply. Maybe he was right. Yet, we're in the middle of a war. And I need to be able to fight if I have to. And that means I have to know how to shoot.

Most importantly, I need to be able to protect Katniss.

I know that we'll have a security squad with us wherever we go. But they can't be everywhere. I'll be expected to be by Katniss's side, no matter where we are. She's the face of the Rebellion. And I need to protect that face...along with the rest of her.

Boggs looked up from his PADD, pressing the headset closer to his ear. "Listen up!" He barked. "We're coming up on District Twelve. We'll do one orbit of the Square and then land. Katniss - Peeta. Put your headsets on and do a comm check with Haymitch. Security squad, you're out first. Messalla, activate body cams. Thirty seconds, people!"

Katniss and I fumbled with our headsets...a small, wireless communications device with a small button that I inserted into my ear, and a compact receiver/transmitter that wrapped around the ear, ending in a slender microphone extending down my jaw.

"Comm check," Haymitch's voice crackled in my ear.

"I hear you," I replied. Katniss muttered something a single word that may have been "yeah," or "okay." Or maybe she just grunted.

I could feel myself tensing up as the hovercraft lurched into a steep bank. I only caught quick glimpses of Twelve as we came in, and what I saw I didn't like. Finally, the hovercraft straightened, flared, and settled to the earth with a thump.

"We'll be orbiting above the district the whole time," Haymitch's voice crackled in my earpiece. "Say the word and you'll be off the ground in thirty seconds. Stay in constant contact, and don't argue with Jackson. On security, her word is final."

The rear ramp dropped with a thump and Jackson, along with her security squad, charged out, closely followed by Messalla, Castor, and Pollux. Haymitch's voice once again crackled in my earpiece.

"All right, you two," he said dryly. "It's showtime."

It's gray everywhere.

Every step we took raised a puff of gray ash. The hovercraft rose almost noiselessly into the still air, pausing for a moment before it slowly moved away, settling into a slow orbit around Twelve. The security squad had formed a rough circle, with Katniss and I in the center, while Messalla, along with Castor and Pollux, are recording everything.

Castor was panning his helmet cam from left to right, slowly describing a complete circle, while Pollux had his camera focused solely on Katniss and I. We're standing in what used to be the Square. The granite Justice Building, its imposing gray walls now blackened by the fire, was the only structure that is still standing. Everything else...every building constructed of wood...is nothing more than mounds of charred wood and ash.

It's quiet...almost unearthly. There's no sound, aside from a few muted commands from Jackson to her soldiers. I glanced over at Katniss. Her face was ashen, her eyes wide as she took in the devastation around us. Katniss looked at me, no longer angry...at least for now.

I gave her what I hoped is a reassuring smile as I stepped toward her, only to hear something crunch under my boot. I moved my foot and, underneath the ash, I can see what I stepped on. It's the skeletal remains of a human hand.

I've survived the Third Quarter Quell. I've killed people, both in and out of the arena. I've seen death up close. But this...suddenly I find myself wishing that I hadn't eaten breakfast that morning, as I suddenly collapsed to my knees, bend at the waist, and vomit violently.

I'm dimly aware of a hand on my shoulder as I throw up. Haymitch's voice crackled in my ear. "You okay, kid?"

"Yeah," I managed to reply. I looked up at Katniss. Wordlessly, she held out a water bottle. I took it gratefully, swishing a mouthful of water around in my mouth before spitting it into the ash. "Thanks," I muttered as I looked up at her.

Katniss's mouth twitched up in the ghost of a smile as she held out her hand and helped me back onto my feet. "Katniss...Peeta," Messalla said firmly. "What are you seeing right now?"

Messalla's voice snapped me back to the reason why we are here, and it must have had the same effect on Katniss. "We...it's all gone," Katniss said haltingly. "It's burned to the ground."

"What is, Katniss?" Messalla asked.

"District Twelve," she all but whispered. "It's gone."

"Peeta?" I swivel my head toward Messalla. "Describe for us where we are right now."

I quickly glance around, orienting myself on the Justice Building. "Uhh...we're in what used to be the Square, in the middle of town." I begin pointing out places where different businesses used to be. "That was Cartwright's Shoe Shop. Over there was Rooba's Butcher Shop. The Donner's Sweet Shop was right over there." I pause for a moment. "That...that, over there, is...was Mellark's Bakery."

"All destroyed in the firebombing ordered by the Capitol. Ordered by President Snow." Messalla said, adding his own narrative.

"Look over there," Katniss said. She's pointing toward where the Seam used to be. There's smoke rising into the nearly cloudless sky.

"That's smoke," I said needlessly. "But...but...there's nothing left to burn."

"We're over it right now," Haymitch's voice crackles in my earpiece. "It's a jagged line about a hundred meters long. Boggs and I think that it may be a coal seam fire. Firebombs probably detonated close to one of the mine entrances and the firebombs ignited a coal seam."

"Haymitch said that it's probably a coal seam fire," I said, for the benefit of the cameras.

"A coal seam fire," Katniss whispered, "in the Seam." Something in the tone of her voice makes me glance sharply at her. One look at her face tells me that she's having trouble handling being here.

I look back at Messalla. "Give us a minute," I said, taking Katniss by the arm and leading her a few steps away. Katniss's body stiffened when I first touched her but she relaxed almost instantly and allowed me to guide her.

"Are you okay?" I asked. "Because if you're not I'll call Haymitch and -"

"I'm fine," Katniss practically snapped. "And no calls to Haymitch. I have to do this. We have to do this."

"Everything okay down there?" Haymitch's voice crackles once again in my earpiece. Judging from her reaction, Katniss heard the same thing.

"We're fine, Haymitch," Katniss replied. She turned towards Messalla and his crew. "Let's continue."

"Wait," Haymitch ordered. "We want you to head toward the train station. It's intact, believe it or not. I gotta warn you, though...we can see quite a few bodies littered about."

Katniss nods tersely. "Okay. Heading that way now." She turns to Messalla. "Did you get all that?"

Messalla nodded. "We copied. We'll be right behind you."

"On your feet," Jackson called out softly. The security squad rose to their feet, weapons ready, although we haven't seen anything move since our arrival here. Jackson turned back to Katniss and I. "Which way?"

I pointed to my left. "It's over there."

We slowly moved through the remains of the Square with the soldiers forming a protective bubble around us. Every so often I heard something crunch under my boots. I swallowed heavily and tried not to think about what I was stepping on.

"Where are we headed, Katniss?" Messalla asked. Katniss glanced at him sharply, until she remembered that he was asking for the benefit of the cameras.

"The train station," Katniss replied slowly. "Haymitch said that it's still standing."

The soldier walking "point" (which is what Jackson called the soldier out in front) saw it first, but all of us could smell it long before it came into view. Haymitch had said that he could see bodies on the ground. And, even after several weeks, the smell hung strongly in the still summer air.

Suddenly the lead soldier stopped. "Son of a bitch!" She snarled, whipping her rifle up to her shoulder and firing off three quick shots, pausing, then firing off three more. The other soldiers reacted instantly, dropping to one knee, rifles up as they searched for targets. Katniss and I stopped also, along with Messalla, Castor, and Pollux...all of us half crouching, unsure exactly what to do.

"Were those shots?" Haymitch's voice was frantic in my ear.

"Jackson, report!" Boggs's voice joined Haymitch's.

"Stand by," Jackson replied tersely, as she rose up and jogged toward the lead soldier, who was still aiming her rifle at some unseen enemy. I could see, but not hear, Jackson speaking to the soldier, her face wrinkled in disgust, before she turned back toward us and made a "come on" gesture with her hands.

"It's all right," Jackson said as she reported back to Boggs. "There's no threat." The lead soldier had relaxed a bit, lowering her rifle, but she was still glaring in the general direction of the train station. Piles of charred debris from collapsed buildings blocked our view of the train station, except for its roof, as well as whatever it was that the soldier had been shooting at...at least, until we reached the point where she was still standing.

"Oh, shit," Katniss whispered. Bodies littered the street...mostly Peacekeeper, but a few district residents as well. Bloated, decomposing, and barely recognizable as human, except for their clothing, the bodies also showed signs of animals having fed on them as well. A pair of large, dead dogs, their blood pooling under their bodies, were lying close by.

"Next time, don't waste ammo on dogs," Jackson ordered sharply.

The lead soldier clenched her jaw. "Yes, ma'am."

It was pretty apparent why she had shot the dogs, judging from the tears in clothing and the flesh missing from the Peacekeeper's bodies. There were more dogs further down the street, milling around silently, keeping a wary eye on our group. I saw Katniss tense at the sight, and for good reason. Dogs weren't common in District Twelve. These were wild dogs, from outside the fence. And, if dogs could get in here, other predators could as well.

Castor and Pollux were busy recording everything. Messalla approached Katniss and I. "Any thoughts as to why the train station was spared?"

I shook my head. "No." Katniss didn't even say that much.

Messalla pointed to a large wood-framed building at the end of the station. "That's the freight office and warehouse," he said. "Let's take a look."

We walked toward the building, grateful to be leaving the grisly scene of half-eaten people behind us. The soldiers trotted ahead to check out the building, peering into windows as Jackson tried the door. It opened with a creak. She glanced inside, pulling her head out abruptly, gasping once loudly.

"Do you plan on going in there?" Jackson asked Messalla.

"Only if there's something to see for the propo," he replied.

Jackson shrugged a pack off of her back. "Oh, there's plenty to see, all right." She opened the pack and pulled several masks out...rubber things with filters that covered the lower part of the face. She quickly handed two to Katniss and I, and three more to Messalla, Castor, and Pollux.

"Put these on," she ordered, "like this." Jackson demonstrated, fitting the rubber cone over her nose and mouth, slipping the straps behind her head, and pulling the straps tight.

We all complied quickly as the first sickly sweet odor of death wafted from the freight building. I pulled the straps tight, taking a few experimental breaths, noting that the death-smell had disappeared. I turned to Katniss. "Are you okay?"

Katniss certainly didn't look okay. Her eyes were wide and the sides of the mask were dimpling in and out rapidly with her breathing. "I'm fine," she snapped. Great. Even surrounded by death, she's still pissed at me.

"Come on," Jackson said tersely. In single file, we followed her into the darkness beyond the half-opened door.

It's dark inside the freight warehouse, the only light coming from the few dirty windows. It's hot, too...hotter than outside...and stuffy, even with our masks on. It's been a long time since any doors or windows were opened here.

Our eyes slowly grew accustomed to the dim light. I noticed that the rest of the security squad stayed outside. Jackson was the only soldier to accompany us into the building.

"Peeta," Messalla's muffled voice said. "Describe where we are."

"In the freight warehouse, next to the train station," I replied, my own voice sounding just as muffled. "Why didn't this burn also?"

"It was spared deliberately," Jackson said, glancing around the room, her eyes lingering on the corpses of a half-dozen Peacekeepers, huddled near the center of the room. "Still," she continued, "the winds must have been favorable that day. Otherwise this place would have gone up like everything else."

We approached the bodies of the Peacekeepers. Bloated in death, they were all still clad in full armor, including helmets and face shields, and for that I was grateful. "Funny," Jackson continued, "there's almost no bullet holes in the walls, and the windows are all pretty much intact."

"That's strange, Lieutenant?" Messalla asked, as Castor's camera turned towards the soldier, even as she squatted next to one of the Peacekeepers.

"Yeah," she said thoughtfully. "Yeah, it is. Look." Reluctantly, Katniss and I stepped closer to the Peacekeeper she was examining. "No evidence of blood. No bullet wounds." She quickly examined the other Peacekeepers. "No apparent wounds on any of them. Helmets are intact. Their armor isn't compromised." I noticed that she didn't touch any of them as she spoke.

"So, how did they die?" Katniss asked softly.

Jackson straightened up. "I'm no pathologist," she said. "But they weren't shot. My guess is smoke inhalation from the fires outside." She pointed toward the back of the warehouse. "Looks like more back there."

"They suffocated," I said softly. I suddenly felt sorry for these dead Peacekeepers. They didn't die in battle. They took refuge in here when the bombs fell...perhaps noticing that the train station was not being targeted...and suffocated.

"They were left to die," Katniss muttered.

"I didn't quite hear you, Katniss," Messalla said, as Pollux trained his camera on her.

"They were left to die!" Katniss practically shouted. She whirled around, her mask heaving in and out, her eyes blazing angrily. "Look at them. Not a mark on any of them. They were alive when the bombs fell...and Snow sacrificed them. He let them die!"

"I hope every Peacekeeper in Panem sees this!" Katniss was definitely shouting now. "Look at them. Look at how much Snow cares about your life. Is that the kind of man you want to fight for? Snow doesn't give a shit about you. He left them to die...and he'll do the same to you!"

"Peeta?" Messalla turned to me. "Anything to add?"

"No," I replied quietly. "No, I think Katniss said it all."

In my ear, I could hear Haymitch's voice crackle faintly in my earpiece. "Holy fuck. Plutarch is gonna love this."

PART IV

Andromeda Snow, along with her best friend, Sperantia Blackstone, was watching "The Capitol Stage," her favorite talent program on Capitol TV, when the image suddenly flickered, steadied, flickered again, and then faded out.

"Shit," Speri muttered in disgust. "Just when that cute boy from the Tower district was gonna sing!"

Meda tapped the remote control as the broadcast continued to flicker and flutter. "That's weird," she said. "We're supposed to be on a closed feed here."

The image suddenly stabilized, the projection filled with the face of a dark-skinned, middle-aged man wearing thick glasses and a short beard. "Hello, Panem," the man said. "Stand by for an important message from the Mockingjay."

Meda frowned. That man looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't quite put a name to the face. She just wanted her talent program back. "Who's this guy?" She muttered as she continued to work the remote control.

"The 'Mockingjay?' A message from a bird?" Speri said in disbelief. "Meda, where's 'The Capitol Stage?' Get it back!"

"I'm trying, Speri," Meda said. "I'm -"

The projected image is suddenly replaced by a view of rubble and destruction, narrated by another man's voice. "This is what's left of District Twelve," the man is saying. "Destroyed by the Capitol during the Reaping Day Uprising." The view shifted slightly, and Meda gasped in surprise and delight.

"Speri, that's Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!" She said excitedly. "But they're not in District Twelve! I've been there before. It's not all burned up like that!"

"Oh, Meda," Speri said, half playfully, half in disgust. "You are such a fangirl! Look at you...mooning over that traitor Peeta Mellark like he's some kind of -"

"Shut up, Speri," Meda replied coldly. "I've met Peeta. He's kind, and gentle, and -"

"- he killed a Peacekeeper," Speri pointed out. "With a knife. Or have you forgotten?"

Meda chewed on her lower lip. She had watched unedited video of the Reaping Day Uprising in District Twelve, courtesy of a flash drive that Minister Blackstone, Speri's father, had carelessly left unsecured, and had seen first-hand Peeta throw the knife that had killed a Peacekeeper. Still...

"I haven't forgotten," Meda finally replied. "But he must have had good reason."

"Of course he did," Speri said confidently. "He's a traitor."

"Stop calling him that!" Meda snapped angrily.

"Oh, Meda," Speri said softly. "I know how much you like them both. But face facts. Everything that's happened in Twelve is their fault. And my father says that it's only a matter of time before we get the other Rebel districts like Four and Eight under control again."

Meda wasn't so sure. Her grandfather was working very late hours every single day and was growing more and more short-tempered...even with her. Meda turned her attention back to the Holo-TV, where Katniss was shouting something angrily.

"I hope every Peacekeeper in Panem sees this!" Katniss was shouting. "Look at them. Look at how much Snow cares about your life. Is that the kind of man you want to fight for? Snow doesn't give a shit about you. He left them to die...and he'll do the same to you!"

Katniss was gesturing toward a bunch of Peacekeepers lying on a wooden floor. They were very still, and Meda realized with a shock that they were all dead. Dead because of Grandpa, according to Katniss, she said to herself.

"Andromeda," a soft voice said quietly from behind her. Meda and Speri both turned to see Meda's grandfather, President Coriolanus Snow, standing in the bedroom doorway. "Turn the television off."

Meda fumbled with the remote, hastily turning off the Holo-TV. "Grandpa, I-"

Snow held up one white-gloved hand. "Enough. And you are not to speak of this broadcast to anyone." He looked pointedly at Speri. "Either of you. Do you both understand?"

"Yes, Grandpa," Meda replied quietly.

"Yes, sir," Speri said, her voice trembling slightly.

Snow allowed his lips to curl up in a small smile. "Good girls. Sperantia, it's getting late. You should be getting home. My driver is downstairs. He will take you."

"Yes, sir," Speri said again. She turned to Meda, giving her friend a quick hug. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"Bye, Speri," Meda said, returning her hug. Speri quickly left the room, carefully brushing by Coriolanus Snow. She didn't look back.

"Andromeda," Snow said softly, but firmly. "Perhaps you should finish your homework now. It's getting late."

"Yes, Grandpa," Meda said. "Are we still going to the lake on Sunday?"

"The lake," Snow repeated, his brow furrowed in a frown. "I'm afraid not. Something has...come up. And I will require your father and mother to assist me on Sunday. I'm sorry, Andromeda. Some other time."

Meda tried to swallow her disappointment. The lake was one of her favorite places. "Yes, Grandpa," she said quietly. "Some other time."

"That's a good girl," Snow said, giving his granddaughter a tight smile. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Grandpa," Meda replied as Snow shut the door behind him. As the door closed, she heard her grandfather say to someone that she didn't even know was there, "Tomorrow, remove the Holo-TV from Andromeda's room."

"Yes, sir," a voice replied instantly.

Meda didn't do her homework right away. She didn't because she was thinking about what she had seen on the Holo-TV...with Katniss and Peeta in what they said was District Twelve. And she also thought about what her grandfather said...both to her and to the unseen person that had been standing in the hallway the entire time.

Andromeda Snow was confused. Confused by everything that has happened since Reaping Day. Confused by the ever-increasing distance between her and her beloved grandfather. And confused by something that she had never before felt with her grandfather until this night.

For the first time in her life, Andromeda Snow was afraid of her grandfather.