CHAPTER 19

PART I

Coriolanus Snow's face was impassive as he watched the Holo-vid. Only the rhythmic clenching of his jaw muscles betrayed any emotion at all. The Holo-vid was short, grainy, and was obviously not recorded using a stable camera platform. However, the faces of the subjects of the video were quite clear.

Snow watched the Holo-vid to the end, and then watched it again in its entirety. When it finished the second time, he finally turned to the man that was standing patiently to one side. "How old is this, Blackstone?" Snow asked, his voice thick with emotion and fatigue.

"Two days, sir." Security Minister Blackstone's voice was also heavily laden with emotion. One of the subjects of the video had been his only daughter, Sperantia. "Our operatives believe that the relief party from District Thirteen had only been on the ground at the refugee center in Eight for a few hours at the time that these images were recorded."

"I see." Snow turned away and steepled his fingers, resting his chin on their tips, a thoughtful look on his lined face. "Sperantia looks well," he finally said.

"Yes, sir," Blackstone replied carefully. "As does Andromeda."

"Indeed." Snow swiveled his chair around and gazed at his Security Minister. "It would appear that both Andromeda and Sperantia are colluding with the Rebels. No matter." He waved one hand in the air dismissively. "Teenage girls are easily coerced. I'm confident that they will both return to normal once we have won the war and they are both safely back here with us."

Hasn't he been keeping abreast of the situation? Blackstone thought. We are losing this war, despite nuking Eight! "We've confirmed that Katniss Everdeen is in Eight as well, sir," Blackstone said, deftly changing the subject.

Snow nodded. "And the asset?"

Blackstone nodded. "The asset is in place as of this morning, sir."

"Excellent." Snow tapped a control on his desk, and a grainy, slightly out-of-focus image of Katniss Everdeen appeared over his desk. "And it is one hundred percent reliable?"

Blackstone nodded. "It's engineered to respond to Everdeen's scent. With luck, she will be with Mellark when the asset is deployed. Killing two birds with a single stone, so to speak."

Another dismissive wave of a well-manicured hand. "No matter. If Katniss Everdeen is dead, Peeta Mellark will be rendered ineffective. What is the earliest that the asset may be deployed?"

"At your command, President Snow," Blackstone replied. After a moment, he added, "Perhaps we should instruct the handler to only deploy the asset when there will be minimal collateral damage, sir."

"Oh?" Snow arched up a single eyebrow. "And why is that, Blackstone?"

"It would make it easier, sir," Blackstone replied, feeling as though he was walking on eggshells, "to affect a positive identification of the remains of Katniss Everdeen if she is the only casualty of our attack."

"And, at the same time, ensure that your daughter emerges unscathed?" Snow asked pointedly.

"Sir, hurting Sperantia would do nothing to further our cause," Blackstone said, his voice teetering on defiant.

"Not to mention your effectiveness as my Security Minister," Snow added. "Blackstone, our civilization rose from the ashes of an ancient, corrupt society hundreds of years ago. Following the Catastrophes, the survivors managed to rebuild and prosper through little more than sheer will and determination. And they were not bothered by trivial matters such as 'collateral damage.'" He shook his head. "However, your concern for your daughter is…understandable. Very well. You may issue your 'minimal collateral damage' orders, but pertaining only to your daughter - and my granddaughter."

Blackstone nodded. "Thank you, sir."

"That will be all, Blackstone," Snow said, dismissing the minister with a wave of his hand. "Send in Spartacus on your way out, please."

Snow began watching the Holo-vid even before the door closed behind Blackstone. A moment later, the door opened again. "Sir," Spartacus Knight, Snow's Chief of Security, said as he stuck his head through the open door, "you wanted to see me?"

Impatiently, Snow waved Spartacus in, his eyes never leaving the Holo-vid projection. Spartacus stood by silently as the Holo-vid played through. He knew better than to interrupt.

When the last image flickered off, Snow stopped the projector and turned to Spartacus. "I want surveillance on Minister Blackstone increased. He's wavering, Spartacus. His daughter in the hands of the Rebels has caused his commitment for the final victory to falter. I want to know immediately if he displays any aberrant behavior. We can't afford an ineffective Security Minister at this juncture, now, can we?"

"No, sir," Spartacus replied firmly.

"That is all, Spartacus."

"Yes, President Snow."

PART II

I awoke with a start, my eyes straining into the darkness of the tent, dimly lit by a pair of chem lights that glowed a soft green, marking the exits at each end. I turned to one side, barely able to make out a shadowy form moving near the cot next to mine. I must have made a sound when I turned, because the form stopped moving and turned to look at me, and spoke softly.

"Peeta," Katniss whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep."

I glanced at a clock that hung from the end of my cot. 4:37 in the morning. "I have to get up in twenty-three minutes anyway," I murmured as I propped myself up on one elbow. "The question is, why are you up so early?"

"Haymitch woke me up a half-hour ago," Katniss explained quietly. "Plutarch called him last night. He feels that I would be more useful being videoed at some staging area near the border with District Five, rallying the troops."

I frowned. The closest border with District Five was at least three hours away by truck. "Just you?" I asked, not liking the idea of letting her out of my sight.

"I'll be fine," she assured me as she sat on the edge of my cot. "Messalla and Castor will be going, along with half our security squad." She leaned forward to kiss me and I noticed that she was wearing her full Mockingjay uniform, complete with bow and quiver of arrows. "Besides," she added after she kissed me, "I'm pretty much useless here. You know how I am around sick people."

She had a point. We had been treating refugees for the last three days – people either horribly burned from the nuclear firestorm, or sickened by radiation exposure – and, even though our efforts were token at best, the constant stream of dying people was taking its toll on everyone, including the professionals. Doctors, nurses, medical technicians, and Healers like Prim Everdeen were all nearing exhaustion, both mentally and physically, and it was no easier on amateurs like me.

"I'll be fine," she repeated as she stood up. "Go back to sleep. I'll see you tonight."

"'Go back to sleep,' she says," an irritated voice muttered from the other side of the tent. "I'd like to still be asleep, but that's impossible now, thanks to you two lovebirds."

"Sorry, Jo," Katniss said, not sounding at all sorry. As she turned to leave, she grabbed a jacket hanging above her cot and tossed it onto mine. "When you see Prim, give this to her to wear. It's too cold out for her to be running around in scrubs."

I picked up the jacket, recognizing it as the leather jacket that Katniss wore while hunting. I knew it meant a lot to her…it was one of the few possessions of her father's that she had managed to hang on to. "Will do," I said with a smile.

Just then, Haymitch stuck his head inside the tent. "You ready, Sweetheart?" he asked jovially.

Katniss sighed and, in the dim light, I could see her roll her eyes. "Yes, Haymitch."

I squinted as a small electric lantern blazed to life. "Fuck you, Abernathy," Gloss grumbled as he rolled out of his cot. "Hard enough to sleep here without you making all this fucking noise."

At this, Haymitch laughed. "Y'all have a good day, now," he said, and then ducked a boot that Cashmere threw at his head. To Katniss, he said, "Let's go, Sweetheart. It's a long drive."

"Coming," Katniss replied impatiently. She bent over me one last time and gave me another quick kiss.

"See you tonight," she whispered.

"I'll be here," I murmured, and then pressed her dark glasses into her hand. She was still a little sensitive to bright light. "Don't forget these."

"Oh, for the – just go, already!" Johanna snapped.

Katniss flashed me a smile, mouthed the words "thank you," and was gone. I clutched her jacket to me for a moment. I had a vague, uneasy feeling about her going away like this, but, at the same time, I knew how uncomfortable Katniss was around all the victims of Snow's nuclear attack. And I knew that she wouldn't leave unless she was confident in the knowledge that her sister was safe.

Finnick walked by my cot and gave my flesh-and-blood foot a playful smack. "Let's go, Peeta," he said with a grin. "Or do you need an engraved invitation?"

"I'm up, I'm up," I said as I swung my legs out from the bed, shivering a little as the cold air hit my exposed skin. It was below freezing outside, and Finnick, who was on his way to the latrines to clean up, was dressed accordingly.

Enobaria, on the other hand, appeared dressed for summer weather. "You Fours act like this is cold," she scoffed. "This is nothing compared to winters in District Two."

"I'm sure the princesses aren't cold," Gloss muttered. "They get to stay in a real building with the doctors and nurses."

The "princesses" was the name that the Careers had given Andromeda Snow, Sperantia Blackstone, and Primrose Everdeen. While it was true that they were billeted in much nicer quarters than we had, they worked just as hard as the rest of us, and probably harder than any of the Careers. "Gloss," I said evenly, "those girls are probably already setting up in the triage tent. So, you may want to cut them a little slack. Okay?"

"Hmmphhff," was his only response. Finnick caught my eye, grinned, and shrugged his shoulders. He had taken an almost brotherly interest in both Katniss and I on this trip, not to mention the protectiveness that he showed Prim, Andromeda, and Sperantia. I suppose it helped to keep his mind off Annie Cresta, his fiancée – she had suffered what Dr. Aurelius called a "minor breakdown" the night before we deployed to Eight, and had remained behind. I suppose we served to keep his mind focused on the task at hand. I didn't mind. I liked Finnick a lot.

"Let's go," he urged, "before these other assholes use up the hot water."

I grabbed my towel and toilet kit. He didn't have to tell me twice.

A crowd was already gathering outside the wire when we arrived at the triage tent. "Good news travels fast," Gloss muttered as he eyed the growing mass of sick and injured.

I didn't reply. Instead, I sought out Prim, who, along with Andromeda Snow and Sperantia Blackstone, had indeed been busy setting up the triage tent while the rest of us were just getting out of our cots. Prim smiled when she saw me, and then frowned as I handed her Katniss's jacket.

"Strict orders from the Mockingjay," I said sternly. "You are to wear this, being as you always seem to forget your coat in your quarters."

"Where's Katniss, Peeta?" Prim asked as she shrugged into the too-large jacket. Quickly I explained Katniss's new assignment.

"That makes sense," Prim said after I finished talking. "Katniss is really no good at this sort of thing." She tugged at the hem of the jacket. "Thank you for bringing this to me. I have been getting cold, working in here."

I smiled at her. "Any time." I leaned forward and lowered my voice so only she could hear me. "How are Meda and Speri doing?"

"Better than I thought," she admitted. "They are hard workers. And it's nice to have roommates. When they put me up in the building with the doctors I thought I was gonna be all alone."

I understood. Prim had never had to deal with living alone before, and she was very close with both Katniss and her mother. With a pang, I remembered how difficult it had been for me to live without my brothers always teasing me good-naturedly. I realized that I hadn't thought about them, or my father, in a long time.

Fortunately, Andromeda Snow snapped me out of my self-induced mini-funk. "Prim," she said softly, "do you think I should open a new box of the large gauze dressings before we open?"

"Sure," Prim replied with a smile. "Go easy on the morphling, though. Save it for the terminal cases. Make them comfortable."

"Okay," she said, and then glanced at me. "Hello, Peeta."

"How are you holding up, Meda?" I asked. I hadn't had much chance to talk to her since our arrival here.

She shrugged. "Okay, I guess." She looked over at the door to the tent. "There's just so many hurt people!"

I nodded. "I know." I patted her on the shoulder. "Keep it up."

She sighed. "Thanks. I'll try."

A tap on my shoulder caused me to turn around. There stood Pollux, wearing his camera shell and helmet, with Lavinia close by his side. "Good morning, Pollux – Lavinia," I said with a smile.

Pollux grinned, his even white teeth showing through his reddish-blonde beard, and signed something to me. I hadn't kept up on my learning of sign language – Castor was always nearby to translate when needed – and I was only able to make out an occasional word. Lavinia tried to help, but with both gesturing at me I was only becoming more and more confused.

"I'm sorry," I said apologetically. "I don't understand."

"He wants to know if you will be working with Prim, Meda and I today, now that Katniss is not here," a soft voice behind me said. I turned to see Sperantia Blackstone standing behind me, her arms full of dressings and antiseptic packs, and my eyes widened in surprise.

"You understand what they're signing?" I asked.

She nodded. "My father had Avox working for him as house servants," she explained. "I picked up their sign language about when I learned to talk. I'm not very good at signing myself, though," she added apologetically.

This girl was full of surprises. "Speri," I said, "as long as Castor is gone, how would you like to be our interpreter?"

"What about Dr. Picardo?" she asked.

"I'll fix it with him," I assured her. "We need someone that can understand Pollux and Lavinia. And that's you. I'll talk to Picardo, don't worry."

"Talk to me about what, young Victor?" a familiar voice said. I turned and saw Dr. Josephus Picardo stride purposefully into the tent.

"Good morning, Doc," I greeted him, and then quickly outlined my idea to use Speri as our Avox interpreter in Castor's absence.

He nodded thoughtfully. "An excellent utilization of existing resources," he said when I was finished. "Very well." He turned to Speri. "Sperantia, you are excused from your medical duties until further notice."

"About that," Speri said hesitantly, "would it be okay if I still helped whenever I can?"

Picardo glanced at Pollux, who nodded vigorously. "Your temporary supervisor says yes," Picardo said, "and I have no issue with accepting your assistance. You and Andromeda have done remarkably well here, considering the primitive circumstances."

"Thank you," Speri said softly, embarrassed by Picardo's praise. Josephus Picardo was not a flatterer. He meant every word that he said.

"Now that we have settled the issue of interpreting for our erstwhile Avox colleagues," Picardo said loudly, "I think it's time we open for business."

A Rebel soldier had been standing by near the entrance to the triage tent. Catching Picardo's eye, she nodded once before stepping out into the frigid air. "They're ready," I heard her call out. Through the walls of the tent, we could hear the now-familiar sounds of soldiers moving about to provide security for us, and for other, similar tents…we Victors, along with Andromeda and Sperantia, may have been here primarily for show, but the Rebel Council – a loose coalition of leaders from other Rebel districts – was now determined to provide as much aid to the bombing victims as it could.

If this aid didn't interfere with the war effort, of course.

As we finished setting up, Finnick nudged me slightly and flicked his eyes in Picardo's direction. I followed his gaze and smiled as Cashmere took up her usual position, which was never more than a couple of steps away from Josephus Picardo. Finnick saw my smile and grinned back in return. Picardo and Cashmere was the most unlikely pairing imaginable, and it was obvious that the usually calm, detached doctor was enjoying the attention that Cashmere was lavishing on him.

Johanna saw us watching Cashmere and Picardo. She snorted and shook her head. As she worked, I heard her mutter, as if to herself, "Love is weird."

I thought of Katniss and smiled again. It sure is, Jo, I thought. Weird…and oh, so wonderful.

PART III

"Let me have your attention," the officer, a young lieutenant, said, his amplified voice booming out towards the throng of people pressing up against the wire fence. "We will open the gates in two minutes. Do not rush the gates! Everyone will be seen. Priority will be given to children under twelve and –"

A nondescript man stood on the fringes of the crowd and tuned out the words of the Rebel officer as the animal that stood at his side pressed against his legs and quivered slightly with excitement. The man, who gave every outward appearance of yet another bombing refugee, reached down and absently scratched the animal on its head, ruffling its fur slightly between its wolf-like ears, before his fingers trailed down the animal's neck until they brushed against a solid strip of material embedded across its spine.

The man's fingers moved fur aside and he glanced at the exposed metal strip, where a tiny light burned a bright green. Satisfied, he patted the animal on its side and leaned down so his mouth was near one wolf-like ear. "You smell her, don't you?" the man whispered, and felt an immediate quivering response. A wave of radiation-induced nausea swept over the man and he dropped to one knee as his stomach clenched and threatened to erupt. The man clenched his eyes shut and forced himself to take slow, deep breaths until his nausea subsided. The animal at his side looked up at him questioningly before its tongue lapped twice over the man's face.

"Soon," the man promised. "Soon, and we'll both be able to rest for eternity knowing that we've done our duty." The man rose to his feet with an audible groan. His superiors had insisted on exposing him to radiation to the point of illness – otherwise, they had explained, merely pretending to be ill would not have fooled any of the doctors or other medical staff in the refugee center. No sacrifice too great for the glory of the Capitol, and the preservation of Panem, he thought, as the crowd began to shuffle forward. They said that I would receive medical treatment to reverse the effects of radiation, once the mission was successfully concluded. But I know better. And to die for such a noble cause…what an honor.

The man was shaken from his reverie by the sound of another man's voice. He turned to face the refugee that had been speaking to him, and irritably snapped, "What?"

The refugee, a small man dressed in shabby work clothes, recoiled from the man's hostile tone. "Easy, citizen," the refugee said quickly. "I was just asking if you would consider selling your dog. Good thirty or forty kilos of prime meat on that one!"

The man possessively dug his fingers into the animal's scruff. "Not for sale," he muttered with a glare. Next to him, the animal, sensing the man's tension, laid its ears flat against its skull and bared its teeth menacingly as an almost inaudible growl rumbled in its chest.

The refugee was persistent. "A trade, then?" He glanced knowingly at the man's ragged clothing. "Listen." The refugee lowered his voice conspiratorially and leaned closer to the man. "I know where there's a warehouse full of winter clothing. Genuine Peacekeeper issue. Parkas packed with groosling down. Keep you warm in the coldest weather."

The man's hand suddenly shot out, his fingers closing around the refugee's throat. "I said 'not for sale,' and I meant it!" he hissed. The refugee's eyes widened as he fought for air, his own hands clawing ineffectually at the man's iron grip. "Now, leave me alone!"

The man released the refugee, who stumbled back, gasping, even as a pair of Rebel soldiers ran up, carrying their carbines across their chests. "You two!" the lead soldier barked. "Break it up!"

The man scratched the animal reassuringly as he rose to his feet. "Everything is all right," he said calmly. "Just a small disagreement about my dog."

The soldiers glanced at the man, and then at the refugee, who was standing nearby, gingerly rubbing his throat. "You get one warning," the lead soldier said firmly. "And this is it. Any more trouble and you go to the back of the line." The soldier looked pointedly at them both. "That applies to both of you."

"I understand," the man said smoothly. "About how much longer, do you think?"

The soldier glanced over his shoulder at the crowd of refugees, then turned back and shrugged. "Hard to say. They see children and families with children first. Shouldn't be more than a few hours, at the most."

The man nodded. "Thank you." He knelt back down next to the animal and stroked its fur as he watched the soldiers walk away. "Soon," he whispered. "Once we're in the gate, nothing can stop us." The animal turned its head towards the man's voice and licked the hand that caressed its jaw. The man looked down at the animal's large, intelligent eyes and smiled.

"No matter what else happens," the man whispered, "the Mockingjay dies today."

PART IV

"How many more children?" Prim called out as the next family came into the tent.

"I'll check," I said, as I stuck my head outside the tent. A quick glance told me everything that I needed to know. I dropped the tent flap and turned to face Prim. "Only adults after this," I called out.

"Thanks, Peeta," Prim said with a smile, and then turned to the family. A young couple with a single child – a girl of maybe six or seven years of age. My practiced eye flicked over the trio as they stood by nervously. No obvious signs of radiation sickness, I thought. Certainly, sick from exposure and malnutrition. I nodded to myself. They'll live. At least for now.

The morning rush had slowed considerably, so Picardo had begun to send some of the staff to lunch. Once he was through with his examination of the family then he and Cashmere would get something to eat, leaving his instructions with Prim, who was more than capable of completing whatever treatment that Picardo had ordered.

"Bring them over," Picardo said, waving one hand impatiently. I nodded and approached the family, smiling at them reassuringly.

"The doctor is ready to see you," I said. It was then that I noticed the little girl, her eyes wide with fright, clinging to her mother's leg, refusing to move.

"I'm sorry," her father said softly. "She's frightened. She's never seen a doctor before." The man glanced nervously at Picardo. "None of us have, for that matter."

"Don't worry," I reassured him. "Nothing to be afraid of." I bent down towards the little girl. "Come on," I urged her with a smile. "Dr. Picardo will make you feel better. Nothing to be worried about." I held out my hand to her but she shrunk back even more.

Now what? I looked up at the girl's mother. "Really, it's okay," I said.

The mother simply looked embarrassed. "Calico, honey, come on," she murmured as she tried to urge the girl forward. The girl simply whimpered and clung to her mother's leg even tighter.

"Let me try," a soft voice said from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see Sperantia Blackstone kneeling just behind me.

I moved to one side and straightened up. "Hi," Sperantia said softly. "My name is Speri. What's yours?"

The little girl looked at Sperantia warily, but finally replied, "Calico."

Sperantia smiled at the refugee girl. "Calico. That's a pretty name."

Calico smiled shyly. "You have a funny name," she said.

"I'm not from here," Sperantia explained. "I came to help." She gestured at the rest of us. "All of us came here to help. Would you let me help you?"

Calico seemed to relax a bit, but she still didn't move. Sperantia inched a little closer and held out her hand. "Come on, Calico," she said softly. "No one will hurt you. I promise."

"I'm scared," Calico whispered.

"I know," Sperantia continued gently. "I know what it's like to be scared. But you have your mommy, and your daddy, and me here to protect you. And I'll stay with you the whole time. Okay?"

For a long moment, Calico continued to cling to her mother's leg. Finally, ever so slowly, she released her grip on her mother and slid her hand into Sperantia's. "You'll stay with me the whole time? Promise?"

"I promise," Sperantia said as she straightened up. "Come on with me. We'll let the doctor and my friend Primrose take a look at you."

Calico giggled. "Your friend has a funny name, too."

As Sperantia and the family walked past me, I said softly, "Nice job."

"She reminded me of someone I know," Sperantia said, her voice thick with emotion.

"Oh, really?" I replied. "Who?"

Sperantia glanced back over her shoulder as she ushered the family into the first exam area. "Me."

With that, Sperantia drew the curtain to the exam area closed. I smiled and shook my head. That girl is full of surprises. "I do believe there's hope for you yet, 'Hope,'" I murmured under my breath as I turned away.

A soft whistle caught my attention, and I turned to see Pollux grinning widely and making the "okay" gesture with one hand. I understood him perfectly. He had captured the entire exchange between Sperantia and Calico on camera – and that was just the sort of video that Plutarch would drool over when he saw it.

Of course, leave it to Enobaria to bring us back to the present. "How touching," she said, her voice sweetly sarcastic. "But you don't suppose that you can lend Gloss and I a hand before the afternoon session starts, do you, 'Soldier' Mellark?"

"Be right there," I sighed. Behind me, Pollux gave a rueful chuckle, earning him a playful dirty look from me. Only a few more days of this, and we'll be back in Thirteen. I can't wait to finally have a little privacy with Katniss! I glanced at the smirking faces of Enobaria and Gloss and sighed again. Not having to live with them twenty-four hours a day will be a huge bonus, too.

A few minutes later, Dr. Picardo emerged from the exam area. "Give them each a broad-spectrum antibiotic," he was saying to Prim, "get them fed, and then send them to the shower point so they can clean up." He paused and added, "Send them to the clothing tent before they bathe. No sense in them laundering the rags they're wearing."

Prim nodded. "Yes, Doctor."

"Remember, Primrose," Picardo continued, "have them wait fifteen minutes following the administration of the antibiotic before sending them to the mess tent. We wouldn't want them to –"

"- throw up everything that they've eaten," Prim finished with a smile. "I know, Doctor."

Picardo looked startled for a moment but recovered quickly. "Of course you do, Primrose," he said fondly. "Well, then. Cashmere and I are going to grab a quick bite, then. We shouldn't be long." He glanced over at me. "Young Victor, would you care to join us?"

My rumbling stomach told me it had been quite some time since breakfast. "Sure, Doc," I replied. I glanced at the others. "Anyone else?"

Pollux and Lavinia nodded vigorously. Gloss muttered something that may have been "not today." No surprise there – he and Enobaria usually took their meals separate from the rest of us, even more so since Picardo and Cashmere had become so, shall we say, "close." I shrugged and looked at Sperantia. "How about you, Speri?"

The girl hesitated before replying. "Would it be okay if I went with Calico and her parents?"

I couldn't help but notice that Calico had a firm grip on Sperantia's hand. "Sure," I said with a grin. I patted her on the shoulder as we all walked past her towards the rear entrance of the triage tent. "We'll be back soon."

"Peeta." I stopped and turned towards Prim. She was still bundled in Katniss's too-large leather jacket. "Please let me know if turnips are on the menu again today. I just may skip lunch if they are."

I chuckled. "You aren't big enough to skip meals." I glanced at Pollux and Lavinia. "Shall we?"

Pollux ushered me out of the tent with an exaggerated sweep of his arm, and together the five of us strolled towards the mess tent. I glanced up at the sky and felt the sun warm my face as it made its first appearance in days. Now that, I said to myself as we walked, feels great!

PART V

"Hold it."

The man stopped at the command as the guard to his front glanced down at the animal at the man's side. "Where do you think you're going with that?"

The man coughed weakly and slowly wiped bloody sputum from his chapped lips. Those bastards gave me too much radiation, he thought. I need to complete my mission now, while I still have the strength. To the guard, he said, "That is my dog. What would you have me do with him?"

The guard didn't seem to have a ready answer for that. "I…I'm not sure," the guard stammered. "Ain't no one ever tried to bring a dog in here before."

The man reached into his shabby coat and produced a length of cord. "I suppose I could tie him to the fence," he offered. "As long as no one bothers him while I'm gone."

The guard looked relieved at the suggestion. "Okay, sounds good," he said as he gestured towards the fence. "Tie your dog over there."

The man guided the animal to the indicated spot of fence and began to make an exaggerated production out of tying a loop in the cord. Stupid rebellious district scum, he thought. He glanced casually at the line of tents that had been set up to treat District Eight refugees. He then knelt next to the animal, who was trembling with excitement, its nostrils flaring, and ran his hand through the animal's fur one last time.

"You smell her?" the man asked. The animal whined, low in its throat. The man dropped the cord to the ground and fished a small, metallic box from his jacket pocket. A small light on the top of the box glowed green. The man examined the indicator light for a moment before flicking a switch on the side of the box. The green light disappeared, replaced now by an amber glow. The man ran his hand across the animal's spine near the base of its skull, quickly exposing a similar amber light. The man nodded in satisfaction and slowly rose to his feet.

"Hey!" The man swiveled his head towards to source of the voice. It was the same guard. "Are you gonna tie your dog up, or what?"

The man smiled. "I changed my mind," he said with a smile, while making a furtive hand gesture with his free hand.

The gesture was the command that the animal had been waiting for. With unnatural speed, it bolted away from the man, speeding unerringly towards the third triage tent. The guard watched, open-mouthed, as the animal, moving so fast now that it was a brownish blur, sped towards its target.

"Someone catch that dog!" the guard shouted as he and another guard approached the man. "Just what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Killing the Mockingjay," the man replied with a smile, as he smoothly drew a pistol from beneath his coat and quickly shot both approaching guards. So much for "collateral damage," the man thought, smiling as he watched both guards crumple to the ground as the crowd of refugees, panicked by the gunfire, began to bolt in all directions.

"And that's not a dog," he added as he watched the animal disappear into the third tent. Over the panicked cries of the crowd and the shouts of guards trying to work their way through the stampeding mob, the man heard the sound that he had been waiting for – an unearthly, almost human howl. He smiled and flicked the switch on the box once more, and then depressed a rubber-coated plunger when he saw the indicator light glow red.

"That," he said softly, as the sides of the third tent bulged outward, and the sound of an explosion rolled over the camp, "was a muttation, courtesy of President Coriolanus Snow."

PART VI

"How do you feel?" Prim directed the question at the entire refugee family.

"Fine," the man replied quickly as he rubbed his hip. He had never had an injection before the one that Prim Everdeen had given him, just a few minutes before, and the place where she had inserted the needle was sore. "Can we go now?"

Prim glanced at the clock and shook her head. "Eight more minutes," she said firmly. "You don't want to get sick if you have a reaction to the injection."

The woman squeezed her husband's hand and leaned closer to Calico. "Just a little while longer, baby," she said softly.

"And then we eat?" Calico asked hopefully.

Sperantia smiled at the little girl. "And then you eat."

Further conversation was abruptly stilled by a sudden commotion outside the tent. "Now what?" Gloss grumbled, looking up from the box of supplies that he had been unpacking.

"I'll check," Enobaria said as she moved towards the entrance to the tent. She had only taken a couple of steps before they all heard a pair of loud, sharp reports. Enobaria glanced back at Gloss. "Gunshots," she said, her face grim.

Prim's eyes widened in alarm. "Gunshots? What –"

Enobaria and Gloss were already in motion. "You!" he barked at the refugees. "Out the back. Now!" He spun around. "Eno, show them the –"

He never finished his sentence. The flaps of the front entrance flew open as a brown blur burst into the tent. It had been moving so fast that it actually tumbled over itself as it tried to stop. It would have been almost comical in other circumstances. Here, no one was laughing.

"A dog?" Prim said, confusion in her voice.

The animal stood stiff-legged, its snout raised in the air as it sniffed frantically. "That's no fucking dog," Gloss muttered. "That's a mutt." He sidled carefully to one side, trying to place himself between the mutt and Prim. He risked a glance over his shoulder at the refugee family. "Get out of here," he ordered hoarsely. "NOW!"

The man finally began to move, pushing his wife and Calico behind him and towards the rear entrance, even as Enobaria placed herself between the mutt and Sperantia. Her muscles tensed and she bared her sharpened teeth, anticipating an attack by the dog-mutt. But the animal was ignoring her, focusing all its attention on Prim. Still, it didn't attack. It did something else.

The mutt raised its snout in the air an unleashed an almost deafening howl. Gloss's eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of an amber light glowing from a metallic strip across the mutt's spine. "Oh, shit," he whispered, before bellowing, "everybody DOWN!"

Gloss dove towards Prim, knocking her bodily to the ground, even as Enobaria did the same to Sperantia. The last thing that Gloss ever heard in his life was the sharp huff of air as he knocked the breath from Prim's lungs. He didn't hear the thunderous explosion as the mutt was blown to bits.

PART VII

I set my lunch tray down and grinned at Picardo. "Now," I said, "the question is, do I tell Prim that turnips are on the menu again, or not?"

"A dilemma, indeed, young Victor," Picardo replied. "Perhaps if there were a change of pace to beets, now –"

Finnick was just rising to his feet, his empty tray in hand, when suddenly he froze. "Shhh!"

I glanced up at him in alarm. I had heard the gunshots as well. Cashmere spun around on the bench, her butter knife clenched in one hand. "We're under attack," she stated bluntly.

"Yeah, well, if we are," Johanna pointed out, "that butter knife ain't gonna do you no good, blondie."

A pair of armed soldiers entered the mess tent, holding their carbines at the ready. "Everyone remain in place for now, until we find out what's going on."

Cashmere slowly lowered the knife, but she didn't sit back down. "I'm not in the habit of letting others do my fighting for me," she snapped. "Give me a gun. Hell, give me a decent knife and I'll –"

A tremendous explosion rocked the mess tent, the concussion slamming into us with brute force. For an instant following the blast, it was completely silent in the tent, before complete bedlam erupted, and people began running in all directions.

I jumped to my feet, stumbling a bit as my prosthesis caught on an uneven patch of ground. Finnick grabbed my arm and spun me around. "That blast came from the triage tents," he said urgently.

We didn't waste any more time. The pair of soldiers that had ordered us to remain in place were frozen in their tracks, looks of shock on their faces, as Finnick and I brushed by them and literally burst through the twin flaps of the tent's front entrance. Finnick pulled me after him as we fought our way through the panicked crowd that was growing more panicked with every passing second. I was getting jostled with every step that I took, until Finnick and I finally broke through the crowd – and stopped dead when the line of triage tents came into view.

Triage Three – our tent – was half collapsed, one end sagging badly as dirty, yellowish-brown smoke poured from its vents. "Oh, no," I managed to whisper as I stared at the tent in horror. Prim…Speri…

"Easy," Finnick said softly. "Easy, Peeta." Soldiers and medics were rushing towards the tent, impatiently cutting through the tough synthetic fabric if a door wasn't readily available. Weak-kneed, I tried to pull away from Finnick, but I couldn't find the strength. As we watched, a pair of medics crawled out from the wreckage and ran towards a nearby storage tent. Their path would take them directly past us.

Finnick didn't waste the opportunity, grabbing one of the medics by the arm as they darted past. "Who made it out?" he asked sharply.

The medic stared at Finnick, then at me, a haunted look on her face, and managed to mutter two words.

"No one."