Redemption of a Butcher Chapter 14: Interlude: Fire!, a hunger games fanfic

ME: Ready, Aim, Fire! (Yes, the chapter titles are references to RVB) A/N: Interlude. Warning: Here comes the fiery crucible that is combat.

"MEDIC!" Enobaria yelled out desperately. "MEDIC, WE NEED A MEDIC OVER HERE!"

But the Lieutenant only had basic medical training and even she knew a goner when she saw one. The woman-no, girl; she barely looked eighteen-had been fatally wounded and would now bleed out.

Worse, with her emerald green eyes and dark hair, she resembled Clove far too much. Enobaria cradled her subordinate's head in her lap; she was a Peacekeeper and Warrior of Two like her sister had been for volunteering, she deserved as much comfort as possible.

"Mama," the girl pleaded weakly. "Mama..."

She definitely was on death's door now; the most informal way Peacekeepers usually addressed their parents was to refer to them as Mom and Dad. The poor kid was now verbally regressing as she forever left Earth. Enobaria never believed in any religion, for it was forbidden in Panem, but she prayed to whatever higher powers existed to allow this girl to rest in the afterlife. That particular law would no longer be heeded by her, for denying the girl even the illusion of eternal peace was wrong in every way.

"Mama..."

Enobaria found herself checking the girl's pulse; she was dead, and her body grew colder. She looked at the dog tags:

FLAVIUS

CONSTANCE F

30633-71984-CF

O POS

ARMY

Major Flavius walked over. She remembered; this Constance girl was his younger cousin, a fresh recruit recently assigned to her and Laura to protect the citizens of Two. And she had failed to protect her, although the Lieutenant just had to take one glance at her Major to know he felt the same way if not even more so.

Bravo Platoon, consistent of roughly fifty Peacekeepers, was grateful to have been reinforced by a group of Loyalist Militia soldiers from all of the Career Districts, including a Victor named Lawrence Fisher.

Commanding roughly half of the forward defense of the evacuation efforts, Enobaria noticed that Lawrence's hands were shaking as he gripped his medium machine gun, an automatic weapon like the SAW but firing 7.62x51mm rounds instead of 5.56x45mms. But it was not of fear, but rage. And she knew what fueled his anger (and probably his sister's).

The rebel army was marching towards their positions every nanosecond, and since District Two was the only District that did not revolt against the Government of Panem (in that the local populace remained largely loyal, more so then One and Four although the refugees were proof that not all were welcoming treason into their hearts), the rebels only needed to leave token garrisons in the conquered Districts while sending the bulk of their troops to Two. From information gathered from POWs (namely worldweary continental ones), the primary strategy of Thirteen's military was to send waves of unarmed/poorly-equipped continentals to exhaust Peacekeepers and deplete their ammo. Judging by a bitter joke she had overheard from two captured Rebs and her own experience, the Lieutenant presumed it correct.

"You ever seen a dead Thirteener?" A dark-skinned boy eighteen at most with an Eleven accent asked another with a Six accent.

"No, I have not," replied the male prisoner from Six. "They conveniently never seem to die."

Worse was the fact said army was now choosing to broadcast their propaganda in the most obnoxious manner possible.

"Peacekeepers and Loyalist Militia troops," the political officer from Thirteen yapped, "surrender! Do not sacrifice your lives for the sake of greedy Capitolite hedonists!"

The District One female she had disciplined earlier chose the perfect moment to unveil a common insult regarding the Rebellion's leader that had been written via permanent marker ink.

"COIN LOVES THE COCK!"

The flustered commissar growled, but an announcement came from Major Flavius.

"Commander," he asked, "do you want my answer regarding surrendering?"

"YES!" The Thirteener yelled, clearly annoyed.

"Here it is!"

Just as Flavius finished his sentence, there was the distinct report of a .50 caliber anti-material rifle. The political officer's head exploded like a watermelon, and the battle began.

"BRAVO PLATOON!" Enobaria ordered. "FIX BAYONETS!" They could get close, she reasoned; no need for the Loyalists to be overconfident and get caught with their pants down.

Artillery shells, fired from both mortars and howitzers, rained down upon the initial waves of rebels (with no Thirteeners, conveniently, in their ranks). However, in spite of this and in a manner that was, a Private with a District Two accent stated rather eloquently, "Fucking illogical," they continued to advance to their deaths screaming battle cries.

"FOR OUR PARENTS!" Lawrence yelled, sending a controlled burst into a gray-uniformed rebel; the Peacekeeper officer bitterly reflected Laura, guarding her platoon's right flank, would undoubtedly utter (if not already saying it) the same battle cry. "DEATH TO THOSE WHO RAPED AND MURDERED SALACIA, A HOUSEKEEPER'S DAUGHTER WHO NEVER AS MUCH AS SLAPPED ANYONE!"

Oh, Enobaria thought, rage boiling over as she took out a rebel NCO/officer-type, those Thirteeners didn't just have to murder a girl for her mother's employer, they had to make her suffer a fate worse than death too? Good job improving Panem, Katniss Everdeen.

The Militia volunteers and Peacekeepers joined Lawrence in outlining everything wrong with the Rebellion. "FOR DISTRICT ONE'S DEFILED GIRLS!" "DEATH TO THE RAPISTS OF DISTRICT FOUR!" "JOHNNY REB, YOUR POLLUTING OF THE GENE POOL AND NATION WITH YOUR IDEALS AND ACTIONS SHALL FOREVER END!"

The unarmed cannon fodder waves, along with the suicide vest-bombers and those not armed with firearms, now largely lay dead in front of the barricades. Now the rebels sent in their best; trim men and women in gray uniforms, experienced continental soldiers now wearing helmets and, most tragically, insurgents who looked to be from the Career Districts, particularly Two.

These veteran troops now made full use of their tactics, equipment and experience as any of the Peacekeepers she commanded would. They did not charge stupidly, only running into the gunfire of the Loyalist soldiers when they needed to. Even then, they made sure to have only some charge while the others offered suppressing fire. Because of it, more rebels lived while Peacekeepers and Loyalist Militia soldiers died.

Like bacteria, Enobaria reflected, they had adapted and were now more resilient. But a body's immune system could adapt as well, and she was one of many white blood cells.

Enobaria noticed one of the Thirteeners, a fourteen-year old dark-skinned girl that vaguely resembled Rue from the Seventy-Fourth Games, grab a grenade. As if she was on autopilot, the Lieutenant immediately aimed and fired her rifle, emptying her magazine.

But alas, the girl was still able to throw it with the last of her energy while shouting, "LONG LIVE THE MOCKINGJAY!"

The frag grenade sailed through the air and landed behind the barricades. A District One Militiaman noticed and without hesitation threw his body over it; Enobaria already knew what would happen.

"GRENADE! GET CLEAR, GET-."

The man was cut off by the frag exploding, blood splattering on Enobaria's visor because of how close the Peacekeeper officer was. A Peacekeeper combat medic (distinguishable by red cross markings on her uniform) ran over, but she held up her hand. The hero who had saved his siblings-in-arms lives had done so by sacrificing his own; he would receive his honors, unfortunately, posthumously.

Ejecting her empty magazine, Enobaria grabbed for a spare one only to face a rebel that had somehow gotten past the defenses armed only with a mace.

"DEATH TO THE CAPITOL!" He yelled, swinging said mace and knowing her rifle was unloaded.

The Lieutenant reflected on the fact Johnny Reb didn't know a bayoneted rifle, unloaded or not, was a deadly weapon, more so in the hands of those trained to use it. She avoided the strike then slashed at his throat.

The result was instantaneous-the rebel fell to the ground clutching his bleeding throat eerily reminiscent of Marvel from Clove's Career Pack, looking up at her with pleading eyes. For both the pragmatic reason of neutralizing an enemy and moral mercy Enobaria inserted a new magazine into her rifle, loaded a single round in the chamber, switched to semi-auto and squeezed the trigger.

Suddenly there was the roar of internal combustion engines (which Enobaria remembered from both her schooling and training to be fueled by hydrogen), which indicated the arrival of metal beasts for the rebels. The vehicles were a mixture of technicals (namely modified pickups with machine guns), gun trucks (also armed but not converted civilian vehicles) and motorcycles with armed sidecars attached. Like the cavalry from her childhood stories, they charged at the enemies of their compatriots.

The Lieutenant gunned down one of the sidecar gunners just as a rocket flew from one of the launchers and slammed into a gun truck, reducing it to scrap. A stray howitzer round fell on a technical and utterly obliterated it. The mechanical horses were not as effective as reinforcements as they were during the Battle of the Outskirts of Two.

Suddenly Remus Thread spoke over their frequency. "This is Head Peacekeeper Thread to all units tasked with defending the evacuation efforts, break-break!" There was a brief pause. "All units, be advised: Radar has detected a flight of four, repeat, four bombers on headings that indicate their target is the train station! I say again, bombers incoming and targeting the train station!"

"Shit!" One of her NCOs yelled. "Someone alert those triple-A gunners now!"

"C'mon, Nero!" A female voice yelled.

Enobaria turned around to find the two Cadets (other then the upstart) who stood out in her mind running towards the frontline. The boy was somehow carrying not one but two SAM launchers in addition to his rifle, while the girl was struggling to keep up since she was weighed down by an oversized backpack.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?" Lawrence yelled. "The Major ordered you to defend the station-."

"Still doing that, technically!" The redhead interrupted, while the boy who was apparently named Nero handed her a SAM launcher. "And you're welcome, Fisher!"

"Ma'am," Nero said, his hands shaking, "I hope you're a good-."

A stray round slammed into the barricade; the bullet didn't penetrate or even injure anyone indirectly, but the male Cadet screamed louder then a prepubescent Capitolite girl.

"Oh come on, that didn't even harm any of us let alone you!" The ginger yelled. She grabbed his assault rifle and offered it to Lawrence before taking off her backpack and unzipping it. "Who wants more ammo?!"

The Peacekeeper officer had never fired a SAM in anger, but she knew how to operate it. Waiting to gain a lock on one of the cowardly terror-bombers, she braced herself for the recoil inherent in all ballistic weapons.

"Clear?" Enobaria asked.

"Clear, ma'am," Nero half-whimpered.

"Firing!" She yelled as the Lieutenant squeezed the trigger. "Missile away!"

The hovercraft was evasive, however, and thus the two missiles launched before her failed to hit the engines-as did hers.

Instead, Enobaria watched as the hovercraft had it's left wing blown off (she could not believe that had happened instead of an engine explosion). As a result, the pilots lost control and the aircraft crashed into a group of rebel soldiers. Evidently the bombs somehow detonated, for then the thing exploded and was reduced to burning scrap. She could have sworn she saw a piece of debris decapitate a Thirteen officer with a cap on instead of a helmet.

Lawrence also gained a kill. Using his machine gun, he shot down another of the bombers. In an awful rebel propo video (which claimed that the Boys and Girls in White had the barbarism to exterminate a District Eight civilian hospital, when in reality disguised Thirteen ones did it to justify withholding medical supplies), Everdeen and her cousin had somehow managed to shoot down Peacekeeper hovercrafts with bows and arrows. This was more realistic-the District Four Victor was using a military-grade weapon meant for combat, not some toy meant to encourage ignorant rabble to turn to treason and rebellion. If arrows with that kind of firepower existed, it meant Thirteen somehow was dumb enough to value their lie-ridden propaganda over common sense when it came to military matters. President Coin couldn't be bothered to just shove a gun into her bird's arms?

The other two hovercraft were not shot down by SAMs, but the cowardly bomber pilots woes were not over just yet. Their AA weapons were each equipped with four .50 cal machine guns, and the bullets were HEIAP rounds with the equivalent firepower of a 20mm autocannon shell, far more powerful then the Mockingjay's arrows. The rebel bastards never stood a chance and were shot down-hell, Enobaria even saw one of the pair of would-be mass murderers blow up above ground due to their hovercraft's bombs going off.

The Loyalists cheered at this, and together Peacekeepers and Militia volunteers fought with renewed vigor as their morale shot up. It was as if a light switch had been flipped; the rebels either began to retreat or surrender. They had done it-the orphans, pregnant women, children with families and other helpless civilians otherwise doomed to be tortured to death would now be safe from the hordes!

Enobaria, intoxicated with sheer happiness, began to sing an updated version of the Battle Cry of Loyalists.

"Yes, we'll rally round the flag, boys and girls, we'll rally once again,