The 425

"Soldier Hawthorne of GDU reporting, sir." Captain Brighton continued whatever he was writing. I stood frozen at attention. Sooner or later he would have to notice I was here.

"GDU?" he asked, still writing.

"The Grave Digging Unit, sir. I understand you have gone to a bit of trouble to get me leave to return to headquarters."

"Yes, just a few minutes, Soldier, I have to finish this up."

I took a deep breath and wondered what he was going to spring on me this time. The last time I had been in this office he had talked me into being interviewed on a number of television shows. They were an assault of blinding lights and nodding blondes:

"So Soldier Hawthorne, are you saying that Katniss Everdeen was traumatized by the idea of continuing the Hunger Games?"

"Ms. Everdeen and all the other living victors were forced to vote on whether the Games should continue. Most of them had been thrown into the Arena, not once but twice, and had had to kill to stay alive. Then Coin tried use them to avoid responsibility for continuing that barbarity. How many of us could handle that kind of manipulation?"

"But she assassinated the President."

"She killed someone who had named herself as President. Who elected Coin?"

"I take it then that you are in favor of the district commanders' plan to have a full public election to choose a new president."

"Of course. Why shouldn't the people of Panem get to vote to choose who will head their new government?"

A few people may have bought into the insanity defense. But more were just horrified to find out that the horror had almost gone on, without their consent, with new management and new victims.

I played only a small part in the drama, but it was the least I could do after what I had taken from her. The problem was that the news stations did not have very many widely recognized soldiers they could interview. They wanted me to discuss any issue even remotely connected with the army. Being away from all of that had been one of the advantages of GDU.

Captain Brighton finally set down his pen. "Ah, yes, Hawthorne. I hear you have become an exemplary grave-digger. Your company has the highest number of completed burials in the entire unit. And you have achieved a consistent level of appropriate decorum." He pushed an enormous stack of papers to the side.

I didn't respond. There was no question.

"I will ask you straight out. Do you want to remain in GDU?"

That was a question and I wasn't sure of the answer. I had gone to GDU to be away from killing, from the chance to hurt anyone. I'd thought that among the dead there could be no more violence. I was wrong.

Grave digging wasn't the problem. Sure, my hands had been covered with blisters at first. My arms, back and neck had ached for a few weeks. But I got stronger with time, although I could never keep up with Soldier Marik Delmar. He was amazing. He wasn't that tall, but he was the thickest human I had ever seen. His biceps were as big as his head, which was the same circumference as his neck. His hands were so bulky they looked like they had been stung by tracker jacks. He could dig day after day without tiring. His iron shovel had become part of him.

In fact, he could keep a steady pace while singing in a deep melancholy voice. He sang songs I didn't know, about a chariot, about a river. The songs seemed right for the work we were doing.

Working with him had kept me sane. I could handle dealing with bodies. I could work through the smell. It was the demented co-workers I was tired of. Most in GDU were there as punishment. Some were just undisciplined, but others were bullies, vicious, sadistic. Marik and I had agreed to stick together, along with a couple of soldiers from District 1, Copper and Shine, who just wanted to finish their time and get out.

I still had nightmares, where I was the monster, doing horrific things to people. Only now the ones I tore apart, butchered in a hundred different ways, were the jerks from GDU. Did the dreams keep me from lashing out in real life or did they mean the monster was resurging?

Had I had enough?

"What else is available, sir?"

"I am recommending you to be Squad Leader, for one of the squads assigned to the clearance of the former command headquarters, sometimes referred to as the 'Nut.'" He looked me straight in the eye.

I looked away from him. "I am not prepared for a leadership position, sir."

"It is my understanding that you have been, at least unofficially, directing the activities of your group," he responded. Someone had ratted me out.

"Sir, there were only four in that group, nothing like a whole squad," I noted.

"A squad has far fewer members than the 800 you marshaled out of District 12," he retorted. I wondered how much of my history Captain Brighton knew. "However, part of the reason I want you reassigned to headquarters is that I have an additional assignment for you. It is optional."

"Sir?" I winced. Not again.

"No, not another media appearance," said Captain Brighton, correctly reading my face. "I am on a Commission which will be drafting proposed Rules for Combat Deportment. I will also be appointing two combat-experienced soldiers for the Commission. I have reviewed your record and I may appoint you." Captain Brighton acted as though everything he had just said was perfectly clear. But I had no idea what he was talking about.

"Excuse me, sir. You are on a Commission to do what?"

He looked up and smiled. "Soldier, at ease. Take a seat."

I sat on the front edge of one of the chairs behind me.

"Many people feel that things were done in the course of the War which offend a normal sense of honor, fairness and decency. Some feel that such actions were unavoidable. Others believe that it may be possible to draft a set of appropriate rules to guide the conduct of war. The purpose of this Commission is to attempt to put together such a set of rules, which the Assembly can then debate and consider." He paused to take a breath.

I jumped in. "Sir, I am the worst possible choice for such a commission."

"Indeed? I believe your time in GDU should have introduced you to some who would be worse on such a commission than yourself." I wasn't sure if he was being funny or not. I couldn't help but imagine the rules, simple but brutal, that some of my fellow grave diggers seemed to prefer.

"If you are a poor choice for such a commission I am sure that I will not eventually choose you. For now I am merely considering you. For your part, all I ask is that you study these historical codes of warfare. Then report back to me."

"There have been codes before? Written codes? Did everyone agree on them?" The questions leapt into my mind.

"So the subject holds some interest for you," he stated. Had I just walked into a trap?

"Let's get back to the idea of making you a Squad Leader. I am looking for someone with leadership potential, which you have accidentally shown in GDU and District 12. For this particular squad I also need experience in various types of ordnance and other explosives. Your work in the mines of District 12 gave you experience with explosives. Your time in the District 13 weapons office has given you an awareness of several different types of ordnance. You are an ideal candidate for this position."

I slumped back into the chair. "Sir, I do not wish to be in any position where I can be a danger to anyone else. And I do not trust my own judgment, which I believe makes me unsuitable for any leadership position."

"You never fail to be interesting, Soldier Hawthorne. As for being a danger to anyone else, I will be blunt with you. This is a moderately dangerous assignment. Dynamite is significantly more volatile than the dead. However, the primary danger will be to yourself. The unit will be comprised of specially trained volunteers who will all have chosen to engage with such danger. It is not likely that you will encounter any enemy combatants, nor civilian by-standers, as the Nut is abandoned. As for your leadership abilities, I find that too much confidence in one's own judgment can be as significant an obstacle as not enough, depending on the personalities involved." Once again he paused, but this time I did not know what to say.

"I believe that my knowledge of both explosives and other ordnance is insufficient," I responded after a few moments of silence.

"I absolutely agree, soldier. That is why I will be conducting your training myself. Report at 0730 tomorrow to the firing range. And this is the first portion of the military codes I would like you to review." He pushed one of the huge stacks of papers on his desk toward me. Then the phone on his desk rang. Before he answered it he said "And take another shower. You still smell of the grave," then waved me away with his hand as he turned to the phone.

That night I lay awake. I had about a year left of my army service. The situation in GDU had been bearable lately. I liked working with Marik. Shine and Copper were decent enough guys who had been sentenced to 6 months grave digging for hoarding. They were from District 1 and weren't used to the army's strict rules about food. But their time would be up by the time I returned. Many of the others in that unit were much more interested in trouble making than grave digging.

Marik and I could watch each other's backs, but if I stayed with that unit sooner or later the brutality around me would make me lose my temper.

I had resolved not to damage anyone. This was more complicated than I had expected. Was staying out of trouble enough? What about standing by and watching as others were brutalized? Surely that made me, if not a monster, at least a coward and a monster's accomplice. Like the Peacekeepers who stood by while I was whipped. If Katniss hadn't been brave enough to defy them I probably would have died.

But maybe I did not have good enough judgment to be the one to step in. Did my evil deeds mean that I had no right to be anyone but the coward now?

Still it didn't take a genius to spot the bullies in the graveyards.

I remembered what my mom had said: I should resolve never to do evil things again and, if I could, repair the damage. Cleaning up the Nut would be a small way to repair some damage I had caused. But I would also get a good look at how bad the destruction had been.

I had a feeling there would be nightmares tonight. I decided to take a look at the stack of books and papers that Captain Brighton had given me.

I finally fell asleep somewhere in the middle of Sparta, an ancient country peopled with Careers. I woke with a start. Another nightmare, another restless night. I had been just about to pound someone's head with my shovel. I groaned. The sun was well up and I had wanted to get to the firing range early. I had a couple of requests for Captain Brighton.

When I arrived I was only about 10 minutes early. Captain Brighton had ear protection on and was firing his service revolver repeatedly at one of the targets. I waited nearby, unable to get his attention. I found my own ear protection and chose a gun off of the rack. Others began arriving and doing the same.

At last he removed the headphones and saw me standing there. "Hawthorne," he said. "Made your decision yet?"

"Almost sir. I had a couple of questions," I responded.

"Fire away," he said, smiling at his own joke.

"Will you remove me as platoon leader if I show a lack of – the words you used were: honor, fairness and decency?"

He raised his eyebrows at me. "I can't guarantee that. You might have a lapse of judgment yet still be the best candidate I have for the position. I can guarantee that I will not tolerate any such lapses without serious consequences."

That might be good enough. "Is the volunteer quota full for this platoon?"

"Almost," he replied. "Why? Did you have someone in mind?"

"Yes, sir. There is a Soldier, Marik Delmar, in GDU. He seems to be a fine soldier, competent and intelligent, but stranded in grave digging because he is the best grave digger they have ever had," I answered.

"Do you mean that they are not allowing him to be promoted because he suits their needs?"

"I have no direct proof of that, sir." I knew I had to be careful here. I didn't want to make official charges against the GDU captain.

"Does he have any experience with explosives or ordnance?"

"Not that I know of, sir. But he is unflappable and the strongest human I've ever known."

"I will take a discerning look into his record," he said. "Now do some target practice before we get started."

It had been a while since I had shot a gun. One of the soldiers was using a Peacekeeper's machine gun. Its sound jolted me back to the Capitol, to Katniss opening the door for me with the gun we had stolen from a Peacekeeper. I shook my head. I needed to clear my mind and focus.

My gun was the standard rifle issued to all new soldiers in District 13. My first round was all over the place. I reloaded and tried to recapture the intensity I used to have in training. I would picture President Snow's face on the target. Now that didn't work. I thought about imagining the face of one of the GDU jerks but that didn't feel right either.

I remembered before all of that and imagined that I was trying for a clean kill of a squirrel, through the eye. Aiming a gun wasn't that different from an arrow. I hadn't had time for breakfast and my hunger helped take me back. My second round was much better. By my third round I could almost taste roasted squirrel.

I decided that, if I was going to be the squad leader, I should take a look at the others, start to get to know their styles. I was standing behind the first bay watching a serious young soldier with brown hair and a scar on his face. He was a crack shot, very methodical, emptying each round into the target in exactly the same way. A voice behind me announced: "Soldier Jaspar Redstone, District 2." I would need to remember that Captain Brighton could sneak up on me, at least during gunfire.

"Time to get to know Squad 425," he said.

The soldier in the second bay was the complete opposite of Redstone. He had white blond hair, a bit longer than regulation, and 5 earrings in a row down the edge of each ear. He was the one with the peacekeeper machine gun, which he fired with flashy abandon, hitting the target regularly only because it fired so many rounds. Captain Brighton shook his head and said "Soldier Primo Mercurius, Capitol."

At the next bay Captain Brighton said "Soldier Reed Groves, District 7." He was a tall, sturdy looking soldier, with light brown hair. He was firing a gun I had never seen before. I tried to remember if I had ever seen Johanna use one, but I didn't think she had. He shot reasonably well, nothing spectacular.

The next guy over was using the same District 13 service rifle I had. He looked familiar; I must have met him in District 13. He was a very consistent shot, nearly always hitting the target, if not on center. "This is Soldier Benjamin Walker, District 13," said Captain Brighton. "Do you know him?"

"I think we've met." We must have had some of the same training classes.

The soldier in the fifth bay was black. "Soldier Wick Chervil, District 11," said the captain. That explained his gaunt build. He held his gun awkwardly, like he had never been properly trained, but he was still reasonably accurate. He gave me a quick smile when he saw me watching him.

Captain Brighton flashed the red light which signaled the end of target practice. He asked us to meet him in a small classroom down the hall. As we walked down the hall he said to me "By the way, I am promoting you to Sergeant, as of now."

In the classroom he called me up front and introduced me as Squad Leader of this newly formed Special Duty Squad 425. I detected some glimmers of recognition from the soldiers, but no one was obnoxious about it.

The captain would be conducting our initial training: a review of the basics, from gun control to squad movement, in the mornings, with more specific ordnance and explosives training in the afternoons, some of which would be taught by experts. Physical conditioning would consist of a squad 5 mile run every morning at 0600 then a time for individual training every afternoon after our last class. Training would last for 6 weeks. Those who successfully completed training would begin our assignment at the Nut. I wouldn't be fully in charge of the squad until training was over. Which was fine by me.

There were only 6 of us, including me, at training, but the captain said that he anticipated up to 4 additional soldiers joining in the next week. I wondered if he was including Marik in that number.

There were thick notebooks marked "Training Manual, Squad 425" on each desk. He asked us to open them to the section on "Gun Maintenance." As soon as our lecture was finished we'd be assigned our duty weapon. We were to keep it with us or under our personal control at all times. If it was out of our control, for any time at all, we were to do a full weapon inspection to check for damage or sabotage. He called Chervil up front to show the methods of sabotage he knew. Chervil had worked in the underground resistance in 8 and showed that sabotage could range from sophisticated tampering with the firing pin to simply stuffing an explosive deep into the gun barrel.

He then directed us to the gun diagrams in our manual. By the next day we would be required to be able to identify and label 5 different models of pistols and 6 types of rifles.

We were beginning to copy down the labels onto the first diagram when three Peacekeepers charged into the room waving machine guns. One yelled "Hands in the air or die!"

I had been sitting in the front corner of the room and had heard the door start to open. I saw the white of the Peacekeepers' uniform, the black of a raised gun barrel and jumped behind my desk. As I crouched there I cursed myself for not having a gun with me. I pulled out the hunting knife I always kept strapped to my leg. I could get one of them, but that left two more.

To my left I saw that Chervil was also behind his desk and he had a gun out. Mercurius was standing in the middle of the room with his hands up. He was the only one. I looked at Chervil and motioned with my head that I was going to move right to draw their fire. I could take one with my knife, dive for the table in middle, and hope that he could take down the other two.

I was about to move when Captain Brighton's voice called out "Soldiers, hold your fire." He walked to the middle of the room, hands gesturing for us to stop. The Peacekeepers put down their weapons and took off their helmets.

"Thank you for your assistance," he said to them. "That's all for now." They left the room.

"Observations?" asked the captain.

"I should've had a gun," I said.

"Mercurius was in the way," said Groves. He was putting the flag pole that he had grabbed back into its stand.

"Mercurius was dead meat," said Walker.

"These desks are lousy," said Chervil. I looked over. The top of the desk he had knocked over had come off. He held it up in his hands. There was some nervous laughter. We all got up and got back into our chairs. I angled mine for a better view of the door. My heart wasn't back to normal yet.

"None of you have studied up on Captain Brighton and his methods," said Mercurius from his chair in the middle of the room.

"And how exactly did you study up on me?" asked the captain.

"I spent last night at Nick's, asking questions," replied Mercurius. "Nick's" was a bar in town, a soldiers' hang out. I'd never been there. "I would've known anyway. No way a group of armed Peacekeepers would get by base security. And why would they target a classroom of trainees?"

"Because they heard about us at Nick's?" said Chervil. Everyone laughed. But I was disgusted with myself for not seeing that it couldn't have been a real attack. Hell's teeth. I was too trigger happy, even with no trigger to pull. I'd almost thrown my knife into some innocent kid's neck. They were just helping with our training. I needed to calm down and use my head.

The day was exhausting. Captain Brighton covered a lot and we had to keep up. As Squad Leader I needed to know all of the material inside and out. Then we had a work out in the weight room at the end of the day. Everyone was showing off. I was sorry Marik wasn't there to put us all in our places. But my day wasn't over.

Captain Brighton gave us all an off-base pass to go to dinner together in town. Of course we went to Nick's. I wasn't used to paying that much money for food. But tonight it was part of my new job.

'Nick's' specialized in meat and beer. As we joined the crowd of soldiers in line the smell of dinner made my mouth water. The large and busy man behind the counter greeted several of the others as he gave us our food. I found a big table over in a corner.

Soldier Redstone sat down next to me and said "I met your cousin once."

"She's not my cousin."

"Oh," he said. "I thought at least that part was true."

I shook my head and asked "When did you meet her?"

"Here in District 2. I was the one in the square. She was talking to me when she got shot," he said, dropping his eyes.

I misunderstood. "You shot Katniss?" I said a little too loudly.

"No, I didn't shoot her. She talked to me." There was a pause, then he added "But it was a friend of mine who shot her."

"Any idea why he had to go and shoot her? She was unarmed," I was still having trouble keeping my voice down.

"He was protecting me. You would have to see the propos we'd seen to understand. We were all terrified of her."

"So am I," I said, "but I didn't shoot her." He looked puzzled, so I added "That was a joke. So were the propos made in the Capitol? What were they like?"

"Maybe we can find some in the Nut. I realized later that they only showed her face at the beginning. Then she would slip on this creepy mask and start shooting people with flaming arrows, or gutting them with this huge knife or . . . . They were gruesome. But the worst part was they said she could hypnotize you with her voice. They'd show all these rebels marching around following her orders with this dead look in their eyes." He sat there and stared at his plate. He seemed to have lost interest in eating.

I wasn't eating either. All I could say was "I had no idea."

The others had all joined us by then. Soldier Chervil was on my other side. "So if she's not your cousin, what is she?" he asked with a leering smile.

"She was my friend. We don't talk anymore," I wanted to end this discussion.

"Lady trouble," said Mercurius. "Don't worry she'll be back. At least they always come back to me."

"Wonder if those count as ladies though," said Chervil under his breath. Everyone laughed.

They all started giving Mercurius harassment about his supposed prowess with all women. I breathed a sigh of relief that they were off of me for a while. Redstone wasn't jumping into the discussion about Mercurius' love life. I asked him quietly "Was I in the propos?"

"A little bit. Enough that I recognized you. But only at the beginning. The part with the mask was always just the Mockingjay," said Redstone.

"How weird. Why didn't you shoot her then?"

"She didn't have on the mask. She looked me in the eye. She was young, just a girl. I asked her to give me a reason why I shouldn't shoot her and she just said 'I can't.' Her voice was nothing like the voice in the propos. And I knew she wasn't the one in the propos. They said she ended up losing her spleen," he said.

"Yeah, she was pretty bruised up, but she recovered." I couldn't discuss Katniss anymore.

"Sorry for bringing the whole thing up," he said. We went back to listening to Mercurius and Chervil. They were witty, but I couldn't shake a heavy feeling.

I ate my dinner and drank the beer, but it didn't help. I decided to make it an early night. The Squad would get to know each other better without me there, both because I was the leader and because I was a grouch.

I stood up. "Gentlemen, good night. I am not much of a night owl, but don't feel like you have to leave just because I am turning in."

They all said good bye, but no one else got up.

I was almost to the door when a red-headed girl jumped up from a table nearby. "Gale Hawthorne?" she called and I turned to look at her. She was a lot better looking than any of the army girls in Nick's that night. Or maybe it was that she wasn't in uniform and had a headful of flaming red curls. She was hard to miss.

Before I could answer she was next to me, smelling like some kind of flower and looking up at me with wide eyes. "You're even better looking in real life than on T.V.," she said.

I wanted to get back to the barracks, but her sudden attention froze me in my tracks. I didn't want to be rude, but . . . The redhead grabbed me and pinned a kiss on my lips. A flash blinded me, then she ran out of the bar with another girl who had just taken a picture of us.

They were gone. They had their picture. And I had the feeling I'd been set up.

Thanks to my great beta, IrishLuck19. I have no idea how you have time for it all.

Thanks wonderful reviewers. You make my heart sing:

Wisdomgoddess26 – a fellow early riser.

November92009 (aka HopeNeverDies)

Heart the Squid

Solaryllis

MountainAir

KidsInLovex

EchoDeltaNine

Analyn Lana Ruse

Lostliveson4eva

Private Tucker

TheGreenBook

If you liked it – please review. If you hated it – please review. If you had no idea what was going on – please let me know.