Chapter 4: Once a Sneak

(District 6, during the war)

"I hate these things," Simon grumbles, throwing his crutches to the side as he hobbles into the empty chair at the computer terminal.

"Not much longer," Madge murmurs. Used to this routine, she retrieves the crutches and sets them near him so he'll have them when he needs to get around again. Which, from past experience, will be in about 5 minutes. She'd rather not have to sit through another outburst of 'Where the hell are those damn things?' when he wants to relocate.

But Simon's attention is already focused on logging in to the computer using the codes Fiona gave them. While Madge waits, she looks around the shabby room. A single bare light bulb dimly illuminates the peeling paint and specks of mold on the walls, which explains the musty smell. A few tiles from the ceiling litter the floor, no doubt shaken loose by the shelling that—fingers crossed—really is over now.

"This used to be the post office building?" Madge asks skeptically. It's definitely not functioning as a post office today. All communications outside the district—mail, phones, electronics, and whatever else—are still firmly unavailable. The rebels have been using the former post office building for whatever serves their needs. And today, it serves Madge and Simon's needs by supplying them with electricity, a functional computer, and proximity. Specifically, being within transmitting range from the bank.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, not everything is as high class as District 12," Simon mutters sarcastically, clearly only half listening to her and either not remembering or not thinking about the fact that District 12 is no more. He doesn't notice Madge's flinch at the reference, but she shakes off the uneasiness because seconds later the computer screen lights up with a logo Madge doesn't recognize, distracting her and triggering Simon to smile.

"Excellent. It worked." He swivels in the chair to turn his attention to Madge. "All right, Madgelet. Within five feet. That's how close the transmitter needs to be. Anything less and you might as well stay home and paint your nails."

"I only did that because that little girl needed to be distracted—"

"Whatever," Simon waves off her excuses. He doesn't spend as much time with the other refugees as she does, preferring instead to devour all those ledgers and notebooks Fiona gave them. "Closer is better, but five feet is the magic number."

"I know," she huffs. They've been over the plan approximately fifty thousand times. What else are they going to do in the safe house when Fiona hasn't sent for them and Simon can barely walk? She sticks out her hand. "Just give it to me."

Simon turns back to the box near the computer and retrieves two small electronic devices. He hands one to Madge and attaches the other one to the computer he's just booted up. Once she's holding the little machine in her hands, the plan suddenly feels more real and a wave of nervousness breaks over her.

"You'll be fine," Simon says nonchalantly, noticing and just as easily dismissing her anxiousness. He grins. "Just do it and then come back here and wait for the good stuff to happen."

She nods, and then looks through her purse for what must be the fifth time since they left Patty's house. All the papers she needs are still where they were when she checked three minutes ago. Good. She's ready.

"Don't break a leg," he calls as she closes the door. She takes him making jokes as a good sign. He's been in a much better mood since he's been able to do something to fight back against the Capitol, although until this moment the type of fighting he and Madge have been planning has all been theoretical.

Madge briskly exits the crumbling post office building and heads next door toward the bank, appreciating as she walks the total absence of any white uniforms. The Peacekeeper forces have formally retreated from the town area, although the fighting is continuing in the district's refinery sector and along the pipeline. The anti-aircraft machines the rebels installed in the town square are supplying her with slightly more confidence to walk around in the open again, and a glance around the square confirms that she's not the only one: she sees more people out and about than before. Even without a comparison point for what's normal in this district, all these people must be a good sign. Businesses are starting to re-open… The ones that weren't totally destroyed. Crucially, the bank is intact. Simon had explained that the Capitol wouldn't have wanted to destroy something it would need later, if it succeeded in quelling the revolt in the district, so the bank was never a target.

Madge walks up the front stairs—made out of the same type of marble the District 12 Justice Building had been constructed from, which lends the building a spooky familiarity—and stands in the short line. Banking apparently isn't a high priority for residents who've been struggling to feed themselves and avoid getting caught in cross-fire since the war began. When it's her turn to talk to the teller, she steps forward and nervously says, "New account, please."

The teller signals a co-worker who gestures for Madge to sit down with him at a desk. When she joins him, the man smiles warmly. "You're doing the right thing, Miss. It's a real vote of confidence."

"What? Starting an account?"

"Oh yes, it says a lot that you're not hoarding your cash at home. We'll take good care of it here, I guarantee you."

Madge blinks, realizing the bank is desperate for business. And hoarding does sound like a better idea than turning cash over to people this desperate and in times as uncertain as these… But that's not really her concern at the moment. She smiles mildly and pushes her fake identification papers across the table.

"Just a basic account, please."

"Certainly." He starts filling out some paperwork and Madge studies his desk for something she could use to hide the transmitter. Unfortunately, he appears to appreciate orderliness. She feels her heart start to beat faster as he nears the end of the form—she's going to have to do something soon. Simon will be furious if she blows this opportunity. He wanted to be the one to hide the device, but his crutches make maneuvering difficult and draw too much attention to him.

She leans forward to rest her elbows on the desk and props her head on her hands, intruding slightly into the banker's space. He glances up at her. "Almost finished, Miss Wells."

Madge flashes him the fake smile her mother used to give people from the Capitol when they overstayed their welcome in the Undersee house. "Are these your children, Mr. Fiery?" She gestures to the framed photograph of two little boys who look approximately the same age as Gale's brothers, assuming Gale still has brothers (which she does assume; she needs to believe he'd protect them or die trying). It's another tactic her mother employed: enquiring about family members. Always gets people talking. It's a little risky after all the fighting District 6 has seen—there's a high probability this man has lost a family member; Madge certainly did—but she figures the fact that he's displaying the picture indicates a willingness to talk.

"Yes, although my sons are a little older now," he beams, pausing to look affectionately at the picture.

"They look charming," Madge says, standing up and moving around to his side of the desk. She's doubling up on some of her mother's best tricks now—no one can resist bragging about their children and people love to be told they're charming. It's a nice vague, flattering term that they can take however they please. "Are they going to grow up to be bankers like their father?"

The banker lifts the photograph and seems to be talking to it. "You know, Sam does have a natural aptitude for math… Why, just the other day he was helping my wife halve the recipe for bread—rations, you know—and he was doing fractions in his head…"

While the banker recounts the 'charming' anecdote of his son's amazing mathematical abilities, Madge leans farther onto his desk, again resting her head on her hand as she smiles and nods at the story. Her body is largely blocking the banker's view from the fact that her far foot is sliding open the bottom drawer of his desk. Just a few inches—enough for her to use her far hand to drop the transmitter into the bottom of the drawer, where with a surreptitious glance she confirms it will be hidden below all the carefully color-coded hanging folders. She reaches into her pocket, gently drops the device, closes the door, and focuses her attention on the banker again.

"He sounds so smart," Madge gushes when the story concludes, and moves back to her side of the desk. "Hopefully all this," she gestures outside, implying that she's talking about all the fighting and warfare, "will be over soon and we can get back to the important things in life." She has no idea what those important things will be in her life, since she no longer has a family, but that just gives her all the more reason to go all out in this project.

"I sure hope so, Miss," the banker agrees. He taps a few things into his computer and less than 10 minutes later, Madge walks away from the desk holding an account number and certificate. And more importantly, not holding that transmitter.

Madge smoothly leaves the building, heart racing beneath her calm exterior, and walks back to the post office building. It takes everything she has not to run. She does burst dramatically into the room, though, startling Simon, who's engrossed in one of the ledgers Fiona gave them.

He looks up questioningly at her and she nods tightly. "Easily within range. I got it into a drawer near one of the computer terminals." She hands him the account information, which he swiftly types into the computer.

"It has to establish a connection," he says nervously, not taking his eyes off the computer.

After a few tense minutes, the screen starts to blink. Simon sits up a little straighter and Madge moves closer to the screen.

"It worked," Simon says in a disbelieving tone. With a series of keystrokes, he gets the screen to display several columns of numbers. "Unbelievable," he breathes. "I didn't think that tech actually could pull this off…" He pushes a small metal device into a port on the computer and a little light flashes.

He turns to look at Madge with a smile she's beginning to recognize as him succeeding at tricking someone. "We're going to get them where it hurts."

#

Over the next few days, they immerse themselves in analyzing the information from the accounts, mostly in front of the computer at the old post office, but Simon arranges to buy a printer from someone in town so they can print things out to keep analyzing late into the nights. There's nothing else to do, and having a project energizes both of them.

"I knew it," Simon mutters. He scoots to the edge of his bed so he can show the page to Madge. She's in her usual spot in the chair in his room and leans forward. "Look at this funds transfer on the 14th."

Madge scans the columns of numbers. "So?"

"The exact same amount that shows up three days later over here," Simon explains, grabbing another folder from a pile on the bed. "Being transferred to Metallurgy Incorporated. To their account with an access point in the Capitol."

Madge immediately paws through her notes. "But… that metallurgy company… they manufacture ammunition." She looks up at him and frowns. "So the Murrays are funding the war for the Capitol?"

"Not for long." Simon smugly pulls the relevant papers into a small pile. "We can put a freeze on it."

"How?"

"Well, you and I can't… but the technology exists."

"What does that mean? We steal the money from them?"

"It means they'll no longer have access to that money."

"So who does? It has to go somewhere."

"It's frozen. No one can use it, until the truth can be sorted out."

"When will that happen?"

Simon looks exasperated. "When will the war be over? Yeah, I'd like to know that, too, Madgelet. Get out of this backwater and get some real food…" He trails off with a glance at Madge, evidently aware that he's about one sentence away from one of her lectures on being grateful for the hospitality Patty is providing to them in this safe house. Instead he shifts and pulls out the notebook that lists all the companies registered in District 6 and hands it to Madge. "Double check in here and try to think if any other companies might have connections to this one. These links are usually more of a web. We can cross-reference the accounts if we find anything."

Madge takes the notebook and starts flipping through its pages. If she wanted the Capitol to win the war and wanted to secretly transfer money to them, how would she do it? She gets so immersed in imagining the illicit transactions that she barely notices the time passing.

She and Simon continue working, the TV on quietly in the background in case a rebel propo breaks into the broadcast. Madge has developed a finely tuned reaction to drop whatever she's doing when she hears the opening bars of anything that sounds like a propo. The rebel propos invariably cheer her, but the true enticement is the possibility of seeing a few seconds of Gale. He's apparently important in District 13 because he shows up in a lot of the propos, looking strong and determined, which she always knew he was and now other people seem to be realizing, too. The Capitol propos, on the other hand, have become even more disturbing ever since a second one featuring Peeta started airing. It's obvious he's being tortured, and Madge can barely breathe thinking about what poor, sweet Peeta is enduring. Both types of propos motivate her to stay awake with the print-outs when she's feeling tired.

Late that evening after Patty and most of the few remaining refugees have already retired for the night, a knock at the front door disrupts the quiet. Madge and Simon are still awake and pouring over the documents, so Madge gets up to answer the door. Looking through the peephole, she's shocked to find that the late-night visitor is none other than Fiona Shaw, rescuer and architect of both Madge and Simon's fates. Fiona appears as hostile and irritated as ever, but what Madge sees is the possibility of a trip to District 13. She eagerly opens the door.

"Margaret Undersee," Fiona observes, her tone detached. "You're up and functioning." She steps into the house and pauses to take in Madge's appearance, making Madge acutely aware of the baggy, cast-off shirt she lives in these days and the pants that don't quite reach her ankles. Add to that her hastily chopped hair and she knows she looks like a disaster. Fiona, in contrast, is dressed in a tailored neon green dress suit and it's clear that being a rebel mastermind has not interfered with her manicure sessions.

"I'm feeling much better, thanks," Madge says to the unasked question, but Fiona ignores the slight and starts clicking in her high heels down the hallway toward Simon's room.

"I need to talk to you and Simon. He awake?"

Madge scurries behind Fiona, who reaches Simon's room before she gets a chance to respond. By the time she walks in, she can see from Simon's tense posture how pissed off he is that she didn't warn him about Fiona's unannounced appearance and that he's trying to figure out what insult he wants to hurl at her first.

"How are your legs?" Fiona asks by way of greeting. Madge can see her frowning at the crutches. "Can you walk unaided yet?"

"My legs are itching to kick someone in the—"

"Soon," Madge interrupts. "He'll be able to walk unaided soon. The last time the doctor was here, he said just a few more weeks."

Fiona looks displeased to hear this news and pauses to open the black leather portfolio she's carrying. Typical Capitol, Madge thinks to herself, using something more expensive than a month's worth of food rations to carry around paper. Fiona sighs impatiently and rifles through some of the pages.

"Fiona," Madge cuts in before Fiona steers things in her own direction, "Can we go to District 13? We could be helpful there, I'm certain of it." She doesn't even bother appealing to the argument that would be most persuasive to other people—that practically every surviving District 12 inhabitant is in 13 and she'd like to reunite with them. Instead, she tries to speak Fiona's language: of what use Madge and Simon can be to the rebels.

Discussing a possible trip to 13 is evidently not the first item on Fiona's agenda because she shoots Madge an annoyed look. "We'll discuss your next move momentarily. First, Simon: the status of the banking resources here?"

"Compromised," he glowers. And then he adds with a self-satisfied grin, "And compromised right back."

Madge thinks she sees a faint flicker of approval from Fiona. "Yes?"

Simon explains how he and Madge were able to gain access to the bank's records and identify likely Capitol supporters. "There are more than you might expect," he says, handing Fiona the pile of papers he and Madge had collected that show which individuals and companies are possibly supporting the Capitol.

Fiona makes a hurrumphing sound as she accepts the papers. "Nothing surprises me these days." She flips through the pages and then slides them into her portfolio. "Continue your investigation until you're able to walk unaided," she instructs Simon, who looks mutinous at being told to do what Madge knows he was already planning to do. "And then I think we'll send you to District 3. Hostilities have formally ended there and we'll need these same types of investigations performed."

"What about 13?" Madge interrupts. "Shouldn't we join up with the rest—"

"No, you're needed elsewhere."

"Can we at least contact them? I have friends from 12 who were rescued and they probably think I'm dead—"

"Impossible. Communications with 13 are reserved only for the highest strategic priorities. Not chats with friends." Fiona sounds disgusted that Madge even asked.

"What about family?" Simon asks. "My mother and brother in the Capitol also probably think I'm dead."

Fiona shakes her head. "No, too risky. And your value is even higher now that everyone in the central administration office believes you died."

She pauses as if debating whether to tell them something else and then finally says, "You're both extremely useful to us as deceased—we're giving you both Sensitive Status."

Simon looks impressed at whatever that means, but Madge is just confused. He notices her expression and explains. "One step below Classified Status." When Madge continues to stare back at him blankly he elaborates again. "No one can know about us."

"No one does know about us…"

"And to minimize risks, we're keeping it that way," Fiona says. "Simon knows too much about the central administration office for him not to be a high priority target if Capitol loyalists discover he's still alive."

"What about my friends in 13?" Madge says, trying again. "What if you just tell them I'm alive but not Simon? I don't want them to worry about me. And I'm using another name so it's not like anyone else would figure it out." Or care, she refrains from adding. Nearly everyone she knows is in 13 or this house.

Fiona sighs impatiently. "I can barely get sixty seconds of transmission time to update Command on issues of vital strategic importance. Your social life can wait until more widespread communication is possible."

"My friend in 13 has a duplicate set of Simon's identity papers," Madge blurts. "If he uses those papers, won't that jeopardize Simon?" There, if Simon's so valuable to Fiona, surely she'll get the word to 13 that Gale shouldn't use those papers, and then he'll ask why and learn she survived.

Fiona looks sharply at Simon. "Explain."

Simon sighs wearily. "We don't know for sure, but it's a possibility. You know the Mockingjay's cousin? Or boyfriend or best friend or bodyguard—whatever he is these days—the guy who was with her in the hospital propo? He may have a set of papers with the same name I'm using here."

Fiona looks even more pissed off than usual and shakes her head as she jots something on a page in her portfolio. "Simon, I'll have to get you a new set of papers to be safe."

Madge thinks Simon looks pleased he'll be able to leave the name Melvin behind, but she's still worried about Gale. "What if Gale uses the identity?"

Fiona purses her lips. "In light of his apparent importance to the rebellion as the Mockingjay's companion, I may be able to expedite a communication channel to warn Headquarters in case they're planning to use the papers."

"And tell him at the same time I'm still alive?" Madge adds hopefully, brightening slightly. "Katniss, too?"

Fiona makes another note in her portfolio. "I'll see what I can do."

Madge exhales in relief. It worked to appeal to Fiona's pragmatism in not wanting to risk someone so obviously important to Katniss, given Katniss' role as the symbol of the revolution. She's grateful Gale has that little bit of extra built-in protection to help him stay alive…

Simon adjusts himself into a sitting position in bed and says, "We'll need another transmitter when we go to 3." He's apparently thinking through the mission already. "Madge successfully planted one here and it worked well. Tell Dewey all we need is more of the same." He grins at Madge. "We can clean up the rest of these districts, too."

Fiona peers down her nose at Simon. "Margaret will not be joining you in District 3, Simon."

Madge is so stunned she can't speak. Of course they're going to continue to work together. Simon needs Madge to help him get around and she needs him because he is the only person she has left in the world.

"No," Simon rejects firmly. "We're a team. You'll screw everything up if you separate us."

"Simon's still teaching me how to look for the patterns," Madge adds. "And he's not really well enough to cope on his own." She ignores Simon's scowl at that last comment, but she does think it's true. Anyone else would probably kill him rather than put up with his antics.

"Margaret has a more pressing task she needs to turn her attention to."

"No," Madge says automatically. No way is she leaving Simon to go be Fiona's puppet somewhere. She doesn't care what they need her for. She knows she's being useful doing her work with Simon. "I'm sticking with Simon," she declares.

Fiona ignores Madge's defiance and continues speaking as though she hadn't been interrupted. "We need you to recruit your aunt and uncle to the cause."

Aunt and uncle? It hadn't occurred to her that she could ever find them—she doesn't even know which district they were living in when the war broke out. And then she starts to get angry—she has no idea what they look like, either. They could be horrible, hateful people for all she knows! Simon is all she has left now and she's not abandoning him.

"I don't even know them," she tells Fiona, angry defiance lining her words.

Fiona opens her portfolio and begins reading. "Uncle. Dusty Whistler. Civil engineer in District 2, employee of the Public Works Department. Intimately familiar with key infrastructure elements in the district." She glances up at Madge. "I take it you're aware that the preparations to take the Capitol hinge on our ability to control 2?"

Madge scowls at her feet. Yes, she's heard the other refugees talking about that and understands how important it could be to have an insider guiding the rebels through District 2's roads, bridges and utility connections…

Fiona continues talking. "Aunt. Perri Whistler. Anonymous publisher of an underground pamphlet series on the illegitimacy of the Snow Administration and the Hunger Games. Long-time sympathizer to rebel beliefs, but hiding behind the cloak of anonymity." Fiona looks up at Madge. "Do you want to take a guess about where, as a couple, their loyalties lie?"

"So recruit them yourselves," Madge shoots back. "They sound like they're already on our side. But they don't know me any more than I know them. The last time I saw them, I was four."

"They're skittish. Understandably, as the only living relatives of a mayor whose district and family were destroyed in one night. And they've been burned by the Snow Administration before… They keep to themselves and have been under close watch by Capitol operatives. So far all of our attempts to approach them have failed. The situation in District 2 is still extremely tense, with traitors being hung daily. But the appearance of their own niece would be indisputable proof…"

"What about this Sensitive Status stuff?" Madge asks. "Wouldn't I be breaking that to contact them?"

"We intend to grant them Sensitive Status as well for the types of tasks we need them for."

Madge crosses her arms, not warming to this plan at all and bolstered by Simon's hostility to it, too. Silence fills the room and Madge hopes Fiona is starting to feel uncomfortable.

Fiona speaks after a few moments, still brisk and business-like. "How about this, Margaret? In light of your relationship with Simon… as an effective team… I'll have you join him again once you've successfully completed your mission to recruit your relatives. You should be able to move on to 3 at the same time Simon is well enough to leave 6."

"He needs me here now," Madge counters. "We're still working on—"

"It's fine, Madge," Simon breaks in, sounding defeated. "Your uncle is important to have on our side and I have all the print-outs I need to keep looking for patterns. We can meet up again in 3."

"Great," Fiona says in her same flat tone that she uses for everything. "Margaret, we leave tomorrow morning at 0700."

"That's too soon!" Madge hears herself getting shrill. "Simon and I are still working, I can't leave Patty, I have to pack—"

Fiona cuts her off. "There are no other transportation options. You'll accompany me by hovercraft to Rebel Base West, where you can take a transport into District 2. The officers at Rebel Base West will have further instructions for you, including how to successfully extract your relatives."

Madge can't believe what she's hearing—classic Fiona utilitarianism disregarding all human emotions—and looks at Simon for support.

"She'll be there," Simon tells Fiona firmly. That seems to be all she needs because she promptly turns around and exits the room, leaving Madge speechless and struggling with feelings of betrayal.

"Sit," Simon tells her, using one of his crutches to push her chair towards her.

Still scowling, Madge reluctantly sits on the very edge of the chair, not committed to continued conversation with this traitor.

"She's a Wicked Witch, but she's usually right about things," Simon summarizes reluctantly. "Strategically, securing District 2 is the next highest priority. And Madge, we really could win this thing." He scoots forward, his eyes bright. "Quickly, without drawing out the fighting unnecessarily."

Madge crosses her arms and focuses on a scattered pile of papers on the bed near Simon's knees. The pressure of a crying attack is starting to build in her chest. She lost her parents, Gale, Katniss, and now she's having to leave Patty and Simon, too?

"You can see your aunt and uncle," Simon adds quietly. "Madge, you still have family…"

That pushes her over the edge into the land of tears and she covers her face with her hands as the sobs start to shake her body. If she can even find them, seeing her aunt and uncle will make it seem real that her parents really have died, and is it so strange that she doesn't want to face that?

A/N: Thank you to everybody reading and reviewing! And to kaykay454 since I couldn't respond to you directly, thank you so much for your long review. It was awesome. Thanks! :)