I lean against the window of the train as we fly through the wheat fields of District 9 at several hundred miles per hour. The golden acres turn into a blur that stretches toward the horizon. The blazing sun of the late afternoon just begins to dip beneath the western mountains which house the Capitol. We will arrive in only a few hours.

There was a very spirited debate whether or not to move the seat of government after the Revolution. The idea of keeping control in the same buildings that housed our former tyrants was abhorrent to many and at first ruled out. Then the endless months of debate and counter debate in which District the new Capitol would be built. No one could agree. 2 of course wanted it because they felt that had the most to lose by changing the Capitol. 11 wanted it because they felt that they were the most abused District under Snow's government. A representative from 4 even suggested putting the Capitol on a ship and sail it around the entire coast line of Panem.

Eventually, we realized that the greatest compromise would be to keep things exactly as they were, with one major difference. Though people who lived within the Capitol would have the same rights as those who lived in the Districts, they would receive no representation in the legislature. Only the Districts would have the right to pass laws for themselves.

"More coffee, Sir?" A voice breaks my concentration and rouses me from my meditative state. I turn to find a female attendant holding a pot over my empty cup.

"Yes, Please," I respond mindlessly. She fills my cup to the brim, pulls some sugar packets and cream from a pocket on her black apron and moves on to the other passengers in the car. Since travel between the districts is no longer restricted, more and more citizens move around the UDP for business or pleasure. One of the new government's first initiatives was to develop a more robust infrastructure, including a national rail line at prices that people in every District could afford. I wouldn't call it luxurious by any stretch of the imagination, but at least it's comfortable and efficient. District 1 to District 13 in about 24 hours, why ask for more?

Even though I could probably swing a private train with my position, I never do so unless I absolutely have to. I enjoy being around people; makes me feel more like a normal human being rather than some kind of fugitive. However, of course, the name tag stays off.

After another half an hour or so, the setting sun finally outpaces our journey westward and darkness envelops the train. I look to my left to see a mother traveling with her two children. Their dress indicates that they have been on the train since District 8, a very long day indeed. They all seem to be fighting sleep but losing rapidly. The mother is probably a few years older than me, and therefore probably has some recognition of the old regime. Her two boys can't be older than five or six. All three of them quietly slip into slumber. I smile as I think it is because the mother knows her children will never be taken away from her and therefore has never had to warn her children about it. They have never had to watch slaughter become spectacle. Never wonder if the boys will be forced to go to the steps of the Justice Building to sign up for tesserae just to put something in their empty bellies and that their mother will have to make a meal possibly bought with her own offspring's blood.

Peeta's words run through my head once again:

"The descendant of a Capitol Councilor marrying into the family of two Tributes, maybe there is hope for this country yet." I know he is right, and it is like a weight lifted from my shoulders, until I remember the whole reason I made this trip. The Sixteen are disappearing.

I keep staring at the mother and the two children and wonder if I will ever have the chance to begin a family with Lizzy. There was never a question that the two of us wanted children from the very beginning. District 4 has two traditions: fishing and large families. Lizzy was the youngest of six. From what I could gather, the Snows didn't share in that thinking. Large families are often to the detriment of despots bent on establishing a dynasty. My grandfather had one son, and that one son had two children, myself included. When I married Lizzy, I swore that I would change that and start a family that would only be limited by the amount of love in our hearts rather than who would be a better choice to carry on the status quo. Now, as I face the possibility of having that future ripped away by a stranger I have never met, I think back to Prim and Haymitch Mellark and am least happy that Katniss and Peeta were able to have that future. They probably deserve it more anyway.

My mind continues to drift. I remember the very first time I ever met the woman who would become my wife:

I had been alone in the Capitol for two years after my decision to stay. I had flung myself into the military life and had just returned from my first combat: the border incursion of the Central American Union. They were never powerful enough to challenge the Peacekeepers of Panem with their ancient claim on the land that had become District 10, but figured that the new UDP government was weak and disjointed enough that a single district could be ripped away. They were wrong. The mechanized unit I commanded led the charge and we pushed all the way from our Borders to the Trans-Oceanic Canal. Total Victory.

The result was that my minders now had at least some trust in my intentions and gave me a level of freedom that was new to me. The thirst to learn was overwhelming, and I began to pursue education, foremost among them psychology. Specifically, I was interested in if it was possible to repair the mental damage that lingered after intense trauma. I thought that maybe someone could one day erase the hatred of the Hunger Games without having to cease educating people about it; repair the damage of the past without risking making the same mistakes and maybe give me the ability to one day reclaim my name.

One day, shortly after my nineteenth birthday I was on the campus of Capitol University when I saw a flyer for a lecture that would be conducted the next night. It was titled, "Breaking Through the Darkness: Healing the Wounds of the Hunger Games." My jaw dropped as I saw the name of the guest speaker, a young undergraduate researcher from District 4 named Elizabeth Odair. I knew the last name, and I knew that I would be in attendance.

The next evening I filed with the rest of the attendees into the main lecture hall of the Psychology building and watched a woman walk toward the podium on the stage. She wore a very plain skirt and blouse, her red-hair was pulled back behind her head, and everything about her screamed academic, but I immediately saw past all that. All the way to something that was unlike anything I had ever seen. She began her lecture.

"By the time I finally met my aunt, Annie Odair, better known to Panem as Annie Cresta, Victor of the 70th Hunger Games, nearly twenty years had passed since her victory and almost ten years since the horror of the Capitol's retribution during the Revolution, but her mind was still trapped in the grip of her pain. However, with a lot of work and even more love, pain can be defeated…"

I sat enraptured for the next two hours as she explained the work she had done with Annie and related it to a variety of theories that I really did not understand. She was brilliant and beautiful, and I wanted to be close to her.

As soon as her closing remarks were over and the applause had begun, I leaped from my seat and ran to the base of the stage. She was surrounded by a group of senior professors who were stunned both by her youth and her work. I laid in wait with quiet patience just as if it was an ambush. I would not let her get away without at least talking to me. Finally, I made my move.

"Fantastic lecture. Just fantastic," I said throwing my hand in her path before she could leave.

"Thank You, It's something very personal to me," she said trying to sound polite.

"To me as well." I replied which struck her as odd.

"You're related to a Victor? Cause if so I'd love to interview you." She was always about business in those first few years.

"Not quite."

"Ah," Lizzy said raising her eyebrows. It was obvious that I was not the first male suitor who had tried the tactic of pretending to be interested in her work. The real difference with me was that I wasn't pretending. "Well, I'd love to stay and chat but I'm really quite famished as I haven't had anything to eat since this morning so I'd like to get back to my room…"

"Well, that's convenient. I know this incredible little bistro just a few blocks from here. Nice quiet little place that's perfect for chatting."

"Listen, you're really quite cute," she said in a patronizing tone, "almost too cute, and I really appreciate the fact that you just assume I'm single…"

"Are you?" This flusters her.

"That's not important!" She says slightly louder than she intended. "Look, it's nothing personal but I make it policy to not date fellow students. Things just get too complicated."

"Good thing I'm not a student here then. Listen, I'm not proposing marriage here, I just want to offer someone who obviously has an enormous amount of knowledge on a subject that I am very fascinated by a meal in exchange for answering a few of my questions."

She looks mildly interested now.

"Just dinner?"

"Just dinner."

"And all I have to do is answer a few questions about my theories."

"Plain and Simple."

She gives in.

"Well then, lead the way, Sir."

I'm ripped back into the present as the train lurches to a halt. I hadn't realized I had fallen asleep. I wipe a tiny bit of drool from my sleeve and rub the fatigue out of eyes. My watch says that it is after midnight, and outside of the window I see Capitol Station. I'm home.

I take a taxi from the Station back to my Apartment Block. Normally, I would choose public transportation, but its Saturday night and the busses and trains will be crammed with drunks on their way home from the nightclubs or a party. Not everything has changed here.

We pull up to the outside of my building and I grab my single black backpack. It was a short trip, but after what I accomplished everything feels different. Now Peeta and the Mockingjay know who I am, they know about my family, and they know about what's happening to the Sixteen.

On the elevator ride to the top floor, I come to the realization that now I really can't fail on my mission to find out who is doing this. If something happens to me, the Mellarks will have another loss thrust upon them from the Snow family, and that is something that I will not allow to happen.

It's nearly one o'clock in the morning when I step toward my front door. Two guards who I have left to protect Lizzy in my absence nod in acknowledgement as they see me round the corner from the elevator.

"Welcome Home, Colonel."

"Thank you. Speaking of Home, you're both relieved. Get out of here you've done a great job."

"Are you sure you don't prefer us to stay until morning?"

"No, go ahead," I say as I swipe my thumbprint over the plate on the door. The lock clicks open. "I'm going right to bed."

"Yes, Sir." The two disappear around the corner back toward the elevators.

I quietly open the door; sure that Lizzy is asleep by now. I told her not to wait up for me. I should have known that she wouldn't listen. I look across the living and dining rooms toward the huge plate glass window that looks over the Capitol Skyline. Her back is to me. Her long hair is down and she's wrapped up in a cream colored silk robe. I try to be sneaky but we both know that she's heard me come in. She still plays along.

I tiptoe up behind her and then wrap her up in arms from behind. I lean over and take a deep breath. She smells like the sea after a storm. The ocean must be in her blood.

"Hey you," Lizzy whispers back to me.

"Hey." I can tell she wants to ask me everything but is afraid to in case something has gone wrong. She remembers that she is the one who forced me into this. Finally, after a few seconds, I finally answer the questions she hasn't asked.

"I met them," I say trying not to reveal too much.

"What did they say?" I stare into her beautiful green eyes, the ones Katniss said look like Finnick's.

"I told them about you," I say slightly changing the subject. "Peeta and Katniss both say that you're part of their family." A single tear runs down Lizzy's face.

"They would say that wouldn't they?" she says grinning from ear to ear. Lizzy can't fight the urge anymore and leans forward to kiss me. Our lips meet and it's like being wrapped in a warm blanket again. After a few blissful seconds our lips part and she remembers the other half of my mission.

"What about you? Did they figure out who were or did you have to tell them?"

"They figured it out."

"And?"

"They both forgave me." She lets out a deep sigh of relief and wraps her arms around me again. I look back down into her eyes.

"You can finally put that part of your life to rest."

"Not at all. I still have to find out who's causing the disappearances. The other fourteen have to be avenged. Until then nothing has changed."

Lizzy knows how serious I am. She looks back into my eyes this time.

"You don't know that the others who disappeared are dead."

"If they're not, then they probably wish they were by this point."

"Then for them and for you, you must succeed."

"Of course I will," I reply with the smirk I only get when I'm talking to my wife. "It was a mission from the Mockingjay herself."