After four very difficult hours, we manage to restore full power to Central Briefing. Slowly, the feeds begin pouring in from all over the country again. Almost all the messages are simply frantic requests for updates from the Capitol which the analysts begin to answer one by one.
President Holmes, General Sturm, Amelia, and I are soon joined by the Interim Chief of Special Defense.
"What is he doing here?" I ask as he stumbles into the room, knocking dust from his expensive District 1 suit. I never did like him much before I knew his name. Now, after finding out the truth about who he is, I hate him for one simple reason: Octavian will never be able to meet his Aunt Primrose.
"I've asked him to come from District 2 because I think as result of these attacks, it is necessary for Panem to have a complete Defensive Committee in place which is why I'd like to offer Mr. Hawthorne here the permanent position of Chief.
"Why Madam President," he says with a futile attempt to cover up his District 12 accent. "I would be honored."
"Mr. Gale Hawthorne, Great, I'd almost rather have Ohm back." When he first arrived at the Ministry not long after Rikard had deprived us of his lovely company, He automatically set me on edge with his politician's demeanor: never ceasing need to put on a show for everybody around him. It was almost like he was trying his hardest to keep something a secret. I like to pay attention to little details about people. It is usually those that tell you the most. He always wore the most expensive clothing he could find, drove a car that cost more than most people's houses, and he spent so much time in a salon having his hair and face groomed that I wondered if his reputation of enjoying the company of so many different ladies may be just a cover. But, then I saw his hands: rough, weathered, and abused. They were not the hands of a playboy, but the hands of someone who once lived by physical hardship and back-breaking labor. I then understood at least one of the things this man was hiding under a lot of money: he grew up starving and destitute. I knew I had seen his dark hair and olive face somewhere before, but it was not until President Holmes introduced him, that I realized he was Katniss' "cousin" from the Seventy-Fourth games. Luckily for me, Lizzy was able to fill me in on the full story before I stupidly uttered something to Peeta and Katniss about my new co-worker. The two of us have since agreed that we will keep it a secret as long as possible since both of them seem to be doing so well not thinking about him. Unfortunately, it will be a little harder at this point considering that he's now apparently going to be around awhile.
Besides the obvious, the other reason I can't stand the man is he seems to be the only person left in the Ministry these days that has not been able to get past my last name. Even though Lizzy has told me how hard things were for him, I don't really care. Somehow, I've managed to start using the word "Snow" as a way to avoid his company rather than any kind of personal shame or humiliation on my part. Call it a "step in the right direction" for me.
How Gale Hawthorne rose to the meteoric heights of the Panem Defense Industry is a story that I've been able to piece together from other sources, mostly owing to the fact I try to converse with him as little as possible. Of course, the tale begins right at the end of the Revolution. After being spurned by Katniss for the reason that Lizzy almost refused to tell me for fear that I would kill him (I almost did actually), Gale took a job as a Defense Industries Supervisor at the former Ohm Defense Works adjacent to "the Nut." Using his connections gained while fighting for the Rebels, Gale was soon one of the Board of Directors. However, despite his keen business sense and killer instincts, he still found himself unable to break to the top. It was not until he heard of Ohm's resurfacing with the design for the Reevox that he was able to put a plan into action. Backing Ohm's research with his own money, Ohm and Gale were able to make a fortune off the Reevox, mostly by Gale using his connections to negotiate a contract with the Ministry of Health for a guaranteed order of half a million units for Avox relief.
"How Noble…"
Using their new wealth, the two of them bought controlling shares of Ohm Defense, placing Rikard back as the public figurehead and Chief Designer, while Gale stayed on as Chief Financial Officer. Apparently, designing new weapons became just a hobby to him after that, until now, of course.
So, as he sits in the war room of Central Briefing, helping us to come up with a battle plan to find and destroy the man who made him rich, I have serious doubts about his sincerity.
"Are we sure that it was Rikard Ohm at all?" He says innocently.
"I'M PRETTY SURE!" I yell across the table to silence him. "The communicuff transmission I received just before the bombs went off was a pretty good hint."
For the first time, Gale actually looks in my direction and sees the Mockingjay pin on my uniform, now proudly displayed over the name "Snow" etched into a nametag I was able to salvage from my office on the level above. His eyes grow wide with suppressed rage as he instantly recognizes the pin of the one woman he was never able to have. I have to admit, this just is icing on the cake for me.
"Colonel Snow," he says deliberately trying to hide the fact that he's seething, "I was merely trying to ask if we have been able to authenticate the transmission you received."
"Captain Flagg?" I say turning towards Amelia.
"Well, the message structure was nearly identical to the communicuff message you received last year from him, and the voice print was a spot on match….for his Reevox collar."
"Which could have been copied on one of thousands of collars that Ohm industries has produced!"
"Why are you trying to defend him so much?" I ask sternly.
"That is a valid question, Mr. Hawthorne," General Sturm adds.
"Ohm is dead, I'm sure of it!" he shouts across the table to us both.
"And your opinion has nothing to do with the fact that you inherit Ohm's shares in the Company and his job here if he's dead…" I say rather tactlessly.
"That's enough, Colonel Snow. Please continue Mr. Hawthorne."
"Ah, Driva," I think. "Always the referee, even if it doesn't suit you."
"It just doesn't make sense to me that he could have been so wounded on the island last year and still survived long enough to plan and execute this incredibly intricate bombing attack…"
"Unless he had help," I say bluntly.
"That is the question, isn't it?" President Holmes declares just before her communicuff beeps. She presses the button and exchanges a few phrases with the speaker on the other end. "General," she says to Sturm, "It's the Speaker of the Legislature. He wants us to update him with the latest information we have." She turns to the rest of us. "Captain Flagg, we'll need your notes," she turns back to me and Gale, "If you gentlemen will excuse us for a few minutes."
"Of course, Madam President," he says with his sycophantic wine.
"God, I hate him." I don't want to be alone with him at the table, so I head to the kitchenette at the far side of the Central Briefing. "Oh, if the bombs destroyed the coffee maker, then I'll be really pissed off, Rikard." Thankfully, the machine is intact and after a few seconds of fumbling, I'm able to get it brewing. Shortly before I'm about to enjoy the first of many steaming cups, a hand grabs my shoulder and spins me around. Gale grabs my collars and puts his face down in mine.
"How do you know Katniss Everdeen, Snow?" I am definitely not in the mood for this; especially the way he said "Snow" like he was speaking to some kind of dog. I grab his right wrist, twist in just the right way, and send him down to his knees writhing in pain.
"I think you mean Katniss Mellark, Hawthorne. Don't worry, I made that same mistake too when I first met her." He is still immobilized, his face twisted in agony. "She actually happens to be a good friend of my wife and me. We were actually enjoying the Mellark's fine hospitality when this little show of your previous employer kicked off. Man, Peeta can sure grill some venison. Do you remember the taste of venison from District 12 or has it faded after years of eating prime District 10 steak every night?"
"Let me go, Snow!"
"Ok, but here's your one warning: touch me again, and you won't get your hand back. Understand?" He manages a nod and I throw away his arm like it was rubbish.
He doesn't bother getting to his feet.
"Have you told Katniss about us working together?"
"No," I say shaking my head. "The topic of you hasn't really come up a lot," I say sarcastically.
"Well, has she at least told you about how I saved Annie's life when she was trapped in a Capitol Prison?"
"No, but Lizzy has, and I am grateful to you for that, but she also mentioned one more thing that kinda gets in the way…"
"And what is that?" he spits back at angrily.
"Lizzy also told me what really happened to Katniss' little sister, Prim…" That struck a nerve. Gale sinks down onto the linoleum as I grab a hot cup from the coffeemaker and head back to Central Briefing.
"Where have you been, Colonel?" President Holmes asks. She, Sturm, and Amelia have all returned to the table.
"Just grabbing a cup of coffee, Madame President. Is this a new brand? Tastes delicious," I say taking a slow sip on my mug. Gale stumbles out of the kitchenette in a daze holding his wrist. He collapses back into his seat and stares off into space.
"I'm not sure, Colonel Snow….." Holmes says staring at me suspiciously. "But I'm afraid we have more important things to worry about right now than how your coffee tastes."
"Of course, let's get back to business."
At that moment the incoming transmission alarm sounds. Another junior analyst comes running over and hands Amelia a sheet of paper.
"This isn't possible."
"What is it, Captain Flagg," Sturm asks.
"We're receiving a live broadcast over….the L-Band Network."
"But the L-Band is only used by the…." President Holmes doesn't have the chance to finish her sentence before an image appears from the static on the large screen behind us.
"Well, Mr. Hawthorne," Holmes says to Gale who is still looking down at the table in a daze. "Looks like your theory about Rikard Ohm being dead was incorrect."
"Why do you say that, Madame President?" he asks.
"Because there he is behind you…" I say trailing off. Gale turns around to see the forty foot tall image of Rikard Ohm towering above him. Ohm is dressed in a new white jumpsuit, his hair is neatly combed, and a shiny new chrome Reevox collar adorns his neck. I look over and see his entire right arm has been replaced by a white plastic prosthetic.
"Well, Rikard, looks like you've come a little bit closer to being one of your beloved machines…"
The camera pans back, revealing that Ohm is standing on a polished, white marble balcony overlooking a square filled with thousands of people, dressed in similar white jumpsuits. To our horror, everyone in Central Briefing now knows exactly where Ohm has been hiding the last year…and who his new friends apparently are.
His new artificial voice begins to speak into a microphone, blasting his words both to the crowd below and across the ocean to us here.
"Good morning to you all hear with me, and Good evening to the People of Panem watching on their televisions."
"What?" Presidents Holmes exclaims.
"I'm sorry, Madam President," Amelia says sadly. "His carrier wave is taking over the national broadcast network, we're trying to push him out, but right now there's nothing we can do."
Ohm continues.
"I'm speaking to you live from Germania, Capitol of the Trans-European Commonwealth…"