We weren't just near the front lines, we were the front line. That line was getting close and closer to the heart of the Capitol. No wonder the remaining Capitol sharpshooters, including Regina's killer, were relatively thick here.

I recognized the Training Center skyscraper; thirteen floors was hardly the tallest building in the Capitol, but it still stood out compared to the shorter structures in its immediate vicinity. One of those was the President's mansion. It had a massive footprint, but was only a couple stories tall.

Refugees were everywhere in the streets, some even pouring into Snow's mansion. Broadcasts recycled the same tired old theme of the Capitol's generosity and mercy. However, the message was now intended for the city's own residents.

I suspected the real motivation was to provide human shields for Snow and other high ranking Capitol authorities. They were somewhere on the ground or below it – even if the Capitol had any hidden hovercraft left, our air force had orders to shoot them down on sight. As in District Two, carnage may be necessary now to prevent it in the future. I would not waver.

The Capitol's fearsome air defenses weren't so fearsome at ground level. Most of the gun and missile emplacements physically couldn't be angled low enough to shoot at ground troops. Heavy vehicles were perhaps vulnerable to repurposed air defenses, but the rebel ground forces had focused on straightforward infantry - partially for that reason, partially because it was much more feasible to transport soldiers without such gear. We had spent much of our time disabling exotic pods to clear the way for our fellow soldiers, but we also saw some action destroying the straightforward surface to air weapons to clear the way for our aircrews.

The crowds made it both easier and harder for us to move. We could hide amongst the group, but there would also be more people to notice us. When in that Capitol apartment the night of the 25th, we didn't only raid the beer fridge, but also the closets. This provided us with ordinary Capitol clothes, if anything in this city was ordinary, to disguise ourselves with at times. That seemed to be the apartment of a District Seven stylist, long since fled. Johanna had kicked the tree costumes a few times for good measure. About time the districts took something from the Capitol, I thought.

There were Peacekeeper squads guarding the entrances to Snow's mansion. They were from a special unit in black and brown uniforms instead of the standard white. The long walls of windows were relatively unobstructed. Even if we could shoot through them, that would obviously create more of a disturbance.

Especially with those Peacekeepers occupied directing refugees, we might be able to avoid notice until the glass cracked. Getting the glass to crack would be the problem.

Whoever wasn't trying to break it stood guard. The glass wouldn't budge after several of us made several attempts. We swung our rifle butts at the windows like clubs. I slammed my shoulder into one of the panes, and the other guys followed.

Eventually Cato realized something, getting out the box from the jeweler's shop. He said, "Isn't diamond the hardest thing in the world?"

"Yeah, there's gotta be something harder than this glass," I muttered in agreement. If we were back at base I would have said I thought that was you when you were alone with Glimmer, and we would have laughed loudly. However, we know damn well this was not the time or place.

He scraped the window with the stone, proof that we were right about the matter. He did this with the ring pinched between his thumb and forefinger. He could have fit it on his pinky, but then he never would have heard the end of it, assuming we survived to hear anything. I teased him anyway. "Ah, you scratched her ring."

"Don't worry, as glamorous as she is, she knows when not to be vain," Cato reminded us.

He slammed his shoulder against the new weak point and the window finally cracked. Cato fell through the window frame. The guards finally noticed the noise and we picked them off as they came to investigate. Our rifle butts hadn't been able to break the window, but they did work for knocking the shards out of the frame. Katniss noticed the blood on Cato's arm and said, "You want me to patch that up?"

"It's okay, I only fell through one plate glass window," he tossed off sarcastically.

"Boys," she muttered and Cashmere applauded. It didn't really remind her of Gloss, since he had never really been that kind of man, despite looking the part. I was like Cato in this – if Katniss was the one at home with a taste for luxury, I could have been the one who fell onto a red carpet now getting a bit redder. What if Catnip was the one eagerly expecting a child because of the way she loved her little sister? Well, even so, now that Catnip would have me, I still didn't want anyone else. The girl who had been by my side for years would be the woman by my side as long as we lived.

We walked Snow's hallways, and now saw the entrance from the inside. It was unguarded, now that its guards had unsuccessfully tried to head us off. I suspected that even now there would still be patrols of the key rooms. "We shall go find them," Lyme ordered, "before an escape or some other last ditch maneuver, before they conceal more evidence of the crimes they've committed against this country and its people."

Taking another look at the nearby entrance, I noticed several silver parachutes falling right outside it. Even little children know what sponsor gifts look like, and began to react accordingly. However, I saw that their payload was anything but. Firebombs I had designed with Beetee exploded over Snow's human shields.

I had thought of the bombs, but not the sick twist of the parachutes by which they were deployed. Coin was almost certainly directly behind this, which demonstrated thinking as depraved as the Capitol. I did what needed to be done, and had tolerated her before on that account, but this seemed wholly unnecessary. When I gave Beetee the idea for these bombs and he implemented it, we certainly hadn't thought of them being used against such targets, whatever the packaging.

Our upward sight blocked by the ceiling, I had no clue as to what hovercraft dropped it.

I saw a squad of rebel medics racing to the scene, noticed their unit number and frantically reached for the radio on my hip. "Soldier Hawthorne of 451 to CA42! Those bombs have a delayed second action! Evacuate!"

"Sarah Morgan confirming, let's get out of here!" The voice retained most of its discipline even in this chaos, and that voice continued with chilling words. "Everdeen, get back!" I glanced behind me and to the left. She's right here. Wait, what the? The double blonde braid and shirttail was unmistakable - it was Prim up there in the line of fire. Even at a distance, she caught much of the second burst of flame. Coin will have hell to pay and worse yet have to deal with Katniss. After our Games, which seemed like ages ago now, Katniss said that I didn't need to be forgiven for the Capitol's crimes. I hope I didn't need to be forgiven for Coin's crimes either.

Katniss sprinted down the hallway to the scene, mainly an act of worry but also a practical one – Prim's squadmates needed all the burn medicine they could get, and non-medics carried basic first-aid kits. I threw mine, and Katniss made a running one-handed catch. My squadmates sent theirs forward as well.

Only Finnick and Johanna remained in our immediate vicinity. Lyme had taken Cashmere, Sapphire, Brutus and Cato with her to start checking the rest of the mansion. That left me as the current officer of sorts. "Crouch down and be ready to provide guard fire," I barked.

The aftermath of the bombing coalesced into a grim portrait. In the foreground, Sarah leaned over Prim while Katniss rushed to her side. Some other medics were also tending to their fellows; one searched for the slim chance of survivors amongst the Capitol children.

Lyme led all four of her soldiers back, some dragging bodies that by their uniforms had clearly belonged to Snow's highest ranking officers. They had fought it out, if but with sidearm pistols, knowing death was their likely fate anyway. Cato and Brutus had the real prize, though, a certain man who wouldn't have been armed at all. We overheard our commander's report to headquarters. "President Coin, this is Commander Lyme. We have captured Snow alive." Alma was still the boss, as much as we abhorred it, until the bombing was sorted out.

Lyme passed along the response. "We are to execute him promptly."

A/N

Prim being wounded rather than killed in the bombing was one of the first scenes I wrote over a year ago, but I didn't get to that point in the story until now.