Blaine Abernathy: A Canary Caged.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Game
Chapter 65: First Mission
Blaine's POV
My hand made contact with a human replica punching bag. I focused all my energy on punching its head by doing uppercuts, hooks, overhands, and jabs. Sometimes, I would include an additional kick. Cleo stood next to me to see how I moved; sometimes, she'd stop to make corrections. She thought my body had progressed from basic exercises to agility. She considered adding muscle growth with combat. We're focusing on a dummy before going to actual combat. However, Acre and Jason argue about who the best fighter is.
"Not again," Cleo sighed.
"Boys will be boys," I told her, grabbing a water bottle and taking a sip.
"Oh, you think you're better than me?" Jason asked, walking on the mat and putting on a boxing glove.
"I killed four people, two of them were Careers," Acre informed.
"C'mon, Acre, show me what you got." Jason taunted, patting his boxing gloves together.
"Alright," Acre sighed, walking onto the mat and wearing his gloves.
"You sure about that?" Jason taunted. "Have you ever taken a class?"
"In what?" Acre asked.
"Boxing," Jason snorted.
Oh dear, I mentally sighed, sitting on the far end of the mat while others in the gym did the same. Sometimes, I think Jason never watched Acre's Game, let alone see the recaps. Acre laughed sarcastically, unimpressed, and gave a warning straight punch, which Jason avoided. The insurgent fooled around, making strange dancing moves while speaking in movie dialogue. The victor raised a brow, wondering if he was in an advanced secret unit until Jason finally made a few cross punches. The glove blocked each punch, although Acre wasn't putting in too much effort. In fact, he looked kinda bored…until Jason got him in the head.
"Not bad, Goat," Acre complimented.
"Ever learned how to box in the Games?" Jason asked, keeping his hands near his face, bouncing on the heels of his feet.
"No, the trainers didn't teach boxing," Acre answered.
"Then it's your loss," Jason laughed, doing another uppercut, which Acre dodged going under, grabbed Jason's arm and punched him in the abdomen, afterward flung him overhead, landing hard on his back. Jason groaned, about to be up, only to be punched in the face. Acre then knelt down, pinning Jason while keeping an arm in the air at mid-paused. Jason gulped, surprised to be beaten by Acre.
"They teach fighting," Acre said.
"Easy there, you two," Cleo injected. "Save the actual fighting on the battlefront."
Acre shrugged, stepping back like it was nothing. The victor wasn't a huge fan of fighting for pleasure like Jason. He suffered a lot in the arena, seeing younger tributes die and focusing his kills on Careers. The first tribute he killed was an accident, well, more like self-defense when he charged to the Cornucopia to fetch a weapon and backpack. Swung his sword, slicing the girl's chest. The following two were Careers during the final eight on the hunt. They found him, and he killed the boy from District Two with his sword and snapped the girl from District Four's neck.
Regarding the final two of District Three and Acre, Acre hesitated. The guy personally went inside Acre's head, talking about his family and friends and how they would feel to have a killer home. Acre snapped and pinned him to the ground, punching him until the tribute cannon fired.
"Want to give it a shot?" Jason asked.
"Do you want to sing?" I replied back.
"Hah!" Jason laughed. "You think you can beat me by singing?"
I looked at Cleo for permission, to which she nodded. So, getting up and wiping the invisible dust off me before walking on the mat, I said, "I can beat you by singing with my back turned."
"Whatever, Blaine," he snickered.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, waiting for him to grab me. Jason wrapped his arms around my shoulder and waist, leaving my arms open. Instantly grabbing my hands together, I elbowed him in the Solar plexus, next In-steppingon his foot (practically stomping on his toe), then jumped up to elbow him in the Nose and afterward a backward punch on his Groin. In less than ten seconds, Jason was on the ground, groaning in pain while holding his proud jewels. Anybody who watched the match winced at each sensitive body part being injured.
I smirked, almost chuckling, before walking back to Cleo, who was laughing up a storm while Acre muttered. "He got owned."
"Where did you learn that?" Cleo asked.
"Haymitch," I answered.
"Wait, the drunk taught you how to fight?" Acre asked.
"Yeah, I sorta grew up learning combat." I sighed.
"Jason, Cleo, and Blaine," Varick called out from the door. "Office now!"
Immediately, Jason was back on his feet, as if he hadn't been beaten by a girl, smiling defiantly. Cleo nodded, walking towards Varick while I followed the two towards Varick's office, unsure why. Usually, Varick would call Cleo and Jason for a mission, but he doesn't include the victors. I looked over my shoulder to see Acre also holding a suspicious expression. Something wasn't right.
When we got to Varick, he advised us to take a seat. "Simon contacted us and announced that President Snow would attend a charity event to fund the peacekeepers for this war."
"Are we doing an assassination?" Jason asked, a glint in his eyes.
"No, this shall be a compromise." Varick scolded, giving Jason a warning look. "Hacker locked on the Rebels' intention for Everdeen has been confirmed. She'll make an appearance as a Mockingjay. I worry for the victors who are under Snow's custody."
"What are you planning?" Cleo asked.
"A trade of silence," Varick answered. "Blaine shall go to the charity and make a deal with Snow, in which she'll remain silent and disappear from Panem instead of going to the media. In exchange for immunity and custody of Peeta, Johanna, and Annie."
"What about Enobaria?" I asked.
"Enobaria has been released and has returned home to District 2," Varick answered. "Lyme is monitoring her in case the rebels intend to terminate her."
"Is Blaine even stable enough to go out on the field?" Jason asked.
I took a deep breath, keeping my composure. It was not about the mission. It was about confronting President Snow. The last time I saw President Snow in his office was when he injected me with a serum while trying to get information from Cinna. He allowed Damon to torture me.
"She kicked your ass in ten seconds." Cleo reminded Jason.
Varick smirked between the two before turning his attention to his computer. "Medical evaluation: stable. Physical evaluation: pass. Psychological evaluation: nightmares and P.T.S.D. indicated."
"Pathological rejection of authority-" Jason started, which he got smacked by Cleo hard, behind the head.
"Blaine is stable for a simple ambassador mission." Varick sighed, irritated by Jason's jokes. "And she'll not be alone. Jason, you shall be on the premises with a sniper rifle, watching closely. Cleo and Blaine, you two will attend the charity as Simons dates. Once you're inside, Blaine shall break away to hide from the crowd and get Snow in private to make the deal. If Snow doesn't cooperate, we shall threaten his granddaughter's life, where Jason shall aim at the target."
"No!" I objected. "Leave Ceres out of this."
"I'm not gonna shoot a kid, Blaine," Jason assured. "I'll probably shoot the nanny or bodyguard."
"And the message shall be given," Varick added. "This is very important."
"And what if he doesn't agree?" I asked.
"Then the media will have the biggest scoop of the decade."
.o0o.
The rest of the day has been makeovers and freshening up on details. Quinn and Miya helped out in getting Cleo and my hair and makeup done. Cleo put on a wig of mixed colors of blond being twisted around while my hair was constantly groomed to perfection of soft curls. I hated my hair, as it was still permanently dyed and altered. Maybe after this mission, I'll cut it.
Anyway, the makeover continued, turning our skin to glowing silk and painting nails silver for Simon's signature color: white, gray, and silver. However, when it came to makeup, everyone was hesitant about applying eyeshadow and eyeliner on me…on my left eye. I told them not to bother since I'd wear the scope. It was a relief as they applied soft eyeshadow on my right eye with black eyeliner, rouge cheeks, and full red lips.
When Cinna entered the room with what I suspected was our dresses. One was a pure black evening gown. It had an asymmetrical neckline pulling up into a single long sleeve. When Cleo put it on, it fitted perfectly around her bodice and natural waistline while a slip reached her top thigh. She looks absolutely elegant; you would never have thought she was once a peacekeeper. Cinna gave me a look that read that the other dress was something special. I returned the smile, getting up; Quinn suggested everybody leave before I unrobed. Instantly, they were out of the dressing room.
"They were in a hurry," Cinna said.
"I wonder why?" I sarcastically replied. .
"Close your eyes," he ordered.
I scoffed, following his orders, feeling the chiffon as he slid me into the gown. There was beading; I could tell by the slight weight of the skirt, but it wasn't like Katniss's forty-pound jewel dress. Many thoughts run through my head, trying to figure out the design. So far, it was a strapless evening gown with a sweetheart neckline.
"Can I see?" I asked.
"Yes," Cinna murmured as he kissed my shoulder.
The woman standing before me in the full-length mirror was somebody entirely different than who I was. The dress was beautiful; the crisscross ruched bodice was decorated in draping fabric of chiffon over the design as it slide over the delicate silver beaded embellishments lace floor length skirt, along with a strand over the bust area. She looked sophisticated and formal, not overly done…except the scope ruined the look. I sighed, closing my eye sadly.
"It's beautiful," I said.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"It's nothing, you outdid yourself," I assure.
"Blaine," Cinna murmured, tucking a finger under my chin, forcing it to face him.
I sighed, looking him in the eye. "I just think I'm not worthy to wear such beauty, let alone…"
"Nonsense," he said with a smile. "I made this dress specifically for you to amplify your true beauty. You're wearing the dress…the dress is not wearing you."
"Why are you so wonderful?" I asked, feeling my bottom lip quiver.
"Because I fell in love," he answered, leaning down. He kissed me on the lips. When he pulled back, he sighed disappointedly. "I wish I could come with you."
"Cinna," I breathed.
"No," he disagreed. "Some people don't stop to think how I feel if I lost you. You have no idea how much you mean to me, Blaine."
I smiled sadly, knowing what he meant. Unable to speak, I hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go. If this war ends and we survive, we can live anywhere. When I pulled back, I kissed his cheek.
"People don't understand us," I whispered. "But we are not like other people."
He sighed, unsure what to say, until Quinn knocked on the door, telling him it was time to leave. Although neither wanted me to go, Cinna offered his arm and escorted me to the garage, where a limo waited. Before I got in, I squeezed his hand tight, reassuring him I'd be back.
.o0o.
The Charity ball was held outside the President's Mansion in the rose garden. Countless rose bushes were blooming with the genetically altered white flowers, fragrance in their unnatural scent. The balcony was decorated with ice sculptures where the buffet was kept, and gazebos all around for guests to mingle, while the center of the rose garden lay a dance floor. Getting to the banquet was easy, and the paparazzi hardly paid attention to Simon, Cleo, and me, just walking in. Once inside, Cleo and Simon walked around the main event while I walked on the other side of the rose bushes, keeping a sharp lookout for President Snow and Damon. Jason stood his position on the roof of another building, sniper rifle aimed at Cere's room, which the young girl, a nanny, and a security guard occupied.
"Alright, let's check our commune-"Hacker's voice could be heard through the communicators.
"Argonaut, on standby," Jason called out.
"Niles reporting," Cleo replied.
"Owl here," Simon tested.
I touched my ear where the communicator was, "Canary."
"Don't touch your ear," Jason muttered. Instantly, my hand went down. "I've got eyes on the target, a few exits, and lots of blind spots."
"I've got them covered," I said, walking around the banquet, acting natural while grabbing a champagne glass, pretending my interest was in the statues or fountains.
"All right," Varick spoke out. "All cameras are in control; give us a moment, and we will find Snow."
"You look beautiful in that dress," Simon said aloud to Cleo.
"You don't scrub up so bad yourself." Cleo complimented.
"Save the flirting for another party," Jason gagged.
"Of Jason, are you jealous that you don't have two ladies on your shoulders?" I teased.
"Enough," Hacker muttered.
"Since Jason hasn't responded, I assume you bruised his ego again." Cleo chuckled.
"S.I.N.G," I spelled in a singsong voice.
"Until next time," Jason muttered.
"Seriously, I spend my shares with the Jays, and you three act like a bunch of children." Simon declared.
"Love you too, Simon." I cooed.
President Snow sat on a marble bench under the shadows of the rose bushes. He held a glass of champagne, though his appearance seemed uncomfortable, how he coughed into a handkerchief. The mouth sores are probably blistering again. I whispered aloud, "Target found," Jason replied that he had me covered from his station. I smirked, walking towards him, plucking a chocolate dip strawberry off the Avox tray before sitting next to the President.
"President Coriolanus Snow at a charity ball?" I murmured.
My dauntless behavior and surprised appearance actually baffled the older man. "Where the hell have you been?"
"Enjoying death," I murmured, taking a sip of champagne. "Canary reporting for duty."
"If you were alive all this time, why didn't you report?" he asked, keeping his attention on the ball.
"You didn't get my letter?" I sarcastically asked. "Oh, wait, it appears I no longer have a home address. . . Even before the war, you never attended to these things."
I bit into the strawberry.
"Proceeds go to the titanic spread," President Snow explained. "It's not about the charity, but publicity in convincing the Capitol all is well."
"I feel sorry for the bastards who planned this event." I sighed in pity.
"Actually, this is my party, Miss Abernathy." He corrected me.
"Oh, learn somethin' new each day."
"And the proceeds shall go to our military."
"Paying for your own war?"
"I have invested to restore order to the country."
"Sometimes investments don't pay off in a fire sale."
"Why are you truly here?" he asked. "Why not stay dead? You have the perfect way out. Go and live quietly somewhere. Not many individuals get to leave this cleanly."
"I have some scores to settle with you, sir." As I turn my head some to show him the scope. "Personal scores."
"Are you expecting an apology?" he asked, turning his head to face me, not fazed by the scope I wore. "You know the rules of the game. You've been playing it long enough. We both have."
"Maybe too long for you," I hissed.
"Cinna didn't make it, did he?" Snow asked.
"No." I choked, acting like he died in the bomb. "This is it. We both played out."
"Well, if you believe that, why did you come back?"
"To negotiate," I answered, tossing the strawberry stem on the grass. "You see, if we don't compromise, I shall remove my mask and walk center stage. You know what'll happen next."
"You would outrage the media and expose all my secrets." He concluded casually.
"Apathy is a better expression for you, sir." I chuckled. "And don't bother calling security. I have powerful friends who can intervene in your orders... Let alone sweet Ceres being watched by a sniper as we speak. Don't cooperate, and somebody is bound to get hurt."
"You're with the rebels."
I scoffed, "They wish. Unfortunately, I'm declared dead. My friends and I agree to your message through Peeta on a cease-fire, except we have other plans for the government. But my visit isn't about politics."
President Snow became quiet for a moment, absorbing all the information. The jammer programmed in my bracelet blocked all wiring on his person or the gardens so the Capitol Guard wouldn't listen to our conversation. I didn't want Ceres to be involved in this establishment, which Jason has aimed at the nanny or bodyguard in the girl's room, waiting for orders from Varick while Cleo and Simon listened to the conversation. If everything goes according to plan, then nobody will be killed.
"I'm listening," he murmured.
"Immunity," I started repeating everything Varick told me in my own words. "My friends and I get immunity from the war if you win. Second, you diminished the victor's purge and all of the survivors; your only loophole is that if they are on the rebels… attacking the battleground. And finally, I want Johanna, Annie, and Peeta alive. Once you give them to me, we shall disappear and hold no part in the war. Do we have an agreement?"
"Before I agree to this contract, where shall you go?" Snow asked, intrigued. His tight lips curve into a smile, his altered face of wasted money as his snake eyes burn passionately.
"The place where you kept your tyrannical power in the shadows," I answered calmly, looking deep into his eyes. The smell of blood could be noticed, causing my stomach to churn, near nauseas.
"I know you won't shoot a child," Snow murmured, sitting back straight, plucking a rose from the nearest bush. "To tell you, Blaine, you had me convinced. My advisors were concerned the Insurgents would be difficult, but you're not planning to be difficult. You're trying to be reasonable. I thought we had agreed not to lie to each other." He took a pair of clippers from his pocket and started cutting the stem and thorns. "Here's my proposition, if you and the Insurgents surrender and give me your full support, I shall give you all a presidential pardon…in exchange for your Intel and fight against Thirteen. As for you, Blaine, I'll know a few people who can get you an eye and return your friends. If you exchange vows with Augusta?"
"What's this, another arranged marriage?" I sneered. "Last time, you killed my intended."
"Call it a compromise," President Snow suggested. "Including the antidote. I'm sure the simulations are taxing. Consider it a fresh start?"
"There's no fresh start in today's society," I ground out.
"Everyone has a choice. His life and his character are determined by the choices he makes. You have options."
"Is that your poetic license towards your knights?" I asked sarcastically.
"Only in those of the Circle," he answered.
I hesitated, unsure what to say, while waiting for a response from anybody on the communicator. However, it was silent on the other end. President Snow handed me the rose, tracing his calloused fingers against my hand. "I miss you, Blaine. I really do. You had the most adaptable instincts of any woman I've ever seen. No matter the situation or how desperate you are, you always finish the job. What was your motto?"
"Sometimes you have to lose in order to survive," I whispered, gazing into the white petals.
"Abort the mission," Varick ordered irritably in the communicator. "He's not going to cooperate."
I sighed dramatically in defeat. President Snow smirked, offering his hand to sign off on the deal. I took his hand, but I squeezed his hand hard while leaning closer to whisper in his ear: "There's a storm coming, President Snow. You and the Capitol better batten down the hatches because when it hits, you're gonna wonder how you ever thought you could live so large and leave so little for the rest of us."
With that said, I dropped the rose on the ground and stomped on it, crushing the white petals until they were nothing. Afterward, I bowed before leaving. As I departed, I heard Snow say, "You sound like you're looking forward to it."
I stopped and looked over my shoulder, "I'm adaptable."
And then there was a gunshot.
I hope you like this chapter.
This chapter was inspired by N.C.I.S., Nikita, The Dark Knight Rises, Skyfall, and such.
Thanks for reading, and please review. Reviews make the chapter come even faster.