Tortured but Together (A Hunger Games Fanfiction) [UNDER EDITING]

Chapter Eighteen

A/N: Obligatory note that the Hunger Games characters belong to Suzanne Collins and not to me. With that said, hope you enjoy!

(President Coin POV)
(1 week later)
Two and a half months. Two and a half months since I lost my mockingjay to the Capitol and that monster of a man President Snow. It hasn't been easy, her family, and Soldier Hawthorn and Soldier O'Dair keep pestering me about getting her out of there. Tonight though, tonight we should be able to make some progress. I've gotten word from one of my most reliable spies from the Capitol that Everdeen should be on air tonight; that gives Beetee a perfect chance to hack into the system, and broadcast our message.

I just hope she'll listen. The Capitol can do weird things to people's minds. My main hope is just that they haven't broken her yet. With war looming on the horizon any day now, I won't have time to deal with an emotionally traumatized Mockingjay.

There's a knock at the door, and Beetee comes in in his wheelchair. Even though he's not as mobile as he used to be, at least the games didn't mess with his mind too much. "Did your intel from the Capitol manage to catch what time they'll be broadcasting?"

"Yes. 18:30 hours, or if you'd prefer, 6:30pm." Although I hope he'll use military time, after all, I am trying to build an army here. "Can you be ready by then?"

"18:30 hours...it might be a bit tight but I should be able to manage it."

"I'll need a yes or no answer Soldier Beetee." I say firmly.

"Yes. It will be ready. Permission to be dismissed to go work out the final touches?"

"Permission granted. You're dismissed soldier Beetee," I nod.

Once he leaves, I let out a long sigh. A lot is riding on tonight being a success. The message we're planning to send to Katniss is pretty simple. It'll start with her sister and her mother and Soldiers Hawthorn and O'Dair; I doubt she'd be willing to listen to me right off the bat. After all, her stubbornness was one of the main reasons I chose her as the face of my revolution.

A lot of my soldiers argued about my choice of Mockingjay after Everdeen's previous televised appearance, and, while I do see some obvious problems, I don't have anyone better. It wouldn't look good if I was the symbol of my movement as well as the leader, that would remind the districts too much of President Snow and the Capitol. My objective has to be to work smarter rather than harder, we may not yet have the numbers, but the people we do have are being used to further my goals as much as possible.

Things should get easier once I get my Mockingjay back; I have to keep telling myself that because a lot of these refugees from district 12 are either in no shape mentally or physically to serve as soldiers, and those who are have little to no military training and discipline. Building an army up from the ground with a war looming around the corner is no easy task, but I'm at least making some progress.

Walking over to the bullet proof and reinforced window, I look out at the training floor to observe, and I just shake my head. Barely any of the new soldiers from district 12 have even learned how to fire a gun. Maybe I'll make a speech tonight about how I can't afford to shelter freeloaders; hopefully that will help motivate at least some of them.

As I'm thinking of what to say right before we interrupt the Capitol broadcast, I hear a knock on my office door. I didn't schedule a meeting with anyone other than Soldier Beetee, and everyone else should either be in the infirmary either as a patient or a nurse or out on the training floor. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I open the door to my office.

On the other side of the door stands Primrose Everdeen, the sister of my Mockingjay. Of all the people I expected to see, she wasn't one of them. "What's your reason for being here," I ask rather sharply.

"I wanted to know what your plan was to rescue my sister. You asked me to wait, and I've been doing that for two months. This was enough time to plan to get the tributes out of the arena, so what's the plan this time around?" She doesn't exactly sound accusatory, more like the type of tone someone would use when they refuse to leave without answers.

"First we have to see what shape your sister is in, if she's totally defeated and broken there's nothing we can do to change that. This rebellion needs a motivational Mockingjay, not a traumatized one," I say rather coldly. Hopefully this will help her get the message that I'm not in the mood for visitors or distractions.

"That's my sister you're talking about! Why would you say something awful like that? I'd never even dream of threatening to leave your family to be tortured just because they weren't "useful enough!" There's some of her sister's temper shining through, maybe I should consider her for my replacement Mockingjay...

"You couldn't. There's nothing you could do to my family, they're dead. Take my advice Primrose Everdeen, don't get closer to people, it'll just make it harder for you when they die."

Tears spring to her eyes at that. "I thought you weren't that selfish. Or at least, I hoped you wouldn't be. Maybe you're not as different from President Snow as I thought!" Then, she has the nerve to walk away before I even dismiss her. That girl certainly will go places, but I'm not yet sure what those places will be. It will all depend on tonight; just about everything depends on tonight.

Shutting the door, I sit back down at the desk in my office. Whether or not I want to admit it, the younger Everdeen sister comparing me to President Snow hurt me in a way that few things can anymore. Much as I want to wreck or destroy something, resources are too precious to do that here. Maybe once I get control of Panem I'll be able to fill the gnawing ache that started consuming me when everyone I loved died; I can only hope.