Our Love Could Be Lethal Act I Re-Write

Act I: Rebel Buster

"Everyone pay attention because this is the first and probably only time, we will all be gathered in the same room together. Now look around, memorize these faces. They're the only ones you can rely on to get you out of a tricky situation. Every single member of this team has been handpicked and vetted by me for your dedication, unique set of skills, contacts, and discretion. If you're having trouble during an operation, find another one of these faces. To keep this operation intact, you answer to no one but me—there is not an order above my word. Understood?"

We all nod. I don't think anyone in the room is stupid enough to cross Plutarch. Well, maybe me—sometimes I'm really stupid. Like today when I mentioned Forsythe's cards.

"If anyone asks you about this operation you report them directly to me and they will be dealt with accordingly." He pauses before adding, "And similarly, if I find anyone has...informed another party about what we do here, they'll also be dealt with. Dismissed."

Once the group starts to disperse, Plutarch waves me over. "Octavia, I'd like to debrief you first." He continues to click things on his tablet without looking up at me as he says, "You did a fine job—you connected with your targets which made them open up, and you found something to incriminate them both with the money laundering. Next time maybe try not to anger the new head of Capitol TV, but we can work on that next time."

He turns back to his desk, apparently finished with the conversation and my brow furrows in confusion. That can't be it, can it? "Wait, don't you need my statement or something? For actual proof?"

"We have enough proof with your recordings, especially when we synchronize it with the camera footage in the room. Forsythe was smart to talk to you in the greenery room, the cameras are still being installed there from the reno, but the audio was more than enough for me."

"The audio?" I ask, eyes growing widely. "Poppy said," and I realize it then and there where I made my mistake, "that she couldn't source an earring..."

Betrayal. Though can it really be that when you have only known someone for a few hours? No, it was idiocy, naivety on my part. Again Octavia? I scold myself. Stupid, stupid girl.

"That's true," says Plutarch. "However, there was a listening device sewn into the neckline of your dress. The audio is nowhere near as crisp as I'd like it to be, but we made do on such a short timeframe."

I give Poppy a death glare from across the room and she merely steels her face and looks away. I'm mortified that the Peacekeepers heard my conversation with Forsythe, talking about my parents. I don't want them to know how weak and vulnerable I really am. And I hate Poppy for putting me in that position.

Plutarch senses the tension and says, "Now if you don't mind, I'd just like to have a word with Crysana," before leaving to the other side of the suite to go and speak to her. I'm sure he wants her to fill him in on all the gossip she knows.

Immediately I start to strip in the middle of the room, though I'm glad this outfit at least left me with undergarments on, tossing the leathery dress to the side as soon as I'm free of it. Aleksander wordlessly hands me a hotel robe to wrap around myself.

Poppy approaches me much to my dismay, and I can feel Aleksander tense as well. "I was concerned if you knew the mics were on you wouldn't act yourself."

I scoff. "Like that would've made a difference. Some people out here Poppy, some of us don't have the luxury of being protected when we speak our minds."

"And you think I do?"

All my frustrations with the Capitolians, all the holding back, comes out at once, all directed at Poppy. "This thing goes south, you're the first one I throw under the bus, mark my words."