✦ Chapter 15: Communication is Key ✦
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ISLA MET MANY well established men during her next few days in the Capitol. Not much else has happened, although Peeta has begun to look rather sickly on television. His cheeks are hallow, his eyes blank. He speaks with a feeble voice, not much fight seems to be left within the blonde boy. Isla is sure Johanna must be dead if they're treating Peeta, their spokesperson, that badly. The girl would be no use to them alive, a waste of space to them. It would be easier to just put her out of her misery by now.
It worries Isla, as she hasn't found much use in prostituting herself to the men of the Capitol. She isn't being any help at all. If anything, so far, she's just fuelling the Capitol's side. She can't even help Peeta by stopping the torturing he's enduring. She has no say, and Snow has refused any of her requests to see the District Twelve victor. She has to sit idly by as he deteriorates right in front of the country.
Today, she's supposed to be meeting with a man by the name of Titus Griffith. Orion showed up after lunch to get her up to speed on her visit tonight. He often briefs her on who they are, what they do, and how to successfully satisfy them. Essentially what the men expect from her visit. Apparently, Titus is in charge of almost all of the communications systems throughout the country. He oversees the operations of District Five, and the entire system within the Capitol. He's extremely rich due to his title, and because of this, extremely important to President Snow.
Orion explained that without Titus, the rebels would be able to take over the Capitol's broadcasting systems with ease. "He's probably one of the most important men you'll meet." Orion had said. Which left Isla thinking if maybe this is her chance to make a difference. If she could kill Titus, the communications between all of the districts would be down until they at least found someone to take his place, someone with enough knowledge to get it back under control. Until then, the rebels would have free reign to air whatever they'd like, and intercept all communications between the Capitol officials.
Suddenly invigorated by her newfound mission, Isla prepares for her meeting tonight. She puts on her best clothes, one of the outfits Orion had suggested. It consists of a black dress and heels, nothing too flashy, as Orion said the man is rather reserved. He likes simple, elegant, and classy.
As the clock hits seven o'clock, she can hear the elevator door ding as it opens. She's met by peacekeepers, who are to escort her to her destination. She often has no idea where she's going, and the car windows are tinted the darkest shade possible, not allowing her to see the outside world.
The car ride is quiet as she sits in the back alone, blocked off from whoever drives the vehicle. She estimates the drive to be about fifteen minutes, as the car halts and she hears a door open in the front. Soon, her door is opened, allowing her to step out and into the cool, fresh air.
A mansion stares down at her, and the car has parked in the large looping driveway. A fountain sits in the centre, spraying water high into the air. It's one of, if not the, nicest places she's been so far. Orion wasn't lying when he said this man was an important asset to Snow. With this kind of money, he could fund a war for years.
The driver points to the front door, and Isla takes that as her cue to take over from here. As she approaches the door and readies to use the golden lion head knocker, the black car exits the driveway through a large black gate. The knocker connects with the dark wood of the door a few times, and then Isla can hear foot steps as they approach. She smooths her dress, and quickly tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear.
The door opens, revealing a man that heavily resembles President Snow in stature and intimidation. However, his hair is darker, and his face less wrinkled. He's still an older gentleman, a bit older than Haymitch. Isla decides the man must dye his hair to keep it from getting grey.
"Isla, it's nice to meet you. I'm Titus, please come in." He welcomes her inside, stepping to the side to allow her to walk through the doorway. He wears a pair of black suit trousers and a white button up shirt, matched with a black tie and dress shoes.
"Thank you, sir." Isla nods her head softly before taking in the large foyer. The ceiling is made of glass, allowing her to see the dusky sky overhead. A large staircase leads to an upper level, and two archways lead to separate wings of the large house to her right and left.
"Please, call me Titus. Come with me." He smiles at her, and leads her to the right wing of the mansion. She finds it interesting how calm he is, most of the men are nervous, even a little awkward. Then again, it's likely a bit nerve wracking inviting a killer into your home and trying to sleep with them for money. Titus must have been doing this for a long time to be so calm and collected as he is now. She wonders what past victors have walked these same hallways. Likely Cashmere, she was exceptionally pretty.
Isla is brought to an extravagant dining room, the table ridiculously long. However, Titus passes it, continuing on through the room and into the kitchen. A set of double doors opens to the back garden, and he leads her through them. Finally, a small table with two chairs appears amidst the flowers and greenery. It is lit up by lanterns that surround it, and a dinner is laid out already.
"May I?" The man asks, motioning to a chair. Isla nods with a small smile, sits in the chair, and Titus pushes it in for her. He sits in the chair opposite as she lays her napkin out on her lap.
"This is beautiful." She comments, and the man smiles a charming smile.
"Yes, well, I thought it would be nice to finally put the outdoor space to use. Such a large home and I haven't used half of it." He says, pouring them each a glass of rich, red wine.
"You live here alone?" Isla asks, hoping it isn't too intrusive to ask. Most of the men are rather secretive, as the majority have been married with families.
"I have a live-in chef from District Ten and a live-in housekeeper from District Eleven." Titus informs her.
"I wasn't aware you were able to hire people from the districts." Isla admits. She had never heard of that before. She knew that some peacekeepers came from District Two, and that some stylists may have come from District One, but never of anyone from an outlying district living in the Capitol.
Titus nods, cutting into his steak. "Well, it can be hard to find help in the city. Besides, with the right price, you can convince them to let you do almost anything."
Isla thinks about this for a moment. So, if he flashes the right amount of money at Snow, Snow let's him do almost anything. Even hiring citizens from the districts, which could be considered tilting the balance that Snow tries so hard to preserve. How ironic.
"That's very thoughtful of you, to give them such a nice place to live. I'm sure they're grateful." She says, eating her food.
"I would trust Kaya and Cray with my life. They've been very loyal to me for the last ten years."
Ten years. So this man isn't one to use and dispose of the district citizens. He'd saved them from their gruelling daily lives for the last ten years, given them food, clothes, shelter. Everything they could need, in exchange for their service and company. Isla feels herself beginning to respect Titus, as not many people in the Capitol would do the same.
Before she can say anything in response, a man comes walking out of the kitchen. He holds a bowl of salad, and places it between the two. He looks older, but happy and healthy. He flashes a smile before slightly bowing and heading back inside.
"Was that Cray?"
Titus nods. "Depending on the outcome of the impending war, I'll have to hire another chef soon, for him to teach, as he is nearing retirement. He can spend his retirement ensuring the new chef doesn't burn the house down." The man let's out a small chuckle, causing a similar reaction out of Isla.
"So you'll let him stay?" She asks.
"Yes, it wouldn't do him much good to send him back now." Isla nods in agreement. Very thoughtful of the man, as Cray would likely be sent home and worked to the grave despite his age.
"Please tell him that dinner is delicious, if we don't see him again." Isla smiles, feeling herself becoming increasingly comfortable in Titus' presence.
"He'll adore that. He's a big fan." Titus winks, causing Isla to blush. She hadn't considered that Cray would know who she is. Of course, they probably all watch the games together every year. Living in the city, and not District Eleven, has likely made him more receptive of the games.
"How sweet of him." Isla responds, finishing her food and allowing Titus to pour her another glass of wine.
"Tonight, I just want to have dinner. Get to know you. So far, you seem rather... unfazed by current events." He quirks an eyebrow, looking at her for a reaction.
"Well, I was left behind by people I considered friends. Of course, being from the districts, I want change. But, I can't do much to help, thanks to them leaving me behind. My side was chosen for me." She chooses her words carefully. It wouldn't be believable if she said she was completely on the Capitol's side from the beginning without reason, at least not after her reaction to Cray and Kaya. Saying she was essentially forced to choose the Capitol's side after being betrayed seems a bit more likely.
"Yes, I watched the games. It seemed clear to us, at least, that you were not playing the same game as some of your allies." Isla nodded at his words. At least Titus, Cray, and Kaya were able to see she had been left in the dark. She hadn't known the plan.
"I just wanted to get Finnick out, but clearly he had other plans." She says, looking down at her lap.
"It pained me when I heard word from the gamemakers of your plan. They told me about your individual assessment, how you didn't care about any of the others, even yourself. Just him. I really think you could've won if you had gone in with that mindset. But, then again, there wasn't going to be a winner thanks to the rebels."
"I don't have much to win for. I had a plan for revenge and that's all I wanted." Isla admits.
"Yes, Katniss. It's good for the rebels that you didn't kill her on that last night." Titus looks at her, his eyes coated with understanding.
"I guess you're right. That would've ruined their plans." Isla shrugs, not having thought about it. If she had killed her, would the rebels have called off their plans? Would the games have just went on until one victor remained?
"I think, if you were to want to help them, you could." His words almost startle her. She looks up at him with wide eyes.
"I don't- That wouldn't be a good idea." She tries to play it off. Could he be spying on her for Snow? Maybe he's trying to get information out of her so the President can intercept whatever she plans to do for the rebels. Maybe Orion snitched, and he's already aware?
"That's too bad, I think you'd be a great help to them. They have no one else on the inside. I was aware that Plutarch Heavensbee was not all he seemed to be, and I was probably the least surprised when it was discovered he was on the hovercraft that disappeared with Katniss, Finnick, and Beetee."
Isla stares at Titus for a long moment, trying to figure out what he could possibly be trying to achieve here. Snow had to of put him up to this. It's the only explanation. In an attempt to figure out where Isla's loyalties lie, Snow has convinced the men she's being forced to spend her time with to try and get any information out of her.
"Well, I live under the very watchful eye of President Snow, so I can't say I'm able to do much to aid the rebel cause." She sips her wine, meeting his eyes as she does so.
He clicks his tongue with a grin. "I could've guessed as much."
"I've never been as compliant as Enobaria. And I'm not as useful as Peeta right now. So I'm living in the tribute centre. It's not easy to get up to much when there's peacekeepers living with you. Not that I have much to get up to since I wasn't included in the rebel plan. I don't know anything, or anyone. I wouldn't be able to help even if I wanted to." Isla sighs, swirling the wine in her glass.
"Do you want to help? The rebels, I mean. Some of them were your friends, after all. I imagine trying to survive a fatal arena with someone makes you close?" Titus raises a brow, urging a response.
"I'm not sure what you consider a friend, but I don't think being left behind in a collapsing arena is the definition of friendship. I'd say that ship has sailed." Isla let's out a small chuckle, shaking her head. "I don't think they care much about me, at least not now, to have left me behind like that. It could've been a death sentence if Snow thought I actually had been part of their plan. I'm lucky I could prove otherwise."
"You're right. I'm sorry you were abandoned by them. As clear as it was that you and Katniss weren't exactly on friendly terms, it was still a surprise that Finnick of all people left without you." Titus frowns at her, looking at her with pity.
"A surprise for the both of us." She looks up at him, shrugging.
"I can't help but think that despite him leaving you in that arena, you'd still do anything for him." Titus stares at her now with a blank expression. He waits to see her reaction, but Isla keeps her composure, remembering the act she has to uphold. She can't let any of them see her fold.
"If he wanted me on his side, he could've at least had the decency to pick me up out of that arena instead of leaving me to die."
He studies Isla for a moment with a grin, deep in thought. She pretends she doesn't notice, eyeing the garden around her. She hates talking about Finnick and all that's happened. It causes her chest to clench in pain, and her throat to form a lump. The grin on his face eventually slowly falls, and Titus sips from his own glass. He shakes his head, sets it down, and makes to stand.
"Come with me."
Isla obeys, standing and following the man back inside. He leads her through long hallways, deep into the mansion. She examines the extravagant paintings as they walk for what seems like forever. This place is huge. She wonders where he must sleep.
Eventually, they come upon a door that's very much unlike the rest. It's made of steel, rather than the mahogany wood used to make the rest. It's dark and ominous, a clear contrast to the elegance of the rest of the house. A number pad sits above the metal door handle, a red light staring back at her. Whatever lies behind that door is extremely important to be locked away like this.
"What is this?" Isla asks Titus as he approaches the door. He doesn't speak, instead, he begins typing on the number pad. Isla thinks to give him privacy, to look away, but she doesn't. She watches each number being punched in from afar.
6-6-7-6-2-6
The red light blinks green now, and a click can be heard as the door is unlocked. He turns the handle slowly, and the large metal door seems heavy as he pushes it open. He stands to the side, a clear motion for her to enter the room. She does so, walking passed him and into the dark room.
A thousand little lights blink at her, various different colours and sizes. Titus flicks a switch, and an ominously dim light turns on. The light reveals several panels with buttons and switches, the source of all the little lights. The wall is lined with screens, all which turn on to reveal different electronic maps. They appear to be of the different districts, surrounding one large screen showing the Capitol.
Isla analyzes all that's in front of her. Certain parts of the maps blink, while others seem to pulse with lights as they form waves from one point to the other. It's as if something is moving from the Capitol to District Two, and from the President's mansion to a large building that appears to be the tribute centre. The waves move for a moment before they disappear into their destination, and more often than not, the waves eventually bounce back and return to their origin.
"Is this..." Isla asks, turning to look at the man beside her. It's impossible. For this to be right in front of her. It practically fell into her lap.
"This is the communication centre for the entire country."