Finnick had never truly supported the Rebellion or actively done anything to aid them in their fight ever since they made the decision to abandon Dahlia in the arena. He never went against them but he also refused to help the people who had left her to rot in the hands of Snow and the Capitol. But as soon as he heard the news that a team was being mobilised to rescue the Victors, all of the Victors, he was ready to assist in any way he could. President Coin refused his request to join the volunteers, but explained that he could be of use some other way. He accepted before the woman could finish her sentence. Anything to get Dahlia back.
He made his way to the surface of District Thirteen with the camera crew, finally ready to share his story with Panem and reunite with Dahlia. Though these were the actions of a desperate man, he still felt the pang of nerves flood his body at what he was about to reveal. As he clambered down the rocky rubble, he paused in his step and pondered whether this was the right decision. He had barely admitted the truth to himself, and now he was airing out all the trauma Snow had put him through. Not just him, but Dahlia as well.
"Okay, Finnick?" Cressida asked sympathetically, noticing the hesitation and anxiety on his face.
"Yeah." He nodded quickly, determined to go through with this plan no matter how uncomfortable he felt. He needed to do this. For all the Victors who suffered by Snow's hand. For himself. And most importantly, for Dahlia.
"Go in the centre there." Cressida instructed him gently, pointing out where she wanted him to go. Finnick strode down into the crater of white roses, faltering slightly as he spotted the black dahlia in the centre. "Those rocks." She specified and Finnick wasted no time scooping up the flower as he continued past. Cressida turned to her team and began handing out orders, "Castor, to the left. Pollux, you're with me."
Finnick climbed onto the rock with his eyes fixated on the dahlia. It looked almost identical to the hair piece that had landed at his feet all those years ago. The reason he had strayed from his path in the first place, the reason he had met his Dahlia. Now it would be his motivation to get her back.
"So we'll go straight to camera. Okay?" Cressida announced before turning to find Finnick's gaze focused downwards. "Finnick?"
"Yeah." He muttered in acknowledgement, snapping out of his memories as he prepares to unveil the truth.
"Okay." Cressida murmured softly as Finnick cleared his throat. "Take your time. Just remember to keep talking and don't stop."
Taking a deep breath in, he reminded himself one more time of why he is doing this. Remember who you're fighting for, his own advice to her rang in his head. I'm fighting for you, little flower. Come back to me.
"This is Finnick Odair."
•——————•°•✿•°•——————•
The rescue team had successfully infiltrated the Capitol, knocking out the guards with gas and dropping in under the cover of night. As they approached the ominous iron double doors, Gale felt a sudden chill travel down his spine, like an animal sensing danger nearby. His breathing and heart rate picked up as Boggs activated another gas canister and deposited it discreetly into the mysterious room. The two men made eye contact in the darkness, both realising how easy and seamless this mission had gone so far. Like the Capitol had just left the doors wide open for the rebels to walk right in. And something didn't feel right about it.
"Gale." The Commander remarked quietly, waiting for the boy to indicate his acknowledgement of the plan. Gale bobbed his head once in answer and the two soldiers sprung into action.
Thrusting the doors open, they led their team into the room with their guns raised defensively. There was no sign of life inside, just the attributes of a large laboratory. The red glares from their torches illuminated the sinister instruments and tools, the uses of which they hoped to never discover. Vials of unknown chemicals and liquids lined up neatly in a row, half-filled needles and syringes scattered nearby. It seemed like someone had left in a hurry.
In a separate chamber of the room, Gale's breath hitched at the sight of a metal chair with solid cuffs secured on both the arms and legs of the seat. A large mechanical beast loomed above it with claw-like panels protruding from the back of the chair, snaking around to the front where a person's head might rest. The whole thing was connected to a console with dials measuring the shocks of electricity that would be pulsed into it. The mere thought of whoever had to endure that torture was horrifying enough for the man. Who knew what the repercussions of that device would have?
"What is this place?" Gale asked in concern, his voice muffled by the mask covering his face and protecting him from the gas.
No one answered him, for no one knew the answer. But whatever this room was used for, nothing good ever came out of it.
As Boggs slowly advanced through the room, he spotted a figure in his peripheral vision moving quickly through the shadows. However, by the time he'd whipped round to catch them in the torchlight, they were gone. He rotated in circles, squinting his eyes to try and identify any more movements in the room. But there was nothing.
"Hey," He called out softly to Gale, who was closest to him as they ventured further. "There's someone else here." No sooner had those words left his lips, than a surprised grunt was heard in the darkness. Guns were immediately aimed in the direction of the sound, but all they found was one of their fellow soldiers doubled over on his hands and knees. "What happened?"
"I-- I don't know... It moved so quickly." The soldier managed to gasp out as he stumbled ungracefully back to his feet.
Gale exclaimed in fright as he felt something brush behind him, like his own shadow stalking his every move through the darkness. He swivelled round to aim his gun at the culprit but saw nothing more than lab equipment and empty tables. "Wha--" He started to ask but was cut off as a force from behind sent him flying forward to crash into one of the tables. Groaning out in pain, he regained his grip on the gun and steadied himself. "What was that?"
The soldiers were on edge at the seemingly invisible onslaught they were being bombarded with. Were they being attacked by ghosts?
"Does anyone see it?" One of the soldiers yelled out frantically, brandishing their gun as the team huddled closer together. More panicked shouts are wailed out in reply as paranoia sinks in, some fearfully beginning to flail around for their fellow soldiers. However, just as they were regrouping and locating each other in the darkness, the lights were switched on.
As their earpieces whined with a high-pitched screech and their eyes became temporarily blinded by the sudden influx of light, they failed to notice the dominant stance of an imposing figure blocking their path. The soldiers struggled to recover but once they did, their guns were immediately lifted in panic.
There the infamous and feared Black Dahlia stood, silent and relentless. Coming face to face with the legendary enemy of the Rebellion usually meant only one thing for her opposition; they wouldn't be living to see tomorrow. However, beneath the mask protecting her from the toxic fumes and the vacant eyes that held nothing but the screams of her own torture, were the remains of a Victor they had pledged to save. A girl who had once risked everything to ensure the Mockingjay's safety, the girl who had lost everything in her pursuit of freedom.
Though the task they faced was close to impossible, they had a job to do. And they would complete this mission, or die trying at the hands of the Black Dahlia.
"Capture her by any means necessary." Boggs commanded the team, who had flanked his side at the first sign of the threat. "But try not to injure. We need her alive and unharmed." He received nothing but affirmative nods in reply from his troops, who each began to worry about what their future held. "Be careful. She won't hesitate to go for the kill."
Those words sunk in quickly as the Black Dahlia reached behind her head and drew her notorious twin swords. She unsheathed them slowly, allowing her opponents to tremble with each inch of black steel she revealed. Those blades had been responsible for the deaths of dozens of rebel allies and the woman holding them showed no remorse for the lives she had stolen. That didn't sit right with some of the members sent to rescue her. One man, who'd been struck by the Black Dahlia just moments before, decided to take his revenge.
With a roar of rage, he launched forward and unleashed a shower of bullets at the confident woman. Boggs barely managed to bark out an order for the soldier to stand down over the deafening sound of gunshots and lab equipment being smashed. The Black Dahlia dodged every bullet expertly with her feet still glued to the spot, ducking under the fatal shots with such ease and grace as each one whizzed dangerously close to her skin.
She didn't show any hint of panic at the situation, despite the continuous gunfire and numerous weapons pointed in her direction. She simply waited for the offender to advance closer to her position, his teeth gritted together in frustration at the girl's refusal to die.
The Madame had told the Black Dahlia that the rebel soldiers weren't here to rescue her. She told her that they wouldn't hesitate to gun her down. They would kill her the earliest chance they had, unless she got to them first. But she was not the one who had fired the first bullet. They attacked her, she was merely showing them the same courtesy they showed her.
Boggs, Gale and the three other volunteers flinched back in shock as their fellow comrade dropped to the ground in front of them. They knew it was a stupid move to charge at the most renowned killer in Panem, but they hadn't expected the brutality and proficient ease in which she retaliated.
By crossing her blades, she delivered two simultaneous strikes to the attacking soldier's body, both slicing through the thick material of his suit to reach his neck and piercing long lacerations into the skin. The gun slipped from his fingertips as the man clutched his neck and collapsed onto the floor. He frantically removed his gas mask in a desperate attempt to ease his breathing. Though as he convulsed beneath her, choking on his own blood she stared down at him indifferently. Tilting her head threateningly, she delivered one final blow by slashing her blade across his face. The man fell dead at her feet, blood seeping out onto the floor from the incisions in his cheek.
There was no sorrow or shame in her eyes, not even horror at the atrocity she had just committed. Though there was a gleam of familiarity in her expression as she looked at the bloody smile grinning up at her. She had seen that somewhere before...
But the Capitol was her home and these invaders were seeking to destroy that. Her job was to defend and stall the self-proclaimed rescuers, to make them take as long as possible to reach their targets. In the end she would be captured, that was always the plan. But first, she would slow them down. First, she would make them bleed.
The rest of the team followed Boggs' orders as the shadow of the Black Dahlia descended upon them. They fought back but they did not shoot to kill or injure, only to keep her at bay. But they could not explain why the Black Dahlia was not aiming with the intention of killing. Everyone knew that no one lasted long in a fight against her. It was not possible for all five of them to have endured as long as they had... Yet they did?
That's not to say they did not sustain injuries. Blood was shed from each soldier that came into contact with her, each one now sporting their own scars to be worn with honour, like a badge of survival. Her black blades were dripping with red by the time she let them subdue her, a sign of a job well done.
Boggs was the one who eventually managed to 'defeat' the Black Dahlia. Ripping off the mask she wore removed the only layer of protection she would have from the gas, which he didn't hesitate to take advantage of. He let a gas canister discharge right next to her mouth, leaving the girl with no choice but to inhale the fumes and finally go limp in his hold.
"Boggs, come in." Beetee's voice crackled with static, but his urgency was clear.
"Copy." Boggs replied breathlessly, all the soldiers finding themselves extremely winded after the intense and gruelling battle. Glancing down at the passed out woman in his arms, the commanding officer was quick to realise that something had gone wrong in this mission. They had to know what was going on. "Command, we have the Black Da-- We have Dahlia Blossom in hand but I need a situation report."
"Boggs, we're running out of time." Beetee explain in a hushed tone, conveying the gravity of the situation. "Hurry."
Nodding to himself, Boggs carefully slung the Black Dahlia over his shoulder and gestured for the team to move forward. "Let's move."
But the rebels had no idea that they were playing right into the hands of the Capitol. After all, it's the things we love most that destroy us.