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"Give me one reason not to court martial you."
Gale is sitting at his desk, his computer terminal pulled up to a web call with President Paylor. He had expected the Capitol's military minister, or maybe Plutarch. He hadn't expected the President herself. But then again, she was a commander before she was in charge of the country. Gale is hot and cold at the same time. He feels like he might vomit. He has seen the prison, he pulled Enobaria and Johanna out of a Capitol prison. He cannot, no will not allow himself to be sent to one. "Everything I did, I did for the good of Panem."
She furrows her brow, opening her mouth a little before speaking. "Funny," she says, after the pause. "Because from the outside looking in, it appears like you're forming a junta over there in District 2."
He takes a deep breath. He had debated seeking the Capitol's approval for his plan ahead of time, but deep down, he knew it would never be granted. They didn't trust him like Coin did. "With all due respect, President Paylor, I was only trying to solve what was a near-impossible situation."
He can tell her patience is wearing thin, and part of him can understand. The news had likely spread nationwide that Capitol weapons had appeared in District 2, and people had been injured. "Explain," she says.
"The troops were gearing up for insurrection," he says. "I didn't just have loyalists here, hidden amongst the rank-and-file, but war criminals. People who tortured, raped, murdered during the war. They were trying to disrupt, do anything they could to keep the rebel soldiers from falling in with the new order."
"So you wanted to create a common enemy," she says, sounding almost bored.
"I had two aims. I wanted to create a common enemy, but I couldn't just use something neutral, like 'oh no, weapons from the Nut are still active under the rubble, we need to neutralize them!' I needed to see who would fail to act. Who wanted the Capitol weapons to work. To flush out the fox from the henhouse."
Paylor swallows, as if digesting this plan. "You couldn't have planned this alone."
Truthfully, he hadn't. Lyme had helped suggest some of it, and another man from District 13 had let him know about the extra, dormant pods being stored in a certain hangar behind the Nut. But he doesn't tell Paylor that. "The plan is my own. I only involved trusted unit leads to watch for seditious activity, in any exercise, because I wanted them to be on alert for possible Loyalists who would act against the interests of our government. That paid off, it seems, as some of them found and arrested members of their units. One of our soldiers was abandoned and later died after failing to help civilians who he called 'rebel scum' when they were in the path of weapons."
Paylor sighs, shaking her head. "I understand, but I feel that you are missing the point, which is that civilians were in the path of weapons, which was unnecessary."
"It was a lesser risk than renewing the civil war!" Gale says. "The tensions were escalating, something was going to happen!"
"Why didn't you bring this to the council?"
He sighs. "They're not on the ground here, they don't see it."
"Gale, this isn't Snow's government, we are trying to help the Districts. And you are not authorized to make these high-level decisions." She considers for a second. "I am going to need you to go on national television and explain, to tell everyone that the pods were the fault of extremists loyal to Snow, and not our current Capitol government. That is your get out of jail free card."
He considers this. She wants him to lie. It feels bad, but on the other hand, he wasn't prepared to tell the nation that he placed the pods in the District. It would have been a greater punishment to tell the truth, really. He's lived with the secret of the bombs that ended the war since the day the plan was drawn up, and he would carry that secret to his grave. What was one more on top of it, really? "Alright," he agrees, "I can manage that."
"And toe the line," she says, "Because next time I will not have the same lenience."
After the call, Gale leaves his office, and walks down to the training gym nearest. The unit of soldiers inside are wearing the new training uniforms, all identical, though it's easy to tell who was born in 2 and who was born in 13. There's some camaraderie that he didn't see before, however, as two of the men from different Districts elbow each other as they joke about something, and another few have bandages from the recent attack, something they fought and endured together.
They stand at attention when they see him. "At ease," he says, and the District 13 soldiers relax some, but the District 2 soldiers barely change their perfect posture. "I just talked to President Paylor," he says. "They've identified the cause of the attacks as extremists from within our ranks. They should be all arrested now, but we will continue to monitor for extremist behavior to prevent anything like this from happening again. In light of everyone's response, and no civilian casualties, she would like me to offer everyone two days of leave to use within the next month."
This was not true. Paylor had not granted this, and she had told Gale not to overstep again, but the hoots of happiness from the soldiers at extra time off make him forget this, and he hopes he'll be granted grace with his decision. He wasn't asking for more pay for them, after all.
After work, Gale goes to the tavern. It's lonely to just go back to his apartment, so at least when he goes drinking he can be surrounded by people. He had hoped to see Nia, but she is working late, so he nurses a drink while he waits for her to finish. He sees Johanna and Enobaria eating at a booth in the back and watches them, but makes no attempt to join. He knows they hate him. He knows they blame him for the attacks, some of the few people in Panem to see that day for what is was.
He sees Johanna from the front, laughing at something Enobaria says, and Enobaria in side profile, sipping a glass of wine. He feels deeply lonely then, and guilty about it, too. He has Nia, he has someone to eat dinners with and laugh with, but Nia does not, cannot know his secrets, so there will always be the distance between them. He is a soldier, Nia is a nurse. As much as he loves her care for him, he feels like they are always on separate sides of a conflict, even now, in peace times.
Johanna catches his eye and nods, not exactly in fondness, but in a neutral sort of acknowledgement. It's not hateful, at least. He walks over to their table, beer in hand, and Enobaria looks at him then too, more guarded than Jo, but then again, she always has been. "I heard the last one was arrested," Jo says, with no greeting, no preamble.
Lyme must have reported to them. He's sure they're talking about the final guard in that prison, and he's relieved to hear it. That some part of his plan benefited them, because then maybe they'll hate him less. He knows it's selfish reasoning, but he feels like he's in a pit, isolated, and he wants at least a bit of community, even from these women who he knows will never truly accept him. "I'm glad. I'm sure the case against him will be solid."
He wonders if they'll hate him again once he lies on national television, once he stands in front of the camera and says it wasn't him who planted the pods, but extremists. Maybe, but he knows they'll keep his secret, at least.
"Do you think they'll renew travel out of the District soon?" Enobaria asks him. "We were going to visit District 7 soon."
He had almost forgotten that Johanna wasn't from here, even though she doesn't blend in at all. He's never been to District 7, but he imagines it as a snowy forest, filled with short, pale people like Johanna, all sour-faced and caustic. "I imagine they'll open the borders again by this weekend."
"Are you going to leave?" Johanna asks. "Going to District 12?"
It's true he's accrued a lot of leave, and his family is back in District 12 now, but he hadn't planned on going home. It's only been about 5 months since the end of the war, and it feels too fresh, too soon to risk seeing Katniss. He's sure Peeta and Haymitch and the others will all be there as well, and the whole situation feels too volatile. Maybe he'll write his mother and ask her to visit 2, instead. Or maybe he'll take a trip to District 4, or somewhere else with his time, see more of Panem. "No, I don't think so. I have a lot of clean up to do with the soldiers."
Enobaria looks like she wants to make a comment, maybe something about how any clean up was his own fault, but Nia arrives and rushes over to their table, kissing Gale on the cheek and greeting Johanna as well. He is saved from her accusation, though he'll probably hear it next time, especially after his television segment airs.
He records the television segment the next day, with a crew sent in from the Capitol. The border was still closed, but they came via hovercraft with special landing permission. They set up a set inside the media room of one of the military buildings, and Gale was sent through styling in a way he assumes Katniss, or at least Peeta was before some of the Hunger Games interviews they were forced to go through.
His hair was styled, he was given a light dusting of makeup. A stylist plucked his eyebrows and then he was given a suit to change into. She decided the look wasn't quite right, so she had him change into his military uniform, and then he was stood in front of the camera where the lighting was adjusted until they were satisfied.
"Good evening, Panem," he begins. He had written roughly what he wanted to say, based on the bullet points Paylor's office wanted him to cover. But he didn't want to read anything on camera, so he memorized it as well as he could, and tried to sound natural. "This is Gale Hawthorne, director of the military integration unit in District 2. A few days ago, several extremists in our military deployed weapons in District 2. We believe their motivation was to resume the civil war and protest the current democratically elected government. The weapons used were from Former President Snow's government, dangerous and currently illegal weapons that had been slated for disposal. Seventy-one civilians sustained injuries, one-hundred-eleven soldiers sustained injuries, and two soldiers perished.
"The two soldiers killed were involved in the plot to use these weapons. All other extremists have been identified, arrested, and are now facing trial. District 2 is once again safe for travel, and there is not, and never has been a threat with our current Capitol government. Our military is vigilant for any future threats."
It's better this way, he tells himself. The blame lies with those already dead. The war criminals can be scapegoats, it's convenient. He almost laughs to think that even the people complaining that 'too many people were moving to District 2 after the war' might be pleased now, because if District 2 was thought of as a potentially dangerous place, it might stem the flow of immigration, even if the truth was that District 2 was as resilient and prosperous as ever.
After the recording Gale goes home, thinks about calling Nia, and decides against it. There isn't even a particular reason why, it's just the thought that he is on a different wavelength. That he spent the day lying to the entire nation about how he caused injuries and deaths, and she spent her entire day helping the sick and injured. He wants something to drink, and finds a bottle of white liquor in his cabinet. It's not the real stuff from District 12, just a copy, and really, the stuff from District 2 tastes better, but the fact that it's white liquor of all things makes him feel more melancholy.
Why did he buy the stuff in the first place? Probably because everyone in District 12 gets a taste for it, when you grow up with sips of it here and there: to stay warm, to kill a cough, to deal with a death or hunger or pain. And he has that same ache now, that same something that he wishes he could fill with human touch and kind words or just living a better life, but he can't, he's too many steps down the wrong path, so he pours himself three or four fingers and takes a couple sips and it's just as astringent as it always is, burning his throat and warm in his chest, and it feels like an empty stomach and a dead father and a whipping in the town square, and he knows in his heart this was always how it was going to turn out.
He can't stop thinking of District 12, of his mother, of his brothers and sister, of Katniss. He wonders what she's doing now, if she's also drinking white liquor, if she ever thinks of him. He wonders if she'll see his broadcast. He wonders if she'll see through the lie. He picks up his phone, thinks about calling her. Maybe he'll just let it ring, and when she finally picks up, just when he hears her say 'hello?', he'll hang up.
He almost laughs. As if that would be enough. He swallows down another gulp of the liquor, knowing he has no restraint. He'd either call for her like a lovesick teenager 'Katniss wait, don't hang up!' or he'd tear into her, 'Katniss why did you shoot her why didn't you just shoot Snow why-' and either way she'd hang up on him because what business does he have calling her out of the blue and so late and so desperate?
He slams down the receiver onto the tabletop, once, twice, until it cracks. He can hear pieces rattling around inside, and he's satisfied it's broken, that he won't be able to give in to his whims, that there's no way to make a call. He finishes his drink and pours another. He feels so fucking stupid, like he's lost control of his life.
This is what he had wanted, wasn't it? The woman had offered him this job and he took it willingly, but he could have had another. Enobaria was offered a job like his, and she took another.
Coin saw the military strategist in him, and he wants to continue, for her sake and his own. He is upset with Katniss for killing Coin, for killing what he could have been beside Coin, and he wonders if Katniss had intended for him to stop as well. She had figured out his part in the bombing, that was certain, so she probably had hoped he would just… disappear. But how could he? Did she expect him to just… become a desk attendant or a cook in some restaurant? Did she expect him to move back to 12 and go down in the mines? He had felt it - what it was like to hold power in his hands - and he couldn't go back.
The next morning he wakes up desperately hungover with a sore neck from sleeping on his couch. He drinks a glass of water, swallows two painkillers, and then showers and dresses for work. He regrets the last night. He regrets the phone, which he'll now have to replace, and he regrets staying home when he should have called Nia so they could go out, or at least spent time at his apartment together.
When he gets to his office the department secretary tells him the unit director wants to see him. Gale wonders if the plan to give the extra leave days backfired, or if his broadcast went very poorly. His hangover hadn't been giving him nausea, but now he feels slightly sick as he approaches the director's door.
"Hawthorne? Come in."
He sits at the chair opposite the wide, stately desk, unsure of where this is going. He doesn't interact with the director much, and honestly, is unsure of how much the director understood of the true nature of the operation. "President Paylor filled me in on your ingenuity," he says. Still, Gale is stiff. He doesn't know which version the man has been told. "She had nothing but good things to say."
"Thank you, sir."
"I feel ashamed that we didn't realize the rot within our ranks. Werth? Leeds? I did not suspect." He sighs. "The reason I asked you here is because the assistant director, Commander Hightower, is retiring this summer. I wanted to ask if you wanted to be considered for his role."
Gale widens his eyes. Assistant director of military training? He was being offered a promotion? "Yes, sir."
The director beams in a way that's almost fatherly. "Excellent. Please, spend at least a couple days a week shadowing him, getting to know his job before he retires. It will make the transition easier."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir!"
As he leaves the office, Gale almost wants to laugh. This would be it, wouldn't it? This pattern again and again forever. He would make some decision that feels risky, something that puts lives at risk, but is for the greater good, and then he gets rewarded for it: more money, better living conditions, a better job. And then it happens again, and again. He imagines himself in charge of Panem's military, with no one watching his moves, and it doesn't seem like a lofty dream anymore, but something that could reasonably happen.
He realizes he could have said no. He wasn't even in a contract right now: he could have quit his job at any time. But he didn't, and he wouldn't. He would take the assistant director job, and maybe one day the director job. Maybe after that he would be the councilor in the Capitol, advising on the military. It is invigorating, and it is terrifying.
He meets Nia out that night, and they go to a club. The music is too loud and the lights are very low, and they dance and drink and can hardly hear each other, and it's nice to turn his thoughts off and just press his body against hers and be among dozens of other beautiful, young people and forget about everything.
"Want to go back to my place?" she asks, and he nods, because of course he does. He wants to sleep with her, and wake up with her, and definitely not think about his own place and his stupid broken phone.
But on the way back they pass a couple and the woman has a missing arm and is wearing an eyepatch and it brings him back down to earth, because she's decidedly not a soldier, he can tell just by looking that she's just civilian, and what if something he did caused this?
"Do you know her?" Nia asks, once they're out of earshot.
Gale shakes his head.
"No. I just felt bad."
Nia smiles. "You have a soft heart. Don't come to the clinic."
She's right, in a way. He can't come to the clinic. But it's because he's like a villain who can't look at evidence of his crimes. He can exist in the world, but also needs to be separate from it. He can justify his actions, but only so far. Everything is easy on paper, when it's numbers and either/or scenarios, but looking at human beings makes him lose his breath. For just a moment, he gets it, why Katniss killed Coin, because the violence feels too real, and maybe he should just quit his job and give it up, move away and start over.
But then the girl is out of sight and out of mind, and they're in Nia's apartment lobby and he pushes the thoughts away, so all he can see is her: his girlfriend who is beautiful and likes him and wants to be with him, as he is. They have sex, and then he falls asleep holding Nia on her bed. He wonders if he could ever tell her about any of it: about when he was here the first time, about the end of the war, about the pods. He doubts it, not without ruining everything they have.
The next morning, he wakes up in Nia's bed, and he feels calm again, like he's where he's supposed to be. "Morning, handsome," she says, leaning over him to kiss him. She is pulling away before he can pull her against him, smiling. "No, sorry, I can't be late for work!" she says.
She dresses quickly and he does the same, and they stop at the market for tea and handpies before getting on separate trams for work. "See you tonight?" she asks.
He nods. "I'll meet you at the tavern?"
"Sounds good!" She is gone first, and he is stuck waiting for his tram. But he feels better, a night with Nia undoing the night of panic he had alone in his own apartment. He can continue holding it all up, the responsibilities of his job, and the secrets that it entails. He will take the promotion, he will continue his life in District 2, and life will go on.