variations of this plan have already failed, so many of her soldiers have been lost. Finally, she bursts out, „The next person who suggests we take the entrances better have a brilliant way to do it, because you’re going to be the one leading that mission!“
Gale, who is too restless to sit at the table for more than a few hours, has been alternating between pacing and sharing my windowsill. Early on, he seemed to accept Lyme’s assertion that the entrances couldn’t be taken, and dropped out of the conversation entirely. For the last hour or so, he’s sat quietly, his brow knitted in concentration, staring at the Nut through the window glass. In the silence that follows Lyme’s ultimatum, he speaks up. „Is it really so necessary that we take the Nut? Or would it be enough to disable it?“
„That would be a step in the right direction,“ says Beetee. „What do you have in mind?“
„Think of it as a wild dog den,“ Gale continues. „You’re not going to fight your way in. So you have two choices. Trap the dogs inside or flush them out.“
„We’ve tried bombing the entrances,“ says Lyme. „They’re set too far inside the stone for any real damage to be done.“
„I wasn’t thinking of that,“ says Gale. „I was thinking of using the mountain.“ Beetee rises and joins Gale at the window, peering through his ill-fitting glasses. „See? Running down the sides?“
„Avalanche paths,“ says Beetee under his breath. „It’d be tricky. We’d have to design the detonation sequence with great care, and once it’s in motion, we couldn’t hope to control it.“
„We don’t need to control it if we give up the idea that we have to possess the Nut,“ says Gale. „Only shut it down.“
„So you’re suggesting we start avalanches and block the entrances?“ asks Lyme.
„That’s it,“ says Gale. „Trap the enemy inside, cut off from supplies. Make it impossible for them to send out their hovercraft.“
While everyone considers the plan, Boggs flips through a stack of blueprints of the Nut and frowns. „You risk killing everyone inside. Look at the ventilation system. It’s rudimentary at best. Nothing like what we have in Thirteen. It depends entirely on pumping in air from the mountainsides. Block those vents and you’ll suffocate whoever is trapped.“
„They could still escape through the train tunnel to the square,“ says Beetee.
„Not if we blow it up,“ says Gale brusquely. His intent, his full intent, becomes clear. Gale has no interest in preserving the lives of those in the Nut. No interest in caging the prey for later use.
This is one of his death traps.
15
The implications of what Gale is suggesting settle quietly around the room. You can see the reaction playing out on people’s faces. The expressions range from pleasure to distress, from sorrow to satisfaction.
„The majority of the workers are citizens from Two,“ says Beetee neutrally.
„So what?“ says Gale. „We’ll never be able to trust them again.“
„They should at least have a chance to surrender,“ says Lyme.
„Well, that’s a luxury we weren’t given when they fire-bombed Twelve, but you’re all so much cozier with the Capitol here,“ says Gale. By the look on Lyme’s face, I think she might shoot him, or at least take a swing. She’d probably have the upper hand, too, with all her training. But her anger only seems to infuriate him and he yells, „We watched children burn to death and there was nothing we could do!“
I have to close my eyes a minute, as the image rips through me. It has the desired effect. I want everyone in that mountain dead. Am about to say so. But then…I’m also a girl from District 12. Not President Snow. I can’t help it. I can’t condemn someone to the death he’s suggesting. „Gale,“ I say, taking his arm and trying to speak in a reasonable tone. „The Nut’s an old mine. It’d be like causing a massive coal mining accident.“ Surely the words are enough to make anyone from 12 think twice about the plan.
„But not so quick as the one that killed our fathers,“ he retorts. „Is that everyone’s problem? That our enemies might have a few hours to reflect on the fact that they’re dying, instead of just being blown to bits?“
Back in the old days, when we were nothing more than a couple of kids hunting outside of 12, Gale said things like this and worse. But then they were just words. Here, put into practice, they become deeds that can never be reversed.
„You don’t know how those District Two people ended up in the Nut,“ I say. „They may have been coerced. They may be held against their will. Some are our own spies. Will you kill them, too?“
„I would sacrifice a few, yes, to take out the rest of them,“ he replies. „And if I were a spy in there, I’d say, ‘Bring on the avalanches!’“
I know he’s telling the truth. That Gale would sacrifice his life in this way for the cause—no one doubts it. Perhaps we’d all do the same if we were the spies and given the choice. I guess I would. But it’s a coldhearted decision to make for other people and those who love them.
„You said we had two choices,“ Boggs tells him. „To trap them or to flush them out. I say we try to avalanche the mountain but leave the train tunnel alone. People can escape into the square, where we’ll be waiting for them.“
„Heavily armed, I hope,“ says Gale. „You can be sure they’ll be.“
„Heavily armed. We’ll take them prisoner,“ agrees Boggs.
„Let’s bring Thirteen into the loop now,“ Beetee suggests. „Let President Coin weigh in.“
„She’ll want to block the tunnel,“ says Gale with conviction.
„Yes, most likely. But you know, Peeta did have a point in his propos. About the dangers of killing ourselves off. I’ve been playing with some numbers. Factoring in the casualties and the wounded and…I think it’s at least worth a conversation,“ says Beetee.
Only a handful of people are invited to be part of that conversation. Gale and I are released with the rest. I take him hunting so he can blow off some steam, but he’s not talking about it. Probably too angry with me for countering him.
The call does happen, a decision is made, and by evening I’m suited up in my Mockingjay outfit, with my bow slung over my shoulder and an earpiece that connects me to Haymitch in 13—just in case a good opportunity for a propo arises. We wait on the roof of the Justice Building with a clear view of our target.
Our hoverplanes are initially ignored by the commanders in the Nut, because in the past they’ve been little more trouble than flies buzzing around a honeypot. But after two rounds of bombings in the higher elevations of the mountain, the planes have their attention. By the time the Capitol’s antiaircraft weapons begin to fire, it’s already too late.
Gale’s plan exceeds anyone’s expectations. Beetee was right about being unable to control the avalanches once they’d been set in motion. The mountainsides are naturally unstable, but weakened by the explosions, they seem almost fluid. Whole sections of the Nut collapse before our eyes, obliterating any sign that human beings have ever set foot on the place. We stand speechless, tiny and insignificant, as waves of stone thunder down the mountain. Burying the entrances under tons of rock. Raising a cloud of dirt and debris that blackens the sky. Turning the Nut into a tomb.
I imagine the hell inside the mountain. Sirens wailing. Lights flickering into darkness. Stone dust choking the air. The shrieks of panicked, trapped beings stumbling madly for a way out, only to find the entrances, the launchpad, the ventilation shafts themselves clogged with earth and rock trying to force its way in. Live wires flung free, fires breaking out, rubble making a familiar path a maze. People slamming, shoving, scrambling like ants as the hill presses in, threatening to crush their fragile shells.
„Katniss?“ Haymitch’s voice is in my earpiece. I try to answer back and find both of my hands are clamped tightly over my mouth. „Katniss!“
On the day my father died, the sirens went off during my school lunch. No one waited for dismissal, or was expected to. The response to a mine accident was something outside the control of even the Capitol. I ran to Prim’s class. I still remember her, tiny at seven, very pale, but sitting straight up with her hands folded on her desk. Waiting for me to collect her as I’d promised I would if the sirens ever sounded. She sprang out of her seat, grabbed my coat sleeve, and we wove through the streams of people pouring out onto the streets to pool at the
