CHAPTER 8 – COCKED PISTOL

Synopsis: Following the occupation of Confederation-run New Caledonia, President Kane and company head to Geneva, Swiss Confederation for a Council of Nations (CN) meeting. Loose ends are finally tied.

ARE YOU "IN THE KNOW!?" – YOUR NEWS THIS WEEK, JUNE 16th, 2158

A Panem Broadcasting Corporation Newsreel *MMCLVIII*

"PRESIDENT KANE AND MEMBERS OF GOVERNMENT PREPARE TO ATTEND COUNCIL OF NATIONS MEETING AMID MILITARY INTERVENTION OF CONFEDERAITON ISLAND"

War ravages the Asian continent as PBC News confirms nuclear detonation near the Chinese (Korean-Controlled) city of Shenyang 24 hours ago amid tensions between Korean and Chinese warlords as they vie for territory.

Remnants of our shattered earth combat these 'rouge Chinese powers' on all fronts. South West Africa, Arabia and Khalistan to the southwest, the British, French and Russians to the northwest, not to mention Panem, Korea and the Australian Confederation to the east.

China a once formidable world power before the apocalypse, is now a shell of its former self, as descendants of its leadership before the disasters now spars over its fragments. Many of those fragments include the remainder of China's nuclear arsenal. Despite our many differences, the remnants of the world stage can all agree that China poses a threat to our existences.

…Alas, within the last 48 hours as Panem's noble Peacekeepers fought and bled to do their part in preserving our earth and our nation, it seems that we've been played for fools.

As per the frenzy at the Presidential Mansion and other federal facilities in the Government Quarter within the last two days, the President has learned that the culprits behind the massive spy ring are none other than the Australian Confederation! Rest assured fellow citizen that Panem has dealt with the persons responsible for this egregious act of espionage against our nation.

With our courageous naval forces, we swiftly moved to occupy an island on the fringes of this 'Confederation' by the name of "New Caledonia" destroying the satellites these foreign aliens used to contact their homeland.

It is because of the likes of Panem's brawn, brain and nautical know-how why this operation was successful!

Look it's the spearhead of this operation itself, Admiral Glamoure Hansson, overseeing the occupation of New Caledonia now alongside one of Panem's spunkiest victor's – Celosia Vale of District 7! They seem very hard at work to ensure a smooth transition!

And now amid the tension President Kane, First Lady Cruella Kane and members of his government have now arrived in Geneva, Swiss Confederation, in order to iron out the details necessary to end the conflict between the two nations of Panem and the Australian Confederation!

Here they are now, the President and First Lady, as their hoverplane touches down in Geneva. Security precautions are at an all time high for all foreign dignitaries. Given the Swiss children and their parents joyously waving foreign flags as they greet each head of state, how irrelevant all this security seems.

What will come of this meeting between world powers? We can never know for certain.

Well, now you know!

GENEVA, SWISS CONFEDERATION, JUNE 16, 2158 (95thADD)

President Kane:

Switzerland has always been a peculiar fit to the jigsaw that was the world as we currently know it. How the nation held up as others spiraled into chaos multiple times throughout the centuries is beyond me. Maybe neutrality was and is the way to go.

…Or maybe a having a plethora of foreign investments serve as a sturdy deterrent to nuclear fire. You wouldn't want to vaporize your fortunes after all.

"Mr. President," calls a flight attendant.

"Yes…" I begin, straining my eyes as I glance at the rank and name tag on the chest and shoulder of her uniform. "Airman Stafford, how may I help you?"

She regards me with a warm smile. "We're ready for you to disembark now."

Rising from my desk, I make my signature gesturing motion. "Lead the way, young lady."

As we leave from my hoverplane office on our way towards the exit, I continue to glance at the city, Geneva. The buildings, very uniform and brutalistic reminded me very much of District 2 or even some locations in the Capitol. Like most cities of the more functional nations after the Disasters there doesn't seem to be much progress in terms of new architecture, just the same rustic buildings that have been around for what must be a millennia.

As we round the corner to the exit, Cruella's face lights up with light surprise and then transitions into a smile as she notices me.

"Ready, my darling?" she asks me.

I reply with small shrug. "Ready as I'll ever be…" Not quite, but I'll manage.

"It's been oh so long since I've seen Dietrich and Erika," my wife sighs, turning towards the door as the pilot steps into the spitting rain. "Too bad the occasion isn't much of a joyous one."

Thanking the guard that hands me an umbrella, I link Cruella's arms in mine. "I share your discontent, my dear…tenfold."

As the guard motions us forward, I activate my umbrella as I stride onto the platform. The pilot having opened the exit hatch prior steps aside and snaps a salute as Cruella and I gaze out towards the welcoming party.

Lined with a red carpet leading towards my parade car and motorcade, the landing was swarmed with joyous children waving the banner of Panem, mixed in with the Swiss cross. Positioned along the way were Swiss honor guards alongside a military band playing our national anthem. Slowly, my wife and I bound down the stairs towards the welcoming dignitaries. After a presentation of flowers to Cruella and a series of handshakes, we were escorted into the parade car and whisked off to the Council of Nations Headquarters.

As we get closer and closer to our destination, my mind begins to race with the possible outcomes this meeting will bring. 'Will this skirmish finally come to a conclusion? 'is one of the utmost issues that wracks my mind. The thought of finally being able to focus on domestic issues instead of siphoning money towards needless conquest and 'chest-thumping' on the world stage is an ideal I think many of my colleagues would agree on. Given the century and a half of nuclear hellfire and geographical disaster, I doubt the situations in other nations are any better than anyone else's. Cruella must notice my anxiety, as she entwines my hand with hers. It's a gesture I welcome with open arms.

Other than the taking in of sites and gawking Swiss citizens, the trip goes on without a hitch as the Panemian delegation arrives at the Palace of Nations. The ensemble was the same as the airports – honor guards, red carpet and the press. Awaiting us as the limousine rounded the curl-de-sac was the Swiss President himself, Dietrich Anheuser and his wife Erika.

Anheuser wastes no time embracing Cruella and I with a hug and a kiss on the cheek for good measure. Regardless of all the mud that's slung between each nation and the wrongdoings we conduct, the Swiss President still carries on with us as if we were old chums meeting up after a long absence. If anything, he is the embodiment of the Swiss and their track record of neutrality.

"Agesilaus, how are you my friend?" He asks, as if my nation didn't conquer and currently occupy an island belonging to another sovereign nation.

"Not that well Dietrich…As you may know." I say lamely, earning a lopsided smile from the Swiss President. Keeping up face for the press, he with Erika by our side ushers Cruella and I up the grand steps of the Palace, where the other leaders of the remnants of earth speak to one another.

One can't help but notice the 'alliances' formed on top of those steps. Like the Careers in the Hunger Games, the likes of the Union of Sovereign States (Eurasia/Russia), Korea, South West Africa, Arabia and other states mingle on one side as the 'Outliers' the Australian Confederation, France, England, Spain and others congregate on the other side…Just like footage one would see of the training sessions. Both sides keep up pleasantries as they glance my way, but one doesn't have to be a genius to know that at least half of those smiles are as feeble as glass.

"That's why we're here Agesilaus," says Dietrich as we approach the landing. "I assure you that we will reach a conclusion everyone will support." That'd be nice…

"Ah, Seonbae-President Kane…Cruella-ssi," United Democratic Republic of Korea leader Ahn Sun Pok greets, embracing us with a nod. Her English is heavily accented. "What a pleasure for you to join us."

"Supreme Leader Pok," I reply, "My sincere apologies regarding the nuclear strike on one of your cities."

As Cruella leaves my side to mingle with the other First Ladies a sheepish aide leans toward the Korean leader, whispering into her ear as she nods along. She turns back to me now, her face etched with irritation as she speaks her native tongue.

The aide turns to me now. "The Supreme Leader expresses her immense dissatisfaction with the likes of Panem and Australian Confederation in their attempts to apprehend Wei Feng. She demands both nations return to combat at once."

I frown, nodding sympathetically. "I understand. There will be plenty of time do discuss the situation inside the Palace conference room."

"Oh, there will be plenty of discussions to be had, 'Mister President',"

Turning around to meet the voice, I'm greeted by none other than Vice President Preston of the Australian Confederation. For a world leader whose nation had its territory accosted and occupied by mine, she expresses her anger well. Her eyes simmer with anger as the space between us is akin to that one would share with their beloved.

I take a step backward. "Miss Preston. Where is President Matthews?"

"President Matthews is where the rest of you spineless cowards would never tread – the front lines, making sure his troops are given a proper welcome after being detained by your government."

I stifle the urge to snort. Their hearts may be in the right place, but their self-righteousness knows no bounds. "You and I both know that the actions your nation took against Panem were asking for this to transpire. Maybe if the Australian Confederation kept their noses out of the affairs of other nations, the occupying of your territory wouldn't be on the table."

She rolls her eyes. "Maybe so President Kane, but let it be known that the Confederation will get its fair share out of these deliberations. You will pay for your transgressions."

"Good afternoon, heads of state! If you could kindly amass in the middle of the landing for our official photo?" calls out an aide to President Anheuser.

I turn back to the Australian Vice President. "We'll see about that, Miss Preston. I hope that our nations will be able to see to it that our differences are solved."

Glancing over my shoulder, she lets out a snort as begins to stride to the opposite end of the steps. "Maybe, I don't see DeWynter and co. skulking around…neither do I see any strings attached to your arms either."

With a sigh of my own, I greet the likes of Premier Kudratseyev of Russia and President Van de Kaamp before turning towards the camera and smiling as it's flash envelops my vision.

CONFERENCE ROOM, PALACE OF NATIONS – SWISS CONFEDERATION

*The following is a transcript regarding the recent skirmishes involving world powers across the globe, alongside the nuclear strike of the Korean city of Shenyang and the decisions that were reached regarding these affairs. Due to the multitude of Heads of State and their aides involved with these talks, the persons speaking will be listed alongside the nation they hail from instead of a list naming the participants. A full list will be included when the summit concludes.*

First time speakers will be stated by rank and nation. Afterwards, it will be abbreviated for easy reading.

Anheuser (President, Swiss Confed.): Welcome everyone once again to the Council of Nations summit here in Geneva…I wish the terms in which we are meeting would be on better terms, but I hope that we can hammer out a constructive conclusion and settle down at the state dinner later this evening. I-

Preston (Vice President, Australian Confed.): Listen Anheuser mate, I respect you many times more than the 'leaders' that sit in this conference room today…but I speak for Australia and the rest of the Confederation when I say that we will NOT be satisfied until Panem is brought to JUSTICE for their bullshit actions against our people.

Aristella (Minister of Foreign Affairs, Panem): 'Bullshit' actions…President Anheuser, with nearly one hundred foreign agents within our borders sent by the AC, on top of a satellite designed to transmit information about our nation back to their leaders mind you, Panem took the necessary measures to reaffirm our sovereignty.

Preston (AC): Reaffirm our sovereign-…You're kidding me, right!? Heh…you fuckin' Capitols and your rationale. Excuse my French…but I have a feeling many people in this room share my point of view!

[A round of 'Here, here!' floods the room, alongside fervent applause as the Australian Vice-President nods with affirmation.]

Spying on a despicable nation like yours is doing god's work! Who else would report the plight of the peoples of what was 'The Bastion of Freedom', hm? You know if I were dealing with a 'nation' who sends their children to a televised deathmatch, I would want to know.

Aristella (PN): Gee…What are with you people and emotions? It's rationale like hers why the world is where it is today. President Anheuser, the Panemian delegation won't stand for such attacks on topics the Australians know nothing about.

Preston (AC): When our non-combative oil rigs are attacked and our territories literally STRIPPED of all resources to fill YOUR gluttony, we have a right to call you out on WHATEVER we please! The recent attack on New Caledonia was the last straw. Panem needs to answer for its actions. 'President' Kane seeing that you're not connected to your marionette, how about YOU step to the microphone and hash this out!

Agesilaus Kane (President, Panem): Ahem, yes…Well I can say without fault in my heart that Panem will not be apologizing for the events that took place 72 hours ago. Given the faults of both sides of the conflict, I am confused as to why our actions invoke such a response seeing that one hundred foreign agents were apprehended in our nation…If that isn't a form of warfare, I'm not quite sure what is.

I've said it time and time again, since everyone is so interested in every nation's internal affairs that Panem is to cease the Hunger Games after its centennial year. I'm tired of going over the same talking points ad nauseam. However, with my goal to further open up Panem to the world and to start that process I will gladly deliberate with the Australian Confederation delegation in terms of demands following the occupation of New Caledonia.

Anheuser (Swiss.): …Miss Preston, your response on behalf of your Confederation? I know that Taiwan, Japan and the others are here with you as well…but erm, you seem to be the chief speaker.

[With a huff, Preston turns to her fellow delegates and deliberates with them for a brief moment.]

Preston (AC): Panem is to repay the Australian Confederation for its destroyed space equipment, alongside all military infrastructures damaged during their attack on New Caledonia. The Australian Confederation demands that our territorial waters be expanded to halt Panemian incursions into OUR bloody territory. For example, Australia's economic zone will now consist of 1,538 nautical miles eastward as far out as Christmas Island and as north as all of Papua New Guinea and the remainder of what was known as Indonesia, nothing less. Speaking with the other Confederation sovereign states such as Taiwan, Japan and the Philippines already have a strict territorial claim on their waters, so they are content with their current situations.

If you blokes want any ANY economic cooperation with the Australian Confederation and respective sovereign states, Panem WILL cease to host these 'Hunger Games', alongside their proxy aide to nations such as South West Africa and others for the sake of warfare and disfranchisement of the downtrodden peoples in their regions. We DEMAND OUR MEN AND WOMEN BACK! We aided Korea and you in the pushing back of that bloody Wei Feng, so cough up your end of the bargain.

Anheuser (Swiss.): Is that all, Miss Preston?

Preston (AC): That's about it, Mate. The AC isn't having anymore of this malarkey with Panem anymore.

Anheuser (Swiss.): President Kane, Minister Belliard? Have you any response?

[Exchanging glances among each other and their aides, President Kane motions for Miss Aristella Belliard to rise.]

Aristella (Panem): Alongside the task force sent to New Caledonia to occupy the island, Panem also carries the foreign agents sent to usurp information for nefarious purposes on a medical ship. As soon as we come to an agreement in this room, we will gladly exchange the prisoners. In terms of territorial claims, Panem could care less about these new developments. Panem will not be paying back the Australian Confederation for damaged military property as this property was used to attack Panem for its information. However, we will gladly offer aide to injured civilians alongside any damaged civilian infrastructure during the raid on New Caledonia…we're doing so right now.

Furthermore, Panem will not not render aide to nations in which we are in partnership with. The materials given to these nations are for the purpose of aiding their governments in the defence against the mass instability they face, in turn protecting Panemian interests more effectively.

In terms of economic partnership with the AC, Panem is not interested. However, my President requests a secure, non Council of Nations communication line between the highest levels of our governments to prevent 'miscommunication.'

Anheuser (Swiss.): My stenographer here is currently jotting down the terms for both parties to sigh officially…Unless the Australian Confederation has any further objections?

Preston (AC): …No, no. The Australian Confederation supports these proposals. Panem vacates New Caledonia, the AC gains more nautical territory, alongside aide from Panem in the aftermath of their attack and a secure non-sanctioned line between our two governments in a case of emergency AND our men and women are returned to us-

Aristella (Panem): Sure, whatever your heart's desire. However, Panem wants something from the AC before any of this is to come to fruition.

[The AC delegation exchange cautious glances with one another.]

Preston (AC): Okay… and what's that?

Kane (Panem): It's quite simple. In exchange for your men and women back, the young man by the name of Antipatros Andrews Thomas must be extradited back to Panemian authority. Just Mister Stevens…the other Panemians who emigrated during the civil war can remain in Australi-

Preston (AC): NO, that's out of the question! Antipatros is a refugee of your horrendous regime and he shall remain in Australia.

Kane (Panem): Them you can forget about your demands. Panem will continue to occupy New Caledonia and will not recognize your newfound territorial claims. If you take the island by force, then we will consider that action a form of warfare and will respond in kind…then your noble efforts of globalism will be all but mum…as much as I agree with your overall goals.

Preston (AC): …Christ. We'd need to confirm a number of things as a delegation before any final decision can be made regarding 'Antipatros' Thomas…

Kane (Panem): That's all Panem asks. This summit does not end today. I'll give you until this evening to make up your minds. Until then, Panem accepts your demands.

Anheuser (Swiss.): Wunderbar! We'll draft an official document solidifying your agreement for both delegations to sign later tonight. I'm glad we could come to a constructive conclusion.

Ahn Sun Pok (Supreme Leader, UDPRK- Korea): eum ...yeoboseyo?! uli dosiui jung-gug gong-gyeog-eun eottae? Panemdo hojudo Wei Feng-i cheolpye doen geos-eul boassseubnida!

[Translate: Um...Hello?! What about the Chinese ATTACK on my city?! Panem nor Australia have seen to it that Wei Feng is ELIMINATED!]

Anheuser (Swiss.): Oh yes, right. The attack on Korea…I agree Miss Pok, more action is required on behalf of the world community…Let us begin a discussion on how Wei Feng's grip on the coast can be quelled…

***END OF PANEM-AC SEGMENT***

FEDERAL PALACE, SWISS CONFEDERATION – JUNE 16, 2158 (95th HG)

The stress of the day was easily washed away by this grand showing of glitz and glam. The ballroom reminded me of something one would see in the Capitol back home. With a flute of champagne in hand as I glance round the room I find it fun to glance at all the cultural garbs each nation reverted to. South West Africa with their suits adorned with leopard pelts, the Arabs with their robes and headscarves, the Koreans and Russians with their uniforms…Those from Europe or Australia follow the tuxedo model one would find just before the apocalypse, while we in the Panemian delegation followed after a more 'vintage' design.

Given the heavy-handed topics, all was well as of current. Dignitaries hailing from a plethora of nations come together and hobnob as spirit bottles pop and tasteful melodies from the stage band fill the air. Everything was quaint and balanced, just the way I prefer it. No arguing, no being on the verge of warfare…Just a couple of leaders from the remnants of the world coming together as their common folk scrape together a decent living.

Turning, I watch as my wife strolls over from the gaggle of First Ladies and their husbands. She isn't alone; Marshal Sergei Kudryavtsev of Russia escorts her. I'm not surprised my wife was roped in by his charms. He's a handsome young man, dark blue eyes, pale skin, and slicked black hair with the front end forming a curled ringlet over his forehead.

"President Kane, comrade, how are you?" He exclaims, grabbing me with a bear hug and kissing my cheeks three times. "You're wife is exquisite!"

Giggling, my wife chastises the Russian leader with a gentle slap of the shoulder. "Oh Agesilaus, I never knew Mister Sergei here was such a flirt! He tells me that things went well at today's summit, is that true?"

I jostle my head to and fro. Besides the recommitment of Panem Peacekeepers to this quagmire of a war and the bold demands of the Australian Confederation, all things went exceptionally well…Looking on the alternative we could be waging a fourth world war.

"The expeditionary force will be back in China for the final push against Wei Feng…" I glower, nodding in affirmation as Cruella copies my expression.

"Don't vory, Russia is in fray zis time." Sergei says, "The four of us together, Panem, Korea, Russia and zose Neoliberals against those Chinese dog - unlikely allies, but forrrce to be reckoned vith. Not to mention zose Hunger Games Victors joining fight...I vonder how zey vill fare..."

Cruella turns to me now, an incredulous look about her. "Hunger Games victors, really?"

I nod. "By the plural, he means the likes of Celosia Vale and Zenobia Rivendell. It's all propaganda, my darling…my ministers think it'll do the nation good to see a Victor leading the fight outside an arena. Celosia has had experience for a couple of years now, and remember that Zenobia was a cadet since early childhood."

"Well, that's very exciting yet shocking news…" my wife replies, "This generation of victors are much more productive than the ones prior to the Seventy-Fifth, that's for sure."

Before I could reply, a young man in an olive uniform taps me on the shoulder. The rising sun and pointing stars on his slouched hat denotes him as an AC soldier. I can't help but notice the apprehension on his features as he meets my inquisitive gaze head on.

"My President would like a word with you now." He says flatly. Offering him a friendly smile, I gesture forward toward the balcony. "Lead the way, soldier."

He simply doesn't reply, pivoting on his heel as he turns and proceeds toward the French doors leading towards the dying light of the day. Once outside, the young soldier places a holoprojector on the cobble floor. With a clear light, the man projected is none other than President of the Australian Confederation Joseph Matthews. Dressed in fatigues as per usual, a part of me is relieved that he prefers not to mingle with the other heads of state and didn't lead his nation's delegation to today's summit…if his current attitude gives me a hint. He regards me with hardened sneer, understandable given my nations attack on his territory. Swiveling on his two feet he gazes towards the sunset, his hands clasped behind his back.

"If they were able to coax you to do something like this, then how will you go about fixing your nation in its entirety?" he says, not facing me.

"Contrary to what your spies have been saying, there is a yearn for change." I reply, taking my space beside the younger man. "Much has changed in twenty years. This isn't Snow's Panem anymore…things have changed for the better."

His eyes still trained towards the sunset, he shows no sign of response to my words. "Only time will tell if that change will be substantial enough. This kid, this…'Antipatros'- well, 'Andrews' now, he bloody better be treated fairly when he arrives back in the Capitol."

Antipatros Andrews Thomas, a junior Gamemaker during the time of the 95th Hunger Games. Sometime during the arrival of the tributes to the opening ceremonies, Antipatros made off with sensitive information in regards to this year's Hunger Games. After the capture of the dozens of foreign Australian spies and the impending death of this years' Head Gamemaker for being a ringleader for it all, he was wise enough to flee. So, we followed him and here we are now.

I return his gesture of limited response, shrugging my shoulders. "There will be hell to pay from the other lawmakers. At worse, he's avoxed or sent to a prison or even both. At best he could be deported to a District with his family or-" My sentence is cut off by a glare from the Australian President, his cybernetic eye flaring red as he looms over me.

"If you are as virtuous a leader as you claim to be, you will pardon the boy of his 'crimes'." Matthews says lowly, his voice trembling with anger. "You and I both know he wasn't doing anything wrong but exposing your government for how nefarious they can be."

I nod. Antipatros was a young adult…he was just doing what he thought was right. An easy confiscation of his tools among other restrictions should be enough to curb any more 'wrongdoing'. "…O-Of course, you have my word."

President Matthews turns back towards the sunset now. "Good. After this, we will take out Wei Feng and go about our separate ways. Then maybe, after your affairs in Panem are sorted, we can work together to see to it that the world is a better place than it was a century prior."

I turn to him now, a small smile etched on my lips.

"I would very much like that. Until then, I wish you luck."

NOUMÉA, NEW CALEDONIA - 1200 Hours, JUNE 17 2158 (95th HG)

Celosia Vale| Victor of the 81st Hunger Games:

And here I thought Panem was the centre of the universe.

Slipping on my jackboots, I watch as a Peacekeeper sergeant barks orders to her subordinates while they assemble their respective gear. Heh heh… all these years I spent gazing past the district boundary line wondering if there was a country just like Panem, there were hundreds. And just like how the Capitol was top dog over us, they were top dog out here as well. Figures…

What boggles my mind first and foremost, is who the bad guys are this time around?

As I secure my leather blouson over my shoulders, Admiral Glamoure Hansson saunters into the launch bay - a holographic image of a woman on her communicuff. The slender figure looked a lot like DeWynter, Kane's second-in-charge. After the women exchange a few hushed words, DeWynter cranes her head my way, smiling as her image dissipates.

As a Peacekeeper calls the room, everyone in the room excluding myself stands at attention. "Admiral on deck!"

"At ease ladies and gentlemen," she says aloud, a boastful smile spread from cheek to cheek. Like many District One'ers I've encountered, it seems that even military life hasn't chewed up her smug attitude. She cranes her head towards the upper rafters. "Athena, have our guests arrived?"

"Yes Admiral," croons a female voice over the intercom, "President Matthews and his delegation are arriving into port as we speak."

"Good. I suppose we should be good hosts and meet them there in person," Glamoure, turning to me now. "Miss Vale, are you ready?" Attaching a rifle to a magnetic clip on my back, I simply shrug. "Ready as I'll ever be…"

With a nod to a Peacekeeper, the soldier activates a switch. Upon activating said switch the middle of the launch bay opens up in a circular motion, a bluish force field preventing us from being sucked out into the sky. Altogether, the Admiral, myself and her squad leap out into the air – the force field from the Hydra hovercraft gently placing us down on solid ground. Like an elevator, we descend downward as the whole of the island could be seen before us. Having stopped by District 4 on numerous occasions since my victory, 'New Caledonia' took after the place to a tee - colourful buildings, shining seas…everything.

It's stuff like this that made me inquire the Capitol about joining the Expeditionary Force. Exploring the ruins of the old world, discovering fledgling societies. Being cooped up in one District all the time takes its toll...

While our feet touch the ground and the Peacekeepers form a perimeter, a giant crowd has formed in the various balconies and outer reaches of the port. They watch with intrigued looks on their faces as they mutter to one another. Hansson said that this country usurped information from Panem. It's possible that they used said information to inform their populace about Panem's happenings. Judging by the looks we're receiving, the townspeople have heard many tales.

"Is this the 'adventure' you're looking for, Celosia?" muses Hansson, adjusting her uniform while taking in the scenery around her.

"I'd rather do this than mentor, that's for sure." I quip in reply.

We don't have to wait long. A much older twin-rotor helicopter lands a little ways ahead of us. A squad of soldiers wearing camouflage pour out, forming a protective circle around a woman whose hands are clasped together, a man and…what appears to be his wife –given the way her hand his snaked around his arm. With a gentle motion of the head, the Admiral begins to stride forward as we follow. Both opposite parties meet smack-dab in the middle of the port – beside a platform in which a ship could land. The contrast was quite evident. 'Australian' camouflage versus Panemian grey – white if they were on home turf.

The man and his wife stride past their guards, as Hansson motions me forward whilst she and I do the same. For a moment or two, both parties stare each other down as we take each other in. The first thing I notice about the supposed 'president' of this territory is the prosthetic arm he has. Not only that, his eye seems to be a cyber implant as well…Hmph.

He seems to notice my cybernetic arm as well, given to me by the Capitol after my tussle with the beefcake of a District 2 tribute during my Games.

"Nice arm," I gaze towards the name stenciled on his uniform, "Matthews."

"I remember you," he says simply, nodding his head in recollection. His accent unlike anything I've heard -so twangy. "Your arena was a chasm of junk. As despicable as the show was…you gave your opponent a run for their money. What I find more interesting, however, is why the Cappies sent you out here."

"Oh you know…" I croon, my voice laced with casual snark. "I wanted t'see the world, broaden my horizons…"

"Oh yeah?" he replies, crossing his arms. "How are you likin' it so far?"

I snort. "It's warm, I'll give you guys that."

The lady with her hands clasped together begins to step forward, her hands now beginning to caress my cheek…then my cybernetic arm.

"Sister Nina, I don't think that's very wise," says President Matthews, his voice filled with restraint. 'Sister Nina' carries on anyway. "Poor…Poor child," she soothes, her accent was unlike Matthews and his wife. It was rough, yet loving. If that makes sense…"I can only imagine the internal strife you deal with on a daily basis. For shame."

I frown, glancing at the peacekeepers around me as they shrug in confusion. She ain't wrong, but she ain't right…but I'm not gonna let some random lady tell me about myself. Clutching her hand, I gently swipe them to the side."

"Listen lad-"

Hansson takes a step forward, effectively ending our conversation. "Too bad you didn't have any of those robots here with you," she trills, her voice dripped with scorn. "Maybe then taking over this island would've been more of a challenge than it actually was...though I'll take this victory as payback for the Archimedes."

Matthews' eye flares red with supposed anger. However, a subtle grip of the shoulder from his wife is enough for him to calm. "Enough mudslinging for crying out loud, where are our men you promised?"

"Not only that," Matthews mutters, "Your military, are they off the island?"

"Aside from the supply ship that's currently dropping off the material needed to fix the damage sustained in this settlement, yes they are." Replies Hansson. "In terms of your spies…Preserver, this is Hansson, you may proceed to dock."

The Preserver, once located a little ways outside the dock now began to pick up speed as it swiveled from forward to aft, securing itself in place without a hitch.

"Where's Antipatros?" inquires Admiral Hansson.

Matthews waves her off. "Give me my bloody men and women first, and then we'll move on."

Rolling her eyes, Hansson brings the communicuff to her mouth once more. "Bridge, bring them down ASAP; I'm tired of taking care of their well being."

A moment passes before trickles of people begin to disembark from the ship…not before a press crew quickly scrambles down the platform and begins filming everything.

"Look, it's Celosia Vale and the Admiral! Film Celosia, this'll be gold for the folks back home!" instructs the Capitol man as the cameras pan our way. We pay them no mind; instead we focus on the neutral space between us and the Australians while the prisoners are being unloaded. President Matthews and co. look absolutely disgusted…I can't really blame them unfortunately.

Lead by rifle-toting peacekeepers, men and women clad in grey jumpsuits make their way off the boat with their hands raised in the air. So these were the spies the news was squawking about during the Games… Upon closer inspection of our prisoners, their conditions were less than pleasant.

"Jesus wept…" murmurs Sister Nina, her arms outstretched as she begins to make her way towards the platform.

"Bloody hell…" the Australian man bellowed, pushing past his wife as she attempted to calm him down, "WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY MEN?!"

"'Seph please, the cameras…" his wife pleads as she follows after him.

It was a legitimate question. Some of them held crutches whilst others relied on their comrades for support. A woman shields her eyes as if she's seen the sun for the first time. One of them was carried out via a stretcher. The unlucky man's eyes were unfocused…as if he weren't even present. The Australian President kneels down towards the man, while his wife and Sister Nina caress his cheek. Matthews turns towards the rest of his subordinates, watching as they return his looks of surprise. Silently, the Admiral, our entourage and I watch as the Australian President claps the shoulders of his men and women, some of which return weak salutes. A woman nearly faints, but is caught by a compassionate Matthews and fellow 'prisoners'.

"What. Did you .Do!?" Matthews roars, spinning towards us. The Peacekeepers around us raise their rifles in unison, prompting Matthews' soldiers to do the same. Admiral Hansson appears bewildered, but clears her throat as her smug mask is back in place.

"…That man's condition was no one's fault but his own. The fool tried to down a poison capsule…play stupid games, win stupid prizes."

Glancing at the slightly older man, he looks like he wants to rip Hansson in half. Gentle coaxing from his wife is enough to get the man to back off, instead turning his attention back to his charges. As the last man is disembarked and marched off to what appears to be a medical tent a little ways past their helicopter, Admiral Hansson checks her communicuff – a tired expression plastering her face.

"You've gotten your rats; now send over Antipatros I don't have all day." She seethes, cocking her hips to the side.

Sister Nina juts a finger towards the Admiral. "You better take care of this boy."

"Don't you worry your head," Hansson trills. "Viondra was explicit in her instructions."

Matthews glances toward his wife, followed by Sister Nina who nods solemnly. Speaking into a walkie-talkie, Matthews and his entourage part ways – forming two lines as a young man emerges from the back of their helicopter. Upon seeing his silvery-hair and boyish features, I remember him now from the various parties hosted throughout the Capitol. He's a junior Gamemaker, only two or so years younger than I am…twenty-six or twenty-seven.

We watch as he turns towards a girl who accompanied him out that helicopter. With a few hushed words and a kiss he proceeds down the line, shaking the hands of Matthews, his wife and Sister Nina before glancing towards the Admiral and me. Sweet Panem, he looks like a mess. His pale skin was clammy and contrasted badly with the sunlight. The bags under his eyes showcase the understandable lack of sleep he'd gotten. I wouldn't be able to sleep either with the threat of avoxing or being thrown in the darkest hole Panem has to offer once we head back to the mainland.

Glamoure breaks the buffer and casually strides towards the young man, her hands clasped behind her back. "Ah, Antipatros…I see you've gotten acquainted with the locals."

"My name is not Antipatros anymore…" he says in an attempt of defiance…although it comes out very meek. "It's Andrews Thomas now."

"Hmph…too acquainted I see." Admiral Hansson quips, regarding the boy with scorn. "Your accent, your name…how could you as a Capitol get caught up with the likes of these peop-?"

"Because unlike us they believe in FREEDOM!" he yells, jutting a finger towards the Australian entourage. The Panemian entourage strides forward, but Matthews and his crew remain where they are. Glamoure continues to watch the boy passively.

"While we continue to stuff our mouths and continue on in our bubbles like nothing is going on, we send kids to the slaughter year by year! Look at YOU; with your blue eyes and blonde hair, you're from District 1. Figures, talking to you about this topic is like talking to a brick wall! Sure Kane is a good man, but there's few of him and many of people like you who will keep things going whilst putting down the people who want to do some good for our country!"

The Admiral gets in his face now, her hands still clasped behind her back as she leans toward his ear. "You have the body of a Capitol but the mind of a lower-district gutter rat! A lot of good peacekeepers got killed because of you, many more wounded too. Here we are, knee deep in the frays of lesser people because of your betrayal."

"What are you talking about?! What does Andrews have to do with that!?" shouts a confused and angered Matthews. Admiral Hansson ignores him, proceeding to activate her communicuff as she raises it towards her mouth.

"Hydra, this is Hansson. Prepare the tractor beam, we're heading home." She says while letting out a startled cry as Antipatros spins the woman to face him. His eyes are pleading with her, as the young man clutches her shoulders. Hansson glowers at the young man as if she were being accosted by a beggar or something…

"Please Admiral…leave me be. If you guys want to live your Pleasantville life with your fancy cars and doo-wop, then fine by me! I for one am tired of living in a privileged bubble! See that wonderful girl over there!? She's my girlfriend now, much better than the brainless Capitol women I've met. Look, Panem has won, the OPTUS satellite and its station were reduced to rubble, no one will know about Panemian happenings unless they can bear a grainy television reception. I'm not a 'Panemian' anymore, I'm an Australian – I'm free!" dropping to his knees now, he clasps his hands around hers in one final attempt to reason with the naval officer.

"Please, please let me be free. I want to be free…"

Completely silent, Admiral Hansson glances toward the Australians, then to us, then back to Antipatros. As her eyes lock with mine, all I can do is shrug. The guy isn't much of a threat. Apparently he leaked this year's Games to them, so what? If Matthews knows as far back as my Hunger Games then they know the bare minimum there is to know about Panem, nothing more nothing less. If he tries anything, I'm positive the Capitol has a network they can use to get him if they wanted.

…Besides, I'm kinda glad he told our story. On the other hand things are improving…Right now; the Hunger Games have been reduced to a nagging thought due to all the improvements in people's lives –besides the 95th Games of course. These people don't need to know Panem's business and they only know the bare minimum, again so what?

It seems that Glamoure has reached the same conclusion, turning around to face myself and the accompanying Peacekeepers. "Okay 'Andrews', I'll set you free. I'm sure the Capitol will understand…"

Antipatros' face lights up like a child's, letting out a shocked scoff as he swivels on his knees back towards the Australian entourage. All of them seem as well very shocked and relieved – Matthews, Nina, the wife and even Antipatros' gal has tears brimming in her eyes…That is, until their faces melt into expressions of anguish.

What's wrong…? Only until I shift my eyes to Admiral Hansson do I register the bluish flash that floods my vision and the loud shriek that followed.

As I gasp, my rifle tumbles out of my hands – only to be saved by its strap. I watch as Antipatros' body slumps to the floor face first with a hole the size of a grapefruit in his head – steam wafting out of the wound. Gone was the smile of joy on the young man's face, replaced with a shocked grimace and a blank stare – blood pooling around his head. Turning to Hansson I watch as she casually cleans the brain matter from off her face, flicking it to the floor with one hand whilst her plasma revolver continues to emit smoke.

Everything else reverts to autopilot. A young woman cries out, Sister Nina raises her hand longingly towards the corpse, the Peacekeepers and I level our rifles towards the beast of a President who activates a beam sword for crying out loud as he storms our way.

Before we could fire a bullet however, the tractor beam lifts us from danger. As the Hydra gunship continues to raise us into its loading bay I watch while Matthews and his crew rush towards the body, the Australian man kneeling before the dead boy and glancing upward. If looks could kill, we'd be dead fifty times over.

As I glance over toward Hansson who holsters her sidearm whilst wiping her face of excess blood, I realize that the Capitol is the same on the outside as it was on the in.