CHAPTER 22
THE WEAK CARD

BEX was itching to take a shower at the end of her second training day. She wiped the copious amount of sweat on her brow and took the elevator back to her room. The other tributes waiting down in the lobby faded into the size of ants. Nico had left a couple of minutes before Bex, seeing as the Gamemakers weren't exactly being strict with their training. She doubted that the Victors who hadn't shown were getting a slap on the wrist. Back when she was in the Games, they wouldn't have gotten off so easily.

Bex didn't think the Gamemakers even cared anymore. In a way, she didn't blame them. They already turned every single one of them into murderers. What could a little more training do?

When the elevator doors opened and revealed her spacious living quarters, Bex was greeted by Johanna's furrowed brow. She stood in front of Nico, who sat in one of the chairs at the dining table. They both turned to Bex as she stepped into the room. The elevator door shut behind her automatically.

"What's going on?" She asked suspiciously and approached them. Bex still kept her distance though, standing at the other end of the table.

In the kitchen, she noticed a mop of slicked-back blue curls slip away. Her nails pierced the inside of her palm.

Johanna opened her mouth to speak, but Nico was already muttering, "You're not going to like it."

The mentor bit back, "Thanks for the help."

"What won't I like?" Bex's grip on the chair in front of her went tight.

"Plutarch Heavensbee," Johanna said through clenched teeth. "He wants to meet with both of you. Now, preferably."

The two Victors shared a look.

"I just received a message from him before you two arrived," the mentor continued. "Seems urgent."

Bex lifted her chin. "We don't want to talk to him."

Nico shot her a glare and stood up. "That's not for you to decide, Bex."

"Fine, I don't want to talk to him. Better?" Her brow shot up. "He probably helped Snow come up with this idea for the Quarter Quell. And I think he's slimy. No way."

Johanna released a snort. "He's slimy?"

"Yes, slimy. As in, I don't trust him." Bex glanced at her District partner. "We're not going to meet him. He'll try to get in our heads and find our weaknesses, so he'll know what to throw at us in the arena."

"I think you two should give him a chance."

Bex's mouth dropped. "Johanna –"

"– And as your official mentor," Johanna's lips curled, "I'm forcing you to go."

Nico stood with hands up in surrender. "Fine with me." He walked over to a frozen Bex and began to haul her out of the living quarters. "I'm not the one that has a problem with it."

Johanna followed them to the elevator. "You'll be meeting him in a private section of the Training Center. Right above the gym."

"Got it, got it," Nico waved her off and continued to shove his partner forward.

Bex spun around to face him once the elevator doors slammed shut behind him. Her top lip curled viciously, but Nico was anything but scared. He looked at her with a blank expression. The elevator waited for someone to press a button. "I think I have a right to have a problem with this. Do you have any idea how conniving Gamemakers are? This is will go terribly wrong."

Nico continued to stare her, arms crossed over his chest.

Her brow furrowed. "Why aren't you saying anything?"

"I was waiting for you to finish," he replied, "so I could remind you, once again, that we are both Victors in this situation. Johanna is too. We all know what we're doing. We know how crafty Gamemakers are. Trust in Johanna's judgment, Bex."

He walked in front of her and pressed the button for the bottom floor. Bex's jaw went tight as she leaned against the wall, looking through the glass. She supposed Nico had a point, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. He stayed silent until the elevator dinged and the doors opened. "Let's go," he said calmly, as if he didn't just undermine her moments ago, and walked out of the elevator.

Instead of walking to the gymnasium, Nico and Bex headed for a private staircase that was blocked by two Peacekeepers. Upon arrival, they were allowed inside, and they traveled up the stairs in complete silence. Bex's eyes went wide once they reached the top. Chairs with fluffy cushions were scattered everywhere. A large TV projection sat at the end of the room, broadcasting statistics for each of the Victors. There was also a long buffet cart situated right at the entrance.

This wasn't just some private room. They were in the Gamemaker's apartment, overlooking the Training Center.

Plutarch sat in the middle of the room, leaning back in a pink chair with pillows made of faux fur. A tiny cup and plate sat in his large hands. He took a sip from the cup before getting to his feet, gesturing for them to walk over.

Bex wanted to scoff. She debated on grabbing Nico's hand and leaving. But he was already walking ahead of her, hand stretched out for Plutarch to take. He was really starting to bother her now. Her teeth began to grind together. But she swallowed down her pride and quickly followed behind.

"Thank you for coming," Plutarch said, looking to both of them with pale eyes.

When he shook Bex's hand, she could've sworn she was staring into Snow's beady irises. She had no doubt they could be the same person. They looked similar, except Plutarch didn't sport the same white beard. His face was puffier and shaved.

Plutarch had set up two chairs for them with a small table placed in the center. Bex's chair was a vivid lime green, while Nico's was a pale peach. On the table were two more small cups, similar to the one in Plutarch's hands, and they were filled with steaming black coffee. Nico took his gratefully and sipped. He then grabbed a few sugar packets from the tray in front of them and sprinkled them in. Bex didn't pick up her cup at all.

"You both had great training sessions today," Plutarch began. "Nico, I was really impressed by your work at the shelter-making station."

Nico sent him a tight-lipped smile. He may have trusted Johanna's judgment, but Bex could tell his guard was up. She hadn't seen him this attentive in years, not even when he was a mentor. "Thank you, sir," he replied evenly.

"And Bex, at the trident station – you showed Finnick Odair exactly what District Seven is made of." Plutarch took a sip of his coffee and wet his lips. "Makes me excited to see what you two will do in the private sessions tomorrow. Have any idea on what you'll be –"

Bex's brow pulled together. "Can we please cut to the chase?"

Nico slowly turned his head to her, looking at Bex as if she were mad. She was anything but. Plutarch lowered his cup.

"What?" She asked, narrowing her gaze. "Did you think we'd be naïve enough to think you didn't have a motive?"

Plutarch's stare didn't waver. "I thought we agreed to talk."

"So talk."

Nico rolled his eyes. He debated on leaving and escaping the embarrassment. Despite what he thought, Bex knew facing the situation head-on was the only way to get out of here with their tongues still in their mouths. Gamemakers favored the strong-willed, not the weak. She wouldn't play that card yet, and Nico shouldn't either.

After a long moment, the Gamemaker set his cup of coffee on the table, along with its tiny serving plate. "Can I ask you two a serious question?"

Their echoing silence was the only response he received.

"There's something happening all throughout Panem at the moment. I'm sure you've both felt it." He began, his leg bouncing with anticipation. "The rumblings of a revolution. Do you two know anything about that?"

Bex and Nico shared a look, but their mouths didn't move. She averted her eyes to every corner of the room. She expected to see cameras watching their every move. But they were truly alone with Plutarch. He could do anything to them and no one would know. Her heart jumped in her throat.

Perhaps, she should've played the weak card after all.

"Alright, fine. I'll talk." Plutarch laced his hands together, but his leg didn't stop moving. "Katniss Everdeen is the symbol of an upcoming rebellion. It began the moment she revealed those poison berries in the arena, where she attempted to defy President Snow for the last time. I mean, if a girl from District Twelve – of all places – can defy the Capitol, what's stopping the rest of Panem? Katniss is the people's mockingjay –"

Bex snapped, "And that is the point behind this year's Quarter Quell, right? Correct me if I'm wrong."

Nico exhaled, "Bex, please –"

"No, I want an answer. Am I wrong?" Her glare cut through the Gamemaker's cold façade. "You want all us former Victors to kill her and show that no Victor is safe. That's what you want."

The room came to a hush. Bex's stare wouldn't leave Plutarch's. Her jaw clenched tight and her eyes were wild with fury. She could feel her nails digging into her palms, creating tiny crescent moons into her skin, but she didn't stop. Not until he answered her. Hell hath no fury like a Victor scorned. Plutarch was going to learn what that truly meant if he didn't start talking.

He looked around the room, glancing down at the empty gymnasium below, before turning back to the two tributes.

And finally, he whispered, "I want you to protect her."

Bex leaned back then, caught off guard. Nico was frozen in place.

At their silence, Plutarch continued, "Not just you, but others too. I've been speaking to a multitude of tributes."

"Why?" Nico said, all too suddenly. "What does protecting our competitor give us?"

Plutarch paused for a moment, and then replied, "A better tomorrow. A possible way out."

Heartbreak, my dear, helps people grow. It helps them stay stronger, Snow once told her. It makes them hope for a better tomorrow.

Hope is the only thing stronger than fear. Katniss Everdeen was the rebellion's hope.

It all clicked in her head then. Bex blinked to make sure she wasn't dreaming. She even debated on pinching herself, but decided that might look a little weird in a public setting. After rubbing the bridge of her nose, Bex leaned in towards the Gamemaker.

"So what's your angle here?" She asked. Despite the terror and anger running through her veins, her voice was surprisingly relaxed. "We protect her and then what?"

Plutarch opened his mouth to reply, but she was already talking over him. "We all die so she can live. That's what happens." Bex tapped at her chin. "Then more people die in whatever rebellion takes place until – what? Panem explodes?"

The Gamemaker laughed, "You ask a lot of questions."

"And I need a lot more answers."

Their eyes connected, and he didn't look away for what seemed like hours. Bex noticed the crinkles under his eyes, the way his bushy brows twitched while his body gyrated with nerves. Nico licked his lips and sat back in the chair, waiting for the Gamemaker's next move. Finally, Plutarch got to his feet, dusting off his dark blue slacks.

He looked between the two of them. "All will be revealed in due time, but can I count on you both?"

So little information for such a big job. A revolution was truly upon them, and everyone had a role to play.

The Victors paused. Nico turned to glance at Bex, watching her expression contort. She didn't move, didn't even look at Plutarch. She simply stared at the floor, and then at Nico. He decided to take matters into his own hands. He was older, after all. He knew what he was doing.

Nico stood up and lifted his hand. Plutarch reached over to shake it, but someone was blocking his way.

Bex stood in front of Nico. She was a lot smaller than him, so she didn't provide much of a wall, but she stopped them from getting any closer. Nico sighed angrily behind her back. She still didn't move.

Scowling in the Gamemaker's direction, she hissed, "I want the Games to end."

"And they will –" Plutarch stated.

"No, not just these Games. All of them," she seethed. "I'm tired of the fake smiles. I'm tired of pleasuring you self-obsessed Capitol people. I'm tired of the contracts and threats against my family. I'm tired of seeing Nico here too scared to go outside. I want it all to end."

He lifted his chin, mouth formed in a tight line. His eyes scrutinized her, but Bex couldn't ignore that they seemed kind, even though they looked so alike to Snow's.

"I promise that I will help you, Bex Nassar." He said honestly, truthfully. "I swear to you, I will. I swear on my life."

She could hear the earnestness in his tone, but Bex refused to back down. "You Gamemakers have never lived too long."

"Then I will do what I can in the time I have left." A smile played at his lips. "Please. Help me and I will do everything in my power to end this."

Slowly, Bex turned to meet Nico's eyes over her shoulder. His stare was distant, full of silent nerves, but the nod he gave her said all she needed to know. She swallowed hard. Bex needed to learn to trust in people's judgment more, and this was the first step. A pretty big step, but one she needed to make now.

Bex reached her hand out. Plutarch glanced down at it with a smile, but her own frown did not waver. As their hands clasped together, she felt her whole future implode. With the Head Gamemaker leading the pack, this wasn't just a rebellion anymore. It was President Snow's worst fear.

This was a real war.

━━━━━━

A/N: ALRIGHT SO bex now knows about the rebellion, but plutarch purposefully isn't telling her much for the same reasons he never told katniss, but unlike her, bex isn't fully in the dark. bex is way too close to the capitol to know the full gist of the plan, but she does know a sliver of it and will protect katniss if it means the games will end for good.

I really liked playing with how much bex (and nico) could know, and then what others knew too. like johanna, for instance, won't know the full plan until the end of day 1 during the quell. that really isn't that big of a spoiler. this fact is only brought up in passing in a much later chapter, but I wanted to bring it up to how this story plays with withdrawing info at the right times. plutarch is incredibly calculative. I mean, this guy pulled a whole rebellion right under snow's nose??

anyways, thank you for reading and your constant support! 💞