Read Mockingjay (The Final Book of The Hunger Games) for Free Online Page B

“I'll leave her in your hands, then, Plutarch.” She exits the room, followed by her team, leaving only Plutarch, Fulvia, Gale, and myself.
“Excellent. Excellent.” Plutarch sinks down, elbows on the table, rubbing his eyes. “You know what I miss? More than anything? Coffee. I ask you, would it be so unthinkable to have something to wash down the gruel and turnips?”
“We didn't think it would be quite so rigid here,” Fulvia explains to us as she massages Plutarch's shoulders. “Not in the higher ranks.”
“Or at least there'd be the option of a little side action,” says Plutarch. “I mean, even Twelve had a black market, right?”
“Yeah, the Hob,” says Gale. “It's where we traded.”
“There, you see? And look how moral you two are! Virtually incorruptible.” Plutarch sighs. “Oh, well, wars don't last forever. So, glad to have you on the team.” He reaches a hand out to the side, where Fulvia is already extending a large sketchbook bound in black leather. “You know in general what we're asking of you, Katniss. I'm aware you have mixed feelings about participating. I hope this will help.”
Plutarch slides the sketchbook across to me. For a moment, I look at it suspiciously. Then curiosity gets the better of me. I open the cover to find a picture of myself, standing straight and strong, in a black uniform. Only one person could have designed the outfit, at first glance utterly utilitarian, at second a work of art. The swoop of the helmet, the curve to the breastplate, the slight fullness of the sleeves that allows the white folds under the arms to show. In his hands, I am again a mockingjay.
“Cinna,” I whisper.
“Yes. He made me promise not to show you this book until you'd decided to be the Mockingjay on your own. Believe me, I was very tempted,” says Plutarch. “Go on. Flip through.”
I turn the pages slowly, seeing each detail of the uniform. The carefully tailored layers of body armor, the hidden weapons in the boots and belt, the special reinforcements over my heart. On the final page, under a sketch of my mockingjay pin, Cinna's written, I'm still betting on you.
“When did he...” My voice fails me.
“Let's see. Well, after the Quarter Quell announcement. A few weeks before the Games maybe? There are not only the sketches. We have your uniforms. Oh, and Beetee's got something really special waiting for you down in the armory. I won't spoil it by hinting,” says Plutarch.
“You're going to be the best-dressed rebel in history,” says Gale with a smile. Suddenly, I realize he's been holding out on me. Like Cinna, he's wanted me to make this decision all along.
“Our plan is to launch an Airtime Assault,” says Plutarch. “To make a series of what we call propos--which is short for 'propaganda spots'--featuring you, and broadcast them to the entire population of Panem.”
“How? The Capitol has sole control of the broadcasts,” says Gale.
“But we have Beetee. About ten years ago, he essentially redesigned the underground network that transmits all the programming. He thinks there's a reasonable chance it can be done. Of course, we'll need something to air. So, Katniss, the studio awaits your pleasure.” Plutarch turns to his assistant. “Fulvia?”
“Plutarch and I have been talking about how on earth we can pull this off. We think that it might be best to build you, our rebel leader, from the outside...in. That is to say, let's find the most stunning Mockingjay look possible, and then work your personality up to deserving it!” she says brightly.
“You already have her uniform,” says Gale.
“Yes, but is she scarred and bloody? Is she glowing with the fire of rebellion? Just how grimy can we make her without disgusting people? At any rate, she has to be something. I mean, obviously this”--Fulvia moves in on me quickly, framing my face with her hands--“won't cut it.” I jerk my head back reflexively but she's already busy gathering her things. “So, with