Read Mockingjay for Free Online Page B

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! Virtual y incorruptible." Plutarch sighs. "Oh, wel , 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 wil 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 ful ness of the sleeves that al ows 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 careful y 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. Wel , after the Quarter Quel announcement. A few weeks before the Games maybe? There are not only the sketches. We have your uniforms. Oh, and Beetee's got something real y 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 al along.
    "Our plan is to launch an Airtime Assault," says Plutarch. "To make a series of what we cal 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 essential y redesigned the underground network that transmits al the programming. He thinks there's a reasonable chance it can be done. Of course, we'l 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 pul 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 rebel ion? 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 that in mind, we have another little surprise for you. Come, come."
    Fulvia gives us a wave, and Gale and I fol ow her and Plutarch out into the hal .
    "So wel intended, and yet so insulting," Gale whispers in my ear.
    "Welcome to the Capitol," I mouth back. But Fulvia's words have no effect on me. I wrap my arms tightly around the sketchbook and al ow myself to feel hopeful. This must be the right decision. If Cinna wanted it.
    We board an elevator, and Plutarch checks his notes. "Let's see. It's Compartment Three-Nine-Oh-Eight."
    He presses a button marked 39 , but nothing happens.
    "You