A Game Of Justice ✭ Cato Hadley

Fourteen - See You Again (Fast And Furious' Version)

Three knocks on the door, in a specific pattern, alerts the guards to the presence of a high up District Thirteen official. They all straighten their backs, standing up straight as they watch the door slide open, and even Clio lifts her head to see an official, dressed in the usual grey jumpsuit but covered in basic base plates of armour, stride through.

"Doyle, I need to speak with you. Miss Kentwell's presence has been requested." He calls out.

Doyle? Clio thinks to herself, wondering who Doyle is before Guard One approaches the official. Guard One is Doyle. They speak for a short while, their tones hushed, before the official leaves and Guard One throws Clio's very own jumpsuit onto the end of the bed.

"Get dressed." He orders, and Guard Three and Four hastily unlock the chains to allow her to move.

She quickly shed the grey cotton shorts and t-shirt that they issued her and puts on the ugliest uniform in the entirety of Panem. "Why am I being dragged out already?" Clio asks Guard One – Doyle. "You haven't let me do my morning workout."

"President Coin has requested your presence in a meeting."

Clio sits back down on the edge of her bed, savouring the rare seconds without chains that only happen when she changes, showers or exercises. She shakes her head. "No. I don't go to those meetings."

"Miss Kentwell, you have been specifically requested."

"I still don't go." She reiterates. "That woman hates my guts, so she's probably calling me in to set my execution date for being rude to her. Sorry for not wanting to go to that, I'd rather not know."

"Miss Kentwell–"

"You make me sound so old." Clio cringes. "I'm eighteen, not eighty."

Guard Four looks shocked. "You're... only eighteen? I thought you were older."

Clio scoffs. "I take offence to that, you know. I won at sixteen two years ago which makes me eighteen now. Even I can do that maths."

"I just–"

"Bell." Guard One interrupts him, and Clio learns a second of her guards' names; a second one that she'll inevitably forget come tomorrow morning. Guard Four instantly stops talking. "Enough, we're to get Miss Kentwell to the meeting. There are conditions she has to meet."

"Well now I'm definitely not going." Clio laughs, leaning back on the bed in defiance – they aren't just going to grab her and pull her to this mystery meeting.

Guard Three does exactly what she thought they wouldn't. He wraps his hands around Clio's ankles and pulls her closer to the edge. "Your wish has been granted."

"That would've been kinky if it wasn't you." Clio laughs before her face scrunches up in confusion. "What wish? I can go home?"

"No."

"Cato's alive?"

"Also no."

"Gale's dead?"

"Miss Kentwell–"

Guard Three cuts off his superior. "Come along to the meeting and you can find out."

"Fine." Clio rolls her eyes and allows the guards to rechain her, offering up her wrists. Three and Four quickly resume their duties and secure the chains around her wrists and her ankles before they're dragging her out of her room.

She's pulled through the quarters that they've allocated to the victors, Guards One and Two at the front and setting a fast enough pace that Clio is almost running in order to keep up with them. They reach a conference room similar to the one that she was shoved into when she first arrived in District Thirteen several months ago and Guard One – Doyle, she keeps having to remind herself that his name is Doyle – turns to her.