Victor rebellion, LAST: Beetee nods, reaches out, shakes the man’s hand. This is probably as long an interruption in audio signal as they should risk, given everything. Joe seems to understand, reaches up to close the window. Beetee turns the dial on his watch, switches off the jamming signal, and watches Joe head back to the crew compartment. Counts three minutes in his head before heading towards the common area to check on Eibhlin.
And since I think you've already seen that bit, here's a bonus scene from the non-victors pre-QQ one:
As it turns out, there’s a cargo train heading out of the Capitol for Eight a couple hours after the Arena is set to blow, and Sara’s pretty sure that’s no kinda coincidence. Why nobody’d already figured it was worth trying to slip Rokia out somehow is another question, and one she intends on bringing up—but not just yet. She checks the crew list, doesn’t know for sure they’re rebels, but Myriam is on that train, and Sara remembers her from her first year, a firecracker who’d almost gotten them in trouble for loitering by the loading docks in Ten. So it’s a good bet that if Myriam’s on that crew they’re not loyalists.
Now she just has to figure out how to pass the message. She thinks for a while, then picks up the radio and calls the Capitol barracks.
“Yeah,” Joe answers, clipped.
“Joe, it’s Sara,” she says, and they’ve made a habit of being friendly when they see each other, so stuff like this can slide under the radar as much as possible.
“What do you need, Sara?” He’s wary, and Sara knows he’s figuring she’s pissed off about Rokia. And she is, but it’s no use blowing up now, everything’s balanced on a knife edge and this is way too important.
She takes a deep breath. “My buddy Matt really likes that fancy Capitol coffee,” she says. Pauses. “And a friend of mine, Myriam, she’s gonna be heading out a couple days from now. Eight then Six, and I’m thinkin’ she won’t mind taking some along.”
Joe’s silent for a long moment. “You know I’m not supposed to do that,” he says.
Now Sara’s anger flares, because like she gives a fuck what he’s supposed to do. “Just a half-kilo,” she says, trying to keep from letting the anger seep into her voice. “Don’t think anybody’ll mind that.”
Joe sighs. Sara holds her breath. He knows what she’s talking about. If it’d really been coffee he’d’ve laughed and said just so long as it’s for personal use only, or just this once, or made fun of her for having expensive tastes. He knows what she’s asking.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he says, finally.
“Thanks,” Sara grits out. “Matt’ll be pissed otherwise.” And that, right there, is the truth. Matt doesn’t know about any of this, he’s got two kids and it’s too dangerous, but if he knew these guys were screwing with Rokia he’d be right there with Sara taking them to task.
Joe huffs. “Alright,” he says, “10-4” and the line cuts out.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-04-02 08:15 pm (UTC)Beetee nods, reaches out, shakes the man’s hand. This is probably as long an interruption in audio signal as they should risk, given everything. Joe seems to understand, reaches up to close the window. Beetee turns the dial on his watch, switches off the jamming signal, and watches Joe head back to the crew compartment. Counts three minutes in his head before heading towards the common area to check on Eibhlin.
And since I think you've already seen that bit, here's a bonus scene from the non-victors pre-QQ one:
As it turns out, there’s a cargo train heading out of the Capitol for Eight a couple hours after the Arena is set to blow, and Sara’s pretty sure that’s no kinda coincidence. Why nobody’d already figured it was worth trying to slip Rokia out somehow is another question, and one she intends on bringing up—but not just yet. She checks the crew list, doesn’t know for sure they’re rebels, but Myriam is on that train, and Sara remembers her from her first year, a firecracker who’d almost gotten them in trouble for loitering by the loading docks in Ten. So it’s a good bet that if Myriam’s on that crew they’re not loyalists.
Now she just has to figure out how to pass the message. She thinks for a while, then picks up the radio and calls the Capitol barracks.
“Yeah,” Joe answers, clipped.
“Joe, it’s Sara,” she says, and they’ve made a habit of being friendly when they see each other, so stuff like this can slide under the radar as much as possible.
“What do you need, Sara?” He’s wary, and Sara knows he’s figuring she’s pissed off about Rokia. And she is, but it’s no use blowing up now, everything’s balanced on a knife edge and this is way too important.
She takes a deep breath. “My buddy Matt really likes that fancy Capitol coffee,” she says. Pauses. “And a friend of mine, Myriam, she’s gonna be heading out a couple days from now. Eight then Six, and I’m thinkin’ she won’t mind taking some along.”
Joe’s silent for a long moment. “You know I’m not supposed to do that,” he says.
Now Sara’s anger flares, because like she gives a fuck what he’s supposed to do. “Just a half-kilo,” she says, trying to keep from letting the anger seep into her voice. “Don’t think anybody’ll mind that.”
Joe sighs. Sara holds her breath. He knows what she’s talking about. If it’d really been coffee he’d’ve laughed and said just so long as it’s for personal use only, or just this once, or made fun of her for having expensive tastes. He knows what she’s asking.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he says, finally.
“Thanks,” Sara grits out. “Matt’ll be pissed otherwise.” And that, right there, is the truth. Matt doesn’t know about any of this, he’s got two kids and it’s too dangerous, but if he knew these guys were screwing with Rokia he’d be right there with Sara taking them to task.
Joe huffs. “Alright,” he says, “10-4” and the line cuts out.