NOTES: For last season's prompt battle at M/M, here is a crossover with The Hunger Games.
No pairings, one-shot drabble, Britta/Jeff friendship.
Jeffrey Winger had dedicated the last ten years to getting a spot in the power structure of the Hunger Games. All his family connections and all his training had worked toward one purpose: getting into the Gamemaker's personal staff. Now, at thirty three, he was a deputy for Seneca Crane.
That put him in the perfect position to save of life of an eighteen year old girl from District Four, name of Annie Edison.
The project was complicated, not the least because Seneca was a power-hungry assmonger who was far too close to the President. Recruiting him was out of the question, but the man's eagerness to succeed meant he could be subtly manipulated. At the same time, his unpopularity with his immediate staff mean that Jeff could recruit a few aides to his cause. He chose two women, a tech named Britta Perry and a promotions designer called Shirley Bennett. Each came with a price.
Britta wanted to stage their diversion in such a way that it would ruin the arena and the current control room, making this version of the games all the more embarrassing for the Capitol's brass. A secret dissident, Britta scouted him out before he even knew he needed her, and Jeff was relieved beyond belief to realize he wasn't alone in his mission.
Shirley's demand was far more costly: if he wanted to save Edison, he had to save Troy Barnes and Abed Nadir as well. Jeff didn't know them, and didn't particularly care if they died horrible, brutal deaths in the Games. But if he could fake one death he could fake three deaths, and without Shirley's help, the target would likely die before they could even get to her.
"Why do you want to save this one girl, anyway?" asked Britta on the roof of the training tower. It was one of the few places Jeff felt sure he wasn't under surveillance.
"I owe her grandfather my life," he replied, gripping the edge of the roof and examining their view of the Capitol. "And I want our dear president to feel what it's like to lose something precious to him. If it's three precious things, more the better."
Britta shook her head, the blue streak in her hair appearing brown in the low lit ambiance. "You know we're all going to die, right? You, me, and definitely the tributes."
"Of course." He dug out a cigarette and lit it, offering one to Britta. "I really, really hate this city."