#ff:gunpoint

She didn't know what she'd do without Malcolm. Nobody seemed to understand just how much she needed to get out, to be a part of the front lines. It wasn't just about the fighting, it was about the people they lost, the ones they needed to get back. If somebody wanted to hear a reason, she had dozens to give them. It didn't matter how, because she was on the hovercraft, armed with a gun, just like she wanted to be. The doctors wouldn't be too happy about it, and the higher officers would probably have her head because of —and if it wasn't for— the baby in her belly. Six months in and it was still hard to tell. She'd sit back and focus on her health and pre-natal care soon enough. She just couldn't give up, not yet, not without really trying. 

Nine wasn't look so great anymore. The Capitol was fighting hard to keep it, their last stronghold in a resource district. Without food, they wouldn't be able to hold out for much longer, especially not through the winter. If all went well, the war would be over by February, or that was the hope. They had to secure District Nine if they wanted that to happen. They could hear gun fire the moment the craft landed, soldiers piling out. Intel suggested reinforcements, but that was a given. Their craft had landed just in time.

The soldiers already in place were holding back any advancement, but they needed to push the Capitol back. Splitting up the soldiers, one group was sent to the left and one to the right as they began to determine the perimeter. Lorelei followed a taller man into a seemingly quiet building, he going upstairs while she checked out the rooms downstairs. There was the sound of a scuff and she stilled herself carefully, listened to her surroundings. With a small adjustment of her grip on her gun, she rounded the corner with precision and speed, her rifle finding the forehead of the man she faced. She faulted for only a second, her hard expression falling until she blinked, cleared her mind and drew her lips into a hard line once more.