"This doesn't have to be a fight," the leader replies mildly.
He has blue eyes, Carver remembers. They wore masks. They don't want to kill us yet. Not yet. But this man's hand is on his back now, tracing up the line of his spine and back down again and he shivers before he can think to hide it, fighting back revulsion.
"Besides, I think your boy here's a fast learner." There's a low chuckle. "Don't make me get creative, CO, or I really will slut him out. Make a little extra money on him."
It's a line. They won't risk it, Carver knows, it's just something to make them tense up and doubt each other. But he feels sick at the thought of it. Unable to move, afraid that the moment he tries to fight he's going to lose and Pope will see it.
no subject
He has blue eyes, Carver remembers. They wore masks. They don't want to kill us yet. Not yet. But this man's hand is on his back now, tracing up the line of his spine and back down again and he shivers before he can think to hide it, fighting back revulsion.
"Besides, I think your boy here's a fast learner." There's a low chuckle. "Don't make me get creative, CO, or I really will slut him out. Make a little extra money on him."
It's a line. They won't risk it, Carver knows, it's just something to make them tense up and doubt each other. But he feels sick at the thought of it. Unable to move, afraid that the moment he tries to fight he's going to lose and Pope will see it.