"Pope," the leader muses, but something in Carver bares its teeth in defiance. Because they're deferring to Pope now, even in this small way. They're giving him power and they don't even realize.

"Well, I was just gonna have him get you off," the leader drawls, resting his palm flat against Carver's back. "But then you had to get all ambitious on us."

He taps his fingers against Carver's spine, tsking. "Get up there. Show your commander some appreciation."