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creamed. "Beg
to be branded," he replied, touching me with the tip of the file.
"I beg you, I beg you!" I screamed, all but forgetting that
rescue was at hand. But I had to get him away from me, lest he
use me as a hostage.
I needn't have worried. As John stepped towards the propane
torch he'd brought, I yelled, "Roger!" John looked up, and an
amazing thing happened: Roger jumped him from above; he'd been
in the hayloft!
It wasn't really a fight; John was stunned by the impact. Roger
pushed him, roughly, towards the winch, slammed John into the
wall to immobilize him, and released me. He caught the crank so
he could lower me slowly to the floor. The keys had fallen from
John's pocket during all this; ignoring him for the moment, Roger
picked them up, walked over to me, and unlocked me.
John slowly rose to his feet. "I'm not done with you yet, bitch.
And don't try calling the cops; with this setup, I'll have no
trouble convincing any judge this wasn't just a game. And you
can't even afford to have this public; your precious business
would fall apart."
I was going to reply, and dare him to expose me. He didn't
really understand the situation. I, and my competitors, a
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