SABRE is now behind BARCLAY, stabbing her SWORD into the burning deck.
BARCLAY is vainly trying to free his leg.
1. SABRE: I must say, ‘friend Barclay’…
SABRE has crouched, hooking BARCLAY beneath each armpit and pulling.
2. SABRE: …your employer does not seem long on loyalty.
3. SABRE: Now with a pull and all your might—
On BARCLAY and SABRE, straining with all their might. FLAMES climbing around them. They’re sweating.
4. SABRE: —nhhHHH!!
5. BARCLAY: hNNHGGGHHH!!!