Once I bent him back until he seemed helpless, yet, by some trick, he wiggled free, and thrust me against the desk, its corner gouging into my side.

The pain gave me superhuman strength, and I swung him sideways, the two of us tripping over the chair, and coming down heavily on the deck.

By some luck I landed on top, and, before he recovered from the shock, had wrenched one arm free, locking my fingers in his throat.
He squirmed under me like an eel, but could not break the grip, his face purpling, until he lost all power.

Fierce as the battle had been I retained sufficient sense to loosen my death grip while the man still breathed, lifting my head sufficiently to glance about.

My own breath came in sobs, and the perspiration almost blinded me.
"Bring me something to tie him with," I said brokenly.