“Stop right there, Vance,” I said.

He spun around, his boots slipping on the slick grass.

His eyes widened when he saw me standing in the shadow of the archway.

“Commander Carter,” he gasped, tucking the drive back into his coat. “You’re out of your depth.”

“I’ve spent fifteen years dealing with men who think they can outrun their debts,” I said.

He lunged to my left, trying to use his weight to push past me toward the idling sedan.

I stepped into his path, dropping my center of gravity.

I caught his right wrist, twisting it outward to lock his elbow.

He grunted, swinging his left fist toward my temple.

I ducked beneath the swing, feeling the wind of his sleeve brush my hair.

Using his own forward momentum, I drove my shoulder into his ribs and swept his left leg out from under him.

We hit the grass together, the air rushing out of his lungs in a sharp wheeze.

I pinned his arm behind his back, pressing my knee into his shoulder blade to immobilize him.

“The drive, Vance,” I said, my voice low and steady.