Of course not.

Mark ducked another swing and pulled farther back into the gloom. He was practically invisible in the basement dimness, but his opponent was nearly the same. Light from the basement hallway trickled onto her, outlining her just enough to allow him to see another swing coming. If she connected, she'd break at least two or three bones wherever she hit, and he'd be done.

He stepped into the space behind her swing and grabbed her arm with both hands, rolling it over and locking out her elbow so she couldn't swing it back in. She reached for it with her other arm and he let her get her hand almost onto it, then jerked it free of her loosening grip and throwing it into the dark. Immediately, she whipped her hand back and struck him across the temple. He reeled but hung onto her arm, rolling it back over and outside of him so he was inside her reach. He drove a fist into her stomach, as hard as he was able, and she retaliated by slamming her forehead into his temple again. His head spun again, the repeated pounding starting to affect him, but he slammed his fist home twice more, then swept her ankles out from under her. They both dropped heavily to the floor.

He immediately twisted his hip and she whipped her knee up towards his groin. He caught it on the outside of his hip and rolled on top of her, catching both arms by the elbows and pulling them up off the floor. He scrabbled his feet on the dirty floor and walked her trapped arms up over her head, crunching her body over on top of itself. She arched her back, flipping her legs back over so she lay on top of him, but her arms remained trapped and she couldn't hit him. He tugged them tighter and pushed her torso higher, arching her breasts harder to the ceiling, twisting her shoulders in their sockets. She gasped with the pain but continued to fight.

Mark gripped both arms with one of his and reached his other arm across her chest. Her breasts pressed into him, but he didn't let it distract him. Her jaw snapped at him as he pressed an arm across her throat, but her chin was tucked down across it. With a **** yank that nearly dislocated the woman's arm, he yanked her shoulders partway around, rolling her body back face down again and pulling himself on top. He wrapped his arm tight around her throat, finally, and hung on to her thrashing body until she slowed and dropped into unconsciousness. He finally released her, stood up, retrieved his baton, and thumped her on the back of the skull for good measure. Breathing hard, he stood over her still form.