"Well done, Nigel" grimaced Gerald Sinclair. He sipped his scotch as his man hoisted the unconscious blonde reporter over the shoulder.
"You stock the good stuff, Miss Meadows. I should stop by for a drink more often," chuckled Sinclair. Dawn's stocking bearing legs swayed in front of the goon's chest as she hung limply.
"Sorry about the uncouth treatment by Nigel. He can be a bit of a gorilla. But honestly, Dawn. It looked for a moment like you were going to greet me with that dreadful baseball bat!" Sinclair victoriously sipped his self poured drink.