It was raining. It was bucketing it down as well. My swept blond hair was saturated as I waited in the dark obscurity of the streetlight under the dim bus-stop on Milden Avenue. I heard some echoing footsteps. I hastily looked round, pulling the zip of my coat up to my chin to try and fend off the biting wind. I looked round and saw a big lumbering man, in a big black coat walking swiftly towards me. I knew who he was almost instantly, he was the man who I had scheduled to meet here to do our business and I knew this was the perfect place as it was under a weakening light-bulb and to some extent safeguarded from the gales. He walked up to me and pulled out a brown, leathery package from inside his large coat.
'Here yar then' , he said as if he spoke quicker than his wrinkled and worn mouth would allow him.
'Ta' I replied, softly placing the package into my pocket, as not to break it, 'Shall we go inside? They're looking forward to meeting a man such as yourself' I said exuberantly,
'Wha, a man wiv leprosy?' He asked menacingly
'No, no, not at all, I meant a businessman such as yourself, how you've coped with your leprosy is even more amazing', I said, wary of the man's large frame
'Oh, orite then, sorry for my mistake' he apologised
'No worries my friend, I'll lead the way' I lead him to a small terraced house with the windows boarded up and WARNING! No Admittance Without Gas Masks signs on the front door. I pushed the door open and breathed in a musky smell that made me and my companion sneeze. We walked through the dusty, dank hallway into a living area where 8 people were sitting around a wooden table that was far too small for the people sitting around it. I walked up to them unnoticed and threw the package that had been given to me down on the table. In fact, I threw the package down onto the table with such force, that a fresh cloud of dust emerged from the grimy table, sending all of my compatriots around the dining table into sneezing and coughing fits. When everyone had recomposed themselves I was the first one to speak;
'Here is the package you had asked me to get, and here is the man who brought me the package'
'Good work Danny, you've done well, now open the package! I don't want to soil my hands', said the man furthest away from me. He was the leader, called Aleksandr Klitchyinkov, he was Russian but spoke in perfect English, was very forceful and had many Russian associates who could kill me in an instant if he wanted it to happen. Thinking of this made me realise I had to do what I was told. I picked up the package and peeled of the sellotape that had sealed it down. I plunged my hand deep into the contents of the bag looking for the Marijuana that should've been placed in there but instead I found my hand come to contact with a ceramic like handle, I gripped onto the handle and gingerly pulled the object out of the bag, I looked into the palm of my hand and suddenly realised, this was no small-time crime industry, this what the big-league, in my hand was a gun...