I have begun to write a crime story set in the late 1940s/early 1950s (I haven't decided yet) set in London, and i'll probably leave the city sometime in one of the chapters and go to different English cities.Due to the nature of the story, it contains language, and will, at some point, probably contain more...'mature' themes like human trafficking and such. I will keep language and the heavier themes to a minimum, but you have been warned.It goes without saying; I do not endorse the activities I will write about and neither should anybody else. I add them simply for realism and also to extend the plot, or whatever. If you're offended with the themes I will/may touch upon, stop reading and go do something else. Also, if you're younger than the age of 13, I advise you don't read at all. So... on forth to the story? I stood beside my car on the London bridge leading to, well, London. Smoking a cigarrete, watching the cars zoom past me."Ugly city, isn't it?" said the man standing beside me. Johnson. That was his name.I blew air out of my nose and turned to look at him. The man dressed in a fedora and grey suit with black, polished shoes."Indeed it is. But so is the city I come from." I answered, "There isn't very much of a difference here.""Oh? And what city do you come from, Mr. Strudwick?" asked Johnson."Liverpool" I answered. "Shithole of a place.""Oh, I doubt that, Strudwick." he said, smirking. "The war just left it in bad shape, is all. Without the Germans and their stupid Blitz, it would be the perfect city"."Not for what we need." I said. "We need a sprawling, busy city. Not some port city up in the North West. No. We need a big city. We need a big population.""It draws attention to us easier." said Johnson. "We don't need this place. We need a quiet place.""No." I said. "London is just fine."I butted out my cigarette on the black car, and headed around to the boot. I opened it, and took out a briefcase. I undid the latches on it, revealing an assortment of pistols and melee weapons."What's that for?" asked Johnson."When we get to London, we need to take out competition." I explained."Ah. So we're taking out a small crime family? Work our way to the tops?" he asked."We're going for the Jernigans." I said."Stradwick, we can't do that." he said. "They're the biggest gang family in all of London. They have connections everywhere. Word gets out that we killed them - which it will - we'll have alot of trouble. We'll be dead within the week.""Exactly why i'm taking them out. I want to attract attention from Haul Argall. I want his connections to the other families and his..eh... empire, i'll call it." I explained, taking out a pistol and some rounds. "And for fuck's sake, stop calling me Stradwick. My name is Aydan."