I always loved the Professionals and grew up with them, but then the New Professionals came along and I felt it ran alongside the original without stepping on any toes! I felt the characters needed some airing since they were very entertaining, so this is a fan fic to hopefully start the ball rolling! I do not profit from this and have returned the characters in good working order.

The storm had arrived earlier that evening without prior warning and by 9pm, large puddles of cold rainwater had accumulated in the numerous depressions and potholes that covered the pavements and roads. The driver of the Nissan 200SX sighed inwardly for the hundredth time, as he carefully navigated his car around the wet obstacle course. His day as usual, had been stressful and part of his attention was still focussed on matters back at the office, but his eyes were still keen and his senses alert as he attempted to locate a pub called, 'The Half Cocked' through the lashing rain. Narrowly missing a wheelie bin that had been blown into the road, he swerved violently and swore silently before noticing his destination looming up ahead.

The car park of 'The Half Cocked' pub was fairly full which considering the deprived area in which it was located, surprised him. He entered cautiously, attempting to avoid even more potholes and parked the Nissan safely away from other vehicles. Remembering to remove his 9mm Beretta from his shoulder holster, he stashed it securely in the glove box before opening his door and stepping straight into a black puddle. More silent expletives manifested in his mind, but due to the severity of the rain he had no time to linger so he slammed the door and, ensuring his car was locked and alarmed, ran effortlessly across the car park and through the door marked 'Lounge'.

Knocking rain water from his hair and off his leather jacket, he cast a professional eye around the room. One quick sweep was all he needed to get a good impression of the types of people who frequented this place. Another quick glance and he surreptitiously absorbed even more information. The room was large with a garish carpet and the rest of the décor looked decidedly tired. The bar was long with two middle aged staff serving, and the clientele consisted of 50 people, give or take, drinking or eating. There were two exits, the one he had just used to enter and another door which lead off to a corridor for toilets and the bar.

A few people looked up as he entered, but soon found him to be not worthy of further scrutiny and so turned their attention back to their drinks and conversations.

Looking deceivingly relaxed, the man's sharp eyes had already located the reason he was in this hell hole, sitting over at a corner table. The man he was here to meet must have had a sixth sense, because he looked up at that moment and signalled for him to come over.

He smoothly crossed over to the table and the man rose to meet him, offering his hand.

"Sam!" His face opened up into a broad smile "It's been a while; let me get you a drink!"

Sam Curtis, otherwise known as CI5 Agent 3.7 and ex MI6 operative, shook the proffered hand. "It's good to see you again, Gerry. I'll have a red wine, thanks."

Gerry Owens, also ex MI6, smiled again. "Same old Sam! When are you going to try a real drink?" He was still laughing as he made his way to the bar.

Sam watched him go and let the joke lie. It had always been the same between them, ever since they had worked together at MI6. Gerry, the heavy weight Geordie and Sam, the quiet, sophisticated Londoner. Subconsciously the CI5 man checked the cleanliness of the seat before sitting down. Gerry breezed back over and placed a glass of red liquid in front of Sam who, taking in the thick, cheap glass and light colour of the contents, grimaced slightly. Noticing Sam's reaction, Gerry said. "It's the house red. Should be good, cost me £5.00 a bloody glass!"

Sam's eyes widened theatrically. "Really, as much as that? Well in that case it must be a vintage!" He replied straight faced.

"You always were a sarcastic bugger!" Gerry said with no hint of malice.

Always polite, Sam took a sip of the red liquid, (he wouldn't call it wine) and somehow managed to swallow it without gagging.

Gerry meanwhile, had sat down opposite him and took a deep drink from his pint of bitter.

Sam put the offending glass down and noticed that Gerry still looked to be in very good shape. It had been almost 3 years since he had last seen him, and on that occasion they had been on a mission and Sam had very nearly been killed. It was Gerry Owens who'd killed the sniper before he'd had time to take Sam down.

"It's really good to see you again, Gerry, but perhaps now you can tell me why you wanted to see me, and why here?" Sam was intrigued.

Gerry looked at his former partner. "No small talk, just straight down to business, eh Sam? Is that the CI5 in you talking?"

Sam realised he was forcing the conversation and so smiled by way of an apology.

"No, Gerry. I'm your friend and it sounded important on the phone." Sam had an air of honesty about him that Gerry knew to be genuine.

Gerry rubbed his eyes and thought carefully about what he was going to say for a moment before speaking.

"I chose this place because it's anonymous. I am not known to frequent this area, so I thought it best."

Sam raised an inquisitive eyebrow but said nothing, allowing Gerry to continue.

"After you left Six, I remained there for another year. It was good in the main, but I was ready to leave when the time and opportunity finally presented themselves. I joined a private security firm, Anton securities, and worked undercover for them. The pay was a lot more and I was good at what I did, but they say your past can catch up with you, and mine came back with a vengeance!" He laughed, but there was no humour in it, and he took another large drink of his bitter.

Sam listened intently not wishing to interrupt, but prompted gently. "Which aspect of your past are you specifically referring to?"

Gerry continued in hushed tones.

"Do you remember one of the old six cases involving the Morris brothers and the building development in Docklands?"

Sam nodded thoughtfully. "Yes. They won a contract to build three office blocks and then used sub- standard materials, which resulted in the deaths of ten people when a building collapsed during construction."

Gerry nodded. "And they used every trick in the book to cover it up and got away with it. I couldn't believe all the effort we had put in was all for nothing!"

Sam's interest was piqued. "It was a very sad affair, but how is this relevant to me, Gerry?"

"A few months back, I was asked by one of the Anton bosses to covertly look into the case again because his nephew had been one of the victims. He'd known I'd worked on the original investigation and Stephen Anton wanted his nephew's killers exposed and so he put me in touch with some lawyers and reporters. MI6 had never spoken to these people and what I managed to dig up was pretty damaging to the Morris clan. I reported back to Stephen who told me he was going to blow this wide open."

Sam hoped fervently that Gerry wouldn't notice that he hadn't touched the 'wine' as he said, "When was this? I haven't heard anything about the case being reopened."

Gerry finished his drink and wiped his mouth. "This was a few months ago and you won't have heard anything because a short time later Stephen Anton was found dead , after a failed break in."

Sam nodded quietly. "And the reason you're telling me this is because nothing was taken in this 'break in' I presume?"

Gerry knew Sam would catch on fast. "Not a thing, just Stephen found shot dead at the bottom of his stairs. He didn't deserve that. He was silenced by the Morris's and now I think I'm being followed." He raised his hand to prevent Sam from interjecting. "Before you say anything, I am not being paranoid. I have done enough surveillance ops to know when I am being tailed!"

Sam believed him. "Ok, I wasn't going to question your judgement, Gerry. When did this start?"

"About three weeks ago, not long after Stephen was found. If they have the file I collated, then they know it was me who found all the necessary evidence to bring them down and I firmly believe if I make a wrong move, I'm a dead man."

Sam looked at his friend earnestly. "If what you say is true then you ought to go to the police with this. "

Gerry almost laughed.

"Go to the police? A great help they were. When I did my investigation, guess whose name cropped up a hell of a lot?"

Sam shook his head slightly.

"Chief Superintendent Ramsey."

Sam understood Gerry's sarcasm. That was a name he recognised. Ramsey was a senior Police Officer who had no time for any other counter- terrorism organisations and there were whispers that he was on the take, but nothing ever proven.

"It was my opinion that he withheld information and even derailed the case because he is in the pay of the Morris's."

Gerry watched Sam's face as it slowly dawned on him what he was being asked to do.

"That is a very serious allegation, Gerry. I hope you have the evidence before you go wading in."

Sam was always the thinker; the calm one. Gerry reminded him of his CI5 partner Chris Keel, charging in first and worrying about the consequences afterwards.

Gerry looked at him earnestly. "Now you see where you come in. With all the means of CI5 at your disposal, we can bypass the police and nail these bastards for good!"

Sam realised that he had to make Gerry see sense and fast.

"Whoa, slow down a minute, Gerry. I hear what you're saying but I can't just start my own investigation using CI5 muscle. For one thing it doesn't fall under our jurisdiction and for another you haven't met my boss, Harry Malone!"

Gerry looked crestfallen. "I thought you were a mate." He said a little more angrily than he intended.

Sam had to make him understand, but at the same time he understood there was a problem here that could turn nasty.

"Look, Gerry. I will ask around, see what I can do but I can't just wade into a situation on your say so!"

Gerry nodded quietly. "OK, Sam, thanks. Sorry to have dragged you out on a night like this, look after yourself." And with that he suddenly rose from the table and left like a speeding bullet before Sam could stop him.

Sam rushed out into the rain in time to see Gerry's car driving away at speed.

Cursing under his breath, he made a mental note of the registration number and thought how he could have handled that better, but standing in the pouring rain was not the best time to dwell on the matter.

As he turned to go, he was aware of another car pulling away and had the strangest feeling it had been observing him and Gerry.

Telling himself he was being paranoid, he returned to his car, retrieved his Beretta and sped off back home to his apartment. Once inside, he poured himself a proper glass of wine and put on some music. He removed his tie and undid his shirt collar before collapsing on the sofa. It really bothered him about what Gerry was saying. The Morris's were as corrupt and powerful as the Krays had been in the 60's and virtually untouchable. He then thought for a fleeting moment about asking Malone for help but he could just visualise his boss's face if he tried to suggest CI5's interference.

"Mr Curtis! I believe that last time I checked it was me who runs CI5, not you and when I want your input, I shall ask for it!"

No. Not a good move, Sam. Just get some sleep and sort it in the morning.