The Professionals belongs to Brian Clemens and Mark 1 Productions. This is done for love, not money.

Doyle's back was pressed against the Fenchurch St station sign as he glanced frantically around. "Bodie?" he gasped.

In seconds, Bodie was beside him. "Any sign?" he asked.

Doyle shook his head furiously. "Nothing. Up here and then absolutely nothing."

"The guy said they were at the end of the platform." Bodie squinted past Doyle, trying to see through the row of pillars that obscured his view.

"Which platform, though?" Doyle demanded.

"How am I meant to know?"

"Come on, let's check it out." The pair sprinted down the platform, ignoring the bemused looks of waiting passengers, before being pulled up short at the ticket barrier.

Bodie pulled out his ID. "CI5, let us through."

The railway employee - 'Gavin' according to his name badge - blinked and absently rubbed at one of the many spots on his face. "You got a ticket?" he finally asked.

"We're not travelling - CI5," Bodie repeated impatiently.

"Just look at our authority," Doyle interrupted.

Gavin did so, with much squinting and running of forefinger along the lines. "That's not a ticket," he said, looking up.

"I know it's not a ticket. We're not travelling. Just let us through the bloody barrier!"

"Here!" Gavin's face twisted into a hideous parody of cunning. "You got to go through a barrier to get up here - how d'you do it without a ticket?"

Bodie and Doyle looked at each other, looked back at Gavin, then vaulted over the barrier. Paying no attention to either Gavin's outraged cries or the signs urging them walk carefully down the stairs, they continued their desperate run.

"There!"

With relief, Bodie followed Doyle's pointing arm. "Got 'em!"

But before they could reach their targets, their way was blocked by an angry mother, stressed father, screaming baby and a pushchair that dwarfed the Capri. In the elaborate dance it took to get past the family - decorated with swearing, bruised shins, outraged screeches from mother and baby and wearily envious looks from the father - Bodie and Doyle momentarily lost sight of their objective but soon they were freed and running again.

They slammed through the obstructing doorway, short of breath and pouring their last ounce of energy into finishing the chase, before sliding to a rapid halt in horrified disbelief.

"Oh, no," Bodie groaned, leaning back against the door. Doyle was less restrained and delivered the wall a hefty kick.

In front of them was a long queue for the only urinal in working order.

-- THE END --