Patrick Donaghue closed down the program he had been working on, feeling really pleased with himself and his gang. This job had gone off without a hitch.
With his hands on the back of his head, he leaned back as he enjoyed thinking about what they had managed to do. The target had been a company whose directors had decided to move valuable items off shore, in order to be able to plead a lack of finances in an upcoming court case – a case between them and some of their workers that had been harmed because those same directors had chosen to skimp on safety procedures.
Pat smirked. And now those lovely things – gold, jewellery, art and other stuff – were now in his gang’s possession. Along with a nice bit of the directors’ personal bank accounts. It wasn’t their usual type of target but seeing as he knew some of the workers that had been harmed, sons and daughters of old family friends, that had made it sort of personal. That and the fact that he had found out – through his connections – that the case’s judge would rule in favour of the directors, because he had been bought. He might be a crook but he had standards he lived by and something like that rubbed his sense of justice the wrong way.
His eyes returned to the screen;
getting into the bank accounts hadn’t been demanding. Getting into the security
company’s armoured van monitoring system had, and that
Maybe he should think about how to crack SAAV’s watchdog program; it might come in handy one day. However, there were easier ways to obtain money from the banks and such than stealing armoured vans, and there was the hassle of getting rid of the van afterwards. At lease the one they had stolen was now a burnt out shell at the bottom of an old, water filled, quarry pit. Good luck to the police getting any forensic evidence from it, yet alone finding it. His lads had done a good job of tidying up the loose ends.
As for the goods, the most recognizable bits would go into long time storage, although some of it his associates were willing to take. The less recognizable, they would sell the usual way. The in-between would be altered somehow, then would be sold. With all that, even with what he had transferred from the bank accounts, the profit from the job wasn’t going to be up there, like some of the other jobs they had pulled off. Still, it was going to be a nice few millions or so and those directors were not going to achieve their objective. Well, not in the way they had wanted.
With a sense of satisfaction, Pat gently swung in his chair. The feeling occurring because, while he played around with the directors’ accounts, he made sure that the company would still stay in business. It wouldn’t do for its workers to face any hardship because of what he had done. Now he just needed to work out how to past on the money that should have been the compensation to the injured workers and all would be done. Heck, if he didn’t, then he would be just like those despicable directors and he wouldn’t be happy with himself. Not that he wanted to be like Robin Hood or anything like that, but friends of the family had been involved and he found that he could not sit back and just watch. It also had the benefit of testing and enhancing the skills of his men, not to mention probably causing headaches for the police.
All in all, not a bad piece of work.
Pat looked out the window; the buildings across the road lit by the sun and a bit of blue sky showed that day had become fine and far too nice to stay inside; besides, he was starting to feel a bit peckish.
Time for a change of scenery. Putting action to thought, he shut down his computer grabbed a coat and left his office heading for the street.
The hustle and bustle of the street was another world from his office and he felt the tension he had been feeling, from focusing on the job, fall away as he walked to an eatery he liked. The coolness of the air was invigorating and he couldn’t help but start to quietly hum to himself an old Irish song.
He abruptly stopped when he saw three youths harassing a couple that had set up a stall in a small park. Anger ran through him, along with the realization that he knew two of the perpetrators. With determination, Pat swiftly moved toward the young men, grabbed the leader by his shoulder and spun him around.
“That’s enough!” he growled into the young man’s ear. “You know who I am and what could happen if you annoy me.” He fixed the lad with a stern stare as he waited for an answer, only to get a very small nod. “Good. Now I advise that you and your lackeys disappear as fast as you can.” And with that, he released the shoulder with a small shove and watched as the three hooligans swiftly fled.
Once they were out of sight, Pat turned back to the two people who were managing the stall.
“Well that’s them gone. Isn’t it sad when you can’t run a simple business without being harass these days?” he said with a smile and a shrug. “What are you selling that got them interested in you in the first place?” he asked, intently observing them as he did so.
They were a man and a woman. The man, Pat thought, seemed to be older than he was, with light brown hair and hazel eyes. He was dressed in a nice navy blue polo shirt, with sport trousers to match and blazer. That made Pat think that he might be some type of sportsman. He wasn’t overly muscled but you could tell he wouldn’t be a slouch if it came to a fight. So why those twits decided to hassle these two Pat had no idea. It did however show what little they had in the way of brain cells.
However, it was the woman that caught and held Pat’s attention. Tall, shapely, she also had an air of athleticism about her. Her blond – to him the colour of ripe wheat – hair was cut in a way that framed her lovely face beautifully. The slightly darker eyebrows and lashers set off her light brown eyes and he thought that her nose was rather cute. Her clothes, like the man’s, gave the hint of her being a sportsperson but were of better quality. Pat found himself intrigued by this young woman, in a way no other lady had in a long time.
“Thank you for stepping in,” she said, her voice sounding like music in his ears. “We were thinking of calling the police but they can take so long to arrive, it might have made things worse.”
“It was an awkward situation,” the man added. “We are here to try and build connections with young men like that, not to fight with them.”
“Oh?” Pat queried, inviting more information as he wondered what the man meant.
“We’re looking at helping the youth around here to get into sports if they want to.” The man held out his right hand for Pat to shake. “I’m Jack. Jack Breen. And you are?”
Pat was in a bit of a dilemma; his name and reputation wasn’t unknown in the neighbourhood, and he wasn’t sure about how they would react once they knew who he was. He didn’t want the lady to think badly of him as he really wanted to get to know her if he could. So he lied, replying, “Pat Donavan.”
“I would like to add my thanks to that of Susan’s, Mr Donavan,” Jack stated. “You ended a difficult situation for us. I was in quandary on how to end it myself. As I said, we want to connect with the youth, not become their enemies.”
“I can understand that,” Pat said.
“I would like to know why that young man and his friends were so quick to depart for you, Mr Donavan?” Susan enquired.
“I know his father,” Pat replied.
“Ah. Well that was lucky for us,” Susan said with an appreciative smile.
That smile reinforced Pat’s desire to get to know Susan better and he realized the only way to find out more about her was to continue to talk with them. So, with that in mind, he started to enquire about what they were doing.
As they talked Pat couldn’t help but be impressed with what they were hoping to accomplish. To his happiness, he also found out that Jack was Susan’s brother and that she was single and free.
He couldn’t help but smile inwardly. The pursuit was on.
Two weeks had passed since Pat had started his campaign to entice Susan to go out with him. However, he soon realized that it wasn’t going to be easy. She was a lady of focus and for the moment, her focus was on helping her brother.
Which meant that if he wanted to be around her, he had to help as well.
So for a few hours on a Tuesday afternoon and a couple on Saturday morning, he found himself along with some others in a school hall, organizing a lot of twelve to eighteen year olds into their sport teams, helping out with the coaching and the transporting to their games. It was an interesting experience and one he found challenging physically; that made him realize that he probably spent far too much time behind a computer.
Nonetheless, after another couple of weeks, Susan finally agreed to go out with him, and Pat felt the same kind of satisfying sensation he got after completing a complex computer program. This date was going to take some thought; he didn’t want to be to over the top, yet he did want to show Susan that he was a man of means. How to do so? Now that was the question.
In the end, he decided on picking her up in a classic car, then take her for a drive to Central Park. There they could enjoy a ride around the park in a horse drawn carriage. That would be followed by dinner at ‘The Roaring Fifties’, a new restaurant in the old Chrysler Building, and then they would go to watch ‘My high heels are killing me’ on Broadway. Which, Pat discovered by careful questioning of Jack, he knew Susan wanted to see.
After that… Well, that would be up to Susan. Pat wasn’t going to push this relationship; it wasn’t the same as the other casual ones he had had up until recently. No, this one had the feel of being something special. How it would turn out he had no idea, but he was happy to go along for the ride.
Their first date had been a success; Susan had been impressed but not overwhelmed and it paved the way for other outings.
Not that they had been able to go out often, the running of his gang took a fair bit of Pat’s time and Susan was very busy helping her brother run his charity. That dedication was one of the many things Pat loved about Susan.
As the weeks passed, Pat truly enjoyed the time spent with Susan. Sometimes they played at being tourists, visiting sites like the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building and so on. Other times, they would leave the city altogether and escaped to Rhinebeck, Hyde Park, Cold Spring and even Philadelphia.
However, there was always the worry in the back of his mind of what Susan’s reaction would be when she would learn who he really was. Along with that was the question of how and when it would be the best time to tell her. He didn’t know how, but he did know that if he wanted things to go further, he had to tell her one day.
But was she really the one? He thought so, and yet, his chosen ‘career’ was putting a big question mark over the long term viability of their relationship. Did she like, or even love him enough to accept it?
He had to admit, he also enjoyed being a helper in Jack’s project. Seeing the effect, it had on the young people who participated to it made him want to make sure that it would carry on. So he used his influence to create a financial fund, so that Jack could continue to run his program for as long as he wanted to. He also gave Jack some of his own money in order to buy new vans and such.
“Oh, Pat! You’re such an angel, helping out the way you have and then being so generous with your donation!” Susan had said to him after finding out about his gift, which caused Pat a bit embarrassment. “Maybe I should thank that annoying young man for causing us to meet.”
The kiss and the enthusiastic embrace that came with her thanks made him feel something altogether different.
It was less than a week until Christmas, and Pat was almost skipping in happiness as, after a good talk with Jack and fair bit of organizing, he had come up with the best Christmas present for Susan. Now he was on his way to her condo to make sure that she would keep Christmas Eve free.
Stepping out of the lift into the lobby that served the condos on her floor, he moved to her door and knocked. He didn’t have to wait too long before she opened the door and he was a bit surprised to see her smile disappear when she looked at him.
Hmmm, what might she be annoyed about? he wondered.
“Don’t stay standing out there, come in quick,” Susan said as she moved aside so that Pat could enter. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m coming to see you,” he answered. “What’s wrong with that? You know how I like to surprise you.”
“Yes, you certainly like to do that,” she stated with a hint of anger in her voice. “I do wonder what other surprises you have, that I don’t know about,” she added as she walked further into the living area, turning her back on him. “Do you know who else has visited me, Pat?”
“Ah, no,” he answered with worry rising in his mind. Who could it have been? He hoped it hadn’t been one of his business rivals. He had been so careful to keep their relationship as discreet as possible. He certainly hadn’t wanted to make her a target.
“The police, Pat. The police came to see me.”
“Do you know how I felt?” she asked, her voice hard, intense and laced with displeasure. As she turned back to face him, Pat could see anger, betrayal and a touch of disbelief in her face. “Having them tell me exactly who you are? Learning that I didn’t even know your real name? Do I really know who you are, Mr Donavan… or should I say Donaghue? Not only did I learn that, but I also found out that you are not the successful retail businessman you portray.” With anger in her eyes, she fixed him with a stare. “Were they lying, or are you really the boss of a criminal gang?”
How in heck did the police find out about him and Susan? And what were they hoping to achieve in telling her about him? Could they be trying to get something on him? There might be recording devices nearby; he thought he’d better be careful in how he answered her. “Well, it looks like you believe them, so I guess it doesn’t matter what I could say. You’ve already made up your mind.”
“So it is true.” The hurt was obvious by the sound of her voice. “And what about the money that you have given our children’s foundation? Was it a way for you to get rid of your ill-gotten gains?” Distraught, Susan sat down heavily in a nearby chair.
Pat started to move, to be closer to her; he wanted to lessen her distress, to try and make things right, to show that he really cared for her. However, she raised a hand, palm facing him, warning him to stay where he was. Still, he could try to reassure her about the money. “No. It came from law-abiding businesses, Susan.” He wished he could convince her that he wasn’t the person that she now thought he was. “The police always make things out to be worse than what they really are. I would never do anything that could end up harming you or anyone around you. You mean too much to me.”
“Do I?” she spat angrily. “Or was I just an easy pick up for you? From what I’ve been told, I’m not the first.”
“Hey, that’s a lie,” he interjected. “Okay, I have had female company before, but not like you. I never put in as much effort to impress them as I have done for you. You’re special to me.”
“Ha, do you think I can really believe that?” she scornfully replied. “After all, our whole relationship’s been based on lies. Let’s face it, Pat, you are not who I thought you were. And not only that, but you could have wrecked Jack’s and my reputations! How do you think the families of some of the kids we help would react if they found out that one of our supporters was a gang leader in the mob? They would probably think that we wanted to lead their children down that path.” She stood up and began to pace, gesticulating as she did so. “Hell, Pat, you could have destroyed all Jack’s worked for! How could you do that to us? Heck, you probably have no real idea how much hard work we’ve put into this. I doubt you’ve thought about it, yet alone realize how important it is to us. No,” she added with a shake of her head, “thinking about what I now know, I guess you thought that I would be just another dumb blond that you could manipulate just like you do everybody else.”
“What?” That statement startled Pat. “Now, that’s not true! I’ve never thought of you that way. You knocked for a six the first time I saw you. I will admit that I was worried about what you might think of me, which is why I gave you the name that I did.” he lifted his hands, palms up before him. “But I really wanted to get to know you. And the more I did, the more I respected and desired you. Knowing you, being with you, made me think about things, Susan.”
“Oh, really?” Susan retorted sarcastically, folding her arms and glaring at him. “And is that supposed to excuse what you’ve done? The lies you let us believe? Or are you going to deny that you are a criminal, that you have stolen millions, organized illegal activities and threatened people, maybe even killed some?”
“I’ve never killed anyone,” he snapped back.
“Well, in that case, what about the rest?” she demanded.
What could Pat say? He was all she said he was, did all those things, but in no way was he going to confirm that to Susan or to anyone else. So he just shrugged, even though his heart was breaking.
“As I’ve said before,” he quietly replied, “you already believe what the police have told you. So there’s nothing I can say that will change your mind about me.” He looked sadly at her before shaking his head and moving his gaze to the floor. “For what’s it worth, I am really sorry for upsetting you so much. This isn’t what I wanted and I am miserable to know that you think so poorly of me.” He returned his gaze to her. “I guess this is goodbye then, as I have a feeling that you don’t want anything more to do with me, now that you think you know the truth about me.”
“What do you expect?” Susan responded angrily. “You haven’t denied those things the police’s told me about you, have you?”
All Pat could do was to shrug once again. His silent admittance of her accusations seemed to infuriate her.
“Get out, Pat!” she yelled. “And you’re right, I don’t want to see you ever again. And don’t you dare come back to help out, either. I never want to see your face!”
There was nothing Pat could do in the face of her anger. So he turned around, walked to the door, took hold of its handle and opened it. He didn’t look over his shoulder as, his heart heavy, he addressed the woman behind him one last time: “I am really sorry, Susan, for the distress I’ve caused you. Believe me, I never wanted to hurt you, because you know… I really liked you, even if you find it hard to believe.” His heart felt very heavy, and he nearly turned around to look at her one last time. No. If he was to face her again, it would hurt even more.
His voice caught in his throat when he reached for the doorknob. “Slan, Susan… I wish you well. I hope that one day, you’ll forgive me.”
And with that, he stepped through the doorway, closing the door behind him.
Pat sat at his desk angry and disheartened. Susan’s rejection had hurt far more than he thought it would and he keenly felt the lost. Still, he had one thing to look forward to. It had taken a few days, but now he knew who it was that had tipped off the police about his girlfriend, and now that person was going to get his comeuppance. The phone calls had been made, the necessary formalities had been seen to and soon he would never have to see that person again. But first, that person needed to find out that his actions had consequences and Pat couldn’t wait to inform him what it would be.
With his middle left hand finger; he pushed down a button by his key broad.
“Michael, you can send in Mr Neelsen, now.”
He sat back, linked his fingers in front of him and set a harsh look on his face. Very soon his door opened and a tallish, black-haired, brown eyed, moustached man stepped through. He was followed by Robert “Ox” Oxbury, the gang’s enforcer, who stayed standing by the door.
“You wanted to see me, Mr Donaghue?” the moustached man asked.
“Ah, Scott. Yes, I did. And do you know why?” Pat replied.
“No, sir. I can’t say that I do,” Scott answered.
Pat leaned forward; he could see the nervousness that Scott Neelsen was trying to hide, and he fixed the man with an unforgiving stare. “Are you sure about that? Am I to believe that you had nothing to do with the police getting a piece of information that they should not have known about? Do you think I’m that stupid, mister?”
Pat wasn’t surprised that Scott wouldn’t look at him; but he did notice the quick glance to Ox, standing by the door.
“But I wonder if you are,” Pat continued. “Did you forget how good I am with computers, Scott? It turned out to be easy to find the e-mails and text you sent, even though they were not many. I just knew it had to be someone inside, as I was very careful to keep my interest in Susan a secret. Oh, some of the other guys knew I was seeing someone, but not who that someone was. You did though, having been my driver for one of our dates.” With a single shake of his head, he added, “I’ll admit that I’m not surprised that it was you. But I do have to ask: why did you do it? You had no need, no reason to give the police that information. Or did you?” He stood up and moved to lean lightly against the side of his desk, folding his arms as he did so. “Go on. Tell me why you talked to the police.”
“I had no choice,” Scott answered with a slight tremble in his voice. “I would have ended up in jail otherwise.”
His answer caused Pat to frown. “How? They shouldn’t have anything that they can pin on you. I make sure of that for all of you when we do jobs.”
“Yeah, well….” The tremble in Scott’s voice was more noticeable now, and there was a wet sheen on his brow. “They do have something against me.” He raised a hand, seeing Pat about to protest. “But it’s not anything connected with you or this gang, Mr Donaghue.”
Pat straightened up suddenly. “You didn’t go and help that group after I told you not to?” He saw Scott make a small nod. “Then you are more of an idiot than I thought.” Abruptly, he returned to the back of his desk, sat down, opened a drawer and took out a gun, a piece cloth and some bullets. After placing the bullets on the desk’s top, he started to check and clean the gun. “You still shouldn’t have told them anything, Scott. No-one likes an informer, especially me.”
Scott blanched. “But…”
Pat threw up a hand. “Stop! Nothing you can say will change what is going to happen to you. You overstepped the mark and now you will face the consequence of your action.” With melodramatic flair, he checked the firing chamber of his gun. “I do have a bit of good news for you. Because of where you are going, you are not going to have to worry about the police here anymore.” Still concentrating on his gun, Pat picked up the bullets and slowly loaded it. “I did think about letting you go to jail and informing those already inside about what you had done. However, I considered that wouldn’t be punishment enough. So I’ve decided that you will disappear.” He looked back up to Scott, who he noted looked very pale.
“Please Mr Dona –” Scott stopped abruptly as Pat pointed the gun at him.
“Didn’t I say that nothing you can say will change what I’ve decided to do to you?” Pat growled. “Now, Ox and you are going to walk out of my office. Once you’re out, Mr Brunton will join you. Then the three of you will head to the airport, where you will board a plane to South Africa. You are being transferred, Mr Neelsen. Be thankful that Mr Templar, the head of a fellow syndicate there, is willing to have you. But don’t be fooled: he knows all about you and you are going to be watched. Put one toe out of line, Scott, and you really will find yourself six feet under.”
Pat put down the gun, opened another drawer and got out a wide band. Then he went and stood in front of Scott.
“Raise your right arm.”
Scott did so and, swiftly; Pat wrapped the band around Scott’s wrist.
“This is a little bit of insurance,” Pat said. “If you decide to get yourself lost on the way, it will help us track you down. It also has a nasty surprise if you do get yourself lost or even try to take it off. Now, get out of my sight.”
As Ox started to escort Scott out, Pat suddenly called after him:
“Oh, by the way, Scott: do realize that you’ll be going with nothing but the clothes you’re wearing. You’ll be totally dependent on Mr Templar generosity, so you better watch yourself. So long, Scott, and may you never forget what an idiot you are.”
As the door closed on the two departing men, Pat turned to the small bar and poured himself a whisky, before sitting back at his desk. Slowly, he took slips as he turned the tumbler in his hand.
What a way to spend Christmas Eve. He should have been with Susan, but Scott had put an end to that. Still, the man was going to pay for his actions for a long time and seeing his reaction was almost satisfactorily. It didn’t however counter the feeling of lost Pat felt about Susan.
He looked at the clock; the hands showed that it was half past ten. The darkness outside the window echoed, in part, how he felt. There were times when he hated being who he was; but he had commitments he couldn’t forsake, to those who worked for him and he doubted that his fellow syndicate heads would let him go. He knew too much.
So he sat, occasionally slipping his drink, listening to the ticking of the clock, his thoughts going around in circles. He had truly liked Susan, but whether they could have gone further in their relationship, if the police hadn’t thrown a spanner in the works, he didn’t know. However, seeing how she had reacted, he guessed that it probably would not have worked well. Maybe they had done him a favour, after all.
His thoughts were interrupted by a quiet knock.
“What do you want?” Pat growled.
Matt Riordan, one of the founding members of his gang, carefully put his head around the door. “Sorry, Mr Donaghue... but we were just wondering when you were thinking about going home? It’s getting late, you know.”
“I know,” Pat replied. He put down his drink and looked out the window. With a sigh, he continued: “I think I’ll spend the night here. There’re a few things I want to see to.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Matt. Now, you and everyone else here, go home. Its Christmas Eve, for Christ’s sake, all of you should be somewhere else enjoying yourselves.” Pat made a fluid motion with his hand towards his door. “Now go and enjoy what’s left of the night.”
“Are you certain, sir?”
“Yes. Yes, I’m sure, Matt.”
“Okay, Mr Donaghue,” Matt said has he acknowledged Pat’s order with a single nod of his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow,”
“No you won’t, Matt. Tomorrow is Christmas Day and I don’t want to see hide or hair of anyone here,” Pat stated. “You know that we don’t work on Christmas Day. Go spend it with family or friends. That goes for everyone. Good night, Matt.”
“Good night, sir,” Matt replied. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you too, Matt,” Pat replied, as the door closed.
Left alone, he picked his drink up again and swallowed what was left in one mouthful, before heading back to the bar and pouring himself another couple of shots. Moving to stand by the window, he watched the Christmas lights decorating the front doors of business, stores and residential homes.
Time passed as he gazed at them, with thoughts about the recent past and the future mixing in his head. What might he have done, if Scott Neelsen had not talked to the police, leading them to reveal the truth about him to Susan? Would things have been different? Would his feelings for Susan have grown stronger over time? Could their relationship have become the catalyst for him to leave the syndicate? He had thought of leaving that life behind him, but that thought led to others, like would he be happy to go back to the run of the mill jobs that were out there for a man like him?
Somehow, he didn’t think so. No, he enjoyed the stimulation and challenge that running his syndicate gave him, as well as the thrill and risk of pulling off a job. One could almost say he was addicted to the excitement it brought him. But where did that leave him? Forever to be trapped in this situation because of the choice he made as a young man?
Slowly he shook his head; he just didn’t know.
‘Let’s face it,’ he thought, ‘unless something really unexpected happens, this is where I’m going to stay. What else could there be out there that would be worth risking my life for? Because I know the other syndicate bosses would be very concerned if I left the fold. I know too much; I might become a liability. Who knows what they might decide to do to me? And I’m sure that whatever I do, the cops would probably still be after me, anyway.’
With those sombre thoughts in his head, Pat took another sip of his drink; as he did so, he heard the clock starting to chime the hour. He turned to look at it.
‘Almost midnight. The witching hour, my mum called it. It’s also almost Christmas Day. Ah, I wonder if I made a wish now would it be more likely to come true?’ He shrugged. ‘Might as well give it a try, I have nothing to lose.’
Putting his glass down, he turned back to the window and focused on a Nativity scene in one of the shops windows.
‘I wish that there would be a way to change things. A way to wipe the slate clean, so I wouldn’t be on the wrong side of the law. And if that happens, I would like my job not to be an ordinary, boring job. A career that will be as challenging as what I’m doing now, and I would like for it to be worthwhile... Something that is actually commendable Maybe even helpful to my fellow man. One thing my encounter with Susan has made me see and that is, there’s more to life than money.
Yeah, I’d like for that to happen.’
And as he finished his wish, the clock struck the hour’s last chime.
I acknowledge that Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons were created by Gerry and Sylvia Anderson, and that the copyright is owned by some company (whoever it is now days I have no idea) and not me. So this story has been written for mine and others’ enjoyment and not for any financial gain.
BIG thanks to Chris Bishop for her time and effort in fixing my punctuation and other mistakes in this story (However any that are there, that’s my fault for not picking them up).
I would also like to thank Chris for her website and the time and effort she puts into it. A big and ongoing job that she does very well. Thank you, Chris.
Moreover, a really big lot of appreciation to Sue Stanhope and Chris Bishop again for their creation of some of the characters I have used in this story: Michael Brunton, Robert Oxbury and Matt Riordan. They can be found in the stories on their part of this website. The other non-canon characters are my creations and not based on anyone known.
This story came about as I tried to work out some things about Patrick Donaghue. Like why, out of all the possible crime bosses that were operating at the time, the Spectrum selection committee chose to recruit him? Furthermore, in most of the fan fiction stories it said that Pat didn’t kill; if that was the case, then how did he acquire his reputation of being efficient and at time ruthless, as stated in his official background as a former gang leader? Well, this is what I came up with in trying to answer those questions.