“The Germans are massing their troops on the other side of The Channel and preparing for invasion as we speak… whether or not that happens is largely in their hands rather than ours, and you can take if from me they’re not likely to change their minds on this. If they do land on British soil and manage to establish a bridgehead anywhere, it’ll pretty much be the end for England.” He looked down at his feet for a moment with an awkward expression that was extremely out of character, before lifting his eyes once more to again stare at Rupert directly. “It’s not something the papers are talking about — they may not know about it yet — but right across Occupied Europe, the Nazis are rounding up every minority racial and social group they don’t like and shipping them off to concentration camps. Jews, political prisoners, the mentally infirm, gypsies…” he paused pointedly before continuing, “…homosexuals. Basically any group or individual that isn’t a blond-haired, blue-eyed, card-carrying ‘poster child’ for the Aryan race is in their sights, and very few of the people they’re sending east right now are ever going to see their homes or their families again.”
Those words, particularly the pause as Brandis spoke, caught Rupert completely by surprise and left him momentarily speechless and open-mouthed. The attitudes of the general public and governments at all levels around the Western World regarding homosexuality were as conservative in the early 20th Century as they’d been in earlier periods, and in Britain at least it was still regarded as an illegal activity that carried a penalty of imprisonment should any arrest result in conviction.
Very few men of Rupert’s era had the courage to be open about their sexual orientation, and Rupert, like most, preferred to keep what he did in private exactly that… private. Even the suggestion that a man might be homosexual could well be enough in upper class circles to prevent access to the right jobs or the right clubs, and would see any aspiring social climber potentially ostracised from his friends and peers (regardless of how many others in that same group might also be secretly gay).
Rupert had never made any consciously overt gesture or signal in Brandis’ presence that suggested what his sexual tendencies might’ve been, and although he’d certainly come to trust his employer and would even call him a relatively close friend, Rupert had nevertheless been very careful in that time to do or show nothing that might jeopardise their professional relationship. Brandis’ words were the first indication or recognition of Rupert’s sexuality that the man had ever made in the ten years they’d worked together, and the revelation came as a sudden and quite unexpected shock.
“How… how long have you known…?” Was all Rupert could stammer, his voice almost croaking as he fought for air.
“Before I walked into that pub ten years ago to offer you the job,” Brandis shrugged, as if the matter were of no more consequence than a discussion as to what colour shirt to wear.
“Then… then why…?”
“Why did I hire you?” He asked, and Rupert could only nod silently. Brandis sighed visibly, his vague feelings of frustration a reaction to the fact that the subject was of any importance at all in the world they lived in. “I hired you because I knew you’d be the best person I could ever hope to find to work as my assistant, and you’ve not disappointed me once in the decade since. Rupert, I couldn’t care less that you’re Jewish, and I certainly couldn’t care less about what choices you make regarding who you associate with privately, or who you choose to sleep with.” A faint hint of bitterness and disgust crept into his tone as he continued. “The last thing I want is to see you or anyone else being rounded up by the fucking Nazis and being marched off to a death camp wearing ‘striped pyjamas’ with a yellow star or pink bloody triangle pinned to your chest!”
There was a short pause as Rupert mentally digested what the man had said, and Brandis took that time to allow his pathological hatred of the Nazis to dissipate somewhat. When he spoke again, the venom in his tone had all but disappeared once more. “To that end,” he continued, “we’re going to get you out of England and off to somewhere safe where you can continue the good work you’ve been doing for me.”
“‘Out of England’…?” That news would also have left Rupert stunned if he’d not been so surprised already. “What are you talking about, James? I’ve lived in London all my life: I’m not going anywhere, Germans or otherwise!”
“Courageous sentiments,” Brandis shrugged as if his PA’s words were meaningless, “but the fact remains you will be leaving the country in the near future… in about three weeks to be exact. The Nazis are exterminating people, Rupert, and Jews are top of their hit list. You’re of too great a value to me as a friend and as an employee for me to allow you to end up in one of their bloody gas chambers! I’ll be getting out myself at the same time, although we’ll not be travelling together: I need you to take on an assignment for me that’ll involve you working for someone else for the foreseeable future.”
“You’re letting me go?” The concept was so terrible and foreign to Rupert’s reality that he could barely speak the words, emotions that were equal parts fear and anger welling up within him.
“I’m not firing you, for God’s sake,” Brandis replied, the slightest hint of exasperation creeping into his tone. “I’m just altering the conditions of your employment. When Britain falls, there’ll be no longer any business here for me to own or run, and I’ll shortly be passing control of most of my foreign holdings into the hands of someone else also… what d’you think your job prospects with me would be then? The alternative is to take on this assignment. We won’t be in constant contact, but there’ll be times when I’ll contact you for information and assistance and, possibly, to supply information on occasion as well. The rest of the time, you’ll still be working as PA to another man whom you’ll meet in a couple of weeks… a man who’s going to really be going places in the next few years, if I’m not mistaken.”
“So you want me to work for some complete stranger and spy on them for you?” Rupert replied petulantly, sounding almost acidic.
“It will not be ‘spying’!” Brandis shot back firmly, enough authority in his voice to send his PA a clear warning of his displeasure. “The man’s name is Max Thorne, and he’s currently the commanding officer of a special military unit known as Hindsight. Within the next few years, I expect him to become a major figure in the business world, and I intend him to accomplish that with you guiding him all the way.” Brandis rubbed at his forehead and paused for a moment, frowning to himself as if debating how to continue.
“Unless something goes incredibly awry, in the next few weeks I’ll have reached the culmination of everything I’ve worked toward my entire life. Although I may still keep my finger on the pulse of what’s happening around the world — hence my intention to keep in contact with you here and there — I otherwise intend to ‘disappear’ from public life for all intents and purposes. Considering the extent of my investments worldwide — which I’m sure you’re aware of — that in itself will create a substantial power vacuum in the industrial and manufacturing world… a vacuum I expect Max Thorne to fill… and that is why I want you to go and work for him.” He paused again, noting that although there was still confusion on Rupert’s face, the young man had calmed down and was at least now trying to understand.