Re: 2200
“You seem to be doing just fine to me,” Jack replied, laughing lightly again. “Besides, spies are always the ones who blend in the best, right? So really, it would be easy for you to be a spy—and I’d get in trouble because you and I talking like this is a complete disregard for rank, isn’t it? I don’t think the Germans would be too fond of that.”
But really, was Jack Davis one to accuse another of being a spy? Jack Davis, Hitler’s Aryan poster-child?
“Oh,” Jack said, smiled dropping a little, almost looking for someone who could understand where he was coming from. Just as Sam was ashamed of his background, Jack was ashamed of his—though for very different reasons, certainly. Jack had been one of the lucky few to be spared by the Depression—not even spared, really, but passed over completely. Jack’s family was wealthy, to put it simply, and he’d grown up in an elegant house with a driver and a cook and all of that nonsense. He didn’t talk about it, that was for sure—he was ashamed, really. He almost felt guilty. “Well mine weren’t happy at all,” he laughed, passing it off. “You’d think they’d come to terms with all that’s happening, realize that I would have had to do it sooner or later. But nah, they’re still angry as hell with me. I suppose Ill have to suffer through quite a bit of punishment if I ever make it back there,” he joked, not ACTUALLY that pessimistic.
“Well hopefully I do it all right,” Jack laughed, scratching at his head a little, insecure now. “I haven’t gotten much of a chance to prove myself, or anything like that.”