Free A Spy in the Shadows (Spy Noir Series Book 1) by Randy Grigsby

parked at the front of the tent.  Leni knew that other than the archaeological site and his new GE Musaphonic Radio Phonograph, the Simca was one of Hance’s prized possessions.
    She exited the car and walked between the two tents.  A biplane with ‘Iranian Expedition’ stenciled on the side by the door, sat off to the right tethered to the ground.  In front of the plane by the engine, a pilot in Khaki slacks and a leather flight jacket squatted.  Eyes hidden behind reflector flight glasses, he glanced at her, and then turned back to the motor.
    Leni pulled back the tent flap.
    “Leni.  Leni.”
    She turned and saw William Hance waving and strolling up the hill.
    Her archeologist never wasted an opportunity to relate the story that since the age of five as a boy in Hamburg he knew he was to be a scientist.  In December 1923 Hance went to England and studied at Cambridge University, until he received his Ph.D. in 1928.  The next year he moved to America and studied anthropology.  He returned to Europe two years later, became interested in Persian archaeology during a mesmerizing trip to Iraq in 1932, and had the opportunity to work on the Sasanian Palace excavations.  Among the magical world of semiprecious stones, ceramics, and elegant alabaster vessels, Hance found his life’s calling.  But there was another purpose burning just as passionately within, introduced by an uncle.
    The Abwehr recruited him, certain that archaeological sites would be an adequate cover for their operations in Persia.  In 1941 when the roundup of German citizens began in Iran, Hance and his wife, Evana, were on the list.
    Evana, wearing a disguise, fled to the neutral country of Turkey across the Kurd Mountains.  She sought assistance from the German consulate while Hance went underground for a time.  Evana made her way to Germany and elected to remain there.  When the Nazis invaded Poland, they captured the radio station in Warsaw and Evana Hance broadcast accounts of Hitler’s successes in the field.
    The archeologist walked up to Leni and took her hand.  He had a hard raw-boned face, with quiet blue eyes.  “Here in the middle of the day, Leni?  What a pleasant surprise.”
    “I simply couldn’t go another day without seeing my favorite scientist,” Leni said.
    “But it’s so hot,” Hance said, removing his hat and wiping his forehead with a handkerchief from his back pocket.  “Come,” he said taking her arm.  “The tent is much cooler.”
    They went in and he pulled two canvas chairs closer to the wooden table.  “A drink?”
    “Just tea, thank you.”
    Hance went to a table and prepared two glasses of tea.  He handed one to Leni.  Then he went to the phonograph in the corner.  When he walked back and took his chair beside her, classical music filled the tent.
    Leni asked, “I’ve never seen that plane before.”
    “Because you’ve probably not been here on Wednesdays.  The pilot flies our supplies in once a week from Turkey.  From the city of Bitlis, I believe.”
    A schedule to store in the back of her mind, Leni reasoned.  “The dig, how is it going?”
    “Some interesting finds.  The site has given us objects of the third and first millennium.  My largest concern isn’t the validity of the site, but our funding is drying up.”  He sighed.  “It’s a shame science must always depend on monies from the very world who sometimes doesn’t understand us.”
    Leni was aware the Abwehr had shifted funds to his site through several innocent-enough appearing corporations in Belgium and two major universities.  “Are you discussing the companies . . . or our friends in Berlin?”
    “Does it really matter?  They don’t look at excavations such as these like they should.  Ancient history.  Sacred sites.  No—for them it’s always motive that promotes their sacred reason, either for financial gain, or building up their museums, or—”
    “I don’t think I’d speak ill of our friends,