Perdue: A Marie Perdita Suspense

Chapter 1

"Focus on the reward, not the fear. I can do that."

Where do I start? You may know me from the escapades I have had with BCI, Neil Baggio, and Gaines Chemical. Luckily for this girl, I'm an asset my country wants to use; otherwise, I'd still be a burned spy or in a dark prison somewhere. But I've also done some unforgivable things; I have killed an FBI agent, plus a witness for a crime boss, one that friends were close to pu ing away for a long time. I fell into a trap, and climbing out of that dark hole put me in the crosshairs of some bad people.

When the CIA brought me back in, they told me I needed to change my name again, so the new and hopefully improved me is known as Marie Perdita. Marie reminds me of the last person who ever trusted me, someone very close to my heart, so I felt it was a great place to begin.

My new first name had to be something I'll feel normal and familiar with over time. And I thought perdita was a bit funny since it's Latin for lost. Plus, the name Marie Perdita looks superb when I sign it; it's the li le things that get us through the day. Since I've had to change who I am over and over, this is a way for me to feel at home despite feeling lost.

My name was Erin Beddington, but I've gone by so many last names that I don't know who I am anymore.

What I do know is that Erin is the name I was born with. It was also my grandmother's name.

But that's not important right now.

What is important is that I'm on a riverboat riding up the Mississippi outside of New Orleans, my hands bound with tape and a gag in my mouth. I'm being left for dead in a pile of trash, but this can't be the end for me.

But before I explain how I got here, let me give you a little background on where I'm from.

I grew up in the small town of Rincon, Georgia, to a farmer father and three brothers. I'm the second oldest. For my family's sake and the safety of all involved, I'll keep their names out of it, but I will share some stories that got me to this point.

Growing up in that small town allowed us the small-town feel with access to a city much bigger nearby. Though Savannah isn't like Atlanta, it feels huge compared to Rincon. That family life, living on a farm, taught me the value of hard work and shit days. Life is going to throw rough weeks at you; that's just the way it is. You're going to have poor crop seasons and have to live broke. That mindset, along with my drive and intellect, have allowed me to survive this long on a career path not known for longevity.

Having three bigger brothers, even though I was older than two of them, gave me a bit of a complex. I was super aggressive in sports, always trying to outdo my siblings. There I was (and still am) standing a mere five-seven and weighing in at about one-forty. My brothers, though, were all more than six feet and played football like proper country southern boys. One of them, the middle brother, got into baseball because of a coach and now plays in the majors. They didn't care that I was a girl.

I was a three-sport athlete, specializing in running. I was a cross-country and track star, even at the state level. Then I played basketball for fun and to stay in shape. I was always pushing myself to do better, and I took the same approach with school. My mother, an English professor at the local college, made certain of that. She was always my motivator with school. Even as a spy, I want to make my mother proud, yet she can never know what I do.

My family thinks I joined the military and do secret research projects for Homeland Security. It covers me being gone for months at a time, sometimes longer. I know it's hard on them, but it's a dream that I had to chase. My father is a Marine. After serving for almost a decade, he retired at twenty-seven. When he met my mother, he became a farmer and settled down. He outworked, outhustled, and out-loved everyone I knew. I think it's safe to say my fearless attitude came from watching him wake at four in the morning and push for that success in everything.